Post a sentence (or two or a paragraph) from as many of your WIPs as you want, with no explanation attached.
1) Summoning whatever strength he'd built in his arms, Bobby started to pull himself from under his overturned wheelchair toward his study and living room. Just as he reached the doorway, he saw Sam and Dean wrestling in the corner. Though he couldn't see much, he noticed Sam had him pinned, but Dean wasn't giving up. His hands were ready to claw Sam's eyes first chance he got, but for now, Sam had his wrists restrained tight.
2) "I'm the pansy-ass version of the Hulk," Dean muttered. "Instead of smashing things, I tickle people."
3) "I fear your humanity will slip," Castiel said. "Your human nature and Sam's are the only things that are keeping this fight in check."
4) "This has gotten out of control. He wouldn't have wanted this." Castiel turned to Uriel. "You must fix it."
5) "There is a way," Castiel said. "An angel who speaks with God. His name is Metatron. You must find him."
Dean frowned. "You want us to find a transformer?"
"Dude, Metatron, not Megatron," Sam said with a sigh.
6) "This is a no brainer, Singer. Take out the Winchesters and this is over. No apocalypse. No war. It's done." Will searched Bobby's face, almost pleading with him, before the dark determination returned. "I know you know where they are. We all do. And we're not going to let them walk away from this alive."
7) As the white light faded and the fog started to clear from his mind, Dean took a lazy glance around the room. He had no clue where he'd gone and quantum leaped this time, but whatever it was, he felt weird. Off. And everything was friggin' huge.
His eyes widened as he noticed the little angel statue resting next to an assortment of little boy toys on a wall shelf. He knew exactly where he was.
Dean was home.
"Son of a bitch."
8) Jo glared at him. "If you think I am just going to stand by and let the end of the world happen while you and Sam are off fighting, you have another thing coming, mister."
9) Dean rested on the motel bed, his damaged leg elevated, the pain meds on the table beside him, while his finger tapped the trigger of his gun. Not!Sam might be sitting by the window, using Sam's laptop, wearing Sam's clothes, and doing other Sam-like things, but Dean wasn't going to fall into his trap, not when his real brother was out there somewhere.
Crap. I have a lot of WIPs. That is not even counting the Dark Angel fics I want to write. Bah.