Angel's Challenge Blog

Current Challenge - Gif+Adjective Challenge Master List

[sophisticated-angel]

Hey guys

So, I know it’s been like a year since you’ve seen or heard anything from me, but I’d like to ask you guys for a favor.

I need help finding somebody. A dog, not one I own, but one I had hoped to own and came so close to owning.

She’s a basset hound named Daisy Mae/May (the shelter and the website had different spellings) and she was being fostered through a shelter in Fenton, Michigan. She has a scar on her right ear, she’s four years old, her favorite toy is a stuffed lamb called Lambchop, and I think she came from Kentucky. My mom and I went out to visit her on Friday, May 17, 2019 and set it up with the foster to come back on Sunday to formally adopt her (my mom had a wedding rehearsal to attend and the actual wedding the next day, so we didn’t have enough time for the adoption interview Friday)

Through a series of disappointing events/decisions, she ended up going to an adoption event at the Detroit Zoo in Detroit, Michigan on Saturday, May 18 and got adopted there. It’s not really anybody’s fault in particular, just a lack of communication it sounds like.

I’m hoping you guys might be able to help me find out who adopted her.

I’m not looking to take Daisy May away from them or make anybody feel bad about anything that’s happened, but part of what’s hurting so bad about this is not knowing where she ended up. That’s all I want to know. Knowing where she is and that whoever got her really loves her I think will help me feel a little better.

We lost my dog of nine years last year to cancer. When I met Daisy May, it really felt like she filled a hole I thought had healed over at least a little. It sounds cliché and cheesy, I know. But I really connected to her. I felt whole again. Within ten minutes of meeting her, I knew I loved her and wanted her more than anything in the world. There was no hesitation, no feeling like I wouldn’t care about her as much as I care about our other dog.

When I found out she’d been adopted by someone else, I went home and locked myself in my room to cry, and then did the same thing again later after failing to take my mind off it. I actually went to my mom because I needed to be held - I never ask for that. Not even a night’s sleep has dulled the pain very much. I still can’t thing about anything else. Last night I told God I’d give up Skyrim and that he could cancel The Elder Scrolls series if it meant things could be changed (and I LOVE the Elder Scrolls like I used to love Supernatural).

To be honest, my hopes aren’t super high for this, but I’m still going to try and would appreciate any assistance you guys could give. Reblogging, asking your Michigan friends, anything. Like I said, I am not out to take her away or make anyone hurt, I’m just looking for some peace of mind.

You guys are the best.

Love, Angel.

[thecuriouscrusader]

The Protector

Pairing: Dean x Castiel

Word Count: 2572

Prompt: “Good. Keep close to the others. And I mean close. Not just in the same room. Stay in the same part of the room. Promise?” - Phantoms by Dean Koontz, page 211.

Tags: Wolf AU, A/B/O Dynamics, Established Relationship, Sabriel (Side Pairing), Violence, Protective Dean, Alpha Dean, Omega Cas, Injured Dean, Mention of Forced Breeding, No Smut

Summary: When Lucifer’s pack starts kidnapping omegas Dean fights to protect Cas, but he is the one who might need rescuing.

A/N: Written for @angelschallenge Storybook Challenge. Thank you for the awesome prompt, I had fun writing something different! And thank you again to @mrsgabrieltrickster for beta-ing x

Keep reading

[angelschallenge]

I gotta say, I wasn’t expecting this type of story, and though it’s not to my personal tastes, good job! It’s always refreshing to read something different. (I’ve never read a fic in this style before).

[writernocturnus]

Resolve

Warning(s): None

Word Count: 279

Author’s Note: This is my entry for @angelschallenge‘s Storybook Challenge.

Prompt: “Nature governs its creations equally; a man can perish as easily as a plant can be destroyed beneath one’s heel.” - The Resurrectionist by E. B. Hudspeth, page 32

Dean Winchester’s life is, to put it simply, sad.  His life is full of death, loss, monsters, and an overwhelming feeling of nothing being quite right.  It was when he was in high school, just some random school his father had dumped him in, when he came across a quote that really connected with him.  His stiff, elderly English teacher had taken the class to the library telling her small class of 16/17 year olds to pick out a book to read; Dean had rolled his eyes, wandered over to a random bookshelf, and pulled out a random book.  He was haphazardly flipping through it when he landed on a page and a phrase caught his eye.

“Nature governs its creations equally; a man can perish as easily as a plant can be destroyed beneath one’s heel.”

Dean Winchester scoffed at the phrase.  “It’s true,” he thought. “But at least a man can perish doing something great; a man can make the world a little better, a little safer before he perishes.  A plant sure as hell can’t do that.”  And it was this thought that only strengthened the teenager’s resolve to work hard when his dad trains him, to protect Sammy until his dying breath, to save the world from the monsters under its bed; he resolved not to perish easily, to not let his sad life be meaningless no matter what it cost him.  And when he got older, his resolve never weakened.  He traded his soul for his brother, he did whatever he had to do to help stop the Apocalypse, he fought the Leviathans, he suffered through Purgatory; he did not lose his resolve.

[angelschallenge]

Short but deep. A big thought packed into so few words - very clever! You used the prompt very well!

[angelschallenge]

Deadline for the Storybook Challenge

Hey everybody! Just a reminder that the deadline for the Storybook challenge is on July 31st which is four days from now. Please get your stories submitted by then or ask for an extension if you think you’ll need one.

Have a great day!

@undiscoveries @sushisecor @thecuriouscrusader @writingqueen75

[angelschallenge]

Hey I would like a prompt for your challenge blog

Awesomeness! Here is your prompt:

The bit of his mind he knew as himself was still there, but it was trying to stay afloat on a fountain of tumultuous darkness.

~ Good Omens by Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett, page 344

[angelschallenge]

I'd so graciously like to ask for a storybook challenge spot please? *drops curtsey*

Your gracious ask has been noticed. *returns curtsy*. This is your prompt:

“Really, I don’t have a problem with public school. It’s just too early, and I don’t want to get up and take them.”

- Diary of a Jackwagon by Tim Hawkins, page 38

[angelschallenge]

Hi! I'd love to join your storybook Challenge 😊

Yay! The more the merrier! Here is your prompt:

“Good. Keep close to the others. And I mean close. Not just in the same room. Stay in the same part of the room. Promise?”

- Phantoms by Dean Koontz, page 211

[angelschallenge]

Aye! I'm interested in participating in the storybook challenge! (my writing blog is @winchester-chronicles)

Awesomeness! Here is your prompt:

Nature governs its creations equally; a man can perish as easily as a plant can be destroyed beneath one’s heel.

- The Resurrectionist by E. B. Hudspeth, page 32

[angelschallenge]

Challenge #4: Storybook Challenge

Guuuuyyyssss this blog kinda got abandoned, didn’t it? How about we bring it back? I’ve got nothing to do for the rest of the summer and I’m in the mood for a challenge.

Let’s get to it then.

The theme is “Storybooks”.

In short, each prompt will be a line or two from a random page in random book from my bookshelf. If you’d like to join, please send me an ask, and I will reply with the line, book, and page number. For guidelines and submission format, click the “read more” break below.

GUIDELINES

1. There is no length maximum or minimum, but if you exceed 500 words, please add a “read more” break.

2. You can write any type of story (drabble, one shot, multichapter). If you choose to write a multichapter story, please use the prompt in the first part and submit only that part.

3. You can write for any character or pairing EXCEPT Wincest, and NO SMUT allowed for this challenge.

4. You can write any style you want - reader insert, OC, AU, crossover, anything.

5. You must tag anything that requires a warning - death, panic attacks, etc.

6. Your prompt can be incorporated any way you deem fit as long as I can tell it has been used. (I recommend bolding the prompt to make it easier to see).

7. Your submission MUST use or mention at least one character from Supernatural.

8. THE DEADLINE IS JULY 31. If you think you will need a time extension, please shoot me a message/ask saying how much more time you think you’ll need.

SUBMISSIONS

To submit, you can either tag @angelschallenge or submit it here. IF YOU TAG ME TO SUBMIT IT, please remember that I cannot add a “read more” break in posts I’ve been tagged in, so please put one in yourself.

When you’re finished with your story, please follow the format below:

Title: (in the title bar)

Author: (the blog you are participating with)

Warning: (if applicable)

Word Count:

Prompt:

Summary: (optional)

Story

Tagging people who might be interested: @deanssweetheart23 @dancing-the-hellfire-rumba @tinabean37 @percussiongirl2017 @winchester-chronicles @sushisecor @wildfirewinchester @mrswhozeewhatsis @kaz2y5-imagines

[angelschallenge]

Spring Prompt Challenge Master List

Between the Lines (Dean x Reader) - by @deanssweetheart23

Soldiers (Dean x Reader) - by @dancing-the-hellfire-rumba

[dancing-the-hellfire-rumba]

Soldiers

Warnings: ANGST. wee bit of fluff

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Challenge: This was @angelschallenge  ‘s Spring Challenge. My prompt was Polliwog [it’s in bold letters in the text]

Word Count: around 1k

A/N: To be entirely honest to y’all, I don’t really like the ending. feedback is greatly appreciated :D Also really want to thank @impala-dreamer for quickly rushing the editting of this fic in her busy schedule. When I saw the mistakes I made, I was banging my head on my desk so thanks for saing my ass.

There were very few times you had the luxury to act like a child when you were young. Being brought into the hunting life at a very young age and making it your first priority to protect your younger siblings, acting immaturely, having a normal childhood was just out of the question. And your family made damn sure you were aware of that. Every moment you spent as an actual kid and not a soldier in training you owed to Bobby Singer and the Winchester brothers.

Your family were best friends with the one and only John Winchester. When you were born, a total freak accident that was simply not supposed to happen, you entered the hunting life unwillingly, head first. Everything about the life was simply horrific. The blood, the pain, the physical and mental suffering, the traumatic experiences, images, none of it was made for people, never mind a seven-year-old girl with pigtails.

Then you met the two brothers, Sam and Dean, and that shitty reality became a bit more bearable. Because even though life was throwing at you all the shit that she could muster up, you had two people there for you, two wonderful boys you called your best friends. When your two twin siblings were born, not so much of an accident this time, you and the brothers swore to protect them. And by doing so you had to train more and forget your age. You weren’t a child, no. You were a soldier.

Once in a while, ol’ Bobby Singer would take all kids to the park, just to get you in touch with your age, give you a taste of what it’s like. His heart broke at all five of you being ripped of the right to be plain children. Ungrateful, whining, stupid, immature, happy children with toothless grins and unrealistic dreams. He’d let you run off, play baseball with the boys and push your and your little sister’s swings. Occasionally, you and Dean, whom you were closer to than Sammy, ran off to the lake near the park, trying to catch polliwogs and butterflies, giggling and making meatballs and cakes out of dirt, grass and flowers.

You could count those moments on one hand.

You eventually had grown to a powerful, graceful, strong, adventurous, and independent woman. Your 18th birthday soon arrived and you ran off with 21-year-old Dean, in his beloved impala, away for the night. The best night of your lives.

He surprised you earlier in the day by grabbing you mid-training by the waist and spinning you around. You shrieked his name, grinning like a mad fool. He made you change and took you to a grassy field surrounded by trees. He got out of the car, grabbing some beers from the trunk and a blanket, and spreading it on the hood of the car. He jumped on, pulling you with him and to his side.

You had obviously fallen for him; for the green eyed, golden-hearted, amazing person that he was. How could you not? You had known him as long as you could remember and could honestly not see your life without him.

You had leaned against each other, looking up at the sunset and admiring the beauty of it all. When the stars appeared in the sky you started explaining the constellations to Dean. You told him how you and Sam had done all-nighters just studying about them because they were so interesting. You pointed, titled, and talked about the stories behind each one. When you were out of lore, Dean started talking about the childhood memories, the pranks, the laughs, the shits and giggles, the parties, the drinks, the tears, the stories… You talked about everything until it was around 4 in the morning.

You looked up at Dean who stared at you lovingly, pulling you closer and drawing your lips to his. You kissed back, more willing than ever, wanting nothing more than to stay there for eternity.

Needless to say, Dean was your first. At everything. Your first kiss, your first sexual experience, and most of all, the one and only love of your life.

“Here’s to us,” you said, leaning against the cold stone. You placed the bottle of Johnnie on your lips and swallowed a mouthful, feeling the sweet liquor trailing down your throat leaving a soothing burn behind it. You leaned your head back on the silver lettering of the tombstone.

Dean Winchester

1979-2017

It never really stopped hurting. The moment that demonic motherfucker stabbed Dean’s spine and smiled so sickeningly wide, you felt your knees buckle. Of course the bastard is dead. Before he even made it a step further, he was on the ground with an angel blade in his throat. Dean was on his knees, with a hand on his chest, struggling to breathe. Blood was spilling from his mouth and a panicked look was on his face.

“No no no no,” you had cursed, falling to your knees in front of you. You grabbed him from his flannel, looking over his shoulder, to his back, inspecting the wound. It was clean through.

“Hey, hey look at me. Dean! You’ll be fine, Sammy and I will patch you up, you’ll be fine” you pulled him back to look at his beautiful eyes which were now dark and not focusing. “You’ll be fine, stay with me, keep your eyes open, come on.” I cupped one hand on his face, “Dean!” He felt boneless, his eyes rolling to the back of his head and fluttering shut.

You were crying. Of course you were. It had been months but the wound was fresh and all you could do was cry about the lost love of your life. Your dead best friend.

“Y/N?” A voice called out behind you. You didn’t move, watching Sam appear in front of you. “I thought I’d find you here,” he sighed, looking at the grave. You looked down, folding your legs to your chest. Sam took a seat next to you, letting you rest your head on his shoulder. You glanced at the bottle, passing it on to him. He took a sip and placed his arm around your waist.

“It’s our anniversary,” you whimpered, your eyes brimming with tears.

“I know,” he whispered and tightened his hold on you. “What a great fucking birthday you’re having,” he muttered. You snorted humorlessly, nodding your head in agreement.

“I should’ve done something,” you said. “I should’ve seen the bastard coming, warned Dean, something.” You sniffled, burying your face in his neck and beginning to sob.

“This is in no way on you,” he said, letting you wet his shirt with your tears. He didn’t say anything else. He just let you cry it out, holding you close to him.

As time passed you became calmer, taking comfort in Sam’s embrace, eventually entirely stopping. You were left tired, drained, completely empty. Sam said nothing but got up and stretched his hand out to you. You stared at it and took it, letting him effortlessly pull you up. His hand didn’t leave yours, offering mental support.

“Come on.” He pulled you away from the tombstone. “Let’s go home”

@deanxfuckingadorablexwinchester @potato-that-needs-therapy @imagining-supernatural @imissyoualittlemoreeveryday @jpadjackles @winchestersnco @deanscolette @deanssweetheart23 @iwantthedean

[angelschallenge]

Ahhh . . . I’m not crying, you’re crying.

Also, super sorry I didn’t reblog this sooner. Kinda forgot about the challenge . . .

[angelschallenge]

Between The Lines

Title: Between The Lines

Summary: When Martin calls the brothers to tell them that a vampire has been killing people in Benny’s town, you tag along with the eldest Winchester to help him find his “blood-junkie” friend. But, even though Dean’s grateful for your help, he does not understand your motives and tells you that much. Which sucks. Because you can’t just admit you’re hopelessly in love with him. Right?

Author: deanssweetheart23

Characters: Dean Winchester x reader, Benny Laffite (mentioned), Elizabeth (mentioned)

Word count: 2053

Warnings: None really. Maybe some language and season 8 spoilers? Mostly fluff.

Author’s Notes: This is my submission for @angelschallenge Spring Challenge. Thank you for letting me participate, Angel, I always love your challenges! My prompt was “rainbow” (included in bold in the text below). 

This is set during season 8′s episode “Citizen Fang” and takes place right after Dean’s conversation with Elizabeth (Benny’s great-granddaughter).

The sounds of birds chirping and trees rustling in the wind overwhelmed your senses as you leaned against Dean’s muscle car and wrapped your arms around your middle. It was still a bit chilly outside but as you took in the view in front of you, drinking in every beautiful detail of the magnificent landscape with fervor, you didn’t mind.

You’d always been fond of rainbows, ever since you were a little kid. You loved the way they glistened into the sky, loved the hues of green and orange, indigo and violet that danced together and created a bridge that joined your concrete world with the unknown, the immensity of heaven’s vault.

So, you ignored the cold wind as it caressed your skin and breathed it all in, grateful for a moment of stagnation. God only knew how rare such moments were for hunters.

“There you are. Thought you said you’d wait in the car.” Dean’s voice crawled into your thoughts, gruff but smooth like the Tennessee Whiskey he loved so much.

Titling your head, you smiled and reached for the coffee cup he was holding your way, mumbling a quick thank you as your fingers brushed against his.

“Well, technically, it’s not much of a difference.” You pointed out, nudging him. “Did you find him?”

“Nope.” He mumbled, running a hand over his face. “Whole thing was a bust. He didn’t show up for work today. Told his boss he’ll be gone for a few days.”

You nodded, fighting off the urge to smooth the crease between his brows. You hated seeing him like that, worried and mad at himself, hated knowing that, even though he trusted Benny with his life, a part of him was still waiting for the other shoe to drop.

That had always been Dean’s problem. He always waited for the other shoe to drop.

“Dammit.”

“Hey. We’ll find him. It’s what we do.” You said soothingly, reaching out to touch his chest. “And, until then, you can just look at the bright side.”

“There’s a bright side to this?”

“’Course there is.” You replied as you turned around to point towards the little diner. “When this is all over you can come back here and take that waitress out on a date.”

Dean raised a perplexed eyebrow and narrowed his eyes.

“A date?”

Humming in faux indifference, you chew on your bottom lip, eyes focused on the landscape before you.

“Yup. Next time though, try not to drool over a witness, yeah?”

“Pffft. I was not- wait a minute. Are you jealous?” he asked incredulously, a playful smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

Yeah. Madly.

“Jealous? Why would I be jealous?”

God, you were a terrible actress.

“I dunno. Maybe you have a thing for me. I mean, I am pretty awesome.”

“Yeah. Okay, Romeo.” You scoffed, chuckling a bit as you wrapped your hands tighter around the plastic cup of coffee and pulled it to your chest, trying to warm up a bit.

Almost a second later, Dean was pulling off his leather jacket, eyebrows furrowed in concern.

“Here. Take it.”

“No, Dean I’m-”

“Y/N, you’re obviously cold.”

“But-”

“Sweetheart, you’re no good to be if you’re sick.” He insisted, smiling, just a little. “Just put it on.”

If it weren’t for the look on his face, you would have denied his offer. But there was something about the way he looked at you, green eyes wide and pleading, that made you change your mind.

You didn’t want Dean to worry about you. And, well, you would never be able to say no to that freckled face of his but he didn’t need to know that.

So, you wrapped the leather jacket around your body and relished in its warmth and breathed in that scent that you had come to so fundamentally associate with Dean; apple, cinnamon, motor oil and gun powder. It was a complicated and unexpected combination, but then again, Dean Winchester was, in his essence, a simple, yet complicated man.

“Thank you.” you murmured and he smiled, genuine and fond.

“Anytime, kid.” He replied, licking his lips, eyes soft as they gazed at you, something almost wistful on his face.  

A half-smile tugged at your lips, eyebrows raised as you waited for him to say what he obviously wanted.

“I’ve got a question for you.”

“What kind of question? Because if this about the lace underwear you found in my bag this morning, I swear to God, Winchester…”

“Hey. I would never.” He stated, feigning innocence but there was something about the way he grinned at you, eyes heated and brows slanted, that made you think that perhaps he hadn’t forgotten all about that.

It didn’t surprise you. Dean and you had been friends for a very, very long time and, even though you knew he would never see you as more than just the annoying little girl that tried to befriend Sammy every time they visited Bobby’s, your relationship was full of playful remarks and flirty comments, if only because he loved to either piss you off or make you blush.

“Mmhmm.”

“I wouldn’t. I’m not some kind of perv, Y/N. But since you did mention it…”

“Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“Finish that sentence and I will personally castrate you.” you warned, glancing at him fiercely but he only laughed, that boyish grin you loved so much not leaving his face.

“Easy there, tiger. I happen to like my naughty bits. And, besides, it’s not what I wanted to ask, I promise.”

“Go ahead then.”  

He nodded and cleared his throat, looking away for a second like he was struggling to find the right words.

“You don’t really know Benny.”

“Not a question, Dean.”

He playfully rolled his eyes at your teasing, trying -and failing- to suppress his gorgeous smile.

“Jesus, sweetheart, will you give me a break?”

You chuckled, shaking your head.

“Sorry. Keep going.”

“Right…” he muttered, blinking. “Like I said, you don’t know Benny. He’s nothing to you. I mean, he’s a vamp and you’re a hunter. And we don’t have, I dunno, solid proof he’s not the one killing those people. So, why d’ you come with me?”

You bit on your bottom lip, your throat going dry. The rational part of you knew that you should have seen this question coming, but you had learnt a long time ago that all reason flew out of the window when Dean Winchester was concerned.

You sighed a bit and sipped some of your coffee leisurely, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

“Because I trust you. You’d never do anything to put me in danger…” you explained, pressing your lips together. “And, Benny…” you rubbed a hand over your forearm, swallowing thickly “…he might be a vampire but he’s also the one who got you out of Purgatory, so…”

Dean nodded, lowering his eyes to the ground.

There was a moment of complete, unsettling silence and then-

“I never got to thank you. For, uh, you know, looking for me while I was gone.”

It came out as a whisper, his voice much quieter than he’d intended and then you were shaking your head, eyes wide and sad.

“Don’t. God, don’t. I- Dean, I’d do anything for you.”

Green orbs darted up to meet your Y/E/C ones.

“Sweetheart-”

“No. Whatever you’re about to say, just don’t. We both know you’d do the same for me. It’s what we do, D. We’re family.”

It was almost indiscernible but you could have sworn that his face fell just a bit.

“Is that what you and I really are, Y/N? Family?”

You furrowed your eyebrows, your heart beating wildly in your chest.

“What we…?” Deep breath. “What do you mean? What else could we be?”

A half-smiled played at the corners of his lips.

“You really don’t see it, do you?”

“See what?”

Instead of replying, Dean smirked and moved until he had you pressed against the cold, metal door of the Impala, setting your cup on the hood and eyeing you intensely in a way he never had before.

Warmth flooded your cheeks and you opened your mouth to say something, anything, but he clasped his hand on the nape of your neck and leaned in. That was enough for the breath to hitch in your throat because he was right there and his eyes were too dark and his sweetened breath on your face too much.  

And then he was kissing you, slow but deep, lips dancing with yours like he wanted to remember the way you tasted, one of his hands gripping at your waist, the other threading into your hair like he was afraid you were going to vanish into thin air until neither of you could take it anymore.

You opened your eyes slowly. He was already looking at you, face close enough for you to see the different hues of green in his orbs, the freckles that dusted his smooth skin, a smile.

His thumb brushed over your bottom lip.

“That.” He whispered, voice hoarse.

Your breathing was rapid but you tried to speak anyway.

“Dean, you… You kissed me.”

The green-eyed man chuckled, seemingly amused, and tucked a stray of hair behind your ear gently.

“Yeah. I’m aware.”

“Um. Why?”

A shrug.

“Because I wanted to.”

“But-”

“No. Just listen, okay? I want this. Want you. I want you like I’ve never wanted anything else in my life, sweetheart. You make me feel things I’ve never…” he paused, rubbing at his neck. “Shit. This is harder than I thought.”

“Dean, you don’t have to-”

“No. I do.” He muttered, lacing your fingers with his. “I do because you need to know, Y/N. You need to know that you were never just a friend to me. You need to know that when I was in Purgatory, I kept thinking that I should have said something, done something, while I had the chance. And now I’m back and I can’t just… I had to try, you know? I had to see if it was all in my head or if-”

“And what if I told you that it wasn’t all in your head? What would you do then?”

He swallowed, his grip on your waist tightening as his gaze roamed over your face before settling on your lips again.

“I’d kiss you again.”

God yes. 

You wanted him to kiss you again, needed him to, possible more than you needed oxygen in that moment, so you pressed yourself on your toes and leaned closer until your mouth was millimeters away from his, nose brushing up against his own.

“Good.”

It came out as a whisper, breathy and loose and not as seductive as you would have hoped for, but it was everything he needed to hear.

Letting out a shaky breath, he ducked in once more, his mouth on yours urgent and hungry and lingering, but emotional all the same, a kiss that whispered into your lips all those things Dean was afraid to say out loud.

It went on for what seemed like hours and when it was over, he leaned his forehead against yours, cradling your face.

“Jesus. Should have done that a long time ago.”

You hummed in agreement, lazily running your fingers through his short hair.

“So. What now?”

He sighed, warm breath blowing over your face.

“I don’t know. But if we do this, if you want us to do this, I want it to be all in.”

“All chips on the table?”

He gave you an easy smile, expression soft as he took your hand and pulled it over his heart.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way, kid.” He whispered and brushed his lips sweetly against yours, then pulled away, grinning, full and gorgeous.

“What?”

“Does this mean I’ll get to see you in that underwear?”

You groaned in frustration, shoving at his chest.

“Jesus Christ, Dean. You’re such an ass.”

“Mmhmm. But I’m also insanely handsome and you love me.”

You let out a dramatic sign, eyes narrowed, brows knitted together in faux annoyance.

“I’m regretting this already.” You whined.

It didn’t matter. You were glowing.

“Too late, kid.” He chuckled, pecking your temple. “I got you now.”

I got you too, D.

I got you too.

[angelschallenge]

Wow okay, your challenge looks really fun. Care to give me a prompt? I'd really like to try it :)

Hiya! I got your other message, don’t worry.

Your prompt is polliwog.

[angelschallenge]

Hi! It's me again! :) Just saw that you're doing another challenge and I'd like to sign up with a Dean x reader pairing. Is that okay?

Totally okay!

Your prompt is Rainbow.

[angelschallenge]

Challenge #3: Spring

Hey guys! This blog has been quiet for a while, simply because I didn’t know what kind of challenge to have next, but I’ve got one I’d like to do.

The theme is Spring.

(continued below the cut)

Sign Up: Shoot me an ask that says you’d like to sign up and who you would like to write for, and I’ll answer with a prompt that has to do with spring. Examples include flowers, rain, Easter, and others.

Deadline: April 14th.

Next, start writing! These are the rules:

1. Your story can be as long or as short as you want. If you write more than one part, please submit only the first part.

2. Any character/pairing/genre is welcome except for Wincest. Daddy!Winchester, sister!Winchester, an OC, whatever you want.

3. The story must be Supernatural-themed.

4. Please tag all warnings (smut, angst, trigger warnings, etc.)

5. How you incorporate your prompt is up to you as long as it’s noticeable.

6. You may begin writing as soon as you receive your prompt, and you may submit as soon as you’re finished.

7. If you think you will need a time extension, send me an ask and we can work something out.

Format for Submissions:

Title (in the title bar - include “Part One” if you are writing more than one part”) Author (tag the blog you are participating with) Pairing Warning Word Count Prompt A/N: for @angelschallenge “Spring Challenge” Story

Hope you have fun!

[angelschallenge]

Challenge Master List

Challenge 1: Snippet Challenge

Challenge 2: Gif + Adjective Challenge

Challenge 3: Spring Prompt Challenge

[angelschallenge]

Gif+Adj Submission Master List

A big thanks to everyone who participated! You all had wonderful stories!

Past vs. Present  (Sam x Reader) - @percussiongirl2017

Endgame (Dean x Reader) - @deanssweetheart23

This Is the One (Charlie Bradbury) - @winchester-chronicles