timothy olyphant could totally play an older version on sam on the show
like someone call cw right now
and Karl Urban could play an older Cas
holy shit please
if i don’t get karl urban on the mothfer fucking show i will scream dammit!
YES FOR THE WIN.
that means Jeremy Renner could play an older Dean
perfection In a post
Asked by Anonymous
Hello, anon, and thank you for the question.
This topic has been studied by researchers for years. There are three prevailing theories that I will relay to you now.
1. It keeps him on the ground.
You may notice in the gif above that Chris’ leg starts to rise as he laughs, possibly a precursor to his entire body undergoing a sort of lift off due to his joy. Chris then employs his upper body strength to force himself to obey the laws of gravity.
2. To check on his physique.
As you may be aware, anon, it takes a lot of hard work to maintain a superhero body. Chris is concerned that in the time he has spent sitting down, sans working out or eating, he has lost muscle mass. Understandably, he feels the need to make sure that he is still a specimen.
3. Object permanence.
Object permanence is a term applied to the understanding that an object still exists even when you cannot see it. Chris closes his eyes when he laughs, making him unable to see that he has not disappeared. By grabbing his left boob, Chris knows that he has not somehow ceased to exist.
I hope this helps.
I think the “butterfly effect” that I have spoken of so often was at work here. In the novels, Jaime is not present at Joffrey’s death, and indeed, Cersei has been fearful that he is dead himself, that she has lost both the son and the father/ lover/ brother. And then suddenly Jaime is there…
Typical. Whenever she needed a cab, there was never an available cab in sight. Hell, she’d take an unavailable cab and pay the fare for everyone if someone would just take her away from the whiny asshole who’d followed her out of the club who wanted her to “just let him explain.”
Yeah, she didn’t need him to explain why his hand kept wandering to places they shouldn’t have been when he’d tried to dance with her. She also didn’t need to land herself a spot in jail by decking him. Just as she was debating the merits of stepping into the path of an oncoming taxi just to get it to stop, she heard a voice behind her. It was not the whiny asshole. It was worse.
"Need a lift?"
Darcy grimaced as she turned to face Steve Rogers on his motorcycle. Captain America, and apparently, the man who Jane had appointed to be her babysitter. Not that Darcy needed babysitting. She was a grown woman, dammit.
"What are you doing here?"
Steve shrugged. “I was in the neighborhood.” Right. His neighborhood was Brooklyn, and that was clear across town. Steve nodded politely to the asshole behind her. “Who’s your friend?”
"Nobody," Darcy growled. She wasn’t entirely sure if she was growling at Steve or the asshole. Either worked. "He was just leaving."
Thankfully, the asshole left, apparently deciding that she wasn’t worth fighting a six foot wall of muscle. Darcy was just thankful that he didn’t cause a scene…the last thing she wanted was to make Steve think that she actually needed his help.
"So do you need a ride?"
Darcy narrowed her eyes. “Did Jane send you to check up on me?”
"Not saying she did," Steve said cheerfully, "but if she sent me it’s because she loves you and thinks you should make better choices.”
"And do you think I need to make better choices, Mr. Rogers?” Darcy asked, her voice dangerously soft.
Steve just kept on grin. “Like I said, I was just in the neighborhood. You coming or not?”
For a moment she debated not, but considering her lack of cab success and the fact that her feet hurt and she just wanted to go home, Darcy decided to suck it up and take the ride. She stomped over to him. Childish, maybe, but it made her feel a little better.
“I need to make better choices?” Darcy muttered to herself. “Who’s the idiot on the motorcycle without the helmet?”
A motorcycle helmet was thrust into her line of sight. “I was saving it for you.”
Darcy tried not to be touched by that. She scowled instead, even as she snatched the helmet from his outstretched hand. “There are safety regulations, you know.”
Steve smirked. “Guess my memory’s going in my old age.”
This is how I write porn. It starts off just fine, with normal sentence structure. You think everything’s okay. Suddenly, the sentences start getting a little longer, nothing crazy, but they’re no longer quite grammatically accurate, just a few too many clauses and not…