#also i went to a book club earlier and it was super annoying and awful

[kazz-brekker]

exasperated that i don't have any way to watch the oscars this year so i'm gonna go watch shogun instead

[ubwfc]

Bristol 1s v Hertfordshire 1s

 Last Wednesday saw a Wednesday Night Lights and the deciding game in the southern prem. With Cardiff Met winning their game a few hours earlier, Bristol needed to win or draw to remain in the top spot…#stress

The crowds were absolutely huge. Around 140 people showed up to Coombe Dingle – including club members, flatmates and of course Laura’s dad. There was also an online following via the insta livestream coming from all over the world, Jessie Robbo in Australia, Ellie Vaughan in France, Sazza Crookes in Spain and Alice Shiner in Truro.

The game was underway, and Hertfordshire had an early chance, but it was shoved aside by Amaia. Hertfordshire continued to threaten Bristol and managed to meg Ash (oops), but don’t fear, Chey was there to cover. There were fabulous clearances from Big Nance and Laura’s beautiful head. Bristol began to gain control of the game and were pushing relentlessly into Hertfordshire’s half. The first of around a million free kicks was taken by Anna, where she whipped it into the box, only for it to go out for a corner (BOO). It appeared that Liz had been taking skills tips from the infamous Helly Blyth as she managed a bicycle kick straight into her own face. (Don’t worry Liz; the fact that you hit the ball means you’re one up on Helly already.) Trim, obviously stunned by Liz’s amazing skills, decided that she should try her luck in goal, randomly switching places with Amaia before realising she is not the keeper and getting back into position to help clear the ball.

Laura ‘the bun’ Barrett was provided with an opportunity and all the time in the world. She played the ball at her feet for the majority of Bristol’s half before playing a brilliant ball up the field. In a sequence of events we cannot recall, Bristol lost the ball and then gave away a free kick (again, the first of many). Now in Bristol’s half, an unnamed player (Laura) slapped the ball with her silly hand, but fortunately the ref didn’t see it!!! Meanwhile, on the side lines, Helly proceeded to tell the entire chicken shed group and the online viewers about her disgusting lasagne that she cooked after a night out (???!!) – if I remember correctly it consisted of tomato puree, garlic and mushrooms and resembled water, but you’ll have to ask Helly for the intimate details and the recipe!!

Back to the pitch, and Chey is giving everyone a skill school lesson, getting round 4 Hertfordshire players. The beauty continued with a ball from Henna to the middle of the field, described as ‘sex on a plate’ by Jess M. Sounds nicer than Helly’s lasagne LOL bants. Henna continues the play with a long shot on goal which floats just wide. Back to the chicken shed, and the security decides to ruin the atmosphere by stealing the tinnies that the supporters were drinking so sophisticatedly and subtly – no thank you Coombe!!!

The great balls continued to fly up from the defensive back 4 of Ash, Trim, Phoebe and Laura, with the attackers receiving them and passing them up to the Hertfordshire goal with ultimate finesse. With a vast amount of chances and some lovely football, Bristol couldn’t seem to bag themselves a goal. In sheer anger of the lack of goals, it appears that Laura had decided that the supporters were to blame, booting the ball right into the viewing platform in the chicken side, scaring the heebeegeebees out of the crowd!!! BE CAREFUL LAURA

During all the trauma, Hertfordshire scored what can only be described as the worst goal in history – much like the ones in FIFA when it just rolls in without any power, precision or skill. With a goal under the oppositions belt, and the recent loss of our drinkies (RIP), Bristol were feeling a little deflated, but the support was ongoing nonetheless, with some of the shouting and noises resembling ‘squealing pigs.’ 0-1 Bristol.

Another long ball over the top and their unusually rapid striker (steroids??), plus the lack of time for Bristol to compose themselves, leads to another goal for Hertfordshire, 0-2 Bristol.

Despite the score, Bristol continued to push on, firing shots away and pushing the ball up. A lovely shot by Nancy, after her signature tip toe run up, was saved by the keeper and unfortunately Liz couldn’t make it in time! Liz’s series of unfortunate events continued with a header from a free kick that just couldn’t find the net!!

Hertfordshire pushed for another goal, but it just wasn’t going to happen with Amaia guarding the goal. The play switched and Bristol attacked once again. This time, it was Anna’s time to shine with a mesmerising and delicious shot which was ONLY JUST tipped over by the keeper!! Stop being so mean Hertfordshire… HT 0-2 Bristol

With the second half about to commence, and with India having worked out which way Bristol was shooting, Bristol were quick to dominate and push for every ball, no doubt spurred on by a motivational half time speech courtesy of Bill. Nancy’s cross/shot dropped just behind the goal leaving everyone on the edge of their seats. Frustration was beginning to set in for Henna and Phoebe who were obviously hungry because they absolutely  sandwiched a poor Hertfordshire player. Did she deserve it? In the eyes of football Gods, yes.

Balls were flying in consistently, with one from Chey landing on the head of a Hertlessshire player, who nearly headed it into their own net, IF ONLY!! Stella and Anna continued to battle in the middle, chasing down balls and creating opportunities, only to be unluckily caught offside. The subs were getting ready, warming up and gyrating their hips. Striker, Liz, was replaced by Sophie, the super sub. GREAT GAME AMERICAN LIZ

With all the frustration mounting up, Bristol yet again, took out their anger on the supporters, smashing the ball, AS HARD AS LIGHTNING, into the chicken shed!! Junal, also known as the blind ref who went to India’s school #fwends , should have gone to Specsavers as he whipped out his big……..yellow card for our Henny Penny!!! WHAAAAAT??!?!?!??! (said in Liv Rae’s voice) A booking was not enough to stop Bristol from maintaining possession and the pressure on Hertlessshire. In, what has been reported to be her 4th free kick of the game, Stella kicked the ball with a kind of finesse the club has never seen before. It was almost in slow motion, as it sailed over the annoying defender, who didn’t understand that the wall could not be placed directly in front of the ball. It dipped at the right time and was so nearly a goal for Bristol that they so deserved. With tensions running high, Ash came off for some new legs, in the form of Niamh.

With time running out, Anna took it upon herself to blast the ball at the goal, the keeper caught it, but stumbled back, potentially crossing the line, yet it as denied as a goal!!! Absolutely criminal. (WE HAVE THE LIVE FOOTAGE IF YOU WOUD LIKE TO SEE IT JUNAL).

Bristol continued to fire off shots, with Sophie coming close to a goal. After running her socks off (check the lost property for those), Chey came off for Keira, who helped maintain pressure and create opportunities. Phoebe picked up the ball in Bristol’s half and strode down the wing, beating Hertlessshire players left, right and centre, then switching play and placing the box into the box in one foul swoop.

With the last 10 minutes underway, Hertlessshire were searching for ways to waste time. This came in the form of their number 4. I think we all know the one… Having already been booked by the ref for a horrific late tackle on our Henny Penny which caused Jess M to shout, ‘SEE YOU IN THE PARKING LOT’ (wrong continent babes), she clearly hadn’t learned her lesson, ‘heading’ the ball and proceeding to lie on the floor in ‘pain’ whilst ‘crying’ for approximately 2 minutes. After some harsh, but well deserved abuse, from the supporters, Junal grabbed Henna and brought her to chicken shed to reprimand the supporters for being rowdy and just having a giggle. He threatened us with an abandonment of the game. BOOOOO

The end was drawing nigh, but Bristol did not show any sign of giving up. All this came to a HEAD in the 92nd minute with a beautiful free kick from Stella, and a subsequent diving header from Henna, which sent the ball rocketing past the keeper and into the net. 1-2 Bristol. With the crowds in awe and screaming with joy, Bristol ran back to the centre, knowing there was only 40 seconds remaining for them to get another goal. After one last push, Junal blew his……whistle and with that the fight for the league title was sadly over. ☹ FT 1-2 Bristol

Despite the score and the 1s being understandably devastated, they have shown great ability and teamwork throughout the league, and after the promotion to the league only last year, they have so much to be proud of!! The team expressed their gratitude for the amazing support they received not only at the game, but throughout the season. We’d like to thank all of those who have supported the team and want to congratulate the 1s on their amazing performance. Their team spirits and passion for the club and the game are something to be admired. WELL DONE GIRLS, WE ARE SO PROUD OF YOU <3 <3 <3 #rawr (I love you in dinosaur)

Squad: Amaia Emerson Phoebe Tate Emily Trim Laura Barrett Ash Guest Stella GM Henna Butcher Nancy Gilmartin Liz Robinson Cheyenne Denny Anna Cairns Niamh Carty Sophie Price Keira Madden Man of the match: Henny Penny (the one and only): for leading the team throughout the league and for showcasing her undeniable tekkers and passion. Also for her runs, headers, shots and for never giving up, mwah (xo) Dick of the day:Chicken shed fans: for nearly getting the game abandoned (we’re just passionate Junal!!)

[youmightaswell]

Die!

The Old Man and the Sea Cabana 

As you know I recently went to Turks and Caicos with an ex-boyfriend, a man I dated 23 years ago and who I then lost touch with for 15 years. We recently reconnected and thought it might be fun to go to Club Med TC as friends because we went there back in '98 when we were originally dating and had such a great time.

While I had not spoken to him in many, many years, I had been back to Club Med Turks and Caicos since our first trip in '98. In fact, I had returned last year with some friends, and while the beach is consistently voted one of the most beautiful in the world, Club Med can leave a lot to be desired in terms of luxury. The property was renovated last year and the pool and dining areas are all new. The priciest rooms have been renovated as well and now even include oceanfront balconies. T&C is a costly place to stay regardless, but there are many far more luxurious properties to stay at in the area, but Club Med has the largest stretch of beach out of any other hotel which is quite alluring.

Last year there were some things that really irked me about my Club Med stay which I denoted in my subsequent Tripadvisor review of my stay at Turquoise. I had hoped maybe some of these had been addressed by the time we arrived. Sadly, one very crucial one hadn't been -- which lead to an almost Seinfeldian plight.

Club Med is very self-serve- oriented. You will not be brought drinks at the beach, there are no table reservations and most of all, if you want a beach cabana, they are limited and are on a first-come, first-served basis. You will be pitted against your fellow travelers. Be ready. 

Knowing this I initially put my ex in charge of getting and maintaining towels during our stay. Beach towels are to Club Med as cigarettes are to prison. They skimp on the towels, but we quickly acquired extras because in prison I would clearly run shit. The only way to "reserve" a beach chair at the pool or beach is to put your towel on it and some other personal item(s). For this reason people want to accumulate as many towels as possible in order to have access to both pool and beach seats. I also gathered free books left at the communal “library” at the resort. Pro-tip: They make great seat holders. 

In our quiet, VIP section of the property outside our room, there is a row of cabanas that offer shade, tables and premium access to, and views of, ocean. Our first day there we noticed there is a row of cabanas spanning to the left of our entrance path and then just a single, lone one to the right. Even though my ex was supposed to get up super early each morning to place towels on the chairs in that magical spot, that first morning I couldn't sleep so went out and claimed it for our own at 7:15am. We agreed it was the best one because we could be segregated and not be annoyed by other people in close range People are the worst, amirite?

We spent a nice, quiet, near-idyllic day in our cabana and set our sights on making sure it was ours for the remainder of our trip. My ex agreed to wake even earlier 6:30am the following day and place the towels in that spot.

Sadly, when he got there at the aforementioned time the following morning, a couple had already claimed them and was sitting in the cold -- the sun had not yet fully risen -- manning them as if in fear of raid or attack. We begrudgingly took one of the other cabanas in the crowded area. We headed to breakfast with a little less spring in our steps.

For the rest of the day we could pettily talk about nothing else -- those awful people had gotten there ahead of us! How dare they?! My ex and I, thankfully, still share the same dark sense of humor so this trip turned into a sort of hate-watch for us. 

Now it was war! I vowed to be out there by 5:30am the following morning, which I realized was truly an insane time to wake, especially on what is supposed to be a relaxing vacation. That night I slept restlessly, for fear I wouldn't wake in time to get the chairs.

It sort of made me flashback to a time years ago when my local pool first introduced a limited amount of lounge chairs that people would begin lining up for an hour before the pool opened in order to rush in and claim one. I became so caught up in the competition I even wrote an essay about the phenomenon in my local paper, entitled, "The Gods Must Be Crazy..." 

That summer I had 'Eye of the Tiger' and never was without a lounger, and I wasn't about to break that record now. Sure, I was older and less spry, but just as-- if not more so -- insane.

I raced out there unshowered and half-cocked, but fully loaded down with towels, at 5:20am only to see the cabana was yet again taken already by that same old couple.

WTF?

Who were these fucking people? My ex and I spent the day wildly speculating. Did they even have a room at the hotel or were they actually living in the cabana, he joked? The guy who I would always find there in the wee hours of the morning was about 65 and his wife was a bit younger.  They literally did not leave the cabana at all all day -- including not to use the restroom or to get food. I would walk by them slowly, squinting trying to ascertain if they had the obligatory Club Med wristbands. Who was this "white whale"? We were fascinated and obsessed.

We never saw them at dinner or any of the other hotel events, and they were there before us each morning and after us each evening as we headed back to the room after a full day in the sun.

Day after day I failed. I was disheartened each morning -- even though I got out there earlier and earlier -- to see I had been one-upped yet again.

On our final day I set the alarm for 4am. No fucking way anyone in their right mind would be out on a desolate beach at that time. I would out-insane the insane.  In fact even walking from the non-lit areas by the housing down the dark path to the sand at that time was downright dangerous. But at 4am I threw a beach coverup over my pjs, pink blow-up float and blue towels in hand, and tiptoed out of the room as to not wake my ex. 

I.would.not.be.defeated. I would be victorious! 

As I hobbled onto the beach, bleary-eyed, I headed to the lone cabana. There's no way it would not be mine. It was so dark even the moonlight did not illuminate the cabana but by now I knew it by heart. I trudged there, looking around, and not another person was in sight. My heart was beating out of my chest. I was finally going to win!

But, lo. As I got within a few feet of it,  I saw him -- my white whale. Or rather the old white man, this time wrapped in his white bed sheets to keep from getting sand flea bites. HE WAS SLEEPING IN THE CABANA! Chris had been right; they were literally living in the cabana. Was he that enamored of this cabana he opted to sleep there to reserve it, forgoing his perfectly good room? Why hadn't I had that sort of fortitude?

I placed my stuff on the other side forlornly, my pink float looking ridiculous in the middle of the night. I shivered in my tiny pjs and cover up. I briefly worried about getting murdered or raped on the beach, because surely the white while would not leave his coveted cabana to save me.

I leered across the pathway dividing me and the man who had what I so wanted. As the moonlight finally shone down upon us our eyes met. And for a moment I realized how insane I looked. Sure, he was the one wrapped in hotel bed sheets sleeping in a cabana for God knows what reason, but with him witnessing my being out there at 4am as well trying to one-up, I knew he knew just how insane I was.

I hightailed it out of there and back up to our room. By now my ex was stirring, wondering where the hell I had gone. I gave him a look of defeat.

Just as in Hemingway’s tale, this was more about man’s battle against himself than his battle against nature. 

There’s always next year.

[just-a-wayward-son-carrying-on]

Pain

So this is my first official fanfic EVER! We’ll see how it actually turned out since I got kind of lazy toward the end and I got so caught up in the platonic relationships I forgot about my romance! Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, reader (and 5 original characters I guess) Pairing: Dean x reader Warnings: mentions of murder, smut-ish, fluff maybe? I don’t really know-if you’re sensitive proceed with caution Words: 3623 Y/N “Why does it hurt so much?” you whimpered into Sam’s chest. “Because it was real,” He replied, patting your hair. “It wasn’t supposed to be. It was supposed to be an adventure,” You pulled back from his embrace, “God, how did I let myself love you guys so much?” “Come on Y/N it’s not your fault. There was nothing you could’ve done to stop it.” You gave Sam a weak smile, “Thank you…for everything.” There wasn’t much you hadn’t been through in the past five years. One thing was for certain, this wasn’t the first time Sam had helped you heal heartbreak–only this time you couldn’t go slash a guy’s tires or egg a guy’s house. From near death experiences to love triangles you’d been there, done that. “Don’t mention it. And you have my number if you need anything?” “Yeah. Good-bye Sam Winchester, it’s been a pleasure,” you extended your hand to him. He shook it and smiled. Tears streamed down your cheeks, from the ache in your chest and from this farwell. Before you could change your mind you spun on your heel and boarded the plane. The flight attendant went through the safety procedures before allowing you to take out your past times. You got a book out and started reading, your only mistake was bringing a tragic love story. You bawled the entire seven hour flight from Minnesota to Manhattan. You hailed a cab upon landing and was able to safely make it to your rented apartment. It was in Chelsea with a gorgeous view. This was your turf, you knew it like the back of your hand. Your sister rented the apartment alone after you left with the Winchesters but before that you roomed together. It was surprising nice to walk into the familiar place and hug her again. Of course she already knew the whole story so she didn’t antagonize you when she found your super sappy story in your luggage. You still got a very disapproving glare though. Not much could make you feel worse than you already did and the half-hearted disapproval from her didn’t do the trick, much to her dismay. Although you knew you had responsibilities, paying your half of the rent, helping put food on the table, you allowed yourself to wallow in self-pity and self-hatred. You blamed yourself for letting Sam get hurt on that hunt. You blamed yourself for not being good enough for Dean. You blamed yourself for Dean’s dangerous life even if you couldn’t control it. Six weeks later your sister managed to coax you out of bed much less the house for the first time. She was in a stunning black dress fitted to her every curve; and she managed to slip you into a shimmering gold thing with thin straps and a plunging neckline. Rather than veg out on ice cream and various other comfort foods, you barely ate at all during your exile in bed; so rather than gain weight you lost it and it showed. The slightly fitted dress showed your hip bones and collar bone through it. Thankfully it hid any sign of your ribs. You managed to walk in your six inch pumps, and dance, and eventually follow a man home. You were pretty sure his name was Matt but it was difficult to be sure in your drunken state. You vaguely remembered that you prepared yourself for the walk of shame the next morning on that stumble through the streets. You were right. You walked home barefoot and completely drained. When you slipped into the apartment you found Grace passed out on the sofa in a lacey black bra and pants. No one else was in the rooms and she claimed that she returned alone last night. After that detail you didn’t ask anymore. The following day you went out and looked for a job. A place a few blocks from you was hiring a waitress so you went for it. You also applied for a job at McDonalds and a Starbucks down the street. The waitressing paid the most so when they accepted, you happily started right away. Within two months you were back on your feet and happy. It was insane how nice it was to have distance between yourself and the supernatural world. The clubs around us were not bad encouragement either. Family came to visit for the holidays and you were making just enough money to pay rent, buy food, and occasionally purchase a new outfit or two. Grace was the one with the real job and she made sure you knew she was technically the responsible one. “You know, Y/N, at the firm they helped us prepare by creating a calendar to help manage our time.” She patronized. You didn’t mind, actually, you were overjoyed at her success. Her friends became your friends and you all had a wonderful time. You all had different jobs, Ethan was an actor, Hope was an optometrist, Danny was an exterminator, and Chad worked for a radio company while Grace was close to becoming junior partner at a big law firm. You were all over the board. It was all close to perfect until the day Danny came in complaining about an all too familiar story. “It was so weird. Whatever it is ripped the raccoon to shreds. It’s not my division so I don’t know exactly what it could be.” She exclaimed one day, “The chest was torn open and the ears were ripped off. That was it. It wasn’t like it was mauled or anything. It almost seemed deliberate. I don’t know, it sounds crazy right?” “No, no, not weird at all,” you remember saying while in your mind going “No, no, can’t be, we killed this thing last spring!” If you were guessing correctly it was a Gray Guatemalan Iguana. Only one in the universe and last year it killed more than eighty small pets, wild animals, and children; always eating their right lung and their ears. “Hey, do you think I could see it sometime? Where it happened I mean. Cause Grace likes to go for runs over there I think. It would make me more comfortable if I could check it out to make sure it’s safe.” you were astonished how easily lying came to you still. “Sure I’ll take you over tomorrow.” Danielle winked at you as she got up. {~} The next day was your day off, which you normally spent partially naked, partially covered in food crumbs watching awful soap operas on the couch. Instead you put on leggings, a nice t-shirt with a black windbreaker and some rainboots. When Danny showed up to take you to a more suburban neighborhood you were ready for anything; you had slipped a kitchen knife into your waistband and had a can of pepper spray in your pocket, not that the pepper spray would help anything against this animal. You also dug up one of your old FBI badges for good luck. You pulled up to a picture perfect street with picket fenced houses and minivan-washing dads forty minutes later. Not a lot of people were out, most were inside after the raccoon attack probably. The closer you got the more the yellow crime scene tape came into focus. Danny jumped out of the car and ran to the edge with you on her heels. “What happened?” Danny exclaimed to a policeman when we got to the edge of the tape. “I’m sorry, miss. I can’t disclose any vital information this early into the investigation.” He said in a monotone voice. “She was the exterminator for the attack on the raccoon yesterday,” You stated with authority peering around the man to get a look at the crime scene, “This child,” You continued gesturing to the small body bag and outline of a small body on the pavement, “was it missing its ears? With the chest ripped open?” The policeman stared at you with an open mouth. He turned and waved over a slightly older policeman. “Chief Hamilton, how do you do, ladies?” He stuck out his hand once he had gotten close enough. “I’m Nancy Bobofit and this is Danielle, the exterminator from yesterday. I was wondering if the child killed today was missing their ears and had a ripped open chest.” Chief Hamilton had a similar reaction to the first policeman and you looked at Danny smugly. “Yes,” He replied finally, “How did you know that?” “There was a raccoon in this neighborhood that had the same afflictions. We think they may be connected. How old was the child?” “Um, 10.” “10?” You were surprised. The iguana only killed infants and toddlers, the only things small enough. “Yes. Listen, thank you for the information but I cannot share anymore with you.” He turned and started walking away. “Chief!” You called before turned to Danny and muttering, “I’ll explain what’s about to happen later. Promise.” “Yes?” Chief Hamilton asked, sounding slightly annoyed. “I am here to help you in this investigation.” You stated. “I am sorry. It is policy that civilians do not help-” He was cut off by your badge flashing up and exposing an FBI I.D.. “Nancy Bobofit, FBI.” You said, I’m sorry I should’ve introduced myself formally earlier.” Without a word Chief Hamilton lifted the tape and allowed you to pass under. You motioned for Danny to follow and she did, with wide eyes. Dean “You know what Dean? You are just selfish!” Sam shouted at him. “Me? Selfish? Are you joking?” Dean shouted right back. “No! You told Y/N to leave just because I got hurt on a hunt. It wasn’t her fault but you refused to allow that it was yours! That would qualify as selfishness Dean!” Sam retorted without noticing the pain enter Dean’s face as soon as your name was mentioned. “Oh Dean- I-I’m sorry- I didn’t mean to- it just…slipped,” Sam stammered finally noticing Dean’s face. “I didn’t tell her to leave because you got hurt, Sam. I mean, I did…just not for why you think.” His voice was rough and raw. “Then why did you?” Sam asked gently. “When you got hurt I realized how much danger Y/N was in, even when we were there.” “So…you told her that you hated her, her guts and everything about her and that you never wanted to see her again…to keep her safe?” Sam’s tone was slightly colored with disbelief. Hearing the words Dean had growled at you ten months ago almost verbatim was like getting kicked in the chest. “That was the idea.” When Sam started to speak Dean continued, “I was desperate. I knew she’d want to finish the job and I knew she’d fight me if I asked her to leave. You know how stubborn Y/N was.” “Ok, Dean, whatever,” Sam threw his hands up, completely disapproving Dean’s reasoning, “I’m going to bed.” The next morning the boys were ready to get out of the tiny town in Rhode Island. “Got anything?” Dean asked Sam over the table. Sam glanced up from the newspaper. “Yeah…” He turned the paper so that they could both see, “A raccoon dead in the street one day and a ten year old the next.” “I don’t know man, that doesn’t sound up our alley.” “Both missing their ears and right lung.” “Like the iguana from last year?” “Exactly.” “Where?” “Kensington, New York. Nice and close.” “Let’s get going then.” They rolled up the street just before the sun started its descent from the sky. Both in suits with their FBI badges in hand they parked Baby and approached the yellow tape. “Follow my lead,” Dean said to his brother as they got closer. “Can I help you men?” The policeman asked skeptically as they approached. “I think so,” Dean started, both boys flipped their badges up to show him, “Agents Christopher and Dawson, FBI.” “Two more?” The policeman asked in disbelief. “Excuse me?” Sam asked. “We already have an agent on site. This didn’t seem like that big of a case.” “Yes, well, we suspect it to be a sadistic murderer. Obviously it isn’t 100% yet but…” Dean said, recovering quickly. He shot a look at Sam, it could be trouble. “Really? Well the other agent is in the tent,” The policeman motioned to a white canopy set up half on the street half on someone’s yard, “She got here a couple hours ago and it doesn’t look like she’s going to leave anytime soon.” Sam’s eyebrows shot up. She? Just as they both shifted their attention over to the opening of the tent, you walked out, head bent over a folder with dozens of files, whispering urgently to the policeman next to you. Danny followed after seeming worried. Dean pulled in a breath, like he had been punched, as soon as he recognized you. Sam suddenly grinned from ear to ear, his eyes lit up like it was Christmas morning. He ducked under the police tape and made a beeline for you. Dean was left dazed and slightly angry. “Christopher,” Sam called to him. Y/N “I want patrol down these four streets,” you pointed out the four surrounding streets to Officer McCinley as you spoke, “And at least two men stationed on this street at all times.” “Will do ma’am.” He said taking the map from you. You turned to Danny, ready to apologize for dragging her into this. Only rather than looking dreary and sad like she had earlier she was grinning and twirling her hair. Was she biting her lip? You spun to see what could make her put her flirting face on. You had to do a double take. Sam strode toward you with a huge smile on his face. He was wearing a suit and a long coat, obviously here to check out the case. Emotions ripped through you, happiness, longing, doubt, sadness, joy, anger, most of them you couldn’t understand. That is, until you saw Dean standing behind the tape. You knew Sam wouldn’t have come alone. “Hey!” Sam said once he got close enough. “Hey to you too.” He pulled you in for a hug and you hugged back. “Have you grown?” You asked once he let you go. “Ha! Not quite. I think your shrinking.” He couldn’t stop grinning. Eventually a smile crept onto your face as well. Having him by your side was comforting. “Oh!” You realized after a minute that you were staring at each other, “This is Danny. Danny this is Sam.” “Nice to meet you,” Danny flirted extending her hand, “How do you know each other…exactly?” “Um, long story, but I’ll explain later.” You promised, leading them both into the tent. “Yeah, looks like you have a lot of explaining to do, Nancy,” Danny she spoke under her breath as you passed by. “What have you found out?” Sam asked the second you were inside the deserted tent. “Not much. Missing ears and right lung, as I’m sure you already know. No footprints, no fingerprints, no witnesses. Basically a dead end for the feds. Only two victims and I have them patrolling five of the streets around here. Couldn’t exactly tell them to keep an eye out for a ten foot lizard though, could I?” “What about sulfur? I mean it could be a set-up to get someone’s–our–attention.” “No. No sulfur, no EMF, no anything.” “So you’re thinking…?” “I’m not quite sure. I mean it’s supernatural, right? So that means we should be here. I guess the most likely thing is that iguana but we killed it last May. All the signs are matching up though.” “Huh.” “Huh what?” Dean said ducking into the tent. He seemed a bit overly confident. You struggled to maintain a calm face even though your insides were on fire. “You missed it now, we already went through it all. Where were you anyway?” You couldn’t hide your grin as Sam snapped at his brother. “Looking around,” Dean said, “You might want to have your boyfriends out there check the trees, Y/N.” “No.” You said feeling very angry, “You don’t get to talk to me like that.” After a second of what you imagined was an awkward silence for the others, while you collected yourself, you continued. “I did. It’s a dead end. The scratch marks match a dog down the street perfectly.” “Oh.” Was all he could manage. You led them all out to where the body was found. You all stood there, looking around. Suddenly you noticed a crack in the storm drain down the street. You made your way over to it cautiously. When you reached it you saw that there was a section missing from the back and blood smeared on the inside of each bar. You glanced back to the others. Dean was missing but Sam was watching you while Danny was looking the other way. You tapped the blood with your fingertip. Still wet. You got up and went back to them. As you drew closer, you noticed Dean walking toward them. You flipped your hand to show them the blood, not a second later Dean did the same. Both of your fingers were stained red. You cocked your eyebrow as you held eye contact with him. He nodded and you both made your way to the tent. {~} Sam had walked away, obviously noticing Dean’s often glances toward you. He clearly wanted to talk. You, on the other hand, nearly grabbed Sam’s leg as he was walking away so he would be forced to stay. “I know you think I’m an awful human being,” Dean started. He was on the right track…sort of. Was he really though? Because when you had left, you were sad and angry. But now? Now you saw his candy green eyes and the way his jaw muscles tensed and relaxed out of habit, all you wanted to do was make him a pie–or something like that, maybe give him a hug. “I know what I said to you was way over the line, that I was wrong in a hundred different ways. Because I was. You are the best hunter I know, the person for that matter. And I don’t expect you to forgive me, just to hear. I am sorry. I really, really am. And I thought I was doing the right thing by forcing you to leave; I thought I was protecting-” “Dean.” I cut him off. “You’re right. I’m not going to forgive you but I believe you. It’s not like you’re perfect or anything, no one is… The thing is, I was heartbroken. Loosing my two best friends, loosing my adopted family, was worse than dying; and I can’t risk going through that again. After we kill this thing–which we will–I can’t see you guys anymore… I can’t tell Sam. I won’t go through with it, so you have to tell him. But I’m not mad at you.” He stood there, stunned at me. I couldn’t blame him. Did any of that even make sense? My head pounded and my heart ached. For a moment it felt like the world around me shattered once more. But then I reminded myself that it was for the better. And I would make it. Dean nodded and walked past me to join his brother in Baby. I realized that maybe I had been heartbroken in more ways than one. As he walked away I got an insane urge to stop him. To run to him and kiss him. I wondered what his lips tasted like. In years before I’d seen him with other girls at bars and I’d pitied them, yet here I was, wishing I might be like them. But it was crazy; it would only end in pain. Why would I put myself through that? He’d already hurt me once, why would I give him the power to do it again. {~} The three of you climbed out of you respective cars and walked back to where Dean was popping Baby’s trunk. This evenings events were completely put out of all your minds, for there was a larger task at hand. He handed you a matchbook and a silver knife. The only thing that could possibly kill this thing was “the blood of a servant lit on fire”. The Winchesters had the brilliant idea that you were considered a servant because you were a waitress. Dean walked over to his position, hidden in some bushes, while Sam strode over to squat behind a tree. You, on the other hand, got to sit yourself in the center of the street. You had called off patrol when three nights passed without incident; and you were grateful that you didn’t have to worry about a cop finding the three of you hunting a giant lizard. You pricked your finger on the knife, releasing all kinds of bloody odors to attract the iguana, and wiped the blood all over the pavement around you. {~} It was organized chaos as Sam and Dean shot and threw things at the iguana. You slit your forearm open, pooled some in your hand and threw it. Thankfully, it landed square on its back, allowing you to strike a match and set it on fire within seconds. The light from the growing flame was enough for you to find the self inflicted wound and put pressure on it. God it stung. The iguana screeched and whined as it burned to death, eventually making its way to hell, hopefully. Without a word, Dean and Sam allowed you to climb into your own car. It had been part of your deal that you never had to see them again. Sam seemed like he was going to start crying, or punching something; in the moment it looked like it was going to be Dean that got punched. Meanwhile, Dean looked like he was just told that they changed the shape of the fries at a restaurant he’d never been to–in other words, completely and totally bored. You meant to drive yourself to the hospital, to claim a false kitchen accident, but instead you ended up at a Motel 6. There was one room open and you gladly filled it. Once inside you quickly found whiskey, floss and a needle to stitch up the cut. After a few glasses of the alcohol, you slid into the bed and drifted off; you weren’t about to start complaining about a good night’s sleep, that is, until a knock came at the door. You groaned before rolling off the bed and answering. Since you were still half asleep you didn’t recognize the man before you for a few seconds. Then he choked out your name. {~} Dean charged you, swinging the door shut behind him and wrapping his arms around you in one swift motion. His lip enveloped yours, his fingers grabbed fabric and skin wherever they could, a desperate dance. Soon your fingers were laced through his hair, your lips molding to his. All you could taste was beer and bacon. Something in the very back of your mind told you he could taste the whiskey on your lips. He pushed you deeper into the room, quickly locating the bed, picking you up, and setting you down on the hard comforter. Your lips never parted and you never wanted them to. Then your hands found the hem of Dean’s shirt and the only thing you wanted was to get it off of him. He knew what you wanted and stepped back half a centimeter to slid it off. When he returned to you, he planted his lips firmly to left of your mouth where he kissed down your neck, to your collarbone, until your shirt got in the way. Without waiting for you to pull it off as you had for him, he grabbed the bottom and yanked it over your head, pulling out your hair clip in the process. The two of you shed your pants before rolling onto the bed. The sheets were cold compared to your hot bodies. Dean flipped you under him and held onto your wrist. As Dean’s other hand cupped your head to kiss you again you knew that whatever had happened before could be worked out, because right now was worth all of the pain.