the hangover part

Imagine Chris helping you through a hangover.

A/N: Part 2, y'all. ✌🏻️ You can read this as a standalone or go over and read Part 1, ‘Imagine admitting you want to marry Chris while you’re drunk.’ Whatever you feel like, this is for your enjoyment; you don’t have to feel obligated. Also- I’ve decided to make this a four part thing, maybe five if I decide to write the wedding. Inbox me if you want to be tagged to this mini-series. Anyhooooo, that’s all I have to say. Bisous 💋

You awoke with the world’s worst hangover; it wasn’t the first time but it’d been a long time since you’d one with this level of discomfort. You’d heard the saying ‘it hit me like a train’, now you were actually experiencing it. You couldn’t remember much of last night, you just knew you partied a little too hard at Carly’s bachelorette party. You couldn’t even remember how you got home, you suspected it was Luca- your best friend and only sober member- that put you in a cab. You made a mental note to call her, as well as Chris, to inform them that you were in fact alive.

You opened your eyes and immediately closed them again, wincing at the tiniest amount of sunlight peeping through the blue curtains. Blue curtains? Weren’t your curtains purple? You were in too much pain to take a second look; you weren’t overly concerned, you were sure it was just your hangover messing with your vision. You groaned and grabbed the nearest pillow, burying your face in blackout darkness because somehow closing your eyes weren’t enough. Fatigue and nausea washed over you, finalizing your decision to stay in bed all day. A bed that- oddly didn’t feel like your bed.

You pushed the pillow off your face and forced your eyes open to take in the room that was definitely not yours; you were in too much of a daze to realize it was Chris’. You sat up a little too quickly and your head spun, the urge to throw up everything you ate and drank last night overwhelmed you. You groaned and hunched over, burying your face in the bundle of sheets while pressing your fingers against your throbbing temples.

“Mornin’ sunshine.” You heard Chris’ voice and you realized you had somehow ended up at his place instead of your own. You looked up at him; he stood in the doorway with tightly pursed lips, obviously biting the inside of his cheek to suppress his urge to laugh at your misery. “How are you feeling?” He asked, a soft chuckle broke free as he walked over. “You look very beautiful.” He smiled as he teased, taking your hands in his as he sat down.

“I know, can’t you see that I’m on top of the world?” You joked and he chuckled softly; he was always sweet to keep his voice down around hungover you. “I really did it this time,” you managed a soft chuckle yourself, running a hand through your hair. You were surprised it wasn’t knotted or tainted with specks of vomit; did you throw up? You couldn’t remember. “What happened last night? How did I get here?”

“Well- according to drunk Y/N,” he began, brushing his thumbs gently up and down the back of your hands. “You can always find your way back to me.” He told you and you smiled. “I think Luca put you into a cab, there was a text from her on your phone for me.”

“Why didn’t she just text your phone?” You narrowed your eyes in confusion.

“Beats me,” he shrugged then chuckled, “she’s your weird best friend.” You chuckled at that. “Now-” he released your hands and rose to his feet. “I know you want to stay in bed all day but you need to eat something. I would bring your breakfast to you in bed but- we both know you have that insane rule of no food in bedrooms.”

“I’m sorry, do you want cockroaches and ants when you sleep?”

“C'mon,” he chuckled and held out his hand for you to take. “I got some coffee, pancakes and bacon waiting for you downstairs.” Your stomach growled with excitement at the sound of your breakfast. “Caffeine, grease, carbs, and sugar. Just what you need to get over this hangover,” he winked with a click of his tongue.

“Oh God.” You groaned and let him pull you to your feet. “Everything hurts, Chris.” You whined and rubbed your throbbing left temple when he released your hand and wrapped an arm around you. “That’s it, I am never drinking again.”

“You do realize you say that every time you wake up with a bad hangover, right?” He chuckled as the two of you made your way downstairs. Your eyes narrowed slightly at the two fully packed duffle bags by the door; one of them was yours. “Yet here we are,” he teased you and you rolled your eyes; somehow, that hurt too. “Look on the bright side, it’s Saturday and you don’t work on the weekends.”

“I’m a screen writer, as long as I’m breathing- I’m working.” You retorted and he chuckled softly. “But I don’t have to go into the studio which is good. But I do have a script to finish which-” you heaved a sigh, “I can’t seem to do, so not so good. Don’t you ever get sick of your job?” You asked, completely forgetting who you were talking to. “Right-” you pressed your lips together when you remembered. “Who could get sick of being Captain America?”

“You forget I’m not always Captain America, I’ve had my fair share of bad roles that make doing what I love a bit of a drag.” He reminded you and you sighed again. “Sweetheart, I know your work can get a little taxing but- you are doing what you love to do. Yes, you’ll get the occasional bad job but you’ve also had some really great ones. Shall I take you to your Oscar to remind you how much you love your job?”

“No,” you chuckled. “I’m very aware of how much I love my job, after all-” You looked up at him and planted a kiss on his jaw. “It is what brought us together. Don’t mind me, it’s just hangover me talking. She’s a bit of a bummer.”

“Yeah,” he chuckled, “drunk you is much more fun.” He took his arm off you as the two of you entered the kitchen. He went over to the coffee pot and poured you a cup, he creamed and sugared it before passing it to you. “Here,” he grabbed the plate of pancakes and bacon he prepared for you and put it in front of you as you took a seat at the breakfast bar.

“I’m sorry I woke you up last night,” you told him after taking a sip of your steaming hot coffee. “I bet you weren’t so happy to see me at such an ungodly hour,” you joked and chuckled softly. “Next time I go out and party without you, take your key from me.”

“Oh stop,” he chuckled. “I’m always happy to see you, you’re my girl- there will never be a bad time to see your beautiful face.” You smiled and he smiled back. “Plus- I’m an actor, ungodly hours are my sweet spot,” he shrugged nonchalantly and you laughed. “You are extremely lucky I made you take that Advil last night,” he pointed out with a smug smile, “otherwise you wouldn’t be laughing right now.”

“Can you catch me up on last night?” You placed your cup down and started cutting your pancakes up. “I’m sure I did something stupid, I always seem to do that when I’m drunk. So- what did I do this time?” You asked then forked a chunk of pancake into your mouth.

“You broke your favorite drinking glass,” he told you and your face fell at that new piece of information. “Don’t worry, I’m sure I can get Stan Lee’s team to send another one. I’ll probably ask for a plastic version so you can’t break it after a bender,” he teased and you chuckled. “But that was about it, nothing overly stupid.”

“That doesn’t sound like me, did I say anything stupid?”

“Nope,” he shook his head. “Well- you asked for Fruit Loops but- that’s not that stupid, you’re a bit of an addict when it comes to cereal.” You narrowed your eyes, pondering. “You were drunk off your face, what were you expecting from yourself? Oh- you did strip off your dress in the kitchen. That was fun for me, you were a sight to see.” He teased and you chuckled. “Not one of your best drunk moments but it was a pretty good one.”

“I’m glad you still found me amusing.” You giggled and he nodded, chuckling softly. “Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask.” You began when the image of the two duffles came back to you. “Why are there two duffles by the door? One of them is mine so- I know it’s not you going on some business trip. Are we going somewhere?” You quizzed.

“I was thinking of taking you to the cabin for the weekend,” he nodded. “I already packed everything and the car’s ready to go. I was just waiting for you to wake up to have breakfast before we leave.”

“For the weekend?” Your eyes narrowed in confusion. “But it’s Saturday and it’s-” you glanced at the clock. “Ten-thirty. By the time we get out to the cabin, it’ll be like four and we’d be exhausted from the drive. We won’t even spend a full day there 'cause we gotta get back before Monday, so what’s the point?”

“I just feel like it,” he shrugged. “Don’t be a bummer, it’ll be fun. I got a playlist and car snacks and- everything we usually get when we drive out there. Plus- I already called Scott to go out there and set things up for us, if I cancel now- he’s going to be pissed.”

“Chris, I am suffering from a major hangover and I have a script to finish writing. Do you really think now is the best time to go out to the cabin?” You asked and he nodded, smiling. “Can’t we just- go next weekend, or even wait until Christmas to go? We can get our families out there and do a whole thing. It’ll be so much more fun and less time constricted.”

“I can’t wait that long,” he shook his head.

“Why not?” You narrowed your eyes in confusion.

“I just can’t,” he answered vaguely, smiling. “Eat your breakfast while I go sort out the rest of our stuff,” he leaned over the bar top and kissed your cheek before walking out of the kitchen. “We’ll leaving in half an hour so-” he glanced back at you, “do what you need to do, take another Advil if you need.”

“You can call Alex if I don’t finish my script on time!” You called after him and winced at your own loud voice. “Honestly.” You muttered under your breath and continued to eat your breakfast as Chris picked the bags up off the floor and walked them out to the car.

He popped the trunk and unzipped his duffle, pulling away the first layer of his clothes to reveal the Tiffany&Co ring box that he’d been hiding for months now. After last night, he simply couldn’t wait any longer. There was no perfect timing, there was just the perfect person and you were his perfect person. He was ready for what was going to be the best weekend of his life whereas you were completely clueless and unaware of what was yet to come.

Mini Series Masterlist

Drunk Minds, Sober Hearts - A Chris Evans Mini Series

Part 1 - Imagine admitting you want to marry Chris while you’re drunk.

Part 2 - Imagine Chris helping you through a hangover.

Part 3 - Imagine road trips with Chris.

Part 4 - Imagine Chris proposing with dessert.

Part 5 - Imagine your wedding with Chris.

Epilogue - Imagine eating pizza at a hotel with Chris after your wedding.


Comic: Hangover (Part 1)

Thundercracker x Soundwave (G1-ish)

Reading direction: Down, Right to Left (Manga direction)

I have. A mighty need. For a decent TF doujinshi/fan comic.

As there aren’t many, I thought I’d draw some with one of my fav pairing. And fail at it miserably.

I sold my soul to Satan to draw this. Please excuz mah incompetence.

Broken Pieces (Crowbar Part 2)

Imagine Sam coming over to comfort you after you broke up with Dean.

Requested By: onlysightlyimpossible

Word Count: 1,321

Read Part One

It was hard to tell which was pounding more, your head or your front door. Your shoulder clipped the doorframe as you stumbled out of your bedroom and your shin banged the coffee table on your dazed journey through the living room. Your disorientation was one part the hangover that echoed in your skull, one part the sleepiness that still clung to your heavy eyelids, and one part not having lived here in your old house in months. You were literally stumbling back into your old habits

In all honestly, you didn’t have a lot of friends (that were still alive) so it seemed more likely that the cops were waiting outside your door rather than a shoulder to cry on, but sure enough, it was Sam who was standing out on your front porch, all six feet of him. The Winchesters, it seemed, were full of surprises. His sheepish half-smile dropped when he caught sight of you – probably a whiff too. Liquor was practically dripping from your pores and you couldn’t even imagine the mess on your head that was once your hair.

“You look terrible.”

“Good to see you too, Sammy,” you said, already pushing the door shut, but he was able to get a foot in and his palm against the wood before it closed completely. You groaned, leaning your head against the side of the door with a pathetic, pleading look in your eyes.

“Don’t you ever get tired of cleaning up your brother’s messes?” you asked him. The comment didn’t phase him. He had grown familiar to your rough edges and tendency to lash out at anyone who tried to help you.

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Night at the museum - Part 2

Summary: Dean x Reader - A greek god of alcohol messes with the readers judgement during a hunt, causing both Dean and her to act like drunken fools.

Triggers: None.

Word Count: 1849

Y/N = Your name  Y/E/C = Your eye colour

Part 1

You woke up the next morning with the hangover from hell. Your head felt like it was exploding, your brains hammering against the constraints of your skull as your tongue stuck to the top of your mouth in dehydration. Thankfully your stomach was all right, since you actually hadn’t drowned yourself in alcohol, considering the door to the bathroom was barricaded for some reason. You were sure it hadn’t been like that last evening, but the more you tried to think of what had happened the more your pounding head hurt.

The last thing you could remember was working on some research about the Greek God before everything just went black. You jolted upright at that thought. Alcohol induced blackouts weren’t a good thing for anyone to have to deal with, even less so when you were a hunter. Not keeping your wits about you could get you killed in a split second in your profession.

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Thanks to @never-is-a-long-time for tagging me!

The rules: Tag 9 people you want to know better

Relationship status
One giant puppy called Ila, she’s a neo mastiff
Last song I listened to
Jesus Of Suburbia - Green Day
Favourite TV show
The Walking Dead, RAW and Smackdown Live
First Fandom
I’m a music and wrestling and superhero nut so those?
Okay here’s a little list. 1. Ickis, 2. The Beast, 3. The Flesh, 4. Bubba
Star sign
Cancer (July 21st)

Time right now
12:11 pm
Favourite music artist(s)
Oh god. Okay. Red Hot Chili Peppers, Dot Hacker, Warpaint, Grimes, Green Day, Adolescents, Twenty One Pilots, The 1975, Foo Fighters, Mac DeMarco, The Prettiots, FrnkIero And The Celebreation, the list is endless really
Song stuck in your head
California - Grimes
Last movie watched
The Hangover Part 2
Last TV show watched
What are you wearing right now?

Black jeans, mismatched socks and a tux tshirt (I’m so cool right)
When did you create your blog?
Oh god like 2013?
What kind of stuff do you post?
Jish Klanghoofa
Do you have other blogs?
Nah mate
Do you get asks regularly?
Lol I wish but people have been tagging me and stuff more and it makes me feel all fuzzy inside
Why did you choose your URL?
Because @/we-turn-red was already taken

Hogwarts house
Proud Hufflepuff among a family of Slytherins
Pokemon team
I’d be Instinct lbr
Average hours of sleep
lol I go to sleep at like one and wake up at like nine/ten/eleven
Lucky numbers?
3, 7, 13, 17, 21, 27
Favourite characters?
Do wrestling gimicks count? In that case Finn Balor, Jack Gallagher and Seth Rollins
How many blankets cover you while you’re sleeping?
I have like a giant duvet
Dream job?


@klinghxffer @howisyourprocess @parallel—–universe @frugasmsince1970 and @the-fragile !!!

The Hangover

Hiccup finally tells Astrid how he feels…sort of.

Chapter Two: Astrid

Toothless and Stormfly adore each other, which is the only reason Hiccup is eventually able to track Astrid down. Granted it is pretty late in the afternoon by the time he finally gets his act together enough to even start looking for her. He stops in for a quick soak at the bath house first, since honestly he smells like something someone would scrape off the bottom of their shoe. He briefly toys with the idea of burning his clothes as well, but his dad assures him that the wash house will be dealing with far worse over the next few days in the aftermath of Hiccup’s birthday celebration.

The sun is already hanging low in the sky by the time he arrives at Astrid’s house, freshly cleaned and clothed. Her dad Erik answers the door, looking a bit frayed around the edges. He stands at the door blinking red-rimmed eyes in the bleak light of the late day sun as Hiccup apologises for disturbing him and asks after Astrid.

“Astrid,” her dad blinks blearily, as if he’s having trouble recalling her face, “oh, she left early this morning with that dragon of her’s, uh…”

“Stormfly,” Hiccup supplies helpfully.

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On the Rocks

This is part 6 of the Bottoms Up! series I’ve ben writing! Here are the previous parts:

Bottoms Up!

Hangover (Part 2)

Say, What’s in This Drink? (Part 3)

How do you take your Coffee? (Part 4)

Drinking Games

Original Requests:
Hi I have a request for an imagine, one shot, whatever you prefer to call it. Can you do one where the reader goes ice skating with Dean and the reader is really scared but Dean helps them keep balance and such? Thank you! This is my first request so hopefully I gave you enough inspiration

This is another request that got deleted so if you were the person who sent this in please let me know if you got this! I sure hope you like it! It definitely gave me inspiration! Hope it’s alright I put it into the Bottoms Up series.


Can you do another sequel. Maybe one where they’re drunk as hell and they’re making out in a motel but the reader falls asleep on Dean while they’re making out?

Word Count: 2375

Summary: The reader faces her childhood fear and for the first time has to rely on the Winchesters for a case.

You sat on the bench and eyed the ice-rink tentatively. You lived your life destroying the evils of the world. Fearing nothing. But here you stood, absolutely terrified. You pulled your coat closer around you to block out the cold winter air. You shuddered and turned to walk away but was blocked by a large body.

“Pardon me—“ you said and tried to side step past the man without looking up to see his face. You just wanted to get out. He stepped to the side with you, continuing to block your way. You lifted your head and caught the gaze of a pair of intense eyes; a hunter’s eyes.

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