#supernatural Pittsburgh

[babyblue-mind]

mixed fandom doodles

[jejciu]

Wanting to talk about midground but not knowing what exactly I wanna say. It would be so much easier if I was posting it online while I was writing it but now it's too late. If I published it in any way it would get called a stranger things rip off. The other day I saw some post randomly about how that angel guy from chainsaw head man anime also kills with touch (I think?). Also like earlier this year I randomly found out some adult cartoon came out about like exorcists in Manila. What are the odds!!! I feel like at this point nothing in midground is original. It's awful bc like how do I prove that I came up with this or that idea way before whichever show came out. I can't!!! I'd forever feel like a scammer. I know that were living in a time when we get to see more content, written or filmed or drawn than at any other point in the existence of the world and that's why I'm being hit with this realization that nothing I write is original or fresh or new but like my god. I still feel so guilty.

[paintingdragonfeathers]

Hey there peeps! Painting Dragon Feathers is back from Otakon, and we’re already gearing up for Momentocon this weekend in Pittsburgh!

Due to Otakon having record-breaking sales, Koroks, Turtleducks, and Sky Bison terrariums are completely out of stock, and Poke’ball stock is limited.

To compensate for the stellar people of Momentocon, I will be expanding my commission queue and accepting custom orders at the show.

Stay tuned for some other exciting announcements from Painting Dragon Feathers after Momentocon wraps up.

[roach-works]

something about the discourse on if fanfiction is Good or not has bugged me for years and i think i finally put my finger on why: even if reading and writing fanfiction is bad for women-- because let’s not pretend all these judgements don’t hinge on whether or not women are having fun in the wrong way--it’s a voluntary activity that people enjoy doing, and that should be that.

fanfic degrades your morals-- cool so does football. look at the way football players and football fans behave. when’s the last time supernatural fans set pittsburgh on fire, or tore up a strip club, or assaulted flight attendants? fuck, it would be cool if fanfic was on the level of literally any national sport.

fanfic lures you into sexual activity you might not otherwise have engaged in-- so does dancing and drinking and especially drinking and dancing, activities women are also warned against but have enjoyed anyway for thousands of fucking years.

fanfic is a waste of time when you could be reading or writing Literature-- almost no one does that anyway! like, if this is your beef you’re not allowed to turn on the TV until you finish Wuthering Heights. meanwhile the rest of us are going to do things that are easy and fun, because humans like doing things that are easy and fun.

fanfic is masturbatory-- masturbation is actually healthy and good for you if you care to partake in it. it reduces stress, improves your mood, and acquaints you with your body’s likes and dislikes. isn’t it suspicious that this is something women are also not supposed to be doing?

IN CONCLUSION i don’t care if fanfiction is good for you and neither should you. i don’t care about the latest thinkpiece that argues that fanfiction is intelligent, sophisticated, analytical, healing, creative, revolutionary.

i care that hundreds of thousands of women like it.

because that’s enough.

[greatunironic]

title: REAL HEAVY METAL SHIT summary: It’s 1990, and Ed Levy is (not) writing his sophomore album. (a most remarkable thing timestamp)

EXCERPT He’d been no one, then — less than no one, actually, when you got down to the brass fuckin’ tacks of it: he was a half fake boy, it felt like most days. He himself was real, alive, but that was just the blood in his veins, the breath in his lungs. Everything else? His name, his back story, the reasons why he came to Seattle from Pittsburgh? All carefully fabricated half-truths and government-approved tall tales. Eddie Munson had become, for better or worse, Ed Levy, a sleight of hand person.

He had a hard time reconciling that. He had a hard time accepting that this was his life, now, and that he was allowed to live it. Really, man, who’d’ve thought it? Certainly not the pearl clutching, bible-thumping, Abigail Williamses of Hawkins, who cast him as Goody Proctor in their own little fucked up, supernatural Crucible, you know? Not the people who had rolled their eyes at him, before, and started to cross the street to avoid him, after. Not even his own friends, his old band, who’d dropped him for their own safety — which! He got it! He did! Just — just hurt, you know? Anyway you cut it: it hurt.

[brokehorrorfan]

Following a successful collaboration on 2020's The Living Dead, author Daniel Kraus (Whalefall, The Shape of Water) has re-teamed with Geroge A. Romero's estate to complete another unfinished manuscript by the late master of horror.

Pay the Piper will be published in paperback and e-book on September 3 via Union Square & Co. The 328-page novel is said to be a terrifying tale of supernatural horror set in a cursed Louisiana bayou.

In 2019, while sifting through University of Pittsburgh Library’s System’s George A. Romero Archival Collection, novelist Daniel Kraus turned up a surprise: a half-finished novel called Pay the Piper, a project few had ever heard of. In the years since, Kraus has worked with Romero’s estate to bring this unfinished masterwork to light. Alligator Point, Louisiana, population 141: Young Renée Pontiac has heard stories of “the Piper”—a murderous swamp entity haunting the bayou—her entire life. But now the legend feels horrifically real: children are being taken and gruesomely slain. To resist, Pontiac and the town’s desperate denizens will need to acknowledge the sins of their ancestors—the infamous slave traders, the Pirates Lafitte. If they don’t... it’s time to pay the piper.

Pre-order Pay the Piper by George A. Romero & Daniel Kraus.

[materialsscienceandengineering]

Maxwell's Demon

Originally proposed in 1867 by James Clerk Maxwell, Maxwell's Demon is a thought experiment on disproving the second law of thermodynamics. Though the experiment has undergone several iterations since its original proposal the idea is that molecules are moved individually (by a theoretical tiny demon in most iterations) in a direction opposite the natural flow (from cold to hot, or taking a system at equilibrium and splitting it between fast and slow molecules). The theoretical demon, or lever, or mechanism to do so, does not use work in the process, therefore violating the laws of thermodynamics.

Maxwell only originally discussed a 'finite being'; Lord Kelvin would be the first to call the theoretical creature a demon, though his usage of the word was not necessarily meant to imply the current Christian depiction, only a being of supernatural power. For the most part, most scientists agree that there is no practical, real device capable of enacting the work of Maxwell's demon and violating the second law.

Sources/Further Reading: (Image source - University of Pittsburgh) (Auburn) (Berkeley Lab) (ScienceABC) (Wikipedia)

[dial-p-for-placey]

Posting the series of Supernatural portraits I made for Momento Con in Pittsburgh, PA next weekend (Aug 5th to Aug 6th)! My booth will be close to the food/concessions if you want to grab one!!

I'll be posting the others throughout the week!

[thispunforhire]

For as much as people talk about the variety of shows that get produced in the streaming era, I think they undervalue the kind of weird and (to a modern eye) unmarketable stuff that got made in the 80s and 90s.

You could make a 30 minute workplace sitcom written and directed by the creator of "Escape: The Piña Colada Song" set at a Pittsburgh radio station during the 1940s.* It would run for 4 seasons.

You could make an hour-long supernatural comedy-drama about a man (Kyle Chandler) who starts receiving the newspaper a day ahead of time and uses his foreknowledge to change the future for the better.** It would run for 4 seasons.

In the excitement following the wild success of Raiders of the Lost Ark, you could make a show in the mold of the old adventure serials, about a 1930s seaplane pilot in the South Pacific.*** It would run one season but the concept would get ripped off to make Talespin, another unbelievable concept on its own. (You know the bear from Jungle Book? He flies a plane, and King Louis runs a Casablanca-style cabaret.)

*Remember WENN

**Early Edition

*** Tales of the Gold Monkey

[layce2015]

Supernatural (Dean Winchester x Female!Reader)

Dream A Little Dream Of Me

Masterlist

I walk in a bar and found Sam sitting there, drinking. This took me by surprise as he rarely does this so I walk up to him. "There you are. What are you doing?" I asked him, relieved, as Sam turns to me. "Having a drink." He replied. "It's 2 in the afternoon. Drinking whiskey?" I said.

"I drink whiskey all the time." he grumbles. "No, you don't." I said and he turns to me. "What's the big deal? You and Dean get sloppy in bars, and both of you would hit on people all the time before enough two got together. Why can't I?" Sam snapped and I was taken aback by this.

"What's going on with you?" I asked him, worried, and Sam shakes his head, and doesn't say anything for a few moments. He looks completely lost. "I tried, (y/n)." he mutters and I give him a confused look. "To do what?" I asked him. "To save Dean." He replied and I look down, let out a heavy sigh then take the seat next to him. 

"Could I get a whiskey, double, neat." I said to the bartender and Sam turns to me. "I'm serious, (y/n)." He said. "No, you're drunk." I remarked. "I mean, where Dean's going...what he's gonna become. I can't stop it and neither can you." He said, looking close to tears. "I'm starting to think maybe even Ruby can't stop it. But really, the thing is, no one can save Dean." Sam said and I frown.

"Well, he has been telling us that." I said. "No, that's not what I mean. I mean, no one can save him because he doesn't wanna be saved. I mean, how can Dean care so little about himself." Sam said and I shrug. "I don't know. I wish I knew." I said just as my phone rings.

"Hello?" I answered. "(Y/n), did you find him?" Dean's voice asked. "Yeah, I found him at the bar." I said and Sam looks over at me. "Good, I need you guys to come back now." Dean said, in a panicked voice. "What's wrong?" I asked. "It's Bobby..." he replied and my eyes widen in fear.

Later, we were at the hospital to see Bobby lying in his bed. "So, what's the diagnosis?" Sam asked the doctor. "We've tested everything we can think to test. He seems perfectly healthy." The doctor said. "Except that he's comatose." Dean growls as I give a look of sadness to Bobby.

"Mr. Sniderson, you're his emergency contact. Anything we should know? Any illnesses?" the doctor asked Dean. "No, he-he never gets sick. I mean, he doesn't even catch cold." Dean replied.

"Doctor, is there anything you can do?" I asked the doctor. "Look, I'm sorry, but we don't know what's causing it...so we don't know how to treat it. He just...went to sleep, and didn't wake up." He said and the boys and I share a look and then we look over at Bobby.

We make our way to the motel Bobby was staying at and enter the room. "So, what was Bobby doing in Pittsburgh?" Sam asked. "Unless he's taking an extremely lame vacation..." Dean said as he closes the door and we walk into the center of the room.

"I mean, he must have been working a job, right? They continue to walk around the room." Sam said. "Well, you think there'd be some sort of sign of something, you know?" I said as Sam opens a drawer, but it's empty. Dean and I do the same, and that too is empty. The room looks completely clean.

"Research, news clippings..." I said as Sam turns to the closet. "Or a frigging pizza box or a beer can." Dean said as he walks away from the dresser he was looking in, and Sam walks over to the closet. "How 'bout this?" Sam said and we walk over to him as he moves the clothes out of the way and on the wall behind them hangs all of the news clippings, maps and pictures we were looking for.

There's pictures of roots, mushrooms, seeds and a map where Bobby has written Pittsburgh in big letters and underlined it. There's postists with adresses and numbers. There's a piece of paper about a plant.

"Good old Bobby, always covering up his tracks." Dean chuckles. "You guys make heads or tails of any of this?" Sam asked and Dean takes one of the papers about a plant and reads the title of it. "Silene capensis, which of course means absolutely nothing to me." Dean said and I noticed a newspaper clipping. "Here." I said as I take a newspaper clipping and skim over it. 

"Dr. Walter Gregg, 64, university neurologist." I read. "How'd he bit it?" Dean asked me. "Um...actually, they don't know. They say he just went to sleep and didn't wake up." I said and Dean takes the clipping from me, reading it himself. "That sound familiar to you guys?" Dean asked.

"Alright, um...So let's say Bobby was looking into the doc's death. You know, hunting after something--" Sam started to explain and Dean looks up at him. "That started hunting him." He finished and Sam nods. "Alright, Sam  stay here. See if you can make heads or tails of this." Dean said as he points to the closet. "(Y/n), come with me." He said and I nod.

"What are you gonna do?" Sam asked him. "Look into the good Doctor myself." Dean said as he walks to the door. Sam and I share a look before I shrug then follow Dean out 

"So you're Dr. Gregg's lab assistant?" I asked the woman, Miss Sanders, as we walked into the office, which was cluttered with books and boxes. "That's right." she replied. "Well, his death must have come as a shock to you." said Dean. "Yeah, it did." she replied as Dean and I look around the office, while Sanders stands behind us.

"But, still, go in your sleep, peacefully...That's what you wish for, right?" she asked as we look over at her. "Yeah. Right." Dean mutters as I look at a book on the Doctor's desk. "Dr. Gregg uh...studied sleeping disorders?" I asked her as I pick up the book and hold it up for Sanders. "Dreams?" I said, questioning, as Sanders looks at me, confused.

"I don't understand. I went over all of this with the other Detective." she said as I put down the book and Dean and I look at her, curious. "You already spoke to another Detective?" Dean asked. "Yes. A very nice older man with a beard." She replied and Dean and I share a quick glance before I turn to her. "Well, we'd love to hear it again if you don't mind." I said and she looks between us.

"Thing is, I'm sort of busy. Maybe we could do this later?" she said and Dean and I share a look before Dean shrugs.

"Sure. Yeah. Just bring you down to the station later this afternoon." he said and her face falls. "Get your statement on tape, do it all official-like." said Dean and Sanders sighs. 

"Look, okay, I didn't know about Dr. Gregg's experiments. Not until I was cleaning out his files." she said, which took me aback. "His experiments, uh...? The ones he was conducting on sleeping?" I asked her. "No one knew, okay? Not the university, not anybody. I already spoke with a Lawyer and he told me I can't be held liable for anything." She replied.

"Maybe you couldn't, but that was before the new evidence came to light." Dean said and Sanders furrows her brow. "New evidence? What new evidence?" She asked. "We're not at liberty to say." Dean said and Sanders sighs. 

"Look, I'm just a grad student, this was a gig to cover tuition." she said. "Maybe so. But, uh, still this...this could go on your permanent record. Unless you hand over the Doctor's research to us. All of it." Dean said to her

"Look, I don't know what the RA said, but, ah, I was growing ferns." Jeremy said as we walk into his home. "Take it easy, Phish, that's not why we're here." Dean scoffs. "Really? Oh, thank God. Okay." Jeremy said, relieved, while i hold up the file in my hand.

"We wanna talk to you about Dr. Gregg's sleep study." I said and Jeremy nods. "Yeah. Dr. Gregg just died, right?" He said and we nod. "You were one of his test subjects, right?" Dean asked him. "Yeah." Jeremy said as he opens his fridge and takes out three beers. He holds them up a bit, motioning as a question. He then holds two out to me and Dean.

"Unless you two are on duty or whatever?" Jeremy asked and Dean and I share a look before Dean looks to the door for a second, and then decides to go for the beer. "I guess I can make an exception." Dean said as he takes the bottle.

Jeremy holds out the other bottle to me and I shake my head. "I'm good, thanks." I said. Jeremy nods then sets the bottle down and grabs the bottle opener. He opens his bottle as Dean opens his. They hold up their beers to each other and then take a swig.

"Now, Dr. Gregg was testing treatments for a, uh, "Charcot-Wilbrand syndrome? Which means...?" I said, continuing the interview, while Dean was enjoying his beer. "Um..I, uh..I can't dream." He said and I give him a confused look. "I had this bike accident when I was a kid and banged my head pretty good and I haven't had a dream since. Till the study. You know. Sort of." He explains.

"What'd the doc give you?" Dean asked. "It's this yellow tea. It..it smelled awful, tasted worse." Jeremy replied. "What did it do?" I asked. "Just passed right out. And uh, I had the most vivid, super-intense dream. Like a bad acid trip, you know?" He said and Dean chuckles while I shake my head. "Totally." He mutters and I elbow him in his arm then he clears his throat.

"I mean, no." He said, firmly. "That was it. I dropped out of the study right after that. I didn't...like it. To tell you the truth...it kind of scared me." Jeremy said and Dean and I look at him, thoughtful.

Dean and I were sitting by Bobby's bed, watching for any sign of him waking up. I let out a heavy sigh then lean my head against Dean's shoulder. He takes my hand in his and goes to kiss the top of my head then leans against mine.

Sam enters a few minutes later and we raise our head then turn around to look at him. We share a look before Sam walks further into the room. "How is he?" Sam asked and Dean rubs his hand over his chin as he turns back to Bobby. Sam walks to stand by the foot of the bed, with files in his hand.

"No change." Dean said as I nod towards the files. "What you got?" I asked him then Dean and I get up and walk over to Sam, to see what he brought with him.

"Well, considering what you guys told me about the doc's experiments...Bobby's wall is starting to make a hell of a lot more sense." He explains. "How so?" Dean asked and Sam holds up a picture of a plant from the folder. "This plant, Silene capensis, is also known as African Dream Root. It's been used by shaman and medicine men for centuries." He said and I sigh a bit. 

"Let me guess. They dose up, bust out didjeridus, start kicking around the hackey." I said and Sam slightly shakes his head. "Not quite. If you believe the legends, it's used for dreamwalking. I mean, entering another person's dreams, poking around in their heads." He said. "I take it we believe the legends." Dean said and all three of us share a look. "When don't we? But dreamwalking is just the tip of the iceberg." Sam said and he picks up a paper from the folder that contains info on the root and a drawing of it.

"What do you mean?" I asked him. "I mean, this Dream Root is some serious mojo. You take enough of it, with practice, you can become a regular Freddy Krueger. You can control anything. You could turn bad dreams good, you could turn good dreams bad." He said and all of us look at Bobby for a moment then back at each other. 

"And killing people in their sleep?" Dean asked and Sam nods. "For example. So let's say uh, let's say this doc was testing this stuff on his patients, Tim Leary-style." Sam explains. "Somebody gets pissed at him, decides to give him a little dream visit, he goes nighty-night." I said. "What about Bobby? I mean, if the killer came after him, how come he's still alive?" Sam asked. "Don't know." Dean and I said as we look back at Bobby, sadly.

"So how do we find our homicidal sandman?" Dean asked Sam as we walk out of Bobby's room. "Could be anyone." Sam said. "Yeah?" Dean and I said. "Yeah." Sam said. "Anyone who knew the Doctor and had access to his dream shrooms." I said. "Maybe one of his test subjects or something?" Sam asked. "Possible. But his research was pretty sketchy. I mean...I don't know how many subjects he had or who all of them were." Dean said and Sam scoffs.

"What?" I asked him and Sam sighs, loudly. "Any other case, we'd be calling Bobby and asking him for help right now." Sam said and Dean looks like he just thought of something. He grabs us by our arms to stop us and he looks up at us.

"You know what, Sam? You're right." he said. "What?" Sam and I said, confused. "Let's go talk to him." Dean said and I raise an eyebrow at this. "Sure, I think we might find the conversation a bit one-sided." Sam said, confused. "Not if we're tripping on some Dream Root." said Dean.

"What?" We said.

"You heard me." Dean said to us. "You wanna go dreamwalking inside Bobby's head?" I asked him. "Yeah. Why not? Maybe we could help." Dean said "We have no idea what's crawling around in there." I said.

"How bad could it be?" Dean asked. "Bad." Sam and I said in unison. "Guys, it's Bobby." Dean said, looking between us, and I sigh. "Yeah, you're right." Sam scoffs. "One problem though. We're fresh out of African Dream Root, so unless you know someone who can score some it..." I said and Dean thinks for a moment then rolls his eyes.

"Crap." he mutters.

"What?" Sam asked.

"Bela." Dean said.

"Bela?" Sam and I said then I realized what he was meaning. "Crap." I growled as Sam rolls his eyes. "You're actually suggesting we ask her a favor?" Sam asked Dean. "I'm feeling dirty just thinking about it, but yeah." Dean said and I scoff. "Just great." I muttered.

Dean and I were sitting in a motel room, looking through the files and waiting for Bela, while Sam had fallen asleep on a nearby desk. Dean and I just went over the notes when we hear a Sam making noises in his sleep, like happy moaning noises.

Dean and I exchange a look before Dean calls out to Sam. "Sam! Wake up." Dean shouts and Sam sits up then he wipes his face with his arm. "Dude, you were out. Making some serious happy noises." Dean said while Sam still has his back to us.

"Who were you dreaming about?" I asked him, smirking. "What? No one. Nothing." Sam stammers. "Come on, you can tell us. Angelina Jolie?" I asked. "No." Sam said. "Brad Pitt?" Dean asked and I snorted at this while Sam turns around, almost looking at us. "No. No. Dude, it doesn't matter." He said and I shake my head. "Whatever." Dean and I muttered as Sam mutters under his breath.

"I called Bela." Dean said and Sam sits there. "Bela? Yeah? She-What'd she...you know, say? She...gonna...help us?" He stammers, quickly. "Shockingly, no, which puts us back to square one." Dean grumbles.

"We've been trying to decipher the Doctor's notes. Unfortunately, he has worse handwriting than you do." I said to Sam. "You gonna come help us with this stuff?" Dean asked as we look over at Sam as he was still in his chair. Sam looks around and then down, still keeping his back to us. "Yeah, yeah. Just give me a sec." He said as he moves around a bit in his seat, moving his hands around.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door and we turn in its direction. Sam stays in his chair as Dean gets up to open the door. Dean opens the door just inches, looks annoyed and opens up the door, walking with it. "Bela. As I live and breathe." He said as Bela enters, wearing a trenchcoat.

"You called me. Remember?" She said. "I remember you turning me down." Dean said and she smirks. "Well, I'm just full of surprises." she said and I roll my eyes. "You're full of something." I muttered. "I'm sorry?" Bela asked and I look up at her and give her a fake smile. "Nothing." I said.

"Hey, Bela. What's going on?" Sam asked and I furrow my brow at him.

"I brought you your African Dream Root." She said as she hands over a jar of it to Dean. "Nasty stuff, and not easy to come by." she said as she puts her bag on the TV and goes to open her coat. "Why the sudden change of heart?" I asked her. "What? I can't do you a little favor every now and again?" She asked me. "No, you can't. Come on, I wanna know what the strings are before you attach them." Dean said as Bela takes off her coat and sets it aside.

"You said this was for Bobby Singer, right?" she asked him and Dean nods. "Well, I'm doing it for him. Not you." She replied. "Bobby? Why?" I asked, suspiciously. "He saved my life once. In Flagstaff." She replied and Dean throws a look my way then Sam's way, both of us just shrug. He looks back at her, still not responding to her statement.

"I screwed up and he saved me, okay? You satisfied?" she shouts. "Maybe." said Dean as She looks at him, who's now looking at the jar, and at Sam.

"So when do we go on this little magical mystery tour?" She asked and I stand up. "Oh, you're not going anywhere. I don't trust you enough to let you in my car, much less Bobby's head. No offense." Dean said as he walks over to the closet. He turns on the lights and opens up the safe, where the Colt is, and he puts in the jar of Dream Root with it. Bela, Sam and I watch him.

"None taken." Bela said as Dean closes the safe, locking it. He walks into the room again, where Bela is looking a bit annoyed now. "It's 2 am. Where am I supposed to go?" She asked.

"Get a room. Ah, they got the Magic Fingers, a little Casa Erotica on pay-per-view. You'll love it." I said to her and she glares at me. "You..." She growls and she takes her bag in a huff and walks to the door, retreiving her coat on the way. Sam jumps out of his chair calling after her. "Nice to see-.. Seeing you..." Sam exclaims as she slams the door behind her, ignoring him. "Bela." He mutters while Dean and I turn to Sam, a bit confused.

*3rd Person POV*

Sam walks over to the beds with three glass cups of the liquid containing the Dream Root. Dean and (y/n) were sitting on the bed, waiting for him. As Sam comes over, he hands Dean one of the cups and (y/n) the other cup and then sits down on the other bed.

"Uh, should we dim the lights and synch up Wizard of Oz to Dark Side of the Moon?" (y/n) asked. Dean snorts while Sam looks over at her, with a smile. "Why?" he asked and (y/n) looks at him, disappointed. "What did you do during college?" She asked him and Sam looks at her with his usual huh reaction to such questions.

(y/n) rolls her eyes as Dean goes to drink the liquid but Sam stops him. "Wait, wait, wait. Can't forget this." Sam said. Dean puts down the cup and looks over at him as he pulls out a little brown envelope from his shirt pocket. He pulls something out and as Dean and (y/n) reach out their hands, Sam puts it in it.

"Here." he said as the two look at the object. "What the hell is that?" Dean asked Sam. "Bobby's hair." Sam replied and Dean and (y/n) gives him a disgusted look. "We have to drink Bobby's hair?" (Y/n) asked, repulsed. "That's how you control whose dream you're entering. You gotta drink some of their uh...Some of their body." Sam explained and (y/n) crinkled her nose.

"Well, guess the hair of the dog is better than other parts of the body." Dean remarks and they put the hair in and Sam exhales, getting ready to drink what seems to be a very disgusting drink. They raise their cups a bit. "Bottoms up, boys." (Y/n) said to them. "Yeah." Sam and Dean said and they put their cups together in a toast and then drink it all up.

The three of them grunt, trying to swallow, which seems to be a little hard. They smack their mouths a bit, due to the awful  taste. They look quite disgusted and nothing seemed to have changed.

"Feel anything?" Dean asked and Sam shakes his head. "No. You feel anything?" (y/n) asked Dean as she looks over at him then he shakes his head a little. "No." He said and he holds up the cup and looks in it. "Maybe we got some bad shwag." Dean said when they hear thunder from outside and rain pattering on the window. Sam looks over, a little confused.

"Hey, when did it start raining?" he asked as Dean and (y/n) look over at the window as well. Dean gets up and starts walking to the window, that's covered with white curtains. As he comes up to it, he pulls the curtains apart to look outside, and sees that the rain is actually not coming from the sky, but from the ground.

"When did it start raining upside down?" He asked then he turns around to Sam and (y/n) and sees that they're now standing in the a house. They look around a bit and see that the window, Dean was just looking out through, is gone and instead there's a fireplace. The entire bedroom part of the motel have turned into a living room.

"Okay, I don't know what's weirder. The fact that we're in Bobby's head or that he's dreaming of Better Homes and Gardens." (y/n) remarks and Dean let's out a playful scoff. "You're telling me." Dean said as they look around. "Wait. Wait a sec. Imagine the place without the paint job." Sam said as he begins gesturing to everything he's talking about. "More cluttered, dusty, books all over the place." He said and they begin to move around the living room. 

"It's Bobby's house." Dean said. "Yeah." said Sam and (y/n) looks around. "Bobby?" She calls out in a hushed whisper as the trio look around.

"Bobby?" Sam calls out as he looks up the stairs. Sam looks towards the door, while Dean and (y/n) were still in the living room. "Guys?" Sam calls out and the two turns around to Sam. "I'm gonna go look outside." He said and Dean shakes his head. "No, no, no, stay close." He whispers. "Dude, I'll be fine. Just, look around in here. Look, we gotta find him." Sam said.

"Don't do anything stupid." (y/n) said and Sam nods and walks to the door, where it's still raining outside. Sam comes out and sees everything in bright technicolor and the sun is shining. The house is bright blue, with flowers all around, and birds chirping can be heard. Sam walks out on the porch, a confused look on his face.

While Sam takes this in, the door suddenly slams shut behind him. Sam turns around at the sound and goes back and tries to open it but it's locked. "Dean! (y/n)!" He shouts then he walks over to the window next to the door and bangs on the wall while looking in. He sees Dean and (y/n) through the window, still looking around the house with their backs to Sam, but they don't seem to react to neither Sam calling their names or him banging on the wall. "Dean! (Y/n)! Guys!" Sam shouts walks down the porch out of view.

Dean open the doors to the kitchen and he and (y/n) walks in, looking around cautiosly. They move through the kitchen towards the hallway on the other side. "Bobby?" Dean calls out as they walk out into the hallway, where there's two doors. One across from the kitchen and one on the left.

"Bobby!" (y/n) said then they turn around as if they heard something and look down the hallway in the other direction, where there's another closed door. "Who's out there?" A scared voice calls out from the door behind them.

Dean and (y/n) turn back to the door that was on their left when they entered the hallway. They walk over to the door and see long scratch marks on it. Dean touches them as he goes for the doorknob. "Bobby, you in there?" Dean whispers. "Dean?" Bobby calls out. "Yeah. It's me. (Y/n)'s here too. Open up." Dean said.

Bobby opens the door and looks behind Dean and (y/n). "Hey." (y/n) said and Bobby moves towards the kitchen and looks around, like he was making sure something wasn't coming. He's scratched up on his cheek and nose. Dean and (y/n) walk up next to him.

"How in the hell did you find me?" Bobby asked them. "Sam, Dean and I got our hands on some of that Dream Roof stuff." (y/n) said. "Dream Root? What?" Bobby said, confused. "Dr. Gregg, the experiments?" Dean said then Bobby, who's still looking around, throws them a terrified glance.

"What the hell are you talking about?" he asked then the lamps begin to flicker. "Hurry." Bobby exclaims, scared, and he runs for the closet again. Dean turns around and grabs him. "Woh, woh, woh, woh, woh. What's going on?" Dean asked him. "She's coming." Bobby said, panicked.

"Okay, you know this is a dream, don't you?" (y/n) asked him. "What are you, crazy?" Bobby said, terrified. "It's a dream, Bobby! None of this is real!" Dean yells but then they hear a door opening. Bobby's eyes widen in fear then he points behind the couple. "Does that look made-up?" He asked them.

Dean and (y/n) turn around and sees a woman coming out into the hallway. She's wearing a white dress and there's blood on it and her. Suddenly the closet door slams shut and Bobby turns around, rattling the doorknob to make it open. Dean and (y/n) look at him and then when Bobby turns around, the couple look back at the woman.

She looks rather normal except for a few cuts on her chest and neck. Even her hair is styled in a regular fashion. She doesn't look happy though. "Bobby, who is that?" (Y/n) asked him as Bobby has tears in his eyes now, but not from being terrified. "She's...She's my wife." Bobby said and Dean and (y/n) share a look before the looked between Bobby and his wife.

"Why Bobby? Why did you do this to me?" His wife asked as they're now standing in the kitchen, by the living room, and Bobby's wife is standing in the doorway leading to the hall. At her words, Bobby turns around. "I'd rather died myself than hurt you." Bobby said, tearfully. "But you did hurt me. You shoved that knife into me. Again and again. You watched me bleed. Watched me die." She shouts as Dean and (y/n) come up behind Bobby and grab ahold of him.

"Bobby, she's not real." Dean said but Bobby doesn't respond to Dean, his eyes are on his wife. "How could you?" His wife asked as Bobby is close to crying now. "You were possessed, baby. You were rabid. And I didn't know what I know now. I didn't know how to save you." Bobby replied.

"You're lying. You wanted me dead. If you'd loved me, you would've found a way!" She screams. "I'm sorry." Bobby whimpers then Dean and (y/n) grab hold of him again, more forceful this time. "Come on." (Y/n) said as her and Dean drag him into the living room and as Dean and (y/n) begin to slide the doors closed, Bobby's wife runs for the doors, screaming.

Meanwhile, Sam was walking by a line of washed sheets, drying in the wind. When he turns around, Jeremy shows up with a bat, swinging, hitting him hard in the chest and shoulder. Sam falls to the ground, holding his shoulder and Jeremy stands over him. "Who are you?" Sam asked. "Who are you? You don't belong here." Jeremy said. "You're one to talk. You're in my friend's head." Sam said.

"You got a poor choice in friends. This is self-defense. He came after me. He wanted to hurt me." Jeremy said. "Maybe because you're a killer." Sam growls. "You should be nicer to me. In here...you're just an insect. I'm a god." Jeremy warns.

Back inside, Bobby's wife is jumping and banging on the doors to the living room, screaming. "We're telling you, all of it. Your house, your wife, it's a nightmare." (Y/n) tells Bobby as her and Dean were standing by the doors, keeping them closed. Bobby is standing across from them, just looking at them, while his wife continues to bang and scream. Dean finally grabs a wire to tie around the door handles.

"I killed her." Bobby cries. "Bobby! This is your dream that you can wake up. I mean, hell, you can do anything." Dean yells as he ties the doors together just as Bobby walks up behind him. "Just leave me alone. Let her kill me already." He begs.

(Y/n) grabs hold of him, trying to get him to wake up, to snap out of it. "Look at me. Look at me. You gotta snap out of this now. You gotta snap out of this now! You're not gonna die. Dean's not gonna let you die. I'm not gonna let you die. You're like a father to us. You gotta believe us, please." She pleads and they look at each other for a moment.

Bobby looks once at the door his wife is still banging on and screaming behind, and then he look back at (y/n). "I'm dreaming?" He asked. "Yes. Now take control of it." Dean yells. Bobby looks towards the door, and then he closes his eyes tightly and suddenly all the banging and screaming stops.

(Y/n) lets go of him and walks over to the doors. Dean removes the cable and slides the doors open, revealing an empty kitchen. Bobby's wife is nowhere in sight. "I don't believe it." Bobby whispers and Dean and (y/n) turns around and look at him. "Believe it." (Y/n) said, breathing heavily. "Now would you please wake up?" Dean asked.

Outside, Sam is still on the ground and Jeremy is standing over him. "Sweet dreams." Jeremy said and he raises the bat and Sam pulls up his arm to take the impact. Jeremy swings the bat down hard.

At that moment, Bobby wakes up with a force, sitting up in bed, while at the hotel Dean, (y/n) and Sam wake up with a force, sitting up on their beds, panting. The trio are panting and Dean looks down at his cup. Then they look over at each other.

Bobby is sitting in bed, looking over the papers from the investigation while Dean and (y/n) were sitting on the bed next to him. "Hey, Bobby. That, uh...That stuff, all that stuff with your wife?" Dean asked and Bobby looks over at him. "That actually happen?" Dean asked.

"Everybody got into hunting somehow." Bobby replied and the two frown. "I'm sorry." (y/n) said. "Don't be sorry. If it weren't for you two, I'd still be lost in there. Or dead. Thank you." Bobby said. "You're welcome." (Y/n) said as Dean only responds with a twitch of his lips. Sam comes in after that, seeing the guys sharing a look.

"So, uh, stoner boy wasn't in his dorm. My guess is he's long gone by now." Sam said and Bobby scoffs. "He ain't much of a stoner." He said as he picks up a picture of Jeremy, looking at it. "No?" Dean asked. "No. His name's Jeremy Frost. Full-on genius. Hundred-and-sixty IQ. Which is sayin' some, considering his dad took a baseball bat to his head." Bobby explains and Dean nods at that.

Bobby picks up another paper and hands it to Sam. "Here's Father of the Year." He said and Sam sees that it's a copy of a drivers license for Jeremy's dad, Henry David Frost. "He died before Jeremy was 10." Bobby said. "Looks like a real sweetheart." Sam said, sarcastically.

"Injury gave him Charcot-Wilbrand, he hasn't dreamt since." Bobby said as Sam puts the paper back on the little side table. "Till he started dosing the dream drug." Dean said. "Yep." Bobby said.

"How'd he know how to dig up your worst nightmare and throw it at you?" (y/n) asked Bobby. "He was rooting around in my skull. God knows what he saw in there." Bobby replied. "Yeah. How'd he get in there in the first place? Isn't he supposed to have some of your hair, your DNA or something?" Sam asked and Dean and (y/n) nod. "Yeah. Before I knew it was him, he offered me a beer. I drank it. Dumbest frigging thing." Bobby said and (y/n)'s eyes widen then she looks over at Dean, who realized he's done the same thing and tries to make it a bit lighter.

"Oh, I don't know. It wasn't that dumb." Dean said then he gives a nervous laugh. (Y/n) runs her hand over her eyes as Sam and Bobby both looks at him with this comment. "Dean, you didn't." Sam said and Dean looks between them. "I was thirsty." He said and Sam scoffs then looks at (y/n).

"I didn't take it." She said. "That's great, now he can come after either one of you." Sam said as he points between Dean and Bobby. "Well, now we just have to find him first." (Y/n) said. "We better work fast and coffee up. Because one thing we cannot do is fall asleep." Bobby said.

Two Days Later

Dean's behind the wheel, Sam is sitting next to him while (y/n) is in the backseat. Dean is clearly pissed over the whole situation. "I mean, this Jeremy guy's not a frigging ghost. Where the hell could he be?" Dean asked, angrily.

"Dean, you sure you don't want me or (y/n) to drive? You seem a little...caffeinated." Sam said and Dean looks over at him. "Thanks for the news flash, Edison." Dean growls. "Baby, calm down." (Y/n) said, in a calm voice. "Calm?! I am calm!!" He yells then his cell rings. He tries to get hold of it but it's turns out it's a bit hard and he mutters indistinctly. He finally gets it up.

"Tell me you got something." he said into the phone. "Strip club was a bust, huh?" Bobby remarks. "Yeah." Dean growls. "That was our last lead." Bobby said, shrugging. "What the hell, Bobby!" Dean yells. "Don't yell at me, boy. I'm working my ass off here." Bobby said, sternly. "Sorry, I'm sorry. I'm just..I'm-I'm-I'm tired." Dean said, more calmer. "Well, who ain't?" said Bobby.

"What's Bela got?" Dean asked him. "What do you got, Bela?" Bobby asked her as she looks over her spirit board. "Sorry. Sometimes the spirit world is in a chatty mood, and sometimes it isn't." She replied, shaking her head, then Bobby turns back to his phone. "She's got nothing." He informs Dean. "Great! Well, I'm just gonna go blow my brains out now!" Dean yells, angrily, then he flips the phone closed and throws it in his lap. He hits the steering-wheel grunting angrily. 

Suddenly, minutes later, Dean turns the car on a sideroad instead of continuing on. When they get to a clearing in the woods, he shuts off the engine. "Alright, that's it. I'm done." He said and he slides down a bit in his seat, resting his head on the back of it. "What are you doing?" (Y/n) asked him. "Taking myself a long-overdue nap." He replied.

"What? Dean, Jeremy can come after you." Sam said, worried. "That's the idea." Dean replied. "Excuse me?" (Y/n) said, shocked. "Come on, we can't find him, so let him come to me." Dean said. "On his own turf? Where he's basically a god?" Sam said, questioning. "I can handle it." Dean said. "Not alone, you can't." Sam said and be reaches over and pulls out some of Dean's hair.

"Ow!" Dean exclaims and touches his head where Sam grabbed some hair. "What are you doing?" He asked as Sam hands some of the hair to (y/n). "Coming in with you." Sam said. "No, you're not." Dean said, firmly. "Why not? At least then it'll be three against one." (Y/n) said and Dean doesn't have a response at first, opening and closing his mouth.

"'Cause I don't want you two digging around in my head." he said. "Too bad." Sam said and goes for the items to make the liquid and Dean just looks at them for a moment.

They're both asleep, leaning on the doors of the Impala. Sam wakes up first, clearing his throat. "Guys." Sam said as he hits Dean on his arm and Dean wakes up forcefully. "Jeez. For the love of God." Dean exclaims then looks around a bit, looking extremely tired, while Sam wakes (y/n) up.

"What are we still doing here?" Dean asked as (y/n) rubs her eyes and looks around. "I have no idea." Sam said just as a sound can be heard from outside the car. "There's someone out there." (y/n) said then they get out of the car, looking around.

As they walk in front of the car, music can suddenly be heard. Dean looks behind him and then when he turns around, a corner of the clearing lights up, and there sits (y/n), a different one, on a little blanket and a picnic basket. She was wearing a flowing summer dress, her hair was done up and she was wearing make-up.

Dean just looks at her and she smiles up at him. "Hey. You gonna sit down?" She asked him. Dean doesn't move, he just looks at her. She has a glass of red whine in her hand and she reaches for another glass in the basket.

"Come on. We only have an hour before we have to pick (son's name) up from baseball." She said and holds theglasss for him, giving him another smile. Sam and the real (y/n) were standing a bit behind Dean, taking this all in as Dean just looks at her. He looks over at Sam and (y/n). "I've never had this dream before." He said then he turns back, away from Sam and (y/n). 

(Y/n) takes a few steps towards him. "Stop looking at me like that." Dean said. "Dean? Is this what you want?" (Y/n) asked as she nods towards the dream scene. "Dean. I love you." Dream (y/n) said and she smiles.

Suddenly, her entire scene shakes and both her, the picnic, the light and the music disappears. Dean looks around and Sam and (y/n) turn around, doing the same. "Where'd she go?" Dean asked and (y/n) places her hands on her hips. "Right here, you dummy." She said, sarcastically, while Sam is looking into the woods and suddenly Jeremy comes out from behind a tree.

"Guys." He shouts and he takes after Jeremy, who runs off. Dean and (y/n) quickly follow Sam and they run into the woods. Dean looses track on Sam and (y/n), but keeps running in the same direction.

Suddenly he stops and turns, looking around confused. "Okay." he mutters as the woods have turned into wallpaper and Dean is standing in a hallway with doors on both sides.

Sam and (y/n) were still running through them, in pursuit of Jeremy. They come to a clearing, where they stop, panting, looking around. "Dean?!" (Y/n) calls out but no response.

Dean is walking down the hallway towards a door at the end of it. Before he reaches it, it suddenly opens up slowly. Dean stops, watching. The door glides open more, revealing a motel room. A clicking noise sounds out as Dean enters the room. As he comes in, he sees that the motel room looks exactly as the one him, Sam and (y/n) are staying in.

Across the room from the door, sits a man on the chair by the desk. Dean walks further into the room, watching him. "Jeremy?" He asked. The man keeps clicking the on and off button for the lamp on the desk, his back to Dean. He clicks the lamp back on and he turns his head back towards Dean. Dean sees that the man is himself.

Dream Dean slowly stands up, and turns to Dean, who swallows at the sight of himself. "Hey, Dean." Dream Dean said. "Well, aren't you a handsome son of a gun." Dean said as he smiles. "We need to talk." Dream Dean said as Dean nods and begins to walk in a circle, as does Dream Dean.

They're walking in the same direction just across from each other. "I get it. I get it. I'm my own worst nightmare, is that it? Huh? Kind of like the Superman III junkyard scene? A little mano-y-mano with myself?" Dean jokes. "Joke all you want, smart-ass. But you can't lie to me. I know the truth." said Dream Dean.

They stop walking, now having changed places. Dean standing by the desk, Dream Dean by the door. "I know how dead you are inside. How worthless you feel. I know how you look into a mirror...and hate what you see." Dream Dean said. "Sorry, pal. it's not gonna work. You're not real." Dean said, smiling. "Sure I am. I'm you." Dream Dean said.

"I don't think so. 'Cause see, this is my siesta. Not yours." Dean said and he raises left hand. "All I gotta do is snap my fingers and you go bye-bye." He said and he snaps his fingers once, and nothing happens. Dean snaps again, noticing nothing's happening, and Dream Dean just watches him. He snaps them three more times and then lets his hand fall to his side. The smile gone, but his eyebrows are raised at this.

Dream Dean gives him a nod and looks at him, clearly saying see. "I'm not going anywhere. Neither are you." Dream Dean said and the door slams shut behind him, and locks. All the smiles are gone from Dean's features, taking in the seriousness. "Like I said..." Dream Dean said as he raises his right hand, in which he now has a pistol-grip sawed-off. "...we need to talk."

A bang was heard, and Sam and (y/n) wake up, gasping. They look over at Dean, who's still asleep. "Dean." Sam said and he hits him on the arm. "Hey." Sam said as he hits him on the arm a couple of times. "Wake up." (Y/n) said as she places her hand on his shoulder.

Dean turns but it wasn't Dean, it was Jeremy. Sam only has a second to respond and take in that it's Jeremy and not Dean, and then Jeremy hits him hard in his stomach with the tip of the bat he used earlier in Bobby's Dream. "Sam!" (Y/n) screams as Sam grunts and opens the door.

Sam falls out through the door, face first, still grunting over the pain. Jeremy comes around the front of the car, the bat resting against his shoulder. (Y/n) goes to open the door but it wouldn't open. "No, no, no, no...." she mutters as she tries to open it.

"Boy, you just don't know when to leave well enough alone, do you?" Jeremy said as he walks towards Sam, who's reached the back of the Impala still on the ground, he closes the door Sam fell out through and continues walking up to him. Towering over Sam who's now turned over, looking up at him, still moving backwards.

"You're a psycho." Sam spat at him. "You're wrong." Jeremy said. "Yeah? Tell that to Dr. Gregg." Sam sneers as (y/n) slams her fist repeatedly against the window.

"The doc? No, no. The doc's the one that got me hooked on this stuff and then he took it away." Jeremy said as Sam is lying still on the ground, looking up at him. He leans on the Impala, raising the bat, holding it like he's about to swing, looking down at Sam. "But I needed it, and he wouldn't let me have it." He said as (y/n) goes to roll the window down.

"So you killed him?" Sam asked him. "I can dream again. You know what that's like, not being able to dream? You never rest, not really. It's like being awake for 15 years." Jeremy said as the window was rolled all the way down and (y/n) starts to crawl out.

"And let me guess. That makes you go crazy?" Sam asked as he noticed (y/n) getting out. Jeremy leans down towards Sam, holding the bat out at him. "I just wanna be left alone. I just wanna dream." Jeremy said as (y/n) got out and starts to stand up and walk, cautiously, towards Jeremy.

"Sorry. Can't do that." Sam said. "That's the wrong answer." Jeremy said and (y/n) jumps on his back. The two struggle a bit and Sam tries to get up but he was pulled flat against the ground. He begins to breathe heavily as he sees that he is now tied to railroad spikes, unable to move.

Jeremy and (y/n) struggle and fight a bit until Jeremy yanks the bat out of her hands and swings it at her head. She falls to the ground and then was tied up, similar to Sam. "I'm getting better and better at this. Stronger and stronger all the time." Jeremy said as (y/n) struggles in her binds while Jeremy stands by Sam's feet, now examining the bat.

Sam looks to the side, and Jeremy looks down at him. "But you, your friend and your brother? You're not waking up. Not this time. I'm not gonna let you." Jeremy said as Sam looks up at him and (y/n) gives a look of fear at this.

"I mean, you're going to hell and you won't lift a finger to stop it." Dream Dean said as he and Dean begun circling each other again. "Talk about low self-esteem." He chuckles. "Then again, I guess it's not much of a life worth saving, now is it?" Dream Dean said as Dean mutters to himself. "Wake up, Dean. Come on, wake up."

"I mean, after all, you've got nothing outside of Sam and (y/n)." Dream Dean said and they stop circling each other. They're now back in their original positions. Dean by the door, Dream Dean by the desk.

"You are nothing. You're as mindless and obedient as an attack dog." Dream Dean said and Dean smiles a little. "That-That's not true." Dean said. "No? What are the things that you want? What are the things that you dream? I mean, your car? That's Dad's. Your favorite leather jacket? Dad's. Your music? Dad's. Do you even have an original thought?" Dream Dean asked and Dean scoffs, not wanting to admit to anything. "No. No, all there is is, Watch out for Sammy. Look out for your little brother, boy! Or​​​​ Watch out for (y/n). Keep an eye out for my daughter. You can still hear your Dad's and (father's name)'s voices in your head, can't you?" Dream Dean said as he motions with the weapon to his head.

"Clear as a bell." he said and Dean smiles. "Just shut up." Dean mutters as Dream Dean takes down the weapon. "I mean, think about it...all your dad ever did was train you, boss you around." Dream Dean said as they're now standing face to face. "But Sam...Sam, he doted on. Sam, he loved. Hell, he even loved (y/n) and she wasn't his kid." Dream Dean said.

"I mean it. I'm getting angry." Dean growls. "Dad knew who you really were. A good soldier and nothing else. Daddy's blunt little instrument. Your own father didn't care whether you lived or died. Why should you?" Dream Dean asked and Dean snaps.

"Son of a bitch!" He shouts and he pushes Dream Dean hard, and he hits the wall above the desk, landing on it. "My father was an obsessed bastard!" Dean screams, angrily. Dream Dean tries to get up but Dean kicks him down on the desk again. He holds the weapon as a bat and hits Dream Dean once and then pins him to the wall with it.

"All that crap he dumped on me, about protecting Sam. That was his crap. He's the one who couldn't protect his family. He--" Dean yells then he steps back and swings the weapon again, hitting Dream Dean twice. "He's the one who let Mom die. Who wasn't there for Sam. I always was! He wasn't fair! I didn't deserve what he put on me." Dean yells as he pins Dream Dean again.

"The same goes for (father's name) l was always there for (y/n)!" He yells and he backs away from Dream Dean. "And I don't deserve to go to hell!" He screams and he shoots Dream Dean twice in the chest.

Dean lowers the weapon and looks at Dream Dean, who is dead. There's bloodspatter on Dream Dean's face and his eyes are closed.

Jeremy alternates between hitting Sam and (y/n) repeatedly on their legs and knees, both with the bat and with his feet. Sam and (y/n) were grunting through the assault, not able to move.

Dean approaches Dream Dean on the desk, looking at him. Suddenly Dream Dean's eyes flickers open and they're completely black, as when a demon possesses a human. Dean widens his eyes at that as Demon Dean sits up, looking into Dean's eyes. "You can't escape me, Dean. You're gonna die. And this, this is what you're gonna become!" He said in a hard angry voice.

Jeremy is now standing over (y/n), the bat hovering above (y/n)'s chest. "You can't stop me. There's nothing I can't do in here." Jeremy said as (y/n) pants. "Because of the Dream Root." Sam said and Jeremy looks over his shoulder at him. "That's right." He said. "Yeah? Well, you're forgetting something." Sam said and Jeremy turns to Sam.

"What's that?" he asked as Sam looks up at him. "(Y/n) and I took the Dream Root too." Sam said and he smiles. "Jeremy!" A male voice yells. Jeremy turns around and sees his father, Henry, standing at the edge of the woods. "Jeremy!" Henry shouts. "No. No." Jeremy mutters as Henry begins walking towards him.

"Dad?" Jeremy said, confused. "You answer me when I'm talking to you, boy." Henry shouts and Jeremy backs away from Sam, (y/n) and Henry. He no longer has the bat in his hands. "No." Jeremy said and suddenly Sam shows up and hits Jeremy across his face with the bat and continues to hit him as (y/n) gets up and looks on with worry until her and the boys wake up. They look over at each other and then look away. 

Dean was on the phone with his back to the door while (y/n) sits on the edge of the bed, her leg bouncing. Dean closes the phone and when he hears the lock being unlocked, he turns around and sees Sam and Bobby entering. "Hey, you guys seen Bela? She's not in her room. She's not answering her phone." Dean said as they close the door and come in.

"She must've taken off or something." Sam said. "Just like that? It's a little weird." (Y/n) remarks. "Yeah well, if you ask me what's weird is why she helped us in the first place." Bobby said and Dean and (y/n) look over at him.

"I thought you saved her life." Dean said and Bobby furrows his brow in confusion. "What the hell are you talking about?" He asked. "The thing in Flagstaff." (Y/n) said and Sam turns around and looks at Bobby. "That thing in Flagstaff was an amulet. I gave her a good deal, that's all." Bobby said and the trio gets confused at that.

Sam turns around and looks at him, confused. He turns back to Bobby. "Well, then why did y-?" Sam started to ask until Bobby gives him a look. "You three better check your pockets." Bobby said and Sam reaches into his pockets, as does Dean and (y/n).

"Not literally." Bobby said and Dean stops what he's doing and slowly looks at (y/n) then up at Sam and turns to the safe in the closet.  No, no, no, no." Dean mutters as he walks and goes over to the safe and opens it up. It's empty.

"The Colt." (y/n) said as Dean looks over at them and slams the safe shut. "Bela stole the Colt." Sam exclaims. "Damn it, kids!" Bobby yells as Dean looks at everyone. 

"Pack you crap." he orders a Dean walks over to his bag on the couch. "Why? Where are we going?" (y/n) asked and Dean turns to her. "We're gonna go hunt the bitch down." he replied.

Later, the trio are standing by the open trunk, Dean is zipping his bag closed and Sam and (y/n) puts their own in there. "Hey, Sam. (y/n). I was wondering. When you guys were in my head, what did you two see?" Dean asked. "Uh, just Jeremy. He kept us separated from you. Easier to beat our brains out that way, I guess." Sam said and Dean scoffs. 

"What about you? You never said." (y/n) said and Dean shakes his head. "Nothing. I was looking for you two the whole time." Dean said as he takes the keys out the lock to the trunk and closes it and they get into the car.

Sam sighs as he sits down in the backseat of the car and (y/n) in the passenger seat.. Dean looks thoughtfull for a while. "Guys." Dean said and Sam and (y/n) look over at him. "Yeah?" They said but Dean doesn't look at them and he clears his throat.

"I've been doing some thinking. And...Well, the thing is...I don't wanna die." Dean said. Sam and (y/n) expression softens, then saddens. "I don't wanna go to hell." Dean said and Sam swallows, not answering right away. He nods his head softly while (y/n) bites her lips then reaches out to Dean. She takes his hand in his then strokes the back of his hand with her thumb.

"Alright. Yeah. We'll find a way to save you." She said and Dean looks over at her, and then looks away nodding. He looks back at Sam then (y/n), a little smile on his lips. "Okay, good." He said and the two nod at him, reassuringly.

@rach5ive @kitsun369 @itzabbyxx @cevans-winchester @ellie-andthemachine

[myimaginaryradio]

Carry On Wayward Son - Kansas - 1976

We, @mom-and-popcosmic and @impala-dreamer , will be vending at this year's Momento Con in Pittsburgh Pa. August 5th and 6th. This is a great Supernatural themed con, very relaxed and affordable. Come by, say hello, hang out, and get some art and stuff. Hope to see you there.

[bitter69uk]

Recently watched: gleefully cheap, nasty and enjoyable exploitation flick The Children (1980). Tagline: “Something terrifying has happened to … The Children.” It was free to stream on Amazon Prime (as well it should be) and their synopsis is more succinct than anything I could come up with: “A nuclear-plant leak turns a busload of children into murderous atomic zombies with black fingernails.” Yes, the contemporary reviews were scathing (The Orlando Sentinel termed the cast “the ugliest bunch of folks we've seen assembled on any screen at any one time” and The Pittsburgh Post-Gazette accurately but cruelly noted that the children’s charred victims resemble “leftover pepperoni pizza, complete with black olives and anchovies”). But seen today, The Children looks like a prime example of irresistible low-brow drive-in fare complete with gore, violence, bad special effects and the occasional glimpse of bare breasts. And there is artistry here: as the It Came from Beyond Pulp blog perceptively argues, “once night falls, [director Max Kalmanowicz’s] true gifts come into play. Under cover of near-darkness, he exhibits an almost supernatural mastery of simple, evocative, and scary-as-hell shot framing, shock reveals, and pacing. He doesn’t make the mistake, common in the slasher genre, of overlighting his shots: the lighting here is the familiar blindness-inducing pitch black of a moonless night, in which headlights, flashlights, and candles illuminate just enough to remind you of how cavern-dark everything else is. It’s here, in the dark, where he uses his scary kids brilliantly. Smiling, arms outstretched, calling “mommy, mommy” in their piping voices, they loom out of the blackness like pretty little angels of death: this is the single scariest image I can remember from any horror film.” Unsurprisingly, The Children’s cast is mainly unknowns, but one woman felt vaguely familiar: Gale Garnett (who delivers a very broad, soap opera-style performance). She was the singer of 1964 hit "We'll Sing in the Sunshine", which I remember being ubiquitous on the radio when I was a kid.

[twinsunsintatooine]

into the sunverse !!

hi this is my tumblr blog, home to all my interests and thereby most of what makes me, me :3

who am i if not just a bunch of different fandoms in a trenchcoat pretending to be some guy?

i am okay with both he/him and they/them pronouns both r cool

☆

find my blog posts and rambles here: #sun speaks

find my blog posts about books im reading here: #sun reads

and my reviews of books (and or movies...occasionally) here: #sun reviews

☆

fandoms i blog about here

music: fall out boy, my chemical romance, twenty øne piløts

tv shows/movies: 9-1-1, supernatural, ted lasso, dr who, naruto, the sandman, top gun, star wars, the mandalorian, doctor who

comics: blorbos -> the flash (wally west), the world's finest, nightwing, minhkhoa khan, miles morales

sports: european football, NHL, F1 ; real madrid, toronto maple leafs, pittsburgh penguins-> sergio ramos and luka modric, geno malkin, max verstappen and oscar piastri

and dip and pip even though they don’t really fall under any of these categories

[blairstales]

Mòrag: Monster or Mermaid? 🧜‍♀️ | Scottish Folklore

Loch Morar is the deepest freshwater loch in Scotland, with points reaching 310m(1017 feet). Today, those dark depths are also said to house a cousin to the more well-known lake monster; Nessie(from Loch Ness).

This monster is named Mòrag, but her history is a little less clear than it may seem.

When most people are asked to picture Nessie, they think of something much like a plesiosaur, which is which is a creature that lived during the early Jurassic period.

Mòrag now often is described in a similar way, but it was not always how she was described.

Mòrag, a supernatural creature in Loch Morar similar to a mermaid, was an omen of death if seen by someone at sea. Description of Track Id: 1139, Date: 1953, Source: Tobar An Dualchais/Kist o Riches

Much different from the plesiosaur, this version of Mòrag has the lower body of a grilse(salmon), and the upper body of a beautiful human woman with golden hair.

“Almost mechanically he began to tell me a story of Loch Morar, and its deep, deep waters, and how a man had been drowned there, pulled down by the long arms of the water plants, and hidden in the great leaves — held as in the dreadful embrace of a mythical sea-monster. "People said he had gone to look for the mermaid , ” he said . ” A slim woman with the tail of a fish , and wonderful red – gold hair . She had eyes that were like stars , and drew the man on and on , till he forgot the deep , deep waters , and the slimy arms of the lilies ; forgot all but her eyes . ” The secret of the Turret by Sir Isaac Pitman (1905)

Rather than dangerous, she is mentioned as timid, and rarely seen. This is not necessarily a bad thing, as she is often said to be an omen of death. During these times, she will rush about the lake wailing loudly about the loss.

There is some confusion on who she cries for. Many people claim she only cries for one group or one family, and yet more than one group and family make that claim.

For example, she is said to cry for the:

Morar family

death of a hereditary chief

Macdonalds

Hereditary locals

Some stories specify she could be seen by anyone expecting a death soon, even if it was their own.

"Morag is always seen before a death and before a drowning especially before the death of the proprietor. When Iain Ruadh was drowned she was seen by Coll MacColl a native of Tiree. She was seen about six years ago before a man was drowned." Alexander Carmichael |  The Carmichael Watson Project

At some point, the lore of Mòrag sharply transformed from a beautiful mermaid to a fearsome sea creature.

‘Through my binoculars,’ says Gillies, ‘it appeared about 20 feet long and had prominent humps. Neither head nor tail was visible.’ Pittsburgh Press, November 27, 1948

[bumblybee-fic]

@flyingchiclets requested something with supernatural creatures...I may have interpreted this as supernatural Sid, and then didn’t end up including all that much supernatural in it in the end, but I hope you like it anyway!

It’s not really something they talk about when Zhenya moves in.

He’s already made the mistake of trying to boost the temperature past 65 degrees—Sid had been sweating like he was in a sauna, unable to leave the bed. Zhenya had switched the temperature back as soon as he’d realized, but Sid hadn’t given any explanation even then. Sid is an unassuming master of deflection; Zhenya could ask him what his favorite color is and he’d get an answer about hockey instead.

Zhenya starts wearing a hoodie around the house, regardless of the weather. 

Sid’s house isn’t as big as Zhenya’s had been, but there are rooms that Sid has never shown him. Early on, Zhenya discovers what is essentially a walk-in freezer, except instead of food, it’s just filled with comfortable chairs and a selection of alcohol. Zhenya’s always assumed it has something to do with the cryo fad that a lot of the guys have been into recently, because Sid is never one to do something halfway. 

He never does end up asking Sid about the room, and Sid’s never invited Zhenya inside. 

Zhenya’s suggestion to vacation in Miami is turned down swiftly, as is every offer Zhenya makes to go to the banya together. When he brings up going fishing during the summer, Sid goes on a tangent about ice fishing and Quebec and the right time of year for it.

“I change my mind,” Zhenya says quickly, because fishing in the winter sounds like his own personal version of hell. 

Zhenya takes these things in stride, partly because they aren’t that big of a deal in the end, and partly because they’re just part of what makes Sid who he is—the sky is blue, grass is green, and Sidney Crosby has some quirks. The fact that they go beyond hockey rituals doesn’t come as a shock. 

They’re having lunch outside with the team the first time it really clicks for Zhenya. It’s warm for Pittsburgh in October; the forecast had promised overcast skies, but instead the sun is making its presence known, and it feels almost like a mild summer day. They’re mostly through the meal, and some of the paler guys are sporting a little pink on their cheeks already. Zhenya can feel himself start to sweat through his t-shirt, and he can tell the other guys aren’t faring much better. 

He glances over at Sid, who’s been pretty quiet all afternoon. Out of all of them, he looks the worst: his cheeks are a cute shade of pink even though he’s otherwise looking a little gray, and he’s sweating so much that if Zhenya didn’t know better, he’d think Sid has a bad fever. There’s a small stack of paper napkins next to his plate—his meal is only partially eaten, which should have been Zhenya’s first clue—and Sid seems to be constantly wiping his face with a new one. 

Zhenya tilts his head toward Sid, a silent question. He doesn’t really want to bring everyone’s attention to him—Sid would hate that—but he’s not just going to sit there while Sid seems to be suffering, either. 

Sid gives him a watery smile, but he scoots his chair back from the table, the metal legs scraping against the concrete. “I’m gonna grab something from the bar,” he says, and Zhenya is up on his feet as soon as he hears that. 

“Me too,” Zhenya says, and Sid glares daggers at him but doesn’t keep Zhenya from following him into the restaurant. The air conditioning feels like they’ve just jumped into a pool on a summer’s day, and Zhenya almost wants to bask in it for a minute. 

Sid’s at the bar as promised, and Zhenya gets there soon enough after to hear his order: a pitcher of ice—just ice. 

“You hide beer somewhere?” Zhenya chirps, but Sid immediately lets his captain-face fall when he sees Zhenya. “You O.K., Sid?”

“I’m O.K.” He smiles at Zhenya, captain-face back on as per usual. Zhenya hates it. “Just need to cool off, is all.” 

“You sure you O.K.? You look bad.”

“Thanks, G.”

“You know what I mean!” 

Sid grabs a cocktail napkin from the bar, wiping his face again. While the air conditioning feels refreshing to Zhenya, it doesn’t look like it’s doing all that much for Sid. 

“You need go home?” Zhenya asks, his voice low. “I’m make something up, we go.”

“Geno, I’m fine. Please.” 

The bartender brings Sid his pitcher of ice cubes, and it’s almost instantaneous. Sid snatches it with one hand, then immediately shoves his other hand into the ice. He sighs, his eyes closing and his shoulders relaxing as his fingers wiggle a little, like he’s only stuck his hand in a jar of marbles. 

Zhenya is quiet for a moment, mostly because he thinks he’s either hallucinating or dreaming. When Sid looks like he’s got some life back in him again—and when Zhenya can actually figure out the right words to say—he scoots a little closer to Sid. 

“What’s happen, Sid?” Zhenya asks. 

Sid’s eyes flick open, and he’s staring at Zhenya wide-eyed, like he’d forgotten Zhenya was there. “It’s—it’s hard to explain.”

“Try me.”

Looking down, Sid removes his hand from the ice. There’s no sign of frostbite; his hands look the same as they always do, just wet. There’s an inch of water now at the bottom of the pitcher, and it’s starting to condensate. 

“I can’t be away from ice for very long,” he says. “It’s a long story, but if I get too hot or I’m not near it, I get sick.”

Zhenya lets this soak in. It explains a lot, really, but it also doesn’t explain much at all. He wants to ask about why Sid is this way, why he’s always cold when Zhenya touches him, why he’s only just now telling Zhenya about this. 

But Zhenya also realizes they’re in the middle of a bar, they’re with the team, and there’s a group of people in a corner booth that keep staring at them. Since Sid is otherwise preoccupied with, well, his health, it’s Zhenya’s responsibility to make sure this stays under wraps. 

“We talk at home,” Zhenya says. Sid nods quickly, though he stops when he sees Zhenya’s expression. Zhenya’s not happy about it, but he knows Sid would rather die than talk about it here, so he’s fine with waiting.

“I’m get beer for guys,” Zhenya says. “You want stay in here little longer?”

“I’ll help carry.” Sid brings the pitcher a little closer to himself, holding it against his chest. He looks like a little kid with his stuffed animal, and it almost makes Zhenya forgive him. “Don’t want you telling the guys I have diarrhea or something.”

He definitely feels better, then, if he’s willing to joke about it. Zhenya’s jaw relaxes—he hadn’t realized he’d been so tense before. 

“Maybe I’m tell them anyway,” Zhenya says, and Sid rolls his eyes, but it’s fond. “Maybe I’m tell them you so nice, get big pitcher of water for beer, share with everyone.”

“I’d like to see you try that.” Sid’s tone is the same as when Zhenya challenges him to a warmup competition, and Zhenya loves him, he really does. 

They head back outside with their arms full of drink orders, Sid’s pitcher still clutched against his chest.