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layce2015 · 11 months

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Supernatural (Dean Winchester x Female!Reader)

Tall Tales

Masterlist

(A/N: So since this episode likes to flashback and through different point of views as they explain what happened to Bobby, here's what I'm gonna do. The bold paragraphs are gonna be in Dean's point of view. The italics paragraph are gonna be in (y/n)'s point of view. The bold italics paragraph are gonna be Sam's point of view. I forgot how crazy this episode is until I watched it the other day and this was the best way of writing it I could think of. Anyway, that is all and I hope you guys enjoy!)

Sam and I were sitting on the couch, looking through books, when he rubs his face tiredly. Dean was sitting up on the bed behind us, listening to the radio and eating from a disposable plate. "Dude. You mind not eating those on MY bed?" Sam asked, annoyed. "No, I don't mind." Dean said as he continues to eat.

"How's research going?" He asked us and I sighed in annoyance. "You know how it's going? Slow. You know how it would go a heck of a lot faster? If (y/n) and I had our computers." Sam shouted at him and Dean nods, sarcastically.

"Can you turn that down please?" I asked him, gesturing towards the radio. "Yeah, absolutely." Dean said and he turns the music up louder and I sit still, annoyed again. "You know what? Maybe, uh, maybe you should just go somewhere for a while." I said to him and he shuts off the radio and looks up, snappish. "Hey, I'd love to. That's a great idea. Unfortunately, my car's all screwed to hell." He said as he glares at me. "Dean, I told you, I have nothing to do wi—" I started to explain when I was cut off by a loud knock on the door.

Sam stands and goes to the door; he looks through the peephole and then back at us, then opens the door. "Hey, Bobby." Sam said as Bobby comes through the door. "Boys. (Y/n)." He greets and Dean and I approach him. "Hey, Bobby." We greet.

"It's good to see you again so soon." Bobby said. "Yeah, uh, thanks for coming. Come on in." Sam said as Dean shakes Bobby's hand, firmly. "Thank God you're here." Dean said. "So um, what didn't you want to talk to me on the phone about?" Bobby asked. "It's this job we're working. We— We weren't sure you'd believe us." I said and Bobby scoffs. "Well, I can believe a lot." He said.

"Yeah, no, no, it's just, we've never seen anything like it—" Sam said as I shake my head. "Not even close." Dean said. "And we thought we could use some fresh eyes." I said and Bobby looks between us. "Well, why don't you begin at the beginning?" He asked.

"Yeah, um, all right." Sam said and he gestures to the bed. Bobby picks up the empty takeout tray and peers at it, sets it aside, and sits down. "So, it all started when we caught wind of an obit. See, a professor took a nosedive from a fourth story window, only there's a campus legend that the building's haunted. So we pretexted as reporters from the local paper." Sam begins to explain.

Sam and (y/n) were sitting at a table with a stocky jock boy, Curtis, and an attractive girl, Jen. Sam sets a voice recorder down on the table before they began the interview. "Yeah, we both had the professor for Ethics and Morality." Curtis said.

"Yeah? So why do you think he did it?" (Y/n) asked them. "Who knows? I mean, he was tenured, wife and kids. His book is like a really big deal. Then again..." Jen said then she leans in conspiratorially. "Who's to say it was suicide?" She asked, making her friend scoff. "Jen, come on." said Curtis.

"Well, what else could it be?" Sam asked, feigning surprise. "Well, you guys know about Crawford Hall?" Jen asked Sam and (y/n). "No, we don't, actually." (Y/n) replied. "It's a bunch of crap, it's a total urban legend." Curtis said. "Yeah well, Heather's mom went to school here, and she knew the girl?" Jen said and Sam and (y/n) look between the kids.

"Wait, what girl?" (Y/n) asked. "Thirty years ago, this girl was having an affair with some professor. He broke it off, she jumped out the window and killed herself." Jen replied. "You know her name?" Sam asked. "No. But they say she jumped from room six-six-nine. Get it? You turn the nine upside down?" Jen said, snickering, and Sam and (y/n) nod while Curtis laughs.

"So now she haunts the building. And anyone who sees her? They don't live to tell the tale." Jen explains. "Well if no one lives to tell the tale, then how does the tale get told?" Curtis asked. "Curtis! Shut up!" Jen yells.

"You know what, uh – Thanks a lot guys. Excuse us." Sam said and he nods at (y/n) and they get up.

Elsewhere in the bar, Dean picks up one of the three shot glasses, filled with dark bluish-purple liquid, then slams all three in succession. Sam and (y/n) approaches. "Dean. Dean, what are you drinking?" Sam asked as Dean burps. "I don't know, man, I think they're called purple nurples?" Dean replied, chuckling.

"Okay, well listen. Sam and I were thinking maybe we should go check out the professor's office." (Y/n) said to him. "Oh, no, no, no, no, no, no I can't right now, I've got some feisty little wildcat on the hook, I'm about to – zzzzp – reel her in. I'll introduce you guys." Dean said and a heavily made up blonde girl, sloppily drunk and wearing fishnet stockings and a tight miniskirt, walks up behind him.

"Dean—" Sam and (y/n) said, exasperated. "Starla! Starla, hey. These are my shuttle co-pilots Major Tom and Major Val. Major Tom and Val, Starla." Dean introduced as Starla draps an arm around Dean "Enchanté." She said, smiling. "Hi." Sam and (y/n) greet, unsure.

Starla begins to gag, cover her mouth, then looks up grinning. Sam and (y/n) look really skeptical and dubious at her. "Sorry. Just trying to keep my liquor down!" She said, laughing. "Yeah! Good job." Dean said to hef then he turns to Sam, confidentially. "Hey. Good news. She's got a sister." He said and he leans back into Starla's arm again, both of them grinning suggestively.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold on a minute." Dean said. "What?" Sam asked. "Come on, dude, that's not how it happened." Dean said to him. "No? So you never drank a purple nurple?" I asked him. "Yeah, maybe that, but I don't say things like feisty little wildcat. And her name wasn't Starla." Dean said, offended.

"Then what was it?" Sam asked him and Dean sits there and thinks. "I don't know." He said then he turns to Bobby. "But she was a classy chick. She was a grad student, anthropology and folklore. We were talking about local ghost stories." He said as Bobby listens.

The girl, now wearing black heels and a sleek black cocktail dress, and Dean each hold a purple nurple and toast with them. "Here's to..." the girl said until Dean finishes it. "Here's to us." He said and they toast. "My God, you are attractive." The girl compliments.

"Thanks. But no time for that now. You need to tell me about this urban legend. Please. Lives are at stake." Dean said to her. "Sorry, I just...can't even concentrate. It's like staring...into the sun." She said then she reaches up and pulls his head towards her for a slow kiss.

Sam approaches behind them with an extremely dubious expression and his jacket slung over his shoulder. "Dean! What do you think you're doing?" He asked in an exaggerated prissy tone and Dean breaks away from the kiss to turn to his brother.

"Sam, please. If you wouldn't mind, give me five minutes here." He said in a very smooth and casual voice. "Dean, this is a very serious investigation. We don't have any time for any of your blah blah blah blah. Blah blah blah blah. Blah blah blah Blah!" Sam said and Dean leans into kiss the girl again as Sam continues blabidiblahing behind him.

"Right! And that's how it really happened." Sam said, sarcastically, as Dean shrugs. "I don't sound like that, Dean!" Sam shouts. "That's what you sound like to me." Dean said and I scoff. "And where was I, smart guy?" I asked him. "Probably hooking up with a guy at the bar." Dean said, shrugging, and my jaw drops slightly. "Oh, is that what you think of me?!" I asked, angrily.

"Okay. What's going on with you three?" Bobby asked us. "Nothing. No— it's nothing." Sam replied, quickly. "No, come on. You're bickering like an old married couple but with three people." Bobby said as Dean gets up and crosses over to the kitchenette. "No, see married couples can get divorced. Me and these two, we're like, uh, Siamese triplets." Dean said.

"It's conjoined triplets!" I shouted af him, annoyed. "See what I mean?" Dean said and I rolled my eyes. "Look, it, we've just been on the road for too long. Tight quarters, all that. Don't worry about it." Sam said to Bobby after he let's out a sigh. "Okay." Bobby said, still concerned but continues to listen.

"So anyway. We figured it might be a haunting, so we went to check out the scene of the crime." I explained.

The Janitor lets Sam, (y/n) and Dean, now posing as electricians, into the professor's office. "So, how long've you been working here?" Sam asked. "I've been mopping this floor for six years." the janitor replied as he turns on a light as the four walk into the professor's office. "There you go, guys." He said and hd sees Sam's EMF reader.

"What the heck's that for?" He asked. "Just find a wire in the walls." Sam said. "Huh. Wow. Not sure why you're wiring up this office. Not gonna do the professor much good." said the Janitor. "Why's that?" Dean asked. "He's dead." The janitor said, bluntly.

"Oh. What happened?" (Y/n) asked. "He went out that window. Right there." the janitor said as he points at the window behind the desk. "Yeah? Were you working that night?" Sam asked. "I'm the one who found him." said the janitor.

"You see it happen?" (Y/n) asked as Dean sees a bowl of nuts on the side table and eats one. "Nope. I just saw him come up here, and uh...well." the janitor said as he grimaced. "What?" Sam asked. "He wasn't alone." The janitor said as Dean comes up next to (y/n), his cheeks stuffed with nuts and he was holding the bowl.

"Who was he with?" Dean asked, muffled.

"Come on! I ate one, maybe two!" Dean yells at me and I roll my eyes again. "Just let me tell it, okay?" I said and Dean scoffs at me.

"He was with a young lady. I told the cops about her, but uh, I guess they never found her." The janitor said. "You saw this girl go in, huh? But did you ever see her come out?" Sam asked him. "Now that you mention it, no." The janitor said, slightly shocked. "You ever see her before, around?" (Y/n) asked. "Well, not her." he said.

"What do you mean?" Dean asked, his mouth still full of nuts, and Sam and (y/n) glare at him. "I don't mean to cast aspersions on a dead guy, but uh...Mister Morality here? He brought a lot of girls up here. Got more ass than a toilet seat." The janitor said and Dean, laughs delightedly, while Sam glares and (y/n) runs her hands over her eyes and the Janitor grins.

"One more thing. This building, it only has four stories, right?" Sam asked. "Yeah." replied the Janitor. "So there wouldn't be a room six-six-nine?" Sam asked him. "'Course not. Why do you ask?" The janitor asked. "Aw, just curious. Thanks." Sam said as Dean chews with his mouth open, stuffed full of nuts.

The trio return to the hotel and Sam and (y/n) sit at the table; Dean gets a beer out of the fridge for each of them. "Well, no traces of EMF, that's for sure." Sam said, disappointed. "And the room six-six-nine's a load of crap." Dean said. "So what do you think? The professor's just a jumper? A legend's just a legend?" (Y/n) asked. "I don't know. I mean, the uh, girl the janitor described, that's pretty weird." Dean said.

"Yeah." Sam and (y/n) said, in unison.

"We oughta check out the history of the building. See if any co-ed ganked herself there." Dean said as he heads to the bathroom. "Yeah, you're right." I said as Sam opens up his laptop, then stares at the screen, confused. "Dude. Were you on my computer?" He asked and Dean comes back out of the bathroom, confused.

"No." Dean said. "Oh really? 'Cause it's frozen now. On uh, Bustyasianbeauties.com." Sam said. Dean thinks for a moment, frowns, winces, and retreats. "Dean! Would you – just – don't touch my stuff anymore, okay?" Sam shouts at him. "Why don't you control your O.C.D.?" Dean calls out to him.

"But did you dig up anything about the building? Or on the suicidal co-ed?" Bobby asked us. "No. History's clean." Sam said. "Then it's not a haunting." Bobby said. "Maybe not. Tell you the truth, we're not really sure." I said to him.

"What do you mean, you're not sure?" Bobby asked. "Well...it's weird." Sam said. "What's weird?" Bobby asked. "This next part, we uh, we didn't see it happen ourselves exactly, but it's pretty friggin weird. Even for us." Dean said.

Curtis walks alone through the campus when he hears a noise. He turns, startled, then keeps walking, laughing at himself when he hears another noise and stops, looking straight up. He walks more carefully, hands in pockets.

Suddenly a bright light whooshes on overhead and he cringes, arms over his head. He starts running, but trips and falls; a bright beam of light shoots down and grabs him like a tractor beam, pulling him up. He screams and flails.

"Aliens?" Bobby asked, confused. "Yeah." Dean said as we give Bobby the I told you so look. "Look, even if they are real, they're sure as hell not coming to earth and swiping people." Bobby said to us. "Hey, believe me. We know." I said.

"My whole life I've never found evidence of an honest-to-God abduction. It's all just cranks and pranks." Bobby said. "Yeah, that's what we thought. But...we figured we'd at least talk to the guy." Sam said.

Dean and (y/n) were seated next to Curtis, who has three full shot glasses lined up in front of him. Sam is standing nearby as Curtis takes a shot. "Hey, you ought to give those purple nurples a shot." Dean said and (y/n) punches his arm, making him shut up.

"So, what happened, Curtis?" (Y/n) asked him. "You won't believe me. Nobody does." Curtis said, upset. "Give us a chance." Sam said and Curtis looks down and sighs. "I do not want this in the papers." He said to us. "Off the record, then." Dean said and Curtis nods.

"I, uh...I blacked out, and...I lost time, and when I woke up, I don't know where I was." Curtis said and he explains how he was on a medical table, bright lights shining on him then seeing the face of an alien appearing above him.

"Then what?" Sam asked as he sits down. "They did tests on me. And, uh..." Curtis stammers then takes another shot. "They, uh...They probed me." He said and Sam turns his face away, struggling not to laugh, while (y/n) raises an eyebrow at him.

"They probed you?" Dean asked Curtis. "Yeah, they probed me. Again and a— Again and – And again." Curtis said then he takes another shot. "And again and again and again... And then one more time." He said.

"Yikes." Dean mutters. "And that's not even the worst of it." Curtis said. "How could it get any worse? Some alien made you his bitch." (Y/n) said and her and Dean smirk until Curtis glares at them.

"They...They made me...Slow dance!" Curtis exclaims and the trio exchange confused but shock looks.

"You guys are exaggerating again, huh?" Bobby asked us. "No no." I said, shaking my head. "Then this frat boy's just nuts." Bobby said. "We're not so sure." Dean said.

The trio stand over a large, perfectly round scorch mark in the ground. "I'm telling you, Dean, This was made by some kind of jet engine." Sam said. "You mean some saucer-shaped jet engine?" Dean asked him. "What else could it be?" (y/n) asked as the three look at the mark and try to think.

"What the hell?" Dean asked. "I don't know." Sam and (y/n) said. "Seriously, guys– What the hell?" Dean asked, confused. "I don't know." Sam said, shrugging. "I mean, first the haunting. Now this? The timing alone – There's got to be some kind of connection." (Y/n) said, as she thinks. "You mean between the angry spirit and the sexed-Up E.T.? What could the connection possibly be?" Dean asked.

"But what could we do? So we just kept on digging." Dean said to Bobby and he continues with the story.

"So, you and this guy, Curtis – You were in the same house?" (Y/n) asked this other kid after the three meet up with him. "Yeah." The kid said. "You heard what happened to him, right?" Dean asked. "Yeah, he says it was aliens, but, you know, whatever." the kid said.

"Look, man, I – I know this all has to be so hard." Sam said in an exaggerated concern. "Um, not so much." the kid said. "But I want you to know...I'm here for you. You brave little soldier. I acknowledge your pain. Come here." Sam said and he grabs the kid in a hug. "You're too precious for this world." He said, softly.

"I never said that!" Sam shouts at Dean. "You're always saying pansy stuff like that." Dean said and I shake my head.

"Well, um...Yeah, uh, thanks." The kid said and Sam releases him. "Thanks for the hug, but, uh, I'm okay. Really. To tell you the truth, whatever happened to Curtis, he had it coming." The kid said.

"Why is that?" Dean asked him. "He's our pledge master. Put us through hell this semester, and got off on it. So now he knows how we feel." The kid replied and Sam keeps giving a worried and concerned look at the kid. "It's okay." Dean said.

"Still doesn't make a lick of sense. But, hey, at least there's one connection." Dean said as the three return to the hotel. "Between what?" (Y/n) asked. "The victims. The professor and the frat guy – They're both dicks." Dean replied.

"That's a connection?" Sam asked. "You got anything better to go on, I'd love to hear it." Dean said as (y/n) looks in her bag. "Where's my laptop?" She asked. "I don't know." Dean said as (y/n) continues to search, getting more frustrated.

"Think about it. A philandering professor gets a dead girl. A pledge master gets hazed." Dean said. "I left it in here." (Y/n) said as she continues to look for her laptop, Sam helps her. "You obviously didn't. I mean, these punishments—they're almost poetic. Actually, it'd be more like a limerick, but still–" Dean said and (y/n) approaches Dean.

"Okay, hilarious. Ha ha. Where'd you hide it?" She asked, annoyed. "What, your computer?" Dean asked. "Yeah, where'd you hide it?" She asked. "Why would I take your computer?" Dean asked her.

"Because no one else could have, Dean! We keep the door locked. We never let any maids in." (Y/n) yells. "Looks like you lost it, Poindexter." Dean mutters.

"Dude, you know something? We put up with a lot from you." Sam yells. "What are you talking about? I'm a joy to be around." Dean said. "Yeah? Your dirty socks in the sink, your food in the fridge." (Y/n) yells.

"What's wrong with my food?" Dean asked. "It's not food anymore, Dean! It's Darwinism. All we ask from you, the one thing, is that you don't mess with mine and (y/n)'s stuff!" Sam yells and Dean just stares at him. "You done?" Dean asked.

"You know, how would you feel if I screwed with the Impala?" (Y/n) asked him and Dean glares at her. "It'd be the last thing you ever did." He said in a low voice.

"Did you take her computer?" Bobby asked Dean. "Serves her right, but, no." Dean said. "Well, I didn't lose it. 'Cause I don't lose things." I said to him, angrily. "Oh, that's right, yeah, 'cause she's Lil' Miss Perfect." Dean said and I scoff. "And I didn't take it either. In fact, my laptop is missing as well." Sam said.

"Well I didn't take that either!" Dean said and Bobby shakes his head. "Okay, okay. Why don't you just tell me what happened next?" Bobby asked us. "There was one more victim." Dean said. "Right. Now, we, we didn't see this one ourselves, either. We kind of put it together from the evidence. But this guy – He was, uh, he was a research scientist. Animal testing." Sam explains.

"Yeah, you know – a dick. Which fits the pattern." Dean said.

The Research Scientist leaves a campus building, heading towards the street when he sees something shiny in the gutter and stops. He looks around cautiously, then gets down on hands and knees to see it better. It is a gold watch. He smiles and looks excited.

He gets all the way down and sticks and arm through the gutter bars, trying to reach it. He struggles when something grabs him. He begins screaming and struggling as blood spatters on his face.

"Cops didn't release the cause of death 'cause they had no clue what the cause was." Dean explains to Bobby. "So, we checked it ourselves." Sam said and we continue.

After opening the window to a building, Sam crawls through the window. "Hey." Dean said and he tosses his flashlight to Sam, then climbs through and helps (y/n) through before he shuts the window.

Dean opens a body drawer and shines his light through, he grimaces. "Well, this oughta be quick." He said as they slide the drawer out and gingerly peel off the bloody blanket, revealing extremely mangled remains.

"OK, that is just nasty." (Y/n) said, disgusted, as Sam holds his hand to his mouth and nose. "Uh, yeah." He said, speaking muffled while trying not to breathe through his nose. "Mutilated?" Dean said. "Looks to me like something was hungry." (y/n) said.

"They identify him yet?" Dean asked. "Yeah, uh, a research scientist at the college. Guess where his office was, by the way. Crawford Hall, same as the professor." Sam said. "That's right where the frat boy had his close encounter." Dean said. "Yeah. Hey, grab me that thing, would you?" Sam asked and Dean slides a magnifying light over to Sam, who peers through it at the corpse. "Thanks." Sam said as he looks through the corpse.

"What is it?" Dean asked. "Looks like a...A belly scale?" Sam said, confused. "A belly scale? From what?" (y/n) asked. "Uh...An alligator?" Sam replied and Dean and (y/n) look at him, confused.

"An alligator in the sewer. Come on." Dean said. "What? Well, Dean, it's a classic urban legend. A kid flushes a baby gator down the toilet, and it grows huge in the tunnels." Sam said. "But no one's ever really found one. I mean, th – they're not real." (Y/n) said. "Well, neither's alien abduction, but something chomped on this guy." Sam said and Dean shakes his head.

"This couldn't get any weirder." Dean mutters. "Maybe we should get some help. I'll call Bobby. Maybe he's run into something like this before." Sam said. "Oh, I'm sure he has. Just your typical haunted campus, alien abduction, alligator-in-the-sewer gig. Yeah, it's simple." Dean said with sarcasm.

"We decided to search the sewer anyway, so we split up, each taking one end of campus." I said. "D'you find anything?" Bobby asked. "Yeah, I found something, just not in the sewer." Dean said.

Dean emerges from the sewer and enteres the alley where the Impala is parked. All four tires are flat. "Son of a bitch!" He exclaims in anger. He circles the car and finds a money clip on the ground, engraved with (your initials). "(y/n)!" Dean growls.

Back at the hotel, Sam and (y/n) were reading some books as Dean enters. "You think this is funny, (y/n)?" Dean asked, angrily, and she looks up at him, confused. "It depends. What?" she asked. "Th-th-th-the car!" Dean said, angrily.

"What about the car?" (y/n) asked as Sam looks between his friend and his brother. "You can't let the air out of the tires, you idiot. You're gonna bend the rims!" Dean yells. "Whoa, wait a minute. I didn't go near your car." She said, getting angry.

"Oh, yeah? Huh. Then how'd I find this?" Dean asked as he holds up the money clip. (Y/n) pats her pocket then she stands up. "Hey. Give me back my money!" She demands. "Oh, no, no. Consider it reparations. For, uh, emotional trauma." Dean said as (y/n) comes up to him.

"Yeah, very funny. Now, give it back." She said and she reaches for it. "No." Dean said, firmly, as he holds the money up and away from her. "Dean, c'mon!" Sam said, annoyed.

"Dean, I have had it up to here with you." (Y/n) said, angrily. "Yeah? Right back at you!" He spat at her. (Y/n) reaches for the money again; Dean avoids her. Sam then goes to grab it but Dean avoids him then (y/n) tackles him to the bed. They scuffle and fight like kids.

"Come on! Get off me!" Dean yells at her. "Give it back!" (y/n) shouts and Sam tries to help and the three begin to fight and scuffle.

"Okay, I've heard enough." Bobby said, interrupting. "You showed up about an hour after that." Dean said. "I'm surprised at you three. I really am. Sam...(y/n), first off, Dean did not steal your computers." Bobby said to us. "But I –" Sam started to say but Bobby holds out his hand to him.

"Shh, shh, shh, shh! And, Dean, (y/n) did not touch your car." He said to Dean. "Yeah!" I sneered at Dean as I look at him. "And if you three bothered to pull your heads outta your asses, it all would have been pretty clear." Bobby said. "What?" Dean asked.

"What you're dealing with." Bobby said and we look at him, confused. "I got nothing." Dean said. "Me neither." Sam said. "Same here." I said.

"You got a trickster on your hands." Bobby said and Dean snaps his fingers. "That's what I thought." Dean said. "What?! No, you didn't." Sam shouts at him.

"I got to tell you...you guys were the biggest clue." Bobby said. "What do you mean?" I asked him. "These things create chaos and mischief as easy as breathing, and it's got you so turned around and at each other's throats, you can't even think straight." Bobby said to us.

"The laptops." Sam said.

"The tires." Dean mutters.

"It knows you're onto him, and it's been playing you like fiddles." Bobby said. "So, what is it, what, what, spirit, demon, what?" I asked him. "Well, more like demigods, really. There's Loki in Scandinavia. There's Anansi in West Africa. Dozens of them. They're immortal, and they can create things out of thin air. Things as real as you and me. Make them vanish just as quick." Bobby replied.

"You mean like an angry spirit or an alien or an alligator." Dean said and Bobby nods. "The victims fit the M.O., too. Tricksters target the high and the mighty, knock them down a peg, usually with a sense of humor – deadly pranks, things like that." Bobby said.

"Bobby, what do these things look like?" I asked him. "Lots of things, but human, mostly." Bobby said. "And what human do we know who's been at ground zero this whole time?" Dean asked and Sam and I frown, thinking and then I come to the realization.

It was the Janitor.

The Janitor locks a gate with a key attached to his belt as the boys and I follow him up a staircase. "Sorry I'm dragging a little ass today, guys. Had quite the night last night." He said as he turns to look at them. "Lots of sex, if you catch my drift." He said, chuckling.

"Yeah, hard not to. Listen, we won't be long." Dean said then the Janitor turns his back to us and Dean signals to me. "We just need to check a couple offices up on three." Dean said. "No problem." The janitor said. "I, uh, forgot something in the truck. You know what? I'll catch up with you guys." I said to them. "Okay." Sam and Dean said and they turn and begin ascending the stairs again.

I wait until they're out of sight, then hurried back to the locked gate. I pull out my lockpicking tools and begin to pick the lock. Moments later, I enter and rummages through the lockers until I find a copy of the Weekly World News, with the headline Aliens Abduct Cheerleaders, in one of the lockers.

Later, after meeting up with them, the boys and I exit the building. "Just 'cause he reads the Weekly World News doesn't mean he's our guy. I mean, you guys read it, too." Sam said to me and Dean. "I'm telling you, it's him." Dean argues.

"Look, I just think we need some hard proof. That's all." Sam said to us. "Okay, another thing Bobby mentioned was that these suckers have a metabolism like an insect, a real sweet tooth." Dean said. "Well, I didn't find any candy bars or sugar. Not even Equal." I said. "Eh, that's probably 'cause you missed something." Dean said to me.

"I don't miss things." I said, firmly. "Oh, right, 'cause you're Miss Perfect." Dean growls. "What? Are you really still pissed at me 'cause of what the trickster did?" I asked him. "You been a tight ass long before that trickster showed up." Dean grumbles and Sam and I stare at him

"Look, just...stay here, keep an eye on the janitor. (Y/n) and I'll go to his place to see if we can find any actual evidence before you go barging in and staking the man! Just wait till we get back, okay? Okay?" Sam asked him. "Okay!" Dean yells and Sam and I leave.

*3rd Person POV*

Dean paces along while The trickster watches, a serious expression on his face. As the sun goes down and turns into night, Dean stood by waiting, impatiently. "Ah, screw this." He growls.

Dean enters the building, poking around cautiously with his flashlight. As he goes up the last staircase, he puts the flashlight away and pulls out a large wooden stake. He hears something behind him then tucks the stake into his jacket, and enters the theater.

On the stage is a round red bed with a tacky canopy and a slowly rotating disco ball. Two women were sprawled on it seductively, both in lingerie. As Dean gets to the stage, they crawl towards him. "We've been waiting for you, Dean." The brunette girl said.

"Y-Y-You guys aren't real." Dean stammers as he stares at them. "Trust me, sugar, it's gonna feel real." Brunette said and Dean laughs nervously. "Come on. Let us give you a massage." Blondie begs.

"Wha...You know, I'm a – I'm a sucker for a happy ending. Really, I am, but...I-I'm gonna have to pass." Dean stammers. "They're a peace offering." A voice said and Dean turns to see the Trickster sitting in the seats. "I know what you, your brother and the girl do. I've been around a while. Run into your kind before." He said.

"Well, then you know that I...can't let you just keep hurting people." Dean said to him. "Come on! Those people got what was coming to them. Hoisted on their own petards. But you and Sam and (y/n)– I like you. I do. So treat yourself...Long as you want. Just long enough for me to move on to the next town." The trickster said.

"Yeah, I don't think I can let you do that." Dean said, firmly. "I don't wanna hurt you. And you know that I can." said the Trickster. "Look, man, I – I got to tell you, I dig your style, all right? I mean..." Dean chuckles. "I do. I mean... the slow-dancing alien –"

"One of my personal favorites. Yeah." The trickster said, laughing. "But, uh, I can't let you go." Dean said. "Too bad. Like I said, I like you. Sam was right. You shouldn't've come alone." The trickster said. "Well, I'll agree with you there." Dean said and the door slams shut.

The Trickster looks back up the stairs to see Sam and (y/n) had just entered, with a large stake of their own. Bobby stands at the top of the next aisle, also with a stake. "That fight you guys had outside – that was a trick?" The trickster asked and Dean smiles. "Hm. Not bad. But you want to see a real trick? " he asked.

A masked man with a chainsaw appears near Sam and (y/n) and attackz then the brunette attacks Dean. The Trickster watches, entertained, as (y/n) and Sam grapple with Chainsaw man and Dean and Bobby fight the two women.

The trickster laughs and watches the fight and gives commentary of things that was going on. Then one of the women throws Dean into the seats near the Trickster, who applauds. "Nice toss, ladies! Nice show." He said as he stands up then looks down at Dean. "I did not want to have to do this." The trickster said when (y/n) pops up behind him and stab him in the back, through the chest.

"Me neither." She said. As she grinds in the stake, Chainsaw man and the women disappear. (Y/n) pulls the stake out, and the Trickster falls, dead, into a seat.

*(y/n)'s POV*

"You guys okay?" I asked the boys as Sam and Bobby comes up while I help Dean to his feet. "Yeah. I guess." Sam said. "Well, I gotta say...he had style." Dean said as he looks down at the dead body then he groans, and we stagger outside.

"Bobby, thanks a lot. We really couldn't've—" Sam started to say and Bobby waves a hand. "Hey, save it! Let's just get the hell out of dodge before somebody finds that body." Bobby said. "Yeah." Dean said and we go outside and head to the Impala.

"Look, Dean, um...I just want to say that I'm, uh...Um..." I started to say to Dean before he says. "Hey. Me too."

"Same here." Sam said and we look at each other and each nod. "You guys are breaking my heart. Could we please just leave?" Bobby said and the boys and I exchange a look over the top of the car, get in, and drive away.

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purple-scrunchie · 11 months

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Who's the best Heather in the movie and who's the best in the musical? :3

Firstly, thanks for the question! I could talk about both these wonderful pieces of media for hours. (Sorry for the oncoming infodump lol, nobody irl wants to hear about this. The TLDRs are bolded if you don't wanna read the entire thing lol) Feel free to give your opinions too! To begin, let's talk about the movie.

Tl;DR: my favorite movie Heather is Heather Duke.

I love this movie with my whole being. The characters are so beautifully written and portrayed, and everybody is a three-dimensional human. While they all have strengths, each character is defined by their flaws. Since I adore them all, choosing a favorite Heather was very difficult.

Chandler is short lived, but oh so iconic. Her 30-ish minutes on screen were some of the most powerful. (I could literally quote almost all of her lines from memory lol) She's essential to kick the plot into motion, igniting Veonica's anger and setting JD off on his murder spree. Since she doesn't get as much screen time as Duke or McNamara, she's the least defined of all the Heathers. Most of what we learn about her is information shared or fabricated after her death. While this is unfortunate, it made her perfect for her role in the musical.

McNamara is a stunning example of a people pleaser relegated to the outskirts. She's certainly a Heather, but not as integral to their group dynamic as Chandler, Duke, or even Veronica. After Chandler's death, Duke often sidelines her the same way she was once sidelined. She suffers in silence the entire movie, leading up to the moment where she tries to end it all. Her story creates empathy with the audience and reminds us that these characters are all just teenagers. Duke, in my opinion, is the best of all three. She starts out as a crony living in Chandler's shadow, but changes the game and becomes so much more. In all the early scenes, she's getting belittled or shut up. She's shown to hate Chandler (rightfully so) and be looking for more in her life. In the croquet scene right before Chandler and Veronica head to Remington, her impossible trick shot sets off a bit of beautiful foreshadowing. The last person you'd ever think would stand up to the Head Bitch in Chief calculates her odds and siezes the prize. Her arc from sidekick to antagonist is one of the best I've ever seen. In my mind, it's on par with Zuko's redemption arc in Avatar.

***

In the musical, my answer is a little different.

Tl;Dr: my favorite Heather from the musical is Heather Chandler.

I love the musical adaptation almost as much as the movie. I recognize that it's meant to be more of a lighthearted nod to the original rather than a remake. Its simpler characters and impeccable comedic timing are certainly easier to write for, but it just doesn't quite hit as hard as the 1988 version (No shame to anybody who likes it more, to each their own!). Choosing my favorite Heather in the context of the musical was definitely easier since their characters are less complex.

Musical Duke isn't quite as terrifying as before. She's just a cruel, jealous ripoff Chandler. She really doesn't have any discernable personality besides being a bitch. While this transformation was a necessary evil, it was dissapointing nonetheless.

McNamara also doesn't really do anything, she's just a background comedic relief character with a few nice songs at the end. Her buildup just isn't there this time around. While I certainly appreciated her before watching the movie, I think you need to watch both to really understand her in the musical.

This leaves Chandler the most in-tact of the three Heathers. As I mentioned in the movie section, she was never meant to be entirely three dimensional. She's just as mean as she was in the movie, but this time even funnier. I love that they kept her around for the entire thing and did such a great job of preserving everything fans of the original love about her.

Anyways thanks again for the question! As mentioned earlier, I'd absolutely love to hear any different takes/ideas too!

#heathers #heathers the musical #heathers 1988 #heather chandler #heather duke #heather mcnamara #scrunchie's ramblings #long post #just shameless infodumping #lets call it what it is #character analysis

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themultifandomgal · 2 years

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Sweet Pea- Moms Last Musical

"Ok YN, Sweet Pea let's try this again and this time don't look like your going to kill each other" Kevin shouts from his little desk in front of the stage. Today is our first day of rehearsal for the musical Heathers. I'm super excited to play Veronica, but Sweet Pea is playing JD. Whooo. Sweet Pea and I used to date, that is until we broke up and he started to date.. excuse me be friends with benefits with Josie "let's start from, Veronica what are you doing in my room. And action!"

" Veronica, what are you doing in my room" Sweet Pea sits up from the makeshift bed

"Sorry, but I really had to wake you. See, I decided I must ride you 'til I break you. 'Cause Heather says I gots to go. You're my last meal on death row. Shut your mouth and lose them tighty-whities"

"No! No no no" Kevin shouts

"What now?" I huff

"Where's the chemistry between you both?"

"Ask him" I look at Sweet Pea getting up

"Me? your the one who broke up with me for no reason"

"And your the one who jumped beds quicker than you can say Southside Serpents"

"That's enough. If this is going to work then you two need to get on. If you don't work this out Veronica and Archie will replace you both, got it" I scoff at Kevin

"Veronica and Archie seriously?"

"For the next week you two are going to do tasks I'll set for. I'll have the tasks ready for you by this evening. Go and cool off, both of you" Sweet Pea and I walk off stage "let's have the Heathers sing candy store. For now we will pretend Veronica is there" Kevin sounds defeated

"I guess I'll see you later then" I say to Pea walking out of the auditorium.

"What does it say?" I ask Sweet Pea while leaning on my locker

"Go bowling together"

"How did you get to school this morning?"

"My dad dropped me off"

"Guess we're taking my bike then"

"Great" we walk out of school and head to Sweet Pea's bike. He hands me his helmet, I take it off him and put it on getting on the back off his bike.

We arrive at the bowling ally and head inside. We get sorted and for a while we play in silence

"This was our last date before we spilt up" Pea says as I pick up a ball

"I know. We ordered fries and a shake, of course not as good as Pops"

"Didn't you get food poisoning?" Pea smiles at me making me chuckle

"Oh god yeah. 48 hours of throwing up"

"My trailer smelt awful for days" we stop laughing realising that's when I broke up with Pea

"What happened YN? we were so good"

"So good that when I told you I needed space and some time alone you got into bed with Josie?"

"I was angry"

"So you carried on? I don't understand why you did that"

"And I don't understand why you broke up with me"

"You know what. Let's go" I put the ball down and walk out of the bowling alley.

Over the next few days Kevin has been making us relive our dates. They've been rather awkward. Tonight is Thursday and we are currently reliving our first ever date, a meal at Pops. We are eating our exact same meal, Kevin has kinda freaked me out how well he knows all of this

"YN talk to me"

"About what?"

"Why we broke up"

"Why do you keep pushing this?"

"Because I haven't had a reason for our break up in 4 months"

"Exactly it's been 4 months so why do you need to know"

"Because I never got over you" Pea raised his voice at me

"Then why did you sleep with Josie? look we're going round in circles here" I sigh putting my head in my hands holding back tears

"Ok" Pea breaths out "I never slept with Josie" I frown looking at him confused "we were going to, I wanted to do anything to get over you, but I couldn't do it. We kissed but it didn't feel right"

"So you lied? how does she feel about that?"

"She was in on it. She wanted to get Reggie to notice her and I wanted to get you jealous so you'd take me back. It was stupid and I shouldn't have done it especially because now I realise it only makes you hate me more. What did I do?"

"I never hated you Pea" I let the tears fall from my eyes "you didn't do anything wrong when we were dating"

"Then why?" Pea now has tears in his eyes. I wipe my face and take a deep breath

"My mom is sick. She hasn't got long left, a few months at the most. I just couldn't cope when I found out. That's why I shut you out, why I needed space. The only reason I'm doing this musical is because dad is going to film it for mom so she can watch me perform one last time. She's come to every other musical and this will be the first one she won't see in person"

"Why didn't you tell me? does anyone else know?" I shake my head

"No no one. I didn't want pity"

"So what was the plan? you were going to just ignore it? what about when she passes? what were you going to do then?"

"I don't know Pea, I just wanted to feel normal until then" Pea takes my hands in his

"Whether we're together or not. I'm not letting you go through this alone”

1 month later

"... slap me, pull my hair. Touch me there and there and there. And no more talking. Love this dead girl walking. Love this dead girl walking"

"Wait, wait"

"Love this dead girl"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah

“Yeah" mom pauses the video and look at me and Sweet Pea

"As much as I'm proud of you, I didn't need to see that" mom and I chuckle before she starts coughing. I grab her a cup and pour some water in it. I help her drink some water "stop looking at me like that. Let's finish watching your show"

I close the lid after we take our bows

"I wish you could have been there mom"

"So do I sweetheart. Now what's going on with you two, I haven't seen Sweet Pea in months and you haven't spoken about him"

"We split up" I say looking down at my hands

"Because I'm sick?" I look back at my mom "do you both still, what's it you kids say these days? oh I don’t know, do you still have the hots for each other” Sweet Pea and I look at each other then back at my mom “let me be proof that you need to live your life like every day will be your last…”

“Mom”

“No YN listen. Whatever’s happened between you two you need to figure it out, because I’ll haunt your sorry asses if you don’t try and make what you have work. Sweet Pea, come here” Pea moves towards mom “my daughter is stubborn, takes after her dad. But if you love her, you do what you can to keep her”

“I will” Sweet Pea takes my hand in his, and I don’t let go. Maybe I was a fool for breaking up with him and going through this alone, but now he’s back. Whether it stays platonic or grows in to more. At least I have him now. That’s all that matters.

#sweet pea x y/n #sweet pea x oc #sweet pea x reader #sweet pea #riverdale imagines #riverdale

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souredwaters · 5 months

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oops i arted

Edit: I forgor to look up a reference while drawing so I just looked it up right now and ITS SO BORING. So here's another redesign I guess YIPPEE

wip of the evil skrunkly man. hes giving "i will never shut up again" from that one version of heathers the musical

|| this is the song hes giving >:)

youtube

#dst #dst wes #ds wes #triumphant wes #dont starve together #wes dont starve #dontstarvetogether

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fritextramole · 8 months

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Heathers

a gossip girl musical episode

early s2 Jenny’s back at Constance and the minions haven’t forgiven or forgotten. Nate’s trying to keep his recent financial status (poor) from his friends. Marcus and the Duchess are gone, and Chuck sees this as an invitation to seduce Blair. Dan and Serena are still reeling from their breakup that was last week but also 3 months ago.

tracklist under the cut

Beautiful

welcome to my school, this ain't no high school this is the thunderdome

Characters: Nate and Jenny (+ students)

The first day of a new year. They haven’t talked about it but Nate and Jenny are both dreading going back.

Candy Store

you can live the dream or you can die alone

Characters: Blair, minions

Being back at Constance means Blair has to deal with Chuck and Jenny, and she’s not happy.

I Say No

don't say a word you speak and i cave in you'll twist the truth again and drill deep down beneath my skin

Character: Nate

Nate finds out Chuck’s giving his mom money, and hates him for it.

Seventeen

can't we be seventeen? that's all i want to do

Characters: Dan, Serena

Dan and Serena reminisce about what they want from their relationship, and what could have been

Big Fun

showing up here took some guts time to rip 'em out

Characters: students

a back to school party brings the characters together, but puts Jenny in the path of the minions.

Our Love Is God

we can start and finish wars we're what killed the dinosaurs we're the asteroid that's overdue

Characters: Chuck, Blair

After Chuck and Nate get in a fight about Nate’s financial status, Chuck leverages that into sympathy for himself from Blair

Never Shut Up Again / Shine a Light (Reprise)

better mind what you do big sister’s watching you

Characters: Penelope + minions

Blair’s too busy with Chuck to deal with Jenny, so Penelope takes the initiative to bully this 15 year old

Lifeboat

if i say the wrong thing or i wear the outfit they’ll throw me right over the side

Character: Jenny

Her spirits are down after a run in with the minions at the party

Shine a Light

shine shine shine and your scars and your flaws will look lovely because you shine!

Character: Rufus

Rufus wants to raise his children’s spirits and motivate them to stay at Constance St. Judes. (it’s not going well.)

Seventeen (Reprise)

we can be seventeen we can learn how to chill if no one loves me now someday somebody will

Characters: students

Our main characters resolve to try to get along (until the next episode)

#they wouldn't all be the full songs but you get it #gg #gossip girl #heathers #blair waldorf #jenny humphrey #nate archibald #ggmusicals

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grizzlyofthesea · 1 year

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Heather Duke Appreciation Post

I'm going through a Heathers (the musical) phase right now, and I just want to talk a little bit about my favorite Heather: Heather Duke.

I will preface this by saying that she did a lot of cruel things. Bullying Veronica and especially Martha, lashing out at Heather McNamara, etc. is ~not cool~.

But, but, but...

Just like McNamara, she has some stuff going on beneath the surface.

We all know that Heather Chandler pushes her around disproportionately, and that she becomes a tyrant after Chandler's death. People say Duke's tyranny after replacing Chandler is motivated by envy toward the other Heathers, but I think that's only part of it. I think her actions are also fueled by wrath. Now that she isn't under Chandler's thumb, she can lash out and let everyone else know just how that mistreatment felt. McNamara faces the brunt of the abuse because (1) she was not abused as much by Chandler, and (2) she just stood by as Chandler bullied Duke. Duke was resentful of McNamara's "favorite" status and refusal to defend her, so when she got the chance, she didn't hesitate to knock McNamara down a peg. It's not right, but the rationalization is there.

The adoption of red into Duke's wardrobe, whether it's just the scrunchie or a full outfit change, is also a slight to Chandler just as much as it is a symbol of power. She gets to wear Chandler's favorite color--her favorite color as well, if that detail from the movie has carried over--and the former queen of the Heathers can do nothing about it. No one is there to tell her to shut up. If there's anything I like about the West End production, it's "Never Shut Up Again." This new song takes Duke's vendetta against Chandler and runs with it.

It's also important to consider her implied insecurities.

CW for the following paragraph: body dysmorphia, EDs

//////

In "Beautiful," Veronica mentions that Duke has breast implants, courtesy of her mother. Implants can be a purely cosmetic choice, but I don't think that's the case here. Take into account Duke's struggles with bulimia, and her remark that Veronica could "stand to lose a few pounds." Veronica, depending on the production, is either thin, average, or only slightly on the thicker side. Duke is projecting her weight insecurities onto Veronica. She is deeply self-conscious about her appearance and has a skewed image of what an "acceptable" physique is. Even her childhood friendship with Martha could be interpreted this way; she could be ashamed of it due to Martha's unpopularity, but also Martha's weight. She doesn't want to be associated with the word "fat" in any form--"curvy," yes, but not "fat." It's reasonable to think the implants are another step in achieving such impossible standards. Plus, she's seventeen. She may be devious and well-read, but she's still a child. She's sensitive to her peers' praise and opinions, even (or especially) as a member of the most popular clique at Westerburg. A rich, insecure child will probably do stupid things to impress her peers, up to and including getting illegal surgery.

//////

In conclusion, Heather Duke is a wicked, tragic monster. She is the bully who was bullied. She isn't an "uwu soft bean who did no wrong." Every Heather has done some messed up stuff, and Duke is a prime example. But the insecurity, the resentful rage... That is her damage.

#heathers #heathers the musical #heather duke #heather mcnamara #heather chandler #veronica sawyer #martha dunnstock #heather duke appreciation

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blueikeproductions · 1 year

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Besides JD, I had thoughts about Kurt and Ram as they survive in this universe, and I was inspired by various fan animatics. In the AU, they’re two boys who are directionless and gravitated towards those who would offer direction. They came under the wing of the current football star, nicknamed Thrash, who personifies their crass behavior from the movie and musical but cranked up.

The two boys start to mimic this behavior, and coupled with expectations of what men should be like from their “traditionally manly” dads created a conflict. Deep down it didn’t feel right to either of them, their jerkish behavior and antagonism to those they were originally friends with, but the reputation was already there and they weren’t sure what else to do because of high school norms and expectations.

To complicate matters, the two also started to realize they have a romantic, “forbidden” thing for each other, but they overcompensated on trying to be with girls, even forcing themselves on girls in an attempt to feel “normal”, but it never felt right.

They persist in this beer guzzling, jock asshole mentality until Dan and JD come along. They see Dan hugging JD, and wrongfully conclude they’re boyfriends and needle Dan about it, the “no fags bit” in the movie, which Dan effortlessly turns it around on them by saying “Looks to me like you’re breaking your own rules.” A flustered Kurt and Ram, horrified this weirdo may have actually figured them out, try to fight, but get whaled on by JD, who had been observing from a far and blindly reacted to his “friendly acquaintance” being threatened.

This starts a pivot where the two start to reevaluate their lot in life, …but not at first. They attempt to needle Dan again, but he’s still not budging despite not having JD to ambush them this time, and they demand to know why he isn’t bothered by them or the Heathers’ attempts at destroying him.

Dan: I’m happy with who I am. I love comics, I love animation. I love these bricks. -holds up Quickswitch- I’m not hurting anyone by liking what I like, and I’m not going to let people who think otherwise bother me.

Kurt: …It’s that easy for you?

Dan: -shrugs- I’m not making it hard on myself otherwise. Not after what happened in Hawkins.

Ram: Hawkins? Hawkins, Indiana? Dan: Uh… forgot I said that. Point is, I’m content to like what I do. I’m wearing an ALF shirt and nobody’s gonna stop me~

The two boys start to think that maybe this isn’t such a bad direction to go, and wanting to avoid JD’s fists again, they start backing down on the “jock asshole” mentality, and being friendlier to other students to their surprise.

They are very clear however, they still want beer though, which a confused Dan is like “Uh ok… I never said you couldn’t have Miller Time.”

The trio start to form a friendship from here. Dan picks up on their directionless nature, and tries to subtly encourage them to think more for themselves more, doing what they love and enjoy without shame. The jocks slowly start indulging in their “nerdy” interests more, Kurt likes to collect He-Man figures (a gag involves Dan at a toy shop looking for a Transformer, and finds Kurt wearing a poor disguise still while thumbing the MOTU aisle), while Ram had an interest in video games like Mario and the TMNT games.

This had the domino effect of Dan not hanging out as much with JD (the later having grown accustomed to Dan being there and started having something of a codependency on him and Veronica as his mental health began to deteriorate), and Thrash being agitated his two star protégés were relapsing into the “goddamn” geeks he found.

There’s a bit where the jocks hanging out with Dan watching TMNT and ALF, and Kurt tries offering him a beer instead of New Coke. Dan declines, saying he’s allergic to the ingredients, which he found out the hard way when his throat swelled shut when he tried some at a party before.

Dan: I’m happy with New Coke. -takes a swig- Kurt: -looks grossed out- How can you drink that piss? Dan: Everyone’s got their poison I s’pose.

(There’s a 4-Koma version where Ram doesn’t buy the allergy excuse, and puts a bit of beer in the coke, and then suddenly they’re at the hospital with Ram apologizing profusely and JD going “Danny boy you dingus, you know you can’t drink beer!” Dan: An honest communication error, that’s all, bleh…)

Later, at the funeral of Heather, a fed up Thrash starts to terrorize Dan, Martha (like the musical, Ram and Martha had grown apart, but Ram had decided to try to revive their friendship to her joy), Kurt and Ram in an inversion of the same scene in the movie.

Kurt and Ram are hesitant to do anything at first, meekly telling Thrash to stop, but when Trash starts to attack Dan and attempts to break his arm to prove a point, they start to see what they used to be and the two punch Thrash in the face. JD had already left so he didn’t see this change in heart in the jocks, but he DOES become more aware of Thrash when he overhears Dan got into an altercation, and his anger erupts when Veronica became a target of Thrash (a version of the sword fight scene, where the surviving Heathers went on a date with Thrash and another buddy of his), which spelled the poor sod’s doom at JD and Veronica’s hands.

At Thrash’s funeral, there’s a meta joke where the two boys are looking at Thrash’s body, remarking how it feels weird and that if things hadn’t changed that could be them in the casket instead…

Martha expresses an interest in wanting to date Ram, reliving her Kindergarten boyfriend days, but Ram decides, with much hesitation, to be honest and admit he’s not interested in her that way and that he’s seeing someone else, awkwardly sideeyeing at Kurt hoping she’ll understand. Martha is understandably surprised and a little sad, but was still happy Ram was making the effort to restore their friendship and found Kurt and Ram’s “whatever this is” to be very progressive. Kurt tries to encourage Martha to talk to Dan about dating, as Dan had admitted to having a crush on her after being playfully needled.

Dan wasn’t present at that moment, as he became worried about JD and went to investigate what was going on with him. Reluctantly, Kurt and Ram also follow, wondering what’s happening, and help in dealing with the thermals and bombs JD had rigged up.

#Heathers #heathers fanart #heathers the musical #heathers fanfic #kurt and ram #BlueIke #blueike productions #heathers au #kurt and ram heathers #heathers OC

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omegawizardposting · 2 years

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Actually, wait, my SH hyperfixation has awakened once more. Let me ramble for a bit.

Another thing that the new games need to tackle is where the impact of Silent Hill's monsters stems from. Many designers will assume that the horror in a horror game stems from being chased by spooky monsters, and that's about where they'll pack things up.

Those types of games can be scary, but the fear we feel while playing them tends to last only as long as, well, we're playing them. You shut off the game and you return to the real world, where Jason Vorhees can't catch and impale you on a hook.

This is not so in Silent Hill, because Silent Hill's fear taps into the human psyche.

For me, it was never the monsters that frightened me; it was what they represented. This becomes especially true in SH2 and SH3, where we see a more diverse array of monsters.

Pyramid Head isn't just a dangerous big bad. He is the physical manifestation of James' guilt. The Abstract Daddy isn't just a creepy design. It's the representation of Angela's abuse at the hands of her father. The Closer isn't just there to block hallways. It's a mother figure, humming an eerie lullaby to Heather as it stalks ever closer.

These are real, potent fears. The fear of guilt. The fear of being hurt. The fear of being hurt by those closest to you. They're fears we can all, on some level, understand and apply to the world around us.

That's why the monsters in, for example, Downpour are so forgettable. They fail to tap into the human psyche. It's a big bat. It's a screaming lady. The only one I might say comes close to achieving the same effect are the Dolls. They might, at the very least, fall into the realm of the uncanny valley. They didn't scare me personally, but I can see why some might find them unsettling.

(The mannequin room in SH3 scares me far more than the Dolls.)

Speaking of the uncanny, liminal space has always been a HUGE part of the original three's appeal. Each game makes use of impossible spaces and spaces that are not quite right. The familiar becomes unfamiliar.

An empty town. An empty shopping mall. An empty prison.

Emptiness and loneliness are key components of a liminal space, and these are made all the more chilling when there are signs of previous habitation. I return again to, "There was a hole here, it's gone now". We know that someone had to be here to scrawl this message, but they and everyone else are long gone by the time we arrive in Silent Hill.

We know that this, that emptiness, is not the natural state of this space. We have entered into this space at a time when it is in an altered state, when it is not as it should be.

The familiar turned unfamiliar.

Accompanying all of this is Akira Yamaoka's phenomenal musical scoring. The soundtracks of the original three games remind of James Leyland Kirby's concept of "empty bliss". Mr. Kirby may be better know to some of you by his moniker The Caretaker, under which he produced and released his six-album series Everywhere at the End of Time, a musical exploration of dementia. If you are familiar with his work, you'll understand what I mean. If you aren't, I cannot recommend it enough.

Empty bliss, to me, is the end of a long struggle. It is the bittersweet goodbye at the end of an Alzheimer's patient's life. It is having imagined death so many times that you welcome it when it comes for you. It is the peaceful dark behind a corpse's eyelids.

It is heavy, and melancholy, and it echoes in what is left of your mind as you, at last, succumb.

Akira Yamaoka's music isn't something you dance to. There are some tracks, such as Theme of Laura, that are more thrilling, that might get your blood pumping, but most of Mr. Yamaoka's work on the SH franchise is subdued. Rather than using his music to keep the player's adrenaline high, he lulls us into a false sense of security with tracks like Forest, Promise, and Heaven's Night, before easing us into the ache of Ordinary Vanity and Magdalene.

Then, when it matters most, he gives us our well-earned Black Fairy.

I'm uncertain if he's returning to the franchise for its newest installments, but I certainly hope he is. If he is not, they'll be hard pressed to find another composer who understands empty bliss as well as him.

All of these concepts are difficult to pull off in any piece of media, let alone a franchise as long-running and beloved as Silent Hill. The team has big shoes to fill. Rather than being able to make their own game, they must make something that fits into a preexisting series. They have to understand what made the original three popular if they want to succeed in adding to their legacy.

That's not easy, and I don't envy them.

However, looking at the trailer for Silent Hill f, I can see that the creative team has a very strong sense of style. That will certainly work in their favor.

What isn't going to work in their favor, I feel, is the change of setting. This is not Silent Hill. This appears to be a small Japanese village being consumed by fungus, and Silent Hill is an American town that is home to a homicidal cult and an army of horrific monsters that may or may not be real.

The setting may be good, the game may be good, but already, it doesn't feel like a Silent Hill game. It feels like a completely unrelated horror game that they slapped the Silent Hill name on for clout.

Later installments in the franchise also left Silent Hill and tended to suffer for it, but they at least took place in nearby towns. Silent Hill f takes place on the other side of the world. There is no way, that I can think of, for it to connect back to the lore and story of the franchise; at least, not in any meaningful way.

If the team keeps the monster design, liminality, and empty bliss of the original three, I feel that it will be a good game.

Will it be a Silent Hill game? Probably not.

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phoenixpearl-ashes · 20 days

Text

Heather at the Door

Heather wondered, just for a moment, whether she was dying.

A brief fantasy, ending as the slow pulse of pain crept up the back of her neck, pounding through her temple where it pressed against the unsympathetic concrete. She blinked slowly, the arm stretched in front of her coming into focus, blackness dripping off her twitching fingers like ink. The wicked points at the end of them were melting off, puddling into the dark swirls below. Underneath, all that remained was her hands, skin olive tinged and tipped with ragged-edged nails.

A hoarse shout echoed from behind her, ringing painfully through Heather’s head, and her eyes snapped the rest of the way open.

Not safe. Not safe. Never safe. Move! She snarled to herself. Her arms drew close to her again, scrabbled for a moment, then managed to lift her into a sitting position, eyes finally focusing enough to see around her again. The concrete beneath her ended abruptly a few feet away, where a thin strip of weeds stood at the base of a sturdy stone wall. Most of the wall was a muddy grey with age, with hints of the lighter shade it must have been years ago peeking out from sheltered edges. Across from Heather though…

“Oh.” She murmured. A smear, or perhaps a splatter marked the wall, rusty red and dripping from the rough center, where chunks of gore, scraps of cloth, and fragments of bone remained stuck to the stone. Nothing about it was identifiable as anything but broken, bloodied meat. Below it, the darkness swirled. White shapes blinked in and out as Heather dragged herself to her feet. The edges of her vision were dark, but she remained standing even as she doubled over to retch red-tinged bile onto the ground. When she straightened back up, her eyes searched everywhere but the display on the wall, flicking to either side to orient herself.

It was an alley, she realized. One side’s wall that grey stone, the other cracked red brick, each with a heavy metal door, and between them the ill-maintained concrete ground. The end of the alley to Heather’s right was where the shout had come from, and though another like it had not come after, a steady drift of sounds came from that direction. Laughter, raucous and unapologetic, the murmur of overlapping conversation, and music, crackling as though played too loudly out of a too-small speaker. To her left was quiet, and a darkness nearly as complete as the shadows shifting at her feet.

She stared in the direction of the bright lights and brighter sounds for only a moment before turning away and limping towards the dark. She reached into her jacket pocket as she left, fingers blindly wrapping around her phone to dial a number on muscle memory alone. She didn’t bother to hold it up to her ear. It just hummed quietly in her pocket until the call failed on its own.

The city at night was as familiar to her as it was in the day, perhaps even more so. It was no more than ten minutes after her departure from the alley that she stood in front of a familiar door, painted sage green and with a tarnished brass knocker hung upon the front. She didn’t reach for the knocker. She didn’t knock by hand, or push the ringer button that glowed gently beside the door either. She just waited, arms held tight around her middle and slumping a bit more as she stood there in the quiet.

And then the door opened. Heather gave a quiet hiss at the brightness, squinting at the figure in the doorway. They were a tall, dark shape against the light, steady even to Heather’s wavering vision.

They were quiet, for a long moment. If Heather had been looking she would have seen the myriad of emotions that flickered across their face as they reached across the door frame for Heather’s shoulder, and the way their eyes went sad as their fingers came back damp and red.

“Oh Heather…” they said softly. Heather didn’t say anything, but when they reached forward to take hold of her hand and pulled gently she followed without protest. The door shut behind her quietly, and she was led through a small hallway and into a room lit softly by a small lamp. Just inside the room stood a plush maroon couch, and it was to this that they gently led Heather, pulling her carefully down to sit on it. Here, in the dim light, Heather could finally look properly at them again. She was pale, almost unhealthily so, with dusty blonde hair that turned to ruddy red farther down, so long she could have used it as a coat, and ice blue eyes fixed upon Heather’s own green ones. Her lips were moving, slowly and carefully, and it took a moment for Heather to hear the words for which the movement was made.

“Heather? Can you hear me?”

Heather blinked, slowly. Here in the quiet, everything hurt so much less and so much more at the same time. Her mouth opened for a moment, but nothing came out at first but a quiet cough, one that she muffled in her hand only for it to come away splattered with that sticky red.

“Sienna.” She mumbled.

The woman beside her had the pained, sad look again. Heather wished she could make it go away.

“Yes, Heather, that’s me. Sienna.” She waited for a moment, seeming to see if Heather would say anything else, but the silence only stretched on. Heather’s eyes began to drift shut again.

“Ah-ah wait. Not…you can’t sleep just yet. Soon.” She reached for Heather’s shoulder again, uncaring of the way the fabric stuck to her hand as she peeled it gently off of her. “This is new, isn’t it? It’s nice. I like the pattern. Plaid has always suited you.” She kept up a steady, even toned murmur of one-sided conversation as she carefully removed the jacket, and then the flannel beneath it. Both were laid over the back of the couch, the redness seeping harmlessly into the even darker fabric below it. By the time both had been peeled off, Heather’s eyes were properly open, pupils wide and fully focused upon Sienna’s face.

“Mm, it is new. Got it for you. Too comfy though, kept it. Guess you can have it. Might need a wash now though..” Heather gave the tiniest giggle as she looked at the state of the flannel beside her.

At the sound of her voice and laugh Sienna’s face brightened “Oh there you are.” She glanced at the flannel, face cracking into a smile. “Just maybe. Or maybe I could call it a fashion statement. Sanguine couture, anyone?”

“I know you’d look incredible. In it or anything else.”

“Hm, yes you’re very charming. I don’t believe the guys at the office would think so though.”

“All the more reason.”

“True, true. Though I would like to keep my job. Stability has…some perks.” Sienna gestured to the room around them, a small but comfy looking living room painted a similar sage color to the door at the front. On the floor, a thick plush carpet covered the wooden floor. The two’s shadows stretched out across it, darkening as the minutes stretched on in idle conversation. White shapes and movement unreflected in the two women danced across them, unnoticed in the quiet peace of the evening.

Rather abruptly, perhaps half an hour after Heather had arrived, Sienna sat up from where she had leaned back on the couch. “Shall we go to bed?”

“Why yes, we shall, my lady.” Heather said, putting on a faux posh accent as she got to her feet.

“If I’m to be your lady, then you really ought to be a bit more deferential you know.” Sienna snipped as she stood to join her. The words were harsh, but the softness in her eyes remained as she reached out to take Heather’s offered hand. Heather brought it to her lips, leaving a crimson mark behind them.

“My apologies, madam.” Her eyes, dark behind their lids, stared up at Sienna from her half bowed position. “I’ll do better for you.”

“See that you do.” Sienna murmured. She lifted her hand gently from Heather’s grasp, tongue flicking out to wipe away the red mark. “Now, I believe we were going to bed?”

The lamp clicked off as they left the room, their dim shapes trailing away down the hall farther into the house. Behind them, their shadows flickered and shifted, swirling and tumbling into each other in a silent dance until neither could separate from the other.

#hurt people #heather #sienna #phoenix writing

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aspenmissing · 10 months

Text

𝚃𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚃𝚊𝚕𝚎𝚜 (𝙿𝚝 𝟷)

In a motel room, Sam is sitting on the couch looking through books; he rubs his face tiredly. Y/N is sitting opposite Sam, her head on her arms. Dean is sitting up on the bed behind them, listening to the radio and eating something messy from a disposable plate.

"Dude. You mind not eating those on MY side of the bed?" Y/N says. Her head now lifted up.

"No, I don't mind," Dean eats another "How's research going?"

"You know how it's going? Slow. You know how it would go a heck of a lot faster? If I had my computer."

"Hmm," Dean nods sarcastically.

"Can you turn that down please?" Sam says.

"Yeah, absolutely," Dean turns the music up louder.

"You know what? Maybe, uh, maybe you should just go somewhere for a while," Sam says loudly. Dean shuts off the radio and looks up, snappish.

"Hey, I'd love to. That's a great idea. Unfortunately, my car's all screwed to hell."

"Dean, I told you; I have nothing to do wi-" Sam is cut off by a loud knock on the door. Sam stands and goes to the door; he looks through the peephole and then back at Dean and Y/N, then opens the door. Outside is Bobby.

"Hey, Bobby," Bobby enters, hands in pockets.

"Winchesters," Dean and Y/N stand and approach.

"Hey, Bobby," she says.

"It's good to see you again so soon," Bobby says. Sam claps Bobby on the back.

"Yeah, uh, thanks for coming. Come on in," Dean shakes Bobby's hand firmly.

"Thank god you're here," Dean says.

"So um, what didn't you want to talk to me on the phone about?"

"It's this job we're working. We- We weren't sure you'd believe us."

"Well, I can believe a lot," Bobby scoffs.

"Yeah, no, no, it's just, we've never seen anything like it-"

"Not even close," Dean says.

"And we thought we could use some fresh eyes," Y/N says.

"Well, why don't you begin at the beginning?"

"Yeah, um, all right," Sam gestures to the bed; Bobby picks up the empty takeout tray and peers at it, sets it aside, and sits down. "So, it all started when we caught wind of an obit. See, a professor took a nosedive from a fourth story window, only there's a campus legend that the building's haunted. So, we pretexted as reporters from the local paper."

==Flashback – Sam POV==

Sam and Y/N are sitting at a table with a stocky jock boy and an attractive girl; Sam sets a voice recorder down on the table.

"Yeah, we both had the professor for Ethics and Morality," The jock boy says.

"Yeah? So why do you think he did it?" Y/N asks.

"Who knows? I mean, he was tenured, wife and kids. His book is like a really big deal. Then again..." The girl leans in conspiratorially. "Who's to say it was suicide?" The boy scoffs.

"Jen, come on."

"Well, what else could it be?" Sam asks, surprised.

"Well, you know about Crawford Hall?"

"No, we don't actually."

"It's a bunch of crap, it's a total urban legend."

"Yeah well, Heather's mom went to school here, and she knew the girl?" Jen says.

"Wait, what girl?" Sam asks.

"Thirty years ago, this girl was having an affair with some professor. He broke it off, she jumped out the window and killed herself."

"You know her name?" Y/N asks.

"No. But they say she jumped from room six-six-nine. Get it? You turn the nine upsides down," Sam and Y/N nod as the boy laughs. "So now she haunts the building. And anyone who sees her? They don't live to tell the tale."

"Well if no one lives to tell the tale, then how does the tale get told?" The boy says.

"Curtis! Shut up!"

"You know what, uh - Thanks a lot guys. Excuse us," Elsewhere in the bar, Dean has three shot glasses in front of him filled with dark bluish-purple liquid. He slides his hand and takes one. Minutes later he slams all three in succession as Sam and Y/N approach.

"Dean. Dean, what are you drinking?" Y/N asks. Dean burps.

"I don't know, man, I think they're called purple nurples?"

"Okay, well listen. I think we should go and check out the professor's office."

"Oh, no, no, no, no, no, no I can't right now, I've got some feisty little wildcat on the hook, I'm about to reel her in. I'll introduce you two," A woman with fishnet stockings and a tight miniskirt, heavily make- up blond girl appears.

"Dean-"

"Starla! Starla, hey. This is my shuttle co-pilot Major Tom and my engineer Major Gibbs. Major Tom, Major Gibbs, Starla," Starla drapes an arm around Dean.

"Enchanted."

"Hi."

"Hello," Starla gags, covering her mouth, then looks up grinning. Sam and Y/N look really sceptical and dubious.

"Sorry. Just trying to keep my liquor down!"

"Yeah! Good job," Dean turns to Y/N and Sam. "Hey. Good news. She's got a sister and a brother," He leans back into Starla's arm again, both of them grinning suggestively.

"I think I'm gonna be sick," Y/N mutters.

==Flashback End==

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold on a minute."

"That's nothing like mine," Y/N says.

"What?"

"Come on, dude, that's not how it happened."

"No? So, you never drank a purple nurple?" Sam says.

"Yeah, maybe that, but I don't say things like 'feisty little wildcat'. And her name wasn't Starla."

"Then what was it?"

"I don't know." Dean looks to Bobby, taking up the story. "But she was a classic chick. She was a grad student, anthropology and folklore. We were talking about local ghost stories."

==Flashback – Dean’s POV==

The same girl from Sam's POV is seen with Dean, but this time she's in black heels and a sleek black cocktail dress. She and Dean each hold a purple nurple and toast with them.

"Here's to..."

"Here's to us."

"My god, you are attractive."

"Thanks. But no time for that now. You need to tell me about this urban legend. Please. Lives are at stake."

"Sorry, I just...can't even concentrate. It's like staring...into the sun." She reaches up and pulls his head towards her for a slow kiss. Sam and Y/N approach behind them both with an extremely dubious expression. Sam has his jacket slung over his shoulder and Y/N has her arms crossed with an annoyed expression.

"Dean! What do you think you're doing?" Sam says in an exaggerated prissy tone, extreme bitchface.

"We need to get to work," Y/N says, rolling her eyes.

"Guys, please. If you wouldn't mind, give me five minutes here."

"Dean, this is a very serious investigation. We don't have any time for any of your blah blah blah blah. Blah blah blah blah. Blah blah blah Blah!" Dean leans in to kiss the girl again as Y/N and Sam continue blabbering behind him.

"Blah!"

==Flashback End==

"Right! And that's how it really happened," Sam says sarcastically. Dean shrugs.

"I don't sound like that, Dean," Y/N says.

"That's what you sound like to me."

"Besides, that's nothing like I remember."

"Well, what do you remember?" Sam asks.

==Flashback – Y/N’s POV==

Y/N is sat at a booth, looking towards her brothers. Sam is busy talking to two students and Dean is talking to a woman.

"What's a pretty girl like you sitting her alone?" A voice says. Y/N looks up and sees an attractive man. He is wearing dark blue jeans, with brown boots; he has black hair and a stubbled beard. He is holding two unopened beer bottles. "This seat taken?" He gestures to the seat in front of her.

"No, no. Sure sit." The man places one of the unopened beer bottles in front of her. "This for me?" Y/N raises her eyebrows and snorts.

"May I know the pretty girls name" Y/N raises her eyebrows and snorts.

"Is that your pick-up line? You gotta try a bit harder." She opens her bottle and takes a sip.

"You’re not like other girls I've met. You seem like you’re actually fun. Names Jake." He holds out his hand. Y/N stares at it and smiles.

"Y/N." They start talking and 30 or so minutes later Sam walks over to the booth to see about 10 beer bottles on the table and Y/N and Kyle making out.

"Y/N? Oh, come on, not you too," Sam says and she looks to Sam.

"Heya Sammy, meet my new friend Jake. Jake this is my little brother," she says drunkenly.

"Y/N, we need to go." Sam grabs Y/N's hands and helps her to stand but she pushes his hands off and goes back to Jake. Sam, seeing she won't move, sighs and leaves. Jake and Y/N continue to make out and they stand up to walk back to the Impala...

==Flashback End==

"You did not have sex in my baby!" Dean shouts.

"I told you Dean, she’s mine! And that’s how I remembered it!"

"You never introduced me to a Jake?" Sam says. Bobby stares at the three.

"Okay. What's going on with you three?"

"Nothing. No- it's nothing."

"No, come on. You're bickering like an old married couple and their annoying grandkid," Dean gets up and crosses to the kitchenette.

"No, see married couples can get divorced and grandkids can go up for adoption but us three. We're like, uh, Siamese triplets."

"It's conjoined twins!" Sam says like it's something he's said many times before.

"See what I mean?" Dean says.

"Look, it," Y/N sighs "we've been on the road for too long. Tight quarters, all that. Don't worry about it."

"Okay," Bobby says.

"So anyway. We figured it might be a haunting, so we went to check out the scene of the crime."

==Flashback – Sam POV==

The Janitor lets Sam, Dean, and Y/N, who are posing as electricians, into the professor’s office.

"So, how long've you been working here?" Y/N asks.

"I've been mopping this floor for six years." The Janitor turns on a light as the four walk into the professor's office. "There you go, guys," The Janitor looks at Sam's EMF reader. "What the heck's that for?"

"Just finding a wire in the walls."

"Huh. Wow. Not sure why you're wiring up this office. Not gonna do the professor much good."

"Why's that?" Dean asks.

"He's dead," The Janitor says bluntly.

"Oh. What happened?"

"He went out that window. Right there."

"Yeah? Were you working that night?"

"I'm the one who found him."

"You see it happen?" Y/N asks. Dean sees a bowl of nuts on the side table and eats one.

"Nope. I just saw him come up here, and uh...well."

"What?"

"He wasn't alone," Dean's cheeks are stuffed with nuts. He's holding the bowl and continues eating them throughout the conversation.

"Who was he with?" Dean asks with a muffled voice.

"You looked like a chipmunk."

"Come on! I ate one, maybe two."

"Just let me tell it, okay?"

"He was with a young lady. I told the cops about her, but uh, I guess they never found her," The Janitor says.

"You saw this girl go in, huh? But did you ever see her come out?"

"Now that you mention it, no."

"You ever seen her before, around?" Y/N asks.

"Well, not her."

"What do you mean?" Dean asks still muffled; Sam glares at him.

"I don't mean to cast aspersions on a dead guy, but uh . . . Mister Morality here? He brought a lot of girls up here. Got more ass than a toilet seat," Dean and Y/N laugh delightedly; Sam glares and the Janitor grins.

"One more thing. This building, it only has four stories, right?"

"Yeah."

"So, there wouldn't be a room six-six-nine?"

"'Course not. Why do you ask?"

"Aw, just curious. Thank."

"Yeah, thanks for the help," Y/N says.

"You’re welcome, sweet cheeks," Dean chews with his mouth open, stuffed full of nuts. They return to the hotel and Sam sits at the table; Dean gets a beer out of the fridge and hands one to Y/N and gets another one for Sam.

"Well, no traces of EMF, that's for sure."

"And the room six-six-nine's a load of crap."

"So, what do you think? The professor's just a jumper. A legend's just a legend?"

"I don't know. I mean, the uh, girl the janitor described, that's pretty weird," Y/N says.

"Yeah."

"Yeah, you're right," Sam opens up his laptop, then stares at the screen, confused. Y/N looks and bursts out laughing.

"Come on Sammy, I expected this from Dean but you?"

"Dude. Were you on my computer?" Dean comes back out of the bathroom, confused.

"No."

"Oh really? 'Cause it's frozen now. On uh, Bustyasianbeauties.com," Dean thinks for a moment, frowns, winces, and retreats. "Dean! Would you - just- don't touch my stuff anymore, okay?" Y/N is still laughing.

"Why don't you control your O.C.D?"

==Flashback End==

"But did you dig up anything about the building? Or on the suicidal co-ed?" Bobby says, walking around.

"No. History's clean," Sam replies.

"Maybe not. Tell you the truth, we're not really sure," Y/N says.

"What do you mean, you're not sure?"

"Well, it's weird."

"What's weird?"

"This next part, we uh, we didn't see it happen ourselves exactly, but it’s pretty friggin weird. Even for us."

==Flashback – Dean’s POV==

Curtis walks alone through the campus. He hears a noise and turns, startled, then keeps walking, laughing at himself. He hears another noise and stops, looking straight up. He walks more carefully, hands in pockets. Suddenly a bright light whooshes on overhead and he cringes, arms over his head. He starts running, but trips and falls; a bright beam of light shoots down and grabs him like a tractor beam, pulling him up. He screams and flails.

==Flashback End==

"Aliens?" Bobby asks.

"Yeah."

"Aliens?"

"Yeah," Dean says.

"Look, even if they are real, they're sure as hell not coming to earth and swiping people."

"Hey, believe me. We know," Y/N says.

"My whole life I've never found evidence of an honest-to-God abduction. It's all just cranks and pranks."

"Yeah, that's what we thought. But...we figured we'd at least talk to the guy."

==Flashback – Unclear POV==

Dean is seated next to Curtis, who has three full shot glasses lined up in front of him. Sam and Y/N are standing nearby as Curtis takes a shot.

"Hey, you ought to give these purple nurples a shot."

"So, what happened, Curtis?" Y/N asks.

"You won't believe me. Nobody does."

"Give us a chance."

"I do not want this in the papers."

"Off the record, then," Sam says.

"I, uh...I blacked out, and... I lost time, and when I woke up, I don't know where I was."

"Then what?" Sam says sitting, followed by Y/N.

"They did tests on me. And, uh..." Curtis takes another shot. "They, uh...They probed me." Sam turns his face away, struggling not to laugh. Y/N bites the inside of her cheek to not laugh.

"They probed you?" Dean says.

"Yeah, they probed me. Again, and again and - And again and again," Curtis takes another shot. Dean looks to Y/N and Sam who are trying not to laugh. "And again and again and again... And then one more time."

"Yikes," Dean says.

"And that's not even the worst of it."

"How could it get any worse? Some alien made you his bitch," Dean smirks. But when he sees Curtis glaring at him, he stops.

"They...They made me...Slow dance?" Y/N, Sam, and Dean look at him before Y/N finally starts laughing and she looks away.

==Flashback End==

Y/N, Dean, and Sam are sat on the couch while Bobby is standing up looking at them.

"You guys are exaggerating again, huh?" Bobby says.

"No, no."

"Then this frat boy's just nuts."

"We're not sure."

==Flashback – Unclear POV==

Sam, Dean, and Y/N are standing over a large, perfectly round scorch mark in the ground.

"I'm telling you, Guys. This was made by some kind of jet engine," Sam says.

"You mean some saucer-shaped jet engine?"

"What else could it be?"

"What the hell?" Y/N says.

"I don't know."

"Seriously, dude- what the hell?"

"I don't know."

"I mean, first the haunting. Now this? The timing alone- There's got to be some kind of connection."

"You mean between the angry spirit and the sexed-Up E.T.? What could the connection possibly be?"

==Flashback End==

"But what could we do? So, we just kept on digging," Y/N says.

#supernatural #older sister winchester #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fandom #reader insert

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yestrday · 2 years

Text

— WHAT YOU STARTED. yan! modern! childe x gn! reader

notes ! man idk if this was intimidating enough to do the song justice but this was inspired by meant to be yours from the heathers musical! and those anme tiktoks of hot dudes banging on the door

( reader is fucked up but has conscience, yelling, unhealthy relationships, blood, attempted suicide, childe calls you a bitch a lot, aggressive behavior )

errant. frantic. your mind is both full and empty at the same time. all it ever processes is the blur of the white tiles and the flickering fluorescent lights. it feels the burn of your shaky legs as you run for your life, but it refuses to register it.

you’re running, fast, faster, but his slow and easygoing steps seem to be never too far behind. the sound of a knife scraping metal screams in your ear, along with the low, hollow laugh of your persecutor.

but you don’t falter, not until you firmly lock yourself behind your door and bar it with the chairs.

“oh, sweetie,” he croons— how did he reach your door so fast?— hs voice muffled by the wall between you but still ever so loud and intimidating. “do you think some puny door can stop me?” a pause. your mouth is over your lips in a desperate attempt to stifle your whimpers. “oh. looks like you do. tsk tsk, you’re as stupid as ever.”

“i dooon’t get it.” how is he so lighthearted about this?! a flash of the blood on his face and its piercing smell, makes you double over as you think about it. “why are you being like this? we can finally— finally!— put an end to your suffering? those... whores, why we can take care of them, right this instant! [your name], my love, tell me—”

BANG. his palm strikes the wood as he breathes out a hollow question.

“what are you so scared of?”

you don’t know what comes over you. honestly, you should’ve just shut up. but you answer, much to your own chagrin.

you barely lift your hands before you hoarsely whimper, “you.”

he laughs lowly, both disbelief and frustration seeping in his voice. “me? you’re scared of me? me?”

“you ungrateful piece of—”

he stops himself, but you wish that he hadn’t. you don’t like it when he puts on an effort to be nice. you know how cruel and downright sadistic he can be, being the only other person to ever truly know his colors (the others were his parents, and they were dead), so why should he hold himself back? perhaps the spitefu, poisonous words would lessen the impact of the physical blow you know is coming next.

he breathes out a sigh and leans his forehead against the wall. “... [your name], please.” his voice is soft, shaky, and you falter at how weak he sounds. the childe you know puts on a cocky act and grabs anyone by the throat whenever they cross him. but right now...

“please,” he pleads again. “you’re the only one i have left.”

“go away.” before you fall for his weak act again.

“no one understands me like you do.”

“go. away.”

“no one will ever understand you like i do.”

you grit your teeth at that, not being able to help the overwhelming sense of loneliness washing over you, but you stay silent nevertheless. childe continues on.

“who was the one who stood up for you after they all turned their backs on you? who was the one who comforted you when you were feeling down? who was the one who let you hide in my bedroom after that incident, hm? who— fuck, [your name]! tell me! — who cleaned up your fucking mess after that slip-up? huh? HUH?” he slammed on the door, and you flinched as you continued to curl up. “[YOUR NAME]! TELL ME!”

“i, i didn’t—!” your horrible deeds, the blood on your hands, they flash right in front of your eyes no matter how tight you squeeze them shut. “i didn’t ask you to do any of those things! never...! especially... especially!”

“you goddamn bitch.” he sounds so venomous. so terrifying. for a split second you wished for the boy who laughed and made faces to cheer you back to com back, but you knew that that was an impossibility. “what did i expect? you— ha!— you’re gonna throw me away again?! like how you threw me away for an hour of that asshole’s time?!” thoma, thoma wasn’t an asshole, but you knew that childe’s frantic state of mind wouldn’t listen to you. not like he’d listen when he’s calm. “you’re just like everyone else! you’d throw me away the moment i don’t benefit you!”

the thundering of your heart only furthers to make his voice pound in your ears. the chairs jostle and shudder every time he slams his body against the door, and you flinch every time. he’s so, so loud, and you want just a moment’s time to yourself. a time to recollect your thoughts and go over your sins. but childe is yelling like the devil wronged, and the moonlight’s pale gaze directs your sight to a spot on the floor. your breath hitches.

there it is. your way out. your savior. a pistol, laying so beautifully on the floor, ready for you to pick it up by the handle and press the barrel against your temple.

it’s frightening how you don’t hesitate for even a moment as your shaking fingers scramble for the gun. but taking everything into account, the bullying, your parents’ neglect, and your frustration bursting into bloody murder, perhaps this was to be expected. you’ve finally made your mark on this world with a few bodies splayed and a dozen stolen cars crashed, now all that was left to go out with a bang.

it presses so refreshingly against your thumping temple, and a sigh of relief escapes your lips. childe’s yells and slamming are all background noise now. the cool barrel slots so perfectly at the slight dip of your temple.

dear gods, you think to yourself. this was truly a miserable life.

maybe you’d get lucky in the next. maybe the people in charge of the afterlife would think you were too dangerous to be allowed a second chance. as long as it’s not here, in your dreary abandoned house and a madman you once loved outside your house, you’d be content anywhere.

as you take a deep breath to steel your nerves, you close your eyes and... a creeping hand, crusty with dried blood, wraps itself around your wrist.

“not allowed, my dear, you’re not allowed.”

your eyes fly open, and you shakily look into your lover’s deep, dead eyes, noticing how his smile splits his face and complements the blood staining his cheeks. he lets out a low whistle when he sees the frightened look on your face.

“hoo, babe, did you— did you really think you could leave me like that? burst your guts on the floor and leave me hanging at your door? i knew you were cruel but jeez.” he pulls your face closer to his and pierces his eyes through yours. “i didn’t know you were that cruel. and besides,” he chuckles. “only i’m the one allowed to blow your brains out.”

what sounded like a dirty joke to him sounded like a underlying threat to you. maybe it was both. knowing him, he’d be happy enough to do both at the same time.

“i, i don’t want this anymore,” you croak out. archons, you were so tired of crying and sobbing. he has the audacity to rearrange his smile into a mocking sympathetic one.

“well, darling, you asked me to clean your shit. you dragged me into all of this. you—” he cocks your gun to his head and simpers at you. “will take responsibility for your poor, poor hostage.”

“we’re finishing what you fucking started.”

#yandere childe #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin imagines #genshin headcanons #yandere x reader #yanderecore #yandere x you #yandere genshin imagines #genshin childe #childe x reader #yandere childe x reader #yester.writes

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k-dokja · 2 years

Text

You didn’t think much of Duke’s upcoming trip to Korea.

And from his attitude, you assumed he didn’t either.

Too easy smile paired with bright red eyes which gleamed under the light. Everything about him spoke the ease of someone waiting for a ride in the amusement park, not someone about to tread into uncharted territory.

“Let’s go on a date when I return,” Duke wraps a strand of your hair around his finger, turning it into a playful curl, “I have tickets to this play downtown. You'll like it."

"I didn't know you like watching plays." You feigned interest to appease him. "What it's about?"

"Guess~" He chimed playfully. "If you got it right, I'll give you a reward."

The idea was simply ludicrous. It was one thing if he was into plays before, this was another ordeal altogether. You didn't have the patience to play his little games, not at this moment anyway. So you deflected him with a pout and put on your best puppy dog eyes, "Ugh, how do you expect me to get it out of the blue? It's impossible."

It was thankfully a good move to make because your little protest had sparked a new interest in his eyes. That alone gave you a better leg up than expected. "How about this...? You can get ten guesses of what it's about, and if you get five guesses, I'll tell you what the title is," then with a mischievous grin, he added, "for each correct guess, I'll give you a kiss."

“Fine,” it didn’t stop your pouting but at least the game wasn’t rigged entirely in his favor, though you couldn’t help but think that this was an elaborate scheme for him to kiss you, “Is it drama?”

Duke laughed softly, “All plays are drama, that doesn’t count.”

You blew a raspberry at him, “Is it in modern setting?”

After brief contemplation, he nodded, “Yes, you can say that.”

The small victory had you made a little cheer. Before you could further mull over what his answer meant, however, Duke leaned over to you and pressed his lips on your forehead.

“That was one,” in front of your surprised blinking, he only chuckled, “I never said where I would kiss.”

“Cheeky,” you deadpanned at him before returning your previous task of guesswork. There was only so much you knew about plays. Having to narrow it down was not easy when Duke never gave you a hint to begin with. “Is it a musical?”

“Hmm,” Duke pretended to think it over this time, “yes.”

“Getting warmer!” You clapped in excitement. “Is it tragic?”

In response, he reached under your chin and lifted your face to meet his eyes. The only answer you got from him was two light pecks, one on each cheeks. “You’re on a roll,” he winked, “just two more.”

You pressed your lips together. A little giddy because of his affection, but more so because you managed to get more right than expected. Though, if you thought about it harder, Duke might have rigged it in your favour instead. That line of thinking was immediately shut down, however.

“Does it have romance?”

“Most plays have romance,” he tilted his head to the side, his smile amused, “doesn’t count.”

Slightly deflated by the sudden end to your streak of victory, you pouted again, “Does it set in a school?"

"So close," this time, Duke rewarded you with a kiss on your nose, "just one more guess."

At this end of the line, you couldn't help but want to make the final guess count. You ran your thoughts through the past guess you made, piecing the clues together to see whether it was something you already knew. "Hmm... wait, you think I will like it," you recalled suddenly, "is it Heathers?"

"And you got it right all by yourself too," he leaned over and kissed you sweetly on the lips, the softness of his actions left you tingling with affection, "I think you deserve the grand prize for that alone."

"Wait... you got us tickets to Heathers?" Immediately, your jubilance overloaded your other senses. You jumped up enthusiastically before putting your hand on his shoulder and pulling him back to you. "Duke!"

Your joy was contagious. Soon, even Duke joined in with your laughter while you peppered his face with kisses. The two of you finally calmed down with a final, lasting one on the lips. You could feel him smiling against yours, his adoration apparent.

"Mhm, I was doing this as a treat for your recent academic achievement," he mused, "but It seems like I'm the one who's getting rewarded instead."

You kissed him again, on the chin this time, "I'll save the rest for when you returned."

That alone had his eyes darkened with unspoken promise. "Can't wait." And from the way your chest swelled with affection, you couldn't wait either.

#duke grane #duke grane x reader #eleceed #eleceed x reader #fics

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voxmortuus · 3 years

Note

Hey! Wondering if you could do a Dom!Jason Dean x fem!reader? Where she tried to go to the police and JD kidnaps her? Degrading, warnings of murder, and blood play? Please? I really like your writing.

PAIRING: Dom!Jason Dean x Fem!Reader

UNIVERSE: Heathers

WORDS: 780

SUMMARY/PROMPT: See above <3

NOTE: Sorry if this isn’t what you expected, I’m hoping this finds you well love! I'M SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG TO GET OUT!!!

IMAGE CREDIT: Google I DO NOT CLAIM OWNERSHIP OF THESE IMAGES. If these are yours or you know who the creator(s) is please INBOX me and let me know. Thank you.

My Master Masterlist | Taglist

REQUESTS: 500 FOLLOWER EVENT REQUESTS ARE CLOSED!

Crazy: adjective, noun, and adverb. Meaning? Unusually offensive, showing as mentally unstable, unable to think clearly or sensibly, wild and uncontrollable. As a noun, it means one who acts crazy, and as an adverb, it means something is crazy good. Synonyms: Adjective: absurd, bizarre, fanciful, fantastic (also fantastical), foolish, insane, nonsensical, preposterous, unreal, wild. Synonyms: Noun: bug, crackbrain, fool, fruitcake, head case, loon, loony, lunatic, maniac, nut, nutcase, nutter [British slang], psycho, psychopath, sickie, sicko, wacko (also whacko).

All of these things are JD to a T. Unstable, wild, and uncontrollable. And yet, somehow in my clouded judgment, I think he's fantastic! But something has to give- something has to turn around and put JD in his place. We can't keep doing this, getting away with these crimes against innocent people. Though he would tell me that I am likely being irrational and that they aren't really innocuous. What if he's right? What if he's actually onto something?

Sitting in your living room, you're looking at your phone. You hear JD in your head. "Don't do it." he says. "You know better." he tells you. His voice playing over and over again in your head. You stand up and begin to pace in front of the phone. Taking in a deep breath, you reach for the telephone and dial 9-1-1, and wait. When they pick up, you start telling them you need to report crimes. When they start asking for details, your phone starts to make the sound of a dial tone.

You look around and find JD on the other side of the wall, and he shakes his head.

"I warned you, Y/N. You shouldn't have done that." He sighs, and grabs you by your hair, and drags you out of your house. You begin to kick and scream. JD stops and looks down at you with such a heavy sigh and a shake of his head. "That's not going to get you anywhere. Now, shut up, and be a good girl, yeah?"

At this moment, you hate him- you despise him. He throws you in his trunk and drives off. Screaming, punching, and kicking at the car, he turns up the volume of the music and does a break check to jolt the car to get you to stop. Defeated, you close your eyes and just pray he doesn't kill you two like he murdered those girls.

The looks of horror on their faces when he shot them, the sounds of their screams, the sounds of their silence as they hit the floor. The blood that had begun to pool around them. You tense and close your eyes, letting out a heavy breath.

Finally, the car stops. He lifts the trunk door and looks over you. "Don't make me kill you too." He asserted, licking his lips and pulling you from the trunk.

You nod and follow him into this building. With some quick-acting, he handcuffed you to the pole in the center of the abandoned building. You look over at him, you clench your jaw and snarl, you want to scream, but chances are, knowing JD, that wouldn't make a bit of difference. He clearly thought this out, and it infuriated you.

JD smirks and makes his way over to you. "You know, Y/N, you can never leave me. You're mine now. I can do whatever I'd like. Whenever I'd like. I can slice and dice ya. I can fuck you into next week... oh, the possibilities." He smirked.

You bite your lip, shaking your head, your eyes well in tears, and you bite your lip hard enough it starts to bleed, dripping down your chin. He looks over your face. "I love it when you cry." The closer he gets to you, the more you want to back up, but you can't.

You close your eyes and turn your face away- so you're not looking at him. He grips your jaw and leans in, and licks the blood from your chin. With a smirk and a manic laugh he takes the knife from his back pocket and cuts you along your collarbone and licks at the blood that begins to pool. He groans, which causes you to groan.

"That's it, pretty girl, enjoy it. Embrace it." He purrs against your ear as his hands work at your clothing. Your free hand finds its way to his excited bulge and you chuckle.

"You're fucking crazy JD."

"But I'm your crazy... Pretend to be scared, you get so wet when you do. Crazy little slut you." He mused.

"Am I your crazy slut?" You ask.

"My filthy slut." He smirks against your skin licking at your blood again.

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finelinevogue · 3 years

Note

Can you do one where Harry take his children and YN to one of his concert and their just dancing around singing along on stage with Harry.

i love this concept so much!! i kinda of wanna make it sad though soooo it’s gonna be harry’s final show :/ hope you enjoy;

oli - 29, felix - 27, belle - 24

The concert had been amazing, but unfortunately it was coming to its’ end now.

The final show.

That’s what Harry had decided to call it; a clever play on words with reference to his first ever solo single. The last 50 years had been a rollercoaster for Harry, from growing up just a kid in Cheshire, to going on the X Factor and winning the hearts of millions and from being in the most successful band of the decade to going solo and still being absolutely beloved. Times had changed, though. Harry had changed. He had a beautiful family of 3 now, excluding his wonderful wife. His children were his universe, no question about it, but they were getting older now - Harry was getting older. He was 50 this year and with that in mind he’d decided to retire. Retiring had involved a long conversation with you, along with a bottle of red wine, about whether it was the right decision or not. But it was - is.

You had suggested he put on one final, massive show, to celebrate his life and his achievements along with all that the fans have too. Tickets were open internationally and it was being streamed on various TV outlets for those who couldn’t attend. The tickets sold within 47 seconds. 47 seconds. It was being held in the Olympic Stadium in London, because it was Harry’s home and it held the most number of people he could genuinely allow.

The concert had started with ‘Fine Line’ songs, which merged into HS1 songs with a few One Direction songs as well. The entire set list had been composed by the fans with various polls on social media, with the concert supposedly lasting 2 hours (although with support artists and a few extra surprises it was more likely going to be 3!)

It had been beautiful so far. Magical. Unforgettable.

Every chance he got, without making it grossly obvious, he looked at you. He'd told you to stick your thumbs up at him every time he caught your eye, so he knew that you were okay - and every time, you did.

The concert was coming to an end now, which everyone was dreading. How could +30 years feel like it'd only been thirty minutes? You were devastated, so you could only imagine what his fans were thinking.

"Hey!"

The end Kiwi, for the second time, strummed throughout the arena and you knew it was time for the final song. His final song.

"Mum, is this the end?" Belle asked you, from where she was standing next to you. You had been dancing together all night and gotten progressively more tired. Your feet hurt. Your throats burned. Yet, as always, it was so worth it.

"Yes, Belles, it is." You tell her, and she pouted sadly. "Dad won't want to see you sad love, okay? He can still sing to you before bed?" You teased her, reminding her of a time when Harry would do such a thing, not wanting her to be all sad. It was supposed to be a celebration, but even you could admit that is was pretty hard-hitting.

"Really mum?" She asked.

You booped her nose annoyingly, before answering. "Every night if you want him to."

The lights changed from their green tone, thanks to Kiwi, back to a bright, white light. It beamed on Harry, making him look even more like the angel that he is. He dragged his microphone back to the centre stage and took a deep breath for beginning a speech he'd told you he'd prepared.

"So this is it, my friends." He laughed sadly into the microphone. He brushed his hair back and took out his in-ears to hear the audience. They were all awwing and crying, but what else did you expect? Their favourite artist was retiring - who wouldn't be crying a river?

"I, um. I'd like to take a bit of time to thank certain people." He coughed, something he always did after performing Kiwi due to his asthma. You thought it was lovely that he'd planned a speech to thank his management and crew. They did so much work backstage and you definitely didn't think they got enough credit for their hard work.

"Okay. I've made a little list..." Harry pulled out a tiny bit of crumpled paper from his pocket. "Just in case I forget anyone." He joked to himself, but made everyone laugh anyways. "So I guess first off, I should start with you lovely people." He pointed around the whole stadium, showing he was talking about the fans. "What you have done for me is indescribable. I think to myself, everyday, am I worthy of even being here—"

"Yes!" An army of agreement echoed around the arena, making Harry stop, blush and smile to himself.

"Well thank you! Um. You have been the best fans ever, and I know you will continue to be. I know you don't owe me anything, but all I ask you to keep loving yourselves and treating people with kindness, because I know I can count on you lot to do that, for me." He sniffled at the end, making you bite your lip to prevent the tears from falling for you. He looked so vulnerable right now, but you knew he'd be feeling on top of the world.

"Jheez." He sniffles again. "That's one thank you down and i'm already crying." He looked to his band to share the joke with.

“Dad’s such a wuss.” Oli laughed, holding his arm around Beas waist, making the people around you chuckle in agreement.

“Shut up you - Mr-tears-in-your-eyes!” You pointed out, laughing as he flipped you the bird - which then got him a hit off his grandma Anne.

All of Harrys family and friends were here, in a special cornered off section. It was such a thoughtful thing for Harry to do. All his family, and a fair few of yours, were sat down along with Harrys closest friends. Everyone was sharing laughs and drinks, whilst using every inch of space to dance along to your husbands boastful music.

"Secondly, my touring family. From Jeff and Ben, to Sarah's Kitchen, Adam, Mitch, Sarah, Charlotte and Nyoh, not forgetting everyone backstage and behind the lights, music and cameras. You've all been the greatest. Everything you do is second to none. You're all talented, warm-hearted, people whom I will carry in my heart forever. Thank you." You noticed members of the crew and band starting to tear up now.

"Moving on to my boys. We've been through it all, lads, and I couldn't have asked for four better brothers than you all. Louis. Liam. Niall. Zayn. Thank you." Everyone cheered ten times louder, maybe because this was as close to a One Direction reunion as the fans were ever going to get, but definitely because Harry had mentioned Zayn. You saw a girl faint at the mere mention of all the boys in the same sentence. The boys lifted up their beers to Harry, stood close by to where you were standing.

"I guess I should say thank you to the women who made all this possible. Mum. Gem. Thank you for signing me up all those years ago. Thank you for believing in me. You've made me the - crap, sorry! - the man I am now and I love you both." Harry prayed to them both, whilst bowing, and swiftly wiped away the tears afterwards. Anne and Gemma, on the other hand, were proudly crying.

"Ol, Fix and Belles. You rascals make me get out of bed every morning and give me more of a purpose in life. You four give me so much joy and happiness. I love you all, even if you do drive me up the wall on an early Saturday morning! Thank you, my loves." You stood close to all your children, giving them the support they needed in this moment. Belle was crying against your chest, the ever-so-emotional woman she was. Felix was stood up, with Heather, with his drink raised to his dad. Oli was to your side, trying to remain cool and stoic, but you still caught the tears that ran down his face.

"Now." The audience calmed down again after awing over your babies. Harry cleared his throat before beginning again. "This evening keeps on reminding me of a very special person in my life. Someone who is my everything and that's my beautiful wife, Y/N." His words make your breath hitch in your throat. You never expected him to say anything about you. I mean, what had you done?

"Mum." Belle called out to you, in affirmation that this was real.

"She's more than just a wife. She's a lover. She's my muse. She's my best-fucking-friend, apologises for swearing but sue me. I was hesitant to let go of all this, at first. What would I do with myself now? You know? People tell me i'm 'happiest on stage', and for a time that was true. Until I met Y/N. She's made me realise that family makes me the happiest. She makes me the happiest." He jumped down off stage, taking the microphone with him. He ran his hands along the fans in the front row, but had no intention of stopping until he met you.

You felt Belle leaving your side, but you were too captivated by Harry to fully understand what was happening.

"So what am I going to do now, you ask? Well..." Harry cheekily smiled at you. "I'm going to make her the happiest woman alive, just as she makes me the happiest man." You began to cry again and the chorus of thousands of fans clapping and screaming surrounds you, only to all stop when his lips meet yours. He tasted like a combination of salty sweat and mint, but he was home. After a minute of crying, kissing and 'i love yous' , Harry ran back to the stage before Jeff could shoot him.

"Thank you all. All my love." He said whilst adjusting his microphone. "Please sing along if you know the words." He asked, full well knowing every single person will be screaming out the lyrics to him.

"Just stop you're crying it's the sign of the times. Welcome to the final show. Hope you're wearing your best clothes."

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