airplane out

Steve Extra™ Rogers 

  • runs through walls and tears down whole buildings instead of wasting time to open a door
  • punches computers when they say things he doesn’t like 
  • jumps out of airplanes without parachutes to be a show off
  • is always Down to Die™
  • squeezes himself and his two best friends into a fucking vw bug
  • had peggy carter, one of the loves of his life, one of the founders of SHIELD, a gift to the world, on her death bed say “you’re always so dramatic”
  • back flips off of insanely high heights and hopes for the best
  • removes avengers label from uniform to be petty

Hey remember that DC/Marvel crossover where Red Skull literally straight-up told the Joker he was a Nazi and the Joker immediately decided to break up their partnership and beat him to death? (He didn’t succeed but he did end up sacrificing his life to make sure Skull also died, so partial credit at least.)

I just think it’s interesting that DC in 1996 managed to do what @marvelentertainment in 2017 hasn’t even got the imagination to do, let alone the courage.

Just a little post in honor of Free Comic Books Day. 

[From Batman & Captain America, 1996.]

Study buddy (Smut)

I often imagine Sehun being the Flirt Master who can get any girl… 

Originally posted by fy-sexo-exo

Pairing: Sehun x Reader

Genre: Smut

Word count: 5543 words

Warning: Rough sex, Public sex, Dirty-Dirty talk, Voyeurism

AU: College!AU


Study buddy

Four standard assumptions of perfectly competitive models – One. Economies of scale are… small relative… to the size of the… market. Two. Output… is homogenous. Three. Information… is… soft- and… fluffy. Four. I want to marry you… sweet, cuddly turtle-bunny-cushion. Something hits the elbow you’re leaning your head upon and you shoot up, slightly panicking. Shit. You had fallen asleep. It was only for a minute; you defend yourself in your mind. Nobody saw you, right?

You lift your hands to rub your eyes but stop yourself in the nick of time. You have almost forgotten that you are wearing black eyeliner and mascara. Thank God you remembered just in time – It would have been a catastrophe if you didn’t.

You look around, pinching your eyes a few times instead and examining the endless array of tables that is populated with college students and their college books, notebooks, markers and pencils. During the exam periods, it’s difficult to find a spot left empty. Outside the College library, there’s typically a line of students waiting to claim a seat, even at this unholy hour of nine pm.

Keep reading

Home Bill Skarsgård x Reader

Warning: None

Request: isthecomet

Prompt: Bill is taking you to Sweden to see his family

Note: I got nothing. Enjoy. XD!

Originally posted by fiaboutella

Originally posted by im-merian

You were nervously fiddling with anything you could find in your reach. Your necklaces, your bracelets, going on the phone, scrolling through the channels in the small tvs, anything to avoid looking outside the window.

You were rather nervous since not only was this the first time you were on an airplane flying out of the country, but you were flying to see your boyfriend Bill Skarsgård’s family. Yes, the famous Swedish family of famous and well known actors were awaiting for your arrival.

This was the first time you’d be meeting them in person, obviously your boyfriend had told them about you a lot and how beautiful and sweet and kind you are. From what you knew Bill’s parents were Stellan and My Skarsgård who had give birth to his older brothers Alexander, Gustaf, and Sam before him and then his little sister Eija and his younger brother Valter.

You were bouncing your leg making the mistake of looking out the window at the dark clouds as the air plane shook from turbulence. You squeaked and gripped onto the arms of the chairs tightly taking sharp breaths.

You felt like you were about to have a panic attack. However a gentle, assuring hand took yours and you looked over to see Bill was looking at you concerned.

“You okay?” He asked.

You gulped and nodded. Bill knew this was your first time flying and gently brushed his thumb against your tense knuckles. Half an hour later the captain announced they were going to landing soon and you sighed in relief only to feel anxiety grow again about meeting the Skarsgård family.

What if they didn’t like you?

What if they thought you were ugly and open about it?

What if they would laugh about how Bill had decided to marry an American girl who didn’t even look pretty?

“(Name)?”

“Mm? I’m fine.” You lied.

“Your nervous about meeting my family, are you?” He said softly.

“A little…” You sighed.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ve sent pictures and Mum said that I picked a beautiful women…and she wasn’t kidding.” Bill said continuing to brush your knuckles.

You blushed lightly at his comments and he chuckled since he liked to make you do that a lot. Sure enough you landed and just as expected Bill’s family were standing there waiting. As soon he walked over they started speaking in their foreign language making you shift uncomfortably, especially when Bill’s father pointed towards you.

“(Name), c'mere!” Bill called.

You nodded and went towards Bill’s side. He wrapped his arm around you and pulled you closer to him making you feel a little comfortable.

“Hello, you must be (Name)?” My asked.

You nodded and she smiled before holding her hands out, “Welcome to the family.”


After the airport drive you and Bill were constantly asked questions about America and how your health and if you were married or a baby on the way (which really turned your face red). The whole time Bill was comfortingly holding your hand allowing you to quickly build some confidence to talk.

You finally arrived to the house and smiled when you noticed they had a trampoline and a pool with a hot tub. You wanted to jump off the trampoline into the pool but pretended not to notice them since this was someone else’s home.

It was more of a mansion-home then a house-home really. Alex was a gentleman and offered to take your suitcase which you accepted since you knew he was just trying to show off to his parents. As soon as you walked in you took your shoes off and Bill lead you around letting you know where the bathrooms and offices and other rooms were.

He finally arrived to his room and sighed as he looked at all of it. Old band posters hung on the wall, the bed was tucked and pressed wrinkle free, a computer with a desk in the corner, two walk in closets, and a beautiful view outside the window.

You walked over to sit on the bed and stare in awe at the crystal clear water in the pool that looked like it came from the Mediterranean Sea. You were in so much awe you didn’t realize Bill was kissing your cheek to get your attention.

You turned towards him and saw him smile, “Sorry about that with my mother. She’s a bit of a pain when it comes to wanting kids and being a grandmother.”

“Well maybe if you kneel down and ask the question I’ll accept.” You teased.

“Me kneel?” Bill scoffed pushing your shoulder gently.

You giggled as you two got into a play fight as he was gently trying to wrestle you to the bed. Eventually he had you pinned down by your wrists and he was sitting on your waist leaning over you.

You were giggling uncontrollably well Bill was breathing heavily from the struggle you put up. It was like one man trying to wrestle and pin down a snake.

“Does the winner get a prize?” He asked.

“Mmm. Depends if he deserves it or not.” You replied.

Bill laughed and leaned down to kiss you. After a few seconds he let go of your wrists to lean more on his arms. You wrapped your arms around his neck pulling him down closer.

“Hey, I know mom wants a kid but you don’t have to listen to her.”

Bill quickly broke away to turn and see his brother Valter was standing there grinning like a cat. Bill threw a pillow towards him yelling at him to get out and his little brother laughed and said, “Alright, alright I’m going. I just came up here cuz Mum wants us down for dinner.”

With that Bills brother walked off leaving you two alone. Bill climbed off of you and helped you up before fixing your hair for you so it didn’t look like you were thinking of fulfilling Bills mothers wishes.

Bill was kind enough to lead you down to the kitchen and sat down at the table. Dishes were already served and it looked like a professional restaurant meal where the soup costs $30. Also you thought it was ironic the meal was Swedish meatballs on top of egg noddles with that light gravy.

You wanted to try Swedish food but…I guess that counted.

Definitely tasted better than the frozen boxed Swedish meatballs you can find in the frozen aisle section. When dinner was over you and Bill headed back upstairs and this time he lead you to your room which was the guest room.

It was just 3 doors down (heh, accidental references/puns :3 and wasn’t as big as his room but it was still much bigger than the normal houses guest rooms. There was a bathroom with a glass shower, a queen sized bed, a giant flat screen tv, and along with your suitcase Alex took, was a tacky shirt laying on the bed that said “I ❤️Sweden”.

You and Bill chuckled at it and you sat down on the oversized bed liking the smoothness of the silk sheets.

“Sorry about my family they’re…..strange, and just happy you had came here.” He apologized.

“Are you kidding me I love your family. I’m just happy they accepted me in.” You replied opening your suitcase.

You were just checking to make sure you had everything from your toiletries to your lingerie (that Bill was eyeing in a perverted way) and especially of course your clothes. Everything was in order and you had enough clothes to stay for 3 days as planned. Bill was lucky since he still had clothes over so all he needed to bring was a duffel bag with a few clothes and supplies.

“Well I’ll be in my room if you need anything okay?” He asked kissing your head.

“Okay.” You replied with a smile.


Later on it was midnight and you were in your guest room but you just couldn’t sleep due to that natural instinct of your brain wanting to remain awake since you were in new surroundings. You tossed and turned but you couldn’t sleep and you didn’t want to bug Bill and wake him up.

You guessed you were just used to sleeping with him at night. Grunting and groaning you climbed out of bed and trudged down the hallway trying to be quiet to not wake anyone up. You arrived to Bill’s door and gently turned it to see he was asleep snoring quietly.

You quietly shut the door and tiptoed to his bed before climbing in right next to him without trying to wake him up. A few minutes later you still couldn’t sleep and you were starting to get frustrated.

You tired that old trick of counting sheep but that didn’t help much either. When you were on sheep 236 you heard Bill’s voice laced with sleep asking, “What are you doing in my bed?”

You rolled over to face him and sighed softly before explaining, “I couldn’t sleep. I tried everything but nothing worked.”

“C'mere.” Bill said opening his arms.

You scooched over to his hug and as soon as his arms wrapped around you, you instantly felt like you were home. Sweden was Bill’s home, your home was in America, but in truth both of your homes were when you were in each others arms.

You snuggled close to him and smiled when you felt him gently kiss your forehead well stroking your hair.


The next couple of days Bill took you around Sweden to see the country. It was such a beautiful and perfect day to go to the beach and splash around in the water. You visited other famous tourist landmarks and went hiking and it was so perfect.

You even tried so many Swedish foods you never heard of before. As much as you loved it here and as much as you loved Bill’s family you sadly had to leave but you had gotten a few souvenirs to remember this place.

The plane ride home was thankfully less terrifying and shaky and you just leaned on Bills shoulder who was satisfied he had gotten his parent’s blessing to finally call you his for the rest of your life….

“Hey Bill?”

“Yeah?”

“Your breath smells like a sheep’s butt.”

“…..love you too.”

Epilogue: Last of isthecomets requests are done so now I can work on the others. I love getting requests from you guys. You guys are awesome for loving Bill. And thanx for reading! =3!

I Know All What I Do | Rating: M | 12,324 Words

Two years after the plague wipes out the majority of the population, leaving the survivors to fight for life, Sansa Stark reunites with Jon Snow in a Walmart parking lot. Then they keep doing what they’ve always done: survive. This time, though, it’s together.

a/n: trigger warning for mentions of rape and abuse

hey here’s an entry for the “humans are space orcs” thing that’s going around:


All self-preservation instincts in the universe are hard-wired to fight or flight and there is no inbetween. you are either a warrior or the ones who run and hide. so aliens marvel in baffled silence at how humans who are visibly terrified actively do shit that they KNOW IS POTENTIALLY FATAL, or at least incredibly dangerous, for kicks. We jump off cliffs, out of airplanes, swim with the sea’s apex predators, and even made a career out of CHASING DOWN DEADLY WEATHER. We eat the spiciest food on the planet, stuff that is used in tear gas, because “think of the bragging rights!”. it isn’t that we don’t know the risks, we do. we just don’t give a shit, and this terrifies all other life in the universe.

Full Esquire Interview - CHRIS EVANS IS READY TO FIGHT

“HIS SUCCESS AS CAPTAIN AMERICA HAS MADE CHRIS EVANS ONE OF HOLLYWOOD’S SURE THINGS, WHICH MEANS HE CAN DO WHATEVER HE WANTS WITH HIS FREE TIME. SO WHY JUMP OUT OF AIRPLANES AND GET INTO IT WITH DAVID DUKE?

BY MAXIMILLIAN POTTERMAR 15, 2017


The Canadian commandos are the first to jump. Our plane reaches an altitude of about eight thousand feet; the back door opens. Although it’s a warm winter day below in rural southern California, up here, not so much. In whooshes freezing air and the cold reality that this is actually happening. Out drop the eight commandos, all in black-and-red camouflage, one after the other. For them it’s a training exercise, and Jesus, these crazy bastards are stoked. The last Canuck to exit into the nothingness is a freakishly tall stud with a crew cut and a handlebar mustache; just before he leaps, he flashes a smile our way. Yeah, yeah, we get it: You’re a badass.

Moments later, the plane’s at ten thousand feet, and the next to go are a Middle Eastern couple in their late thirties. These two can’t wait. They are ecstatic. Skydiving is clearly a thing for them. Why? I can’t help thinking. Is it like foreplay? Do they rush off to the car after landing and get it on in the parking lot? They give us the thumbs-up and they’re gone.

Just like that, we’re at 12,500 feet and it’s our turn. Me and Chris Evans, recognized throughout the universe as the star of the Marvel-comic-book-inspired Captain America and Avengers movies. The five films in the series, which began in 2011 with Captain America: The First Avenger, have grossed more than $4 billion.

The two of us, plus four crew members, are the only ones left in the back of the plane. Over the loud drone of the twin propellers, one of the crew members shouts, "Okay, who’s going first?”

Evans and I are seated on benches opposite each other. Neither of us answers. I look at him; he looks at me. I feel like I’ve swallowed a live rat. Evans is over there, all Captain America cool, smiling away.

While we were waiting to board the plane, Evans told me that as he lay in bed the night before, “I started exploring the sensation of ‘What if the chute doesn’t open?’. . .”

Oh, did you now?

“. . .Those last minutes where you know.” As in you know you’re going to fatally splat. “You’re not gonna pass out; you’re gonna be wide awake. So what? Do I close my eyes? Hopefully, it would be quick. Lights out. I fucking hope it would be quick. And then I was like, if you’re gonna do it, let’s just pretend there is no way this is going to go wrong. Just really embrace it and jump out of that plane with gusto.” Evans also shared that he’d looked up the rate of skydiving fatalities. “It’s, like, 0.006 fatalities per one thousand jumps. So I figure our odds are pretty good.”

Again the crew member shouts, “Who’s going first?”

Again I look at Evans; again he looks at me. The rat is running circles in my belly.

I look at Evans; he looks at me.

Another crew member asks, “So whose idea was this, anyway?”


That’s an excellent question.

I ask Evans the same thing when we first meet, the evening before our jump, at his house. He lives atop the Hollywood Hills, in a modern-contemporary ranch in the center of a Japanese-style garden. The place has the vibe of an L.A. meditation retreat—there’s even a little Buddha statue on the front step.

The dude who opens the front door is in jeans, a T-shirt, and Nikes; he has on a black ball cap with the NASA logo, and his beard is substantial enough that for a second it’s hard to be sure this is the same guy who plays the baby-faced superhero. Our handshake in the doorway is interrupted when his dog rockets toward my crotch. Evans is sorry about that.

We do the small-talk thing. Evans is from a suburb of Boston, one of four kids raised by Dad, a dentist, and Mom, who ran a community theater. The point is, he’s a Patriots fan, and with Super Bowl LI, between the Pats and the Falcons, just a few days away at the time, it’s about the only thing on his mind. You bet your Sam Adams–guzzling ass he’s going to the game in Houston. “Oh my God,” he says, doing a little dance. “I can’t believe it’s this weekend.”

Like any self-respecting Pats fan, Evans is super-wicked pissed at NFL commissioner Roger Goodell.

Evans won’t be rolling to SB LI with a posse of Beantown-to-Hollywood A-listers like Mark Wahlberg, Matt Damon, and Ben Affleck. For the record, he’s never met Damon, and his only interaction with Wahlberg was a couple years ago at a Patriots event. Evans has, however, humiliated himself in front of Affleck.

Around 2006, Evans met with Affleck to talk about Gone Baby Gone, which Affleck was directing. Evans was walking down a hallway, looking for the room where they were supposed to meet. Walking by an open office, he heard Affleck, in that thick Boston accent of his, shout, “There he is!” (Evans does a perfect Affleck impersonation.)

By then, Evans had hit the big time for his turn as the Human Torch, Johnny Storm, in 2005’s Fantastic Four, but he still got starstruck. As he tells it, “First thing I say to him: 'Am I going to be okay where I parked?’ He was like, 'Where did you park?’ I said, 'At a meter.’ And he was like, 'Did you put money in the meter?’ And I said, 'Yep.’ And he says, 'Well, I think you’ll be okay.’ I was like, this is off to a great fucking start.” Stating the obvious here: Evans did not get the part.

No, Evans will be heading to the Super Bowl with his brother and three of his closest buddies. Like any self-respecting Pats fan, Evans is super-wicked pissed at NFL commissioner Roger Goodell for imposing that suspension on Tom Brady for Deflategate. Grabbing two beers from a fridge that’s otherwise basically empty, Evans says, “I just want to see Goodell hand the trophy to Brady. Goodell. Piece of shit.”

In Evans’s living room, there’s not a single hint of his Captain Americaness. Earth tones, tables that appear to be made of reclaimed wood. Open. Uncluttered. Glass doors open onto a backyard with a stunning view of the Hills. Evans stretches out on one of two couches. I take the other and ask, “Just whose idea was it to jump?” Since we both know whose idea it wasn’t, we both know that what I’m really asking is Why? Why, dude, do you want to jump (with me) from a goddamn airplane? “Yeah,” he says, popping open his beer, “I don’t know what I was thinking.”

Settling in on the couch, he groans. Evans explains that he’s hurting all over because he just started his workout routine the day before to get in shape for the next two Captain America films. The movies will be shot back to back beginning in April. After that, no more red- white-and-blue costume for the thirty-five-year-old. He will have fulfilled his contract.

“Yeah,” he says, popping open his beer, “I don’t know what I was thinking.”

Back in 2010, Marvel presented Evans with a nine-picture deal. He insisted he’d sign on for no more than six. Some family members thought he was nuts to dial back such a secure and lucrative gig. Evans saw it differently.

It takes five months to shoot a Marvel movie, and when you tack on the promotional obligations for each one, well, shit, man. Evans knew that for as long as he was bound to Captain America, he would have little time to take on other projects. He wanted to direct, he wanted to play other characters—roles that were more human—like the lead in Gifted, which will hit theaters this month. The script had brought him to tears. Evans managed to squeeze the movie in between Captain America and Avengers films.

FOX Searchlight

In Gifted, Evans stars as Frank Adler. You don’t get much more human than Adler, a grease-under-his-nails boat-engine mechanic living the bachelor life in Florida. After a series of tragic circumstances, Adler becomes a surrogate father to his niece, Mary, a first-grader with the IQ of Einstein. He recognizes that Mary is a little genius, and he does his best to prevent anyone else from noticing. Given the aforementioned circumstances, Adler has witnessed what can happen when a kid with a brilliant mind is pushed too hard too quickly. Then along comes Mary’s teacher. She discovers the child’s gift, and a Kramer vs. Kramer–esque drama ensues.

During a moment in the film when things aren’t going Adler’s way, he sarcastically refers to himself as a “fucking hero.” Evans says the line didn’t lead him to make comparisons between superhero Steve Rogers (aka Captain America) and Everyman hero Frank Adler. But now that you mention it . . . 

“With Steve Rogers,” Evans says, “even though you’re on a giant movie with a huge budget and strange costumes, you’re still on a hunt for the truth of the character.” That said, “with Adler, it’s nice to play someone relatable. I think Julianne Moore said, 'The audience doesn’t come to see you; they come to see themselves.’ Adler is someone you can hold up as a mirror for someone in the audience. They’ll be able to far more easily identify with Frank Adler than Steve Rogers.”

Dodger. That’s the name of Evans’s dog, the one who headbutted my nuts and has since done a marvelous job of making amends by nuzzling against me on the couch. Evans got him while he was filming Gifted; one of the last scenes was shot in an animal shelter in Georgia. Evans had wanted a dog ever since his last pooch died in 2012. Then he found himself walking the aisles of this pound, and there was this mixed-breed boxer, wagging his tail and looking like he belonged with Evans.

Dodger is not exactly a name you’d think a die-hard Boston sports fan would pick. His boys from back home have given him a ton of shit over it. But he has not abandoned his Red Sox for the L.A. team. As a kid, he loved the Disney animated movie Oliver & Company, and his favorite character was Dodger. Anticipating the grief he was going to get from his pals, Evans considered other names. “You could name your dog Doorknob,” he says, “and in a month he’s fucking Doorknob.” Evans’s mom convinced him to go with his gut.

Right around when Evans was wrapping Gifted and heading back to L.A. with Dodger, the 2016 presidential campaign was still in that phase when no one, including the actor—a Hillary Clinton supporter—thought Trump had a shot. He still can’t believe Trump won.

“I feel rage,” he says. “I feel fury. It’s unbelievable. People were just so desperate to hear someone say that someone is to blame. They were just so happy to hear that someone was angry. Hear someone say that Washington sucks. They just want something new without actually understanding. I mean, guys like Steve Bannon—Steve Bannon!—this man has no place in politics.”

Evans has made, and continues to make, his political views known on Twitter. He tweeted that Trump ought to “stop energizing lies,” and he recently ended up in a heated Twitter debate with former KKK leader David Duke over Trump’s pick of Jeff Sessions for attorney general. Duke baselessly accused Evans of being anti-Semitic; Evans encouraged Duke to try love: “It’s stronger than hate. It unites us. I promise it’s in you under the anger and fear.” Making political statements and engaging in such public exchanges is a rather risky thing for the star of Captain America to do. Yes, advisors have said as much to him. “Look, I’m in a business where you’ve got to sell tickets,” he says. “But, my God, I would not be able to look at myself in the mirror if I felt strongly about something and didn’t speak up. I think it’s about how you speak up. We’re allowed to disagree. If I state my case and people don’t want to go see my movies as a result, I’m okay with that.”

Trump. Bannon. Politics. Now Evans is animated. He gets off the couch, walks out onto his porch, and lights a cigarette. “Some people say, 'Don’t you see what’s happening? It’s time to yell,' ” Evans says. “Yeah, I see it, and it’s time for calm. Because not everyone who voted for Trump is going to be some horrible bigot. There are a lot of people in that middle; those are the people you can’t lose your credibility with. If you’re trying to change minds, by spewing too much rhetoric you can easily become white noise.”


Evans has a pretty remarkable “How I got to Hollywood” story.

During his junior year of high school, he knew he wanted to act. He was doing it a lot. In school. At his mom’s theater. He loved it. “When you’re doing a play at thirteen years old and have opening night? None of my friends had opening nights. 'I can’t have a sleepover, guys; I have an opening night tonight.' ”

That same year, he did a two-man play. For all of the twenty-plus plays Evans had done up to that point, preparation meant going home, memorizing lines, and doing a few run-throughs with the cast. However, for this play, Fallen Star, he and his costar would rehearse by running dialogue with each other. Hour upon hour, night after night.

Fallen Star is about two friends, one of whom has just died. As the play opens, one of the characters comes home after the funeral to find his dead friend’s ghost. Evans was the ghost. Waiting backstage on opening night, he knew he didn’t have every line memorized, but he had the essence and emotion of the play down. Onstage, he remembers, “I was saying the lines not because they were memorized but because the play was in me. I was believing what I was saying.”

He was hooked. He wanted to do more of this kind of acting—real acting. He wanted to do films, in which the camera was right on him and he could just be the character, rather than theater, in which an actor must perform to the back of the room.

A family friend who was a television actor advised Evans that if he wanted to go to Hollywood, he needed an agent. Toward the end of his junior year, he had a ballsy request for his parents: If he found an internship with a casting agent in New York City, would they allow him to live there and cover the rent? They agreed. Evans landed a gig with Bonnie Finnegan, who was then working on the television show Spin City.

“I just fucked off. I lost my virginity that year. 1999 was one of the best years of my life.” Until it wasn’t.

Evans chose to intern with a casting agent because he figured he had more of a chance to interact with other agents trying to get auditions for their clients.

The kid was sixteen years old.

Finnegan put Evans on the phone; his responsibilities included setting up appointments for auditions. By the end of the summer, he picked the three agents he had the best rapport with and asked each of them to give him a five-minute audition. All three said yes. After seeing his audition, all three were interested.

Evans went with the one Finnegan recommended, Bret Adams, who told Evans to return to New York for auditions in January, television pilot season. Back home, Evans doubled up on a few classes the first semester of his senior year, graduated early, and went back to New York in January. He got the same shithole apartment in Brooklyn and the same internship with Finnegan. He landed a part on the pilot Opposite Sex. Even better, the show got picked up and would start shooting in L.A. that fall.

“I know I’m going to L.A. in August,” Evans says, recalling that period. “So I go home and that spring I would wake up around noon, saunter into high school just to see my buddies, and we’d go get high in the parking lot. I just fucked off. I lost my virginity that year. 1999 was one of the best years of my life.” Until it wasn’t.

He wasn’t in L.A. for even a month when he got a call from home. His parents were divorcing. Evans never saw it coming.

Family and love and the struggles therein are part of what attracted Evans to Gifted.

“In my own life, I have a deep connection with my family and the value of those bonds,” he says. “I’ve always loved stories about people who put their families before themselves. It’s such a noble endeavor. You can’t choose your family, as opposed to friends. Especially in L.A. You really get to see how friendships are put to the test; it stirs everyone’s egos. But if something goes south with a friend, you have the option to say we’re not friends anymore. Your family—that’s your family. Trying to make that system work and trying to make it not just functional but actually enjoyable is a really challenging endeavor, and that’s certainly how it is with my family.”


the plane, a decision is made.

“I want to see you jump first,” Evans shouts my way.

Of course he does.

Like any respectable and legal skydiving center, Skydive Perris, which is providing us with this “experience,” doesn’t just strap a chute on your back. First, you go to a room for a period of instruction. Then you go to another room, where you sign away your rights.

You may be wondering how the star of a billion-dollar franchise with two pictures to shoot gets clearance to jump from an airplane—never mind the low rate of fatalities, as Evans has presented it. So am I.

“Well, they give you all these crazy insurance policies, but even if I die, what are they going to do? Sue my family? They’d probably cast some new guy at a cheaper price and save some money.”

Thinking the answer is almost certainly going to be no, I ask Evans if he’s ever gone skydiving before. Turns out he has, with an ex-girlfriend. Turns out that ex-girlfriend is now married to Justin Timberlake. Evans and Jessica Biel dated off and on from 2001 to 2006. They took the leap together when Biel hatched the idea for one Valentine’s Day. According to media accounts, Evans was recently dating his Gifted costar Jenny Slate, who plays the teacher. “Yeah,” he says, “but I’m steering clear of those questions.” You can almost feel his heart pinch.

“There’s a certain shared life experience that is tough for someone else who’s not in this industry to kind of wrap their head around.”

We end up broadly discussing the unique challenges an international star like Evans faces when it comes to dating, specifically the trust factor. Evans supposes that’s why so many actors date other actors: “There’s a certain shared life experience that is tough for someone else who’s not in this industry to kind of wrap their head around,” he says. “Letting someone go to work with someone for three months and they won’t see them. It really, it certainly puts the relationship to the test.”

In Gifted, there’s a moment when Slate’s character asks Adler what his greatest fear is. Frank Adler’s greatest fear is that he’ll ruin his niece’s life. Evans’s greatest fear is having regrets.

“Like always kind of wanting to be there as opposed to here. I think I’m worried all of a sudden I’ll get old and have regrets, realize that I’ve not cultivated enough of an appreciation for the now and surrendering to the present moment.”

Evans’s musings have something to do with the fact that he has been reading The Surrender Experiment. “It’s about the basic notion that we are only in a good mood when things are going our way,” he says. “The truth is, life is going to unfold as it’s going to unfold regardless of your input. If you are an active participant in that awareness, life kind of washes over you, good or bad. You kind of become Teflon a little bit to the struggles that we self-inflict.”

He continues: “Our conscious minds are very spread out. We worry about the past. We worry about the future. We label. And all of that stuff just makes us very separate. What I’m trying to do is just quiet it down. Put that brain down from time to time and hope those periods of quiet and stillness get longer. When you do that, what rises from the mist is a kind of surrendering. You’re more connected as opposed to being separate. A lot of the questions about destiny or fate or purpose or any of that stuff—it’s not like you get answers. You just realize you didn’t need the questions.”

This here—this stuff about surrendering, letting life unfold, taking the leap—this is why he wanted to go skydiving. It’s why that sixteen-year-old took the leap and did the summer in New York; it’s why he took the leap and turned down the nine-picture deal; it’s why he got Dodger. Surrender. Take the leap.

And so I go first.

Oh, one important detail: Novice jumpers like Evans and me, we don’t jump solo. Thank God. Each of us is doing a tandem jump. Each of us is strapped with our back to a professional jumper’s front. I’m strapped to a forty-four-year-old dude named Paul. Considering what’s about to happen, I figure I should know a little something about Paul. He tells me he used to own a bar in Chicago. Evans is strapped to a young woman named Sam, who looks to be twenty-something. She’s got a purplish-pink streak in her black hair and says things like “badass.” In fact, Sam introduced herself  by saying, “I’m Sam, but you can call me Badass.”

At the plane’s open door, my mind goes to my wife and two teenage sons, to those I love, and to the texts I just sent in case my chute fails. Then Paul and I—well, really mostly Paul—rock gently back and forth to build momentum to push away from the plane, to push away from all that seems sane.

Three.

Two.

One.

Holy fuck.

HOLY FUCK. This is what I scream as we free-fall from 12,500 feet, at more than a hundred miles an hour, toward the earth. Which I cannot take my eyes off of. I think about nothing. Not living. Not dying. Nothing. I simply feel . . . I have let go.

Suddenly, it all stops. I’m jerked up. Paul has pulled the chute, and it does indeed open. This is fantastic, because it means we have a much better chance of not dying. But it’s also kind of a bummer. I had let go. Of everything. I had chosen to play those odds Evans had talked about. I had embraced jumping and letting life unfold.

Now I had been jerked back. I would land. Back on the earth I had been so high above and from which I had been so far removed. Back in all of it.

Once I’m on the ground, safe and in one piece, a staffer runs over and asks how I feel. I say, “I feel like Captain America.”

The staffer runs over and asks Evans the same question. He says he feels great. Then he’s asked another question: What was your favorite part?

“Jumping out,” he says. “Jumping out is always a real thrill.”


This article appears in the April '17 issue of Esquire.