thousand feet

Humans are crazy

So I was hanging with friends today and it dawned on me…that human beings are insane. What we do for “fun” is insane.

We jump out of planes, jump off cliffs, climb sheer cliff walls hundreds of thousands of feet up. We have games for CHILDREN that involve pressing a button and getting shocked with electricity, and one of the most popular sports, in america at least, is full of humans bashing against each other and causes brain damage. Or humans trying to hang on to dear life on a bucking angry bull, and risk getting gored. Or just pummeling each other bloody in a ring. And we love it.

I mean, Just today, my friends and I used an electric charge machine (for flexing muscles and helping blood flow I think?) And spent an hour shocking each other and seeing how long we could last on the highest charge despite pain and spasms.

Then there are carnivals (which we also visited). Look around a carnival and nearly every ride is meant to be “fun” but also cause discomfort. Heights, spinning, sudden drops, high speeds, often combinations of all of these. They’re like giant colorful torture machines, and we LOVE them. We have whole parks dedicated to bigger, more complicated versions of carnival rides and roller coasters.

We actively seek out things that cause us discomfort…for FUN. Life risking or painful things for FUN.

Can you imagine what aliens would think about that? Imagine a poor aliens reaction upon coming to earth to research human passtimes and just being confronted with all these crazy hunans doing crazy, uncomfortable, sometimes painful things….for fun. Like,“Oh my gosh they torture themselves for fun why why why? How do we fight something that gets a kick out of hurting itself??” Imagine taking an alien visitor to a carnival or amusement park and them just being horrified.

Alien- What in the stars… Why have you taken me to a torture camp?? I thought we were friends!
Human- what do you mean? It’s a carnival! It’s fun!
Alien- but there are instruments of torture and interrogation everywhere! And…did you decorate them in colorful, pleasing lights?? What sick joke is this?!?

Or inversly, can you imagine a more serious situation wherein a human is captured and taken to be interrogated and are just…terrified. imagining what this warlike alien species has uo their sleeves, how they would torture them for information they sought. The master interrogator is this scarred, gruff alien who’s made it his life work to torture and rip that information away.

And then the human is taken into the torture room and just stops and stares at the whirl a twirl ride in the middle of the room. And they see this carnival ride and the interrogator and everyone else seem wary or scared of it, but the human just gets excited. And the whole time it’s running, the aliens are just flabbergasted because the human who’s being tortured is just laughing and grinning and even after puking is still yelling “again, again!”

No other race tortures themselves for fun. Human beings are just the craziest things.

The headcanon of Dirk being vehicle proficient is a fun and popular one, but also consider:

Boy ain’t ever seen a car that wasn’t hundreds of thousands of feet submerged in water and he absolutely does not have the social graces to inherently know to check his fucking blind spot and maybe not cut people off in traffic.

also, on the subject of steve’s superhuman status…

i felt like this movie was brutally heavy-handed about showing us just how much steve’s body can take. like, we get a hint of it in first avenger but even steve isn’t sure by the end of the movie the entire scope of what his body can do–what can be done to it. then in the avengers, we get a little more…ideas about his endurance, his agility, his combat skill–but they’re just glimpses, and really, nothing earth-shattering is discovered.

and then this fucking movie comes along, and all of a sudden, the audience is seeing in visceral constant detail just how super this soldier has become.

steve fights like lightning in a bottle–he’s a tremendous force in a contained, controlled package. we see his skill, but more than that, we see how his skill is the vehicle for his power. how many times do we get it reiterated that this dude is magnificent? the very first scene of the movie is all about how he’s running THIRTEEN MILES in 30 minutes like it’s nbd. and then rumlow pointing out steve’s jump sans parachute and how well he was single handedly taking on the ship’s crew before rumlow landed. and then his fight with batroc, how it’s very specifically meant to show that even without the shield, steve is more than capable. that he can withstand things and do things other human beings can’t. that HE and HIS FISTS AND FEET AND MASSIVE MUSCLES AND CORE STABILITY can and will fuck you up. the entire first half of the film is all about steve being a force to be reckoned with, not just as a person but as a body, as a physical presence. 

and as the battles escalate, so too do the stresses on steve’s body. every new thing was like a dare. a step further. a question–how much can this guy withstand?

steve, leaping through a window into ANOTHER BUILDING ENTIRELY, crashing through WALLS like they’re nothing, running at top speed and withstanding the force of throwing the shield and being thrown the shield, stopping a hairsbreadth from the edge of the roof.

steve, getting ambushed in an elevator, several burly and skilled men and their assorted weapons against him. this scene is SO important–those little electricity things that rumlow zapped steve with at length and several times? remember how a tiny little zap was enough to knock out that french mercenary? yeah, well, it barely pHASED steve even after it’s stuck to his gut for like 30 agonizing seconds, repeatedly. that whole scene is an exercise in showing the audience that steve literally has the strength of multiple men, maybe even more. (and he knows it, too. it’s why his fairness, the fact that he gives those goons the OPTION TO GET OFF THE ELEVATOR, is so much more remarkable than it otherwise would be. because he knows what his body is capable of now. and it’s a fucking lot.) 

oh and then he leaps out of the elevator and falls several thousand feet at full speed and not only lives but barely staggers after a couple minutes of shaking it off and then he leaps onto a moving jet and disables it before somersaulting to the ground? this isnt just innate confidence, it’s a lack of fear borne from the knowledge that his body can take it.

like sitwell said–“are you kidding me?” it’s pretty significant that in a world of superheros and mutants and gods, sitwell is shocked by a SUPERSOLDIER and what his body can do. as well sitwell should be, tbh.


bc MULTIPLE TIMES steve uses his own body as a buffer between the shield and people he’s protecting–two times with nat and a potentially catastrophic and close range explosion and once FALLING OUT OF A FUCKING SPEEDING VEHICLE. he knows the shield will provide the first line of defense, but he also knows his body is capable of creating another. his body becomes a shield, too. a weapon and a tool.

and it’s worth noting that he’s posed as superhuman by acting as a mirror to another superhuman. when he’s fighting bucky on the bridge, he matches bucky move for move–i still cant decide whether that fight is meant to drive hom how powerful bucky is or steve, tbh. like, on one hand, we already KNOW how strong steve is, so the fact that bucky is fighting him shows the audience this isnt just an assassin–he’s souped up more than the average human. but on the other hand, we see early on how fast and powerful bucky is, and when we see his fist hit the shield we get a sense of his incredible strength even more, and that just shows us AGAIN how very strong steve must be to keep up with him and fight him like an equal.

anyway, the next round of death defying comes with the helicarrier business. and a lot of his awesome comes from how well he moves and how tactical he is, but there are elements–when he leaps into the open air and freefalls waiting for sam to catch him, when he uses his upper body strength to fucking climb up the outside of the helicarrier after being thrown off the side–that you’re reminded again that beyond him being a great soldier, he’s also got a body that is a conduit for all that knowledge, all that skill. and that body is a weapon unto itself.

guys. guys, he’s shot MULTIPLE TIMES and STABBED and he just wrestled a super assassin into submission and he STILL makes it up to change the blade for the helicarrier. and when the helicarrier is crashing, he stILL has enough strength to move a steel beam off bucky. and then he SITS THERE AND GETS PUNCHED REPEATEDLY IN THE FACE BY A METAL HAND. this is the first time we really see steve rogers bleed in this movie. the first time we really see how exhausted and worn down he must be. THE FIRST TIME in TWO HOURS–after multiple battles and running away and fatigue and villains.

but even as he bleeds, he lives. he’s alive. conscious. TALKING. as a viewer, at this point, i was just like–how much can steve take??? how much MORE??? and it seemed that steve would keep answering me with “i could do this all day!”

except then he falls into the potomac. but EVEN THEN we don’t see him get mouth to mouth. we see bucky drag him to shore and leave and steve’s breathing on his own. his lungs are EXPELLING THE WATER IN A THIN STREAM OUT OF HIS MOUTH. steve is literally defying everything i know about drowning and breathing in this scene. his body :( so magic :(

given all this, the fact that one of the last scenes of the movie was steve in a hospital…it feels right. it feels like we finally get to see steve slow the hell down and take CARE of himself. it feels like there was a natural culmination to all that getting beat up and beating other people up, and it’s there in that hospital bed, waking up with his wounds not yet healed, showing that as superhuman as he is, even he has some limits.

but those limits are pretty well fucking beyond most powered humans, imo. and that’s another reason i love steve rogers.

Here’s a project that never came to fruition, but it was still a fun idea to illustrate.

When I was a kid, I always wondered what type of dinosaurs roamed the San Francisco Bay Area.  I recently found out that dinosaurs never existed in the Bay Area, but what inhabited my hometown were prehistoric marine reptiles, fish and ammonite.  For the most part, SF was submerged thousands of feet underwater during the Mesozoic.

Ok, so, Shaggy and Scooby are racing their jet-powered, sandwich-shaped truck... which is a *fantastic* sentence.

They take a shortcut…

…sloooowly approach the next truck…

…and juuuuuust–

–baaaaaarelyyyyyyyy–

–pass it.

Very next frame?

Sandwichmobile has teleported thousands of feet ahead, and is moving at twice the speed.

That’s the power of sandwich-shaped trucks… they destroy your hunger, and then the laws of physics themselves.

Things That Noodle Has Canonically Done:
  • Mailed herself in a FedEx Box from Japan to England
  • Kicked a zombie gorilla in the face
  • Kept a giant head in her room
  • Tried to go up against two fighter planes with just an old machine gun
  • Threw her gameboy at a camera crew
  • Agreed to fake her death just so she could take a vacation
  • Pretended to be a video game character
  • When on a floating island thousands of feet in the sky, decided to casually sit and swing her legs over the edge of it
  • Accidentally released a ancient demon while pearl diving 
  • Made an entire album(and music video) by herself
  • Broke through an electric fence, just so she could test drive a race-car 

2-D Murdoc Russel

(feel free to add more)

DM: You guys step off of the boat and onto the island, and you are immediately dazzled by the sunlight reflecting off of this enormous spire in the middle of the island. It’s hundreds if not a thousand feet tall and seems to be made out of silver. It’s honestly almost inspiring.

Wizard: In-SPIRE-ing

DM: You’re gonna try to ruin every dramatic moment with a pun, aren’t you?

Wizard: Absolutely.

While we’re all laughing and shaking our heads at Harry cutting a hole in an outfit worth about $5000 dollars (and that’s just the top half), Columbia is actually out there sinking some true moola moola into this and hoping (knowing) Harry will deliver. Let’s just look at him flying. 

For take off and landing shots they needed a small crane or lift, which has to come with a professional operator who hopefully has good insurance. For the actual flying, they needed a helicopter. But they couldn’t just do it with one helicopter, they had to have two, one for Harry to fly from and one to get the camera angles. Which means they also had to have better cameras because of distance and trajectory. In addition to two helicopters, they had to have two pilots, as well as a crew on the ground and a person or persons to supervise from the first helicopter to make sure Harry doesn’t fall to his death. This won’t be your average helicopter pilot and safety crew, though, these have to be people who specialize in stunts and dealing with crazy people who have a death wish. *cough* Harry *cough*. Also, since he’s thousands of feet in the air dangling from a helicopter, there’s no way for him to hear playback so they’d have to fit him with a high-tech earpiece that wouldn’t cut out in the wind. Another thing they would have to allow for due to the weather was time, and how long it might take and/or be delayed because of it. You can’t just buckle someone into a harness and signal the whirly-bird to take off either, they had to have some form of training exercise beforehand to make sure Harry was fully comfortable with was going to happen before they hauled everyone’s asses on-site to Scotland.  

This wasn’t a day production, this was an intensely thought out and strategically planned project built from the strong will to fly, and the even stronger will to kill me. 

days-of-dust  asked:

PLease write all the soft hannigram forEVER

Nothing says ‘soft hannigram’ like… fisting?


Stuck halfway between a laugh and a belly low groan, Will chokes. He inhales through his nose.

“More.” He says.

“I only have my thumb left.” Hannibal says. His thumb pressing against the fleshy part of Will’s inner thigh. A little reminder. A little hello. His four fingers and his knuckles rubbing and stretching the inside of Will open.

It’s not like last time. 

Will is not hesitant now. He had a solid month of obsessing over the what if of last time. What if he had said yes. What if Hannibal had pushed him regardless of what he had said. What if Will had let Hannibal crawl and shove his way inside of his body. No cut. No knife. Split him open with his bare hands.

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Solar System: Things to Know This Week

Go for Venus! Fifty-five years ago this week, Mariner 2, the first fully successful mission to explore another planet launched from Cape Canaveral in Florida. Here are 10 things to know about Mariner 2.

1. Interplanetary Cruise 

On August 27, 1962, Mariner 2 launched on a three and a half month journey to Venus. The little spacecraft flew within 22,000 miles (about 35,000 kilometers) of the planet. 

2. Quick Study 

Mariner 2’s scan of Venus lasted only 42 minutes. And, like most of our visits to new places, the mission rewrote the books on what we know about Earth’s sister planet.

3. Hot Planet 

The spacecraft showed that surface temperature on Venus was hot enough to melt lead: at least 797 degrees Fahrenheit (425 degrees Celsius) on both the day and night sides.

4. Continuous Clouds 

The clouds that make Venus shine so bright in Earth’s skies are dozens of miles thick and permanent. It’s always cloudy on Venus, and the thick clouds trap heat - contributing to a runaway “greenhouse effect.”

5. Night Light 

Those clouds are why Venus shines so brightly in Earth’s night sky. The clouds reflect and scatter sunlight, making Venus second only to our Moon in celestial brightness.

6. Under Pressure 

Venus’ clouds also create crushing pressure. Mariner 2’s scan revealed pressure on the surface of Venus is equal to pressure thousands of feet under Earth’s deepest oceans.

7. Slow Turn 

Mariner 2 found Venus rotates very slowly, and in the opposite direction of most planets in our solar system.

8. Space Travel Is Tough 

Mariner 2 was a remarkable accomplishment, considering that in 1962 engineers were still in the very early stages of figuring out how operate spacecraft beyond Earth orbit. The first five interplanetary missions launched - by the U.S. and Soviet Union, the only two spacefaring nations at the time - were unsuccessful.

9. Not Ready for Its Close Up 

Mariner 2 carried no cameras. The first close-up pictures of Venus came from NASA’s Mariner 10 in 1974.  

10. Hot Shot 

The first (and still incredibly rare) photo of the surface of Venus was taken by the Soviet Venera 9 lander, which survived for a little more than a minute under the crushing pressure and intense heat on the ground.

Make sure to follow us on Tumblr for your regular dose of space: http://nasa.tumblr.com

In need, I prayed to the moon, and soon she arrived. A thousand feet tall and infinitely powerful.

I began to apologize, for being so small, so weak, but before I could speak she kissed me with black lips for 10,000 years.

Friends Don't Leave Camels Behind

Context: This was in the final session of a Call of Cthulhu campaign. The party had entered the Dreamlands, and had obtained some camels and carts to traverse the land. Due to previous encounters, there was only one camel left, who had lovingly been named John. The party had to get to a floating city on the top of the mountain.

DM: So, you see this mountain in front of you, several thousand feet high, filled with jagged rocks. You all will probably be able to make your way up, but you’ll have to ditch most of your gear.

Player: Hell no. I’m not leaving the camel behind. 

DM: The mountain is very high, there’s no way the camel could walk up! Ditch the camel!

Player: I’m going to try and carry the camel up the mountain. *rolls a critical*

DM: Wha- you know what, okay. You’ve gotten the camel up the mountain a few hundred feet. There’s still a ton of mountain left.

Player: I’m not abandoning John. *proceeds to roll two more crits, and then spends all of his luck to make two other rolls crits*

DM: …okay. You get the camel to the top of the mountain. The grand city opens before you. You see a figure in front of you. They begin to speak.

DM (as NPC): “Hello, and welcome to the City of the- wait, is that a camel? How the hell did you get a camel up here?”

Player: “I carried it.”

The party then managed to get the camel to the top of a giant tower, where it ended up getting a gift from Nyarlathotep. John the Camel ended up being a superhero in our next campaign. 

holster will at some point propose to ransom in the form of a well choreographed flash mob

and the proposal will go flawlessly

but in the weeks beforehand…


  • Holster: Okay Jack, you’re only available next Thursday for practice, so I need you to learn the whole ten minute choreography before that and be ready to execute it flawlessly.
  • (Jack learns it. The execution is another matter.)
  • On one hand Bitty tries to get Holster to put Beyoncé’s Put a Ring on It on the playlist, on the other hand, Jack has expressly forbidden him to use any Beyoncé songs because he has dibs for future proposals. 
  • The playlist is mostly showtunes, but there are too many to chose from. He had to go from twenty to three, because they may all be hockey players, they don’t have the stamina to pull off a whole musical.
  • Lardo: Maybe make sure Rans knows the songs, too?
  • IF HE DOESN’T KNOW THAT SONG I’M NOT MARRYING HIM
  • ‘Okay guys, nice practice, but I need to give constructive criticism’
  • ‘Dex, it’s left, left, sashay, not stomp the ground like you’re trying to kill the thousand cockroaches with your feet.
  • ‘Chowder, less jumping, more swaying please.
  • ‘Nurse, you had it for three seconds and then you tripped. Try not to do that. The tripping part. 
  • ‘Bitty, I need you to be less sexy, or Ransom will end up marrying you instead of me. We don’t want that.
  • ‘Jack, please move more than your shoulders. Please. I’m begging.
  • ‘Lardo and Shits, if you guys don’t stop goofing off I’m removing you from second line!
  • ‘THAT WAS A THREAT NOT A PROMISE
  • ‘Tadpoles, I need you to learn the second line moves in case I need you to fill in for those idiots.
  • ‘LARDO WE’RE SHORT ON TIME HERE
  • Jack: You know, Ransom likes Tater, I can get him to be there?
  • Holster: ‘Zimmermann, what part of I want Ransom to marry ME didn’t you understand?’
  • Tango: ‘Have you thought of asking the Haus ghosts to participate?’
  • Holster: …
  • Holster: ANYWAY, as I was saying, it was left, left, sashay- BITS stop with those hips damnit- JACK COME BACK- BRING HIM BACK- DAMNIT YOU’RE ONLY HERE FOR THE AFTERNOON-

The proposal went flawlessly. 

Patch Up | Peter Parker

Summary: After an encounter with a bad guy, Peter needs a patch up. He goes to the one person who he knows can help him…

Warning: Some spoilers

Pairing: Peter Parker (Spiderman) x reader

Part One / Part Three / Part Four / Part Five / Part Six

MASTERLIST


Originally posted by marvel-is-ruining-my-life

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Evil Yours, Now Evil Mine // Kai Anderson

Originally posted by gabbiesworld


A/N: I’m selfishly relieved to be writing Kai again. I feel like I write him better than the rest of Evan’s characters. So! This is based off a request where someone wanted Kai to meet a girl whose only fear was her own mind. I also had countless requests for rough Kai.

Side note: This fic is my absolute pride and joy.

This is specifically for my homegurl @fragilelikeabomb0106 <3 And myself. Because I’m a Kai whore.

Warnings: SMUTSMUTSMUTSMUTSMUT! And language.

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Hotel in Paris - Scott McCall

word count: 5508
warnings: smut! (i tried!) and swearing
summary: the 6b plot line is thrown away and instead everybody’s going to France.  But your werewolf boyfriend is sorta in heat…


You were almost finished packing up, even though Scott and Lydia would be there to pick you up in twenty minutes to leave for the airport, you hadn’t brought yourself to actually pack until today.  And even when you’d pulled out your suitcase and picked out the outfits you’d wanted, you hadn’t even gotten around to getting it done until now.

You were frantically folding clothes and stuffing them into your suitcase while also packing a travel cosmetics bag and making sure your phone was charging.  You felt hectic, rushed, and it was making you anxious.

“Babe this whole room reeks of anxiety” You turned around, seeing Scott at your doorway and you freaked out even more.

“Oh my god are we leaving right now?” You asked, the panic evident in your voice.  Scott came into the room and set his hands on either of your arms.

“No, no I just wanted to come early to see you” He said gently.  “Calm down, you’re okay” He continued, and you sighed in relief.

“Thank God” You breathed, and went back to your packing.  Scott smiled at you, and watched anxiously as you put folded clothes into your suitcase.  He came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your middle, setting his chin on your head, then your shoulder.  You giggled at the feeling of his nose nuzzling into your neck.  “What? Why’re you all cuddly?” You asked, rubbing your hand over his that was set on your hip.  You continued to finish up your packing.

“Because you smell so good” He hummed lowly, making your stomach flip over.  His mouth latched to your neck, kissing and sucking on the side of your throat, successfully halting your work.

“Sc-Scott” You whined.  “I don’t have time for this” You told him, and he pulled his lips away from you, giving you a pout.  You turned your head and held his chin in your hand, pulling his lips against yours.  You held the kiss for a few moments before pulling away.

But even as you continued your packing, he kept his arms around you, and awkwardly waddled behind you whenever you moved.  You giggled, but didn’t try to pull out of his hold.  You liked being in his arms too much.  And it was calming you down enough to get all packed up.

“I love you” Scott told you in a wanting voice.  You turned to look at him, raising a brow.

“I love you too baby” You replied, and he stole a kiss from you, making you laugh quietly.  “Are you alright?” You asked him, and he nodded, closing his eyes and setting his chin back on your shoulder.  “Scott?” You asked, finally pulling out of his hold to turn around and face him.  But his arms grabbed onto you again.  “Open your eyes” You ordered.  He shook his head.  You rolled your eyes and curled your fingers around his crooked jaw.  “Scott” You said sternly.  “Open them”

He let out a long huff before opening his eyes, revealing their red color.

“You’re in heat?” You asked, and he hung his head with a sigh.  You giggled softly, and lifted his face with your hands.

“Hey… it’s alright” You said softly, stepping closer to him so you could peck his lips.  “And I promise…” You trailed off, leaning up so your lips were next to his ear.  “When we get there, we can have hot… hotel… Paris… sex” You said slowly.  Scott shuddered, and his hands gripped your waist tighter.

“Fuck baby I love you” He said before capturing your lips in his in a searing kiss.  You moaned, your hands running through his hair and gripping onto the dark strands.  He growled in response, quickly releasing your waist so that he could grip your thighs, lifting you up against him.  You obliged, wrapping your arms around his waist and rubbing up against him eagerly, your lips still locking against his, becoming more aggressive.

“Alright so who’s ready for- AH NO NO!” You leap off of Scott and chased after Lydia, who’d barely stepped into your room before running out screaming.

“Lyds!” You called after her.

“I’ll… I’ll get your suitcase” Scott said, but you were already down the stairs.

“Lyds I’m so sorry” You breathed, and she chuckled, shaking her head.

“It’s fine I’m totally messing with you.  Seems like you and Scotty are getting real hot and bothered together though” She said with a wink.  You flustered awkwardly, knowing he could hear your voices perfectly clear.  As well as your rapidly beating heart.

“Yeah uh… yeah” You sighed.  “Let’s just get going” You said, just as Scott made it down the stairs.  You smiled sweetly at him upon realizing he’d brought down your bags for you.  “Awe, thanks babe” You said, taking your backpack and suitcase from him and pecking him on the cheek.

“Alright! Let’s get going!” Lydia said excitedly, and led the way out the door.

After picking up Stiles and Malia, you were heading to the airport.  You sat in the back of the jeep in between Scott and Malia.  While Lydia sat in the front with Stiles who was now driving.  It was getting dark out as you drove through the town.  Lydia was going on excitedly about the trip, telling Stiles about the food and Malia all about the boys.  But you were just tiredly looking out the window whilst keeping your arm linked through Scott’s.  When you felt his hand caressing over yours, you looked over at him.

“You okay?” He asked, and you furrowed your brows at the question.

“I’m fine, why?” You replied.

“They’re getting all pumped and you’re quiet” He said.  “Just making sure you’re alright” You smiled at his sweetness and let him kiss your cheek.

“You’re the sweetest, you know that?” You asked, before leaning your head against his shoulder.  Scott just chuckled and let you rest there against him.

You were excited for this trip, very excited.  Especially to spend it with Scott.

You were tiredly standing at the gate where your flight was going to start boarding in a few minutes.  Malia was slouched on a chair, as was Stiles next to her.  Lydia sat on the floor, her head lying against Stiles’ legs while he ran his hands through her hair.  But you were standing with Scott, practically leaning against him.

“On the flight, you can sleep the whole way, alright?” He told you.  “It’s a whole eleven hours” You closed your eyes tight at the idea of being on a plane until six in the morning.

“Alright” You finally answered, and tried to relax against Scott.

“Now boarding flight 32, to Paris, France” The stewardess at the desk said over the microphone.

“Whoo that’s us!” Lydia leaped up, pulling Stiles by his hands.  Where s you Malia and Scott were a little more slow and tired to cheer along with them.  “Come on guys come on!” Lydia took everyone’s boarding passes and gave them to the woman at the desk all at once.  She counted through them, then looked up at the group in front of her, looking slightly frustrated.

“Alright, have a safe trip” She said, and you all exchanged excited grins as Stiles took back the boarding and handed them out to everyone before walking into the tunnel connecting to the plane.  Scott’s hand latched onto yours, looking over your shoulder to see what your assigned seat number was.  27.

“Did anyone get 26?” He called, and you smiled up at him while he exchanged tickets with Lydia.  “What?” He asked you, and you squeezed his hand, stepping into the actual plane with Scott close behind.

“You’re so cute” You said, finding your seat, and trying to quickly pick up your suitcase to put it in the overhead stowaway.  But Scott swiftly grabbed it and lifted it with one hand with ease, then put his own up with yours as well.  Again, you smiled and shook your head, then sat in the seat by the window, Scott sitting down next to you.  “What’d I do to deserve you?” You asked him, buckling in your seat belt.  Scott grinned lopsidedly towards you.

“You were being absolutely yourself” He said, making you blush and laugh nervously.  Scott watched you as you settled in, your hands slightly tightened on the armrest of your seat, and your eyes kept glancing out the window, up at the sky.  His brow furrowed as he hurt your quick beating heart.  “y/n?”

“Hm?” You turned your head to look at his concerned brown eyes.  Scott leaned closer, lowering his voice.

“Are you afraid of flying?” He asked you softly.  You opened your mouth to answer, but a short dinging sound rang and the captain’s voice was heard over the com.

“This is your captain speaking,” A man’s voice rang through the plane.  He continued with the general guidelines and safety procedures that the stewardesses showed everyone as example.  But Scott kept talking to you.

“I promise, that you are completely, and absolutely safe” He said, taking your hand in both of his.  You smiled weakly at him, and he placed a kiss on your knuckles.  “Nothing’s gonna happen, I wouldn’t let it” You chuckled and rolled your eyes.

“What a hero, stopping a plane crash” You said quietly, trying not to disturb the safety procedure being displayed.

“I would if it’d keep you safe” He said seriously, and again you laughed quietly.  Only Scott McCall.

Soon after the demonstration was over, the plane began to move, and out of instinct you squeezed onto Scott’s hand, your heart racing in your chest.  You’ve never been on a flight before, and the mere idea of being thousands of feet off the ground really freaked you out.  Your eyes shut tight, begging yourself not to look outside as it began to speed down the runway.

“You’re okay” Scott whispered to you, turning to face you and listening carefully to your heartbeat.  “It’s alright, you’re safe” He continued to murmur.  The wheels began to skid against the ground as the aircraft was lifting off into the air.  A small gasp came from your throat, but in seconds Scott had turned your head to face him, and slanted his lips over yours.  Your heart beat gradually slowed as he kissed you sweetly.  While his stomach was flipping and the beast in him felt his desire begin to pool in his chest, a heat coming over him at the feeling of your plump lips against his, he tried to brush over the feeling and keep the kiss gentle.  When you parted, you smiled at him, and he waited to open his eyes, until he knew they wouldn’t be blood red.

From the look you gave him, he could tell they still were.

“How long will this last?” You asked him, worry in your tone.

“Uhm” Scott swallowed and blinked a few times.

“The color’s gone” You whispered when his eyes were back to their normal chocolate brown.  “How long?” You questioned again.  Scott’s foot tapped on the floor.

“Until I do something about it” He mumbled.  You smiled sadly.

Of course you wanted to help him out now, you surely felt a similar burn that shot from your chest right down to your core that he must’ve felt as well, an intensified arousal.

“I’m sorry baby” You said softly, your brows drawn together in worry for him.  “I wish I could help you sooner than later” Scott’s lips quirked up, his eyes flickering in between yours.

“It’s alright love” He hummed, kissing your forehead before wrapping his arm around you, letting you lay your head onto his shoulder.  He held you as close as he could while confined in his seat.  You let out a soft sigh, feeling safe in his arms.

“I love you” You mumbled, eyes beginning to droop shut tiredly.  Scott pressed his lips against your head, holding them there for a minute.

“I love you too baby” He whispered into your hair before you passed out against him.


When you woke up again, you found that both of your arms were wound around Scott’s torso, and the arm that he had around you was gently running his fingertips up and down your spine.  You blinked your eyes open to see that he had a book in his other hand, reading it intently.  You smiled, basking in the moment for a few minutes before he could realize that you were awake.

“Morning sleepyhead” Scott said, still caressing your back.  You sighed slightly out of defeat, and moved to sit up properly, but Scott kept you snug against him.  “Don’t move” He mumbled, turning the page without looking away from it.  You gladly snuggled back into him.

“How long was I out?” You asked, and he made a hum as he checked the time on is phone to think about it.

“About three hours” He said quietly.  You hummed, and looked back at his book.  But Scott closed it and put it in his backpack.  “Have your weird dreams?” He asked, and you chuckled.  Scott always liked to listen to your weird dreams.

“No, not really” You sighed, making him frown.  “No I dreamt about Paris”

He smiled.

“Yeah? What about it?” He asked, his curiosity peaked as he somehow managed to pull you closer against him.

“Just… walking along sidewalks and looking at shops and talking all French-y” You giggled and it was a sound that brought a smile to his lips.

“Was I there?” You hummed and nodded.

“Course you were.  You’re in all my dreams Scott McCall” You said in a playful tone, then leaned slightly off of him to press your lips sweetly against his cheek.  He grinned, holding you close again.

“Well aren’t you soft today”

“Trying to be soft so you won’t be hard” You murmured just quiet enough that surrounding passengers wouldn’t hear, but that his enhanced hearing could pick it up easily.  He sighed, hanging his head for a moment.

“You know, you’re lucky you’re adorable” He breathed heavily, and you closed your eyes, snuggling back into him.

“I wanna sleep some more” You huffed.  “But I can’t now”

“Mm you want to listen to some music?” Scott asked, and you grinned up at him, but he was already getting his phone and earbuds back out.  “Good, because I made you a special playlist, just for this trip” You blushed at him, looking over his arm to see his screen.  But he blocked your view, offering you the earbud closest to you.  “Just listen to it” He said, and you gave him a playful glare before putting it in.

“Alright alright” You said, watching as he put in one as well.  A content smile played on your lips as you closed your eyes before he pushed play, trying to divulge yourself completely in the music.  Instantly the smile grew as an unfamiliar tune played but one that beautifull filled your ear.

Scott watched you as you drifted off next to him.  He wasn’t sure if you were falling asleep, or if you were just enjoying the music.  When your head hit his shoulder and a soft hum of a snore came out of your lips, he figured you were asleep.

His head slumped atop yours, and not long after he was dozed off as well.


You woke up to the feeling of a soft nudge against your shoulder.  You blinked, and looked over to see who had tapped you.  You were surprised to see Stiles was standing in the aisle, the back of his hand had been tapping against your shoulder.

“Mm- what-” You began to mumble, but he put a finger to his lips and nodded to Scott, causing you to look up and see he was fast asleep.  You smiled, adoring his peaceful sleeping puppy-like expression.

“Alright there heart eyes” Stiles hissed quietly.  “I just wanted to know if you were going to eat your cookie” You rolled your eyes, but grabbed the complimentary package off of the tray in front of your seat and handed it to him.  Stiles grinned and winked at you before going back to his seat.  You could hear Lydia scolding him quietly for taking your cookie, which only made you chuckle as you leaned back into Scott, putting back in your earbud.

“y/n?” You sighed slightly when you heard Scott’s voice, looking up at him guiltily.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up” You said, but he smiled and shook his head.

“No worries” He mumbled.  “Besides, it can’t be that much longer of a flight can it?”


seven hours later


“Remember over five hours ago when you said it wasn’t a long flight?” You yawned as you dragged your suitcase into the hotel.  Scott couldn’t even reply coherently.  In fact, everyone was very visibly exhausted.  You were sure that Malia was going to drop onto the floor any moment, and that one of you would have to carry her and her suitcase to your rooms.  You watched warily and with little interest as Lydia and Scott were at the counter, checking in and asking for room keys.  As well as other questions about things like breakfast and towels provided by the hotel.

“Hey” Stiles’ elbow bumped yours, and you blinked slowly towards him when you turned to him.  “You feeling alright? You’ve seemed off”

“Just… tired I suppose” You said, and Stiles gave you a look.  “Okay and I guess that I’m a little nervous this vacation isn’t going to… work” You told him slowly.

“Not going to work?”

“I mean, we’re supposed to be protecting Beacon Hills, what if something happens while we aren’t there? What if something happens while we’re here?”

“Hon, nothing’s gonna happen” Malia said.  You looked over to see she had the handle of her suitcase extended, her elbow resting on it and her hand supporting her head.  You were genuinely surprised she hadn’t fallen asleep standing there.

“We don’t know that” You mumbled with a shrug.  Malia made a big yawn and smacked her lips a few times.

“Pro’lly won’t tho…” You and Stiles looked to each other, both of you wondering if you should do something about her or not.

“Alright you guys, we got the keys finally” Scott and Lydia came back over to you, each of them holding a room key.  “Boys and girls?” The banshee asked, glancing over everyone.

“No way!”

“Definitely not!”

Both Scott and Stiles perked up instantly, shooting down the idea.  You almost jumped at how loud and quickly your boyfriend had spoken, your sleepy state vanishing as a more aware feeling replaced it.

“Really?” Lydia asked with a bored tone, but she was mostly just talking to Stiles.

“Yeah I mean… ya know…” If you weren’t so tired and if Stiles wasn’t so cringey, you would’ve made a comment.

“Babe, it’s one a.m, we’ve been on a plane, for nearly twelve hours, you really wanna-”

“Okay okay okay okay, Malia, come on you’re staying in our room” Stiles said, waving the werecoyote over to them.  Malia dragged her feet after them as they headed to the elevator, their suitcases rolling behind them.

“Guess that means we get our own room” You said to Scott with a quick wink before snatching the room key card out of his fingers.  His throat went dry and all he could do was stare at you.  “317” You read aloud, and handed the card back to him.  “Third floor it is.  Where are the others staying?” You asked as you and Scott began to head towards the elevator your friends had just taken.

“Fourth… wait…. Fifth.  Yeah I think fifth” You chuckled quietly and nodded, leaning against him as he pushed the button, waiting for the shaft to come back to the first floor.  Scott wrapped his arm around you without second thought, his palm running up and down your upper arm.  “You get anymore sleep on the plane?” He asked, and you tilted your hand back and forth as if to say so-so.

“I was, then Stiles woke me up to ask for my cookie” Scott laughed and shook his head.

“None after that?”

“Eh, I was enjoying your music.  You made me a magnificent playlist Scott thank you” You told him with a sweet smile.  He smiled back and kissed your head.

“I’m glad” He hummed before the doors opened.  You stepped in, Scott sliding his arm down around your waist, waiting impatiently for the doors to close again so you’d be secluded.  Luckily no one else was there.

So when the elevator dinged and the doors slid shut again, Scott released his luggage, tugging you closer and smashing his lips against yours.  You moaned instantly out of surprise, but your arms quickly flung around his neck so you could hold yourself more securely against him.  Your lips moved feverishly and all attempts for your tongue to dominate over his failed.  The mere idea of someone coming onto the elevator was the furthest thing from your mind as he shoved you against the wall, moving quickly towards your neck and leaving a trail of kisses everywhere he went.

“Sc-Scott” You barely mumbled out as he found your sweet spot with ease, furiously sucking on it and you swore you could’ve come right then, no stimulation or anything just the feel of him caging you in and his tongue rolling over a newly made love bite just below your ear.

“Shh, we’re on our floor” He spoke lowly, and fixed your hair and outfit for you.  Surely enough, the elevator slowed to a stop, and you shakily grabbed your suitcase before the doors opened again.

You’d give anything to have the room two floors higher right about now.

But you just tried to adjust yourself appropriately and follow him out into the hallways, heading towards your room.  You kept your steps quick, and not once did his grip on your hand loosen.  Even as you reached your room and he slid the keycard through the electric scanner, he still held onto you and pushed through the door.  You rushed in first, grabbing his suitcase in your empty hand and pushed them both into the small closet.  You could faintly hear the door close, but your heart was thundering so fast in your chest with adrenaline and lust that you didn’t register it until you turned to see it had closed, encasing you and Scott in the darkness of the hotel room.  He was already shrugging off his jacket, but took too long so you gripped the sleeves, and yanked them down his arms, discarding the offending coat to the floor and crashing your lips up to his.

A strangled sound that was a cross between a moan and a gasp left his lips upon your sudden action, and he wasted no more time as his hands found your hips, fingers slipping under the material of your shirt and pulling it swiftly up over your head.  It joined his own jacket on the floor.  The alpha smirked at you as he pulled his own shirt over his head, as though the action couldn’t have been done fast enough.  His hands cupped around your face for a moment as he kissed you again, softly but quickly.  Both of your feet blindly moved backwards, hoping to find where the bed was located.  Your shuffling stopped when he abruptly dropped his hands to your ass, lifting you up forcefully against him.  It was like instinct took over as they wrapped around his waist while his mouth leisurely left love bites all over your neck.  Your head tilted back as a filthy moan tumbled from your lips.  This only piqued Scott’s interest as he took to licking a light stripe from your clavical all along the front of your throat.

“Fuck” You whispered, never having had him do that before, but it was hot.  You lowered your head again to kiss him roughly, biting gently down on his bottom lip, and before he could even react, you were slipping your tongue into his shocked and now open for entry mouth.  This time Scott was prepared, his own tongue winning the battle of dominance before yours could even try.  You whined at your loss, but Scott didn’t seem to care.

“Awe, poor baby” He murmured, the tip of his nose sliding temptingly along your jaw, settling and nuzzling into the sweet spot below your ear that he’d previously left a small but deep purple mark.  You fisted your hands into his thick hair, a silent beg for something to happen.

And he granted this wish, dropping you completely onto the mattress which emitted a small yelp from your lips as you fell back, but you took the moment apart to wiggle out of your cozy travel leggings and kick them desperately to the floor.  Scott grinned, his hands wrapping around your ankles and pulling you to the edge of the bed.  You smirked up at him briefly before he slanted his lips over yours hungrily, a groan deep in his throat.  The sound only spurred you on further, hands flying out to the buckle of his belt and undoing it in lightning speed.  Scott chuckled.

“Eager are we?” He asked, and you looked up at him as you pulled the leather strap from all the loops around his jeans.  You grinned, getting up on your knees on the bed so that you were eye level with him.  His belt being dropped to the floor as you loosely laid your arms over his shoulders.

“Scott, I love you” You started sweetly, but leaned closer and seductively whispered, “But there’s something really fucking sexy about you when you’re in heat” He rose a brow at you, as though questioning your statement.

“Really?” He mused, and before you could reply, you were pinned back onto the mattress, his body hovering over yours.  “Because I think you forget how this goes” He growled out, causing all the air in your lungs to be lost.  “You think I’m going to beg for you?” Scott’s lips moved slowly as he spoke, a mere inch away from yours and you so terribly needed to feel them against yours again.  “You’re mine” He uttered, fingers trailing down your bare side, dancing along the hem of your panties and making you squirm.

“Scott” You whimpered, and he smirked at you.

“You’re the one who begs, I take what I want” He said in a smugness you’d never heard before.  He ducked his head down, lips planted wet kiss down your chest and between the valley of your breasts.  “These?” He kissed the swell of either breast, “Are mine” He continued, kissing down your stomach as it dipped in while you sucked in a harsh breath.  He looked up at you as he reached the hem of your panties once more, your eyes connecting and something fiery igniting inside of you.  Scott kept this gaze as he took two of his fingers, and stuck them into his mouth, hollowing his cheeks as he wet them.  You stirred on the blankets, but his other hand kept your hip planted down against bed.  “This?” He whispered, tucking the inner silk fabric to the side.  You hissed as he blew cool air against your wetness, then swiped his fingers up the slick entrance.  “Mine” He uttered, and again licked his fingers clean.

With that, he yanked your panties down your legs, and crawled back up your body to plant a hard kiss against your lips.

“So,” He murmured, kicking off his own boxers.  “You better start begging”

“Please” You cried out quietly, your brows scrunching together as you tried to wiggle up towards him, hoping to relieve some of the tension, but he kept you firmly pressed against the covers.

“Please… what?” He taunted, a smirk playing on his lips.  You groaned, hands wrapping over his shoulders at the base of his neck, pulling him down closer to you.

“Fuck me” You uttered out, and he smirked, lining himself up with your now dripping entrance.  He grinned, and without warning slammed into you.  You gasped, your hold on him tightening and your nails digging into his skin at the deliciously rough movement.  There wasn’t even time for you to adjust to his size, before he was rolling his hips again, your tits bouncing as your head rolled back, eyes fluttering shut as more and more desire flooded through your body.

Scott’s hands rose from where he kept himself up on the mattress, to grip onto the headboard, thrusting into you again, then keeping is quick pace.  Quicker than usual that is.

“Sc-Scott” You moaned, jaw quivering slightly as you met each of his thrusts, gasping slightly as he hit a spot deep inside you that made your muscles quiver.  “F-fuck fuck keep doing that” You pleaded, barely opening your eyes enough to see his own irises were glowing a blood red color.  Scott complied, and you could hear the wood headboard hitting the wall as is grip on it tightened.  Your shaking legs wrapped up around his hips again, allowing him further inside of you.  You snuck a hand down your stomach, your middle and forefinger coming into contact with your swollen clit and rubbing quickly over the sensitive nub, only making your moans louder.

You only cared about being heard by others in the hotel for a mere .2 seconds.

Once Scott swatted your pleasuring hand away and replaced your fingers with his thumb, rubbing tight figure eights over your clit as he continued pounding into you, you lost all care.  You practically screamed his name, along with other incoherent but dirty cries.  Scott leaned over slightly, eyes flickering from yours to his lips, his movements not stalling once as he kissed you roughly, teeth catching your plump lip before rolling his tongue over the area.  Your eyes fluttered open, meeting his as he pulled his mouth away from yours.

“I-I’m close” You stammered, your open lips brushing against his as he continued on.  “Scott harder p-please” You whined, and he obeyed, a snug smirk toying on his lips as the hand that had previously been rubbing feverishly on your clit, gripped onto your hip to stop your own movements, and slam your hips against his roughly.  You gasped and you were certain that every single muscle in your body was shaking, and you could feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge with every thrust.

“Fuck y/n” Scott grumbled, and you barely saw the red in his eyes before your vision flooded white and you were overcome with a wave of pleasure.  You screamed out his name one last time, and soon after you could feel hot semen flowing inside of you.  Your eyes had fallen shut, and you felt the bed shift as he fell to his side next to you.

Your chest heaved and you both layed sprawled naked (though in all the rushed madness you hadn’t even taken your bra off).  Your hand blindly reached for him, the back of your knuckles resting on his chest for a moment.  Scott turned his head towards you, taking in your exhausted state as he clasped his hand around your momentarily before getting up.  He pulled his boxers back on, and went over to where you’d haphazardly shoved them.

You were almost asleep when you felt him adjust your legs, slipping a soft new pair of cotton panties and kissing your forehead as he maneuvered your body up slightly so he could undo the clasp of your bra, and pulling the straps off your arms.

“Back for more?” You mumbled sleepily, and he couldn’t help his chuckle as he helped you into a tee shirt he’d packed just for you to sleep in.  You smiled gratefully, your arms wrapping around his neck before he could move away.  “Stay”

“Baby I am” He said, another small laugh, but you wouldn’t release.  So he just lifted you up and scooched you over slightly so he could crawl into bed, adjusting the covers to lay over your body and his.  You smiled lazily and snuggled right up next to him.

“Do you feel better now?” You whispered as you got comfortable against Scott’s chest.  He smiled, rubbing his thumb over your forehead comfortingly as he dropped a kiss there.

“Much” He hummed in response.  “I love you” You smiled, pulling back enough so you could hook your finger under his chin and pull his lips down to yours in a soft kiss.

“I love you too” You whispered out, kissing him again and then laying your cheek against his chest, warming you up instantaneously.  Scott sighed, his hands rubbing along your back, fingers trailing on your arms.

“Goodnight baby” He finally spoke quietly, his velvety lips still bushing over your head.

“Goodnight, Scott” You yawned back before falling asleep.


scott mccall in heat is my actual kink
(i could use feedback cuz i’m still new to smut?)

xoxo ~ jordie

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.

Masterlist

Originally posted by harrysimpact

UPDATED!

One Shots:

Stone Cold

Y/N and Harry are lovers and destined to be together (or so she thought). Based on Stone Cold by Demi Lovato.

Can’t Let Go

Part two of ‘Stone Cold’ where Harry shows up on Y/N’s doorstep after six months.

Don’t Call Me That*

Harry wants Y/N to call him Alex. In bed.

What’s My Name (Part two of ‘Don’t Call Me That)*

Y/N calls Harry Alex. In bed.

Always- Alex!Harry

Alex tells his lover that he’s going off to Dunkirk.. into the war.

Drunk Harry- A Concept

A lot of alcohol calls for a whiny cuddly and dirty drunk Harry.

Blurbs:

Is there a reason you’re naked in my bed?

Apparently a drunk best friend Harry calls for him to take off his clothes.

You got a cute butt.

Harry gets very handsy when he’s back home from tour. Today’s obsession: Y/N’s butt.

Sharing is caring. Now gimme your fries.

Where all Harry really wants is to eat your fries.

Did they hurt you?

Where your littlest gets hurt unintentionally by his siblings but it’s nothing a little ice cream can’t fix.

Why do you only kiss me when I’m sleeping?

Harry comes home late from work and his girl looks adorable sleeping.

Don’t touch me. We’re fighting.

You really want Chinese food and Harry wants to touch you.

I won’t let you get hurt.

Harry’s dangling form a thousand feet for a music video and nobody told you about it.

I prefer blondes.

Harry’s trying to get to know the girl at the bar and pickup lines are not usually his thing.

You’re so clingy. I love it

Where you’re sick and all you want is Harry.

Did you really think I could ever replace you?

Arrival of a new sibling sometimes comes with requiring assurance that mummy and daddy still love you.

Did you just make that noise?

Clumsy Harry calls for weird noises.

Can you just man up and change his diaper?

Dirty diapers make Y/N squeamish.

If you can’t sleep.. we could have sex?

Apparently sleeplessness on an airplane calls for sex.

You need to see a doctor.

Where Y/N refuses to accept that her ex got her pregnant.