sleepy stuck

anonymous asked:

Jim buys McCoy a shirt that says "save a horse, ride a cowboy" as a joke. Spock takes it very seriously

Spock didn’t understand Bones’ shirt, nor the slightly embarrassed grin he wears whenever someone points it out. He decided to ask Jim about it. 

“In essence, Spock, to ride someone has a double meaning. The first to literally ride around on their back, the other is to have sex. Ride their dick, basically.” Jim didn’t seem to know if he was enjoying the explanation or embarrassed by it. 

“I see,” Spock said slowly, responding to Jim’s expectant gaze. “Why does McCoy wear it?”

Jim grinned proudly “He’s about as close to a cowboy as you can get these days.”

(gets kinda nsfw under the cut, nothing explicit)

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Before My Eyes (Bucky x Reader)

Request: None!

Words: 1,929

Warnings: None

Tags: @pabegay1, @i-am-mina, @frolicsomefawkes, @thyotakukimkim, @happelu970, @ annadier, @Shamvictoria11@spookass


“I’m so excited I think I might pee.”

“You think you’re going to pee because you drank all that sweet tea in less than ten minutes.”

“But I’m so sweet because of all the sweetness in my sweet tea, don’t you see my sweetheart?” You threw your body back against the passenger seat of Bucky’s car. You had your legs pulled up to your chest as you turned to look over at Bucky with a silly smile covering your face.

“Are you sweet though, are you really?” Bucky teased, taking his eyes away from the highway for only a second to look at you with a smirk.

“I am too sweet! I’m the sweetest gal in this whole wide universe.” You crossed your arms around your legs and shivered. You didn’t know why Bucky always kept the car so cold, you were wearing track shorts and a band tee.

“The universe is a very large place, doll.” Bucky rested one hand on the steering wheel and moved his spare arm to rest of the armrest lazily.

“I know.” The grin could be heard through your tone of voice. You waited only a couple of seconds before chipping up again. “Thank you for the concert tickets, by the way. I don’t know how I’ll beat your birthday present now.”  

“You’ve wanted to see Ed Sheeran for a while now, at least now you’ll finally shut up about it.” You punched his arm lightly, knowing it wouldn’t hurt him either way. “I’m kidding, god you’re touchy.”

It was true, for the past few years all you’ve talked about is wanting to go see Ed Sheeran in concert. You had been to plenty of concerts before, but you had never seen him despite him being one of your top favorite artists. On your birthday Bucky surprised you with two tickets to his Divide Tour, and after the long wait you were finally going to his concert tonight.

“I love this song!” You got distracted from your previous conversation when Nancy Mulligan came on, you were playing your Spotify playlist dedicated to Ed on the way to the city the concert was being held at.

Bucky had barely opened the door to the hotel room before you were flying underneath his arm and skipping in the room at a fast speed. You dropped your suitcase by the bathroom door and instantly kicked off your shoes, leaving you in just your emoji socks.

By the time Bucky got fully into the room, with the door shut behind him, you were already standing on top of the queen sized bed like you owned the place. You had your hands on your hips as a silly grin plastered over your makeup free face. Bucky only grinned in return as he dropped his duffel next to yours, and mocked your stance.

“I’m so excited!” You jumped up and down on the bed several times. “I’m gonna breath the same air as him, can you believe it?! Ed’s my favorite person in the whole wide world, besides you of course, and honestly Ed Sheeran understands women more than women understand women.”

You kept rambling on and on, jumping on the bed like a young child with a grin covering your pretty features. Bucky watched in awe at how adorable you looked. Your hair was messy and your face was clear of makeup, although Bucky thought you looked like the most gorgeous girl with or without it. Your smile made his heart stop beating and your carefree actions made him fall even more in love with you.

Even though you weren’t his girl.

Bucky was your best friend, and he had been for a few years now. You were your complete and utter self around him. He had seen you at your worst and he had seen you at your best, yet loved you all the same. It’s like you didn’t even notice how much he loved you, nor did you notice every action you did made his breath get caught in his throat.

He had watched you fall in love, and he watched your heart break in half. He listened to your rants and never once complained. He went to family events that you honestly didn’t want to attend just to keep you company, he even pretended to be your boyfriend on several different occasions to get the judgmental sides of your family to shut up.

He once washed your hair when you were sick while you wore one of his shirts, he shaved your legs when you were too lazy and painted your nails when you were down. He knew to play with your hair at the end of a long day because it made you feel at ease, he knew you didn’t like milk in your cereal and hated food that looked remotely burnt.

He knew you were afraid of heights and the dark, so he reached for things up high and bought you a nightlight. He ran his fingers up and down your arm when you felt overwhelmed by anxiety to calm you down.

Everyone else saw that the best thing for you was standing right before your eyes, but you didn’t notice. You were too lost in your own little world to realize who you had with you all along.

Bucky snapped out of his daze when you hopped down from the bed and went straight for your suitcase, flipping it open and digging out everything you needed to get ready for the concert that was only in four hours.

“I’m going to get dolled up.” You called out over your shoulder before skipping excitedly towards the bathroom. He nodded in response, clearing his head to be back into reality.

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anonymous asked:

Hey! I had an idea, could you write something where Jughead isn't sleeping well (looks more tired than normal) and Betty notices so she takes him somewhere quiet like to her house or to the blue and gold office and he falls asleep in her lap while she's playing with his hair? Or something cute and fluffy like that - I love your fics so much they always brighten my day :)

That’s cute! I’ll give it a go, I mean we’ve all noticed how much more prominent Jugheads bags have been getting

She propped her chin up in her hand, leaning her elbow on the cool metal of the cafeteria table, she didn’t mean to stare, her mother had always told her it was rude but this was her kinda/ sorta boyfriend, she figured she had a pass. Jughead looked so tired, the dark purple bags under his eyes, the way he was almost always yawning, and now the way his eyes were drooping slowly, Betty couldn’t look away.
She knew what he was going through, she knew the way it kept him up at night, worrying about his father, worrying about his mother, his sister, sometimes even about herself, it made her heart hurt to see how all of this emotional baggage was eating away at the boy who had snuck his way into her heart.

Suddenly cloudy blue connected with her own piercing green and his eyes were looking directly into her prying ones, raising an eyebrow and smiling lazily. Jugheads lack of sleep was a fairly popular conversation between the pair, Betty was worried and she brought that up more than not.

“You need to sleep Jughead, just rest.” She would beg, as they lay together on his blowup mattress situated on Archie’s floor. He simply shook his head, the bed wasn’t comfortable and he claimed he felt on edge in Archie’s room, almost like he was invading on someone’s privacy, not to say he wasn’t grateful, of course he was, this just wasn’t… it wasn’t a great space for him.

Back to her current scenario, Betty raised a teasing eyebrow at his sleepy face and stuck her tongue out, making the beanie wearing boy chuckle and relax his shoulders, she loved that she could make him feel at ease, make him comfortable, that’s why the plan she had been cooking up all month was probably one of her best. She would bring it up to him after the final bell.

Lunch went by quickly and they all headed off to their final two classes, Jughead dropping a secret kiss to her forehead before strolling off. When the final bell rang, signaling the end of the day, Betty skipped up to Jughead in the hallway and took his hand in hers, looking up at him with excited eyes as he smiled down at her, gently resting a palm to her cheek

“What’s got you so excited Bets?” He asked with a snort as she tugged him down the hallway.

Betty stopped in front of the gym and placed a kiss on his cheek. “Pack a bag for two days and meet me in front of my house today, I should be done with cheerleading around 5? Meet me then?” She asked without really leaving much of an option as she practically sprinted into the gym, leaving him nodding and confused as he headed to Archie’s.

5 o clock came fast and jughead found himself, duffel bag swung over his shoulder, standing on Betty’s front porch while she walked up her sidewalk and leaped beside him, placing a finger up as he went to ask a question. Dramatically opening the door, she walked in before him, ushering him inside as he stared at her questioningly

“Welcome to your new home for the weekend, come on I’ll show you where you’ll be sleeping!” She giggled at his confused expression as she pulled him up the stairs and into her bedroom
“I tell ya best beds in all of Riverdale” she tugged him down to her plush, soft mattress filled with warm blankets and pillows, he practically melted into it. He had always loved Betty’s bed, but with Alice around he was never not on edge.

“Bets…” he explained slowly “this is your bed, in your home.” He smiled at her with a roll of his eyes.

Betty shook her head “no this weekend, it’s our bed, and our home.” She explained back, leaning against her bed frame “mom went away for the weekend with Polly she won’t be back until late Monday night, therefore we have the whole place to ourselves! You need a good nights rest Jughead, you need an actual bed with an actual pillow, those living arrangements are killing you.” She said softly, grabbing his hand as he looked deep into her eyes “let me help you. Just this once, let me take care of you. Please” she whispered.

Jughead loved Betty Cooper, she was the best thing to ever happen to him and if he didn’t know it then, he most definitely knew it now. The way she cared for him, the way she saw things no one else did, it never failed to amaze him. Nodding slowly, not trusting his voice too overcome with emotion, he just let her wrap him up in her arms and fall into the soft mattress.
They stayed like that for a few minutes before he felt her remove his hat and run her fingers through his hair, he was out before he even had the chance to say her name.

On Monday morning, as the pair walked into school together, the whole school was in talks about how good Jughead jones looked. A great nights rest and a girlfriend who loved to cook for her boyfriend could do wonders for an emotionally damaged teen. And so when Archie saw Jughead climbing Fred Andrews ladder into Betty Coopers room atleast twice a week, he never said a word, grateful for the change in his best friend. It was the Betty Cooper effect, and you couldn’t buy that for all the money in the world.

so i didn’t know that Neil casually/accidentally wearing a crop top was a kink of mine??

- neil stumbling out of the bedroom in the morning with bed hair and wearing an old dryer-shrunken exy shirt
- that’s tight around his broad shoulders and wayyyy too short neilhowdidyounotnotice
- and andrew’s eyes go directly to his toned, tan stomach
- and Neil smiles really affectionately and sleepily at him and keeps walking to the kitchen
- so andrew gets a perfect view as he walks away of his tapered waist and the dimples on his lower back
- andrew had stopped talking to Nicky mid-sentence (not that Nicky noticed, he’s too busy staring at that fine piece of- neil too), and now he looks back at Nicky and growls “get out”
- and then he’s throwing himself over the back of the couch and heading towards neil
- who is now leaning against the counter and watching andrew’s approach
- I can’t decide if he has a shitty face because he knows exactly what he’s doing by wearing that ‘shirt’ or if he has whydoesandrewlooklikehesgoingtokillme face because he actually has no idea what he’s doing
- Andrew takes the coffee mug out of Neil’s hands and puts it on the counter next to them, gets in real close and asks, deep and gravely, “yes or no”
- Neil’s eyes widen and he says “yes” (soft and mumbly ‘cause he’s still waking up)((friends sleepy neil kills me))
- andrew puts his hands on Neil’s waist, lets his fingers trail up under the hem of the shirt, feeling both the silky smooth (and warm, so warm) skin and the striations of Neil’s scars
- Neil doesn’t say anything, he just watches Andrew’s enraptured face
- There’s a minute or two of Andrew just touching Neil and running his hands (and maybe mouth once or twice) over Neil’s bared skin
- and then Andrew’s hands move back up Neil’s sides again but take the fabric with them and neil gets the hint
- then they do it in the kitchen
- Neil keeps the shirt and maybe ‘accidentally’ shrinks a few more

idk just forever give me Neil not knowing how stupidly attractive he is and Andrew having problems keeping his hands off because of it

anonymous asked:


Ahhhh omg yes of course my darling! <3 <3 <3

Okay so just imagine right now at 3:57am in Norway, Isak suddenly jolts awake in the middle of the night, wrapped tightly in Even’s arms. Who is still sleeping peacefully, his little tiny whimper of a snore, consuming the whole room. Isak doesn’t know what woke him up abruptly. There is just this strange feeling in his gut. Something making him restless and jumpy. But not in a bad way, no. He feels happy and loved and excited. he feels it in every part of his bones. he can feel it in the way his toes tingle. It is almost as if he can sense that in another parallel universe there are millions of people all over the world so in love with his and Even’s love, that they voted them as the best couple of 2017. 

I mean of course he doesn’t consciously know this. But he is still awake right at this moment because he can feel the happiness, the excitement, the joy. He can sense it in every fibre of his being and now all he wants to do is share it with Even.

So that’s what he does. 

Isak turns around to face Even, and slowly presses his lips against his. When that doesn’t do the trick, he moves to his eyelids, and then his nose, his forehead, that spot behind his ear Isak is obsessed with. He kisses every inch of his face until Even’s hand grabs the back of Isak’s neck and pulls his lips closer. They kiss under the moonlight seeping in from the window, which is enveloped by the yellow curtains Even bought Isak for Valentines day. Eventually they pull apart, a soft sleepy smile stuck on Even’s face. 

“What was that for?” Even asked, his voice saturated with a dreamy glow. 

Isak shrugged and grinned brightly at his angel. “Nothing. I just love you.” 

Even’s heart grew 3 times bigger and he softly rubbed Isak’s cheek. “you felt compelled to tell me that at 4am?” 

Isak nodded. “Yeah strangely I did. I just- I love us Even.” 

Even gazed at his golden angel before kissing his nose “Me too.” 

then he wrapped Isak back into his arms and smiled at the ceiling, thanking the world for bringing these two broken souls together to form the one perfect couple. 

<3 <3 <3 Happy Evak is the best TV couple for 2017 day! <3 <3 <3 

stuck at LAX
stuck at LAX

there was this crazy delay at the airport yesterday! made a song to the chagrin of nearby sleepy passengers, sorry sleepy passengers.

anonymous asked:

Prompt idea: Zuko and Katara are having a secret relationship, and the next morning, when Katara forgets to heal them the night before, the Gaang starts to notice signs of their love making (i.e. hickeys, nail marks on Zuko's back, bruises, teeth mark, etc.)

(rated M for smutty smut smut)

Hope you guys like it!  Thank you for the prompt! :)
(and if anyone has feedback, I’d love to hear it!  All I want to do is improve!!)


The young waterbender looked up from her meal to meet the eyes of her brother, who was eyeing her with a highly concerned look.  She raised a brow and stared back.

“What happened to your neck?!”

Katara merely blinked, her face scrunching up in confusion.  She traced her neck with her fingertips, feeling for something odd, feeling for…


Her hand fell upon a tender spot of skin, and her cheeks flared.  Mentally, she cursed herself for being so careless, for forgetting to heal…

“It’s just…a bug bite, Sokka.  Stop worrying so much.”

The warrior let out a small gasp, bringing a hand up to his mouth.  She knew he really did care for her and her well being, and she knew the bruise looked…well, like a bruise.  But she also knew he had a flair for all things dramatic.

“Well excuse me for caring for my baby sister!” he wailed  The waterbender only rolled her eyes.  Then, with a heated glare she turned to Zuko, who was examining the bowl that contained his breakfast with more care than was necessary.  She huffed.

Toph, however, was the one who broke the silence with a snickering laugh.  Sokka and Aang turned to her with confused looks.  The Duke, Haru and Teo merely looked at one another and shrugged.  Katara shot (useless) daggers at the bling earthbender.  Zuko didn’t move.

“Yeah, some bug that must’ve been.  Why don’t you ask Sparky here about it, I’m sure he knows a thing or two about bugs.”

Aang glared towards Zuko, but his eyes widened when they landed upon a similar welt swelling up upon Zuko’s fair skin.

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Victuri One Shot - Celebration

Pairing: Victor x Yuri

Fandom: Yuri!!! On Ice

Word Count: 2701

Note: Set after episode 5. Just a quick idea I discussed with a friend.

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The Blankets Overhead

As requested by @elven-nicknacks all those many centuries ago with help from this imagine from @imaginexhobbit. Enjoy, dear!!

Thranduil x Reader

Warnings: Cutesy Thrandy.

Word count: 2,155

The darkness lifts shade by shade, trailing the dusty veil of slumber along behind it as the softest strokes play along your jaw, your cheekbone, the bridge of your nose. You scrunch your face as you retreat into your pillow, a sleepy whine getting stuck behind your lips before it is released in a breathy laugh as Thranduil switches to your exposed ear, running the gentle tip of his finger along the sensitive edges.

“Meleth,” he murmurs, a smile in his tone as he draws closer, lifting your hair from your bare shoulder. “Wake up, meleth.”

“Go back to sleep, Thranduil,” you mutter into your pillow.

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Because I said so

**Requested Imagine**

How about the reader is Sam and Dean’s baby sister, Dean being overprotective of her and everything, well he gets mad at the reader for sneaking out of the bunker to go to a party involving boys and alcohol. The reader accidentally gets a little drunk not to mention she’s underage drinking as well, and accidentally calls Dean at like 3am, then Dean expects Sam to help lecture and clean the reader up because she’s a mess?


“No,” was Dean’s split-second reply when you asked about going to one of your friend’s parties over the weekend while his parents were away, “absolutely not.”

“Why not?” you demanded, dropping your backpack onto the counter and stomping over to where he stood by the sink, cleaning a plate. “Why can’t I go?”

“Because I said so.”

“Are you serious?” you spat and he looked down at you. “‘Because I said so’? You’re not Dad, Dean.”

“Well Dad’s dead, Y/n, so I’m in charge.” You stared at him, having not expected his bluntness. He sighed and set his plate down. “Look, I went to keggers when I was a teenager and I know how those things end. You’re not going.”

“I never said it was a kegger.” Dean looked down at you like, ‘come on Y/n, remember who you’re talking to’ and you rolled your eyes as Sam walked into the room. “Dean–”

“I’m not changing my mind, Y/n,” he cut in, drying his plate. He glanced over at your youngest brother. “Back me up here, Sammy.”

“Uh, what?” he said and you turned to him.

“Dean won’t let me go to a party tonight.”

“Oh…” He looked very much like he didn’t want to be a part of that conversation and he quickly grabbed a water bottle from the fridge. “I’m going for a run, I’ll be back later.”

“Sam!” you complained as he swiftly walked out of the room. You rounded on Dean as he was dropping two pieces of bread on his freshly cleaned plate. “You never let me do anything.”

“You can do whatever you want tonight but you’re not going to that party.”

“So I can throw my own party?”

“Sure,” he said and your eyebrows raised. There was a glimmer of hope ahead that your social life wasn’t for the birds until he looked at you and added, “If you want to be grounded for the rest of your life.”

You frowned.

“I hate you.”

“You don’t mean that,” he chuckled and then held his plate out to you. It now held a perfectly made BLT sandwich. “Hungry?”

“No,” you snapped and turned on your heel, leaving the kitchen. He watched you go with a smile and then grabbed a beer from the fridge to wash down his lunch.


“Hey!” Tyler shouted when he opened his door later that night to find you on the other side. “You made it!”

“Ha, yeah,” you said, slipping past him and into the house. Someone knocked into you and sloshed some of their beer onto your shirt right away. You sighed, wondering how you could get the smell out before you got home.

“Did you have to sneak out?” he asked and you nodded.

“Yeah. I convinced my youngest brother that I didn’t feel good and was going outside for some air.”

“Nice,” he chuckled. “Come on, we were about to start playing beer pong.”

You followed him to the living room where a long table was set up with plastic cups on either side. They were set up to form a triangle, but each side had a few missing. You and Tyler stood to the side, cheering on your classmates until one had made the other drink all his beer. The winner looked around with a drunken smile.

“Who’s next?!”

“Y/n is!” Tyler exclaimed and, before you could protest, he shoved you forward. The cups were being set back up in front of you and refilled with beer as you looked around at him.

“I’ve never played this before.”

“Just toss the ball into the cup,” he said, “and he’ll have to drink. If he makes it into your cup, you have to drink.”


You didn’t figure that you’d have to drink that much beer since the guy you were playing with was already pretty drunk but, for a drunk guy, his aim was pretty good. Soon you had downed 6 cups of beer and you were feeling a little queasy. You weren’t sinking any of the balls anymore but the other guy was still having no problems.

“Drink! Drink! Drink!” people were shouting around you when you were draining your final cup of beer. You slammed it down on the table and stumbled into it, knocking the others off. Tyler laughed and grabbed your arm.

“Are you all right?” he asked and you nodded.

“Uh…yeah, I’m…I’m fine,” you said between hiccups. You blinked at him and felt your stomach lurch. “Bathroom?”

“Upstairs,” he chuckled, “on the right.”


You felt like you had run easily upstairs, but in reality you had stumbled the whole way. When you got to the bathroom, you were on your knees and twisting the doorknob violently. You hadn’t even remembered falling.

Once you finally got to the toilet, it didn’t take long for you to start puking. When you were finished, you leaned back against the wall and closed your eyes. You weakly wrapped an arm around your still queasy stomach and turned your head to press your cheek against the cool tile.

You must have passed out for a little while because, next thing you knew, your cheek was being tapped roughly. You stirred and blinked at the person in front of you, Tyler. You groaned and leaned your head back against the wall again, closing your eyes.

“Are you all right?” he asked. “You’ve been in here for like three hours. I thought you had found my room and crashed or something.”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you lied. You knew it was only a matter of minutes before you were bent over the toilet again. You pulled your phone from pocket and checked the time. When you noticed it was almost 3 am, you cringed. “Oh, crap.”


You hurried to unlock your phone and checked for missed texts but a sudden wave of nausea hit you and you accidentally swiped against your 'ICE contacts’ instead. You didn’t know that you had hit Dean’s name or that his phone was ringing but you had just woken up your brother, the one who had forbidden you from coming in the first place.


At the bunker.

Dean, lying flat on his stomach with his pillow hugged to his head, jerked awake when his cell phone went off next to his head. He breathed in deeply and pulled an arm out from beneath his pillow sluggishly. He grabbed his phone, tilted it up so that he could see the screen and closed an eye at the brightness. When he saw your name coming in at 3 am, the sleepiness was suddenly sucked from his body and he quickly sat up.

“Y/n?” he answered gruffly into the phone, his eyes darting from one spot on the floor to another - a nervous tic - as he waited for an answer. He heard you on the other end but you weren’t talking to him.

“Dean is going to kill me,” you were saying and your words were followed by a series of dry heaves. Dean’s eyebrows drew in so close, it was as if he only had one. He pulled the covers from his legs and stood, marching to your room with the phone still pressed to his ear.

“No he won’t, I’ll drive you home right now. He’ll never know.”

“Yes he will,” you groaned. “He can spot someone with a hangover from a mile away.”

He would have smiled if he hadn’t just walked in on your empty bedroom. There was a lump under your blanket, but when he ripped it back there were only clothes and a few childhood stuffed animals in your bed. His grip tightened on his phone.

“Y/n!” He barked your name as he strode back to his bedroom for a pair of jeans and his boots. Your only response was emptying your stomach again. He ripped the keys to the impala off of his nightstand and growled, “Son of a bitch.”

Right before he passed by Sam’s room, the door opened and a sleepy Sam stuck his head out. He looked at Dean and his forehead creased in concern.

“Dean?” he said. “What’s the matter?”

“Get dressed,” he snapped. “We’re going to get Y/n.”

“Where is she?” he asked, a little more alert now.

“At that damn party I told her not to go to.”

“Oh shit,” Sam muttered, thinking back to when you’d told him that you were only going out for air and kicking himself for believing you. He hurried into his room, threw on some clothes and hopped into the Impala just before Dean floored it away from the bunker.


Dean wasted no time clearing out the party. Seconds after bursting through the front door, he located the stereo and tore the wires free from the wall. Thirty heads turned towards him and he reached for the nearest person, grabbed him by the chest of his shirt and wrenched him close.

“Woah,” he said, his beer spilling from his cup. “Dude–”

“Where’s Y/n?” he demanded. He stared at him, unsure who he talking about, so Dean told him your last name too.

“Uh…I-I don’t know. The last time I saw her she was playing beer pong.” Dean tossed him back and smacked the beer out of his hand. “Hey!”

“Get the hell out of here before I take you in.”


Dean pulled his fake FBI badge from his back pocket and flipped it open, holding it up in front of his face. His eyes widened. Dean turned to the rest of your classmates.

“All right, listen up!” He held his badge up for everyone to see. “You have exactly ten seconds to go home before we start arresting–!”

Before he even finished, people were scrambling to get their jackets and clambering over each other to get to the door. One of them shouted, “Who invited the girl with a cop brother?!” Sam and Dean both stood in the middle of the chaos, staring down the underage drinkers until there were none left in the room. Dean pocketed his badge and marched to the living room.

There was a girl with (hair color) hair in the middle of a game of beer pong whom he mistook to be you. Everyone around her was cheering so loudly that they hadn’t noticed the music go off or heard Dean yelling before. He stomped over, grabbed the girl by the shoulders and whipped her around.

She screamed and Dean scanned her face, his brow drawn in. His eyes lowered to the cup in her hand and he reached for it, pulling it away from her. She went to protest but he cut in before she could.

“All right, party’s over,” he said, setting the beer down on the table and pushing her towards the door.

“Who the hell are you?” someone asked and Dean glared at him, deflecting the question.

“Where’s Y/n?”

“Who?” someone else said.

“Y/n Y/L/n.”

“Uh…I haven’t seen her for a while…”

Dean turned to Sam and told him, “Go check the kitchen.” He turned back to the the teenagers. “And the rest of you go the hell home before I start making phone calls.”

To ensure that they would, he flipped the table and sent the cups crashing to the floor. The beer soaked through the carpet and made it frothy. Everyone’s complaints followed him upstairs but he ignored them and threw open every door in the hallway. He called your name and the bathroom door opened.

“Uh, Dean?” Tyler asked and his eyes locked on him. He started towards him.


“She’s in here,” he said and Dean moved him out of the way roughly. He froze when he noticed you slumped against the wall, unconscious. 

He rounded on Tyler.

“What the hell were you doing in here?”

“What–? N-Nothing! I was trying to wake her up.”

Dean hurried forward and crouched in front of you, tapping your cheek roughly. You didn’t respond and he cursed. He pulled you into his arms and carried you out of the bathroom, knocking into Tyler when he walked by.

“How much did she drink?” he asked, looking back at him as he carried you towards the stairs.

“Uh, like ten cups…”

“Full cups?”

“No, like a third full.”

Dean carried you downstairs to an empty living room and handed you off to a worried looking Sam. He told him to bring you to the car while Tyler looked around confusedly. When he was gone, Dean turned to Tyler.

“This your place?” he asked lowly.


“If you ever throw one of these things again and invite my sister, I will come back here and kick your ass. Understand?”

“Y-Yes, sir.”

“Now I’d clean up that beer or it’ll be a bitch to get out in the morning.”

He left the house and walked to the Impala where Sam was holding you upright in the backseat and buckling you in. He leaned you against the door and closed it gently. Dean frowned at you, your face smushed against the window.

“You okay?” Sam asked. He nodded.

“Yeah. Let’s get her home.”


You woke up late the next afternoon with a headache from Hell. You were on the couch in the living room, tucked beneath a blanket and dressed in fresh pajamas. On the coffee table beside you was Tylenol, water and a note from Dean that said he and Sam would be back around five and that you were not to leave the bunker. You tossed it aside and sat up to swallow a few pain meds.

The lights were off throughout the entire bunker and you silently thanked your brothers for that. They could have very easily left them on and made you as miserable as possible so that you’d think twice before going out behind their backs again. But judging by the pajamas and your clean face, they obviously didn’t want you to be any more uncomfortable than you already were.

Instead, when they got home, they read you the riot act.

“You’re grounded,” Dean told you, his arms crossed. You didn’t argue. “For three months.” This time, you looked up at him with a slack jaw.

“What? Why?”

“One month for lying to me. One month for lying to Sam. And one month for making me have to find you passed out in a god damn bathroom.” You lowered your eyes, ashamed. “C'mon, Y/n. You’re smarter than this.”

You didn’t answer.

“Do you even realize how serious and stupid what you did was?” Sam asked. You were silent again. “Y/n. You’re only seventeen. If an actual cop had crashed that party, you would have been arrested.”

“Yeah. And I’m not so sure that we would have bailed you out.”

“Okay,” Sam cut in, frowning at Dean when you looked up, hurt, “yes we would have. But my point was–”

“I got your point,” you interrupted. You began to pull at a frayed string on the blanket’s edge. “I’m not gonna do it again.”

“No, you’re not,” Dean affirmed.

“We care about you,” Sam said, sitting down beside you and pulling you into his side, “that’s why we’re being like this.”

“I know…”

“You don’t how I felt seeing you slumped up against the wall like that, not sure if you were even breathing.” Dean sat down on the coffee table and tilted your head up so that you were looking at him. “You’re my baby sister and I told Dad that I’d take care of you. I can’t if you do stupid things like this.”

“I’m sorry.”

“And you know what’s out there, Y/n. You could have been…anything could have happened.” He shook his head, looking down at the floor. He looked back up at you, trying to be tough and keep his face stern. “You need to listen to me.”

“All right, I said I was sorry.”

“How are you feeling?” Sam asked gently and you shrugged.

“I have a headache.”

“Are you hungry?”

“No,” you groaned. Both of your brothers smiled. You furrowed your brow at them both. “What?”

Sam chuckled, “Nothing. Tell us when you are, okay?”


“Until then, scoot over,” Dean said, “Dr. Sexy is on.”

“Oh, no,” you grumbled, “can I go to my room?”

“Nope,” Dean said, turning on the TV and wrapping an arm around your shoulders. He forced you to lean against him despite valiant efforts on your part. “Part of your punishment is that you have to watch this with me.”

“Sam!” you whined, looking at him in hopes that he’d overrule his brother. He raised his hands up in front of him and stood up, backing away.

“I’m staying out of this,” he chuckled and you glared at him as he walked away. You sighed, pulling away from Dean and leaning back with your arms folded across your chest.

“So…do you want a burger tonight?” he asked and a bubble of nausea formed in your stomach.


“You sure? You don’t want extra fries?” He smirked at you. “What’s dinner if it doesn’t come in a greasy bag?”

“Ugh!” you groaned, throwing yourself back to lie on the couch, covering your face in your hands. “I hate you.”

Dean chuckled and patted your leg.

“I know.”

The Outsiders - Chapter One

A/N: I wrote this story about 5 months ago for a friend, it’s my first totally complete phanfic that took me quite a while to do. It’s got about thirteen parts, which are all complete and edited, though please excuse any silly plot faults or mistakes I might have made. I tried to not just make it a ‘boy meets boy and suddenly everything is wonderful’ kind of story, and I hope that comes across. If you do take the time to read this, thank you so much and I hope you enjoy it.

Warnings: None

Summary: Dan Howell is the son of the town’s most respected businessman, and his whole life is planned out ahead of him. He is to work in the bakery that his father owns, get married to a nice young lady, and follow in his fathers footsteps, keeping his head down, his nose clean, and make his family proud. It’s a simple life, but Dan doesn’t think it could be any more dull. What he really wants is to be his own person, not just a clone of his father; he wants to be an actor, he wants to leave his town, and he wants to choose who he wants to marry, not someone who his parents want him to. One day, a new young scriptwriter comes to town to work with Dan’s theatre group, and Dan’s life suddenly becomes a lot more complicated.

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