It has been almost a week since your SPN family sat in front of their TV screens in awe of the season 8 finale. If everything was as it should be, you probably would have watched it with us, live tweeting occasional comments and interacting with friends, fans and fellow cast members. I imagine you would have experienced a few anxious feelings wondering how the episode would be received, but after a while you would have relaxed a bit, and allowed yourself to absorb the joy of knowing that the show was a success. It should have been an hour of exhilaration and professional pride for you. Instead of basking in excitement, however, I know you are completely consumed with a family crisis right now, so I assume you either missed the show entirely or have not had the time or the heart to tune into fan reactions. At some point in the future, though, when your life starts to return to normal, you will check in with Twitter and emails again, you will think about work again, and you might just have a fleeting sadness that you missed the enthusiasm that surrounded the season’s end. You gave so much of yourself to us in that episode that I thought we should return the favor. So I would like to capture here the thoughts and feelings of as many fans as possible while the finale’s effect on us is still raw and unmuted by the passage of time.
Jared, your performance in “Sacrifice” was nothing less than stunning. The entire episode was a masterpiece, but your portrayal of Sam’s suffering and heartbreak was breathtaking, literally. Every analyst’s review and fan comment I have read has used words like “award-winning” and “ground breaking” with phrases like “raised the bar yet again” and “hit it out of the park”. You brought passion to every minute of Sam’s self-doubt, physical pain and human need. The scenes with Mark Sheppard were touching, believable and transformative. (You have mentioned that working with a variety of other actors stretches your creative capabilities, so I am so glad you got a chance to craft that scene with such a deeply talented actor as Mark. Together, the two of you struck a perfect balance between intensity and sensitivity, resulting in an incredibly moving character exposé.) Then Sam’s climatic revelation to Dean was arguably the most poignant scene in the series. It was long ago established that you and Jensen have unmatched chemistry, and while he added immeasurably to the emotion of that dialogue, you truly owned that moment. Your gut-wrenching confession of (perceived) failure was a window into our most guarded human frailties. You showed us a human’s soul, leaving our hearts pounding and our nerves wrecked. (I can’t imagine filming that scene several times to get the angles, camera shots, etc. perfect. You had to go through that over and over again!)
I can’t say I’m surprised. While your acting is always superb, over the past eight years you have given us several outstanding performances as Sam. You reduced us to puddles of empathy in “Heart” (s2), “Croatoan”(s2) and “Mystery Spot”(s3). We enjoyed your humor and comedic timing through entire episodes of “Bad Day at Black Rock” (s3), “The French Mistake” (s6) and “Plucky Pennywhistle’s Magical Menagerie” (s7), as well as through quick one-liners, as in “Reading is Fundamental” (s7). You left us awed in horror as you transformed yourself into a mocking and sinister Possessed!Sam in “Born Under a Bad Sign” (s2), showed us unforgiving rage in “Fresh Blood” (S3), then mystified us as you delivered a haunting, emotionless Soulless!Sam in season 6. There have been the intense, highly emotional scenes such as those in “I Know What You Did Last Summer” (s4), “Sex and Violence” (s4), “When the Levee Breaks” (s4), “Swan Song”(s5), “The Man Who Knew Too Much”(s6) and “Hello Cruel World” (s7) (Sorry…I started out to list just a few of my personal favorites but the list just kept growing!). Then, at the end of season 8, you began the road to your best performance yet in “The Great Escapist”. None of these achievements, though, prepared us for the perfection we saw in the finale, in “Sacrifice”. Your vulnerability was gripping and unforgettable.
Without taking away from the prior seasons’ accomplishments, the distinction that elevated this episode’s performance was that the impact did not come from what was happening in the scene. The audience was not affected by watching you die from being stabbed in the back, or watching Dean be killed after a season of trying to save him. We were not watching you kill Lilith or raise Lucifer. No, the power of your scenes came solely and completely from what was said and how it was said. There was only dialogue. There were simple movements like you drawing blood on yourself, holding a syringe up to Crowley or showing your arms to Dean but these were there only to support the dialogue. The intensity of the moment came entirely from the honesty of the human emotion. The movements of your eyes, voice inflections, breath, posture, the way you walked, the way you stood and the heartbreak in your face all delivered the dominance of this episode. Acting at its absolute finest.
During the New Jersey convention panel, Jensen said you were “wrecked” after filming the finale. With all respect, you did look tired. Then when your family crisis happened and you had to leave Rome unexpectedly, Jensen said you were “heartbroken” about missing Jus In Bello. He said that interacting with fans rejuvenates both of you and that talking to fans is what makes the long hours of your filming schedule worth it. So ironically, while we were watching a fictional show about sacrifices, you were being asked to make a real life sacrifice of your own for the good of your family. Hopefully, though, our comments give back to you some of that wonderfully grateful, positive enthusiasm that you missed. I wasn’t one of the people affected by your absence in Italy or England, but I know I can speak for at least some of them when I say there is no need to explain further or to feel bad. We are your family too. We understand. We are proud of what you did and we support you.
Our love to you, Genevieve and her family. Our thoughts, hopes and good wishes are with you all. When you are ready, read these comments, and understand what your performance meant to us.
Love and gratitude
Your SPN family
REBLOG THIS AND SIGN YOUR URL IF YOU THINK THIS BEAUTIFUL 1967 CHEVY IMPALA (4 door) SHOULD BE PUT BACK IN PRODUCTION AND SOLD, LIKE, EVERYWHERE.
yes please! terribly disappointed they faded out bench seats as well…. sniff
YES! PLEASE I DESPERATELY WANT ONE
I’M SORRY PLEASE DON’T KILL ME!
I FUCKING HATE THESE I’M CRYINGGGGGGGGGGGG
I’\M IN TEARS AND I MADE THEM!!!
WHYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY? IT HURTS SO MUCH
ALL ABOARD THE NOPE TRAIN TO FUCK THAT VILLE!
fairywine answered: Little Cas and Dean together, with babysitter!Sam? PLEASE MAKE THIS HAPPEN!
“GIMME BACK MY ANGEL!!!!!”
“Dean, Cas isn’t a commodity! And you can have him back when you—OW, STOP THAT!!!!”
“Dean! You can play with Cas when you stop pulling on his wings.”
Cas sniffled into Sam’s shoulder and peered down at Dean who was tugging uselessly on the leash Sam had to wrap around him. He kept wandering off and tugging little Castiel around with him, determined to help him feed the ducks.
Dean stopped his war with the leash to glare and pout at Sam the only way a child can.
“Sam, Cas likes it! He told me so!”
Sam sighed and knelt down, letting Castiel’s feet touch the floor and let his wings flutter to the side.
“Cas? Is that true?”
Cas shyly ducked his head. “I like it sometimes but,” he stopped to glare at Dean, his tiny wings ruffling angrily. “Dean! Sometimes you pull too hard an’ it hurts.”
Cas felt his eyes water a little and he burrowed his head into Sam’s jacket. All of Dean’s fight when out of him and he looked helplessly at Sam. Sam pulled a face that looked like he smelled something nasty and also looked like an ‘I-told-you-so’ was on the horizon.
Dean hated when Sam was right.
He shuffled up to his angel and stroked a hand down Cas’ wings before resting on his back. “‘m sorry, Cas. I won’t touch your wings no more.”
Castiel’s head whipped around and glared at Dean. “No!” He blushed and shuffled even closer to Dean so there was very little space between them. “I like when you touch, just don’t tug, ‘kay?”
Dean nodded vigorously and reached around to hug his friend. He laughed when Castiel’s wings fluttered happily and knocked Dean around the ears.
Dean reached for the second harness at the end of Sam’s stupid kid leash and hooked Castiel into the restraint before grabbing his angel’s hand.
He looked up at Sam.
“C’mon, Sammy! Ducks!”
Sam’s mouth was hanging open and he felt the two little monsters in his care tug at the leash.
Cas looked up at him, tugging on his leash. “Come, Sam. Dean and I must provide for the ducklings! It’s the rules.”
Dean grinned and high-fived his friend before they both wrapped pudgy hands around the red harness and pulled. Between the two of them, they managed to get Sam walking towards the lake.
Sam just shook his head, baffled at the strange relationship between the baby angel and Dean. Kids these days.
I DIDN’T THINK IT WAS POSSIBLE TO DIE FROM CUTE BUT THERE YOU GO
AsylumWaiting Room of the Big Three.
it’s funny because it looks like the sherlock fandom are sane here
Sherlock bustled about the kitchen, throwing a cupboard door open and pushing aside a box of nicotine patches to retrieve two mismatched mugs. A kettle whistled plaintively in the background, like it had been trying to draw attention to itself for a while now. Setting the mugs aside, Sherlock absently pulled the kettle off the stove, poured tea into the two mugs, and carried them into the living room.
Doctor Who was sprawled over the same chair it had collapsed into last night, when it had appeared at the door muttering inanely about lost regenerations and knackered navigations systems. It made a whining noise as Sherlock tucked the shock blanket it had thrown off in the night back around its shoulders.
Supernatural was in similar straits, curled up on the floor with a throw pillow and a tattered trench coat around its shoulders and alternating between sobbing and muttering about domesticity potential.
A thudding on the stairs indicated the ruckus had finally awoke Merlin, who poked its head into the room, hair sticking up at all angels as it tied its scarf around its neck. Blinking blearily at the mess, it seemed to realize what had occurred when it picked up a discarded bow-tie from the floor, holding it between forefinger and thumb, “Is it that time already?”
“It was bad this year,” Sherlock whispered, trying not to exacerbate the already fragile fandoms under its care.
“I remember what that was like,” Merlin muttered, running a hand through its hair and pulling a cape off the nearby coat rack, “I’ll go to the store. We’re out of milk again. May as well pick up some fish fingers, custard, and salt.”
Supernatural gurgled something quietly.
“No, I won’t forget the pie.”