yep. i said it

anonymous asked:

What Cate thing on Ellen? Is it new?

Yep it’s from today’s show I think but Ellen said “name something and i’ll ask for the pic” and Cate goes “I wanna see Harry Styles naked” like if a 48 year old man was over there asking for nudes of a 23 year old actress everyone would be calling the dude a creep (and well deserved) so like why does she think she can say something like that?? it pisses me off and makes me hella uncomfortable

chaoticmess1011  asked:

NSFW headcannons for Jane?

Ahh yes my favorite lesbian soccer mom

She’s honestly really delicate when it comes to sex. She takes her time and assures them they’ll be okay.

Yet when thinks kick up she’s rough and fast and FUCK ME

Her and clock have had a few flings, but neither speak of it much.

She looked at smile cunt’s face and said ‘yep, I’m definitely gay’

When she brings a girl home, she plays Melanie Martinez. It’s her favorite thing to fuck to.

Once had sex with a guy. Once. It was before she came out, and hated it. Boning a blind guy isn’t the best thing.

In honor of my 5th semester in a row of all A’s (hell yeah boiiiii) I’m going to make this post. I don’t know how I did it because I am honestly so lazy.

  1. Grades are reflective of your work ethic and your ability to strategize, not your intelligence.
  2. Be real with yourself. Are you sure you are ready to commit to perfect grades? Are you ready to work, day in and day out, when it sucks and classes are boring and hard? Are you ready to feel satisfied for all of the hard work you put in? If the answer is yes, congratulations. You are on your way to becoming a straight-A student.
  3. Prioritize classes. Not every class requires the same amount of work, and you should find out the hardest classes early on in the semester. These will take the most time, and you will have to spend extra time and effort to get a good grade. When choosing classes, make sure you will be able to handle them. Make sure you will be able to ace all of them, at the same time. That being said, don’t shy away from hard classes. You have to challenge yourself. Take a few AP’s. They are worth it.
  4. Make friends with teachers/professors, especially the ones that teach hard subjects. I am very close with my chemistry professor, and this has proved invaluable because I am able to get free tutoring, as well as a great recommendation letter for college apps.
  5. Have other goals. You need to do something that is not studying to keep you productive. I would highly recommend joining a sports team or club. I exercise (usually running and weightlifting) at least 2 hours a day, usually more. Playing 2 sports made me more healthy, social, and productive. Running calms me down, and weightlifting makes me feel strong. Do whatever makes you feel good, as long as it’s healthy.
  6. Learn to manage time well. How do I play 2 sports, get straight A’s, have a studyblr, and have time to spare? The answer is that I take care of myself well. I go to bed at 10:30 or 11 each night so I can get 7 ish hours of sleep. I do homework during lunch or in class so I don’t do it at home.
  7. Slack off. Yep. I said it. I complete assignments strategically, spending the most time on things worth the most points. Things that will only take a few minutes can occasionally be done in class right before the teacher is collecting homework. I have done this all too often. That being said, small assignments really do add up so make sure you do an acceptable job and turn them in on time.
  8. Turn something in. It is ok to sometimes slack off in quality, but if something is due, you better turn something in. Something is better than nothing. Getting extensions on assignments for no reason will make the teacher think you are lazy, or don’t care about their class. Every single essay and worksheet does not have to be your best work, but make sure you fill the basic assignment requirements, and it should be enough. 
  9. Extra. Credit. Some classes don’t offer this, but if they do, just freaking do it man. Knowing you can miss an assignment because you did extra credit earlier is the best feeling, especially when doing that assignment would have meant losing sleep. 
  10. Plan (sort of). I have a bullet journal where I write important assignments down. As I said, there are some assignments not worth your time that you can half-ass. The ones I write down are the ones I need to do well. If you write down every. last. assignment. you will burn out and stop planning altogether. 
  11. Sometimes, go above and beyond. You know that subject you really like? With an awesome teacher? Spend time on it. Make your project extra beautiful, and read ahead in the textbook. Watch video lectures online, and maybe even make a studyblr post about it. Your extra work might not be turned in for credit, but it will make you feel a whole lot more knowledgeable on the subject. Do this for classes you hate, too. Maybe it’s not as bad as you think it is. The extra effort might allow you to see the beauty in a subject you used to despise. 
  12. Be real with yourself (again). This past semester, I had a B+ for a few months in a subject I really love. I wasn’t mad, and I didn’t stress about it, because, honestly? It doesn’t really matter. Eventually I brought the grade up again, but it would be fine to me either way. 

anonymous asked:

What did LOUIS sign to HARRY after her couldn't make his solo??

Wow, you really challenged my non-existent tagging system in June. :)
Found the post though!

June 1st - Manchester (WWA tour)

“Hazza”

“Not a big deal”

“Sad one”

RESEARCH POST ON THE SIGNS HE USED:

moss4peace:

moss4peace:

Harry misses his last note during moments because he was ill, and Louis telling him not to hit his high notes

My niece is deaf and has cochlear implants, she can hear and speak now but also knows sign language and reads lips.
I asked her to tell me what Louis is saying. Using the UK sign language, he is basically saying with affection, “Not a big deal, Sad One”.

Yep! She also said, “He called him ‘Hazza’ but I thought his name was Harry?”…….. I died.

Maybe, if I post every time this happens, abled people will stop thinking that this sort of thing is rare.

A while back I was sitting by the restaurant in Ikea and using my phone while I waited for Marvin to buy some things.

I was seated at one of four high-backed chairs arranged around a low coffee table. Across the table from me was a stranger, his young son sat in the chair to the right of me, and his daughter, who was about nine-years-old, sat on the floor at the coffee table. She was colouring and her brother was playing on a DS.

Their father stared at me while pretending he wasn’t. It’s pretty obvious when someone is watching you from eight feet away, though. I didn’t get angry vibes so I wasn’t concerned and just pointedly ignored him while catching Pidgey after Pidgey.

My phone had a semi-transparent, soft plastic case on it. I usually covered it with cute stickers. At that time, it had large words written in sharpie on the back that said, “It’s rude to stare”.

I was absorbed in my game when the stranger across from me laughed suddenly, loudly, and pointed me out to his daughter.

“Her phone says, ‘It’s rude to stare’,” he said.

He chuckled and looked at my face, expecting an explanation.

I stared at him.

He stared back.

I sighed.

“Oh, yeah. People stare at me a lot,” Just like you were, I thought. I waved my phone to show off the words. “So I wrote that on there. So, yeah.”

I went back to my game. Guy chuckled again.

“Really, people stare at you? Why?” He asked.

I looked up from my phone. I stared at him.

He stared back. I raised my eyebrows. He kept waiting for an answer.

I held up the butterfly-printed cane that had been leaning against my legs by way of explanation. “Sometimes I use a walker or wheelchair, too.”

“And people stare?” He pressed.

“Yep,” I said shortly.

“Wow. Well, you know, I think it’s probably because of their own personal fear.”

I seriously bristled at that. The tone was awful, really patronizing.

“Yeah. Seeing disabled people in public is a real shock. We remind people of their own mortality,” I said humourlessly, adding in some sarcastic laughter for good measure. I tried to signal my disinterest by lowering my head and leaning over my phone screen.

“Yeah-” he said, charging full speed ahead like he didn’t even need me for this conversation. He clearly had something to say all prepared.

"And you know, it’s funny. But I used to be scared of- people- people with disabilities,” he said, with a smile and lean-in, touching his fingertips together, making me want to punch his face.

I was in a bit of social shock. I just kept thinking, are you kidding me? This Ikea food court confession is happening right now, huh?

“Not physical disabilities, but mental disabilities.”

He was so smarmy, you guys. When he said that, I think my soul left my body. And I had no idea how to either respond or extricate myself reasonably. 

I hesitated, looked from this guy to his children, who were watching the exchange with awkward interest.

“Oh. Uh. Well, I’m autistic, so…” I let my words trail off. To this day I have no idea where that sentence would have gone.

“Oh. Oh! But I mean, you can’t tell,” he turned tomato red. “You’re so well-spoken and- I guess you could say that you have really overcome.”

As he was fumbling, I was giving him an exaggerated but sincerely felt grimace and an unimpressed "ehhh”.

At his pronouncement of my overcoming, I sat up straight and said, loudly and pissed enough that his children started looking worried, “Uh, yikes. No.”

Guy’s daughter looked like she would rather he did anything but continue talking, but that’s what he did. Like any allistic abled white dude worth his salt /s, he powered through, ignoring my obvious and projected displeasure.

“But, I mean. In school, it’s funny, because it ended up that most of my friends were handicapped. I guess I kind of protected them-” His voice took on an artificially soft, sticky quality. It was at this moment that I snapped.

“Okay. I’m going to cut you off there,” I said. I put my hand up. His tomato face spoiled.

“What? Why?” He seemed torn between expressing frustration and wanting to appear kind-hearted and open-minded in front of his children.

“Well. Uh. Ugh,“ I looked at his kids, wondering how harsh or how kind I should be. I hated that he put me in this spot. In that moment I hated him so much.

"Well, you’re saying a lot of stuff that non-disabled people think is nice to hear, but it’s not. It’s just- it’s just not.” I knew it was pointless to try to explain. My words were failing fast. He didn’t really care, anyway.

“I wouldn’t even be able to explain it to you,” I shrugged.

He gaped at me. Now he was angry. This wasn’t going how he had wanted it to.

“I know you’re coming from a good place. But it’s not nice. It’s just not… yeah.” I gripped the handle of my cane in one hand and my phone, Pokémon Go forgotten, in the other. I fought the urge to literally run away. I felt the surreal pressure of my behaviour being one of these kids’ formative disability-related experiences.

“Oh. Uh. Well. Okay. Sorry,” he said, embarrassed, not sorry. “And uh, thanks for saying that,” he said, trying to get me back. I looked away.

“I just-” he started. Even his children looked unhappily surprised that he was trying for that last word.

“I just want to say that you’re great.

I didn’t look at him. I smiled at his daughter, who smiled back out of habit, more confused than anything. His son looked down at his DS, secondhand embarrassment turning him red too.

“Hmm. Well, your kids seem nice,” I offered breezily.

After that, I moved away from the circle of green chairs and sat in an uncomfortably high stool in the corner. I hid there, head down, my hands shaking very slightly, feeling paranoid. Like I failed. And that my friends, is ableism. 

Another thing I'm positive about?

Jon is playing Dany.

Point A: Tyrion saying Jon is in ‘love’ with Dany, giving her longing looks is bullshit.

Point B: All the conversations beyond the wall.

Point C: Absolutely no jealousy concerning Jorah.

Point D: “Give it to your children,” Stark theme and Sansa.

Point E: The 'fake’ sleeping on Jon’s part. The huge sigh and guilty expression when the big D leaves.

Point F: Behind the scenes D and D were talking about HER feelings, and Jon realizing them.

Hmph.

track11stockholmsyndrome replied to your post: yike apparently one of the other guests on the…

Yep, I was there. Graham asked if anyone had met Harry. Brendan said, “No, but I saw him on SNL. He’s totally gay, it’ll be like Barry Manilow and he’ll come out when he’s 75.” Everyone was like … and the subject was changed. It will probably be cut.

thank you for the full story and DOUBLE YIKES UGH

Somebody once told me the world is gonna roll me, I ain’t the sharpest tool in the shed. She was lookin’ kind of dumb with her finger and her thumb in the shape of an “L” on her forehead. Well the years start coming and they don’t stop coming, fed to the rules and I hit the ground running. Didn’t make sense not to live for fun, your brain gets smart but your head gets dumb. So much to do, so much to see, so what’s wrong with taking the back streets? You’ll never know if you don’t go. You’ll never shine if you don’t glow. Hey now, you’re an all-star, get your game on, go play. Hey now, you’re a rock star, get the show on, get paid. And all that glitters is gold, only shooting stars break the mold. It’s a cool place and they say it gets colder. You’re bundled up now, wait till you get older, but the meteor men beg to differ judging by the hole in the satellite picture. The ice we skate is getting pretty thin. The water’s getting warm so you might as well swim. My world’s on fire, how about yours? That’s the way I like it and I never get bored. Hey now, you’re an all-star, get your game on, go play. Hey now, you’re a rock star, get the show on, get paid. All that glitters is gold. Only shooting stars break the mold. Hey now, you’re an all-star, get your game on, go play. Hey now, you’re a rock star, get the show, on get paid. And all that glitters is gold, only shooting stars…. Somebody once asked could I spare some change for gas? I need to get myself away from this place. I said “Yep, what a concept. I could use a little fuel myself and we could all use a little change.” Well, the years start coming and they don’t stop coming, fed to the rules and I hit the ground running. Didn’t make sense not to live for fun. Your brain gets smart but your head gets dumb. So much to do, so much to see, so what’s wrong with taking the back streets? You’ll never know if you don’t go (go!). You’ll never shine if you don’t glow. Hey now, you’re an all-star, get your game on, go play. Hey now, you’re a rock star, get the show on, get paid. And all that glitters is gold, only shooting stars break the mold. And all that glitters is gold, only shooting stars break the mold.

I Just Want You All To Myself Tate Langdon x Reader

Words: 3,213

Request: @multihxe :Could you do a Tate imagine where he gets jealous because y/n was having a study session with some boy from school and the boy was getting a little too close to her??

Description: You invite a boy over to study and it starts going south, espcially with Tate.

Author’s Note: @multihxe I hope this is what you wanted!! I apologize if it is far from ehat you wanted! Requests are open! Enjoy reading. XOXO

2011

I had just moved to the infamous Murder House in Los Angeles, California, a couple months ago. It wasn’t as bad as I thought moving across the country and starting brand new. The reason why my family and I moved was because my dad had an affair on my mom. My mom isn’t happy. I know that is because anytime my dad tries to hold her hand she takes her hand away from his. Also if he enters the room she has to be at the other side of the room so that there isn’t any arguments. I just don’t get why they don’t just get a divorce. I mean seriously they are both unhappy in their marriage. Even though my mom still says they love each other. I could actually care less. i have someone in my life who loves and cares for me. His name is Tate Langdon. He is one of my dad’s patients. My dad is a psychiatrist. I didn’t really care if he was crazy. At least he is seeking help to get better. It was all really fate how we met. I was just walking downstairs and I bumped into him while going to the kitchen. It was awkward it was just us staring into our eyes. He then broke  the tension by laughing. I muttered a ‘Sorry’ and he said ‘Don’t me.’ I guess what they say is true. Love at first sight is real, well for me and Tate that is. There was something wrong with Tate though. The thing is that he is dead. I don’t care though. He admitted to all the wrong things he has done and I couldn’t be happier.

Originally posted by a-sky-full-of-stars-x

Anyways I was at school at Westfield and was getting my books to go to my next class. I closed my locker shut. When I did there was a jock right behind where the locker was.

“Hey (Y/N)!” Jacob said.

“Hi Jacob. Would you mind getting out of the way for me to go to my next class.” I said while rolling my eyes.

“Oh, come on. Don’t be like that (Y/N). I just want to talk!” He said.

“What do you want to talk about? You better talk fast because you have thirty seconds.” I said.

“Okay well you know that big science test we have?” I shook my head yes.”Well I was wondering if maybe I could go to your house and we could have a study session? Maybe you could help me ace it?” He asked.

“Okay. Meet me at my house at four, okay?” I said not really wanting to let him come over.

“Thanks (Y/N)! You’re the best!” Jacob goes to kiss my cheek but I put my hand infront of my face before he could. 

“Sorry but none of that!” I said then he awkwardly left. I went to my last period of the day, Science. Jacob was staring at me the whole time during class. “How am I supposed to help him study if he isn’t paying attention at all?” I mentally groaned. The bell rung and I rushed to get out of the classroom before Jacob could approach me. I arrived at my locker and I grabbed my science textbook and notes to help me study with Jacob. I quickly packed it in my backpack and I ran out the school doors before Jacob could once again approach me. I walk to my car and unlock it. I got in and drove to my house. I quickly got out of my car seeing that both my parents were still out of town for a day trip. I rushed inside to see what time it was and it was three fifteen. I let a sigh out of my mouth as I knew that Jacob wasn’t going to be here soon. 

“Hey babe!” Tate said. His voice startled me and I jumped landing in strong arms knowing that it was Tate. 

“Hey!” I said and turned around in his arms to see his face. He let go of the frip he had on me and put his arms around my waist while I put my hands on both of his cheeks. “I missed you so much today Tate. Why do you have to be isolated here?” I whined.

“I don’t know but it is worth it to see you come home and be able to be with you as soon as possible. I missed you too.” He said then kissed my forehead. He brought his face closer to mine and I stepped on my tippy toes and kissed him. We had a little make out session in the kitchen but I didn’t care. There was no one there to see it.  I broke apart and went to look at the kitchen timer and saw that it was three fifty-eight.

“Oh my gosh! Tate you have got to disappear like now!” I said.

“Why whats going on? Are your parents here?” Tate asked.

“No. I have a friend coming over for a study session.” I said.

“So? I would love to meet them. I think it is about time that you tell your friends that you have a boyfriend.” Tate said.

“Yeah and then whta would happen if they wanted a double date and NOT on Halloween, huh?” I said.

“And that is why you are the smart one in this relationship.” He said.

“Tate, can you PLEASE just disappear?” I begged.

“Okay. I love you” He said.

“I love you too.”I smiled and pecked his lips but then he grabbed my neck and started kissing me more.

“TATE!” I said by being muffled by his lips on mine.

“Okay fine. Bye.” He smiled and said.

Originally posted by anchosixx

Then I blinked my eyes and he was gone. I heard the doorbell ring and I rushed to answer it.

“Hi Jacob.” I said while letting him in.

“Hi (Y/N)! How are you today?” Jacob said and smiled cheekly.

“Are we ready to study?” I said wanting to get this study session over with. 

“Yep.” Jacob responded.

“Alright. Follow me.” I said. I closed and locked the door and we walked up my staircase to my room. “Here you can set your bookbag next to my desk on the right.” I said.

“Okay!” He said while putting his bookbag down. I pointed to the two chairs at my desk as saying to sit down here. Jacob did but only after he pulled my chair out. 

“Oh, thanks.” I said while sitting down.

“Anything for the lady.” He said. I mentally prayed hoping Tate wasn’t lurking in the corner watching all of what was happening. Little did I know that that was exactly happening. I soon let that thought slip my mind  and that was the worst thing to do. I saw Jacob looking through his bookbag over and over again.

“What is wrong?” I asked.

“I might have accidentally left my science stuff in my locker.” He said looking down embarrased.

“Okay. I guess we will just have to share.” I said 

“Okay. Sorry.” He said.

“It’s fine.” I said. I started to read section by section. When I was done with a paragraph I would ask him if I needed to explain anything to him and he would usually say yes.

“Can I say something before you continue reading?” He asked.

“Sure.” I said not sure of what he was going to say.

“You are really cute when you are explaining this stuff to me.” He said.

“Um, I think you should know that I have a boyfriend.” I said.

“Well he isn’t here so that means I can do this.” He said.

“That means you can do w—” I tried to ask but his lips met mine and struggled to pull him away from me. He put his hand around my neck and pulled me closer. I couldn’t escape. I started to kiss back. We parted and started to kiss again. My thoughts soon interrupted me. ‘(Y/N)! Are you kidding me? YOU HAVE TATE! STOP KISSING JACOB NOW!’

“Stop! I shouldn’t be doing this. I think it is a good thing for you to leave now.” I said standing up and taking charge.

“Why? I thought you liked me.” He said.

“No! I have a boyfriend! That I am happily with!” I said. Jacob stood up and started approaching me.

“Oh come on don’t be like that!” He grabbed my wrist and pulled me closer to him. We were just inches apart when Tate barged in the door.

“HEY! HANDS OFF OF HER!” Tate yelled. Everything happened so fast. The next thing I know is Jacob is on the ground with Tate on top of him, beating Jacob to a pulp.

“TATE! STOP!” I yelled making Tate stop and look at me.”Run Jacob!” JAcob got up and ran for his life and I heard the front door slam shut and let out the breath I was holding.

“Tate! Why did you do that?” I asked yelling.

“He had his hands all over you! I wasn’t going to let him touch you like that!”

“Yes but I had it undercontrol! I was going to stop him until you barged in and trampled him!” I said.

“YOU DID NOT HAVE IT UNDERCONTROL!” He yelled.

“I DID! IF YOU WOULD HAVE WAITED JUST FOR A COUPLE SECONDS! WHY DO YOU HAVE TO BE SO JEALOUS?” I yelled.

“I AM NOT JEALOUS!” Tate said.

“YOU SO ARE! When my guy friend came over here you lurked in the corner and when he just reached over me you started yelling your head off at him. It’s like if a guy just looked at me then you would kill him!” I said.

“Oh I’m sorry that I can’t be protective of my GIRLFRIEND!” 

“WHAT YOU ARE DOING IS NOT PROTECTION, IT IS JUST YOU GETTING JEALOUS!” I yelled.

“I JUST LOVE YOU! Is that a crime?” He yelled but then started to cry. “I just love you!” Then he started to cry even harder. Then it made me cry.

Originally posted by paradise-broken

“Yes but what you do isn’t what I want. I don’t want to become your…property.” I said with my voice being choked up.

“Then what are you going to do then (Y/N)?” He said.

“I’m going to do something I never dreamed of.” I said while crying and shutting my eyes.

“No please (Y/N). Don’t do what I think you’re going to do.” He pleaded.

“Go away.” I whispered with my eyes shut. When I gained confidence I said it again but louder.”GO AWAY!” I yelled. I opened my eyes adn i didn’t see Tate anymore. I collapsed to the ground and tried to keep my body from shaking.

Originally posted by nxtafraidtofly

“I’m sorry (Y/N). I love you.” Tate said but I couldn’t hear it. 

The next few days were awful. I didn’t have anything to look forward to when I came home. But i still didn’t want to see him. I want to wait for a little bit. I want him to rethink what he is doing that made me do this to him. My parents started to travel more without me. I was just home alone moping wanting to feel him around me but I knew that it was to early. I was doing this to save our relationship and maybe start again or begin where we left off.

October, Four Months After

I think I am going to let Tate back into my life now. I walked around my house on October 7 calling out his name. I went to the basement.

“Tate? I’m ready now. I’m ready to pick up our relationship. I miss you too much.” I said while walking around. I finally saw him come out of the shadows and I started to cry when I saw his tear stained face with a tear trickiling down.

Originally posted by n-e-v-e-r-m-0-r-3

“(Y/N). Is that you? Really you?” Tate asked.

“Yes baby its really me.” I said. I start running towards him and he picks me up and twirls me around. “I missed you so much. I am sorry for doing that to you but I had to let you know what you were doing and how it bothered me.” I said letting him know the reason.

“I know the time you spent away from me allowed me to think about what was wrong with me. What I was doing wasn’t love it was crazy obsession jealousy. I am so sorry.” He said.

“It’s okay. I forgive. I thank you for protecting me Tate. I love you.” I pulled away from the embrace we found ourselves in.

Originally posted by un--creative

“I love you (Y/N). I care about your feelings more than mine and I am thankful that you gave me a wake up call if I continued what I was doing.” Tate said. I pulled his neck down to mine and we kissed. We kissed for a long time and it was full of passion and longing for each other.

After that day everything was back to normal. It was the day before Halloween and Tate had told me to go downstairs to the basement. I did.

“Tate?” I said and then turned to walk facing away from the stairs. I turned around I was met with a man in a black suit. “TATE!” I yelled backing away but the man just started walking towards me. “TATE!” I was pressed against the staircase as the man was infront of me pressed against me. All of a sudden I heard him laughing. He unzipped his cap and it was Tate.

“YOU JERK!” I yelled and pushed him.

“I scared you.” He teased.

“Did not.” He then leaned closer to my head and we kissed. 

“I really didn’t scare you?” he said as we pulled apart.

“I said no. When are we going to go on a real date?” I asked.

“On Halloween. That’s the only day of the year where I am allowed out of this house.”

“Okay!” I said and pecked his cheek. “What did you want me to come down here.” I asked.

“Oh right! I got you this rose.” Tate said as he handed it to me. I gladly took it. “I painted it black, I know how you don’t like normal things.”

Originally posted by rainbowsnowlight

“I think this is the sweetest thing that a boy has ever done for me. Thank you.” I stood on my tippy toes and kissed on the lips. We broke apart. “Is that it? I have to go back to do my homework if thats all.”

“Yes thats it. I love you.” 

“I love you too. See you tomorrow for our date.” I winked and started to walk upstairs to my bedroom. 

Halloween Night

Tonight is when Tate and I were going to go on our date. I got ready for it. I didn’t know where we were going but I knew that anything was going to be perfect with him. A knock came on my door and I opened it to see Tate.

“Are you ready for our date?” He asked.

“Of course I am! Where are we going?” I asked.

“Somewhere that I loved to go when I was in high school, where i could let all the stress free from my head when times got tough.” 

“Okay! Do I need to bring anything extra?”

“Nope. If it gets cold you have me to warm you up.” He warmly smiled. We exited the house and started to walk. It was a good fifteen minute walk and then we reached our destination, the beach. We walked over to the lifeguard booth and I sat down on a concrete wall. When I had just sat down I felt my phone buzzing. I took out my phone and I saw that it was my mom calling. 

“(Y/N) where are you?” my mom said frantically.

“I’m just hanging with friends.” I said and looked where Tate was and he was fooling around on the lifeguard ‘porch’. “I’m sorry i should have called or left a note. Is this the part where you make me come home?” I said praying it wasn’t.

“Are you safe?”

“I swear.” 

“Are you having fun?”

“Yeah.”

“Was there anything that happened while we were gone?”

“There was some banging but I think it was just some little kids playing a prank.” I felt something on my neck and I realized that it was Tate.

“I want you home in an hour.”

“Okay. All right. Bye.” I tried to hang up quickly so I could spend more time with Tate. I finally hung up.

“Who was that?” Tate asked and stopped kissing my neck.

“My mom.” I smiled.

“Oh.” He said. Then he leaned closer to me and kissed me. We pulled apart and we walked down to the beach. When we reached the sand I layed down and he got on top of me and started kissing me again.

Originally posted by oobandsoo

We eventually stopped not wanting to get any further. He sat up with me and put his arm around me. He got up and light a fire. Then he returned and sat next to me, pulling me close. I rested my head against his.

“I used to come here when the world would close in and got so small I couldn’t breathe. I’d used to look out in the ocean and think, ‘Yo, scum bag, high school counts for jack. Kurt Cobain, Quentin Tarantino, Brando, De Niro, Pacino.” I looked at him as he turned his head to look at me. “All high school dropouts. I hated high school.  So I’d come out here and I’d look at this vast, limitless exspanse. And it’s like, thats your life, man. You can do anything. You can be anything. Screw high school. That’s…that’s just a blip in your timeline. Don’t get stuck there.” He looked at me and I leaned my head on his.

“Very knowledgable Tate. I love you.” I looked at him and kissed him.

“I love you too.” He said when we pulled apart. 

“Tate, can I ask you something?” I asked.

“Anything.” Tate responded.

“Why would you get so jealous?” I said with my head leaning in his. He took in a deep breath.

“I would get so jealous because I saw what it did to my parents when my dad didn’t care. When he would just let go. They were so much in love until he stopped caring. I didn’t want that to happen to us. I love you too much but to be completley honest it was because I just want you all to myself. I don’t want to share you. I want you to be with me and only me.” He said and then kissed me deeply.

“I understand Tate. I don’t want that to happen to us either. I will love you forever.”

“I will too.” 

That night was filled with love. I didn’t want whatever happened to Tate’s parents to happen to us.  I wouldn’t allow that but I understand why he reacted that way and I can’t say I blame him. I will spend forever with him. No. Matter. What.

Originally posted by dreamer-with-nightmares

James Stewart and Kim Novak taking a break during the filming of Vertigo  (Alfred Hitchcock, 1958)

“The last time she saw Stewart was when they bumped into each other at an airport [he died in 1997]. “I said, ‘Jimmy, I wish we could do a movie together.’ And he said, ‘I can’t be a leading man anymore. I don’t want to make movies anymore.’ He’d been away from movies for a while. He said, ‘You know, I walk out my back yard and I can’t remember sometimes why I walk out there.’ I said, ‘I understand that, it happens.’ He said, ‘Yep. Happens. [Pause.] Sure is good seeing you again.’ And I said, ‘You too, Jimmy.’ And gave him a hug.”   - The Telegraph [UK], 2014

My Introduction into the LGBTA+ Community

This came to me while in the shower. I nearly forgot about it but now I can’t forget it and I think it’s important.


Back when I was a small eighth grader, my Christian school asked me to go to a local fair and hold a book reading for kids. I was super excited and said yes right away. I got there, read a book or two, then I had a half hour break. I walked around and saw a sign that said ‘ART!!! X% OF PROCEEDS GO TO CHARITIES TO HELP LGBTA+ MINORS!!“. I don’t remember the exact percentage, but I remember thinking "Art??? I love art!!”

I walked over to the tent where there were two people. One girl with dark purple hair, and another 'girl’ (in quotes for a reason) who had a shaved head. They were in highschool and I was terrified… They were the big kids at a PUBLIC SCHOOL!!! I asked them what lgbta+ meant because I wanted to know where my money was going.

They said “Lesbians, gays, bisexuals, transexuals, ace/aro, and others!” And I’m like??? There’s more than just gay??

They laughed and said yes, asked me my orientation (straight then) and introduced themselves. (I’ll use their traits as names) Purple was a girl, and pansexual, which she explained meant she could love anyone no matter what. (Anyone? I asked. Yep! She said smiling. I just care if you’re kind). She has a girlfriend who was a lesbian.

Artist (the persons who art was being sold) was nonbinary and bisexual. They explained what they meant, and how bi was different from pan. But I was confused about nombinary. I told them I didn’t understand how you could be nothing! They smiled softly and told me this.

“It’s okay if you don’t understand! It can be confusing. All the matters is that you’ll treat me like everyone else.”

We talked until I had to go back, but on all my breaks I went back to them. I told them how my mom was at my stand and wouldn’t be happy if she knew I was there. They told me about highschool and art and lgbta+. I ended up buying two pieces from her. One I’m not a huge fan of bc I grew out of the style but the other I still have hanging up after almost five years.

At some point, I had to leave. They hugged me, wished me luck in life, and we parted ways.

I was packing up when I saw a huge floppy sunhat come into my tent. It was Purple and Artist, who got a huge hat so my mom wouldn’t see their “boy hair cut”. They said hello, pretended not to know me, but slipped me a slip of paper, smiled, and walked away. I opened it to see a drawing of a hotdog Artist drew me (I let calling every dog a hot dog because it was very hot outside). On the bottom was a small heart.

This is so important to me. Those people could’ve easily brushed me off as just a kid who is sheltered and bigoted. But they didn’t. They took me in for the day and (most likely painfully for them) explained everything and answered all my questions. I don’t think I’d be on terms with my sexuality without them.

Long story short, always be nice. Have patience, be kind, and never get short with kids, teens, or even adults who just want to learn or are under informed. Or even if they don’t understand some things, like how I was at first with nonbinary.


Always be patient, always be kind. Anything you say or do can impact someone forever.

Oh man, this one is a classic!

The Night We Met - Peter Parker

Originally posted by spderman

word count: 5568
warnings: swearing, super adorkable peter
a/n: this is my first posted peter fic so go easy on me?
also this is really low key based on this song, but the sound of it not the words so much if that makes sense? idk i’m at a loss


[ i am not the only traveler who has not repaid his debt / i’ve been searching for a trail to follow again / take me back to the night we met ]

The facility was quiet as you padded through it, though it was common for it to be so silent when the sun had set hours ago.  It was late, one am, you presumed.  But this was the ideal time to go wandering around the building you lived in.  It was dark, only the moon and star’s light shining into the rooms, and the living space and kitchen were surrounded by windows, which casted shadows and small pools of light on the floor that you liked to dance around on your tiptoes in.  Wearing your pajamas and silently leaping short distances and twirling around on the cool tiled or hardwood floors.

You had lived in the facility for the whole past year that it had been built and functioning, and before that you’d lived at the tower for most of your life.  All but the first three years of your life, when you were stuck in an orphanage.  Before Tony Stark adopted you.  Why had he? You were never entirely sure.  You never understood why a man with his wealth and success needed a daughter to add onto his list of priorities but you’d never thought to question him.  Besides, you liked having a Mom and Dad.  Pepper was more of the parental figure, and Tony was mostly there to… well he used to get you into trouble but since you turned fifteen a year ago he became more protective.  You weren’t his little girl anymore, you were a teenager, blossoming into womanhood.  And when you turned sixteen his overprotectiveness only increased.

It hadn’t really mattered, you weren’t really an avenger.  At least, not one out on the battlefield.  No, you preferred working in the lab with Bruce, designing new suits, lighter weapons, deadlier weapons, faster engines for the jet.  But your favorite thing was creating new costumes, as you liked to call them.  Though the rest of the team wouldn’t prefer the term.  Sure, you worried for your Dad, and the others that had just as easily become your family, but you also knew that they were a special set of people.  Trained assassins, super soldiers, even Clint was… important.

(you never missed an opportunity to tease him, much to his displeasure)

So as you twirled around gracefully in the moonlight, your eyes closed as you enjoyed the silence, not even needing a tune to dance to, and found your peace.  You loved these secret nights of yours.  Your own special thing.

[ and then I can tell myself what the hell I’m supposed to do / and then I can tell myself not to ride along with you ]

You were working today, your hair pulled up into a high ponytail and your eyes focused on the sketch in front of you.  You tried not to rock on the stood you sat at while your hand moved swiftly over the tablet, the rubber tipped stylus creating lines of maroon on the screen.

“You know,” Banner spoke, making you jump slightly, and creating a long line throughout the entire design of Wanda’s new and improved outfit.

“Thanks a lot” You rolled your eyes, carefully hitting the undo button and making Bruce roll his eyes right back at you.

“Calm down you fixed it with a push of a button”

“Did Bruce Banner just tell me to calm down?” You asked, quirking an eyebrow at him.

“y/n just- just shut up.  God when did you become a teenager?” You chuckled, going back to your sketching with a smile on your face.

“You don’t remember? Because I do.  Vividly”

“That’s only cause Tony gave you the body talk” Bruce said, and you felt a chill go down your spine at the memory.  “Anyhow, I was going to say that that new recruit is coming here today”

“New recruit?” You asked, sitting up and abandoning your art now, your curiosity peaked.  “Why wasn’t I told?”

“You designed his suit, the uh… the bug one”

“Ant Man?”

“No, the other one”

“Wasp?” You asked again, Bruce shook his head.

“No no, the one from Berlin” You squinted for a moment, trying to remember.

“Bruce, just cause my Dad’s sorta a snake sometimes doesn’t mean he’s a bug, that’s rude” You chuckled, and Banner rolled his eyes, again.

“Seriously y/n stop being all sassy what happened to your pigtails and pink overalls?”

“I grew up” You stated, wasting no time in getting back to your work.  Bruce frowned sadly at your back.  You were right, you had grown up.  And while you still may only be sixteen, the world you lived in had forced you to mature much faster than you should have.  But nonetheless, he let you get back to your work while he went back to creating a new prototype for Bucky’s arm.

“And no, it’s Spider-Man”


“Alright kid, this is a big deal now” Tony said, clapping a hand on Peter’s back as they made their way into the facility.  “Whole team lives here, my whole family” He told him.

“Wow” Was all Peter could think to say as his eyes looked around.  They landed on everything, quickly, wanting to take it all in at once.

“Okay okay, slow down, you’re one of us now, you’ve got plenty of time to make googly eyes-”

Tony was cut off mid sentence as Peter had crashed into something, sending the box in his arms and the papers in the other person’s arms flying as his victim stumbled backwards onto the floor.

“I’m sorry! I’m so so so sorr-” He stopped abruptly upon seeing you there, gathering your things as quickly as you could.  He couldn’t help his wide eyes as he watched your every movement.  Before he shook his head and began helping you pick up his papers.

“It’s fine I’m just- I’m super late” You spoke quickly, stacking your sketches in your arms messily and in a rushed fashion.  You didn’t even look up at him until he seemed to be staring at the paper in his hands.

“You-you drew this? Wow” He said in amazement, but you snatched it away.

“That’s what y/n does here” Tony said, not being able to take the awkward tension anymore and scooping up most of your papers in his hands and giving them to you.  “Geez are these all Wanda’s?” He asked you as you held what was probably a hundred designs in your arms.

“Yeah, yep, I didn’t know what exactly she was looking for she just said something new, so..” You trailed off, trying to straighten out and align all of the papers in your arms.  You shot a glance over at the boy who had picked up his box, full of typical teenage boy items.  Until you looked more curiously and could tell instantly he was  a very studious boy.  “You must be Spider-Man?”

“Parker Pete- Peter Parker.  I’m Peter Parker that-that’s me” He stammered, making you send a goody glance at your father before looking back to the boy that seemed your age.  He had adorable puppy brown eyes and the same colored curls on his head.  He was adorable, cute, it was the only thing you could think of for a moment.

“Well hello Parker Pete” You said with a small laugh as you stuck your hand out while carefully maneuvering your stack of papers.  “I’m y/n” You introduced while he shook your hand, a bit too long but you didn’t really want to pull away either.

“She’s also my daughter, and off limits, so let’s keep walking” Tony said, grabbing Peter by the shoulders and steering him away.

“Wha- she-you have- you’re his-” Peter couldn’t even get a full sentence out as Tony directed him farther away from you, leaving you to stand in the hall and watch in amusement as your father dragged the poor boy away.

“Bye Parker Pete!” You called before heading off to Wanda’s room.

You liked Peter Parker.  He was a stuttering, adorkable mess.

[ i had all and then most of you, some and now none of you / take me back to the night we met ]

You were sat at the kitchen breakfast bar, sketching away as always.  Sometimes you just liked changing your setting.  Working in the lab could get loud, or stuffy, and it was good to have a little change of scenery.  Plus, the best things happened in the kitchen.

For instance, right now, everyone was trying to arm wrestle Steve.  Which was a very amusing sight to watch.  Currently, Natasha was flexing her arms trying to prepare herself for what everyone knew would be a failure.

“What’re you working on?” You heard a familiar voice, and turned to see Peter slipping onto the high chair next to you.  You smiled at him almost instinctively.  He’d been living at the facility for a week now, and at this point you were pretty good friends.  Being the same age really did help, seeing you were both the youngest ones there.

“Hopefully a new bow for Clint” You told him, showing him your design.  “I’m hoping he won’t break this one” You added with a chuckle.  Peter stared at the paper, genuine interest on his features.  You loved that about him, even for the simple things he always admired your work like it was the coolest thing he’s ever seen.

“Neat” He said, still staring at it even as you slid it back to your part of the tabletop.  “What’s uh… what’s happening over there?” He nodded off to where Steve was dangerously close to slamming Nat’s hand on the table.  You were a little worried about the Black Widow’s well being, but even more so for the table.  It wouldn’t be the first time Steve had broken the dinner table over an arm wrestling tournament.

“Steve’s daring people to arm wrestle him” You said, watching them again, just as Natasha lost.  She groaned in frustration, shaking out her sore hand.  “He only does it when Tony’s not around to scold him for it”

“Scold him?” Peter asked curiously.

“He usually breaks stuff.  Tables, vases, bones” Peter’s eyes widened with fear, making you chuckle.

“Calm down Spider-Boy, he won’t attack you” You said, putting your hand unconsciously on his forearm.  “It’s just a little competition he likes to do to show off.  No one’s ever beat him” You shrugged.  “Kinda like how Thor tests us to lift his hammer, we all know that thing won’t budge, but we try anyways” You said.  Peter’s eyes were trained on Steve and Wanda’s current match.  You took his distracted moment to admire his features, his starry eyes, gelled but soft looking hair, thin pink lips.  You smiled at him, and only then noticed your hand resting on him.  You removed it quickly, busying yourself with your design again.

“Hey new kid!” You perked up once more when you heard Steve’s voice ring out, catching Peter’s attention.

“M-me?” Peter pointed to himself, unsure if the Captain America was talking to him or not.  You giggled to yourself quietly.

“Yeah you, you wanna try and go a round?” He asked.  Your eyes went from gleaming to wide with worry in a matter of seconds.

“Peter you don’t have-”

“Yeah sure” Peter shrugged before you could give him a way out of it.  You watched as he hopped to the ground and walked over to the opposite side of the table as Steve.  All of your focus was on the two.  Sure, Steve would never heart him on purpose but Peter wasn’t like the other avengers, he was sixteen, and you were worried he’d get his arm broken or something.  You stared as their hands latched together, neither of them doing anything yet.  “Look, I-I just wanna say sorry about like- attacking you at that airport” Peter said, and you blushed slightly at his cute awkwardness.  Apologizing for the fight, no one had really done that yet.  Most of you just tried to look past it.

“Yeah, no hard feelings” Steve winked, and like that, you could see their arms struggling slightly as they put all their strength into it.  Your lips parted slightly when you realized Peter wasn’t losing.  He was actually doing really well, completely focused on Steve’s arm.  “Wow kid, you got quite a grip” Steve commented, and you could hear the struggle in his voice.

Well that was new.

“But hey, I’m still the strongest one here” Steve said, slamming the kid’s hand down onto the table.  Peter sighed, shaking his hand just as Nat had earlier.  You clapped while the others began to leave the room, tired of Steve’s party games.

“Wow! Parker Pete!” You rushed over to him and hugged him before thinking about it.  “Just- wow” You laughed, and Peter gave a short laugh with you, rubbing his now aching hand.  “No one’s ever done that before! Just how strong are you?” You asked him, and his face went red.

“I-I don’t know” He stammered out, and you hugged him again.  You felt him slowly wrap his arms around your waist, tugging you a little closer as he held you.  It was quiet for a moment, and your heart began fluttering as you lingered there together.  Somehow, it wasn’t just a hug, and you could both feel it.

“Hey hey hey, watch the hands there” You sighed quietly when Tony came in, pointing accusingly at the both of you, and you pulled away from Peter.  “Break it up” He said, snapping his fingers as he went to the fridge for a bottle of beer.

“Peter almost beat Steve at arm wrestling” You bragged, trying to ease up your father’s current mood.

“God dammit I told him no more of those” He grumbled, heading back out of the kitchen, the popped his head back in.  “Break it up!” He called loudly again.  “Both of you! Separate rooms pronto!” You rolled your eyes as he left, but squeezed a hand on Peter’s wrist before gathering your materials from the counter.

“Night Parker Pete” You said sweetly, then headed out the door and towards the elevator.  Peter slumped onto one of the chairs, staring at the doorway you just exited.

“Goodnight y/n” He said to himself.

“You like her?” He heard an accented voice and turned to see Wanda standing there.  The boy’s heart nearly leapt out of his chest, he hadn’t even realized there was another way into this room.  “Yes?” She questioned after not having received an answer.

“Yea-yeah I mean yeah y/n.. y/n’s great she’s a great-amazing friend” He said, all the while nodding his head and blushing like a fool.  Wanda chuckled, using her powers to snatch an orange off the counter, but opted to use her nails to peel it.

“I can read minds” She told him.  “I know you like her” She told him, winking a brown eye.  Peter opened his mouth but no words came out for a few moments.

“I… she’s great” He told her, unsure of what he could say.

“You also think she’s beautiful” Wanda continued, putting a slide of the fruit into her mouth.

“Well I-”

“Are we discussing Peter Parker’s feelings towards miss Stark?”

Peter fell of his chair, definitely not having expected Vision to simply face through the wall of the kitchen, joining the conversation abruptly.  Wanda nodded as she chewed, and Peter attempted to stand and straighten out his sweater.

“Well I think it’s… pleasing” Vision said.

“Pl-pleasing?” Peter stuttered.

“Yes, it is nice to think of you becoming romantically involved with miss Stark” He said with a nod of his head.  Peter’s eyes widened with fear.

“No, no no no no, y/n and I-I we- we aren’t- she’s my friend”

“Yes, and Wanda is my friend” Vision said, and the witch’s head snapped towards him.  “But that is no barrier to love”

Peter almost fell just from standing up.  He could feel his knees wobbling and his heart was pounding incredibly fast in his chest.

“Vizh…” Wanda said slowly, coming over and putting a hand on the android’s arm.  “Let’s go talk” She said, and he nodded again, allowing her to guide him out of the room.  “But if you want my advice,” Wanda turned to Peter before she could fully leave the kitchen.  “Go for it, y/n looks at you a lot, the way… the way I remember Pietro looking at his love” Wanda said.  Peter couldn’t even find the right words to say before she left the room.

Shortly after, he went running out, making his way as quickly as he could to the weight room.  It was nearing ten o’clock, but he needed a stress relief, and working out seemed much better than sitting in his room with his anxiety all pent up.

He practically burst through the doors, not even noting Steve dragging a punching bag to it’s hook as he tore his sweater off, leaving him in a tee shirt and khakis.  Not really the best chosen attire to work out in, but he didn’t care.  He needed to… to run, to punch something.  He stepped up onto the treadmill, setting it on a higher setting before just sprinting.  Racing over the spinning rubber sheet until sweat dripped down his forehead.

“Kid? Hey Parker?” Steve called, catching Peter’s attention but he didn’t stop running.  “You aren’t stress running cause I kicked your ass earlier right?” He asked, and Peter shook his head, his breathing ragged as he put the treadmill on a higher setting.  “Alright, then why are you stress running?”

“I’m not stress running” Peter grunted.

“Yes you are.  Why?” Steve said, his voice stern so that he’d open up to him.  Peter let out a sigh, but was still reluctant to stop running.

“Because” He huffed.  “I’m in love… with y/n… and she’s Tony’s daughter… and doesn’t like me back… deserves better than me anyways” He said in between sharp intakes of breath.  Steve chuckled, putting his hands on his hips.

“Alright, alright turn that off you’re gonna kill yourself” He said, and Peter didn’t even argue, just slowed it down before stopping it completely.  “Listen closely to me, alright?” Peter nodded shakily, and stepped down off the treadmill.

He walked over to Steve, and they sat down together on a bench.

“I’m going to tell you a story about a woman named Peggy Carter”

[ i don’t know what I’m supposed to do, haunted by the ghost of you / oh, take me back to the night we met ]

You had just slipped out of your room, checking to make sure the halls were clear as you walked as lightly as possible down the hallway towards the kitchen.  You hadn’t changed into pajamas like usual, still wearing your simple white dress from earlier that night.  But you didn’t mind, you were just happy to finally be able to sneak out.  Earlier than you usually do, it was midnight and you often waited for one am to roll around but you were too eager to escape to your happy place.

After tiptoeing down the stairs, opting not to use the elevator because it made noise, you snuck into the kitchen, quickly and carefully closing the door behind you.  Even though it and the walls secluding it were glass windows.  You were a creature of habit.

“What’re you doing here?” You spun around, about to kick the owner of the sudden voice in the throat, but be caught your ankle.

“Peter?” You lowered your leg, smoothing out your skirt.  “What’re you doing? It’s late” He gave you a look before laughing.

“Well I can basically say the same thing” He said, and you blushed, looking down for a moment.

“I… I come here at night when everyone’s asleep.  It’s my way of sneaking out” You said with half a shrug.  “It was a secret until now” Peter’s face fell, and he could feel his stomach dropped.

Oh my god I ruined her special place for her

“No worries” You said with a soft smile.  “I’m happy you’re the first I can share it with” You told him, and began to walk off to the living area, in front of all the windows.  Peter scurried off after you, walking awkwardly with his hands behind his back as you were staring outside.  He looked over at you, awestruck by the way the moonlight reflected on your features, making parts of your dress look like it was glowing, but others hidden in a shadow.  “So Parker Pete,” You said with a smile as you turned your head to look at him.  “What’re you doing out here so late?”

“I- I was just… sitting” He answered lamely, making you chuckle and roll your eyes a little.

“Okay, but why sit in the kitchen in the middle of the night? Don’t you want your rest?”

“M-my rest?” You shrugged.

“I don’t know.  Everyone around here falls asleep so early when my Dad’s not throwing some big party” You told him.

“Does he have parties a lot?” You crinkled your nose and bopped your head side to side as if to say so so.  

“Not as much as he used to.  Now it’s just the small group of us, playing music, eating lots of food, dancing, it’s nice.  A good reason to dress up and have fun but kick back from the stress” You told him.  “I guess I like it better than they used to be.  Loud, lots of drunks.  I remember hiding in my room inside my closet until my mom would come kiss me goodnight and tell me he was shooing people out” You chuckled a little, leaning closer to the window and tapping your fingers lightly against the glass to a made up beat.

“As a rebellious teen, do you want more parties?” Peter asked, mocking a reporter’s voice and making you laugh, shooting him a quick glance.

“I wouldn’t call myself rebellious, but that doesn’t mean I’m a total rule follower” You said.  “For the daughter of Tony Stark, I think that says a lot about my adoption” You said jokingly.

“I didn’t know that” He said, stepping closer to you.  He wanted to look out the window, enjoy the view as you were, but he couldn’t tear his eyes off of you.

“Yeah you can’t really tell unless you look close enough.  We’re really close” Peter smiled gently.

“That’s good” You nodded.

“Yeah… to me he really is my Dad, I don’t go out of my way to use the term ‘adopted’ it doesn’t bother me by any means, he’s just more to me than that.  Pepper too, but she’s the busy one nowadays” You told him.  “Anyways, that’s my life story you wanna share now?”

“Uh, it’s sorta messy” He said, awkwardly rubbing the back of his head.  You shook your head, brushing it off.

“I don’t mind.  I’d like to hear it Parker Pete” He chuckled, and licked his lips while he thought of what to say.

“Well, uhm, my parents were killed” He said, clearing his throat.  “In a hijacked plane crash when I was seven… and uh… I’ve been living with my Aunt May and Uncle Ben since then” He told you, avoiding your eyes.  “And not long after I.. well became Spider-Man uh…”

You noticed the way he was kicking his feet into the carpet, a nervous habit, and your heart began to sink as sadness washed over your features.

“My-my Uncle he- he got shot because of me” Your eyes widened and you moved closer to him, your back to the window now and completely abandoning the view you loved as you stared up at Peter with crinkled brows and big wet eyes.  Your hand reached out to grab his without a second thought.

“I’m sure it wasn’t your fault Peter” You whispered, but he shook his head.

“No, no if I’d just been honest with him and had been back to him on time like I said I would he- I would’ve-” You placed your other hand against his cheek, turning his head up to look at you.

“It wasn’t your fault, Pete” You told him softly, keeping your voice steady.  “And I promise if he could see you now, he’d be so incredibly proud of you and all you’ve done” You saw his lips quirk up for a short moment, and you smiled at him.  “I’ve known you for all of a week and I am” You said, and his heart surely stopped in his chest, only to speed up again.

“Thanks, y/n” He said, and you nodded, dropping your hand from his face but kept your hands latched at your side.  “He would’ve liked you” He told you, and for some reason it made your cheeks heat up in a pink blush.

“Really?” Peter smiled as he nodded.

“Yeah, you’d remind him of May I’m sure” A giggle slipped past your lips before you could stop it.  Why did this make you all bubbly?

“Am I like her?” You asked, and Peter pursed his lips.

“You’ve got the same attitude but secret softie thing going on” You quirked up an eyebrow.

“I’m not a softie, I used to be out on that battlefield you know” You told him, crossing your arms over your chest as you’d released his hand.

“Really?” Peter asked, narrowing his eyes and smirking playfully.  “Because you were all worried earlier when I was going to arm wrestle Captain America” You jaw dropped open at him.

“Oh really? Say that to my excellent combat skills” You said with a wink.

“Excellent combat skills?” He asked, and you nodded.

“Uh huh, only reason I’m not out there is cause someone’s gotta make your spandex onesie” Peter looked at you with an offended expression.

“It’s not-!” He groaned, throwing his arms down at his sides.  You let out a laugh and shook your head.

“I don’t know… I mean, I designed it I think I know a onesie when I make one” You told him.  Peter opened his mouth and closed it a few times, and you began to laugh again, your smile bright and your eyes twinkling with delight.  Peter couldn’t even keep up his facade of a straight face.  “Alright, alright, what else? What do I and May Parker have in common?”

“I don’t know, uh, she used to dance with him all the time, when I was little they’d dance around to his old record player” You smiled at him, and bounced a little on your bare feet.  “What? What?” Peter asked as you just kept laughing and bouncing.

“Come on come on” You tugged on his hands, pulling him closer eagerly, and planting his palms on your waist.

“You want to dance with me?” He asked like he didn’t even believe it.  But you nodded, your grin still present as you crossed your wrists behind his neck.

“Yeah” You said, beginning to bite back your smile.

“I-I don’t have my phone so I don’t have any like-like music or anything” You shrugged your shoulders and noted how he panicked a little.

“It’s fine, we don’t really need it” You told him, and you gave him a comforting smile.  “Calm down Peter, it’s just me” You said.

How ironic, he thought.

“Why’s it ironic?” You asked, and Peter’s eyes filled with fear at the realization that he’d said it out loud.  He didn’t say anything at first, his brain still turning and his heart beating impossibly faster than it already was.  You could tell that he was nervous, so you rested your forehead on his chest so that he didn’t have to look at you.  “Peter?” You called when you didn’t hear any answer from him.

“Sorry I-I didn’t know what to say you uh y-you make me nervous” You pulled away, looking up at him with surprised eyes and raised brows.

“I do?” You asked, taken aback by the confession.  Peter nodded, looking from his feet to you and partially wishing that he could drop dead right this moment.

But then you smiled at him, an airy laugh coming from your lips.

“You make me nervous sometimes too Parker Pete” You told him, and a small smile pulled on his mouth, his face red.

“R-really I-I-I do?” He stuttered, and you nodded.  Peter let out a small chuckle, looking down again before back up to you.  You nodded again, your bottom lip tucked slightly between your teeth.  He let out a small laugh, really just a puff of air.

“Why do I? I’m not mean to you am I?” You asked, chuckling quietly and he did too, shaking his head.

“No, no not at all you’re-you’re nice, very nice- to me! To me anyways I’ve seen you have at it with Clint” You laughed again.

“We don’t fight it’s just banter” You told him, shaking your head dismissively and wringing your hands behind his neck.  “Well?” You said softly, still waiting for his answer.

“Well.. uh… well you see you’re very good at what you do- v-very talented” He started anxiously, and the swaying that has been your dancing, halted.  “And-and I think you’re really beautiful” Your cheeks flushed red as you bit back a grin.

“Really?”

“Y-yeah well yeah” Peter said simply.  “And you’re- you’re a genius I mean you’ve got this capability to work with Dr Banner, and you’re my age I-I’d say that’s pretty neat” You let out a soft giggle, your eyes wide with adoration for this boy in front of you.  “Truth is y/n I… I like you, a lot, as-as more than a friend” Your heart stopped in your chest.

“I like you too Peter Parker” You whispered out softly.  I smile quirked on his lips, that turned into a grin within seconds.  You caught his eyes flicker down to your lips, and you licked over them subconsciously.  Your hands slid to his shoulders, resting at the base of his neck and you stepped ever so slightly closer.  His eyes kept looking from you to your lips, over and over and it made you chuckle.  “Well are you gonna kiss me or not?” You mumbled, your stomach flipping over repeatedly.

“Not! He is most definitely not!” You sprung away from Peter, your back and head hitting the window.  “Parker what the hell do you think you’re doing!?” Peter spun around to see your Dad standing there, his arms crossed angrily.

“I-I uh I-”

“y/n, go to your room it’s time for bed” He said, his tone frustrated.

“Dad I’m not six you can’t send me-”

“Bed” He gritted and you stood a little straighter.  You nodded your head, and looked to Peter quickly, waving a short and quick goodbye and rushing out of the room.

[ when you had not touched me yet / oh, take me back to the night we met ]

Peter was pacing in the hallways, contemplating whether or not he should go  back to his own quarters, like Mr Stark had so… kindly… told him to.  Or if he should knock on your door.

He liked you, that part was obvious now.  He liked you so much it hurt to not be with you.  If he’d known what love felt like, he could almost say he was in love with you.  He could sit down and talk to you all day about anything, he could go to sleep at night wishing he’d had just five more minutes.

Maybe if you weren’t Tony’s daughter, maybe if the entire team of Avengers weren’t standing guard over you, like they were all your protective older brothers, he would’ve told you sooner.  Maybe.  Peter Parker was never one for having confidence, in fact, before the suit, he was the shy nerdy kid that no one really knew the name of.  He wasn’t popular, or very out going by any means, but ever since Spider-Man, he had a higher self esteem, pushed himself more.

And he really, really liked you.

So, he knocked.

[ Take me back to the night we met ]

“Peter?” You said quietly as you opened your door.  You had changed into a tee shirt and sleep shorts for bed, your hair hanging down in loose waves hanging over your shoulders.  You wrapped your arms over your chest, trying to preserve the warmth you’d lost when you got out of bed.  “Hey what’re you doing he-” You were cut off when his hands flew out, cupping your cheeks and pulling your lips against his.  While at first you were surprised, you sunk into it instantly and wrapped your arms around his neck, completely melting against him.

When he pulled away you were a smiling blushing mess and all you could hear was your heart pounding in your chest.

“I’m sorry”

“Why?” You chuckled.  “I mean, I’m not apologizing” You said again, and he smiled back at you.

“I just- might not get the chance to do that again” He said, and you nodded, biting down on your lips slightly.  “So-so I had to… just once” You nodded.

“Yeah I… I’m glad you did” You said softly.  He hugged you before saying goodnight.

You would both be okay.


idk the ending makes me feel eh :/
it’s been a long couple of days so i’m sorry about this
but this is for @high-functioning-fangirl02 bc of our love for parker pete

(update: the link for the dress didn’t work so here it is)

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.

Title: Curiosity Killed the Cat; Satisfaction Brought Him Back
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Virgil had a notebook.  A kind of worn out, once black notebook with purple pen scratches all across the front.  The others rarely got to see this notebook, but they were well aware of its existence. For the most part, no one dared to ask what it was for or if they could see it.  No one, not even Patton, was curious enough to risk the little bit of trust and confidence building between them and the anxious side.  

That is…until Virgil got more confident and trusted them more.

The notebook made its way out of his room more and more, finding its way onto the coffee table, dining table, the counters, and the sofa much more often.  Every now and then one of them would catch Virgil with his knees to his chest scribbling away in the book, and just seeing it drove them crazy.

To say that Logan wasn’t dying to know what was in the book would have been the biggest lie ever told in the mind palace.  As the logical side, he was also the side that enjoyed learning the most.  Learning, observing…dying of curiosity.  Secrets were not his thing.  They were not his “jam.”  What was his “jam” was figuring out why Virgil hid the notebook when he was using it.

And now, he had an opportunity.

“Be right back,” Virgil mumbled.  The anxious side hopped up from his spot on the other end of the sofa and dragged his notebook into his spot.  Logan watched him leave and round the corner to his room, and it didn’t take long for all of that curiosity to come rushing to the forefront of his mind.

What could be in this mysterious notebook?  Drawings?  Logan thought of all the possibilities for Virgil Drawings.  From a Tim Burton-esque style all the way down to an Invader Zim style. Mainly monsters or gore…or possibly he’d be full of surprises and fill the notebook with drawings that calmed him? Kittens, puppies, maybe a few koalas or red pandas?  Or maybe he was a classic early 2000s emo child and filled his notebook with stitched-up, bandaged-up, and bleeding hearts?  

Perhaps the notebook contained his thoughts.  What a trip that would be.  Thoughts and analyses of ever scenario Thomas encountered.  It’d probably be a mish-mash and assorted lists of words indecipherable to anyone but Virgil.

But then…Virgil had said before that he wrote.  Sonnets, at least.  Could this notebook be his writings…?

Logan caught his hand gravitating toward the book, and he snatched the offending digits back against his chest.  No, he couldn’t.  He would not be the first to break.  Virgil would share the contents of the book when he felt he was ready, and Logan would just have to respect that.  

…But he wouldn’t even know if Logan took a quick peak just to see what Virgil used the notebook for…

…But that would still be abusing Virgil’s trust.  He left the book there out of trust.  

But-!

“I’m back,” Virgil announced, throwing himself down on top of the book.  He pulled it back out from underneath himself and opened it up to wherever he’d left off. “Needed a different blue.”

Ah.  Drawings. Had to be.

…Right?

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