this completely went over my head as a kid
talking to people about my obsessions pretending im just a casual fan
We know who you are, we’ve heard all about you, but hearing is one thing.
Tatiana Maslany on Jordan Gavaris
↳"It’d be amazing to play a clone that was like Jordan [Gavaris]. He’s like so opposite of Felix, it’s unbelievable. He’s like kind of country, always baking, just like watching Murder She Wrote. He has like the weird little Southern twang. Just like the sweetest guy on the planet. It would be really cool to play somebody like… I just want to play Jordan. I just want to be Jordan really."
When Dean Winchester finally dies (for good, this time), Death takes a holiday.
He spends a week going to every fair and carnival in the continental US.
He eats every deep fried concoction possible.
When his holiday comes to an end, he goes to Heaven and knocks on the pearly gates with the head of his cane. He asks to speak with Dean Winchester.
Dean is surprised to find Death there when the angels bring him forward. Death swore that their last meeting, when Death personally escorted Dean’s soul to Heaven, would be the final time they ever saw one another.
“I found it,” Death tells him. “The perfect pie. It was in Muncie, Indiana. Apple, with a flaky, golden crust. The ratio of cinnamon to sugar and its balance with the tart Granny Smith…. it was just perfect. Divine, even.”
Dean stares at Death, unsure of why he is telling him this, but then he looks down. In Death’s hand is a wrinkled, white paper bag. Inside the bag is a slice of the perfect pie.
Dean takes the bag, mystified.
“Thanks for the pickle chips that time,” Death says, then disappears into the void.
did you just give me Death/Dean bromance feels
#And Dean turns back and walks back into the gates#He treks up an inclined road until it flattens and curves around#When he reaches his heaven Dean raises a free hand above his head and yells #’SAM#CAS #LOOKIT! PIE!’ (x)
This is probably going to get quoted in every publication just because I said it. And I’m not even saying anything. I’m not talking about my films, I’m not talking about my life, and I’m not talking about the world. And yet, the media will print it simply because I said it. And at this moment in time, I bet there is an artist around the corner of this hotel, on the street, with a mind far beyond ours, but we will never listen to him simply because he has not appeared in a movie. And that is what is fucked up about our culture.
Some of my snapchats~
have you thought of capitalising on your skills