#understudy announcement

[sexynetra]

Marcia starting a broadway run the week after I leave New York is my Roman Empire actually. I will never recover from this crime committed against me

[a-kinda-nerdy-girl]

One thing about me is that i will always think whoever is playing fiyero is cute

[f0point5]

Max Verstappen x bestfriend!reader Masterlist 2

Mr. Always Wins, so far above me in every sense - Max takes another win, and a disappointed Lando leans on Y/N

I see you every day now - Flashback to April 2020 when Max and Y/N first moved in together

All they keep asking me is if I’m gonna be your bride - Max’s podcast goes live, and Max and Y/N attend a wedding. Later, Y/N admits her frustrations to Daniel

I think he can see through everything but my heart - Max and Y/N vacation in Brazil, and Max covers Time magazine

So many things that you wish I knew, so many walls up, I can’t break through - Y/N goes to Sao Paolo to see Lando while Max heads to the UK. Meanwhile, Max opens up to Vic

This is looking like a contest, of who can act like they care less - Y/N and Lando take Las Vegas while Max is back in Europe. But both Y/N and Max keep tabs on each other through others

I can see you standin’ honey, with his arms around your body - Y/N attends Velocity Invitational with Lando, which stirs controversy on both sides of the pond

I can see you starin’ honey, like he’s just your understudy - It’s Lando’s birthday. In Europe, Max streams with Redline

Like any great love, it keeps you guessing…like any true love, it drives you crazy - Clara and Max arrive in Vegas and Clara lets Lando in on a well known secret

I don’t even dare to wish it - It’s Y/N’s birthday, but she has to deal with the fallout of Clara’s drunken confession

I think he knows - Y/N and her friends celebrate her birthday, which seems to give something to celebrate…or run from

Put your lips close to mine, as long as they don’t touch - The Vegas circus begins with a dramatic opening ceremony, followed by a gala event

Two headlights shine through the sleepless night - Y/N and Max continue to miss each other, and the weekend gets off to a chaotic start on track

I sent you signals and bit my nails down to the quick - Y/N attends Martin’s set and has a vulnerable moment with Max that goes awry

I’m capitulated by you,baby, like a firework show - Max wins in Las Vegas and Y/N puts aside the awkwardness to be happy for him

And that was the moment I knew - Max hosts Y/N’s birthday party, and gives her a huge present with unexpected results

Nothing safe is worth the drive - Max and Y/N have an open and honest conversation

I woke up just in time, now I wake up by your side - Max and Y/N leave Las Vegas just in time

Meet me in the afterglow - Y/N and Max spend a day in the desert and Lando puts the pieces together thanks to fruit

We’re burned for better - Mick makes an announcement, and the world once again speculates about Y/N’s love life

When they point to the pictures - Bonus part of Y/N sharing past memories

Our daddies used to joke about the two of us - Max and Y/N have dinner with their fathers after a nervous FP1 for Max

May these memories break our fall - Bonus part where Y/N shared memories near the end of the season

What would you do, if they never found us out? - Rumours swirl about Max and Y/N…for the final time

We will be remembered - And with that, the 2023 season comes to an end

✨There was one prize I’d cheat to win - Max and Emilia attend the Longines World Champions Tour✨

[phasecornnuts]

I would love to power bottom Valentino from hazbin hotel ples 😏 also I LOVE angst so maybe a bit of that 😌 head cannons or a fic doesn’t matter I love words

Hello again whores! This is over 16k words…. I think I may have a problem, but I cooked so whatever

Tbh I may open writing commissions bc I love y’all but if I’m writing biblical epics I lowkey would appreciate being paid (college is expensive) 😭

CW: For general angst and Drug use

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You hated working nights, but working for Val always meant you worked nights. If someone were to ask you to write a list of everything you disliked about the club, you’d swear the exterminators would be here by the time you were done with it. But alas, it was what it was and there was nothing you could do to change it. That fucking contract made sure of that.

There were a few things that could make your shift bearable though. You liked Angel, even though he didn’t really come by anymore because of that stupid hotel, you liked the free drinks, even though Val made sure they were watered down after you vomited on a customer, and you liked the pills Val would give you, even though they made you feel loopy when you preformed. Those were the shit. Grade A. Top tier. Happiness in a tablet the size of your fingernail.

In your dressing room you watched the clock, five minutes. God, you were already sweating in the shitty outfit Val made you wear for tonight. A frilly maid outfit with black lingerie underneath, the man wanted a strip-tease and he was gonna have it one way or another. With Angel gone, you were the only other person he thought was worth headlining. That felt good to hear, even if you were only second choice. Maybe Angel being gone was a good thing, not for him but for you, maybe Val would see that you’re better than him, that you tried more. Maybe then you could be the star, and not just the understudy. Maybe, maybe, maybe; The word’s rhythm wavered in your head.

Hoping for Val to want you was fruitless though, you knew. Angel was the golden goose- or spider, you supposed - and it would take an act of god for someone to eclipse him. You took your eyes off the clock, knowing getting lost in your thoughts would just lead to a spiral of self-loathing. You closed your eyes and released a heavy sigh. On your table, beside your makeup and phone stood a fluorescent orange bottle. Unscrewing the cap you let loose three in your palm before capping the bottle. You ran the pad of your thumb over the tiny white buttons, smooth and chalky, before placing them in a row on your tongue, all washed down with watery gin. A twisted communion.

You lean back in your chair, wondering when the pills are gonna kick in. About two minutes pass before you hear the door to your dressing room open and a tired waitress with smudgy blue eyeliner and a crooked wig tilts her head towards the hallway to tell you it’s time for you to get on stage. Walking past her, you can smell a heavy peach scented perfume she used to try to cover the smell of sweat. Your heels clacked on the tile floor as you walked up to the entrance of the stage. You scratched your back from the itchy fabric of the costume, then adjusted the tops of your stockings. The song that’s currently playing ends and the performer before you walks to the back, they’re huffing and tired. They stretch and pop their back before looking at you, mouthing “Good luck.” The DJ of the club took a beat before announcing you to the crowd. Rolling your shoulders, you walked on stage feeling the hot spotlights shine on you.

That’s when it hits.

All of the tension you held in your body lifted, and your mind began to swim as you felt the Oxy kick in. Fuck, they really were the best. They made you feel warm and floaty, made the world seem bearable. You swung your hips seductively as you sauntered to the pole, ready to begin your act. Looking around, all the faces of the crowd blended together. It felt like the world was painted in watercolor, all of its harsh edges gone, replaced with washes that drifted out into nothing.

A chemical confidence kicked in then. Those languid movements of yours had everyone entranced, grinding your sex to the pole as you teased eager watchers with a peek up your skirt. Over the music you could hear their hoots and wolf-whistles, then frenzy when you began to shimmy off your top, exposing that black bra you had on under. You throw it out into the crowd, grateful not to have that polyester piece of shit on you anymore. The way they all clamor to catch it made you bite your bottom lip with a smirk. They were all so pathetic.

You spun on the ball of your foot, but the weightlessness of your opioid addled body worked against you, making you fall. Luckily you caught yourself on your hands, pretending it was some sultry move like a lady in a porno. The crawling was good though, you pretended to fuck the stage before you got to the center. You leaned back on your hands, stretching out a heeled foot that they all begged to touch. One almost did, before you snatched it away.

Slipping off that ugly skirt and kicking it off into the drunken crowd felt so good. They were transfixed, enthralled, however you wanted to put it. Your high made everything better, blanketing your body in comfort- That was always the peak. Savoring those small moments that made them scream. Looping and spinning and sliding and going upside down, stretching your legs out spread-eagle. When you felt the room start to spiral you stopped with your back to it for support. With a fake sexiness you slid your hand down your stomach, into those thin painties before taking it out.

God, it felt good to be desired even if it was like this. Sure, Val didn’t want you, but they did. All those sinners and hell-born who clamored to touch you and have you touch them. How they fought over an ugly, scratchy top because you wore it.

Turning your head you saw a wide-eyed patron ignoring a half-drank glass. You smirk and crawl towards them, and their eyes turn to the size of saucers. Reaching the edge of the stage you lean over, hanging over their small table. You opened your mouth wide enough to kiss- But you didn’t. You let your tongue hang out of your mouth, letting a fat drop of spit land in their drink. That was all they could have of you; You smile and go back to the stage to continue your act.

You don’t know how long he’d been standing there when you saw him. Valentino. He nips at his cigarette while he looks at you, not knowing what he’s thinking. Your moves become bigger, looser, hoping to impress him. A glob of phlegm sits at the back of your mouth and you swallow, feeling the tenseness grow inside your body. I can be good too, see! I’m as good as Angel! Even better! Please…please don’t fire me.

He walks closer to the stage as you keep grinding on the pole. Your eyes meet for a second before you look away, unsure. When he reaches the edge of the stage is when you slam yourself to the floor- the crowd hollered. Val adjusts his glasses and takes a long, long drag from his cigarette. Your body cranes towards him, head lowered in reverence while you studied his face. Val was always so hard to read, that’s the thing you hated most about him - well, at least one of them- was he displeased, impressed, disinterested? Fuck if you knew.

With one hand he pinched your face, between his pointer and thumb. He pressed his mouth to yours, filling it with all of that warm smoke. The roof of your mouth hurt so much, but the rest of your body trembled. He’d never been this open, kissing you, watching you dance, it felt so, so good to have his attention. Val pulled away, pink cloud leaving your parted lips.

Valentino leaned in, “Meet me in the back.”

“I still have five minutes left…”

“I’m your boss.” There was a vague sternness to his words, what were five minutes compared to his regard?

You breathed heavily. “Gimme a second.”

Quickly as you could you got off stage. Your head was spinning and you couldn’t tell why- was it the Oxy? The drink? The dancing? The cigarette? All of them combined. The backstage was full of cold air, making goosebumps prickle over your legs. You crossed your forearms and leaned them on the wall. Eyes closed, you counted backwards from 100; 100, 99, 98, 97- Val with his cigarette showed up in your mind, how he pulled your mouth to his, how you shivered, how you liked it. You tried again, but he kept lingering. Another restart, going a bit longer this time, but you gave up somewhere around 56.

Through the backstage hallway you walked to the back, The Velvet Rooms. Those fancy, gilded places hidden away that only those Val liked - or who could afford it- could enter. Valentino hid himself away in the biggest one, a room within the wall closed off with heavy dark blue curtains. The Velvet Rooms were where Overlords and certain Goetia came to be spat on, spanked, and other “peculiar wants” that Val catered to.

Opening the curtains you were struck with the heavy scent of his smoke. You closed them shut, the room illuminated by a faint pink light. Val sat on the couch, legs spread wide and arms slung over the top, his heavy coat thrown to some unknown corner. Seeing him reminded you of how little clothes you had on. Val’s second set of arms beckoned you over, you obeyed. He rested them on your waist, idly feeling the texture of your garter belt.

“Good of you to come carino,” He kissed your stomach, tittering at the way you quivered. “You did so good I had to meet with you privately.”

“How could I deny you Valcito?” You responded in a honeyed tone that made him chuckle.

“Valcito?” He smirked.

“Aren’t you?” You tilt his head up to see your smiling face, dressed with sultry bedroom eyes, “My little Valcito who liked my dancing.”

Val showed off that gold tooth of his; He kissed your stomach again, leaving a little red mark.

You dropped your hands to his arms, sliding up to his biceps. You bit your lip, so hard and toned. For so long you were curious about Val’s body, his sex, his libido. You wondered what he did to Angel to make him so sore and his voice so hoarse. It was embarrassing how many nights you spent thinking about what he tasted like- though now there was no point, you knew now, cigarettes and citrus vodka.

The tips of his fingers traced along your hips, fingering the thin strap of your panties. Your voice grew weak as he nipped again and again at the soft flesh of your stomach. Mind in a daze, words slipped out of your mouth.

“You know, I’m surprised you called me back here…” A kitten-lick across your navel that made you squirm.

“Why’s that Carino? Don’t think you’re pretty enough?” His voice teased.

“I thought you didn’t like women”

“Why would you think that?” He looped his finger around the hip strap again

“Angel.” He snickered.

“Oh Carino, don’t worry. Angel is just the soup D’Jour,” His finger dipped forward along your hip bone, “Men, women; Women, men; all of those sweet things in-between, how could you pick just one?”

“How poignant.” You said with a bit of a flat affect. His waxing-poetic seemed so unimpressive to you. Though, you felt a stab of guilt for thinking so.

“You, Sugar, I just can’t deny,” Val moved his hands up along your torso, stopping just underneath your breasts, “Good tits, nice stomach, pretty face,” his attention went back to your panties, “You coulda been on the cover of Hustler. Hhhnn, maybe I’ll make you the centerfold this month…”

You leaned over him, pressing your face to his. Fuck, his tongue felt so good in your mouth, making your stomach start to knot and squirm. He took your bottom lip between his teeth, making you whine before you pulled away. Placing tiny nips on his neck, you felt the heat in your stomach grow hotter and hotter and turn to slick. You wanted to touch him, feel him, consume him, and be consumed.

Val pulled away for a second, but it felt like forever. He reached into a shallow pocket and produced a button of something. It was a tiny tablet, waxy and fat, and pinched between his two fingers. You wondered what it was, it didn’t look like Oxy. You hoped it was something stronger, desiring the out of body experience you’d been losing since you started to grow tolerant of the opiate.

“You ever play a game of rolling roulette Sugar?” Val asked, you shook your head no.

“You trade the X tongue to tongue, and whoever’s it dissolves on is the lucky winner.” Oh so it was Ecstasy, now that’s good shit.

Val pulled you onto his lap, cupping a breast, “C’mon Baby, let’s go on a trip together…”

That’s all it took.

The tiny pill teetered between both of your tongues as you kissed, growing smaller and smaller and smaller. Val’s spit was thick and sweet and wonderful, something about it making your body go alight with electricity. The X melted so easy, like blue cotton candy; You could feel the serotonin swell in your brain like a party balloon.

When the first roll happened you moaned into Val’s mouth. All of your nerves were standing on edge, shivering with anticipation. He removed your bra, placing a nipple in his mouth as you felt his cock grow harder. It felt so much better than your other highs. The Oxy only ever calmed things, washed them out. The X was so different, so so much better. Everything seemed to shimmer, like the whole world was wrapped in cellophane. How could you think the absence of feeling was so wonderful when this existed?

Your mind was in a twinkly daze when you started to undress him. He kissed and licked at your neck while you felt your way through unbuttoning his top. Fuck, his skin was so smooth and warm; He pressed you closer, teeth bit into your collar bone before dragging his tongue over the marks he left.

You kissed your way down Val’s body. At his chest you lingered, leaving tiny red marks on the trail to his V-line. Valentino’s head lolled back on the couch as you unzipped his cock with all of its dark hair. You put it in your hand, running your thumb over the leaking tip. He swore under his breath as you pumped him slowly, up and down up and down.

The warmth of your tongue dragged along his thick shaft. Your stomach gets a sharp squirm to it, same as your cunt. It’s hard to tell because of the drugs or how sexy Val looks with his legs wide open and his cock needy for your touch. Looking up at him, you’ve never wanted anything more in your life.

His breath hitched when you took him in your mouth. Your tongue twists and swirls around his cock, savoring the feeling of him hitting the back of your throat, making you gag. To try to calm that darling pain between your legs you rubbed your thighs together, but that didn’t help. All it served to do was make your cunt needier. You push his member deeper and deeper into your mouth; You moan into his sex, making him squeeze the palmful of hair he had in his hand tighter.

“You’re so good, Carino.” He says, breathless. You start to suck him faster, blowing and kissing and licking. Val kept sprinkling compliments throughout. It felt so good to be praised by him; All of those sweet things he’d save for everyone else, but never you. You’re so good, you’re so sexy, you take me so well, you’re so pretty, you make me so hard.

“‘M close.” He grabs your hair again, pulling your face in. Feeling devious, you pulled away, savoring the flustered look on his face. Val is huffing, fucked out, and dazed out of his goddamn mind on X.

“You can stand to wait a little longer Valcito~” You nip at the inside of one of his thighs, making his voice hitch into a falsetto. You dragged the tips of your fingers up to his sensitive stomach, mouth leaving a hard bite outline near his ribs. Tracing him was so wonderful, feeling all of those hard edges give into softness. Nursing on his neck, your thumb and forefinger followed his neck muscle and collarbone, dipping into their crevices.

“Valcito~” Your breath was hot against his neck. He mumbled something under his breath and tried to slip his hand into your panties. You caught his wrist and pushed it away, biting hard on his collarbone. You can wait.

Again your mouth found its way south, the want in your cunt becoming more and more painful. You took him in your mouth again, your saliva getting thick and syrupy. Val seized the opportunity and shoved your head down on his cock, chasing the release you denied him. Your teeth grazed his member before pulling away again. Val whined, his eyes pleading. A dark smile grew on your face before you took him again.

He let out a sharp breath and pressed his hands onto your scalp. You went faster, letting the flat of your tongue trace the vein on the underside of his cock. It was fun playing with him like this, having a little control with him for once. Val’s hands tensed in your hair when he warned you he was going to cum.

When he came he wailed, filling your mouth with his salty taste. Looking up at him, you opened your mouth. Val’s thumb traced your bottom lip, admiring his work.

“You look so good like this, Carino.” He huffed.

Pushing yourself from your knees you kissed Val, his seed still in your mouth. That’s all that took to make him go feral. He pulled you to his lap and laid you down, wrapping your legs around him. Without taking his mouth off yours he took his top off, ramming into your needy sex.

Fuck, Val was bigger than you thought he was. His pace was hard and fast, making you scratch your nails into his back. Your kiss tasted like everything good in the world- cum and grapefruit and cigarettes and cotton candy and euphoria. Both of you swallowed, pulling your faces away to catch your breaths. God, you were so wet, Val’s cock slipped in and out of you so easily and it felt so goddamn good. Better than any finger or cock or toy and it made you squeeze him tighter.

You pressed your forehead to his neck, mumbling nonsense. “I’m yours, I’m yours, I’m yours, I’m yours, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me.” Val spat on his fingers and slipped his hands between the two of you. You didn’t know what he was going to do until you felt his wet fingers graze your clit. He got rougher with it once he found it, making you squeal and cum on him.

That didn’t stop Val though, and god did it feel good. He kept fucking you through your release, making you cum another two times. Your legs felt like jelly, body weak and weightless. The X was releasing its last wave of chemical joy as he fucked you, pleasure rippling inside of you. He came inside you, making you sob into his neck. Val pressed you closer to him, whispering in your ear as you felt your release drip out of your cunt.

“You’re so good baby, so good and pretty.” Pleasepleasepleaseplease, say the magic words.

“I love you, you’re my perfect girl, my pretty baby.” You came again.

His thrusts got sloppier and you could tell he was gonna cum again. “Please, please, please, let me be your favorite, I’ll be good, I’ll be good, I’ll be good.” You whimpered.

The anticipation of an orgasm built up, shivering and needy. Val grazed your face and kissed you, “Oh you’re my favorite, baby. My little sullen girl~” He held you closer, savoring the way you squirmed when you came together.

When he was done he stayed inside you. Val pressed his head on the couch beneath you. You traced the scratches you left on his back, feeling your high from the X begin to ebb. Your breath felt so heavy and your mind so fuzzy. That all didn’t matter though, Val wanted you now. He’d been inside you, kissed you, felt you, squeezed you, and couldn’t get enough. He wanted you. So what if it was only for the moment, so what if this meant you could disappoint him, so what if you’re only a place-holder until someone better comes. You’re the favorite.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Monopolizing turds

Update 31 May 2023: an earlier edition of this article identified the price of Rebyota as $20,000; this was the rumored price prior to Rebyota’s release in December  2022, when Stephen Skolnick wrote the article I referenced. When Rebyota was actually released in 2023, the average wholesale price (AWP) was $10,800. Thanks to Benjamin Jolley for catching this error, and to Stephen Skolnick for getting to the bottom of it.

It’s been ten years — to the day! — since I first started writing about the bizarre, amazing world of turd transplants, in which a sick person receives a microbiotic infusion in the form of some processed poop from a healthy person:

https://web.archive.org/web/20130608030455/http://blogs.plos.org/publichealth/2013/05/29/why-diy-fecal-transplants-are-a-thing-and-the-fda-is-only-part-of-the-reason/

Gut biomes are one of those understudied, poorly understood medical areas that are both very promising and also full of sketchy medical claims from “supplement” companies, influencers, quacks and grifters. But in the decade since I first started tracking turd transplants (formally called “Fecal Microbiota Transplants” or FMTs), a growing body of sound science has emerged on the subject.

One thing that’s increasingly undeniable is that the composition of your microbial nation is related in significant ways to both your physical and mental health. What’s more, as antibiotic resistant “super bugs” proliferate, FMTs are becoming increasingly central to treating dangerous gut infections that otherwise stand a high chance of killing you.

“Eat Shit and Prosper” is Stephen Skolnick’s delightfully named newsletter about poop and health science. Skolnick is a physicist by training, but has a long history of collaboration with Openbiome, a nonprofit that coordinates between doctors, patients and donors to provide safe FMTs:

https://stephenskolnick.substack.com/

In an edition of Eat Shit from last December, Skolnick recounts the amazing history and dismaying future of FMTs. In 2013, the FDA announced it would regulate FMTs as “Investigational New Drugs,” which could only be administered as part of a registered clinical trial:

https://stephenskolnick.substack.com/p/a-monopoly-on-poop

At that point, FMTs were already in widespread use by docs to treat otherwise untreatable cases of Clostridioides difficile (C. diff), an antibiotic resistant bacterial infection that literally makes you shit yourself to death. These doctors were in no position to run registered clinical trials, which meant that they would have to stop using the most effective therapy they had for a potentially lethal infection.

Doctors and patients kicked up a fuss, and the FDA walked back its guidance, announcing that it would exercise “discretion” in enforcing its Investigational New Drug rule, giving a pass to docs who were treating C. diff with FMTs:

https://www.federalregister.gov/documents/2013/07/18/2013-17223/guidance-for-industry-enforcement-policy-regarding-investigational-new-drug-requirements-for-use-of

That’s where things have stood for the past decade or so. The “discretion” rule means that patients could still get FMTs, but their insurance wouldn’t cover it. But even if you had cash to pay for an FMT, your doc probably wouldn’t administer it for anything except a C. diff infection, despite the promising signs that FMT can help treat other conditions, and despite the generally safe nature of FMTs.

If your doc did give you an FMT, chances are good that they sourced their poop from Openbiome. Openbiome recruits very healthy people, gets them to poop in a bag, then processes the poop — removing nonbacterial solids, testing it for pathogens, freezing it, portioning it, and sending it to docs. All this is done at cost, and it’s not cheap: $1–2k/treatment, mostly due to cold-chain logistics (the poop is shipped at -80C).

Despite the cost, and despite the limitations on treatment, the Openbiome method has proved very reliable. Indeed, FMTs as a whole are pretty darned safe, with the most common side-effects being transient gas and bloating. In the past decade, there’ve been a total of six “adverse effects” associated with Openbiome’s 5,000+ procedures, all in severely immunocompromised people, and none conclusively linked to the treatment:

https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S0016508522003511/pdf

A decade into this system, the FDA has taken the next step forward — only it’s actually a step backwards.

During this intervening decade, a pharma company called Ferring has conducted clinical trials on FMTs and received approval for an FMT product called Rebyota. The process for making Rebyota is effectively identical to the process used by Openbiome: collect poop, remove solids, test for pathogens, add glycerol, freeze and ship.

The main difference between Rebyota and Openbiome’s poop is price. While Openbiome charges $1–2k per treatment, Rebyota charges $10,800

That’s some expensive shit!

Fine. Getting Rebyota through clinical trials means that insurers might start covering it, and perhaps some patients will prefer brand-name poop to open-source poop. But as part of the FDA’s approval of Rebyota, the agency also rescinded its “discretionary enforcement” guidance, making it illegal for docs to source their poop from Openbiome:

https://www.fda.gov/regulatory-information/search-fda-guidance-documents/enforcement-policy-regarding-investigational-new-drug-requirements-use-fecal-microbiota

For Ferring, this is a monopoly on shit, one that lets them charge patients $10.8k for poop that costs $1–2k to process. The FDA does not claim that this is being done in the name of safety. Instead, an FDA official told Skonick that the goal was to “incentivize innovation without creating an access crisis.”

That is, the FDA changed its guidance and put nonprofit stool banks out of business because it wants to incentivize pharma companies to perform expensive clinical trials, and it believes that these companies won’t pay for trials if they have to compete with the likes of Openbiome, which would make it impossible to charge 900% markups on poop.

Trials are important! Evidence-based medicine is important! But Ferring’s clinical trials didn’t tell us anything we didn’t already know. FMTs were already the best therapy we had for C. diff. Testing Rebyota against a placebo didn’t tell us anything new — unlike testing Rebyota against the existing therapies, e.g. product from open stool banks.

Such a trial might have given rise to a very different regulatory outcome, because the cure rate reported by Rebyota is much lower than the cure rate from Openbiome’s own interventions:

https://link.springer.com/article/10.1007/s40265-022-01797-x

That is, using the $1k poop from Openbiome seems to be much more effective than using the $10.8k poop from Ferring. But Openbiome, a nonprofit, hasn’t been able to perform the kind of rigorous — and expensive — clinical trial that Ferring funded.

This points to a significant problem with the FDA’s model. The agency wants good clinical data for the medicines it regulates, as it should, It presumes that the only way to get that data is through granting commercial exclusivity to a for-profit, which ends up costing patients vast sums, and locking many patients out altogether.

This creates all kinds of new dangers. 150,000 people/year in the US contract Recurrent Clostridium difficile Infection (RCdI). FMT increases the cure rate by 20% relative to antibiotics alone. That means that if everyone with RCdI gets a poop transplant, 30,000 extra people will get better. That’s a big number!

For well insured people, Rebyota probably represents a cash-savings — if your insurance covers the $10,800 procedure, you might pay $500 out of pocket, which is far less than the $1–2K you’d pay to get an Openbiome poop transplant. But if you’re uninsured or underinsured, the FDA’s new enforcement rules mean that you’re now on the hook for $10,800.

The FDA did carve out a loophole: if your doc or their hospital are willing to prepare the poop transplant themselves, they can administer that. On the one hand, preparing a poop transplant isn’t that hard — some people do them at home, on their own:

https://web.archive.org/web/20211015060558/https://thepowerofpoop.com/epatients/fecal-transplant-instructions/

But on the other hand, there’s been exactly one death conclusively linked to FMT, and it was from one of these hospital-prepared transplants (the patient had just had a marrow transplant for cancer that wiped out their immune system, and the donor had a novel pathogen that the hospital failed to test for).

So the FDA has created a situation where, if you can’t afford a $10,800 proprietary formulation, your only option is to convince your doc or hospital to prepare their own poop transplant, which will cost less than the $10.8k for Rebyota, but more than the $1–2k from Openbiome, which has all kinds of economies of scale. And if you do manage it, you’ll be getting a procedure that has a much worse safety track-record than the Openbiome process that the FDA just killed.

The FDA has an important role to play here, but as with so many policy questions, how the FDA plays that role depends on things that are far upstream from the agency and its decisions. The choice to fund medical trials through the promise of exclusivity — and with it, extremely high margins — puts the FDA in the position of choosing winners in the marketplace: Ferring wins, Openbiome loses.

Ironically, this is the thing that exclusivity is supposed to prevent. By using profit to incentivize medical research, the FDA is supposed to be recruiting the Invisible Hand as its partner in regulation. But exclusivity is incompatible with the idea of medicine as a public good. The tens (hundreds) of millions that Americans will pay for $10.8k poop transplants from Ferring will add up to far more than it would cost to underwrite clinical trials for an open process like Openbiome’s.

The result: both Americans’ wallets and Americans’ guts suffer.

Catch me on tour with Red Team Blues in Hay-on-Wye, Oxford, Manchester, Nottingham, London, and Berlin!

If you’d like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here’s a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/05/29/oh-shit/#rebyota

[Image ID: A poop emoji wearing a top hat and a monocle, posed against a backdrop of e coli bacteria seen through a high-resolution microscope.]

[throwing-in-the-towel]

wut is ur fav stagedoor memory/moment w diff members of the cast? ive heard theyre all rly nice and brent and josh r super funny/kind whicb is wild to me bc their perfomances r sooo instense.

i have so many..like seriously this post could be 15 paragraphs long,,but i'll pick out a few! they're all seriously the nicest people ever! (gonna talk about emma, jason, josh s, & trevor)

i always have lovely conversations with emma,,,but there was one we had in august that meant a lot to me and i think about like once a day LOL. i had told her something that meant a lot to me, and she literally just held my hand as we spoke to each other. she is the kindest, most loving person i've ever encountered..like you genuinely feel so safe talking to her and she is so validating. she's a gem! and having followed her since bttf,,means a lot to get to interact with her so often. and she always remembers me which is nice LOL

again, i always have great conversations with jason,,my favorite was the first show after the tonys!!! it wasn't one of the heartfelt convos i've had with him,,i made him something for "growing up" before he even officially announced it and he was so taken aback and appreciative of it,,,it meant soooo much to me! and he came back over to me after he had moved down the line to say thank you again and that it meant a lot. he is such a great person. there's another conversation i had with him in july i think that was meaningful and he was just the best. i encourage everyone to talk to him if he SDs when you're there!!

throwing in josh strobl!!!!!! i love josh strobl! josh is more excited to see me than i am to see josh LOL he's the best and he's so great with remembering people and like,,exact details of a conversation?? he had remembered almost word for word a convo i'd had with him a while ago when i last saw him and it caught me so off guard. but he just is so appreciative of the support and he's soooo funny. he'll always tell me the stresses of whoever he covered that night and it's so fun

lastly (if u made it this far) trevor wayne!! i had told trevor once when i saw him how i had seen one of his earlier pony cover dates and how he just has grown so much in the role since, and he was sooo kind! i went back later that week b/c he let me know he was going to be on,,and i told him i came back at the SD and he remembered and just couldn't believe i actually came back LOL that's when he gave me the hug!! he is someone who is verrrrrry very grateful for support from fans, reminder that it's not easy being a lead role understudy and to always be kind and spread love to the U/S & swings!

[sickfictropes]

this will be unpopular but idc: a ballerina pushing through her last show of the season with a high fever because the understudy hurt her ankle and she'd rather perform with a "cold" (or so she says) than make the understudy potentially hurt herself worse. maybe she collapses in the wings. maybe she misses a lift and falls. maybe she faints on stage under the hot lights during the most taxing part. maybe she makes it through the whole show only to collapse as everyone is congratulates her on her performance.

then there's the whole dilemma of "does she tell anyone?" like does her best friend see through it? does she announce it so no one gets close to her, only to be taken care of from afar? or perhaps she hides it until she can't anymore?

i just love lady sickfic

[jgroffdaily]

A beautiful thread on Twitter/X after the matinee of Merrily We Roll Along today. Lindsay Mendez has been out for the last 10 shows, and today Sherz Aletaha went on as Mary (Jamila Sabares-Klemm as her understudy has been on for all 16 previous occasions Lindsay was out). It was also Sherz's Broadway principal debut.

John Podhoretz@jpodhoretz

I have a story to tell about what happened today at the matinee of Merrily We Roll Along on Broadway. (The production is spectacular, one of the best I've ever seen, and I've seen two previous horrible versions of it.) An understudy went on for the female lead, Lindsay Mendez. 1/

Her name is Sherz Aletaha. And she was great. Really, really great. I've seen many bad or mediocre understudies in my life. She was maybe the best ever. Anyway, there's a scene in the play in which the stars, Daniel Radcliffe and Jonathan Groff, type stuff on a typewriter. 2/

3/ After the curtain call, Groff and Radcliffe and Aletaha came out to make a holiday pitch for a theater charity called Broadway Cares. Radcliffe announced he was auctioning off the piece of paper he and Groff had typed on for charity; they would sign it.

4/ He reported that what Groff had typed on the paper was a profane paean to Aletaha's performance. "F----in Sherz!" Groff had typed. Charmingly, he ran the auction, and got the price of the piece of signed paper up to $1,500, then shouted Sold! The audience erupted.

5/ Radcliffe asked the guy what his name was for him to sign it. And the guy shouted out, "Why don't you just give it to her," meaning Sherz Aletaha. She clamped her hand on her mouth and started to cry. The audience erupted even more wildly.

6/ It was one of the most spontaneous and beautiful acts of kindness I have ever witnessed. Radcliffe and Groff stood there applauding the generous theatergoer, and everyone there--who had just seen a masterpiece of a show already--was transported from the theater in joy. /END

[ineffabildaddy]

so, i saw nye for a third time last night, but with michael sheen's understudy, lee mengo, as the lead. it was a really great exercise to watch both men perform the same role within a short space of time, because it really cemented for me the difference between a good actor and a great actor.

(the theatre didn't announce that michael wouldn't be performing on a handful of dates till after i bought the tickets for that particular show, as far as i'm aware)

lee was good - really, he was. he kept up perfectly, brought his own ad-libs to certain lines, maintained the high energy and the passion necessary for the role. in other words, on paper, he wasn't lacking anything that the role required, but still, he wasn't a patch on michael.

naturally, michael will have had time and resources to really get himself into the role that lee wouldn't've had as the understudy, but the difference between their performances was far larger than that. it took me watching another man play him for me to really understand how much depth michael truly brings to nye bevan. of course, the first two times i went to see the play, i was blown away by the infectious lightheartedness, the moving conviction, the astounding gravitas michael brought to the role, but seeing someone else perform those same lines and those same actions as that same character only cemented further for me how absolutely brilliantly michael brought this role to life. lee landed the jokes, killed it with the physical theatre, brought heavier emotions to the moments that required them, but he didn't achieve what michael achieved - he didn't captivate me, he didn't enthral me.

my mum - who likes michael, knows he's a good actor, but isn't a fan, per se - came to watch the play with me last night, and the first thing she said when the interval started was "i want to see michael do it". then, at the end, i asked her if she had cried during the final scene, and she said, "no, but i know i would have if it had been michael onstage". she also went and booked a ticket to watch a screening of michael in nye on nt live as soon as she got home that evening, despite the fact that she’d just seen the actual show. this is also a testament to the point i'm trying to make here!

i mean no disrespect to lee mengo with this post - i think he had very big shoes to fill and he did a wonderful job. just had to gush for a little while about how brilliant michael is!!!

[aliceisaperson]

I’m really curious what the understudy situation for the show is like, because currently, we have no clue. It’s possible they already have them cast and just haven’t announced them yet, but for Nerdy Prudes, the understudies were announced pretty soon after the original cast. I think it’s a possibility that they get Davis back as an understudy, but I wonder who the female swing is going to be since Virginia can’t come back (currently working in Hamburg as a muse swing for the Hercules Musical). I sincerely hope they already have them cast and we just don’t know who they are yet since rehearsals are starting up.

[fearsmagazine]

SAW THE MUSICAL: THE UNAUTHORIZED PARODY OF SAW Extends Off-Broadway and Announces National Tour.

After an astonishing New York run this Fall, SAW The Musical The Unauthorized Parody of Saw has extended its run Off-Broadway at AMT Theatre (345 West 45th Street) through Jun 23, 2024. It will also kick off a national tour in LA with a six-week run beginning Feb 29 at the Hudson Theatres Mainstage (6539 Santa Monica Blvd, Los Angeles, CA 90038 in Hollywood) SAW The Musical: The Unauthorized Parody began performances Off-Broadway on Sept 16, 2023, with its New York Opening Night on Sunday, Oct 1, 2023, and was called "Hilariously Absurd" by NPR. The run is extended through Jun 23, 2024, in Midtown's Theater District.

Danny Durr as Gordon and Jill Owen

The National Tour stops include Los Angeles, CA (Hudson Theatre Mainstage, Feb 29- Apr 7, 2024 ); San Diego, CA (Tenth Ave Arts Center, April 10 – 28, 2024), Las Vegas, NV (May 1 – 5, 2024), Portland, OR (Alberta Abbey, May 15 – Jun 9, 2024), Greely, CO (Union Colony Civic Center, June 2024), Chicago, IL (Jul 26 – Aug 18, 2024). Exact dates, locations, and tickets can be purchased by visiting www.sawthemusical.com/national-tour.

One of the most thought-provoking horror films of all time now is…a musical. SAW The Musical hilariously captures the events of the first movie, parodying the Saw that started it all, following from where Lawrence Gordon and Adam Stanheight find each other for the first time in the bathroom trap. Will they follow "the rules" as they discover each other's secrets? Will they escape the game in time and saw right through? A love story with fluidity (and lots more fluids), SAW The Musical: The Unauthorized Parody of Saw is Little Shop of Horrors meets Avenue Q, pushing the boundary on sexuality and how to love. [Parental Advisory: Explicit Content]

"SAW The Musical: The Unauthorized Parody of Saw brings the iconic horror film to life on stage with a wickedly funny twist. Now is the perfect time to laugh at the macabre as we blend horror and hair-raising laughter, creating a unique musical experience that's both hilarious and thrilling. Get ready for a love story entangled in traps, secrets, and unexpected humor, pushing the boundaries of entertainment with a dash of explicit fun." Cooper Jordan, Creator, and Producer

Created by Cooper Jordan (DEX! A Killer Musical, The Rat Pack Undead), SAW The Musical has a book by Award -Winning Writer Zoe Ann Jordan (Virtuoso - NYCHFF) and music & lyrics by Patrick Spencer & Anthony De Angelis (An Axemas Story), and directed & choreographed by Tony Award Winner Stephanie Rosenberg (Easter Bunny HOP! LIVE; Co-Producer: Moulin Rouge! The Musical, Anastasia) with music direction by Leigh Pomeranz (DEX! A Killer Musical) and fight direction by Dan Renkin (All My Sons, DEX! A Killer Musical). The Musical is produced by Cooper Jordan, Saw The Musical Parody LLC, Stephanie Rosenberg, Merciful Delusions Productions, Panit Chantranuluck, June Rachelson-Ospa, and more to be announced. Cooper Jordan is the Lead Producer.

SAW The Musical: The Unauthorized Parody of Saw (New York) stars Danny Durr (National Tour: A Christmas Carol, Tony-nominated War Paint) as Gordon, Adam Parbhoo (NY: Home's Kitchen) as Adam, Gabrielle Goodman (NY: Open, Stay) as Amanda/Alli/Jigsaw and Voiceover for Detective Tapp is by the late Donnell Johnson, with Swings & Understudies; Andrew Caira (New York: The Importance of Being Earnestly LGBTQ+, Regional/Tour: Atlantic City Blues Brothers), Patrick Voss Davis (Film: Lucky Louie. Regional: Newsies), James Lynch (New York: Baby Powder), Thomas Skea (Film: Out of Water), Morgan Traud (Regional: Mame), Jessica Morilak ("A Sketch of New York") and Keaton Barry. SAW The Musical's National Tour Casts will be announced in 2024.

For an updated schedule, National Tour tickets or to purchase tickets, please visit SawtheMusical.com.

[jujumin-translates]

★ Main Story | Act 13 - Budding Spring | Chapter 27 - Papa Crisis

Banri: You guys can take a twenty-minute break here. Good work.

Masumi: The KniRoun Stage video is up.

Sakuya: Waah, it is!

Chikage: Lancelot’s pretty eye-catching.

Tsuzuru: He was even working on his sword fighting for KniRoun in between rehearsals. Must’ve been rough.

Banri: Nah, he was havin’ the time of his life, trust me.

Citron: Itaru looks like he is having fun~.

Rento: Ooh~, his overseas debut, huh? Looks like he’s doin’ great.

Rento: Still, absolutely insane as hell that he’s comin’ back here right on openin’ day.

Izumi: It really, truly is…

Izumi: In the past, it would’ve been unthinkable to try and to this, but with the current Spring Troupe, I think we’ll be able to pull this plan, even with it cutting it so close.

Banri: Well, it’d be pretty nice to keep this kinda energy goin’ through openin’ day.

Tsumugi: I hope Itaru-kun was able to get to the airport safely.

Sakuya: It’s about time for his flight, right?

Chikage: Let’s check the chat.

*Phone notification*

Izumi: Ah, I just got a LIME from…

Itaru: “problem, can’t get on my flight, airport’s shut down bc of a strike.”

Tsuzuru: WHAT!?

Sakuya: A strike!? That won’t end any time soon…!

Tsumugi: Sometimes the end soon, but sometimes they go on for days. There’s no telling what will happen…

Banri: What’re we gonna do? I mean, we could get through openin’ day with an understudy, or delay it entirely, but…

Masumi: We considered a lot of factors when we picked the date of opening day. It’s the day that’ll give us the most views with the least competition from other troupes, so moving it should really be our last resort.

Izumi: Right… And refunding tickets would have a huge impact on our votes…

Izumi: We’ll still have to deal with refunds if we go for having an understudy, but the damage with that should be minimal.

Banri: Guess we gotta go with an understudy.

Sakuya: Um, can we at least wait until the very last minute?

Tsuzuru: We want to wait for Itaru-san’s return for as long as we can. Can we at least do that, please?

Izumi: …

Tsumugi: I can be ready to sub in at any time, so don’t worry about it.

Sakuya: Thank you so much!

Chikage: I’m arranging a flight for him at another airport as we speak. With this one, he’ll be able to just barely make it in time for the start of the performance.

Chikage: Someone get into contact with Chigasaki and tell him to hurry to catch the bus.

Tsuzuru: On it!

Tsuzuru: “Itaru-san, please hurry to the nearby airport ASAP!”

Chikage: The next bus is leaving at--.

Citron: “I will give you a lucky chant so you will make it in time!”

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Announcement: “The plane has arrived at Narita Aiport two hours later than scheduled.”

Announcement: “We sincerely apologize for the delay in its arrival due to weather conditions. We offer our deepest condolences to those affected by the delay.”

Itaru: (CITRON used Lucky Chant! The Lucky Chant shielded me from a critical hit…!)

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

UC: Run, Chigasaki.

Itaru: (I am running!)

Saku: You can do it, Itaru-san!

Curry: director said she’s coming to pick you up

taruchi: dw abt it, it’ll be faster if i take a taxi

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Passerby A: Huh, is the line for getting a taxi really this long?

Passerby B: Probably because of a group of tourists~. Let’s just take the train.

Itaru: (Wait, the line for taxis is THIS long? Oh, I’m so screwed…)

Itaru: (Should I ask Director-san to pick me up now?)

Itaru: (But I’m sure she’s busy getting everything ready for the start of the show. Not to mention, even if she comes now, we probably wouldn’t make it back in time for the start of the show anyway--.)

[ ⇠ Previous Part ] • [ Next Part ⇢ ]

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Fan Fiction: Final Part

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.9k

Warnings: canon angst and violence, extra angst

Summary: Not only did Chuck write books about your lives, but a damn musical theater is putting a play on about your goddamn lives. You try to let them handle this one on their own but they're not letting you go, and it's time to bring insurance to make sure you never leave them.

Season Ten Masterlist

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. I love seeing any and all comments <3

x

Marie and Maeve are back in the auditorium but Marie is panicking.

"Hey!" Dean exclaims and rushes over to Marie. "Are you okay?"

"Not really," she gasps.

"Why don't you guys calm her down and I'll find wooden stakes in the trunk."

Sam leaves and Dean kneels down to get on Marie's level.

"Is Marie gonna get eaten?" Maeve asks.

"If we're lucky," you glare.

"Nothing is going to happen. Don't listen to her. Marie, look at me." When she does, he continues. "As soon as that curtain rises, we're going to be there to take out Calliope."

"This is all my fault. If I hadn't written this dumb play, none of this would've happened."

"First of all this play isn't dumb." You open your mouth to say something when Dean glares at you. "It's not dumb."

"I thought you didn't believe in this interpretation?"

"I don't. Like, at all, but you do. I need you to believe in it with all you've got so we can kill Calliope and save your friends. Can you do that?"

"Yeah." She takes a deep breath. "If Sam, Dean, and Y/N were real, they wouldn't back down from a fight. Especially my sweet, brave, selfless Sam. There's nothing he can't do."

"I'm not touching that subject," Dean shakes his head.

"Okay, let's do this!" She grabs a dark wig that the young woman was using who was playing Sam. "I understudy Sam. I used this for my one-woman Orphan Black show, last year. it's gonna have to work for Sam." She puts the wig on her head. "Writer. Director. Actor. I'm gonna Barbra Streisand this bitch."

Guess it's time for a fucking show. People pile into the auditorium once the show is about to begin to see this either rock or go up in flames. The curtains are closed so no one sees what's happening backstage. The girl who plays Dean walks past Dean wearing the amulet that Sam gave him all those years ago. You're not sure what happened to that necklace.

"The Samuelt?" Dean asks Marie.

"That amulet is a symbol of the Winchesters' brotherly love."

Sam comes back with three wooden stakes he's prepared for the fight that will happen. He hands you yours, and you yank it from his grasp angrily. All the girls line up and Sam scans them with a frown.

"Wait a second, where's Chuck?"

"Oh, I love him, I do, but the whole author introducing himself into the narrative thing is just not my favorite. I kind of hate the meta stories," Marie says.

"Alright, listen up, girl," Dean announces. "Now, you're all here because you love Supernatural. I know I have expressed some differences of opinion regarding this particular version of Supernatural. Tonight is all about Marie's vision. This is Marie's Supernatural. So, I want you to get out there, I want you to stand as close as she wants you to, and I want you to put as much sub and add text as you possibly can. There is no other road. No other way. No day, but today."

"Did he quote Rent?" Maeve whispers to Marie.

"Now, you get out there, and you kick it in the ass!"

The girls cheer from the pep talk and encourage each other. They all separate to either go backstage or on stage as they get ready. You and Dean stand on one side of the stage while Sam stands on the other side, all with stakes in hand. Marie slips through the curtain to address the audience.

"This is stupid," you hiss at Dean.

"Shut up and keep an eye out."

"Good evening, everybody! Welcome to our production of Supernatural. I'm not gonna lie. It might be a full-on Gallagher show opening up this piece. Uh, those of you in the front rows may want to use the ponchos we provided for you under your seats. You may, in fact, get wet on this ride. Um, I would like to thank the cast and crew--"

"She's stalling. Let's do this," Dean says to Maeve.

"Copy that. Curtain, kids. It's showtime."

The music starts playing, making Marie jump in surprise.

"That concludes our introduction for the night. Everybody sit back, relax, and enjoy the show."

Marie scurries on stage as the curtains open. The beginning number of singing your life introduction sounds and the girl who plays Dean steps forward. The song you heard when you first arrived starts playing, and she goes through the song about how John and Mary got together, had Sam and Dean, your mother dying, blah, blah, blah.

Dean seems to be enjoying the song while you're absentmindedly playing at the thing on your neck. You can't fucking believe Dean did this. When did he have time to search for something like this? Has he been planning this for a while? Was Sam in on it? You look over at Sam in time to see the big scary scarecrow appear behind him. Apparently, Dean sees it too because he starts warning his brother who is confused.

"Turn around!" Dean yells slightly lower than the music playing. Sam turns to face the scarecrow who grabs him. This is all happening while the girls on stage act and sing. "Come on."

"Do we have to," you complain. Dean drags you along backstage to get to where Sam is, but the younger brother is nowhere to be found once you get to his spot. "Where the hell did he go?"

The first act ends and goes straight into the next one where Fake!Dean and Fake!Cas are having a conversation on fake phones.

"Okay, you can pop in tomorrow morning."

"Yes. I'll just wait here, then," Fake!Cas sighs.

Another song starts playing which is a solo moment for the girl who plays Cas. You and Dean rush over to Marie who is already backstage. Apparently, she saw the moment Sam was taken.

"What do we do now?" she panics.

"Just, stick to the plan, okay? Keep singing until the scarecrow comes for you."

"Don't die, okay?" you grin and pat her back as you walk away from her.

Marie walks on stage as soon as Cas' part is over so she can begin singing her part as Sam. She is nervous about what's about to happen but is acting like a professional. The scarecrow appears behind Marie to consume her, and that's when Dean jumps into action. He jumps onto the scarecrow, forgetting he's on stage in front of a large audience. Both Fake!Sam and Fake!Dean keeps singing as if this isn't happening behind them. You look to the audience to see one of the members in the front row put his poncho on.

The scarecrow and Dean wrestle before the monster throws Dean across the stage over to you. He slides right in front of your feet, and Dean glares up at you.

"Help!"

"Fine," you roll your eyes.

You twirl the stake in your hands as you walk onto the stage. You're not fucking scared of this thing. You'll fucking take it down before it realizes what's going on. The scarecrow runs at you to tackle you but you quickly move out of the way before he can touch you.

"Missed me!" you laugh.

You jump onto the scarecrow's back to strangle him but he grabs both your arms in retaliation. He uses all of his immense strength to flip you over him and to the front of the stage. You quickly get up and ram your stake into his chest. You turn him so his back is facing the audience and yours is facing the backdrop of the set. You step back from the scarecrow when you see it start to tremble.

The scarecrow explodes in a purple goo substance, covering almost everyone in the audience. A bit of goo gets on your jacket to which you huff out in annoyance. You walk toward Dean and shove the stake into his chest.

"You're welcome," you scoff and walk off.

Silence falls on the audience until the guy wearing the poncho stands up and begins clapping. Everyone in the audience follows suit, and Dean steps next to a starstruck Marie.

"Take a bow, Sammy."

Marie, Dean, and Fake!Dean takes a bow for the audience. It's a good time to take an intermission for the rest of the crew to get ready for the final act. Sam suddenly appears with Ms. Chandler and the other young girl who went missing. It's time to finally get out of this shitty town and back to the Bunker, so Sam and Dean are saying their goodbyes.

"You did good out there, kid," Dean says to Marie.

"You're not so bad yourself."

"You know what? This has been educational to see the story from your perspective. Keep writing Shakespeare."

"Even if it doesn't match how you see it?"

"I have my version, and you have yours."

The light starts flickering to signal it's almost time to go on again.

"One minute, folks. One minute," Maeve announces.

You and Dean walk away from Marie, but she stops him from going far.

"Dean?" She must believe you're who you say you are. "You should have never thrown this away."

She gives him the prop Samulet he noticed earlier. Dean chuckles as he takes it, and he admires it.

"It never really worked. I don't need a symbol to remind me how I feel about my brother."

"Just take it. Jerk."

"Bitch," Dean automatically says.

He quickly realizes it's not Sam he's talking to and blushes in embarrassment. Marie laughs at him before turning to you.

"Y/N, look, I don't know what's going on with you, but the Y/N I read about has a love so strong for Dean that nothing can break it. I just thought you'd want a reminder of it."

You take two steps closer to her before Dean has a chance to do something.

"The last thing I'd want to remember is my lame-ass excuse of a husband."

You turn and walk away, not missing the way Dean's eyes fill with sadness and hurt. What you're saying to him and about him is really hurting him, and that fact brings a smirk to your face. Dean pushes back the tears and walks to Sam.

"You know what, Dean? You were right. Staying cooped up isn't helping us. We need--"

It's as if the universe aligned perfectly because the next scene starts with Fake!Sam and Fake!Dean in the car. They're having a conversation that perfectly fits with what Sam was about to say.

"We need to get back on the road, Dean. Doing what we do best."

"What is that?" Marie asks.

"You're right, Sammy. Out on the road. Just the two of us."

"The two of us against the world," Fake!Sam says.

"What she said," Sam smiles and nudges his brother.

The scene moves onto a different one where all the characters get on stage to sing a cover of Carry On Wayward Son. Characters you know in real life. A girl steps on stage that you're not sure you recognize, but when you do, a smirk grows on your face.

"Who's that?" Sam asks Maeve.

"That's Adam. John Winchester's other kid. He's still trapped in the cage in Hell with Lucifer."

Poor son of a bitch.

"Carry on my wayward son / There'll be peace when you are done / Lay your weary head to rest / Don't you cry no more / Once I rose above the noise and confusion / Just to get a glimpse behind this illusion / I was soaring ever higher."

The song continues as Sam and Dean watch with raw emotion in their eyes.

"Masquerading as a man with the reason / My charade is the event of the season / And if I claim to be a wise man / It surely means I don't know / Carry on my wayward son / There'll be peace when you are done / Lay your weary head to rest / Don't you cry no more / Carry on."

You grab both of their shoulders and fit your head between theirs so they both can hear you above the singing.

"I am so glad I don't have a soul because that was painful to watch."

When you leave, Dean turns to Sam with tears in his eyes.

"Purifying her soul better work because I need my wife back."

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[schmergo]

Reading headlines about professional theatre these past few years is an absolute wild ride. Maybe all this stuff was happening before the pandemic, but I never heard about it. Now every two seconds, it's something like this:

"Inspiring! 'Retired' Broadway actress stars as Elphaba in Broadway with no rehearsal after 8 years away from the theatre working as a biologist in Antarctica... and she's never even SEEN Wicked before!"

"The Show Must Go On! Tony-winning actor announces that he performed at the Tony awards on a broken leg, will be taking two days off to have it treated"

"The Zodiac Killer to join the cast of Chicago as Roxie Hart! He will be wearing a bag over his head at all performances to hide his identity, but we are training AI to recognize his voice patterns"

"Audience wowed by all-understudy performance of Sweeney Todd with the role of the Beadle eliminated entirely and Johanna played by the French horn player from the pit"

"Previously announced production of NAPOLEON! THE MUSICAL to be canceled two days before scheduled opening after playwright pulled rights due to 'unauthorized changes' and 'offensive casting.' Director defends choice to have a chimpanzee play the title role."

"After 147 years, beloved local theatre company announces closure due to ongoing poison-resistant ant infestation. Site to become a research lab about these spectacular ants!"

"5 billion dollar new AI-written Broadway musical BABY SHARK to close after 2 performances, both of which took place on a partial set because it wasn't finished yet"

"After 109 years, beloved local theatre company canceling their 2023-2024 season because they only got 2 sales and that was from the artistic director's mom and her next-door neighbor Debra (who drives)."

"Shocking! Artistic director of beloved local theatre exposed! Actors report seeing multiple interns and swings sacrificed to a minotaur living in the boiler room during his time at the theatre.'

"Beloved local theatre company announces new membership structure! Top membership tier (names engraved on lobby wall, premium seats for whole season, free admission to exclusive parties and events) will consist of donors who gave full or partial organs to our uninsured non-union actors!"

"Onward and upward! Phantom of the Opera now spotted living under Shake Shack!"

[throwing-in-the-towel]

...i don't think ive ever seen a fandom go wilder over the announcement of an understudy performance and yk what? im here for it, yes, GO WILD FOR THE COVERS AT A SHOW !!!!

i love it so much!!! the energy that goes into supporting this cast is unreal 🥹🩷

[bestmusicalworldcup]

The drag-ball reimagining of Cats (officially titled Cats: The Jellicle Ball) now has its full cast with the following newly announced cast members: Xavier Reyes as Jennyanydots, Bebe Nicole Simpson as Demeter, and Dava Huesca as Rumpleteazer, along with understudy Shelby Griswold.

Previously announced cast members from the world of ballroom include Baby as Victoria, Dudney Joseph Jr. as Munkustrap, Capital Kaos as DJ, Junior LaBeija as Gus, Robert "Silk" Mason as Mistoffelees, "Tempress" Chasity Moore as Grizabella, and Primo as Tumblebrutus, along with understudies Dominique Lee and Kendall G. Stroud.

Previously announced musical theatre and dance names in the company include Jonathan Burke as Mungojerrie, Emma Sofia Caymares as Skimbleshanks, André De Shields as Old Deuteronomy, Sydney James Harcourt as Rum Tum Tugger, Antwayn Hopper as Macavity, Shereen Pimentel as Jellylorum, Nora Schell as Bustopher Jones, Garnet Williams as Bombalurina, and Teddy Wilson Jr. as Sillabub. Rounding out the company will be ensemble members Tara Lashan Clinkscales and Frank Viveros.

The production is directed by Zhailon Levingston and Bill Rauch.

Performances begin June 13 at the Perelman Performing Arts Center, with opening night set for June 20. Closing night is July 14.