look at those moves in the first gif

Here he comes: the Vagabond, with his Vagabutt, and his fierce Vaga… Run.

I’m getting back into the groove of animating again. Like, damn, look at this. It’s smooth as huck. I’m super proud of it. Next is to get a feel for Geoff’s character and then maybe start storyboarding the Animated?? I dunno. First time’s the charm, as they always say. 

more coming s o o n.

Imagine building IKEA furniture with Chris.

A/N: This is a request from @brobrobreja. I’m so sorry it took so long, the mini-series had my hands pretty tied. I hope you like it! X

You sat on the other side of the bedroom, the instruction manual for your new bed frame in your hand. You giggled softly at the cartoon man who looked as clueless as the both of you, wondering if you should do as he did; call IKEA for help. Of course you couldn’t because your boyfriend, Chris believed he was more than capable of installing the bed frame himself. You looked up at him and bit back your smile when you saw him narrow his eyes at a strange metal piece, muttering cuss words under his breath.

“What does the manual say?” He quizzed as he looked up at you. “Where does this piece go?” He held up the strange metal piece and you studied it for a moment before looking back down at the manual. “Well?” He asked after a few minutes of silence.

“Beats me,” you looked up and shrugged; he chuckled wearily and shook his head. “What?” You giggled. “I told you I’m not good at these things, why do you think I called you?” He sighed and got to his feet, dodging loose pieces on your bedroom floor as he made his way over to you.

“Give me that,” he took the manual from you then settled on the floor behind you with his legs on either side. “You’re lucky you’re cute, Y/N.” You smiled and leaned back against him, resting your cheek against his bearded face. “Let’s see,” he studied the manual, his arm absentmindedly draped around your waist. “Well, it looks like that metal piece goes…Hm,” he hummed with pursed lips. “Maybe it’s meant to go in the joint?”

“Maybe you should just let me call the staff at IKEA,” you whispered then kissed his jawline when he chuckled. “We’ve been doing this for hours and we still haven’t made any progress. It’s eight-thirty and we haven’t had food, can we just order some takeout and call IKEA in the morning?”

“What are we going to sleep on tonight then?”

“You do realize a bed frame is just to prop the mattress up, right?” You teased him and he rolled his eyes, smiling. “It doesn’t change the fact that a mattress is still a mattress. Just leave the mess here and we’ll sleep out in the living room, it’ll be like camping except without the yucky stuff.”

“You mean nature?” He quizzed, chuckling.

“You know it,” you winked and got off the ground. “I’m going to go order some food, what are we feeling tonight?” He shrugged, giving you one of those ‘you pick’ faces. “Well, I feel like Chinese so- General Chang’s it is then.” You held out a hand for him to take so you could pull him to his feet. “Coming?”

“I’ll come when the food gets here, I just want to give this another shot.” He told you, returning his gaze to the manual. “I mean- it’s just a bed frame,” he looked up at you when he heard you chuckle, “how hard can it be to figure out? I’m Captain America, for crying out loud,” he said and tried not to laugh when you did.

“Okay Cap,” you kissed the top of his head. “I’ll come get you when the food’s here.”

Forty-five minutes later, the food arrived and Chris still hadn’t made progress with your bed frame. When you went into your bedroom to get him, his head was hung in defeat. “I don’t wike it,” he imitated his nephew’s catchphrase, making you laugh.

“C'mon Cap,” you grabbed his hands and pulled him to his feet. “Let it go,” you told him as you wrapped an arm around his waist; his arm draped around your shoulder as the two of you made your way out into the living room. “We’ll call the guy in the morning.”

“IKEA should really have better instruction manuals,” he muttered bitterly. “There is no way anyone can build anything from that dumb sheet of paper. It doesn’t even have instructions, there are just numbers and pictures.”

“Let it go,” you chuckled, rubbing his back.

“We wouldn’t have this problem if you’d just move in with me,” he mumbled into your hair; he was a little nervous about bringing up the subject again, the first decline was a little gut wrenching. You stopped walking and he stopped with you, wincing when you looked up at him. “I know you want to be independent and this place is nearer to work-”

“Those are the real reason I won’t move in with you, Chris,” you confessed then pressed your lips together when he narrowed his eyes. “I just-” you began then huffed. “I don’t think you realize what moving in together means.”

“Living together instead of living separately?”

“Funny,” you slapped his arm, biting back your smile when he chuckled. “I’m talking about the reality of it, like are you sure you’re going to be okay coming home to my face all day every day? What if we have a big fight and you can’t get any space from me? What if you just want some down time with your guys and I’m in the way? What if you decide-” He cut you off, pressing his lips against yours.

“My biggest wish is to come home to your face all day every day, Y/N,” he told you, smiling. “And you should know by now that the last thing I want is space when we fight, it just makes the problem bigger. As for downtime with my guys?” He chuckled. “I’d love for you to be there. Always, because you are my girl and there is no one I’d rather spend time with.” You smiled and he chuckled, “any other concerns you need me to address?”

“What if you decide I’m much too annoying to live with?”

“You’re annoying all the time,” he poked your side, laughing when you scoff. “But I’m still here, aren’t I?” He quizzed, sliding his arms around your waist and to your lower back. “C'mon, move in with me. I have proper furniture there, nothing that needs assembling.” He teased and you chuckled. “We’re going to be living together when you marry me,” he reminded you and you smiled, feeling your cheeks heat up at that. “Why not just get a head start? C'mon,” he pressed when you smiled, “it’ll be fun.”

“Fine,” you gave in, smiling. “Let’s move in together.”

“Yes!” He cheered and hugged you. “It’s going to be great, I’ll hire a moving truck ASAP.”

“Just out of curiosity,” you teased him as you broke the hug, wrapping your arms around his neck as his hands moved to your hips. “What makes you so sure I’m going to marry you?”

“My wonderful furniture assembling skills, of course.”

(But why are the wings gone?)

With the grit of rocky sand cutting through the fabric of his jeans digging into his knees and the slowly cooling heat of Cas’ body sinking into his thigh, Dean felt an expanse of nothing stretch out before him. The last burst of Cas’ dying grace scorched the ground, yawning black wings, crooked, ragged, seared black into Dean’s vision. Through murky moonlight, he could piece together each tear, each cracked and failing bone, each brutal injury caused by the fall.

Time, cruel and relentless, moved forward, but Dean refused to follow after. When he looked to the sky, he saw no sign of help. When he looked for Sam, he realized that he’d gone already.

It was all numbness at first, and the quiet resolve to just wait here then.

The span of breath swelled to minutes, to hours and suddenly, Dean couldn’t breathe at all. Numbness gave way to fury the likes of which the Mark of Cain couldn’t even fathom. Those wings, those goddamn wings did not belong here. Launching to his feet with a howl and a sob, Dean dug his hands into the earth around Cas’ body, scrubbing away the ash, the sand that told the truth about the end of Cas’ story. He scraped and he tore, grit and jagged stones chafing cuts into his palms until they were raw.

When finally the task was done, wings gone, Dean crawled back to Cas’ side. Hazy blue dawn began to turn golden and now while Dean waited, at least he would not have to look at the burnt broken wings in the harsh light of day.

Request Scenario: You are feeling insecure and Mark tells you there’s no reason to. 

Genre: FLUFFF 

Word Count: 1379 

A/N: squealing squealing squealing.


It was a road you’ve been down more times that you can remember. It was a place where you swore to yourself you will never go back again, but words are easier said than done because here you were again, staring at yourself in the mirror. It wasn’t even judging yourself anymore, it was like greeting an old friend, ahh hello, you are still here I see. No matter how fucking hard you tried, each flaw was still there, etched into you, bone deep. Never leaving, always reminding just how imperfect you were. Looking blankly down at your now damp tshirt from the tears that have been continuously falling from your eyes, you unconsciously reached over for a tissue and carefully dabbed away the salty pain away. 

Numbly walking out of the bathroom, you saw your ever-growing-in-fame boyfriend, Mark in TV. Reaching over to give him a call before the feeling of inadequacy came flooding right back as quick as it had sparked in the first place. You watched him as he danced on stage, biting those lips that still made your heart race after all these years, his body moving along with the beat of the music, pieces of his hair stuck onto his forehead as he glistened sweat. You could almost laugh about how ridiculously good he looked, how is he real, it’s like he is a freaking god. 

In spite, you chucked the flimsy wadded-up tissue at the screen. “You good-looking asshole, why did you even take a second look at me! WHY COULDN’T YOU JUST HAVE LEFT ME BE. WHY DID YOU HAVE TO MAKE ME FEEL SO SHITTY ALL THE TIME.” You broke down, you were so emotionally drained that the remaining pain just came vomiting out as you whispered, “Why can’t I be good enough for you…” Knees buckling as you collapsed onto the ground. You were so defeated, Mark wanted to punch himself for leaving you to drown in all that internal agony. You had accidentally hit the call button before your emotional breakdown causing your cries to ring throughout the suv containing the members of GOT7. Everybody knew you as their little sister and wanted so hard to run back to you and surround you with as much love as possible, it ripped each of them apart hearing your cries, but they also knew it was Mark’s job that cannot be replaced. He wouldn’t allow it. 

“Hey Mark, don’t grip your phone so hard, you are going to break—” Jackson tried to calm his hyung down, seeing how angry he was at himself. 

“Do not tell me what to do. Damn it, can’t we drive faster?!” Mark shouted, slamming his fist against the foggy window, dispersing the mist clinging onto the window. 

The moment the car was even remotely close to the distant to your home, Mark slammed open the door and sprinted into your house, ramming into the corridor walls as he entered. You bolted straight up from the ground, frantically rubbing away the tears stains from your cheeks, not wanting Mark to see you in this state. 

“Mark! Baby! You were great on stage! As per usual!” You tried you hardest to be perky and excited, like you usually were, but the hiccups between each words left you exposed and vulnerable. 

“Y/N. Come with me.” Mark eyes were glassy and tears were threatening to fall.  

“What? What’s wrong? Are you hurt?” You did not know what he knew, concerned that your baby was injured. But he gently wrapped his arms around your body before carrying you towards the bedroom. 

“Put me down! Mark! I’m heavy, oh my gosh, please put me down.” You declarations immediately faded away as you saw a single tear glide down his flawless face. 

“Mark?” You whispered, wondering if he had somehow heard your little commotion. There was no way though… 

Placing you gently onto the bed, Mark sat next to you and stared at you. Knowing that thinking about how beautiful you were, even with reddened eyelids and pink-tinted nose, was useless, Mark took a deep breath and spoke. 

“You remember the first time I met you?” You nodded rigidly in response, mind drifting to the unforgettable cold winter day. “We were at the pet store, I was getting food for Coco and there you were stealing my new puppy right from under my arms when she ran towards you." 

All your sad thoughts were suddenly washed away when you remembered seeing the attractive boy and the adorable white fluffball in his arms. You were shamelessly gawking over how gorgeous he was before the puppy in his arms jumped off and ran over to you–making you drop off everything in your arms because you wanted to catch her. 

"The first time I saw your face, you had the most beautiful and brightest smile on your face. Your eyes were literally shining as you played with Coco, my heart wanted to jump out of my entire body because I have never seen such a beautiful girl in my life- and I never will. And oh your laugh, do you know how much I love your laugh?” Mark tilted your chin up because the entire time you were drilling holes into the mattress, trying to absorb the words Mark was saying. You gulped, not familiar with such strong emotions. 

“I’ve done the most dumb things just to hear your laugh. Things I will never do for anybody else, things I will probably never admit doing if you ever tell people, but I do it because I love you so much.” Unbeknownst to you, although Mark seemed so collected, he was internally bursting at the seams. He wanted blurt out everything he loved about you, even if it didn’t make sense. He didn’t know if what he was saying was making a difference in how you felt, but he wanted to do whatever was possible to make you understand how treasured you are by him. 

“Mark…” You managed to get out, you could feel everything all at once, bubbling over within you. 

“I’m not done Y/N.” He held his hand up, pretending to be offended, causing you to release a light giggle. Oh this boy… 

“You are one of the sweetest person I’ve ever met in my entire life, although you can be sassy at times, which is the best. I love how much you care about me and the rest of the GOT7, hell, sometimes you give me perspective from the fans so I understand why they do certain things.” Tears were smoothly rolling down your cheeks, while the pad of his thumbs caught each one. Wiping them away tenderly. 

“And your body is perfection, it was handmade from God himself. Every curve of your body, I love so much, it’s amazing to hold you. So soft and there will never be a day where I will find a flaw in your body. You are also so so sexy much when you are moaning my name.” This made you flush red, eyes widening and staring at Mark in disbelief. Yet, he still continued on, gently rubbing lazy circles on your thigh. 

“Life being an idol can be so difficult and so pressuring and I pity the rest of the guys because at least I get to come home to you. I get to call you after a long day, see your face, and hear your voice. Do you understand how important you are for me to live?” Mark’s face was now wet with tears too as you two began to laugh at each other. 

“Oh we are a mess.” You hiccuped, messily wiping away his tears with your hands. “Mark, I love you so much. What have I done to ever deserve you.” You wrapped your arms around his neck, wanting to hold him forever. 

“I could ask you the same thing, beautiful.” Mark mumbled against the base of your neck, sending shivers down your spine. “Don’t let anybody tell you anything different because you are just right.” He added the cheesiness wink and finger-guns at the end. 

“Did you just…” You mouth gapped open before crashing into the bed backwards laughing, having to clutch your stomach because of the pain caused by the constant movement of your body. 

“See, this is my amazing girl.” Mark chuckled, looking at your lovingly as you continued to laugh. 


Oh gosh, blushing from my own writing… Hope you all like it and know that YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL. BECAUSE ANYBODY WHO SAYS OTHERWISE DOESN’T MATTER AT ALL. xx 

//gif is not mine//

“Dad, I know how to put the damn gun back together,” Ellie huffed, putting her hands on her hips. She was so much like you it wasn’t even at funny. I couldn’t believe that our little girl was seventeen. A few months ago I had been running some jackass boy out of the bunker. She claimed she was in love. I just rolled my eyes and told her she didn’t know anything about love yet. She was too damn young. 

“Listen. If you want to go on a hunt with your mom, uncle Sam, and me, you’re gonna show me you know how to put the damn gun back together,” I retorted, putting the pieces down on the table in front of her. 

She rolled her eyes dramatically, picking up the pieces of the pistol, swiftly putting it back together without even having to look at it. I couldn’t help by smile proudly, a smirk creeping onto my lips. 

“That’s my girl,” I said, my eyes darting to you as you stepped through the door of the shooting range. 

“Now let her shoot the damn thing, Dean,” you laughed. “I assume she has proven her point,” you said placing your hands on your hips. 

I threw back my head in laughter as I watched Y/N, standing there next to our daughter. Like mother, like daughter. It warmed my heart to see the two of them, so beautiful and so much alike. When my eyes fell on the two of them, they were both scowling at me. Y/N had an eyebrow cocked, her arms now crossed in front of her. Ellie still had her hands on her hips, her brows knit in frustration. 

“What the hell is so funny, Winchester? Let her shoot the damn gun. She’s proved her point,” you huffed, reaching for the gun. 

I let go of the pistol, knowing when to concede a battle. Y/N was determined to teach our daughter how to hunt. When she put her mind to something, nothing would stand in her way. 

“You two are so much alike. We are so screwed,” I laughed, wrapping my arms around your waist, kissing your neck. 

“Way to suck up, Dad,” Ellie said, rolling her eyes in mock disgust. “You’re disgusting,” she scoffed. 

“Tell me about it,” Sam laughed as he walked into the room. “Show us what you got, Ellie girl,” Sam said, taking the gun from your hand and handing it to her. 

I didn’t have time to react before she was aiming and firing, hitting the target perfectly. Y/N and I stood there, gaping at her and Sam. 

“What the hell, dude?” I said, glaring at Sam.

Ellie wouldn’t meet my gaze but Sam stood between us, taking a protective stance. “We’ve been practicing. You’re too damn protective, Dean. She needed to learn,” Sam said, turning to wink at his niece.

“I can’t even look at you two right now,” Dean huffed and walked out of the range, and you were hot on his trail. 

“Stay,” you pointed at your daughter. “You too, Sammy,” you warned. He didn’t move. He knew better then to test you.

“Dean,” you said, coming up behind in the hallway. “Dean,” you persisted, grabbing his hand and turning him around. 

“She is growing up too damn fast,” he said, running his hands through his hair. 

“I know, but we’ve got to let her,” you said, placing a hand on his face, forcing him to look at you. He kissed you then, the kiss full of as much love and passion as the first kiss you shared all those years ago. 

“I love you, Y/N,” he whispered. 

“You better, Winchester,” you smiled against his lips. 

“Forever and always, sweetheart,” he replied, kissing you fiercely.

This was a double submission by both @mein1928 and @thing-you-do-with-that-thing Hope you guys enjoy it. It’s way different then usual!!!

I can’t help it. This is the cutest thing ever. Will anything ever top the Paris interview? I’m not sure. Look how delicately Louis moves that curl. Look at how Harry doesn’t even flinch because he’s so used to Louis touching him. He almost breathes in a smile as Louis rearranges him. And those goddamn little hearts floating up from the point of contact? Sigh. These boys will be the death of me. 

BTW, If this is your gif creation please let me know & I’ll credit you. You deserve major applause because this is so simple and so sweet and it gives me all sorts of happy feelings. ❤️

He’s just right (Part 1)

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Rating: PG-13

Warnings : slight mention of violence/torture, being tied up, angst

Summary: Imagine Dean feeling like he's not as fit or young as he once was. Those thoughts have been circling his head and transferring to you (the reader) making him think that he’s not good enough for you.

Notes: Fluffy and smut to come promise. Also gif not mine.

Hearing the smack of tape wrapped fists hitting leather, grunts echoing down the short hall, as you round the corner leaning against the door frame watching. A little voyeurism never hurt anyone especially when the subject you’re watching is one Dean Winchester. Strong hands hitting soft leather, however with each strike you could tell somethings on his mind. Distracted more than usual, working out harder than he normally would.

It’d started about two weeks ago. You’d find Dean spending extra hours in the bunkers gym hitting the bag, lifting weights and even running. Something that surely wasn’t the eldest Winchester’s favorite thing to do. You knew he stayed in shape even with all the burgers, beer and pie, but this, this was different almost like he’s a man on a mission. Still somethings off you can feel it and couldn’t let it drop. Not if there’s something you could do to help him.

Slowly taking steps inside, you leaned against the treadmill, Sam used when the weather was too bad to go out. Studying Dean closer the tight, sweat soaked t-shirt clinging to a chest you’d like nothing more than to get to know more intimately. Sweat pants hanging from a lean muscular waist and hips that swiveled with each turn and punch. Thick bow legs that carried his movements which fascinated and turned you on more than you’d be willing to admit in a court of law. However, what got you the most is the sadness that seems to envelop him. His handsome features draw down, focused on every hit of the bag as his biceps flexed and rolled.  

Swallowing hard and pushing away from the treadmill you quietly walked closer to the punching bag. “Dean?” you softly asked after the last punch hit the leather, sending the bag backwards.

Pausing, arms halting the progress of the bag before Dean settled his tormented emerald gaze on you, then in a blink everything’s blank and he’s giving you his patented smirk. “What’s up sweetheart?”

Puzzled, you stare at him for a moment wondering if the vulnerability you’d seen had really been there or just a figment of your imagination.  

“Mission control this is Apollo, hey Houston you got your ears on?” he joked snapping his fingers in front of your face.

Jerking back, “We’re on earth, in Houston hmm go finger,” you snark back playfully. Watching his eyes crinkle at the sides as a smile graces those full lips. Lips you’ve dreamt about kissing before. “Just wondering if you’re alright? I’ve noticed you working out more, training for a spot on the WWE?”

“Whatch ya talkin’ about Y/N I plan on being the next Undertaker,” grinning again that for some reason didn’t meet his eyes.

A fact that you noticed after being around him and Sam for almost five years. Or maybe it had something to do also with the fact that you’ve been slowly falling in love with the man in question and noticed things a little more than you should. Either way you forged ahead with a smile hoping he’d open up to you.

Laughing you smack his shoulder feeling the hard muscle underneath sweat slicked tanned skin and soaked t-shirt. “And here I was thinking the Rock?” Cocking your head to the side to stare at him, sobering. “Seriously thought is everything alright Dean?”

Shaking his head, brushing the concern aside with another heart melting smile and a wave of his hand, “I’m fine Y/N no reason to worry.”

“I still worry that’s what friends are for right?” giving him the brightest smile you watch him turn from you attitude becoming a touch frosty. “Beside you can tell me anything.”

Taking another swing at the bag, Dean kept quiet hoping you’d take the hint that the discussions closed. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to open up to you he couldn’t. Not when you’re some of the reason for his currant mood. If he’d only listened to Sam all those weeks ago maybe his currant train of thought and self-decrepitating thoughts wouldn’t be running through his mind along with all the other shit piled on top. He knew deep down it shouldn’t matter what comments some random chick from a dive bar said. However, those words nagged at him when it came to you. He’d seen how you looked at other guys, younger, fit guys. And yet when you’d look back at him nothing, not even an appreciative once-over. Not like he even expect that in the first place. You’d been hunting to long together, living side by side and Dean figured you saw him more as a brother than anything else.

Noticing you hadn’t moved, Dean stopped and turned to look at you, “Something else bothering ya Kojak?”

At a loss you take a step back, “No I guess not,” you turn to leave tossing over your shoulder, “When you pull your head outta your ass let me know Winchester.”

Growling deep, Dean punches the bag so hard it swung in a large arch up. Only barely side stepping the heavy bag as it came back or it would’ve knocked him down. Cradling his left hand and cursing under his breath, Dean stocked off towards the kitchen for ice all the while frustrated at his current situation.


Two weeks later.


Another dive bar in some small town you can’t remember the name, same hard chairs you sat in, drinking stale beer, watching. Sam on the other side of you studying the open laptop trying to search for a few clues as to where the pack you were hunting could be bedded down. Your e/c eyes kept going back towards Dean who at the moment kept company with a busty blonde with legs a dancer would kill for and a short attention span. Her high pitched bubbly laughter floating towards you from a side table against the wall setting your teeth on edge.

Calmly you sipped your warm beer brushing aside the fact that Dean had been ignoring you for the last few weeks. Your worry over his attitude change trying to take a back seat because of the hunt. Yet couldn’t with how he treated everyone else, Sam included, and even some unknown, unnamed bimbo, better than you. Sighing you turned your eyes back to the cooled burger hearing Sam type away.

“Don’t worry about Dean, Y/N. He’ll be fine,” Sam voiced hazel eyes flicking over to you searching.

Puzzled by the look in his eyes you scowled, “I wish the two of you would stop saying that for crying out loud. I worry is there some cosmic reason I can’t do that?”

Chuckling, Sam shook his head, “No there’s not. It’s just,” he paused eyes flicking over to Dean watching him interact with the blonde. Who’s tongue was currently half way down Dean’s throat. “Never mind.”

Groaning you want to slap Sam upside his gorgeous brown head but settle for tossing a balled up napkin at him. “You suck Winchester both of you,” before raising up plate and long neck in both hands to find you a place at the bar away from both brothers.

Out of the corner of his eye, Dean watched you change seats a frown marring his features as he pulled Blondie from his lap to stand.

“Come on babe let’s get out of here,” she cooed nibbling at his ear lobe.

Looking back down into her watery blue eyes he answered, “Give me a second doll,” before taking off without waiting for an answer.

He’d heard your parting words to Sam, making him approach a little cautiously. “Y/N?” he paused right next to you studying your side profile.

The bar lights hitting you just right to illuminate your features, making your h/c stand out. His fingers itched to run through the soft strands. Watching you turn a fraction he saw the scathing look you gave him.

“Oh now you remember me that’s nice. I’m currently closed,” you snark turning back to face the bartender who gave you a wink which you returned with a soft smile. Not understanding why he’d be flirting with a pudgy woman like you. When the man you’d want to look at you that way didn’t nor wanted to.

“Well excuse me you PMS avenger just checking on you,” Dean barked starting to step away. He should’ve known you wouldn’t want him around right then not with the young buck giving you the hot once over. Bile rose in the back of his throat at the very through that scumbag could have any chance.

Shock had you turning quickly, “Fuck you Dean go back to your blonde bimbo and leave me alone. Since that’s what your good at in the first place,” you spat slipping get off the bar stool, tossing some cash down and storming out. 

You didn’t stop till your hand hit the bars shabby wooden door and even then that’s only to slam it open and out into the warm night air. You don’t hear someone follow till an arm grabs your wrist pulling you into a hard chest.

“What’s your problem woman?” Dean growled shoving his face close to yours so that his eyes bore into your e/c.

Resisting the urge to slap him, you try to take a step back seeing Sam behind Dean. “My problem really that’s rich,” you tossed back yanking your hand free of his grasp. “What’s the matter blondie didn’t want to suck face anymore?” you goaded eyes taunting Dean.

“Y/N come on let’s go back to the hotel,” Sam offered coming between the two of you. He didn’t like this new change in your relationship. He’d known for a bit about his brothers feelings or at least guessed at them. Though right now Sam wasn’t sure of too much just that he had to break the two of you up.

Dean stared at Sam’s back anger making him see red, “Listen to Sammy Y/N be a good little girl and go home.”

Catching you before you could launch yourself at Dean, “Little? You need your eyes checked old man,” you growled pushing at the wall of Sam’s chest.

Color drained from Dean’s face at your words as he turned on his heel and stocked back into the bar.

Sam had turned at the right time to see the hurt look cross Dean’s face before its shoved away and he’s gone back towards the bar and emptiness.

“Smooth move ex-lax I think you’ve hurt his feelings,” Sam chided turning back to face you. Troubled eyes scanning you face seeing the distress tingled with anger.

“Yeah well the asshat deserved it,” you return stomping off back towards the hotel room and some hopeful peace.

Not having meant a word but your to hurt right then to say anything different to either brother. You’d stupidly through Dean at least saw you as a best friend one he could come to. Yet now you didn’t know what to think as the silence between the two of you the last four weeks spoke volumes to you at least. Tomorrow you’d apologize to Sam. As for Dean who knew?

With that thought in mind you stepped into your own room, slamming the door behind you, locking it and getting ready for bed. Pulling an oversized Gas monkey garage t-shirt and shorts out before heading to the bathroom. Hoping your bed wouldn’t be too itchy or smelly.

Pounding sounded almost to the point the flimsy piece of wood broke under the fist of someone knocking harshly at your door. A quick check of your watch showed that it’s only a little pass nine am.  

“Y/N wake up,” Sam yelled pounding again this time a little harder.

Jumping from the bed eyes barely open you rush to the door, flinging it open to see an almost panicking Sam standing there.

“What’s happened?” you asked fear lacing your veins waking you better than any cup of coffee could.

“Dean he hasn’t been back and it’s almost nine,” he answered pushing you back into the room and slamming the door.

“Who? But how?” so many thoughts running through your mind at that second. Sure Dean had stayed at a bimbo’s house for longer cause he’s pissed drunk. But never this long. Quickly you run around the room grabbing up clothes, pulling them on and dashing for the front door Sam right behind you. “Where do we start?”

“The bar only place I can think of from there we fan out. Bullets at the ready,” you could hear the worry in Sam’s voice as he spoke the both of you jumping into Baby at the same time.

Worrying your bottom lip you don’t know what to say or ask fear holding your tongue in a tight grip. “Dean I’ll be fine we’ll find him,” you stated more for your own nerves than Sam’s.

“Haven’t lost the jerk in all my life ain’t gonna start now,” he returned giving you a tight lipped smile before focusing back on the road. 

Hours pass and your no closer to finding the packs hide out nor any sign of Dean, then you’d been when you first started. Having checked the bar over twice, the small diner and police station coming up with nothing. When your eyes set on the bimbo from the night before.

Smacking Sam’s arm, “Look its blondie wanna bet if we follow her we’ll find Dean,” lifting a brow you watched the other woman get into a truck.

Nodding Sam shifted Baby into gear following the newer Dodge pickup as close as he could without getting spotted hopefully. Pulling to a stop just before an old dirt road.

“Cliché much,” you stated under your breath exiting the Impala then heading towards the back. So many emotions ran through you in that moment. Yet all you could do was pray that Dean wasn’t badly hurt or worse. The last thought you pushed from you mind not wanting to think the worse right now, not till or if you’re faced with it.

“Going in together then fan out cover more ground,” Sam suggested checking the silver rounds in his gun.

“Kill anything that moves except us of course and Dean,” you couldn’t wait to get your hands on the blonde for whatever she’d done to Dean, she’d pay for.

Twenty minutes of hiking through the woods you and Sam came upon a rundown house and barn. Pausing only long enough to share a look before you each go in different directions.

Eyes searching, ears perked for any noise you could hear while rounding the first corner leading back behind the barn. Gun trained forward as you edged yourself around checking, even double checking till gun fire broke the silence, making you jog towards the house.

Seeing Sam standing over the dead body of the bartender from last night. Blood oozing from a cut on Sam’s cheek, as he rubbed the knuckles of his left hand on his jeans spreading more crimson on the denim fabric.

“One down x amount to go huh?” you asked coming up.

“Something like that. Just hope there ain’t many more,” he answered starting for the house.

Once inside Sam motioned for you to go left while he took right. Stopping dead in your tracks, coming face to face with the blonde.

“Well looky here Deano your favorite chew toy has come to rescue you. How sweet,” she growled eyes flashing as she held the knife to Dean’s throat.

Taking in the fact that he’d lost his dark blue plaid shirt, slashes cut into his black t-shirt exposing large gashes in his chest and stomach. He looked up at you surprise registering in those emerald eyes you loved. A bruise forming on his right jaw angry and purple right now, busted lip with dried blood, his hands tied behind his back.

“Told ya that bitch was trouble Dean,” you voiced aiming right for her head.

“Try it and he dies puppy chow,” she stated digging the knife in deeper drawing a small bead of blood.

You wished Sam would hurry up and come up around the other side of this woman and take her out. Yet, something trickled in the back of your mind a noise another fight leaving you on your own with wolf lady and Dean.

“Who ever said I wouldn’t kill him myself? Cheating bastard,” you spat watching Dean’s eyes widen still watching you. Wondering what you’re playing at.

Yanking his head back, “That true baby you cheat on this piece of shit?” she cooed into his ear licking the side of his face. “Most men would I’m sure. Fat, ugly, couldn’t fight her way out of the dog house but still worth the rut to easy, at least for a moment the tension. We put runts like you down sweetie,” she sneered. “Or use you for sport not much else.”

No matter how much you wanted to close your eyes and let those words wash over you, you didn’t instead you took strength from Dean. Who looked at you, no imploring you to not believe what she’s saying. As unbelievable as the look in his eyes were you still believed in him, even with how angry you’d been the previous night and for the last four weeks. In that second you knew what you had to do.

“Your right, but you see sometimes the runt becomes top bitch after scratching her way through the cesspool of crap,” cocking your head to the side taking aim. “You done messed with the wrong bitch’s mate,” firing, your shot hit true right between the eyes dropping her dead before she hit the floor.

Feet pounding the floor as Sam came to a stop taking in the scene before him. “Remind me never to piss you off when you’re holding a gun.”

Shaking your head, “Stow it Sam and go get the car so we can get Dean out of here,” you couldn’t stop the slight smile gracing your lips at his words.

Only for it to fall when you looked back at Dean. His eyes down cast as you walked towards him pulling the pocket knife from your jeans. Stopping behind him you set to work cutting through the ropes letting them drop before putting you knife away. Tentatively, since you weren’t sure how he’d accept your touch or help, you placed your hands on his shoulders feeling them tense up.

“Relax Dean I’m not going to hurt you,” you softly say into his ear, breath ghosting over his shoulder. Gently you worked the muscles of his shoulders watching him rub his wrists. Thinking they’ll need your special ointment to help them heal.

Leaving his shoulders you step around him, checking, cataloging each cut and bruise. Tentatively you reached out framing his waist with your hands slowly pressing inward checking for breaks while listening for any hiss of pain from Dean. He only issued a curse when your fingers brushed over one cut. Finishing your initial emanation you take his left arm gently helping him stand letting some of his weight on you while you both start for the door. Nether speaking yet Dean couldn’t deny how good it felt to have you so close again. Nor could he stop himself for feeling so stupid with the fight you’d had last night that ended up with him almost wolf food.    

Tag list: @aquabrie

Part 2

Request: Yes, sir!

You were just getting ready to take your lunch break, when the intercom buzzed.

“Ms. Y/L/N, would you mind coming in here. There’s something about these new numbers that doesn’t quite make sense.”

You grinned. “Of course, Mr. Styles, just a second.”

You got up, straightened your skirt and checked your make-up with the camera in your phone. Perfect! You went into his office, closing the door behind you, locking it. Harry was standing at the window, hands crossed behind his back, looking out at the city. You took a moment to appreciate the view yourself.

He was just wearing his white shirt, arms rolled up to his elbows. HIs jacket hung forgotten over the couch. Black cashmere pants hugged his long legs, making his ass look incredible. Today he was also wearing a black vest over the white shirt, which made your knees go weak. His hair was styled back. He radiated professionalism and authority. So hot!

You cleared your throat. He turned around. Dear God! The first three buttons of his shirt were open, showing skin and a bit of his glorious tattoos.

You gulped, then smiled. “How may I help you, sir?”

He looked at you sternly. “Come here for a second, please.”

You did as you were told, moving around his desk, to stand in front of him. His eyes burned into yours.

“Have a look at those numbers.”, he demanded, gesturing towards his computer.

You nodded, turned around and leaned forward, showing off your ass in the process.

“They look pretty normal to me, sir.”

“Do they?”, he whispered close to your ear, as he pressed himself against you from behind, his arm locking around your middle.

“What do YOU think is wrong with them?”, you asked, stretching a hand back, trailing up his leg.

“That it’s been too long since I’ve looked at them closely.”, he breathed, then kissed down your neck.

You moaned, digging your nails into his thigh, while his arm came loose, just to travel to the hem of your skirt, moving it up.

“Well, sir, that’s not exactly my fault.”

You felt him grin against your neck, before he spun you around, pressing you against the desk. His eyes were dark, his cheeks flushed.

“Oh, but it is. You’ve been teasing.”

You blinked innocently. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He growled, picking you up and sitting you on his desk. You pulled your skirt up a little, so you could wrap your legs around him.

“Don’t play with me, Y/N. I need you and I need you now, understood?”

You grinned wickedly. “Yes, sir.”

You grabbed his neck and pulled him in, kissing him breathless. While your one hand was busy holding his face against yours, your other trailed down his chest, to the growing bulge in his pants. You started rubbing it, making Harry moan. He quickly undid the buttons of your blouse, breaking the kiss to take in the sight of your breast, stuck in a very lacy bra.

“Lord, have mercy.”, he muttered, making you grin.

“Not today, Mr. Styles.”

You rubbed a little faster and he groaned, trying to pull away, but your legs, locked around him, wouldn’t let him.

“If you keep this up I’m gonna come right here, right now and will ruin a great pair of pants.”

You thought for a moment, then shrugged. “Good thing you’re rich and can afford more of these.”

You locked your lips to his again, before he could protest. A knock on the door made you stop mid-motion. You sighed, let go of him, hopped of the desk and went to open the door, buttoning your blouse back up on the way.

Outside stood your friend, wanting to pick you up for lunch.

“I’ll be right there, just a moment.”

You closed the door again, turning around and leaning against it, looking apologetic and smug at the same time.

“Well, I gotta go.”, you stated, biting your nail and fluttering your eyelashes.

He stared at you, eyes wide. “Are you serious? What about this?” He gestured at his crotch.

You shrugged, fixing your lipstick. “Guess you’re gonna have to take care of that yourself. See you later.”

You gave him a brilliant smile, before turning around and leaving.

“You’ll pay for this, Y/L/N.”, he called after you, making you laugh.


And pay you did, namely at the office party that night. It took you an hour to get slightly drunk and therefore kinda horny. Trying to make eye contact with Harry though was impossible. He was ignoring you.

Ugh, what a baby!

Well, he wasn’t the only guy here tonight, no matter how hot he looked in that loose, half-buttoned shirt and with the bed-hair.

So you started flirting. There were a few candidates, but in the end you settled on a guy from legal. Giggling, you took him into one of the offices. Before you closed the door, you could have sworn that Harry finally looked your way. His loss!

You threw the guy into the desk chair and straddled his lap.

“Gosh, you’re so beautiful.”, he slurred.

You rolled your eyes. “Oh, shut up and kiss me.”

Luckily he did as he was told. You closed your eyes, imagining he was someone else. It worked, until you were forcefully dragged off him and pushed back against the table.

Your eyes widened, as you watched Harry turn the poor bastard toward him, veins in his neck standing out, looking incredibly angry.

“You get your dirty hands off of her, you understand me? Or I will make sure you’ll regret the day you decided to work here.”, he screamed at him, before pulling him out of the chair and pushing him towards the door.

Poor legal guy stared at you two for a moment then left in a hurry. You rightened your clothes, put your hands on your hips and glared at Harry.

“The hell did you do that for?”

He stood there, hands balled into fists, breathing heavy.

“He was pawing at you…I didn’t like it.”

You frowned. “Well, I’m sorry, but you don’t really have the right to judge who I hook up with.”

He flinched at that and moved closer, dark eyes burning into yours.

“Yes I do. You’re mine.”, he growled.

You cocked an eyebrow. “Excuse me? I’m nobody’s property, Styles.”

He grabbed your hips, pulling you against him. “No, you’re not. You’re the most stubborn, irresistible person I know. And I’m so sick of only having you to myself in secret moments.”

“What do you mean?”

“I wanna be with you, Y/N. For real, not just for a bit of great sex.”

You turned your head, unsure. “I don’t know, Harry. What about work? People will talk.”

“So? Let them! I don’t care.” He saw your expression and sighed. “Fine. How about I pull some strings? Get you to work in a different department? Would that be better?”

You grinned, nodding. “Very.” Locking your arms around his neck, you buried your fingers in his soft curls. “I guess you’re mine now, huh?”

He laughed and kissed you, different than usual, softer, sweeter. Hm, alright, yeah, you could get used to that.

Path-Finding Progress!

So the first step in path-finding is complete. For now the path is limited to the underlying room grid. Next step is to get it in straight lines around obstacles so that the enemies move naturally instead of along the gird.

For those interested in what’s under the hood, up to this point it was simply a matter of implementing the A* algorithm into the game and get it to work with the existing Room Tilegrid and existing objects. A* is a very common algorithm for accurately finding shortest paths between two objects. Look it up if you’re interested to see how it works. There are also tons of examples and tutorials online.

Instead of using generic Node objects which are commonly used in an A* algorithm, in this case I used the existing Tile objects which already contain information on what a particular tile contains. This will make it easier to determine if an enemy can walk through a Tile or see through a tile. For example the Water object makes a Tile unable to walk through however it can still be seen through, meaning the archer could take the shot if the player is within attack distance. Also flying enemies like the bat will be able to fly over water and other low obstacle tiles.


Within the challenges

Today, tomorrow, or in the next few days a difficult challenge will come along. What will you see in it? What will be your first reaction? Will you look at it as an unfortunate setback, or will you find in it the opportunity to grow and to move yourself ahead?

So far, you have made it through every challenge you ever faced. And though they were often difficult, those challenges ended up strengthening you. Now those past challenges number among your most valuable experiences.

When you’re confronted with a challenge, refuse to let it intimidate you. Instead, look ahead to the other side. See and understand the very real value of pushing yourself through that challenge, of rising to the challenge, of learning what it has to teach, of becoming strong enough to transcend it.

The opportunities you yearn for are contained within the challenges that come your way. Take them and make of them the very most you possibly can.

— Ralph Marston