#destiel fic prompts

[minxyone93]

I had a tag list for my fic readers at one time. Please lmk if you'd like to be added. I am working on two fics rn and I just found my old list of ask prompts people have sent me and have more ideas percolating in my brain <3 Hoping to drop the first chapter of a new fic this weekend gawd willin and the creek don't rise

[blueswallow2020]

New writer on ao3, have a little time while on maternity leave, I think I’m ready to take the plunge with my first short fic? And I only have long fic ideas, so I need help!

Since I believe in “write what you know,” here are some Things That I Know:

Medical/nursing stuff

Search and rescue

Libraries and bookstores

Music – primarily vocal performance

Different types of churches, theology, and church history

Religious trauma

Sexual trauma

Parentified childhood

Emotional abuse in childhood

Being homeschooled

Living in the jungle as a medical missionary

Living with mental health problems (PTSD, ADHD, anxiety, depression)

Living with chronic pain (fibromyalgia, painful bladder syndrome, hypermobile joints, IBS)

Martial arts

Parenting and childbirth

…was not expecting that to turn into a weird little autobiography, but ok

[colorlessjay]

Here's a Destiel prompt based on a doodle I did but also Chappell Roan:

Dean Winchester is your average picture perfect American boy. Tall, blonde, football team quarterback, Kansas sweetheart with a little brother he's way too over protective of, and a southern drawl he swears he doesn't exaggerate. He's brash and rude, his confidence making him an easy target for over excited crowds and the occasion fights. The girls at school want him when he gives them a wink and a smile, and most guys envy him. Wish they were him.

But Dean had his eyes set on the unattainable

Castiel Novak. the Student body vice president who seems to fly through school like he was above it all. But not in the obnoxious 'I'm better than you' way in most teen movies. No, Castiel radiates an energy. One of pure intent, kindness, and joy that makes people fall for his hypnotic blue eyes

People like Dean, Castiel's best friend, and the guy he confides in more often than not

And Dean hates that he does. Because Castiel,for all his intelligence, was as clueless as they come

So whenever Castiel asks him to wingman for him

It's months worth of heartache and fake smiles as he watches Castiel pull every trick Dean taught him

Because Dean Winchester? He's the practice boy

-----

Castiel, wanting to the full college experience, asks his best friend Dean to help on how to date/seduce girls (Since Dean is really good at it and has been in relationships before. But only to distract from his massive crush on Cas)

And Dean, being a good friend, walks Cas through every step regardless of how much it hurts to flirt with Cas, only for Cas to use those same words and actions on girls

And one day, Cas asks Dean how to kiss. If he'll be a good kisser. Castiel's self conscious about it. Self deprecating and confused cause his lips are always chapped and his hair always a mess. And he's scared he won't close his eyes

And Dean just goes on about how those can be good things. How they're attractive. Blurting out stuff he personally feels about kissing Cas

"Your hair's perfect for kissing, short and soft and perfect to hold"

"If she doesn't like your eyes when you kiss, then she's blind as a bat!"

"Your lips look chapped but I'll bet my Baby they're as soft as the look you get when you see a bee"

"hell! Given the chance, I'd kiss you and I'd be the one left breathless"

And of course, they practice kissing

And Dean was right. It leaves him breathless

Leaves him heartbroken too when he finds Cas kissing Meg the same way a week later

-------

"I can't take it anymore, Cas! I'm so fucking tired of being your goddamn practice dummy!" Dean turns around, finally facing Castiel after he storming off "Yeah, I asked for it. It was fucking stupid to even suggest it, but you can't be so goddamn blind to not see that everything I've said, everything I've taught you, was more then just a shitty flirting lesson to me!"

Castiel stops in his chase, staring at Dean wide eyed as the rain picks up

Dean powers on, pacing and flailing "Fuck me for thinking the way you kissed me meant something then just practice" he laughs humorlessly then lets out a sob

"Fuck, Cas…" Dean looks up. his hand coming down to clutch at his wet shirt. Tears and rain running down his face "It meant something to me… you saying it otherwise doesn't change that… it just makes it hurt"

Castiel stared wide eyed and frozen. His mind flashes back to every interaction, every little touch, every word said between them

And all he could muster up was

"Dean…"

[imaginaryprotagonist]

Fic prompt: The French Mistake but Dean realizes the network has tried to censor his bisexuality and he is PISSED!

[wigglebox]

Destiel Hot Summer - Storm ⛈️

[bobwess]

Random SPN prompt: Dean doesn't know that he can pray without talking, so Cas pretends he doesn't hear the silent "I love you" Dean doesn't want to add at the end of each one.

[fanovember]

IT'S FINALLY HERE, PEOPLE, OUR PROMPT LIST FOR THIS YEAR'S FANOVEMBER!!! (Written list below the line)

We decided to go through literary genres this time, although you can fit the prompt however you please (by using the literal word in your piece, a small reference, or writing in the style of that prompt!)

→We'll be posting some ideas every day to spark creativity if any prompt in particular doesn't work well for you. Although you don't have to complete the challenge 100% (I won't, more on that later)

→There's no limit on extension at all, whatever you need will be fine. (At least 200 words was the initial idea, but I, for instance, sometimes need less)

→You can write in any language you want, we'll repost anyway. It's also valid if you mix languages! (I'll use Spanish since the media I've chosen is originally in that language)

→Arists are welcome too, of course!

→Remember to mention this blog @fanovember or use any (or all) of these tags:

#fanovember

#fanovember 2024

#fanovember 24

Personally, I don't think I'm completing the full list, as I'm absolutely surpassed by daily responsibilities. But since Softober went well, I'll choose 12 or 13 of the prompts that appeal to me the most and write those throughout the month. You can do whatever works best for you too, we don't want you to feel pressured by any means.

Choose your fandom (or fandoms) and start creating! Let's have some fun!!

Fanovember 2024

01. Romance

02. Short story

03. Terror

04. Adventure

05. Art

06. Retelling

07. Historical

08. Journal

09. Theatre

10. Witchcraft

11. Religion

12. Fantasy

13. Astrology

14. Mithology

15. Poetics

16. Reality show

17. Press

18. Urban fantasy

19. Film/Movie

20. Family

21. Music

22. Epistolary

23. Sci-fi

24. Autobiography

25. Cuisine

26. Dance

27. Board games

28. Classic

29. Triller

30. Flash-fiction

[dark-dragon-8]

Sastiel where Castiel comes to talk to Sam about something while Sam is getting dressed (sitting on the bed) and as soon as the talk is over, Sam pulls Castiel into his lap and starts kissing him.

Destiel where Dean gets turned on by Castiel either beating him up (yes, I did just watch 5×18, how did you know) or killing people for him and they end up hooking up in a random Alley.

Wincest where, for pretty much their entire lives, Sam and Dean were each other's everything and can't even imagine a life, let alone a world without one another.

Where, when they have sex, they just bask in each other, in their world, because that's what they are to each other, they are each other's world, they do this to become one with one another physically, because they want to be as close as they can, because they're each other's other half and they need that in order to function properly.

Wincestiel where all three of them are the "weirdos" and "freaks" of the hunting world, where people are repulsed and disgusted by them because, they were demons, they were angels (angels also want humans dead, therefore they're the bad guys too), they started the apocalypse, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘎𝘰𝘥. But they've still got each other and love one another unconditionally. They'd burn the world down for one another without even a second of hesitation.

Where they also take turns being the Doms in the bedroom because they each like bossing the other two around and telling them what to do (Dean takes that role the most, though, his controlling nature doesn't like it when people tell him what to do).

Where everything above applies here and instead of boyfriends they say that they're each other's brothers. Because that's what Sam & Dean always have been and Castiel learned everything about humans from them, so when they call him their brother he knows, he knows that he's finally part of the family, that they care and love him more than anything in the world.

Just Wincestiel slowly but surely becoming each other's world in ways no outsider will ever understand.

[indubioprocoffee]

“Do you have to eat that?” Castiel asked with an indescribable look on his face.

“Huh?” Dean looked up from his bucket of chicken wings, grease smeared all over his face.

“Do you have to eat them? … I mean those?”

Dean slowly lowered the wing still in his hand. “Everything alright, Cas?”

“Yes, but …” His face looked very strained.

“You can tell me.” With a concerned look, he cleaned up his face with a napkin.

Castiel sighed. “It’s just … You devouring those poor chickens wings like that … It’s hard to watch.”

“Oh.” Something clicked in Dean’s brain. “I see.” He threw the napkin over the few chicken wings left in the bucket, so that Cas didn’t need to see them anymore. After Cas fell and his wings were broken, everything remotely concerning wings became a difficult topic.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think …”

“It’s okay, Dean. I’m just … Just don’t eat them, when I’m around, maybe?”

“No,” Dean said as he was walking over to Cas. “I’m never eating them again. I swear.”

“Dean, you don’t have to …”

“But I do. I can’t eat them anymore now.”

“I’m sorry. I ruined hot wings for you,” Castiel said with sorrowful eyes.

“Well, there’s still burgers and fries, right?”

“And cherry pie, Dean. Don’t forget the pie.”

“I would never.”

[tiny-pun]

Angel child, devil parent

Underrated trope: I absolutely loathe you but your kid is genuinely an angel/ but you make my usually distrusting child smile so I’ll tolerate you.

This could include

Possible jobs for A: kindergartener, baker, ice cream vendor, barista, librarian, bus driver, doctor etc.

Both of them acting all kind and polite in front of the child with underhanded jibs and sarcastic comments towards each other if the kid is around

Both Voices going higher at least 2 octaves around the child.

Whisper yelling at each other when the kid is distracted/a few meters away

“How the hell did you manage to raise an actual angel when you’re literally a satan himself?!?” “News flash: the devil was an angel himself!”

“You so clearly take after your other parent, sweetheart.”, with a shit eating grin towards the parent.

“ I will never understand how you tricked, no bewitched, my sweet child like that. The moment I find out we! Are! OUT OF HERE!!” “ Oh I just have that effect on genuinely good and nice people like that. You wouldn’t understand.” “Fuck you!” “Oh no! Such horrible language! Truly a terrible parent! That poor child! I’m gonna pray for them!” “You’re not even religious!?”

‘Oh no when did I learn the ins and outs of their daily life ?!?’

“Oh sweetie, you can’t just invite someone over without telling me. And theyre a very busy person and we wouldn’t want to interfere with-“ “No it’s fine! I have time!” Through gritted teeth:”We really wouldn’t want you to come all this way, just for us.” “It’s fine! I’ll come by at 12!”

“Hey this is me by the way!” “How the fuck did you get my number ?!?” “Your sweet child gave it to me!” “And you dickhead just took it ?!?! Why the hell would you even need it, asshole ?!?” “Again with those words in front of a child. Tsktsktsk” “We’re on the phone, dumbass.” “And you’re on speaker. Say hello to your parent, sweetie!” “Hello!” “H-Hey sweetie! Oh god.”

“Don’t teach my child such language!” “I think they’re learning worse from you actually.”

“I’m so sorry I know this is so last minute and it’s your off day/ Friday night but could you please look after my child?“ “sure!” “What?!? Just like that ?!? I was gonna do a whole speech about how I have an important event to go to and my usual babysitter just got sick and I don’t know who else to call and I yell at you most of the time we talk but I know you would never hurt my child- and !” “It’s truly fine! Even if I had something to do I know you wouldn’t resort to me if you had literally any other option so it must be an emergency. And also your child is an actual Angel, why wouldn’t I want to spent some time with them?!?.” “Oh god that you!I’ll owe you! Anything you want! ”

“Soo, you trust me?” “Bitch, That’s not what I said at all. I trust you with my kid. Nothing more.” “Semantics, sweetheart!”

Also the good old “oh shit did your/my child just trick us into having a date with one another ?”

Feel free to add!

[thebest-medicine]

#5 “No, I’m just- uh- sensitive.” with Dean and Cas?

Prompt 5 - "No, I'm just- uh- sensitive."

A/N: oh man it's a throwback... let's go!!!! to quote @nhasablogg: what in the 2014 is happening here

…

Dean twitched again as Castiel’s hand passed the middle of his back, just between the shoulder blades. Castiel watched him with a twinkle of concern.

He had come in and sat down on the couch at Dean’s invitation earlier, only for Dean to then lounge across the couch and his lap, laying face down on a pillow and popping some reruns on the TV. Cas had taken it upon himself to shower the hunter with a little affection and check to make sure he was uninjured after their last outing. This led to Cas rubbing his back and neck here and there, and some affectionate tracing along his skin (perhaps also a ploy to check for sore muscles or knots) to see if he could help Dean feel a bit better.

“What’s wrong, Dean?”

“Nothin’.” Dean hummed against the pillow on the arm of the couch. “S’fine.”

Cas continued tracing along the muscles of Dean’s shoulders, pushing in when he sensed a knot and massaging here and there. He ran a few fingers along his spine up to his neck and Dean flinched again.

“Dean.” Cas stressed, stopping his ministrations.

“It’s fine, Cas. I’m… it’s just- uh- sensitive there.”

Castiel leaned forward, trying to get a glimpse of the human’s expression to better read him. He seemed content, happy even, he wasn’t getting up or moving away. He wasn’t hiding anything… any injury, right? Cas noticed a rosy coloring on the tip of his ear. He smiled gently.

“Sensitive.?” He inquired softly, starting to curl his fingers again along the back of Dean’s neck and over his shoulder, along his back. The thin t-shirt was soft under his fingertips, and it must have been on Dean’s skin as well. Dean squirmed again, digging himself deeper into the couch and Cas’s lap. Cas caught a strangled bit of a laugh almost made its way through the pillow. He smiled a little as he caught on.

“Sensitive… like you are here?” Cas continued, and suddenly his other hand was scratching at Dean’s ribcage.

Dean squawked at the new, more directly ticklish contact. He curled onto his side. “Hehheehe- wait! Nohohohohohooo!” He laughed, his blushing face now free. Cas caught sight of his delightful smile and felt warm.

“Can I get you to laugh like this if I try tickling back here?” Cas said curiously.

Dean protested through his laughs as he squirmed about, still tired, but didn’t do much to actually stop the ticklish attack. Cas drew both hands back and started to make the same spidering motions along the backs of Dean’s ribs and tracing up and down his spine. He scribbled at Dean’s neck, then at the small of his back. Dean laughed all the same, twitching and twisting until he finally squirmed his way onto his back, facing the angel. He caught Castiel’s hands in his and Cas stopped for a moment, taking in his wild eyes and fierce blush in contrast with his freckles.

“Heh- yeesh. You trying to kill me?” Dean laughed, closing his eyes under the scrutiny.

“You have a very sweet laugh.” Castiel said, smiling as Dean squirmed at the compliment too. “And a very ticklish back.” Another squirm.

“Shut up. You’re probably worse.” Dean scoffed.

“Well, maybe you’ll find out one day.”

Dean looked back up at him, raising an eyebrow with a little smirk. “Wanna find out?”

“Not now.” Cas smirked after he spoke, and Dean gave him a bewildered look before fingers fluttered along his stomach and began pinching his sides, and Dean lost his protests to laughter once again.

…

[more sentence starter fic prompts]

[other sentence starter fics]

[read this & further SPN drabbles on ao3]

[golby-moon]

okay so I know the @destieldtiyschallenge is over and I've elected to ignore that idk there's still more stuff I wanna redraw though I am forcing myself to almost maybe possibly be done uh. but yeah so I saw the silly final panel of this comic that @wigglebox gifted to the masses and oh no my hand slipped

here's the original drawing, which is actually a comic though I only did the final panel

I will admit to wanting to draw this for Sam's face. speaking of faces Dean and Cas' are pretty weird and I'm aware of this, closed eyes are always just kinda weird. also I was gonna color this but idk it just has a certain vibe like this in definitely not just being lazy. but yeah let's pretend the challenge is still ongoing guys 👏

(04/21/24)

[drfrankensteinvsthequeerborgs]

you know that post that's like, "widower arc Dean would punch divorce arc Dean in the face?" PLEASE tell me there's a fic where that happens, I have a mighty need

[thevioletcaptain]

🤠🎶🌬️

Thanks for the prompt, anon! I hope you enjoy, and I’m sorry it took so long for me to fill. You can also read here on Ao3 💚

Deus Ex Caschina

Dean/Cas | 2k words | Mature When Dean and Sam get into a bad situation on an impromptu hunt near the Cuevas Ranch in New Mexico, Dean calls on Cas for help.

There’s something whistling out in the desert; a shrill, two-note call that starts high and ends low and makes all the hairs on Dean’s forearms stand on end.

Even knowing that whistling back is the worst possible thing he could do, he feels the impulse ricocheting through his body. He tamps it down. Hard. Presses his lips together and waits for the compulsion to pass.

Beside him, Sam has gone stock-still, eyes sharp and jaw tense as he scans the dark for some sign of the — well. Whatever it is.

Why he thinks he’s going to be able to see a damn thing beyond the fire-lit edges of their camp is a mystery, but Dean doesn’t bother to mention it. More likely than not, he’s not even thinking that far. A lot of the time, Dean knows, it’s less about having any real hope of success and more about the need to feel as though you’re at least doing something. Anything at all.

Because really, when it comes down to the cold hard facts? They’re helpless out here.

Sitting ducks, waiting for whichever desert-dwelling monster has been picking off the local horses — and most recently, an extremely unfortunate veterinarian — to stop toying with them like a cat batting a mouse from one side of a room to the other.

They’d found the case entirely by accident. Had been passing through New Mexico on their way back to the bunker when Dean had heard a familiar voice while waiting for his order at the Watrous Coffee House. He’d glanced toward the door, scanning faces, and found Cesar Cuevas talking with an older guy in dusty flannel.

Within the hour, he and Sam had been sitting in the kitchen of Jesse and Cesar’s ranch house going over the scant clues the retired hunters had managed to pull together in the days since a local vet — a well-liked guy named Petey — had been found on the edge of the neighboring acreage with his insides on the outside.

It’s not a lot.

Like the three horses which had suffered similar fates in the week before Petey died, there wasn’t any sign of a fight. No scuff marks in the ground to suggest he’d been dragged there after.

The local cops determined pretty quickly that the remains were in line with those left behind by a mountain lion and closed the case.

"Because of the missing spinal columns," Cesar had explained, his nose crinkling up in disgust. "Cougars tend to go for that first, and Petey and the horses were all… well. You get the idea."

"So what makes you think they're wrong?" Sam asked.

"Besides the fact that they're cops?" Jesse had snarked back, and Dean snorted. "No bite or claw marks, no paw prints, no scat, for starters."

"And this," Cesar added, handing over a long chunk of glittering stone. It only took Dean a moment to realize why it seemed familiar.

"Fulgurite?" he'd asked, handing it off to his brother, and Jesse and Cesar had nodded. "Any lightning storms lately?

"Not in months. And we found these at every site."

"Any idea what it means?"

"No clue."

"And that's all you've got so far?" Sam had asked, and the pair had nodded.

"Yup," Jesse said. "That's all."

That was six days ago, now, and though they've found a little more evidence, they're still stumped. Hence the camp out. Dean wasn't keen on it — camping isn't his bag on a good day, let alone when there's something eviscerating everything it can get it's hands on in the area — but after days of dead ends, and two more dead horses, they're beyond the point of putting it off.

Staring out past the creosote and cactus that edge their campsite, and knowing full well that he'd have just as much luck with his eyes closed, Dean listens for some other sound that might tell him what they're dealing with. Where it is.

Nothing. Just the distant pop of a car backfiring, and the tiny blinking lights of a plane flying east to west overhead. He's ready to give up when the whistle comes again.

Hiiiiiiiigh-low.

Shrill and sharp. It seems to come from somewhere straight ahead, and Dean strains to see. Strains and strains until his eyes start to sting.

He needs to blink.

…why the fuck can't he blink?

He tries to tell Sam, but his jaw feels wired shut. His tongue heaves against nothing, unmoving in his mouth as if pressed flat by some invisible force. He can’t speak. Can’t move.

He has the brief, panicked thought that he might not be able to breathe, but it passes. His lungs expand. Deflate. Expand.

Whatever is doing this, it doesn't want him dead.

Yet, he thinks, and the panic sets back in, dialed to eleven. It doesn't want me dead yet.

Thanks to the way they're standing, he's only peripherally aware of the side of Sam’s face, but it seems that he is experiencing the same problem. Great. Awesome.

Another whistle. Dean's skin prickles head-to-toe. Itches, like he's brushed up against fiberglass. His vision blurs as his eyes water with the agony of it, of being so goddamn itchy that he can't think, but utterly incapable of doing anything about it.

Another whistle.

Closer, now, but this time it's behind them. A little to the right.

Suddenly, the fact that there was never any evidence of a struggle makes a lot more sense. It's not that the thing is fast, or even particularly sneaky. It’s just been doing this. Rendering its victims incapable of fighting, moving, making a sound.

If they were anyone else, they’d be screwed right now.

If they were anyone else.

Cas, he prays, grateful beyond words for the angel on his shoulder and his freshly-reinstated wings. We’re in a bit of a situation here, buddy.

Another whistle.

Closer, still.

Another.

Then;

SNAP.

A wet crunch and a sound like a hose unravelling.

Cas, I really fucking hope that's you, Dean prays again, trying not to let himself imagine that a spinal column might make that sound if it were being yanked out of a living creature.

A whistle. Distressed gurgling.

THUD.

Footsteps crunching closer, and—

"Dean," Cas strides into his view, concern etched into his brow, his face spattered with blood. The wet droplets reflect the crackling fire, making him glitter in a way that should not be hot, but somehow really is. "That creature was about to kill you. Why didn't you call me sooner?"

You said you wanted to spend the week with Jack, Dean prays. I didn't want to interrupt Heaven stuff.

Cas frowns. Reaches out to touch Dean's jaw. His body floods with warmth as Cas' grace works whatever paralytic agent he'd been afflicted with from his system, and though he's been able to breathe the entire time, he sucks in a breath. Relaxes his muscles that feel as though he's been tensing them for a solid hour.

Fuck, he's gonna need a massage tomorrow. He can already tell he's gonna be feeling it in about three hours.

"'Heaven stuff' can wait. And Jack is God. He has plenty to occupy himself when I'm on Earth."

"Yeah, I know. I just… I feel like I've been monopolizing your time since you got back, that's all."

"It's not monopolizing my time when you're the person I wish to spend my time with," Cas reminds him. "Besides, I thought we agreed that if I was taking time off from hunting, you would too? You were supposed to be driving straight back to the bunker. I would have stayed to make the drive with you if I'd known you'd be putting yourself in danger."

"We were driving back. But then we ran into Jesse and Cesar, and they told us about this thing that had been— look, it's a long story, okay? And hey, you saved the day. So, y'know. All's well that ends well."

Cas huffs and crosses his arms. Unfortunately for him, Dean thinks the display is more cute than it is imposing.

"I'd prefer you didn't need saving in the first place."

"Well, yeah, obviously," Dean tells him. He glances over his shoulder. "What was it, anyway? Thing had a killer freeze ray."

"I'm not entirely sure," Cas admits, and Dean steps forward, pulling his sleeve down over his hand and wiping the dark blood off of Cas' cheek.

"But you killed it," he says.

"I did. It was projecting its intentions rather strongly. It was going to eat your spine, and then most of your organs. I couldn't allow it to live."

"My hero," Dean tells him, then, a brainwave; "Deus ex Caschina."

He grins wide, and Cas rolls his eyes. Waves a hand to zap the rest of the blood away. Dean takes that as his cue to properly express his appreciation.

"Thanks, sweetheart," he says.

Try as he might, Cas can't keep the displeased frown on his face when Dean pushes into his space and kisses him. He does still manage to sound huffy when he says you're welcome, Dean, but the tilt of his mouth softens the bite.

"So, is Jack expecting you back upstairs tonight?" Dean asks, nipping lightly at his lip. "I'd kinda like to repay you for the assist. Get on my knees, say a prayer of thanks, maybe get my mouth on your—"

"Sam!" Cas blurts out, and Dean leans back, making a disgusted face, before he realizes what Cas is saying. Unwinding his arms from around Cas' shoulders, he turns to look at his brother as Cas makes his way over to him. He's still stock-still, eyes wide and pleading as he stares into the middle distance somewhere beyond Dean's shoulder.

"Oops," Dean grimaces. "Forgot we weren't alone."

"He started praying," Cas says by way of explanation, and boops Sam in the middle of his forehead. "My apologies for the delay, Sam. I was… momentarily distracted."

Stretching out his jaw, Sam shakes his long limbs as if to make sure they're all still functional.

"It's fine," he tells Cas, nice as pie, before turning a glare on Dean. "Maybe next time make sure everyone is alive and functional before you start macking on your boyfriend."

"We actually decided on 'partner'," Dean corrects him, mostly just to be annoying, and Sam narrows his eyes.

"Really?" he says flatly.

Dean knows he's just pissy about the whole left-in-a-frozen-state situation, but Cas — wonderful, badass, occasionally too literal for his own good Cas — moves back to stand at Dean's side, and Dean knows, immediately, that he's about to tell Sam why they settled on the term. He wishes he were filming the reaction, but there's no way he'd be able to get his phone unlocked in time.

"Yes," Cas says proudly. "Partners. Like cowboys, but married."

"You're not married," Sam says, incapable of well-actuallying no matter the circumstance, and— here comes the kicker, Dean thinks.

"We got married in 2013," Cas says. Matter of fact. Like Sam's forgotten something everyone knows. Sam's eyebrows rise high enough that they somehow seem to clear his forehead.

"What?"

"Admittedly, we weren't in a romantic or sexual relationship yet, and it was mostly to ensure that if I were to wind up in hospital as a human, Dean would be able to visit me without any difficulty. Though obviously now we can both acknowledge that we were very much in love with one another at the time."

"What?"

Dean whistles. High-low. It does the trick, snapping Sam out of his stupor, and after his snap-reaction of fear dissipates, Dean clears his throat. Points toward their campsite.

"Hey, uh… maybe we should pack all this up, head back to the ranch before it gets too late? I know the uh… the thing is gone, but the insects are not. So…"

"I can't believe you got married without telling me," Sam says.

"Oh my god, it was over a decade ago, get over it," Dean says.

Sam does not laugh.

"Dean."

Groaning, Dean throws his head back.

"Listen, when we do it for real, or like… renew our vows or whatever? You'll be the first to know."

"We can do that?" Cas asks.

"Yeah, I mean. People do it all the time. Why, d'you— do you want to?"

"I'd like to," Cas tells him.

"Okay. Let's do it. Maybe Cesar and Jesse will let us do it on the ranch."

"Are you two serious?" Sam asks.

"What?"

"Just like that, you're engaged now?"

"We're already married, Sam," Cas tells him, squinting. "Did you not understand what I said earlier?"

Rubbing the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger, Sam pushes out a hard breath, and shakes his head, and seems to let it go.

"Congrats," he says finally.

"If you're wondering what to get us for a present," Dean says, pulling Cas alongside him toward the camp, "I hear waffle irons are always a good choice."

[written for this prompt game] [posted here on ao3 as imogenbynight 💚]

[annmariethrush]

Eventually I’ll write my magnum opus, a 15x18 fix it crack fic where Dean gets ground hog day stuck in the S3 ghostfacers episode immediately after Cas’s death. he has to go through this stupid ghost hunt over and over while he comes to terms with Cas’s confession and tries to ignore his own feelings until he realizes that some cosmic force is trying to show him something. Gay love can pierce through the veil of death and save the day. Finally, hundreds of ghostfacers! Episodes later he finally, teary eyed and distraught, admits that maybe Ed and Harry, insane and stupid though they are, may be right and that he has to admit his feelings for his poor dead angel to get him back.

This naturally turns out to be an act of Gabriel who is still somehow not dead, and we find out at the end that the real kicker is that time hasn’t actually really been on loop and that Dean has been stuck living that day over and over while Sam thinks that he’s dead as per 15x20 because as much as Gabriel wants to finally see Dean and Cas get together after being around since the beginning of the world’s greatest love story, he also just really fucking HATES Sam for some reason and wants to make him suffer by spending months thinking Dean is dead for real no take backs on a stupid hunt after they defeated god. Ultimately, much like his revival in S13, Dean’s love wakes Cas up in the empty, allowing Jack to free him, which was the plan all along, Gabriel just got to have too much fun with the plan after convincing Jack it wouldn’t work if they just told him

[lab-trash]

Character B has a massive crush on Character A. They kick themself for it, since they're only friends— close friends— and there's no way Character A would ever be okay with it.

Except Character A already knows. In fact, they thought it was obvious. Just something they never spoke of. Maybe bc A was waiting for B to be ready to say it.

One day someone flirts with B, making then uncomfortable, and A is immediately on the offense. They tell them to back off. Because B already has feelings for someone.

B stumbles through a thank you, but saying they didn't have to, or didn't have to lie to them. Leading A to say something like "I think they deserve to know your heart belongs to me if they're going to be hitting on you like that," or something of the sort.