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Stripping's Harder Than It Looks. (Dean Imagine)

Pairing: Dean/Reader

Rating: PG 13 for sexy situations (It’s really not bad at all.)

Dean had you against his bedroom door, your hands pulling at his short hair. His hands were raking down your back and you were gasping in his ear as he managed to pull your shirt off, grunting in frustration when he had to break contact with your lips even for the second it took to pull it over your head. It was tossed unceremoniously aside as you worked your way toward the bed. He pushed you down onto it, and you landed flat on your back, smiling up at him mischievously as he gripped the bottom hem of his shirt and pulled upward.

He got it as far as covering his face before he got stuck.

You would've fallen over laughing if you hadn't already been lying down. As it was you were helplessly giggling as he struggled, flailing his arms. "This is so not funny!" came a muffled yell from inside the cottony mess. "Oh, babe," you choked out over your fits, "it really is. Seriously. Way to go Casanova." He gave you the finger over the top of his shirt.

It felt like five more minutes before you finally caught your breath enough to help him. Standing, still shaking with mirth, you grabbed the shirt and joined in the fight.

"How the hell did you even get this stuck?"

"Shut up and help."

"Quit moving your arms!"

"Quit pulling them!"

"How else am I supposed to get this off you?"

A minute later, you were holding his shirt and he was scowling at it. You held it up and shook it, smiling with your tongue between your teeth. "So, shirt one, hunter zip, yeah?"

"Shut up." But he cracked a grin, and pulled you over to him, kissing you again and tangling a hand in your hair. Pulling back, he smirked at you. "Now, where were we?" You pulled him back to you, and lent him back so you were lying on top of him, legs tangled with his.

"This time, let me take the clothes off."

"Gladly."

I always imagine anti as kinda like the grinch, he detests Christmas much to the annoyance of chase

Oh absolutely.

this blog doesn’t support bullying over fictional characters and ships(￣▽￣)ノ

Original Tweet Link

…this makes me happy

Do You Trust Me? Pt. 4

A/N: Here we are! Second to last part!

Link to Pt. 3: http://skinnyscottishblokeaddict.tumblr.com/post/155699231442/do-you-trust-me-pt-3

Link to Pt. 2: http://skinnyscottishblokeaddict.tumblr.com/post/155686403892/do-you-trust-me-pt-2

Link to Pt. 1: http://skinnyscottishblokeaddict.tumblr.com/post/155650933267/pizsospa-cmon-little-dude-you-can-trust-me

Mark finished waving and took off his headphones as he stood and turned. "Jack! What's up, dude? You didn't tell me you were coming over today." "Howya, Mark? I haven't seen you in ages," Jack said, walking over and giving him a quick half-hug. "Oh, fine, fine, lots of Subnautica recently, it's driving me nuts," he laughed, turning to smile at you. "Who's your friend?" You managed to stutter out a "hello". Mark raised an eyebrow at Jack. Jack put his hands in his pockets. "They're actually the reason I'm here." His smile faded and he sighed. "He's stronger than we thought. And he almost got out, so...I pulled them in here." Mark's smile dropped immediately. "Oh...Oh, so you're...?" He turned to look at you, and you nodded awkwardly. "Uh, from...'out there'. Yeah."

Everyone was silent for a moment before you added, stupidly, "I love your videos." Mark shook himself a bit and smiled again. "Well. It's nice to meet a fan, doesn't happen very often." He glanced over at Jack, still addressing you. "Did he explain about Personas?" "Yeah. I did. Let's not start that again." Jack put an arm around you. "Can you help me get them home safely?" "Well," Mark considered, going over to his computer and starting to look for something, "I mean,  I've done it before. I don't see why not." "What happened before?" You asked, walking up behind Mark to see what he was doing. There was a lot of code on the screen, much like outside. Mark seemed to be looking for a specific line of it. Mark and Jack seemed to shift awkwardly. "Well...you weren't the first target of a Hyde Glitch." "Hyde Glitch?" "It's what we're calling Anti and all them," Jack explained. "Like Jekyll and Hyde. They're...broken versions, of us. Bugs in the system." "There's more of them?" "Lots more." Mark didn't look back at you, but he frowned. "One for almost everyone." "Oh..." You thought back to all the drawings and edits you'd seen on tumblr. "Oh. So...there's Anti, and there's-" "Dark. Yeah. He exists." Mark nodded solemnly. "But he's not as strong as Anti. Glitches like Dark, and Natemare, MadPat, Virus Cry, all of them...they're weak because they've not got a single form." "Sean's a good guy, and October was fun, but..." Jack crossed his arms over his chest, shaking his head slightly. "Well, putting Anti on the channel, pulling him into the limelight..." "We knew it was gonna be dangerous." "Because he exists online..." The realization was hitting you like a ton of bricks. Jack nodded. "Sean doesn't know about this. So he didn't think he was doing anything wrong. But the more Anti actually appeared in videos, the more he got a voice-" "The stronger he got here," you finished for him, leaning back against the foam padding on the wall. "This is our fault. We egged him on. I...I wrote stories, I've got friends that made art..." "It's not your fault." Mark seemed to have found what he was looking for, and turned to smile at you reassuringly. "You didn't know about this place either. You didn't think any of it was real." "But it is, and..." you looked over at Jack, "A-and you got hurt because of it. He-he slit your throat, but how-?" "The vlog that went up after," Jack interrupted, seeing how upset you were, "It cancelled out 'Say Goodbye'." He didn't say it, but you could guess that that didn't mean it hadn't hurt. It felt like your stomach was falling into your shoes. Mark coughed, and you and Jack gathered by the computer. "Alright," he said, pointing at some white text, "so, when Ethan was here-" "Ethan came here? Like, my world Ethan?" Mark nodded. "Yeah. When he first came out to LA, he was watching one of my videos, making sure his edits were good. He heard me say something to him after the outro. And then...I mean, I assume it was basically the same thing you did. Dark started trying to get at him, I pulled Ethan in." You shook your head. You could practically picture it, Ethan confused as hell, staring at Mark in shock. "But you got him home alright. I mean, he's putting out videos now. And Dark's not out there, so...How'd you do it?" "Well, like I said, Dark isn't as strong as Anti, so it was just a matter of putting him behind a firewall. After than, we...well, I spent hours trying to figure it out, digging through code and trying to find out if it'd happened before. Ethan was a little shocked, so...but he wouldn't have known what to do either. Eventually, I found this," he tapped the white text again. "Ethan's access code. It's what let him get in." "We still don't know why he could," Jack added, "We don't know why he's the only one, until now, that could hear us. Maybe it's something to do with you guys on that end, some power you have." "But how does that help me get out?" "Well," Mark pulled open a drawer and pulled out a flashdrive, plugging it in. He tapped a few keys and a loading box popped up. "I found his code by accident. Noticed it was different, pulled it up. And my camera was still plugged into my computer, and when it popped up, a box came up with the option to 'return message to original sender?'. Ethan was the one who figured it out. He was the message, and the sender. So, we figured, what's the worst that could happen? I'm pretty good at recovering lost data..." Jack shifted and you glanced at him. Mark continued, eyeing Jack. "Um, so we figured, what was there to lose? I hit send, and then...flash, bang, he was home." "And that was it?" "And that was it." "So I could go home right now?" "Well, no," Mark rubbed his neck awkwardly. "You've gotta go from your home port. Meaning..." "Meaning we walked all this way to be told we have to go back to Jack's place," you said, scrubbing a hand across your face. "We traveled all this way to have someone who's a hell of a lot better at code than I am get the right code," Jack corrected, then, shuffling his feet awkwardly, "And...I wanted to give you a chance to meet him. I figured...You probably like his stuff too, and it'd be nice..." You smiled slightly at him. "Thanks, Jack." "It's my fault Anti got to us, though." Mark's voice was suddenly sharp. "Anti followed you?" "We ran into him halfway here, but...I think I slowed him down," you said. Mark blinked, confused. "How?" "I don't know, I just...pushed him. And he turned a little red." Mark shot a glance at Jack, who shrugged. "Well that's...interesting. You, uh, seem to be able to manipulate code. Which I suppose is good." You could see why that would make him uncomfortable, so you stood away from the wall again and made your way toward the door. Jack took the hint. "Well, we should be going." Mark nodded, pulling the flashdrive, which'd just finished downloading the code, out and handing it to you. "Be careful out there." "You too," you said. Mark smiled. "All things considered, it was nice to meet you." You returned it. "It's good to meet you too, Mark. I've watched you for such a long time." You laughed a little. "This feels surreal." Mark opened his arms and raised his eyebrows, and you took the invitation and hugged him tightly, muttering a thank you. "It's my absolute pleasure," he chuckled, hugging you tightly before patting your back. "Now go on. Have a safe trip-" The lights dimmed. Everyone froze. "We should go. Now." Jack grabbed your arm. Mark let go of you quickly and went to open the door. It wouldn't open. And then there was giggling.

"This way!" Mark dove toward a door on the other side of the room, you and Jack hot on his heels as the lights flickered and his computer screen began to glitch, dark green code starting to scroll by. He shoved the door open and you ran into his VR recording room. He shut the door behind you and ran up to the headsets. "Lucky I've got two of these," he said, tossing you the Vive and giving the Oculous to Jack. "Put 'em on." "What?" Something pounded on the door. Mark shot a glance at it, then ran over to the computer in this room and started typing furiously. "Mark, we can't just leave you with him," Jack said angrily. "Just put on the damn headsets, I'll be fine." "A firewall won't stop him." "But it'll slow him down." Mark waved him off. But you were still lost. "Wait, how is this supposed to-?" "Virtual Reality," Mark said, stepping back toward the door and, to your surprise, pushing aside a panel on the wall to reveal its coding. He started pulling and moving it like Jack had back on the mountain. "In your world, it's only a metaphorical escape. But here, everything's virtual, so..." "So it'll really get us out of here." You grinned. "That's brilliant." You nodded to Jack and the two of you got ready to put the headsets on. "He should follow us," Jack said, and Mark nodded again. "I can keep him out until then. I'll be alright." "Thank you, Mark." He gave you a short wave over his shoulder before going back to keeping Anti out. "See you in the comments." "See you there." There was a scream of frustration from the next room, and you and Jack put the headsets on.

Suddenly, you were back at the base of the mountain, back on Jack's side. You could almost see his ravine from there. "We haven't got a lot of time. C'mon." Jack led the way, and the two of you ran. You made it about half way before the dark green text was everywhere, forcing you to skid to a stop. "No, no, no," Jack muttered, "He's boxing us in." And the giggling started up again. You watched in horror as Anti pulled himself out of the ground again. He looked even glitchier than before, the only solid thing about him his face, grinning disturbingly. The rest was switching alarmingly quickly between green code and sickly green skin. It looked like he couldn't keep a solid form. "YOU!" His voice was high and sharp, layered as if there were four of him speaking at once, tone shifting all over the place. "You're mine!" "Get bent, Anti," Jack growled, and he turned to you. "Get around him. Go. I'll keep him here." Before you could protest, he dove toward Anti, knocking him flat on the ground and shouting in pain as he started to glitch out as well. You were frozen to the spot, couldn't do anything but watch as they struggled. Jack had Anti pinned for a moment, but then his legs were swept out from under him and Anti was on top, holding him down with one arm and using the other fist to swing at his face. You screamed as it crunched against his cheek and Jack let out a yell that was half pain and half defiance. He face was glitching where he'd been hit, going between code and bruising. But he took advantage of Anti reering back for another hit to shove him away, so hard that he slammed into the wall of the mountain base, hissing angrily. You ran toward Jack. "No! No, you've got to go!" Jack stood, swaying slightly, and shoved you back toward the ravine. "I won't leave you here!" "I'll be okay!" "You're lying!" Jack grunted in annoyance and shoved you again. "So what if I am? Don't you want to go home? Please, just-" Anti cackled, making you and Jack whip around to look at him, just in time for him to dive toward Jack, who pushed you roughly backward. "Idiot, IDIOT!" Anti crowed. And he seemed to dissolve, nothing but code, and Jack struggled as it started to seep into his skin. He screamed in pain, just managing to keep standing. "GO! JUST GO! RUN!" You couldn't if you'd wanted to. But you couldn't move to help him either. He screamed again, clutching at his head, doubling over on his knees, his whole body glitching out. "No...NO!" And he collapsed. "JACK!" You ran toward him, all fear and panic, all thought for your own safety gone. You just needed to know he was okay. Your knees thudded sharply against the ground and you cupped his face with your hands. "Jack, please. Please wake up. Please. You can't leave me. You can't leave them. They need you, Jackaboy, c'mon." He grunted weakly and you let out a short sob. "Knew you could...do...it..." He was laughing. And when his eyes opened, they were black.

More on Anti and Flowey.

Okay the recent appearances are making me lean more and more toward the idea of Anti being similar to Flowey in some way, what with all the determination references (especially the look given today during DDLC), and with the recent game (Heartbound or something like that?) that bore a lot of similarities to Undertale. I would love for us to get sympathetic Anti that’s still done horrible things, that kind of character is hard to pull off and I love it.

Last Words. (Dean Imagine)

(A/N: THIS IS AN END OF S11 FIC. Technically, the oneshot itself has no spoilers...I think. But just so you understand the context, this takes place the night before the end of the season finale. I apologize in advance for the ensuing tears.)

Pairing: Dean/reader

Rating: PG13 for sadness

Dean sat down on his bed, laptop open in front of him, a blank document staring back expectantly. He sipped his beer, and set it on the nightstand, sighing heavily.

She would find it after everything was over. He'd print it up, seal it in an envelope, give it to Cas, ask him to give it to her when he was gone. When they were safe.

"Let's get this over with."

Dear (Y/N),

He deleted it.

(Y/N),

He deleted it.

To my girl.

Here we are again. End of the line. The world's going out tomorrow unless the Winchesters step up, right? Tomorrow night, I'll probably be dead, and in the Void.

How many times have we been here? Too many. This time, though, I'm pretty certain I'm not getting out of it. This time, it really is the end of the line. Everybody off.

So I thought I should leave something behind. Kind of a will, but not really because legally I don't exist anymore. Sort of a...goodbye. You know I'm not good at them. Soppy crap has never been my thing, but this time...I don't know. It just feels right to go out properly.

Sammy gets my Baby. It's always been that way. Don't let him chuck my music, though, doll. Those cassettes are classics and really valuable, trust me.

You and him keep on at the Batcave. Don't move, you won't be safe if you do. You know that, though. Also, don't let them touch my room, okay? No one but you gets in, babe, promise me. Everyone else would touch my stuff and move it and mess it up, and I swear if you guys break anything I'll pull my damn self out of the void to haunt your asses.

Watch out for Sammy for me. Make sure he doesn't do anything stupid. And tell him to get a haircut.

Watch out for Cas. Don't let him do anything stupid either. But still mess with him sometimes, too. He's still got a stick up his ass.

Take care of yourself. Move on. Find someone who's actually worth your time now that you're not stuck with me. Just don't be alone, okay? No one should be alone. And don't do anything stupid, either. Don't try to bring me back. I don't want that.

I love you so much, and I don't say it as much as I should. Tell Sam and Cas I love them too, because God knows...well, you know what I mean...I can't say it to their faces. Too much of a chick flick moment. Soppy crap.

But I do love you. All of you. And I hope that I can't miss you in the void, because I know I will if I can. I'll miss you so damn bad.There's no way in hell I can thank any of you enough, or tell you how much you mean to me.

Tell Sammy I'm proud of him, and I'm sorry he never got that normal life he wanted. Tell him he can stop hunting now, if he can find a way out. He deserves that much. Tell him I'm sorry I dragged him back into that crap, and I'm sorry he was born into it all, and I wish more than anything that we'd gotten normal lives dealt to us. But tell him I'm so proud to call him my brother, and I loved every minute we got together.

Tell Cas thank you, for everything he's done, and that I'm so sorry that I brought him down with me. Tell him he's the best friend I ever had, and I didn't deserve anything he did for me. Tell him I'm so damn proud of him, and I hope he can patch things up with Claire, and with at least some of the God squad. Tell him that to me, he's always been a brother. Tell him he's family, and he's earned that place, for what it's worth.

You are so beautiful, and so wonderful, and so strong. I never deserved you, and I don't know why you stayed with me, but I am so damn glad that you did. Thank you for making these last few years so real, and so great, for staying with me through literal hell and high water, for every kiss and every touch and every word you ever said to me. Thank you for being alive and for being mine. Thank you for letting me be yours because you deserved so much better than this washed-up idiotic alcoholic mess.

I love you, (Y/N). My girl. My babe, my doll, my honey, my cherry pie. I love you.

Goodbye.

Dean Winchester.

Containment Breach.

A/N: WARNING FOR BLOOD AND GORE MENTIONS. Back on the Anti hype train! I was playing with a photo editor and it sparked a story idea, so I thought I’d try writing something a little different, a little more environment based. Pulled a little bit of inspiration from RE7 as well, that game’s amazing.

It had to be one of her least favorite noises in the world, the heavy, scraping squeal of an old metal door opening for the first time in months, its hinges screaming in protest against the sudden, unexpected use after so long being forgotten.

The hallway before her was dark, extending deep into the side of the hill, entirely industrial except for the occasional tree root creeping through the cracked concrete walls and floor. She flicked on her flashlight, sweeping it cautiously across from wall to wall before stepping inside, pushing the door to behind her, but being careful not to close it. She didn’t want to be trapped in here. Her footsteps were deafeningly loud in her ears, echoing in the small space as she walked, peeking into rooms with doors thrown open and hanging from their hinges, quickly making her way past one that had its door closed, and a menacing dark stain seeping out from under it. The hall ended abruptly in an elevator. The doors to it sent chills down her spine. They looked as if they were clipping through the walls beside them, as in a poorly crafted video game map. And they were splattered red, from rust...and from something much worse.

Swallowing the lump that was forming in her throat, she moved to look inside. There wasn’t much to see. The elevator itself wasn’t there, just the gaping maw of the shaft, a black hole reaching down like an abyss, bottomless. Shining her light on the walls, she could see what looked like burn marks, or skid marks, or both, and severe dents like impact sights. Something had fought its way out of this place. She made a slight noise of annoyance, crawling into the shaft and climbing down the cables as carefully as she could. One misstep and she would be joining the rest of the staff of this place, adding a new layer of paint to the bottom of the pit, she thought bitterly. It almost seemed like she was descending forever, passing floor after floor, her arms and legs beginning to ache horribly. She had to focus on her reason for being here, ignoring how tired she was becoming, occasionally looking down to remind herself of her reason to hang on. Finally, her flashlight’s beam bounced off of the metal paneling of the floor she’d been looking for. She swung in and...thud. Her landing echoed dully on the once-pristine tile. It was more of the same, down here. But so much more intense. Here, it seemed, was the origin point of the destruction. The floor was littered with broken bits of piping from the lines rusting away from the walls, and the fluorescent lights that’d once kept this place starkly lit were dangling by their wires so that she had to duck to move safely. And the further in she went, the more there seemed to be broken parts of reality, pixelated patches of wall that seemed to have been paused mid-glitch, holes as if there were textures missing. The thought of a broken game map came to her mind again. But worse than the bizarre, mind-bending physics...blood stained the hall, in splatters on the walls, in drips and puddles long dried on the floor, and, in a few places, in sprays on the ceiling. As she reached the end of the hall, she found a sign, half hanging on the wall.

<- SHORT TERM HOLDING <- BRIEFING ROOMS     TESTING ->     LONG TERM HOLDING ->

As she turned toward the hall, she thought she caught a glimpse of something in the hall behind her. Something that looked markedly like green eyes and a scruff of...green hair? She turned back quickly to look, but it was gone. Deciding she’d rather not see it, she hurried along to the right-hand hall.

She came to a set of stairs, descending even deeper into the belly of the beast, until she came to another hall, this one’s floor covered in the powdered remains of the glass that’d once made up the foot-thick walls of the facility’s testing rooms. She glanced into the first room. A broken table, half of it seeming to clip through the floor, shattered microphone pieces, something that looked like it might once have held test tubes and syringes, shredded leather strapping. More blood. It was much the same in the other rooms, twisted restraining chairs, equipment that looked purposefully, furiously dismantled, shredded paper that might once have held records. Glitches in reality. Everywhere, there was more blood. In the last room, she nearly screamed. A body, the first she’d seen here. It was face down on the ground, a pool of dried blood and something that was such a dark green it was nearly black spilling from its nearly severed-in-half neck, the gore and incredible stench of which was nearly enough to make her sick right then and there. Its limbs were twisted at impossible angles, so that it looked as if the poor bastard had been slammed around before finally skidding to a stop here. Regretfully, she pulled out her phone, the flash of it snapping a picture of the scene almost blinding her. They’d want to know about this, to arrange to have his remains retrieved. She hoped they would, anyway. Heartless as they were, he’d probably rot away down here with the rest of the facility. Forgotten, just like they want this place to be. Still...better to try.

Stepping back out into the hall, she pushed open the heavy door, whose keypad lock was hanging by one wire. Maximum security, huh. Much good it did them. She smiled bitterly. This hall looked nearly untouched, deathly still. The doors to all of the cells were closed, and she still had the sense that she needed to stay back from them, that dangerous creatures were lurking just behind them even though there was no noise to be heard. Nothing would’ve survived on this level, she knew. But still she felt unsafe.

The last cell was wide open, the door on the ground, a twisted lump that was barely recognizable. She felt as if she were walking into it in slow motion. It was so...standard. A bed, minimal as taxpayer money could buy. A steel toilet adhered to the wall, with a small steel sink beside it and a rack with two pristine, cheap white towels. On the bed, though, was a file folder. She walked over slowly, picking it up and putting the flashlight awkwardly into the crook of her neck so that she could open it. A picture fluttered out, and she shone her light where it lay on the floor.

The label was hard to read, faded and peeling.

Subject #4NT1 Name: Sean William McLoughlin AKA: Jack, Jacksepticeye DOB: Feb. 7, 1990 Originates From: Ireland Duration of stay: Indefinite

On the back of the picture were a few scribbled lines of writing.

Subject complains of headaches which coincide with nosebleeds shortly before each episode. Episodes most obvious features: eye pigmentation shift, vocal shift (practically “auto-tune”), atmospheric disturbances. Shaking her head, she flipped through the papers in the file were dated just as recently, some even as recent as this past October. Occasionally a few words jumped out. “Unstable.” “Condition worsening.” “Duality.” This was it, alright. This was...him. This file was all they needed, had everything they needed to stop him. Contain him. To not make the stupid, small mistakes that’d led to...this.

Taking a deep breath, she closed the file and turned to leave...but stopped.

A high pitched giggle echoed down the halls.

“No...” her voice was a hoarse whisper. And she ran, full pelt down the hall. She screamed in frustration as the heavy door slammed itself shut, the giggling escalating into laughter, high and cold and deranged. “No!” She slammed her fists into the door, pulling and shoving alternatively. “Dammit, let me out!” “I’m gonna find you!” His voice seemed to bounce and echo, sliding between pitches, sometimes sounding like several of him were speaking at once. “Jack, please! I know you’re in there!” She was starting to panic, now, voice cracking desperately. “He’s GONE!” Another maniacal laugh. She turned to face the room. Around her, the walls seemed to be...glitching. “YOU! You’re on THEIR side! You helped them CATCH ME! CHEATERS! It’s no fun if you CHEAT!” Sudden silence. Suddenly her throat burned, and she retched, hands clawing at it as she crumpled to the floor, the laughter echoing again with a vengeance, louder and louder around her, the walls glitching in and out of existence with more frequency and intensity.

The last thought she had was of the body in the testing room. At least he wouldn’t rot alone, she thought dimly as she faded into the darkness.

Probably. I wouldn’t be surprised.

Are these all the demons that Jim and Jim summoned

I got nothing else to say but if ISWM doesn’t get merch I’m gonna cry.