#For most of his life anyone attracted to Scott got to know him and was at some point like “oh no this is a weird weird guy”

[goodluckclove]

It must've been really hard for Ollie to have had just the biggest crush on Scott when they were younger. She had to perform with him onstage while he exuded insane amounts of raw sexual energy and deal with that while also being painfully aware that this was a man who:

Was only turned on by playing the piano and eating a really good apple

Got too scared to watch any of the Jurassic Park movies because despite being nearly a legal adult he still doesn't fully grasp CGI as a concept

[littlexdeaths]

scotty doesn’t know - e.m.

eddie munson x fem reader

18+ ONLY MDNI

warnings: no use of y/n, cheating, protected piv sex, light degradation kink, spanking, phone sex kinda?, shitty boyfriend behavior, mentions of alcohol/partying, some angst, all characters are 18+!

series masterlist

based on scotty doesn’t know by lustra

a/n: i’ve worked so hard to spruce up this series and i’m so excited to be reposting it for you all. be on the lookout for the next two parts. this fic is my actual baby, and it means so much to me. i hope you all enjoy xx.

word count: 4.3k

It had started out as mostly a joke, a proposition that he never imagined you’d actually take him up on.

You always thought Eddie Munson, the town ‘freak’ was incredibly attractive, not that you’d ever voice that opinion to anyone. Mostly due to the fact that you had a boyfriend, who in the eyes of everyone in Hawkins— was the definition of perfect.

Scott McGuire was a great boyfriend… on the surface.

He was a star basketball player, friends with the most popular people in school. His family was loaded, despite being from a small town like Hawkins. He drove a Mercedes, and made you feel so special. When he had asked you out halfway through your junior year, you were over the moon.

And in the beginning of your relationship, you were beyond smitten with him. But after a year of dating him, you’d come to realize he was nothing you had wanted.

Scott was arrogant, vain and downright cruel. His biggest flaw being that he took absolute pleasure in causing pain to others. The main target of his rage was Eddie and his band of ‘freaks’. His best friend Jason was right by his side, constantly tormenting the group. But always Eddie more so than anyone else. You never enjoyed it, always finding a way to escape the moment an insult (or a punch) was thrown his way.

Despite all of this, you felt pressured to stay with him.

Your parents absolutely adored him and so did your friends. Most of which were the girlfriends of his friends. Your lives had become so interwoven you felt trapped. So to appease everyone else in your life, you continued the relationship. Even though you knew you didn’t love him.

In your eyes he was, all around, the worst boyfriend you could have landed… especially when it came to sex.

Scott was terrible in bed.

He only wanted you on his terms, only caring about his wants and needs. And in the year you’d been with him, he’d never made you come. Not once. At first you thought something was wrong with you, that you were broken.

But the more you talked with your friends on the cheer squad, the quicker you began to realize it was a Scott problem. Not a you problem. So you started faking it, your little act becoming so good that you even deluded yourself into believing it sometimes.

But that was how you got yourself into this predicament in the first place.

You were at a party at Chrissy’s, a celebration for the basketball team making it to the state championship. Initially you wanted to stay home, as parties were never something you enjoyed. But you knew how bad it would look if you didn’t show. So you went, swallowing your pride with a fake smile plastered across your face.

You let yourself fall into the role of the proud, doting girlfriend. You knew how to play it well, as it was second nature to you at this point.

At some point during the night Scott had pulled you into a random bedroom, with the promises of rocking your world. Those promises fell short, as they always did. Scott had you propped up on the unmade bed, gripping your hips as he pounded sloppily into you. The fake moans that left your lips somehow had convinced you both that you were enjoying yourself.

That is until the door swung open and a semi-tipsy Eddie Munson stumbled upon the scene. He was originally looking for the bathroom, much to the embarrassment of you both. You couldn’t hide the shame that flitted across your features, or stop your moans from faltering slightly.

Scott miraculously didn’t notice the intrusion as he continued to thrust into you, your fake moans continuing to fill the small bedroom. Your eyes were locked with Eddie’s as he stood frozen in the doorway. The two of you just stared at each other for a few moments, before he snapped out of whatever stupor he was in and quickly left the room.

You figured nothing would come from it, except for a new found embarrassment every time you saw him in class. But what you didn’t expect was for him to seek you out in study hall that following Monday.

You were in the library, searching for a new book to read when he cornered you. His curls were wild, that faded Hellfire shirt hugged his broad shoulders nicely. A playful smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as you tried not to stare. But those brown eyes seemed to look right through you.

“You know, I’ve seen better acting in pornos.” He spoke softly, as not to embarrass either of you.

Or to alert Ms. Hall, the school librarian.

She was such a hard ass, especially when it came to talking in the library. You had hoped that maybe Eddie would’ve been too drunk to remember what happened at the party. Or both of you would ignore the situation.

But that clearly wasn’t the case. You can feel the embarrassment coursing through you as you actively avoided his curious gaze.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Munson,” you sneer before turning on your heel, grabbing a random book off the shelf in the process.

You clutch the paperback closer to your chest as you quickly try to escape the conversation.

He doesn’t let you get very far though, trailing behind you before taking a seat next to you at one of the study tables.

“I mean it must be frustrating, faking it all the time,” he continues nonchalantly, resting a ringed hand next to yours on the table.

His fingertips drum against the faux wood, as you struggle to think of a reply. But your continued silence and flustered appearance spoke volumes as you began to fiddle with the frayed hem of your dress.

Eddie leans in closer, letting his breath fan across your face. The smell of his spicy cologne and a hint of smoke engulfs your senses, making your head spin.

He hums softly, keeping his voice low, “Just doesn’t seem fair. Any decent guy would make sure you were being treated well.”

You could feel his body heat due to the close proximity, biting your lip as you stopped yourself from leaning against him.

“He does treat me well,” you whisper back, glancing down at the book as you begin flipping through the pages.

Eddie scoffs at the notion as his hand reaches out to close the cover again. His fingertips brush against yours in the process, the small touch sending tingles down your spine.

The male glances around the mostly empty library before he leans in closer. His lips nearly graze the shell of your ear as you hold your breath in anticipation. Eddie chuckles deeply, enjoying just how flustered he’s made you.

“Well, if you want to know what it’s like to be properly taken care of…” he trails off, as you let out a shaky breath. “You know where to find me, sweetheart.”

The promise behind his words instantly makes your thighs clench together. Watching in stunned silence as he quickly gets up and strolls out of the library.

Those words sat with you for days, taunting you.

Finding yourself utterly frustrated, in more ways than one. You just couldn’t shake how badly you wanted to take him up on that offer. Morally, you knew it was wrong— you had a boyfriend.

But there was something that felt so right about it.

Despite your initial reservations, you very quickly found yourself in the back of Eddie’s van. Your legs were flung over his shoulders, your fingers tangled in his curls as his tongue had you seeing stars. It became blatantly obvious from your first time together that there was no way this could be a one time thing.

So you compromised, agreeing to meet up once a week. But only on Sundays, when you could give Scott the excuse of going to church with your parents. Ironically your family was not the church going type, but your boyfriend never questioned it.

However the longer you snuck around with Eddie, the more insatiable you became. Until it was almost a daily occurrence that you were under him, begging him to show you everything you were missing out on. It had surprised the both of you, but Eddie was more than happy to oblige.

But the constant sneaking around meant you couldn’t exclusively fuck in the back of his van anymore. Causing the both of you to become more creative in the process.

More than once you’d pull him under the bleachers in the gym once basketball practice ended. His ringed fingers tangled in your hair as you dropped to your knees. Or he’d bend you over the table in the drama room after a Hellfire campaign, dice and crushed cans of Mountain Dew falling off the table with each thrust of his hips.

But it still wasn’t enough, which led you to take more drastic measures.

You were on all fours, fingers clutching your floral bed sheets as Eddie pounded into you from behind.

Your parents were gone for the weekend to celebrate their wedding anniversary. Which left you with the house all to yourself, something that didn’t happen often. So this was an opportunity you didn’t want to pass up. Dialing his number before you even got out of bed that morning.

Regardless of his not so stellar reputation, it didn’t seem to sway a lot of women in Hawkins. And despite what Scott might have told you, Eddie has had plenty of sexual partners before. As many jumped at the chance to see if the rumors about the local freak were true. Which only seemed to fuel more rumors about the metalhead.

But out of everyone he had ever slept with— you were by far the neediest of them all.

Eddie couldn’t deny that he loved it. Knowing he was the only one who could turn you into a crying, blubbering mess. Not even seemingly perfect Scotty McGuire could make you feel this way. He would pay to see the look on his face if he could see just how wrecked you were.

Tears of pleasure streaming down your cheeks as you begged the town freak to fuck you harder.

“Look at you, such a needy little slut,” he chuckles, condensation lacing his tone. “Couldn’t even wait a whole day for my cock, huh?”

Eddie was by far the biggest guy you’ve ever had, and he certainly knew how to use it. His cock reached places inside you that you didn’t know existed until now. So it was no surprise that you didn’t want to wait another day to see him again.

But deep down you knew that wasn’t the only reason you had called him over. However, you weren’t entirely ready to have that conversation with yourself yet.

“I… shit,” you mewl, finding yourself at a loss for words as he increased his pace.

Pathetic whines spill past your lips with each thrust of his hips, your walls gripping him tightly. Pleasure coursed through you as he brought you closer and closer to the edge. A mixture of your arousal and his spit was smeared across your thighs. A reminder of where he’d been slotted between them earlier.

“Aww, come on, sweetheart,” he teases, nipping at your ear as he slows to a more gradual pace. “Be a good girl and tell me who’s making you feel so good.”

The orgasm that had been building in your abdomen suddenly fizzles out as he stills his hips at your deepest point. You nearly cry out in defeat as he lands a harsh slap on your ass.

You knew the rules by now, he needed to hear you.

“Y-You… fuck you are, Eddie.” He hummed in response, guiding your hips forward.

“That’a girl.”

The drag of his cock has you whining, the sound quickly being drowned out by the phone on your bedside table. You fully intended to ignore the shrill ringing as you began grinding your ass back against him. But he grips your hips to stop any further movement.

“Answer it.”

Your eyes widen as you glance over your shoulder at him, bewilderment crossing your features. There’s a smirk playing on his lips as he lands another slap on your ass, “That wasn’t a suggestion, sweetheart.”

You quickly fumble for the phone, not wanting this to end so soon. You’d come to realize just how much Eddie enjoyed teasing you the more you slept together. But you’d had enough teasing for one day.

So you place the receiver against your ear, trying to calm your erratic breathing, “H-Hello?”

You mentally curse yourself for the way your voice shakes, feeling your stomach drop at the voice on the other end of the line.

“You alright, babe? You sound winded,” you can hear the slightest bit of suggestiveness in his tone, having to stop yourself from rolling your eyes.

This was something you’d come to expect from Scott, the male always finding a way to bring sex into every conversation. Despite knowing he was actually spot on this time, only it wasn’t your fingers that were buried inside you.

But what you didn’t anticipate was for Eddie to start thrusting back into you at a leisurely pace. You bite down onto your lower lip for a moment before you laugh, the sound not at all genuine. But Scott couldn’t tell the difference, he never paid enough attention.

“I’m great, Scott.” Your breath hitches in your throat as Eddie’s lips graze over your shoulder, “J-Just in the middle of a… workout.”

You hear Eddie laugh softly behind you, the male on the other end blissfully unaware of the kind of workout you were currently engaged in. Despite your initial reservations about answering the phone, you couldn’t deny the rush it gave you. Almost wanting to be caught like this.

“You still swinging by the party tonight?” Scott asks, as you continue to pulse around Eddie’s thick shaft.

His thrusts deepen, slipping a hand between your thighs to rub your sensitive clit. Your thoughts are completely jumbled as you try to stay engaged with the conversation. But it’s proving to be difficult.

“P-Party?” You breathe out, gripping the receiver tighter in your palm.

You can hear your boyfriend’s annoyed sigh, knowing he was rolling his eyes as your own rolled into the back of your head. Eddie grunts softly in your other ear as he rams into your sweet spot. It took every bit of your remaining self restraint to not moan directly into the phone.

“It’s Tommy’s birthday. I told you about it last week,” he huffs, clearly no longer amused.

You vaguely recall the conversation, but lately you’d found yourself tuning him out more and more. Having much more important things to occupy your attention.

“Right! No, I remember now.” Your words come out whinier than you intended, but Scott doesn’t seem to notice.

You were getting close, and Eddie knew it too.

“So? Are you coming?”

Eddie stifles another laugh at the unintended joke.

He quickly wraps his ringed fingers around the base of your throat and lifts you, so your back is now flush against his sweaty chest. The new angle allows him to slip even deeper inside, causing a gasp to escape you. You quickly disguise it as a cough, before answering your boyfriend.

“Yeah, I’ll be there. Listen, I-I gotta go. See you tonight.”

You hang up the phone before he even has a chance to respond. The loud moan that was trapped in your throat is finally set free, earning a groan from the male behind you.

Eddie’s disheveled curls began tickling your face as he leaned toward your ear again, “Bet he didn’t suspect a damn thing, huh?”

You can hear the smugness in his tone, whimpering as he puts more pressure on your clit.

“Cause he can’t make you feel the way I do. Can he, sweetheart?” You frantically nod your head before letting it fall back onto his shoulder.

You know you can’t hold out for much longer, and judging by the way his cock twitches inside you— Eddie won’t either.

His lips attach themselves to the curve of your neck, sucking harshly as you tremble in his arms.

“Ed… f-fuck I’m gonna—” you are unable to finish your thought as that familiar wave of euphoria crashes over you.

He nearly growls as you cry out his name again and again, the sound being his undoing. He spills into the condom with a grunt of your name, his chest heaving as he buries himself at your deepest point. The sounds of his erratic breathing mixes with yours, filling the now quiet space of your bedroom. Feeling utterly weak in the best way possible.

And if his arms weren’t securely wrapped around your waist, you would’ve collapsed face first into the mattress.

You stay entangled like that for a few moments while you both come down from your highs. Enjoying the way his lips press against the curve of your shoulder.

Eddie’s actions are gentle now, carefully guiding your hips up to slip out of you. He coaxes you to lay on your back, a lazy smile playing on your lips as you gazed up at him. As amazing as the sex was, what came after was just as enjoyable.

Emotionally, your boyfriend was always unavailable.

Especially after a round in the sheets, he was particularly cold. In the year you’d been together Scott had never once held you or comforted you. It always left you with an overwhelming sense of shame— of feeling used.

So naturally you had expected the same kind of treatment from Eddie, as you had never experienced aftercare before. After that first time together you had begun to put your clothes back on, attempting to leave right away.

But he stopped you with a soft, “Don’t go.”

It didn’t take much convincing as you laid your head on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart. He kept you tucked in his embrace for hours, fingertips dancing along your hip. From that moment on it was the same treatment. His affection only increased the more you fooled around.

Your eyes follow him as he rises from the bed to toss the condom in your trash bin. Giving Eddie the opportunity to finally take a look around your room.

You suddenly felt nervous as he made his way over to your record collection, flicking through the vinyls with the utmost care. While your popularity status had recently changed due to dating Scott, you always felt out of place amongst them. You could never be your full authentic self, in fear of rejection from your peers.

Eddie seemed to find a record that he liked, sliding it out of its sleeve and placing it on the turntable. It is quiet for a moment, the crackle of the record is almost comforting. Soon the beginning notes of the Labyrinth soundtrack fill that silence. You instantly feel shy, not expecting him to choose that album in particular.

Your boyfriend had teased you relentlessly for your love of David Bowie, always complaining about how weird he was. It made you feel ashamed to talk about any of your interests, most of which you’d hidden away in fear of being mocked.

But with that small act Eddie had proved, once again, that he was superior to Scott in every way imaginable.

He begins to hum along to the opening track, grabbing his boxers from the pile of your discarded clothes on the floor. Sliding the checkered material back over his legs, the fabric hanging low on his hips. You bite your lip as your eyes drift over his pale skin, zeroing in on the patch of hair that descended into his waistband.

“Keep giving me those eyes and we’re gonna have a problem, princess.” He teases, his smirk widening as he catches you ogling him.

You feel your body flush as he shoots you a playful wink before slipping into your adjoined bathroom. You hear the tap turn on, the rush of water mingling with the sultry baritone of Bowie’s vocals. You allow your body to relax against the mattress, a sense of calm washing over you.

Eddie wasn’t gone for long, emerging from the bathroom with a glass of water and a damp washcloth. He sets the glass on your nightstand, taking a seat on the edge of your bed. The male carefully parts your legs, pressing a kiss to your knee as he cleans up the mess of salvia and slick that has dried onto your thighs.

You let your eyes linger on his face, watching him in complete admiration. His cheeks are tinged pink, no doubt from the weight of your gaze. He’s also not used to being regarded with such gentleness.

Eddie sheepishly avoids your eyes as he stands, tossing the used cloth into your hamper. You scoot into a sitting position to take a few sips of water from the glass. Blatantly checking him out as he bends over to grab another piece of clothing from your carpeted floor.

“Arms up,” he instructs, allowing him to pull your oversized shirt over your head.

He quickly joins you again, causing a small giggle to escape you as he squeezes himself onto your twin sized mattress. The male grins, allowing you to drape your body over his. You tangle your limbs together, instinctively resting your head on his chest.

Your eyes flutter shut as you listen to the steady beat of his heart in your ear. A soft smile tugs at the corners of your mouth, feeling him press a kiss to the top of your head.

In moments like this, it was easy for you to pretend that Eddie Munson was all yours.

There were no worries about being caught, or what anyone in this god forsaken town had to say about it. But the more time you spent with him, the more you began to realize that you wanted him all to yourself.

You knew it was incredibly selfish, he didn’t deserve to be someone’s secret side piece. So you kept these newly emerging feelings to yourself.

“You feeling okay?” His voice cuts through your thoughts, lifting your head to meet his gaze. “I wasn’t too rough or anything, was I?”

Eddie’s tone was vastly different from how he’d spoken to you earlier, and yet it only made your adoration for him grow. Knowing he truly cared about your feelings, it wasn’t just a courtesy.

His hand gently caresses your sore ass, his fingertips continuing to ghost over the curve of your spine. The tenderness of his actions made you shiver as you nuzzled your face back into his chest.

“It was perfect.” You hum, voice echoing your contentment, “You were perfect.”

Gentle, rough or anything in between— you’d be grateful as long as it was with him.

You were sure he could feel the warmth that had begun to seep into your cheeks at your admission. Reaching out his hand to delicately grasp your chin, tilting your head up to meet his curious gaze.

But it wasn’t just curiosity that shone through his eyes.

There was something else. Something deeper simmering beneath the surface of his irises.

This was uncharted territory for you, as no one, not even your boyfriend had regarded you in such a way before. But that single look alone made your heart flutter rapidly against your ribs.

You both begin to lean in without realizing, lips brushing together as you cradle his jaw. This was something completely new for both of you. While you’d kissed plenty of times, it never happened after the sex ended.

This was quickly becoming a dangerous game, one neither of you had any intention of losing.

And as hard as you tried to avoid your feelings, you knew you were starting to fall for him. Which was the most dangerous game of them all.

Your lips continued to move against each other for what felt like forever, only breaking apart to catch your breath every so often. Kissing Eddie was just as addicting as every other part of him, and you never wanted it to end.

So you stayed like that for hours, stealing kisses in between gentle words. He told you about his home life with Wayne, how he’d listened and memorized every single chord of Master of Puppets until he got it right. Little things that made you understand exactly who Eddie Munson really was.

But time seemed to pass by in an instant, the evening sky bathing the walls of your room in a golden hue. A signal that it was time for him to leave.

You felt a tug on your heartstrings as you watched him slide open your bedroom window, desperately wishing the circumstances were different.

“Wait!” you call as he was already halfway through the window, flashing you a grin as you bounded over to him.

You press a searing kiss to his mouth as he cups your cheek, neither of you quite willing to be the first to pull away.

“I gotta go,” he tries to mask the disappointment in his tone, pressing one last kiss to your lips before slipping out of your window completely.

You watch as the male clumsily jumps down from the second story, his wallet chain jingling upon impact. Eddie takes a moment to steady himself before he turns back to glance up at you. Giving you a little bow before he’s off, cutting through your neighbors yard to get back to his van.

You can hear the blaring guitar of Quiet Riot as he starts up the engine, the rumble echoing in your ears as he takes off down the empty street.

Taking a little piece of your heart with him.

— next chapter.

tagging some peeps who seemed interested 💕

@xxbimbobunnyxx @vamp-bunny @munsonhoneybaby @mugloversonly @lokis-army-77

and a special shoutout to my bby @undead-supernova for always being my lil cheerleader ily 🫶🏻

[urdreamydoodles]

X-Men x Reader (Part.1)

A chaotic night at the carnival with your boyfriend (Part.1)

You and your boyfriend embark on a chaotic carnival adventure, where their unique personalities lead to unpredictable situations.

Characters: Logan Howlett, Remy LeBeau, Kurt Wagner, Scott Summers, Erik Lehnsherr, Warren Worthington III, Bobby Drake, Pietro Maximoff, Wade Wilson & Cable

Let's forget mutant rac*sm for one night, 'kay? No humans looking you weird because of who you are. These headcanons are pure joy.

Logan Howlett (Wolverine)

- Logan wasn’t exactly the carnival type. When he suggested taking you to one, you weren’t sure what had gotten into him. But there you were, walking hand-in-hand with him through the bustling crowd of people, the scent of popcorn and fried food filling the air. His rough exterior clashed humorously with the colorful surroundings, and you couldn’t help but laugh at the way he grumbled every time someone bumped into him or a ride screeched too loudly. He glanced down at you, raising an eyebrow. “What’s so funny?”

- “You are,” you teased, nudging him with your shoulder. “This doesn’t seem like your kind of thing.”

- Logan grunted but gave a small smirk. “Figured you might like it. And besides, could use a little break from the usual crap.”

- You smiled at his thoughtfulness, squeezing his hand. You weren’t sure how long the peace would last, though, knowing Logan’s knack for attracting trouble. As if on cue, you spotted a strength-testing game nearby, the kind with the hammer and the bell at the top. Logan’s eyes narrowed as he noticed it too, and you instantly knew what was coming.

- “Wanna give it a try, tough guy?” you teased, already imagining the chaos this could cause.

- “Oh, I’m doin’ it,” Logan growled, determination in his voice as he dragged you over to the booth. The carnival worker looked a little too confident, like he’d never seen someone like Logan in his life. Logan picked up the hammer with ease, spinning it in his hands before positioning himself in front of the game.

- “You sure about this?” you asked, giggling at the way he sized up the machine like it was his next battle. But before you could say anything else, Logan swung the hammer down with full force. The bell didn’t just ring—it practically flew off the top of the pole with a loud clang, leaving the carnival worker standing there, slack-jawed.

- People around the game burst into laughter and applause, while Logan just shrugged and handed the hammer back like it was nothing. “Cheap machine,” he muttered, as if it had been a weak challenge. You couldn’t stop laughing, your sides aching as you tried to catch your breath.

- The carnival worker, still stunned, offered you both a giant stuffed bear as a prize. “For your troubles,” he said, eyeing Logan warily. You gladly accepted the bear, knowing Logan wasn’t the type to care about prizes.

- As you walked away, you leaned into Logan, wiping tears of laughter from your eyes. “You broke the carnival.”

- “Wasn’t my fault,” he grumbled, though there was a hint of pride in his voice. “Damn thing wasn’t built right.”

- Despite the chaotic start, the night continued with more laughs as Logan tried his best to blend in. He won you a few more prizes, though you could tell he was holding back on most of the games, trying not to cause too much destruction. The bumper cars were another story, though. The moment Logan got behind the wheel, all bets were off. He went after anyone who came close, slamming into other cars with a grin that told you he was enjoying this way too much.

- When the night ended, you were both loaded down with stuffed animals and prizes. “Well, that was… something,” you said, glancing up at Logan. He looked more relaxed than you’d seen him in a while, and despite the chaos, you were glad you had come.

- Logan gave you a sideways look, his hand finding yours again. “Yeah, it was somethin’,” he agreed. “But don’t think I’ll be doin’ this every week.”

- You laughed, pulling him close for a kiss. “Maybe once in a while. Just for fun.”

Remy LeBeau (Gambit)

- “You ready for dis, chérie?” Remy asked, his grin wide as he led you through the carnival entrance. His excitement was contagious, and you found yourself getting caught up in the lights and sounds, despite knowing that anything involving Remy was bound to lead to some kind of trouble. He held your hand loosely, his thumb brushing over your knuckles as he scanned the carnival with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

- “Ready for what, exactly?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. You knew better than to expect a quiet night when it came to Remy. The man thrived on chaos and fun, and carnivals were like his personal playground.

- “Everything!” Remy said dramatically, sweeping his arm to gesture at the carnival games, rides, and food stalls. “We gon’ win every prize, eat everythin’, and maybe—just maybe—I’ll take you up on dat Ferris wheel.”

- You laughed, already bracing yourself for whatever chaos Remy was about to unleash. He dragged you toward the game booths first, eyeing the ring toss with a suspicious amount of confidence. “How ‘bout we start with somethin’ easy?”

- Remy tossed a few rings with the finesse of someone who had probably spent his life perfecting sleight of hand tricks. He made it look effortless, hitting the targets every time. The game worker handed you a small stuffed animal as a prize, but Remy wasn’t satisfied.

- “Non, non, I got more in me,” he said with a wink, flipping a coin in his fingers as he eyed the larger prizes. You tried to pull him away, knowing what was coming, but it was too late. Remy wasn’t playing fair anymore. With a flick of his wrist, he tossed a ring that glowed faintly with kinetic energy, sending it perfectly onto one of the highest-scoring targets.

- The worker’s eyes widened, clearly confused by how Remy had managed that, but he handed over the grand prize—a ridiculously large stuffed tiger. “Here you go,” he said, casting Remy a suspicious look.

- “Merci, mon ami,” Remy said smoothly, handing the tiger to you with a flourish. “For you, ma belle.”

- You could only shake your head, trying to hold back your laughter. “You cheated,” you whispered, though you couldn’t help but smile at the way he was grinning like a kid who had gotten away with something.

- “Just a lil’ help,” Remy said, shrugging as he slung his arm around your shoulders. “Dat’s the fun, non?”

- The night continued in much the same way. Remy charmed his way through every booth, somehow managing to win every game despite the odds. He even convinced you to go on the Ferris wheel with him, though the moment the wheel started turning, he leaned over and whispered in your ear, “You scared of heights, chérie?”

- “Not until you said that,” you muttered, gripping the safety bar a little tighter. Remy laughed, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek as the Ferris wheel carried you both up to the top. From there, the chaos of the carnival seemed far below you, and for a moment, everything felt perfect.

- That was until you got off the Ferris wheel and Remy decided to try his luck at one last game—a dart-throwing booth. “Watch dis,” he said confidently, picking up the darts. You watched, amused, as he tossed the first dart with perfect precision. It hit the target dead center, earning him another prize.

- But as Remy lined up his second dart, someone bumped into him, causing him to miss the target completely. The dart hit the edge of the booth and sent one of the stuffed animals flying into the air.

- The game worker let out a startled yell, and before you knew it, Remy was laughing so hard he could barely stand. “Oops,” he said, though you could tell he wasn’t sorry at all.

- You grabbed his hand, pulling him away from the booth before things got worse. “I think that’s enough chaos for one night.”

- Remy flashed you a grin, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Ah, but you had fun, didn’t you?”

- You couldn’t deny it. “Yeah, I did. But next time, maybe we try something a little less… explosive.”

Kurt Wagner (Nightcrawler)

- “Zis is amazing!” Kurt exclaimed as he looked around the carnival, his excitement contagious. His tail flicked back and forth as he took everything in—the lights, the music, the people. You smiled at his enthusiasm, knowing that Kurt’s childlike wonder could turn even the most ordinary event into something magical. But you also knew that wherever Kurt went, chaos was never far behind.

- “It’s just a carnival, Kurt,” you teased, though you couldn’t help but smile at how happy he looked. “You act like you’ve never been to one before.”

- Kurt grinned, his fangs peeking out in that charming way that always made your heart skip a beat. “Ja, but every time is like ze first time when you’re with me, mein Schatz.”

- You rolled your eyes but let him lead you through the crowd, his arm wrapped around your waist protectively. You could already see him eyeing the different carnival games with curiosity, and you knew it was only a matter of time before something went wrong.

- The first sign of chaos came when Kurt spotted a haunted house attraction. His eyes lit up, and before you could protest, he had already bought tickets and was dragging you inside. “Zis vill be fun!” he promised, his tail curling in excitement.

- The haunted house was dark, and cheap jump scares popped out from every corner. Despite knowing they were fake, you still jumped every time something came at you. Kurt, on the other hand, was having the time of his life, laughing at every skeleton or ghoul that leaped out from the shadows. His hand remained on your lower back, guiding you through the twisting hallways, but you noticed his tail twitching in anticipation.

- Just as you both rounded a corner, a particularly loud scream echoed through the room, followed by a life-sized animatronic zombie lunging toward you. Without thinking, Kurt instinctively "bamfed"—disappearing into a cloud of smoke and reappearing right in front of the zombie. “Ach! You scared mein Schatz!” he exclaimed dramatically, holding out his hands as if scolding the fake creature.

- You burst into laughter, doubling over as Kurt’s display turned into a full-fledged performance, complete with mock outrage. “You realize it’s not real, right?” you said, trying to catch your breath between giggles.

- “Real or not, I vill not stand for zis disrespect!” Kurt said, grinning as his tail curled around your wrist. He gave a wink before "bamfing" again, appearing just behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist.

- As the haunted house continued, Kurt couldn’t resist teleporting around, jumping ahead to surprise you or appearing beside some of the animatronics to “challenge” them to a duel. By the time you reached the exit, both of you were breathless from laughter, and the haunted house employees were giving Kurt curious, amused looks.

- “Zat vas wunderbar!” Kurt declared, pulling you close for a quick kiss. “Ve should do zat again, ja?”

- “Maybe without the bamfing next time,” you teased, though you couldn’t deny how much fun it had been.

- The rest of the night continued in much the same way. Kurt’s excitement was infectious, and he couldn’t help but teleport around the carnival, grabbing prizes for you and whisking you off to different booths. At one point, he even teleported both of you onto the Ferris wheel, much to the operator’s confusion.

- As the night came to a close, Kurt wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close as you both watched the fireworks light up the sky. “Danke, mein Liebling,” he whispered, his tail wrapping around your wrist gently. “For making zis night perfect.”

Scott Summers (Cyclops)

- Scott had insisted on going to the carnival with a plan. A structured plan. “We’ll hit the games first, then maybe the rides, and after that, we can grab some food,” he said confidently, holding a map of the carnival in one hand as he walked beside you. You couldn’t help but laugh at how seriously he was taking it, but that was just Scott.

- “You know, you can relax a little,” you teased, nudging him playfully. “It’s a carnival, not a mission.”

- Scott gave you a half-smile, adjusting his sunglasses. “I just want to make sure we get to do everything. There’s a lot to cover.”

- You appreciated his effort, but you knew Scott’s love of structure would inevitably clash with the chaos of the carnival. It didn’t take long for things to spiral. The first sign of trouble came when you reached the ring toss booth. Scott, ever the perfectionist, was determined to win you one of the giant stuffed animals. After missing a few rings, though, you could see the frustration building in his expression.

- “I don’t get it,” he muttered, lining up another ring. “I’m hitting the target dead-on. Why won’t it stay?”

- You bit back a laugh, knowing he was taking this far too seriously. “Maybe it’s rigged?” you suggested, trying to lighten the mood.

- Scott frowned, clearly not convinced. “I’m going to try again.”

- This time, you stepped forward, placing a hand on his arm gently. “It’s just a game, Scott. We can always try another one.”

- He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. I just wanted to win you something.”

- Your heart melted a little at his earnestness, and you leaned up to kiss his cheek. “You don’t have to win me anything. I’m happy just being here with you.”

- Scott’s expression softened, and he gave you a small, appreciative smile. “Thanks.”

- Just as things seemed to calm down, the Ferris wheel caught Scott’s eye. “Let’s ride that next,” he suggested, glancing at the line. “We’ll be able to see the whole carnival from up there.”

- As you both waited in line, everything seemed to be going smoothly until, suddenly, one of the carnival workers tripped over a loose cable, causing a small electrical issue that made the Ferris wheel stop mid-turn. You both were stuck at the top, dangling in mid-air.

- “Great,” Scott muttered under his breath, looking at the non-functioning ride. “This wasn’t part of the plan.”

- You couldn’t help but laugh, leaning your head on his shoulder. “I guess even you can’t plan for everything.”

- He gave a resigned chuckle, shaking his head. “Yeah, yeah. Guess you’re right.” He wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close as you both watched the sun setting over the carnival from your vantage point in the sky.

Bobby Drake (Iceman)

- Bobby was the definition of carefree and fun, so when he suggested going to the carnival, you knew it would be a night full of laughter and mischief. “I’m gonna win you all the prizes,” he declared confidently as you both entered the carnival grounds, his hand laced with yours.

- “You sure about that?” you teased, raising an eyebrow. “What if I’m better at the games than you?”

- Bobby grinned, giving you a playful wink. “Oh, I *know* you’re competitive, but just wait. I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve.”

- The first game you both hit was the basketball toss. Bobby stepped up, flashing the carnival worker a confident smile. “Watch and learn, babe.”

- You crossed your arms, smirking as you watched him make his first shot—and miss. “Looks like you need some practice,” you teased, stifling a laugh.

- Bobby shot you a mock glare before lining up his next shot. This time, he nailed it, and you couldn’t help but cheer for him. “Told you I had this,” he said, accepting the prize from the worker—a small stuffed penguin, fittingly enough.

- As the night went on, Bobby’s playful antics kept you entertained. He made sure to try every game, even using his powers in small, sneaky ways to give himself an advantage. At one point, he froze the water gun in the shooting game just enough to keep it steady, winning a giant stuffed bear that he proudly handed over to you.

- “How many stuffed animals do you think we can carry?” you asked, laughing as Bobby piled yet another prize into your arms.

- “As many as it takes,” he said with a grin, but you could see the gleam in his eye that told you he was up to something.

- Sure enough, when you reached the ice cream stand, Bobby couldn’t resist using his powers to show off. He created a small ice sculpture of a penguin on your cone, earning a round of applause from the nearby kids.

- “You’re such a show-off,” you said, rolling your eyes, but you couldn’t stop smiling.

- “I know, I know,” Bobby said, bowing dramatically. “But admit it—you love it.”

- As the night continued, Bobby couldn’t resist getting into a bit of chaos. When you both reached the bumper cars, he made sure to freeze the track just enough to send everyone spinning wildly out of control. You could hear people laughing, completely unaware of the small patch of ice Bobby had created beneath their wheels.

- “Bobby!” you scolded, though you were laughing too hard to sound serious. “You’re going to get us kicked out!”

- “Nah, they’ll never know,” he said, giving you a wink as you both raced around the track, dodging the other cars. It wasn’t long before the ride attendant started looking suspicious, though, and Bobby quickly melted the ice before anyone could catch on.

- By the end of the night, you were both loaded down with prizes and stuffed animals, your sides aching from laughter. “Best. Night. Ever,” Bobby declared as he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you close.

- “Yeah, it was pretty amazing,” you agreed, leaning into him as you walked toward the exit. “But next time, maybe we keep the chaos to a minimum?”

- “Where’s the fun in that?” Bobby teased, planting a kiss on your temple.

Warren Worthington III (Angel)

- Warren always had an air of elegance and class about him, even at a carnival. From the moment you walked through the entrance, his hand resting on your lower back, he looked slightly out of place among the flashing lights and crowds. Still, he indulged your excitement, smiling at the prospect of a night filled with games and rides.

- “I’m not exactly used to this kind of... environment,” he admitted, adjusting his shirt as if he were still in some high-class event. You laughed, giving his arm a playful squeeze. “Don’t worry, Warren. Just follow my lead. We’ll start with something simple, like the ring toss.”

- At the game booth, Warren gave a polite nod to the carnival worker and then tried his best to follow the rules of the game. Unfortunately for him, his first few tosses were way off the mark, despite his best efforts. His wings twitched in mild frustration, and you could tell he wasn’t used to failure in any form.

- “Here, let me show you how it’s done,” you teased, stepping up and grabbing a ring. To your own surprise, your first throw landed perfectly around the bottle. You turned to Warren with a grin. “See? It’s all about aiming where you’re not trying to go.”

- Warren chuckled softly, though you could see the competitive spark in his eyes. He was always one to rise to a challenge. After a few more tries, he finally won, and with his natural grace, he handed you a giant stuffed bear. “For you, love. Even if it did take me longer than I expected.”

- Things really started to get chaotic when you both decided to go on the bumper cars. You didn’t think much of it, but Warren’s wings made it difficult for him to comfortably sit in the small car. “This... might not have been the best idea,” he muttered as he tried to squeeze in.

- You were already laughing as you got into your own car, watching Warren struggle to fit his wings within the tight confines. As the ride started, Warren immediately became a target for all the kids driving around, probably because of his wings sticking out awkwardly. Every few seconds, a car would bump into him, sending him jolting forward.

- “Why did I agree to this?” he grumbled, trying to avoid another hit. But when you managed to ram your car into his with a mischievous grin, Warren shot you an amused glare. “You’re going to pay for that.”

- The rest of the ride was a blur of chaotic bumper car mayhem. You laughed the whole time, but you could tell Warren was both trying to enjoy himself and maintain his dignity. By the end of it, his feathers were slightly ruffled, and he gave you a look that said he was never doing that again.

- As the night continued, Warren did loosen up, especially when you convinced him to go on the Ferris wheel with you. The view from the top was breathtaking, and for a moment, he seemed to relax completely, his arm around your shoulders as you leaned into him. “Now *this* I can get used to,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your temple.

- By the end of the night, despite the chaos, Warren admitted he had fun. “Next time, let’s try something a little more... refined,” he teased, though you knew he’d come back to the carnival with you any time you wanted.

Erik Lehnsherr (Magneto)

- Erik wasn’t exactly the kind of person who frequented carnivals. You knew it from the moment you suggested it, and the slight arch of his eyebrow told you he wasn’t thrilled about the idea. “A carnival? You’re serious?” he asked, arms crossed.

- “It’ll be fun,” you insisted, grabbing his hand. “Come on, Erik, when was the last time you let yourself just relax and enjoy something silly?”

- He sighed, though the corner of his mouth twitched upward. “For you, I suppose I can make an exception.” That’s how you found yourself walking into the brightly lit carnival with one of the most powerful mutants in the world by your side, looking decidedly out of place but determined to humor you.

- It didn’t take long for things to start going wrong. Erik, being the master of magnetism, unintentionally interfered with several of the carnival rides. You were both standing in line for a simple spinning ride when it suddenly shut down. The operator seemed confused, scratching his head as the machinery stalled.

- “I didn’t even touch anything,” Erik muttered, though you shot him a knowing look. “Really, I didn’t.”

- “Maybe we should stick to games where you don’t have to be near anything metal,” you suggested with a grin, tugging him toward the balloon dart booth.

- Erik’s mood lightened a bit when you both started playing the carnival games. He didn’t have much interest in stuffed animals or prizes, but watching you get competitive at the ring toss and dart games made him smile in his own subtle way. “You’re really getting into this, aren’t you?” he teased, watching as you missed another shot.

- “It’s harder than it looks!” you argued, but Erik just chuckled. With a flick of his fingers, he subtly guided one of your darts into a balloon, making it pop instantly. You turned to him with wide eyes. “Did you just—”

- “No idea what you’re talking about,” he said smoothly, smirking as the carnival worker handed you a prize.

- The real chaos came when you convinced him to try the strength tester, the game where you hit a hammer and try to ring the bell. Erik didn’t even bother to use his full strength—just a quick, casual swing, and the bell practically flew off the top, clattering onto the ground.

- “Well, that’s one way to win,” you said, trying to stifle your laughter as the carnival worker stared in shock.

- Erik shrugged, looking mildly amused as he glanced at the broken bell. “Not my fault they didn’t build it properly.”

- By the end of the night, despite the mishaps, Erik seemed to have enjoyed himself more than he’d admit. “It was... tolerable,” he said with a smirk, pulling you close. “But next time, let’s do something less likely to fall apart around me.”

Pietro Maximoff (Quicksilver)

- Going to a carnival with Pietro was a whirlwind—literally. From the moment you stepped through the gates, he was off, zipping from one game to the next, barely giving you time to catch up. “Come on, slowpoke!” he called out, already standing at the dart booth before you could even take your first step.

- “You’re impossible,” you muttered, but you couldn’t help but smile. Pietro’s energy was infectious, and you knew tonight would be full of chaos.

- It started with the games. Pietro was determined to win you every prize in the carnival, though his speed made it hard for him to slow down enough to actually play. At the ring toss, he zoomed through several rings before realizing none of them had landed. “This game is rigged,” he grumbled, crossing his arms.

- “Maybe you should try slowing down,” you suggested with a grin, stepping up to take your turn. To your surprise, you managed to win on your second try, earning a small stuffed animal. Pietro looked at you with wide eyes, clearly impressed. “Okay, maybe you’re just better at this than I am.”

- The real chaos, though, came when you convinced him to go on the carousel. It seemed like a harmless enough ride, but as soon as it started moving, Pietro couldn’t resist the urge to speed it up. Before you knew it, the horses were spinning around at an alarming rate, and people were shouting in surprise.

- “Pietro!” you yelled, holding onto the pole for dear life. “Slow it down!”

- With a laugh, he finally let the ride return to its normal speed, though the other riders were clearly a little dizzy when they got off. “What? I thought it could use a little excitement,” he said with a mischievous grin.

- “You’re going to get us kicked out,” you teased, shaking your head as you both moved on to the next attraction.

- The bumper cars were a whole different level of chaos. Pietro’s speed allowed him to dodge every car with ease, leaving the other riders frustrated as they tried to catch him. You, on the other hand, found yourself being bumped into every few seconds as you tried to keep up.

- “You’re supposed to be on my team!” you shouted as Pietro zipped past you, laughing as he narrowly avoided another car.

- “Sorry, babe, no teams in bumper cars!” he called back, clearly enjoying himself.

- By the end of the night, you were both breathless from laughter and running around the carnival. Pietro wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you close as you walked toward the exit. “That was fun,” he admitted, his usual cocky grin softening a bit. “We should do it again sometime.”

- “Maybe next time you’ll slow down long enough for me to actually enjoy it,” you teased, though you knew you wouldn’t change a thing about the chaotic, whirlwind night you’d had with him.

Wade Wilson (Deadpool)

- A carnival date with Wade, was bound to be one of the wildest experiences of your life. The second you stepped into the carnival, he was bouncing around like a kid who’d had way too much sugar. “Oh baby, this is gonna be epic! Carnies, cotton candy, and chaos—three of my favorite things!”

- Wade insisted on playing every game, but instead of trying to win prizes, he was more interested in “spicing things up.” At the dart throw, he purposely hit the ceiling instead of the balloons, declaring, “It’s reverse psychology! They’ll never see it coming!” The poor booth operator was at a loss for words, especially when Wade whipped out his katana, threatening to “pop them all at once.”

- “Wade, no weapons at the carnival,” you reminded him with a chuckle, pulling him away before he could get you both kicked out.

- The real chaos began when Wade spotted the Ferris wheel. “Do you know what this needs? A dramatic Ferris wheel kiss!” Before you could protest, Wade dragged you into a cart, somehow managing to cause a malfunction that stopped the wheel at the very top. The two of you were suspended in mid-air as Wade dramatically dipped you, trying to plant a kiss while also almost flipping you both out of the cart.

- “Wade! We’re gonna fall!” you shrieked, laughing despite yourself.

- “Then we’ll fall in love—literally!” he quipped, still holding onto you with one arm while the other waved madly for the carnival operator to fix the ride.

- After finally getting back on the ground, Wade couldn’t resist trying the bumper cars. This, naturally, turned into a high-speed chase where he decided to narrate the entire thing like a car chase in an action movie. “And Deadpool swerves to the left, narrowly avoiding that kid with cotton candy! But wait, here comes the love of his life, ready to T-bone him from the right!”

- By the time you left the carnival, both of you were banned from at least three rides, Wade had convinced a few people he was actually part of the entertainment, and you couldn’t stop laughing. As the night wound down, Wade gave you a surprisingly soft smile, taking your hand in his.

- “Y’know, this wasn’t half bad,” he said, squeezing your fingers. “You’re pretty fun, babe. And that’s saying something, ‘cause I’m the king of fun.”

- “You make chaos fun,” you teased back, leaning into him as you walked out of the carnival. “And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Nathan Summers (Cable)

- A carnival with Cable was a different kind of adventure. Nathan wasn’t exactly the carnival type, and you could tell by the way he scanned the crowd the moment you stepped in, his metal arm gleaming under the bright lights. “Do you ever stop being on alert?” you teased him, looping your arm through his.

- He gave you a half-smile, the kind that made your heart race. “Force of habit. But if you want me to relax, I’ll give it a shot.”

- The night started off relatively normal, at least by Cable standards. He begrudgingly tried a few games, and while he wasn’t exactly into it, you could tell he was making an effort for you. “This is rigged,” he muttered after missing a shot at the basketball hoop, his brow furrowed in concentration.

- “Or maybe you’re just out of practice,” you teased, and for a moment, you thought you saw a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. But things took a turn when you both decided to ride the carousel.

- Halfway through, the ride glitched, and suddenly you found yourselves not in the carnival but in a different time period entirely. “Nathan, did you—?”

- “I didn’t do anything!” he said, his eyes narrowing as he tried to figure out what had gone wrong. The carousel horses were now galloping through a war-torn landscape, and Cable immediately shifted into battle mode.

- “We have to get out of here,” he growled, using his telekinesis to shield you from flying debris. Just when you thought you were stuck in this alternate timeline forever, Cable managed to fix the glitch, and you both tumbled back into the carnival with a thud.

- “Okay, no more rides,” you panted, laughing as you collapsed against him. Cable chuckled softly, wrapping his metal arm around you protectively.

- “Yeah, maybe we stick to something a little less... chaotic,” he agreed, pressing a kiss to your temple. But despite the madness, you couldn’t deny that the chaos had been kind of thrilling.

- As you left the carnival, Cable squeezed your hand, his usually stoic expression softening. “Next time, let’s just do dinner,” he said, his voice low and sincere. “I think we’ve had enough excitement for one night.”

[grilde1chesse]

⇢ RESiDENT EViL HEAD CANONS

- jack krauser, leon kennedy, luis serra, ada wong, chris redfield, albert wesker, jill valentine, claire redfield, ethan winters

✧ jack krauser

transman & mlm he doesn’t listen to music often, but when he does it's metal grew up on the countryside with traditional home values (stay at home mom, "man of the house", etc. etc.) as the youngest sibling to 3 brothers. his parent's marriage wasn't one out of love, but rather convenience & societal expectations/pressure. because of this were constantly fighting & physically abusive towards Jack and his siblings. acted and presented masculine from a young age in order to prove he can be a "real" man. ran away from home to join the military at 18. he's spent most of his life away from civilian life, and because of this, he doesn't know how to function in society outside combat. ( "During his days off, Krauser often participated in mercenary work, as he felt that he could not function within society and believed that his service and the thrill of combat were what gave his life meaning." ) extremely insecure about being transgender & uses his power/rank to "make up" for it. resents his homosexuality as he sees it as the remaining "female side" of him he's unable to get rid of. because of this internalized homo/transphobia, he's extremely violent towards anyone he falls for and takes that involuntary attraction as a direct insult to his masculinity. this also ties into his childhood & how he grew up without an example of what healthy affection looks like. his hyper masculinity and borderline (if not outright) misogyny stems from his own dysphoria and insecurities. wears a packer religiously. fighting tooth and nail to not turn this into a ship brainrot ramble BUT this is why i think Krauser's so overly harsh on Leon while also favoriting him to a degree. ("Either way, this is definitely not a 'training room,' this is something Krauser, presumably, put together specifically to train Leon away from the others. There's too much clutter and nothing that would indicate that it's any sort of training area.") ALSO LOOK AT THIS EDIT PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

✧ leon s. kennedy

transman & bisexual (realistically it wouldn't be likely/possible that he'd been on testosterone long enough for his voice to change to the degree it has in re2r, as it was the 80s... BUT theres no fun in that :-) plus it explains the voice change from re2r to re4r) honorary dad & country rock lover. (canon confirmed?) listens to Nickelback, Saving Abel, Nine Inch Nails, Hinder, Breaking Benjamin, Failure, Nirvana, Avenged Sevenfold, Seether, some MCR (denies it), Shinedown & similar bands :-)!! autistic, has sensitive skin & eczema. a chronic gum chewer. it’s a comforting, absent minded movement that keeps him grounded on the job. spearmint hurts his mouth so he prefers bubble gum or less cold mint flavors. (i'm not projecting u r.) named after his father and introduces himself as Leon S. Kennedy to separate himself from him. went by Scott/Scottie in his teenage years. total mama's boy. Leon Senior was a heavy alcoholic and is where he got his drinking problems from, something Leon's incredibly insecure about as he's afraid of turning into his dad. grew up resenting his father and blames him for his mom's death. had a bit of chub before becoming an agent & grew into a dad bod/beer belly as he got older :-)!!! was extremely insecure as a teenager & child, having facial and body dysphoria both of which remained untreated & linger in his adult life somewhat. was a very light blonde when he was younger, but his hair gradually got darker as he grew up until he was a light brown/dirty blonde (cue identity crisis "am i blonde or a brunette???"). eventually, he started bleaching it. lost motivation and stopped dying it as he got older. movie buff (canon) ( "He makes a lot of references to films such as the "go medieval on your ass" line from RE4R, which is a quote from Pulp Fiction or comparing the China mission to Black Hawk Down. He also quotes a whole scene from Casablanca from memory in Vendetta (the "I never make plans that far ahead" part), so he seems to watch quite a variety of films." ) in the nicest most affectionate way possible... he is so annoying about movies actually, will not shut up with his trivia the whole time it plays. hates horror movies but will never admit it. played hockey as a kid. grew up somewhere cold & is adapted to cold temperatures (he can't stand the heat though). had a dog as a kid and used to absolutely love them (specifically bloodhounds) but he developed a phobia of them after Raccoon City (can you blame him?). no matter how badly he wants a normal domestic life (to settle down, start a family, and give his kids the childhood he never had) he’s secretly terrified of the idea. he doesn’t know how to function outside of work, even when on vacation he can’t seem to relax. (he'd probably name his kids some stupid shit like "Hunter" though, so maybe that's for the best...)

✧ luis serra

cisgender & bisexual or mlm the closest we have to a canon music taste 4 him is Barbie Girl by Aqua (hehe), BUT i'd imagine he'd be a fan of musicians like Queen, Elton John, Michael Jackson, Madonna, ABBA, Billy Joel, Dolly Parton and other artists known to be popular in queer communities!! Grew up Catholic & still holds onto some core ideologies, though in a more superstitious way than religious. while he doesn't consider himself Catholic, he still carries around a cross necklace from his childhood & prays occasionally. Valdelobos was (in canon) devoutly Catholic prior to Saddler's reign, so it makes sense for him to hold on to some of that guilt. (him signing the cross in game.) his jacket is custom-tailored. going on a biiiit of a ramble/history lesson here... but if you look up Western saddles you'll find some with floral patterns similar to Luis' jacket. it's a kind of leather carving that was APPARENTLY inspired by medieval Spanish saddles. not really relevant but a fun fact nonetheless! :-) he picked up smoking from his grandfather. extremely picky when it comes to what cigarettes he smokes. he prefers Marlboro Reds (i don't smoke (except for when i'm missing you) so idrk what i'm talking about) very sentimental & holds on to little trinkets & gifts & pictures, etc. (this is somewhat canon confirmed, seen with him holding onto the Umbrella Dream Team photo, along with the lighter.)

✧ ada wong

transwoman & arospec lesbian likes 80s pop music & typical girly ego boost stuff. stuff like Kate Bush, Lady Gaga & ABBA (she loves Babooshka by Kate Bush & Cheri Cheri Lady by Modern Talking). not sure if she'd actually listen to any of her stuff, but K. Flay's music reminds me of her, specifically The President Has A Sex Tape. mommy issues queen. was in and out of foster care her entire childhood, only to end up back with her mom every time. she's extremely self-sufficient and refuses to rely or depend on anyone due to her childhood history of neglect. essentially raised herself. picked up smoking from her mother and absolutely hates it. she only falls back on nicotine when doing horribly. she carries cigarettes around with her on missions, just in case. has cherry blossom lip gloss and re-applies it religiously. has drop foot (i genuinely can’t think of any other sensible reason she’d always been wearing heels </3). used to like true crime when she was younger. she has issues identifying her feelings and honestly doesn’t care enough to work through them. she isn’t sure if she even likes some people at all. she can’t tell apart affection and finding someone useful. either way, she wants certain people around/safe and she isn’t sure why (Leon for example).

✧ chris redfield

cisgender & mlm canonically listens to Queen and is generally just a big music fan!! (him and Claire's "Made in Heaven" jackets + the Gibson Les Paul at his desk in the S.T.A.R.S. office :-)) listens to Queen, The Smashing Pumpkins, Fleetwood Mac, the Foo Fighters, (some) Nirvana, AC/DC, KISS, Van Halen, Iron Maden, Black Sabeth, The Fray, Failure, Kings of Leon & similar bands ^_^!! likely disabled after that TBI in Edonia (i'd imagine there'd be some long-term consequences from hitting ur head so hard u get amnesia for 6 months). total adrenaline junkie with a savior complex. has an extremely high pain tolerance. he cannot fucking hear oh my god... please get him a hearing aid its so bad. was the stereotypical overprotective brother when he and Claire were younger, always scaring the shit out of anyone she brought home. used to take her to junk yards for shooting practice (she shot herself in the leg once... oopsies!). probably smells like a dog & uses 4 in 1 shampoo. stinky vermin. can’t cook for the life of him; lives off microwaveable meals. surprisingly organized, considering how messy he used to be in his younger years. plays the guitar (canon) & has a Gibson. Shy about his singing voice, so it's rare to hear, but i'd imagine it sounds similar to Isaac Slade's (lead singer of The Fray), just a bit deeper/gruffier. extremely good with dogs - actually considered being a dog trainer when he was younger. has a German Shepherd & a Bernese Mountain Dog, both are extremely well trained. canonically hates the rich, and is anti-capitalist lol. it's likely he was discharged from the Air Force for talking back to his superiors. would be an amazing dad but is terrified of the idea of settling down. no matter how badly he wants to have a domestic life he doesn’t know how to adapt to it. has a matching tattoo with Claire!! ^_^

✧ albert wesker

aro/ase spec & pan has autism, ASPD, NPD & a god complex (he has no idea what most of those labels mean & sees any attempts at people diagnosing him as useless and a waste of time). sensory issues & sensitive eyes because of Uroboros (leads to overstimulation sometimes, which makes him even more of a grumpy bitch). has an insane skincare routine. listens to classical music & 80s crap. while he originally got with ms. Muller with the goal of having a child, Wesker was unaware of Jake's birth. he deemed her as suitable as she had desirable traits that he wanted to carry on but never knew she actually got pregnant. suppresses/ignores any sexual thoughts/urges he has, as he views sexual impulses as a weakness and looks down on it. he sees himself as better than the average person because of his ability to control this. walked on his toes as a kid. most lights are too bright for him (hence the sunglasses wearing indoors). gets extremely frustrated if his plants or routine get interrupted or even slightly changed. sits in a dark room to de stimulate when needed, sometimes he reads, other times he just zones out. weird about how he treats Neurotypical ppl lol (treats them as they would Neurodivergents; like his experiences are the social norm & any other way of living is alien and outlandish). doesn’t smoke often but when he does he prefers Camels or Marlboro Blues (again, i don’t smoke so idrk). speaks some German & Latin (Latin from virus names and yada yada sciencey stuff)

✧ jill valentine

cisgender & lesbian listens to riot grrrl music (bikini kill), Come, Deftones, System of a Down, Paramore, Drowning Pool, Slipknot, Depeche Mode, TOOL, Soundgarden, Papa Roach, Breaking Benjamin & similar bands while the S.D. Perry novels aren't canon i rlly like how they depicted her childhood (along with it being the only "official" backstory for her we have). the idea of her dad being a crime boss explains her knowledge of lock picking & ability to keep a level head. she definitely had a few run-ins with the law as a kid. she has a little sister. has a Russian Blue cat & her favorite fruit are pears. can speak some french, though not too well due to lack of use. she has fairly thick hair and an undercut that she refuses to have shaved professionally. she likes cutting her hair herself, and refuses to pay to have it done. normally she has a friend or whoever's available cut it for her in exchange for a couple bucks. still has blonde hair from re5, but dyes it (Wesker absolutely killed the melanin in her skin and hair). she has blonde streaks & roots due to lack of free time to re-dye. has heightened abilities from lingering effects of the P30 drug (strength, perception time, speed, etc.). has a permanent scar on her chest from the P30 device.

✧ claire redfield

cisgender & bisexual/lesbian listens to Queen (canon), Stevie Nicks, Heart, Led Zeppelin, the Runaways, KISS, Fleetwood Mac, AC/DC, Nirvana, Bon Jovi, No Doubt, Petal, The Killers, Jack Off Jill, The Smiths, Smashing Pumpkins & similar bands. Chris used to take her out to junkyards to practice shooting together (accidentally shot herself in the leg once after shooting at metal... oopsies :-)!!) dyes her hair auburn & hates wearing it down. has a crazy high pain tolerance (runs in the family) and used to get hurt a lot on accident as a kid (doing stupid shit like messing around with fire or blades). Autumn is her favorite season. messy, brash & assertive, & i’m sick of pretending she isn't </3. she was raised by Chris, no way is her room organized. has probably punched at least one person for saying some stupid bigoted shit. would be a great mom tbh. loves cherry-flavored stuff. has a matching tattoo with Chris!! ^_^

✧ ethan winters

transgender & bisexual autistic. has small nervous tics that come and go seemingly at random. not big on music. he just likes it as background noise. prefers instrumental music, like classical and jazz (somewhat canon), maybe a bit of dad rock. i think he'd like Earth Angel (Will You Be Mine) by The Penguins & Why Do You Let Me Stay Here? by She & Him! used to collect trading cards as a kid. he didn't exactly know how to play, he just liked how they look and feel. "standard" childhood, married middle-class parents with stable jobs yada yada yada. grew up in Texas (where he eventually met Mia) and spent a good portion of his life completely oblivious to the concept of being trans. once finding out he was trans he and Mia moved to California and he started T. talks to himself. could probably grow his limbs back starfish-style if he gave them enough time/didn't cover his fingers up with bandages (like Lucas did when Jack cut his arm off). has a favorite dinosaur. hates horror movies. so many movie & pop culture references... the dad jokes never end. 100% a reddit user. absolute sucker for compliments.

[a-reader-and-a-writer-for-all]

Sweeter Than Revenge Part 8

Fandom: Twisters, Tyler Owens, f!reader, Scott's Sister!reader Summary: The next few days pass by in a rush, but you've never been happier. That is until Scott reappears and decides to restart old drama. Word Count: 3264 TW: Kissing, Groping, Confrontation, Family Drama, Language Notes: A massive thank you to @blue-aconite for reading this over for me and for all the constant support! And to @mayhem24-7forever and @green-socks for always answering my late-night panicked messages

Ending Edited to Be Appropriate for SFW Blog. Original Can Be Found on My 18+ NSFW Blog @a-reader-and-a-writer But Please Only Interact If Under 18

Divider created by me (please ask/credit before using)

Series Masterlist

The next five days passed in a blur, yet they were some of the best of your life. Every morning, Tyler met you at your door with a smile and a kiss. Then you’d walk downstairs together and join the other Wranglers for breakfast. Afterward, you packed up and rode with Tyler and Boone as you chased after a few tornados. 

While you no longer had that initial anxiety like you did on your first chase, you never got tired of the breathtaking feeling as the storm hit the front of the truck and you passed through the heart of the funnel. That rush of adrenaline surging through you never lessened, and you understood why the Wranglers continued to do this after so long. 

After each chase, Boone and Lily reviewed the footage he captured, Dani inspected Tyler’s truck for any damage, and Dexter began checking for any more potential storms forming in the area. Meanwhile, you and Tyler would sneak off for some time alone together. Sometimes it would be in the bed of his truck, sometimes in the middle of an empty field, and, one time, even on the top of Dani and Dexter’s van. 

Most of the time, you kept things fairly PG—just some making out, snuggling against his chest while he held you, or him laying his head in your lap while you played with his hair. But occasionally, things would drift into a little more mature nature. You still had only known Tyler for less than a week and didn’t want to move too quickly, but sometimes you couldn’t help yourself. A few times after an exceptionally exhilarating storm or when Tyler was being extra sweet, you found yourself straddling his lap, grinding against him as his hand cupped your breasts. 

These moments often ended with the two of you panting heavily next to each other while you gave Tyler a few minutes to calm down so he could walk back to the rest of the crew. Though you knew you weren’t fooling anyone about what you were getting up to, no one said anything. However, you did catch Boone, Dani, and Lily exchanging a few pointed glances and snickering. If Tyler noticed, he didn’t let on. He just wrapped his arm across your shoulders and walked towards his truck with a big ol’ grin on his face.

Then, later once everyone had settled into their new accommodations for the night, Tyler would walk you to your room and say good night. Every time it became harder and harder to watch him walk away. You wanted him so badly and not just on a physical level. Sure, he was the most attractive man you’d ever kissed, but the more you learned about him—the more you got to know his personality, humor, and intelligence— the more you needed him to fuck your brains out. 

But that was the old you talking. The new you was trying to restrain yourself and build a solid foundation before taking this steer for a ride, but damn if it wasn’t frustrating. To make matters worse, you had planned to spend this trip with your brother, potentially sharing a room, so you hadn’t packed anything that would help you work out those frustrations. So every night when Tyler left you alone—lightheaded, wet, and needy—all you had was the almost non-existent pressure from the motel shower head and your own hand for any relief. 

As much as you were trying to behave, all it was going to take was one small thing for your cracking resolve to crumble completely.

The Wranglers changed motels almost every night since the storms sometimes took them hours away from where they started their day. However, all the chasers tended to follow the same storm cells so they all ended up in roughly the same location each night. 

Since receiving Javi’s note, you had spotted Scott several times. Sometimes it was at a gas station or a dinner, but most often it was at the motel as everyone settled in for the night or prepared to roll out in the morning. In each instance, you tried your best to stay out of his sight or not draw attention to yourself. At this point, you honestly couldn’t care less about what Scott thought of you or your being here. All of your focus was now on Tyler and the Wranglers. However, you knew Scott was still angry you were hanging around so you figured it was just easier to avoid him than to continue to poke the very grumpy, gum-chewing bear. 

But apparently, he had other plans.

On your ninth day in Oklahoma, Tyler picked you up at your room like always, planting a kiss on your lips and sliding your backpack onto his shoulder as soon as you opened the door. However, it was only when you were both at the bottom of the stairs that you remembered you had left your toothbrush on the sink to dry. He offered to run back and get it for you, but you waved him off, insisting you could go while he loaded everything into the truck. You could see it went against every courteous bone in his body, but he reluctantly agreed though you could feel his eyes on you until you disappeared at the top of the stairs. 

Luckily, you hadn’t returned your key to the drop box yet so you could enter the room, grab your toothbrush (which was sitting smack in the middle of the counter clear a day), and hurry back to the stairs all in less than thirty seconds. 

Crossing the parking lot, you spotted Tyler storing your backpack in the back of the truck and were about to start jogging over when a voice from behind you said, “So, it’s been over a week. When are you going to call off this little charade of yours?”

Sighing, you stopped and turned to face your brother. “It’s not a charade. I like the Wranglers and I’m having fun. I’m sorry if you don’t like that, but I’ve tried to stay out of your way. I don’t know what else you want me to do.”

Standing with his hands on his hips and his sunglasses tucked into his button-down’s front pocket, he snapped. “I want you to go home.”

“Scotty—”

“And stop calling me that!” Scott’s nostrils flared as his eyes burned beneath the bill of his hat. “I’m not ten anymore and this is still my place of work even if you treat it like a theme park. Some of us are trying to do a job while you play daredevil and make out with your latest boy toy.”

You knew he was pushing for a fight, but you physically bit your tongue to not take the bait. Ignoring his last outburst, you answered his previous question in a calm voice. “I’ll go home in a few days like I planned. Until then…Scott…” You dipped your head and resumed your walk. 

Looking ahead, you noticed Tyler had stopped packing and was leaning against the side of the truck, his arms folded across his chest, his eyes following your every step. You could tell by his rigid posture and stony expression that he heard what you and Scott said. You were about to give him a small wave to let him know everything was alright, but, before you could, Scott called after you.

“Hey! What is it that you want? An apology?” he shouted, his face turning slightly red. “You want me to say I’m sorry for getting angry that you showed up unannounced to where I work with the hope of just inserting yourself into the middle of a dangerous and highly complex situation? You want me to say I’ve learned my lesson after watching you throw yourself at Owens every chance you get? Hmm? That watching him jam his tongue down my little sister’s throat while broadcasting it to the entire fucking world showed me how wrong I was? Would that make you happy?”

Turning back around, you said, “I don’t want you to do anything unless you want to and you mean it. But, you know what—” you threw your arms into the air “—you were right.”

Scott’s eyes narrowed slightly as he examined you, searching for what kind of trick you were trying to pull now. “I was?”

“Yeah,” you said, nodding. “I shouldn’t have just showed up without asking first but I knew if I had, you’d have told me no. Well, actually, you’d have told me ‘fuck no’. So I figured it would be better to ask for forgiveness than permission and I just showed up. I did fall back on that self-centered, ‘everything works out for me’ person I once was and I’m sorry. It was exactly that behavior I came here to show you I had outgrown.”

Taking a few steps closer to your brother, you added, “But, Scott, let's be real. You wouldn’t have actually answered my phone calls or texts if I had tried to ask. We barely ever talk and the only times I see you are at Christmas, Thanksgiving, and, occasionally, someone’s birthday. But I wanted to change that. I wanted to try to rebuild this relationship before it was too late. Before we drift so far apart that there’s no finding a way back. I still want my big brother in my life, but now I’m afraid all I did was push you even further away.”

You waited for him to say something, to assure you he still wanted that too or that you had screwed things up past the point of redemption. But when he just stared at the ground with his jaw clenched, you nodded, wiping a tear from your cheek. “So, I promise, I’m done playing games or trying to force a relationship between us. I’ll stay out of your way as much as possible while I’m here but I’m not ready to leave yet. I know that may not be fair to you and I’m sorry. I’ll see about staying at a different motel than Storm PAR from now on—one less place for you to have to see me.” You turned to leave, but paused to add, “The next time I’ll contact you is right before I leave. That way you’ll know when I’ll be out of your hair. Until then, you have my number if you change your mind and want to talk.” Wiping a few more tears off your face as you walked away.

It hurt, being so vulnerable and laying out how you felt only to get absolutely no response in return. You hadn’t expected Scott to wrap you in a tight hug and promise things would be sunshine and rainbows from here on out, but you had hoped he would at least acknowledge your feelings in some way. But then again, this was Scott you were talking about. You couldn’t remember the last time he had ever given you a hug or compliment that he wasn’t forced into giving you. Maybe it was time to just let him go and stop trying to force something that was never going to happen. Maybe both of you would be happier in the long run.

As you neared, Tyler pushed off the side of the truck and asked, “Everything okay or do I need to step in?”

“Nah, we’re good. But thank you for offering.” You wrapped your arms around Tyler’s waist, leaning your head on his shoulder as he returned the embrace. Smiling into his chest, you said, “And thank you for not just coming over and jumping in when you saw things starting to get heated. Most guys I know would have barged over the minute they saw us and it would have turned into a huge fight. Instead, I was able to say some things that needed to be said.”

“I knew you could handle yourself.” He squeezed you tighter. Then he muttered, “Besides, I’m not most guys.”

“I’ve noticed,” you grinned as you recalled a similar conversation the two of you had the first morning he had picked you up at your room. “And I’m so grateful for that.” 

He kissed the top of your head then released you. “So, we ready to go?”

You nodded and he opened the passenger door to his truck. As he helped you in, you looked up to see Scott watching you. Since you had last seen him, he had slipped his sunglasses on so you had trouble reading his expression. You gave him a nod with a small smile but he just turned and disappeared behind Scarecrow. You felt Tyler squeeze your hand and knew he noticed the exchange as well. Taking a deep breath, you finished climbing in and settled into your seat. But as Tyler drove his truck from the parking lot, you couldn’t ignore the gnawing feeling in your gut that that might have been the last time you saw your brother for a long time.

Looking out the window, you stared at the empty fields whooshing past. Everything here was so open and untouched. Normally, you viewed it as a nice change from the crowded, bustling city you came from, but today, it just made you feel so small and alone. 

As if sensing what you were feeling, Tyler reached over and took your hand as he drove. You gave it a quick squeeze of acknowledgment but your eyes remained gazing out the window. Boone had opted to ride with Lily until you reached a potential storm, so the only sound that filled the cab was the soft droning of country music turned down so low you couldn’t make out any of the lyrics. It was a far cry from the joyous laughter and deep conversations the two of you usually shared on these rides, but with your talk with Scott running through your head, you couldn’t focus on much else.

After about twenty minutes, Tyler finally broke the silence. “Hey, something you said to Scott got me thinking…”

“Hmm?” You ran your finger over a smudge of dust on the passenger’s window. “About what?”

“Why don’t you stay?”

Snapping out of your ruminations, your head whipped around to look at Tyler. “W-what?”

“I mean, you’re only supposed to be here for another five days, right?” He shrugged, “But what if you stayed longer?”

You blinked, suddenly realizing you and Tyler had never talked about your upcoming departure or what that would mean for the two of you. “I-I guess I hadn’t really thought about it. Do…do you want me to stay?”

Tyler chuckled, “Sweetheart, I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want you to. I realize eventually this’ll have to come to an end or something’ll have to change, but I’d like to spend as much time with you as I can before that happens.”

“Oh.” You felt the heat rushing to your face and a smile creeping across your lips. “In that case, I mean, I have classes starting soon that I’d have to be back for. But, yeah, since you want me to, I think I could manage a week or so longer than I originally planned. I’ll just have to call and move my flight.”

“I’d really like that,” Tyler said with a grin. “And let me know what it costs to change it. I’ll take care of it.”

Tears filled your eyes. You had the money, it was not an issue. But Tyler’s offer just solidified in your mind how much he actually wanted you to stay. He wasn’t just suggesting it to cheer you up after talking to Scott—he meant it. 

With a slight tremble in your voice, you said, “Ty, I—”

“Hope I’m not interrupting you lovebirds, but Dex just spotted a potential cell to the east forming fast.”

Dani’s voice cut through the cabin. You knew Tyler’s radio had been switched off so no one heard what you had been talking about, but you still sunk back in your seat. 

Tyler shot you an apologetic look then switched on his radio and responded. “We copy. Let’s pull off up here. Dexter can show us where we’re heading, Lily, we’ll need you to get Cairo ready to fly, and Boone, come join us up here once we park. Sound good?”

“All good, boss,” came the echoed reply. 

Tyler switched the radio back off and glanced at you. “Anything else you wanna say before things get crazy or you wanna pick up this conversation later?”

“We can talk later. Thank you, Tyler.”

He squeezed your hand before turning his focus back to the road as he looked for a place to pull off. You leaned your head against the window and stared back out at the field, the gears already turning in your head. 

You didn’t want to talk. If today had shown you anything, it was that you were ready to show Tyler how you felt. 

No one commented or asked questions when Tyler informed the crew that they would be staying at a motel a little farther away than originally planned. You had been nervous about asking him to go to a different motel than Storm PAR, but apparently, he heard your promise to Scott and remembered without you having to say a word. Taking his hand from where it rested on the center console, you kissed the back of it before resting your cheek against it. Tyler glanced over at you and smiled, acknowledging your silent ‘thank you’.

Usually, Tyler walked you to your room as soon as the vehicles were parked and your bag was unloaded. However, tonight you insisted on staying downstairs to help everyone with their nighttime routines. Tyler seemed a little surprised but was more than happy for your company. He showed you all the checks he, Boone, and Dani ran on the truck each night to ensure everything was still functioning correctly. Lily let you help her charge up Cairo and download all the footage she captured today. And Dexter asked you to prep the food for breakfast in the morning. You never realized how much the Wranglers had to do each night while you sat alone in your motel room. But you promised to help out from now on.

When everything was finally done, Tyler grinned widely at you—his dimples on full display—and grabbed your bag. The two of you didn’t talk as he walked you to your room, but you snuggled close to him, listening to his heart beating beneath your cheek. 

Far too soon, you reached your room. Just like every night, you unlocked the door and Tyler handed you your backpack. However, tonight instead of keeping ahold of the bag, you tossed it inside the room, not bothering to look where it landed. 

Turning back to Tyler, you fluttered your eyelashes and asked, “So, Mr. Owens, care to join me inside?”

Tyler's eyes grew wide as he swallowed, his Adam's apple leaping in his throat. Stepping closer until he towered over you, he whispered, “Are you sure, sweetheart?”

You nodded, just a soft dip of your head. “I think it’s time I invited this cowboy in.” And you stepped back to give him space to enter the room. 

You knew it wasn’t your smoothest pick-up line, but when all you could think about was how much you needed him, you were surprised you could string a coherent sentence together. However, Tyler didn’t seem to mind. He hesitated for a second then stepped over the threshold into your room. 

Part 9 coming 10/7!

[iloveyanderes]

What I think of every bsd character (some of them I don't know so I'll be making wild guesses about them) also I got all these names off a wiki and sometimes there not exactly spelt right.

Fukuzawa: nice cat loving man who I respect

Yasano: best doctor in the world, would not recommend though

Atsushi: my cute little tiger boy🥺💕

Tanizaki:I kinda like to pretend he doesn't have a sister

Kunikida: dazais number one target

Kenji: adorable, would protect with my life

Kyouka: don't dislike I just don't really feel her

Dazai: suicidal maniac, best singer ever

Ranpo: I love him, smart but dumb, I would give him all of my food.

Katai: I have no idea who he is but he looks like he never leaves his bed

Naomi: I like to pretend she doesn't have a brother

Kirako: she looks nice

Mori: I fucking hate him, no pedophiles allowed near anyone

Elise: girlboss, someone get her the fuck away from Mori.

Ace: looks flashy

Chuuya: love him, small boy with nice hair and the best hat in existence

Rando: looks very random

Koyo: idk man, she looks powerful

Paul: where chuuya got his style

Akutagawa: in need of dazai approval

Higuchi: was annoying at first but she grew on me

Albatross: looks like he's constantly in a disco party

Doc: bad haircut supreme

Iceman: looks like a fireman

Lippmann: invests in great lips

Piano man: is great at playing the piano and knows it

Ryuro: this guy will die of lung cancer

Gin: is okay

Tachihara: I know who you really are

Karma: I know nothing about him except that Fyodor got to him

Yumeno: I'll stay on their good side

Kajii: I know he likes bombs and lemons

Oda: love him, fellow ginger, love his ability, without him this story would have never really began or at least Atsushi wouldn't be the Mc.

Ango: uhhhhhhhhh, cool I guess don't really like him

Scott Fitzgerald: the entire guild is probably his sugar baby

Poe: love Karl, fellow introvert, probably gets billions of dollars from writing x reader fanfics, I'd pay him any amount

Lovecraft: the only author I actually knew about before reading this book

John steinback: kinda looks like he could be kenjis distant cousin

Lucy: like her just not really attracted to her character

Margaret: I know nothing about this character but I despite the way her name is written, I prefer margrett it sounds more like it

Mark Twain: twains out of bad situations

Nathaniel: is more likeable because his name is closest to my fav boy name Nathan.

Fyodor: somehow I have a completely neutral opinion of him, I don't like or dislike him.

Nikolai: this may be bias but I absolutely adore white haired characters that have braids, there my type of people and I automatically like them, bonus points if there unhinged

Sigma: bro is the official Y/N I feel bad for him, the absolute shit he went through, also he has the best and most realistic facial expressions in all of bsd

Bram: I like him, I seriously hope him and that small red head gets a brother/sister relationship.

Oguri: studio bones got to him

Agatha: her name is like one step away from being majestic

Fukichi: bro is the reason why Kenji and Atsushi got hurt alot, not to mention he's planning world wide terrorism, and it was all because he got rejected by his childhood crush(this is totally what happened)

Teruko:my fav bsd character, love her absolute girlboss, pls I beg of you let me be your bestie, I will sell my soul

Jouno: pretty good, I love that he put others above his own self pleasures, also kinda terrifying in some manga panels and In others hes so cute

Tecchou: cute little boy, love him, also I ship him with jouno, it's mandatory if you enter this fandom, will probably end up being bestie with kenji

Aya: biggest girlboss in this entire series, hate her dad, she is best girl, if you dis her I will track you down and find you.

This is all the characters I got a the enger for, hope you enjoyed

[every-aj-needs-an-angel]

Based on this. I know I'm supposed to be working on my WIP but this just wouldn't leave me alone.

They met in Heaven. Steve was barely even old enough to be there, wide-eyed and in awe, like every baby gay that walked into the most prominent gay bar in England.

Eddie remembered the feeling well, it had only been a few years since he'd stood there for the first time himself but from his spot on the dance floor he could see the vultures circling. And just like looking like a tourist in the middle of Trafalgar Square, it's easy to end up in a bad situation if you're on your own and don't have a good poker face.

Eddie’s first time he'd been with Chrissy, his childhood best friend and given his mum insisted she move in with them after her dad had gone berserk when he'd caught her snogging Jessie, he supposed that also made her his sister. That's just how she was, his mum, just so full of love and kindness and generosity and for someone who'd been through all she had, it always amazed Eddie. His dad was AWOL, never even spoke to Uncle Wayne, they suspected he was in prison given the amount of time he'd been gone. Not that Eddie cared, his mum was his hero, hardworking, endlessly compassionate, staunch and all in all just out-of-this-world.

And between his mum and Wayne and Scott, Eddie and Chrissy had all the parents they were ever going to need. His uncles only lived two doors down, so the five of them ate dinner together most days, they were an amazing support for all of them, had been throughout Eddie's life. He knew how incredibly lucky he was to have them, hell he knew just how blessed he was just to have a family that accepted him. But the three of them loved so unconditionally, they made amazing role models, not just to him and Chrissy but to Scott's students too, the couple just wanted kids to grow up in a different world to the one they grew up in. 

So Eddie couldn't in all good conscious just stand there and let this little baby bird get swallowed up. He didn't even wait for the song to end, completely forgetting his dance partner Jack or James or whatever, he just dashed over all overly friendly, "Hey! Where've you been? We thought you weren't coming!" He was shouting absurdly loud but it did the trick, prying eyes slinking back into the shadows. 

Steve was initially confused but Eddie used the excuse of a friendly hug to tell him he was attracting all the wrong kinds of attention. In fact, Eddie's pretty sure he told him he was "far too pretty to stand in the middle of a gay bar gawping like a newbie" but it didn't matter, Steve had just been grateful to be rescued. 

He'd only just arrived in London, he didn't even know anyone in the city but he just couldn't sleep until he'd at least tried being in the club, Eddie didn't need to be a mind reader to see Steve had found whatever he was looking for. 

Eddie knew how important it was to have a community, especially for someone new to not only the city but to themselves (he'd always had Chrissy, she'd been by his side through all of it, just as he'd done for her, he wouldn't be him without her) so he'd taken Steve to meet Chrissy and Gareth and Jeff. 

They'd all hit it off immediately, Steve was a sweet little angel with a razorsharp tongue, what wasn't to like! The five of them were fast friends who spent every spare minute hanging out together, quickly becoming a group of six when Steve rescued Robin after she'd walked into Heaven doing the very same thing Steve had. And those two were insane, it was like they'd been separated at birth, Eddie was surprised to find out they didn't share actual brain cells.  

And god they were all just so close! They barely left each other's sight those first few years, they got jobs together, flats together, had dinner parties and sleepovers, went for coffee and on shopping sprees, Steve and Chrissy even went jogging together in the park when they weren’t too hungover from a night on the lash, they were settled in their domestic little London life. Looking back, the years spent in their tiny shitty flat was when Eddie was happiest, just the six of them, skint and hungover but full of life and completely content.

The girls were the first to fall in love, Eddie was unsurprised, he knew full well it'd been love at first sight for Chrissy, and from Steve's drunken ramblings (which was the only time he'd spill Robin's secrets) Eddie was pretty sure the same could be said for Robin. Jeff and Gare had been fuckbuddies for years but they finally got together after Jeff's particularly nasty breakup with Danny. Jesus H Christ! Gare had hated him! Basically from the moment he'd met the guy, it was speculation amongst the others as to whether it was a problem with Dan or a problem with someone else shagging Jeff. Things came to an explosive end when Dan cheated on Jeff, in the club bathroom of all places! Gare was about ready to take Dan outside, probably would've if Steve hadn't got involved until Jeff calmed him down enough to convince Gare to take him home instead. 

Eddie had fallen so gradually for Steve he hadn't really even noticed it was happening until they were in Heaven one night and the light caught Steve just at the right angle as he was dancing and the realisation just plonked itself down in Eddie's head and heart, like oh! Oh fuck, I'm in love with him. Not that Eddie ever told him that, of course, Steve had come back to Eddie sweaty and panting and Eddie for the first time in his life, he'd been completely speechless. Then Steve had kissed him playfully on the cheek as an excuse to steal his wallet and all Eddie could do was laugh as he disappeared into the crowd to buy another round.

And it was all going amazing until, just as Eddie was bucking up the courage to tell Steve that he was kinda sorta maybe in love with him, everyone's career started to take off.

A random audition landed Steve a place in a boyband, where godforbid anyone is openly queer, the girls started a tour, and a summer anthem flung him, Jeff and Gare into the stratosphere overnight. And it was fine, love confessions could wait, they had time, Steve's contract was only for two years and who knew how long their popularity would last, they could be a one-hit wonder for all he knew. So those first few years, the six of them just focused on the music and making sure not to party too hard. They all really thought they’d done it, they’d made it big and they were happy, but it didn't take long for the cracks to start showing and then quick as a flash everything started to crumble. 

Both he and Steve ended up solo acts, the boyband eventually running out of steam and his band ending when Jeff and Gareth imploded somewhere over the North Atlantic.

Not that it took long until they were back to being the best of mates though, with that much history you either part ways for life or you wiggle through the awkward stage and be the best friends you've always been. That's how Jeff described it anyway and given they both eventually met other people, and Gare's godfather to Jeff's little one (who's two going on eighty, Robin keeps calling them an old soul, he's never quite sure whether she means it literally or figuratively) Eddie's inclined to believe him.

Chrissy and Robin were the only two who actually managed to stay together, both musically and romantically; they're set to get married soon, he's happy for them, he is! And he's excited to walk Chris down the aisle, doesn't mean he also can't be a little jealous.

Because he and Steve, they're still acting like teenagers! Sneaking around, texting constantly, seeing each other whenever they can get five minutes on the same continent, and as much as Eddie still feels blissed out from their whole week together on an equatorial island in the middle of nowhere, being a teenager is only fun for so long.

Musically, it's going great! It is! He's producing bigger and better than ever, which'll happen when you're completely free of creative restrictions, and it's great, but sometimes there's such a thing as too much freedom and no-one's there to rein him in or talk some sense into him when he needs it.

Steve's also enjoying his solo career, he's bigger than ever, freer, his fans adore him, the general populous prefer his music now it's just him and none of them are surprised by how huge he's become, it's rare that someone so beautiful is also an absolute fucking gem as well as a creative genius.

So it's all going great! And Eddie looks forward to every second he gets to spend in Steve's arms, whether it's hours or days hauled up in a hotel room together (or on the luckier times, at home together). Because honestly there's no place he's happier than with his Sweetheart but he knows they can't have anything more, they can only ever have hidden moments and undeclared feelings, and it's kinda starting to feel like it's killing him because every time either of them leave, Eddie's leaving a little bit more of his heart with Steve.

And he isn't sure there's much left to give.

But the group are all still best mates, so he can't talk to any of them about it, can't talk to his manager because she's practically married to the guy who just also happens to be Steve's manager, can't talk to his therapist because they just come out with dumb comments like "why don't you just tell him how you feel?", can't even call home about it because they just want him to get down on one knee and propose and he can't tell anyone outside his immediate circle about how he's feeling because what if it gets out?

So he just does what he always has, he channels all these feelings into a cover of a song he hasn't been able to stop listening to since he first heard it because it's speaking to him and this is the only way to make it stop.

And when he steps off stage after its debut and he's met with nothing but a whole twenty-four hours of radio silence, it starts to make him nervous, then it makes him jittery and then it just makes him sad.

So he's alone in his hotel room, like he often is these days. The only thing he had planned for the evening was waiting for the videos to start pouring in from Steve's concert because his fans are wild in the very best way. And he can't blame them; he often feels the same way when he sees Steve perform and something about seeing the videos settles something in his feral goblin brain. 

He's just laying in bed, channel flipping, eating Doritos and generally feeling sorry for himself when Nancy (his manager) calls, tells him to get dressed now! Chrissy has tickets for a thing, which should've been a massive tip off because one, why wouldn't Chris just call herself? And two, why is Nancy, Queen of planning every last detail down to the milliseconds, being so damn vague? But the silence has him all off kilter so he just does as he's told on autopilot.

He's dressed and in a limo and outside the stadium Steve has sold out before he even has time to register what's happening. And the whole group are there and they all have VIP tickets and yet they've barely said two words to him.

Eddie wants to ask what the fuck is going on but he daren't, he's a strong believer in not asking questions you don't want the answers to and he feels like he really won't want the answer whether it's a good or bad one so he just follows quietly while they chat about the terrible two's and trying to deal with stroppy wedding planners.

Eventually, they get situated and then the concert starts and for the first few minutes, Eddie stays shell-shocked in his seat but Steve's voice wraps around him like silk, like it always does, and before he knows it they're all on their feet, dancing and singing along, having a whale of a time, it almost feels like everything's back to normal but then there's a costume change.

Steve comes out in his full Danny Zuko outfit that he'd worn that very first Halloween all those years ago, and of course he still looks as good now as he had then. Dare Eddie say he might even look a little better now that he's grown into all of his features, now he's a little more muscular and he's got the swagger of a man comfortable with himself and the way he looks. 

Everyone's going mental, his fans, the group, Jeff recognises the outfit first and starts ragging on Eddie, with full mimicry and big eyes "but Jeff didn't you see him, he's just so sexy!" making Eddie sound like the chick from Aqua. They'd all been hammered that night, Eddie's surprised he even remembers, can't deny it though, Steve had looked sexy, still does. Eddie'd take Steve over John Travolta any day of the week, but honestly he's kinda glad for the teasing, that's just Jeff's way of showing love and a bit of normality feels nice.

Especially because as he watches Steve strutting around the stage, chatting with fans and waiting for the screaming to die down, Eddie finds he's actually trembling. Then Steve speaks, settling thousands of people by just putting the microphone against his lips, like he's got them all under a spell and god it's so alluring Eddie's starting to feel a little hot under the collar. 

And then his words float across the stadium, "A special song, for the very special someone in my life. There seems to have been some miscommunication between us, so I'm hoping this'll make things clearer," he tells the crowd, turning his attention to the VIP seating, searching for him until their eyes meet, smiling the smile Steve only ever seems to have for him and Eddie just melts.

He recognises the song immediately, of course he does, he knows it inside and out, knows it in his very bones because they've watched this movie together a thousand times, in a thousand cities, howling along or turning the characters into muppets or impersonating other celebrities because what if so and so had played…? because when they're together they can just be themselves, they can laugh and be silly like they used to when they were younger but to Eddie it never matters how he's singing, Steve always sounds beautiful even when he's purposefully trying to sound terrible.

But right now he's just Steve singing a song to Eddie, for Eddie, completely from the heart, in front of thousands of people, in front of the whole world and Eddie can't breathe.

Because how stupid could he be? How could he have got it so wrong? His Steve, his beloved Stevie, his Sweetheart. The years they've spent together! And yeah, in the beginning, they'd both been with other people, but it never lasted because really for both of them, it's only ever been the other one, probably from that very first moment, so eventually they just stopped trying, stopped involving other people and were just them whenever they could find the time to be together. 

And yeah they never actually discussed being together and that clearly wasn't the smartest thing to do because that seems to be what's tripped them up because in private they're a couple in every way that matters. He's Steve's, it's just a fact of life. He thought Steve knew that!

Their family know that! They don't even have separate families, for god's sake, they might all have different surnames but whoever calls it's always "And how's Steve?" or "How's our boy?" like he's an extension of Eddie, like they're EddieandSteve. Even some of their fans have cottoned on, creating their own little subgroup, with cutesy names and "evidence" of the length and depth of their relationship.

It's only by the grace of god and Nancy and Jon's (Steve's manager) careful planning and scheming that means they've made it this long without the press finding out, he and Steve rolling around in bed laughing, the night after they've walked down a red carpet together, even having the audacity to hold hands sometimes and just howling at how clueless the tabloids are, because they've only ever been seen as bachelors, bros supporting one another and as Robin has pointed out on many occasion, it's ridiculous that so few people have spotted the ridiculously besotted, gooey eyes Eddie always has for Steve.

So they know they're not single but somehow they've both got their wires crossed because he somehow thought he was someone to keep Steve's bed warm and Steve has given him his heart and assumes Eddie doesn't want him! And how after all this time have they managed to get it so wrong?

The song ends and Eddie just flops into his seat and sits in wonderment, not really hearing and only seeing the tunnel vision of Steve doing his thing, just trying desperately to understand how he missed the signs that Steve loves him and how the hell he's going to untangle the mess he's made. 

But before he knows it the concert ends and he's no closer to an answer and he's so far up in his head Eddie doesn't remember much else, just flashes of moments. Chris' encouraging smile, Robin's curled lip, Gare's arm around him, being backstage, his phone vibrating in his pocket, knocking on the dressing room door.

Then it's all Steve, his tentative smile, the shine in his eyes, his hair still wet from the shower dripping onto his t-shirt making glistening trails down his neck. His damp collar, his arms around Eddie, the sandalwood of his products, peppermint toothpaste and that underlying something that's just Steve.

Quiet, hesitant greetings in the silence, Eddie just opening his mouth and letting it all out, everything he's been holding in for so long, apologies and admissions and declarations, finally ready for the chips to just fall where they may, and he knows he's rambling, can tell by the endeared look on Steve's face, by the way he runs his thumb over Eddie's bottom lip knowing full well it'll stop his blathering in its tracks.

Using the opportunity to lean in, bumping their noses together, knowing Eddie will close the gap, will chase his lips with his own, will be thoroughly distracted from his thoughts as his whole world becomes Steve, Steve, Steve. 

Eventually they come up for air, Eddie sitting in Steve's lap, content to rest their foreheads together, just feeling each other close and breathing the same air. Eddie, unable to stop playing with the still damp hair at the nape of Steve's neck, can't quite manage to wipe the stupid, lovesick grin off his face. 

It takes a moment to register what he's doing as Steve wiggles Eddie's continuously vibrating phone out of his pocket, it had been ringing for so long Eddie hadn't even really noticed it but no doubt it's driving Steve crazy. Steve hates phones, he makes them all put them in a bowl when they hang out together, only Jon is allowed anything to hide behind but that's because he and his DSLR are inseparable. 

It's his mum calling, Steve answers and she actually squeals! She loves Steve so much, she has from the moment they met, she treats him like he's her son and honestly if he didn't know that that's just the way she was he'd probably be a bit jealous, especially when he's only ever home for such short periods of time and her and Wayne sit around the breakfast table gushing over Steve's latest whatever, it drives him a little crazy.

Steve had barely been gone an hour the first time Eddie took him home for the weekend before they both started practically begging Eddie to marry him, they've only become more insistant since Chris and Robin's announcement, luckily Uncle Scott always has his back, rescues him from their tinkering with a "leave the boy alone, he'll ask him when he's ready" which is only somewhat helpful.

"So it's true?" she wants to know, Steve kisses Eddie's cheek, hums an affirmative and she screams so much Steve drops the phone onto the couch with a laugh, it goes on and on, like she's won the bloody lottery, the noise coming through the phone only interrupted by Charlie barking, confirming Eddie's suspicion that she's at Wayne and Scott's. Because he loves his family but they're abysmal when it comes to technology and thank god for Uncle Scott because he's the only one who can handle anything more complex than a TV remote.

And it hits him like a freight train because that means this whole thing was planned, and of course it was, he doesn't know why he's only just realising that, but it means that Steve heard him, that he saw and he heard and that this was his response.

It explains why Robin was so pissed, explains why no-one had anything to say because the whole group probably wanted to bang their heads together because what the fuck after all this time, how were they still not understanding each other?

And Eddie can't quite believe his luck, because they've had this massive communication hiccup but Steve just declared his devotion to him anyway, not only in front of his thousands of screaming, adoring fans but in front of the people who matter the most, because yeah the public finding out had been a sticking point once upon a time but none of that had ever really mattered.

Steve declaring his love to him in front of their loved ones though, even after Eddie's massive fuck up, even after he managed to get so stuck in his own head, even after he let that song corrupt what he knew in his heart, he just couldn't quite believe it. Steve's just…

Jesus H Christ!

He's everything!

"Marry me," Eddie blurts and Steve looks surprised for all of two seconds before he's nodding a watery kiss against Eddie's lips.

His mum starts screaming again, "He said yes, right? Eds! Eddie! Answer me!" Then there's the sound of the phone being handed to someone else, it's Wayne, "Eddie! Boy, answer your mother before she deafens us all!"

Eddie breaks away from Steve just enough to grumble "He said yes!" into the phone before turning the damn thing off. They’ve had enough distractions, enough time apart. For now, he just wants five minutes with his fiancé in his arms, before she calls Chrissy and the maniacs come piling in.

[roguestorm]

Do you have anyone you would ship Jean with that isn’t Scott or the Phoenix? If so, why? If not, why?

Last anon: And I totally mean “ship” in that you would like it to be canon /or/ you would like to see it in au of some sorts!

Absolutely! I'm always going to be for Jean/Scott first and foremost, but I am a multishipper and there are lots of people I think she would be fun with.

Probably the main one is Jean/Ororo, I love their canon friendship and I think they would be a really good couple. (I’m also into Scott/Ororo, so Jean/Scott/Ororo is good too.) I think they complement each other well in battle and out of it, where Ororo is more pragmatic and Jean is more optimistic but they have a shared vision of what they want the future to look like and the determination to get there. I also like that they do in canon have an intimacy that is easy to read as romantic. There’s a scene where Ororo is on the brink of death and Jean comes in to save her, but Ororo asks her to wait so that she can see her parents in the space between life and death, and then she introduces Jean to her parents. Jean is allowed to witness such an important reunion, and Ororo even invites her to do so, because they are extremely close and important to each other. In the drama of their lives, they provide a space to be quiet together, and I think that’s a really solid foundation for a ship.

Jean/Wanda is also good, more for what I’ve seen the fandom do with it than for anything in canon (although their friendship in XMFC is adorable). The aesthetics of it, too, are just amazing, they’re both incredibly powerful women with space-y aesthetics. And they’ve both done things that they really do regret but they’re moving on from them and they refuse to let them define them. Jean-and-Wanda-raise-the-twins AUs are always going to have a special place in my heart.

Jean/Bishop kind of came out of nowhere and surprised me, but I’m not opposed to it. Bishop has the kind of unflinching morality that Jean finds so attractive in Scott (although Bishop’s code of ethics is different from Scott’s), and for Bishop I think Jean has a hope/optimism that is good for him. I doubt we’ll ever see anything more done with this couple, but like I said, I’m open to it for sure.

Then there are a whole bunch of guys where I’m like, okay, in another life, I guess this could’ve happened. Warren’s the most obvious one, but also I think it would be interesting to see her with Gambit or Kurt or Hank. (I didn’t really like the teen!Jean/Hank plot; I am talking about other universes here.) I feel like it would be easy to be like, yeah, in this alternate universe something happened and Jean and Scott didn’t end up together, so she’s with [other X-Men member she has a decent relationship with] and that’s just a thing that everyone’s used to.

With Warren, they are like probably quietly going through a divorce that they don’t want anyone to know about because they’ve always been the face of the X-Men and the rock on which everyone else depends but they’re really better off as friends. With Hank, it depends on which Hank we’ve got. Classic Hank, he and Jean are very dramatic all the time and have several elaborate rituals that everyone else finds disgustingly affectionate. With modern Hank, we get a seriously preachy Jean who is always 0.2 seconds away from giving him a lecture on why locking people up without trial is Bad, Actually. With Kurt, they both have heavy subtext with Logan (listen. I hate Jean/Logan but I’ll allow it in the context of this specific AU) but mostly Kurt always catches her in his arms when she’s about to fall and smiles his most charming smile and then teleports her to safety and she always gets super mad and goes full godmode when anyone hurts her boyfriend. With Gambit, I think you have to go full nineties with the characters. He does not have half of the growth that our Gambit has had and she is in her least subtle and most dramatic characterization. They fight regularly and then passionately make up only when one of them gets into danger. (As you can tell, I don’t take any of these ship opportunities particularly seriously.)

My problem is that if Jean and Scott are anywhere near each other in a story, I want them to be together. I think they exist, naturally, at the center of each others’ stories, and it’s really hard for me to entertain the thought of other Jean ships when Scott is in the picture. 😭 This may be indicative that there is something Wrong With Me, but mostly I just think that from the beginning, Jean and Scott’s stories have always been written to be about both of them together, and so their relationship is very fundamental to the characters they are today, and I want to continue their character growth together. I love characters whose narratives are inseparable.

Thank you for the question! =D

[keysmashingfantasies]

An Old Fashioned Meet Cute

A/N: hi! this is my first fic here and i hope you like it. comments and constructive criticism is very much appreciated just please be nice and i tried not to describe nor reader nor the Hilda character too much apart from the fact that they are plus size so it can cater to more people (altough the Hilda character is a white woman originally, I left that out because I wanted everyone to be able to read it) :D. and a huge thank you to @divine-mistake for encouraging me to make this blog and post my fics. ily Tay <3, this one's for you.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!plus size Reader

Word count: 2.1k

Summary: Bucky didn’t remember much of his life before the war. Not as much as he would like, anyway. But he was content to at least have remembered something. The memories of his teenage shenanigans with Steve always made him laugh. But there was a memory that he didn’t even know it was on his mind until that day when he accompanied Steve to the thrift shop. And until an Avengers party, where he met you.

-

“Steve, come on… Shouldn’t you be showing me the wonders of the modern world?”, he mocked. He knew Steve was doing his best, he did. But he knew that this wasn’t just a friends’ afternoon. And Bucky didn’t need a babysitter.

“I will! I just thought it would be nice to see something less overwhelming first and Sam told me a thrift store would be a nice place to start. Most of this stuff is new to us anyway”, Steve said, picking up a CD of a shelf.

“Yeah, ok”, he mumbled. The things he did for Steve. He mindlessly wandered through the little cluttered store, browsing the shelves full of knick knacks. He saw vinyls, old books, a great variety of toys, some paintings and an old fashioned vanity, with an old mirror, a few vintage perfume bottles, and… Oh.

“Steve?”, he said, picking up the old calendar that was propped up against the stained mirror. Carefully, he lifted the calendar up, looking at his friend. He had seen it before, he knew he did. He flipped through it as he waited for Steve to make his way across the store, careful to not bump in any of the tables containing delicate porcelain tea pots. His eyes scanned through the cover, a delicately painted picture of a curvy woman and with the saying “HILDA, 1940’s calendar” in bold red letters above it.

“Oh wow”, Steve let out a belly laugh. “You remember when we stole some of these? Man, we even took these to war”, he said. He started to remember. Him and Steve running, each one with a calendar in hand, flipping through the pages, Steve whining that he would never find a girl like that. He didn’t even think twice before taking it to the counter, with Steve giggling like a school girl behind him.

“For the memories, punk”, he said in a stern voice and a frown, but with pink dusted cheeks.

“Of course”, Steve said in a mocking voice.

-

“So, Tony’s throwing a party next weekend”, Steve said as he entered the training room.

“I prefer the thrift store”, Bucky mumbled, without tearing his eyes from the punching bag.

“Come on, Buck. I think it will be good for you to go”, Steve said. “It will be something small, Tony will introduce the new team assistant, so no eyes will be on you”, that got Bucky’s attention.

“Small?”, he said, pushing his hair from his face.

“Very”, Steve assured, but he had that look that Bucky knew very well from his young years; the look he would get when he was about to pick a fight. He was up to no good. But he didn’t want another trip to a dusty thrift store.

“Yeah, sure”, he mumbled.

-

You were shaking in your boots. Yeah, you knew that you would work for them, which meant that you inevitably would have to attend this kind of things. But this wasn’t like your former office jobs, no. You work for the Avengers now.

“You can do this. You have to. Do it for the paycheck”, you said, trying to reassure yourself as you shakily applied mascara. As you browsed through your wardrobe, you let out a sigh. You remembered shyly asking for advice on what to wear from Natasha, but you took it with a grain of salt. She could wear a potato sack and still look gorgeous, and you were… Well, a potato. You knew this was another test. If you couldn’t handle all eyes on you and the eventual bickering that was about to happen, you were not fit for the job. But damn, you at least expected a few weeks of taking care of documents and serving coffee before a party. In a room. With the, quoting the tabloid you read that very morning “super team that saves the world and looks hot doing it!”. You were a pretty confident person. But this… Anyone would be nervous.

“You can do this”, you told yourself one more time before heading out.

-

When you got to the party, not everyone was there. You politely greeted everyone with a nod, and gave your name to the ones you didn’t have the pleasure to meet yet.

“You, pick your poison”, Tony Stark pointed at you while walking to the bar.

“No, thank you, Mr. Stark, I won’t be drinking tonight”, you managed to say, silently thanking all the gods above (even the one that was sitting not too far from you) that you managed to hold back the quiver in your voice.

“She doesn’t want to be vulnerable around us. Smart, I like her”, said Natasha. Sometimes you wonder if she was a telepath like Wanda.

“Is there anything wrong, Y/N? I sense that you are uneasy”, asked Vision, with those glassy unblinking eyes. You wondered if he was in your mind that very moment.

“Gee, I wonder why”, said Rhodes, before taking a sip of his drink.

“I’m okay, just… A bit nervous, that’s all”, you said.

“Well, then you definitely need a drink”, said Tony, handing you a glass of champagne that no doubt cost the same as your previous paycheck.

Soon enough, the awkwardness made way to pleasant conversation. You laughed as you listened to their banter. It wasn’t like any business party you ever attended. No, it was more like a family gathering than anything.

The sounds of the elevator doors opening caught you attention as three men wide as refrigerators walked in, followed closely by a pretty young woman. Of course you knew them. You read all about them. Especially The Winter Soldier, the little devil on your shoulder taunting you by remembering you of every single time you talked to your friend about your crush on him.

“Sorry we’re late guys, Steve went to pick me up before the party and we had dinner”, said the blonde, linking her arm with Steve Rogers himself.

“Nah, Sharon, don’t cover his ass. We were late because the three of us had to wrestle Barnes into changing out of that old ass Henley”, said Sam.

Instantly, Tony and Natasha cheered and raised their glasses, making you laugh.

“Yeah, yeah, very funny”, said a gruff voice coming from the bar, making you turn your head, seeing Bucky Barnes open a beer bottle with his vibranium hand. 'How did he sneak past everyone?', your thoughts were interrupted as you took him in. You wanted to personally thank Sam, Steve and Sharon for making him wear that tight fitting black shirt.

“Well, Y/N, here’s Capsicle, Mrs. Capsicle, New Captain, and Snowflake. Guys, this is Y/N, the new assistant. Oh, and there’s Spider Boy but he’s on curfew, Strange had to hop out of the dimension and Scott but he’s… He’s somewhere out there being small, I don’t know. Watch were you step, just to be safe”, said Tony

“Hi”, you gave a shy wave, being greeted right back.

-

If it wasn’t for the serum, Bucky is absolutely sure he would have a heart attack on the spot. You were wearing red heels, a form fitting black pencil skirt and a white button up blouse and he could see your curves, your strong arms, your thighs. You looked absolutely amazing. You look like one of the girls that Bucky would’ve rushed to ask for a dance back in the day. But what really made him stare is the fact that your body type looked eerily similar to the character of the calendar he spent an embarrassing amount of time staring.

As your eyes scanned the room as you were bombarded with questions, Bucky made sure to avoid your gaze, looking everywhere but your face: his shoes, the ceiling, the armrest on the couch, Steve’s shit eating grin. Oh. So THAT’S what it was about. Little shit.

Even avoiding your gaze, he made sure to keep his ears open. A man could be interested, right?

.

By the time the party ended, Thor and Bruce were sleeping, Tony was buzzed walking around singing Iron Maiden, Natasha and Sharon were talking, Steve and Sam were giggling like two school girls, Rhodes went home and Vision and Wanda were talking and looking out the window to the New York skyline.

Which left you – and Bucky – alone.

“Uhhh. I guess I’ll start cleaning, then”, you said. Your face was on fire. The only person that you were sure didn’t like you and you were awkwardly standing, not knowing where to look and what to say. It didn’t help that you were attracted to him but damn it, you were not going to lose this opportunity because of a school girl crush. So you decided to keep yourself occupied by taking some empty glasses and bottles from the table and taking them to the kitchen.

“Oh, come on, Y/N! Let the cleaning crew deal with this in the morning!”, said Natasha.

“No, no, I don’t mind. I like to keep myself busy”, you said with a smile. Technically, it wasn’t a lie. You only hoped she couldn’t see how awkward you were.

“I’ll help”, he said, picking up some glasses and following you.

“You can pick up more of these glasses and I can start washing them”, he said. “I- I noticed you got your nails done, so…”, he said, and you shyly looked away while thanking him and making your way out of the kitchen.

.

In no time, the room was getting emptier. Vision and Wanda went home and Thor took Banner back to New Asgard. And you were almost done with the dishes, having also gotten rid of most of the empty food containers. As you both cleaned, you and Bucky got a bit more comfortable with each other.

“I’m sorry for seeming a bit standoffish earlier”, he said suddenly. “I’m not used to parties and I don’t know how new people will react to me. Especially pretty women”, you smiled at the compliment, but felt your heart ache. You were so caught up in your insecurities that you didn’t even consider his side of things.

“You don’t have to be sorry. I don’t know how you feel but by what I’ve seen and heard, you have a family here. You’re out there fighting to save the world. Trying your best. This is redemption enough, don’t you think?”, you said as you put the glasses to dry, missing the awestruck look that Bucky sent you, a goofy smile making its way into his features. “Okay, you wait here and I’ll get what’s left”.

You were back in no time. “Okay, so just more two champagne flutes and one plate left”, you said but before you could give the dishes to Bucky, you slipped, and if it wasn’t for Bucky’s reflexes, you would’ve fallen hard. You yelped as the sound of breaking glass hit your ears and for a second you two just stared at each other, before Bucky pulled you closer and back to a standing position.

“Thanks”, you said as he helped you straighten up.

“Your ankle, does it hurt?”, he said.

“Uh, no, I don’t think so”, you said.

“Ah, I think it does. And I can’t let a dame go home alone on a hurt ankle”, he said, giving you a dashing smile.

“You know what, now that you’ve said it, it hurts really bad”, you said, catching on. “You know what’s amazing for a bad ankle?”, you asked, and the gentle smile in your lips and the mischievous glint in your eyes made his heart piston inside of his chest.

"What?", he said softly, stepping closer, like you were sharing secrets.

“Ice cream and a walk on the park. Very therapeutical”, you said, making Bucky laugh.

.

Before you knew it, Bucky had already scooped you up into his arms and rushedly announced that you had slipped and fell, whisking you away into the elevator.

“Dude, that took all night”, said Sam. “This is the smooth guy you told me about?”, he said, while Steve and Sharon laughed.

While everyone got ready to go home, Scott came out of the kitchen in his Ant-Man suit eating some leftovers.

“Someone owes me 20 bucks for making her trip”.

[thevindicativevordan]

On Livewire

You know Leslie is probably the most popular and well known female Superman Rogue mainly because they use her so heavily in outside media.

Which makes sense given her debut in Superman: The Animated Series, but it still kind of fascinates me. They didn't bring her into comics continuity until 2006 apparently, with Gail Simone and John Byrne (Byrne of all the creators!) being the ones to finally fold her in. Even after they brought her in, they still have never given her that much attention or focus which is a disappointment for me frankly, because Livewire is honestly fantastic in Scott McCloud and later Mark Millar's Superman Adventures runs, and I would say with complete sincerity that those two are probably her best writers. "Millar writing a female character well?" you scoff at in disbelief. I know, I was shocked too! But she's funny, clever, and a huge pain in the ass for Supes. Reading how she was used there, and rewatching her STAS incarnation recently, really made a big realization for the character hit me like a lightning bolt (couldn't resist):

She's basically an evil superpowered Lois Lane! I know I can't have been the first one to realize that, although I haven't seen anyone else actually outright state it anywhere, but c'mon it's so obvious! She's a reporter of a sorts as well thanks to being a disc jockey, her debut in STAS even has her interviewing Lois and Clark! She's got strong opinions on Superman that conflict with the general opinion about him (Lois being pro-Superman when everyone else is more hostile towards him at first, Livewire being anti-Superman when everyone else has embraced him as their hero). She's rude and abrasive, and doesn't care if her opinions offend people, which sure does remind me of Lois at her meanest.

Livewire to me is an examination of what Lois would be like if she abandoned her morals or never really had them in the first place. Leslie doesn't care about the "truth" which is the big difference between her and Lois. Lois can be headstrong, willful, and outright rude, but it's all in service of her pursuit of higher ideals. Livewire doesn't care about that, she carries about getting people to pay attention to her, and getting the recognition and wealth she believes she's owed.

What I'd Do With Livewire

It wasn't until I had that big realization about Leslie that I figured out what role she should play with regards to Clark: She should be Clark's old college ex who was the one who got him into journalism in the first place.

Clark's college years are unexplored territory narratively, typically we jump from his childhood in Smallville right into his debut in Metropolis. Now I know Clark dated Lori that mermaid back in Pre-Crisis during his college years, and while that's a fun bit of trivia, it doesn't really add anything meaningful in the same way that I think Leslie and Clark dating could. So I'd rather go with Leslie because I think she makes for a better foil for Clark and because the two of them would benefit from having a deeper connection established, plus Leslie could get fleshed out as a character more.

I like the explanation that Clark chose journalism in part because it challenges him in ways his powers can't, but in the comics they've rarely bothered to explain how he chose that field in the first place. I would have meeting Leslie at college be that big moment where he starts to figure himself out. She's assertive and confident, and Clark is attracted to that for similar reasons he's attracted to Lois. Leslie would start out as an optimist and idealist in the same way Clark is, and the two would bond and go into journalism together, with Leslie being the one who really believes in the field initially. They'd both be big believers in the duty of the press to inform and the presses ability to shape public opinion, with Clark attracted to investigative journalism and Leslie attracted more to broadcast and digital journalism. They start to date and for a moment, Clark seriously wonders if this is the one.

The big break between them comes when Clark and Leslie go on a trip around the world during their senior year of college. That trip would be where both of them learn how crappy the world is. Clark always had some idea of how bad things were because of his powers, but the trip is where he really starts to realize that there is a real need for someone of his powers to step up, and that there are hard limits to just how much he can accomplish as a member of the press. That same realization is what shatters Leslie's idealism and optimism. She loses faith in the ability to make a difference, to punch through the wall of public indifference, and as a result she gives up that dream. Instead she decides that if you can't beat them, join them: she switches instead to telling the masses what the powers that be want them to hear in exchange for money, to saying whatever the masses will give her attention and prestige for, embracing tabloid journalism that prioritizes clicks and engagement over information. Ultimately it destroys the relationship between Leslie and Clark with her viewing him as a sap and him viewing her as a sellout.

I think that origin really would help flesh out her worldview and motivation a lot more. She's a former idealist who has been broken by the world in a similar way to Poison Ivy. Leslie thus acts as a foil to Clark and Lois in that she's someone who let the world rob her of her idealism and sold out on the truth in exchange for material success. She's what Clark or Lois could've been if they took Lex's offer to work for him, and they should recognize that to some degree. Clark should have conflicting feelings for her, not romantically that relationship is dead, but in terms of sometimes he wonders if he's just wasting his life trying to fight for truth and justice. So few people seem to care about those principles, why hold on so tight to them? Why not just look out for his own self-interest the way everyone else seems to? It's the refusal to give up even when it looks pointless that makes the two of them different, and makes Clark a hero and Livewire a villain.

How I'd Like Livewire To Operate

There's a lack of imagination in how Livewire is used on the comic side as I see it.

Like most Superman Rogues the typical Superman writer doesn't seem to have a clue what to do with her beyond generic "villain" stuff, but that does a disservice to what Livewire brings to the table. Livewire does want to fry Superman to a crisp, but that's not what her daily goal is to accomplish. More importantly, she wants respect and she wants money, and the way she gets both is not by trying to rob banks, it's by leaning into her background as a media personality combined with her new powers. Unleashing electric bolts is honestly the least impressive part of her powerset in terms of her ability to manipulate anything and everything technology.

The Internet? Livewire can crash the entire thing with ease, or restrict access to portions of it. She can do the reverse and smash through firewalls and encryption like it's made of paper. Imagine Livewire shutting off the power grid or causing it to explode, secretly using your "smart" tech to record your every move, uploading ransomware to every piece of technology in Metropolis, emptying the bank accounts of anyone who annoys her, or bringing Metropolis to it's knees thanks to the "City of Tomorrow" being a test ground for the Internet of Things, so everything is connected and thus easily manipulated. Smart cars crash into each other, elevators randomly drop, trains are unable to stop and simply accelerate onward unceasingly, plans attempting to land find their instruments on the fritz, anything and everything is Livewire's to control. But terrorism, while entertaining and occasionally profitable, isn't Livewire's main focus either.

One of my favorite Superman Adventures stories with her had Livewire manipulating TV broadcast signals so that any time there was a male news reporter on screen, the signal wouldn't come through. Stuff like that, where Livewire is making life hell for people in a way that isn't immediately life-threatening is what I envision as her day to day operations, but her bread and butter is fake news. What Livewire is REALLY good at doing is manipulating the public due to her journalism background plus her powers. She can make fake videos that look totally authentic, fake articles that seem to come from credible sources, fake voice recordings, she can make anyone appear to do or say anything through the Internet, and then she can upload that to the devices of every single person in Metropolis.

You can get stories about the mayor being framed for taking bribes, local activists cast as grifters, and supposed upstanding citizens such as Lois Lane and Clark Kent appearing to take orders from criminals like Intergang on what stories to run. Basically you lean into the journalism aspect for Livewire stories where Clark and Lois have to investigate to see whether what Livewire is putting out there is fake or legit, with peoples lives and reputations at stake (including frequently their own).

And when Superman and Livewire actually do clash physically? I don't care how it gets justified, Livewire simply being that powerful, her lightning being "special", she has the ability to manipulate Superman's bioelectric field, whatever: she can hurt him. When she hits Supes with lightning, it burns. It's painful as all hell. Livewire needs to be a threat and I'd like her to be treated as a powerhouse since I don't see a reason why that shouldn't be the case. Livewire is a really cool Rogue, there's a reason she's managed to keep getting used long after the DCAU ended. I hope the comics creators start utilizing her to her full potential.

[writer-ish]

Hi Kat! Here are this week's questions for E x B!

Not Yet Wed Questions

Note: Great Scott! This week, we are going back in time to MC’s intern year. Think of Ethan’s relationship with them at this point and answer the following questions accordingly. It is entirely up to you when in year 1 this takes place (pre/post Miami, pre/post CH 15, etc). Feel free to answer with dialogue or pictures or both :) Have fun!

No worries. All of this is off the record and HR will never know!

The setting for this answers is:

For Both

When I first saw them, I thought__________

What is your coworker's most used swear word?

Quick: What color are their eyes?

Three people at work your coworker hates?

What is your coworker’s strangest or most endearing quirk?

If they had a crush on anyone at work, who would that be?

(Bonus round! Feel free to skip.)

Never have I Ever:

come into work hungover

had a fistfight

been kicked out of a bar

gotten a tattoo

broken someone’s heart

been in love

For MC (Ethan is not there)

Where do you see him in five years (both professionally and in his personal life?)

What do you find the most impressive about him?

Last thing he texted you?

If he asked you out on a date, what would you say?

For Ethan (MC is not there)

Where do you see her in five years (both professionally and in his personal life?)

What specifically do you find attractive about her?

Last thing she texted you?

If she asked you out on a date, how would you respond?

Thank you to @jamespotterthefirst for humouring me and sending me these questions. I hope that it will help with my OPH/writing rut! I'm so excited to answer them for Brooke x Ethan. 🥰

The setting is: post-Dolores/the Naveen reveal, but pre-Miami.

Let's get started!

INT. COFFEE SHOP - MID-AFTERNOON

Two doctors sit at a small table. One has her leg crossed, foot swinging lightly. Her face is open and slightly amused. The other has his hands clasped loosely between his open legs. He is blatantly less impressed than his colleague.

Ethan: This is ludicrous.

Brooke: [laughs lightly] Can't you just humour them?

Ethan: Last time I checked, we had a job that didn't involve answering foolish questions for some sophomore publication.

Brooke: They want to humanize the doctors in the hospital. Make us more… approachable. It's not a bad idea.

Ethan: [in a low grumble] I don't want to be approached or humanized.

Brooke [loud laugh] Shocker.

Are we all set to begin?

Brooke: [clears throat] Er, yes. Sorry.

Ethan: [glares]

For Both

When I first saw them, I thought ____________

Brooke and Ethan: [look at each other for a beat, then speak simultaneously]

Brooke: Well, I— Ethan: She, uh—

Ethan: [clears throat] You go first.

Brooke: [shoots him a look] Well. I, uh, was taken aback by your presence.

Ethan: What does that mean?

Brooke: Well, you know, you're very—you command a room, let's just say. And then you got awfully bossy, but it was good because I was panicking. And, uh—that's pretty much it. Your turn.

Ethan: I thought she was very young and inexperienced. And I was proven correct almost immediately.

Brooke: [elbows him] Can't you say something nice?

Ethan: You said commanding and bossy!

Brooke: It was a compliment!

Ethan: Fine. She was…surprisingly competent for an intern.

Brooke: [sarcastically waves a hand in front of her face] My goodness, I'm swooning.

What is your coworker's most used swear word?

Brooke and Ethan: "Fuck."

Brooke: It's not very professional, but—

Ethan: —it is necessary at times. Although I did hear another one from you the other day that I quite enjoyed. "Son of a whore", was it?

Brooke: [blushes] Whoops.

Ethan: You're lucky there weren't any patients around.

Brooke: [innocently] Patients don't swear?

Ethan: [withering look] I'll let you know when patients need to be held to the same professional standards as the doctors who treat them.

Brooke: Well, whatever. I was in the supply closet anyway and it was because I had gotten a cardboard papercut, which is notoriously the worst kind of papercut—[suddenly eyes him suspiciously] I didn't even know you were there.

Ethan: [coughs] I was, uh, walking past when I heard your inappropriate outburst and I stopped to ensure it wasn't a wayward psychiatric patient lost amongst the halls.

Brooke: [dryly] Hilarious.

Quick: What color are their eyes?

Brooke: Oh, blue. Blue-blue. Like, a very crystal clear blue.

Ethan: I think we get it. Brooke's eyes are hazel but they err on the side of green.

Brooke: "Err on the side of green"?

Ethan: Yes. Like when you wore that sweater the other day, they appeared more— [clears throat] I'm not going to sit here and explain the illusion of refractory light. Next question.

Three people at work your coworker hates?

Brooke: [dryly] Just thr—?

Ethan: [cuts her off] Yes, yes, we get the joke, I hate everyone. Brooke on the other hand, hates no one. I believe she should be more discerning.

Brooke: You would.

What is your coworker’s strangest or most endearing quirk?

Ethan: Endearing? I—

Brooke: Oh, oh—the tie thing!

Ethan: The… tie thing?

Brooke: You do this thing when you're trying to get your emotions under control. It's like a [presses thumb against her other fingers in a crab-claw gesture] grab all the way down and then a flat palm just to smooth it again. [mimics a smoothing gesture down the front of her shirt, keeping her face pinched and stoic]. The "double-tie-grab-and-smooth" is what I call it. As of two seconds ago.

Ethan: Fascinating. As for Brooke, I can think of two.

Brooke: Here we go.

Ethan: The first is to ensure she never borrows your pen, as it will be returned to you as though someone inserted it into a pencil sharpener. I don't know how she isn't covered in ink constantly, the way she gnaws on the ends so violently.

Brooke: First of all, it's not that bad. Secondly, [mumbles] I have had a pen or two explode on me.

Ethan: I am extremely unsurprised. And the second is the sheer number of cardigans left everywhere - around my office, the faculty room, patients' rooms, and so on. She leaves them like breadcrumbs in a children's fairytale.

Brooke: [laughing too hard to speak]

Ethan: Yes, very funny and professional.

Brooke: [still laughing] Could you at least…grab one…next time you see it? I'm running low!

Ethan: What a surprise.

If they had a crush on anyone at work, who would that be?

Ethan: [scoffs] A "crush"? The very concept of a 'crush' is extremely juvenile and I refuse to pander to such incongruous—

Brooke: Dr. Harper Emery

Ethan: [splutters] I beg your pardon?

Brooke: [smirks]

Ethan: Well, yours would be that scalpel jockey surfer boy that's always mooning over you.

Brooke: [turns to him, aghast] Bryce? I don't have a crush on him! And neither does he. On me, I mean.

Ethan: On you, indeed.

Brooke: What's that supposed to mean?

Ethan: Hmm? Oh, nothing. Simply that the way he pressed you to the floor in the observation room of Surgery B would say otherwise, that's all.

Brooke: [blushes deeply] You saw that?

Ethan: I see everything, Rookie.

[There is an extended, awkward silence.]

Never Have I Ever:

Ethan: What is this now?

Brooke: [hides a smile] It's a game. A drinking game. You really don't know it?

Ethan: If you're asking if I'm familiar with a college-level excuse to get sauced and forget about my classes for the next week, then no. I don't know it.

Brooke: [rolls her eyes] It's simple. They ask a question. If you've done it, you take a drink. If you haven't, you don't. And [lightly swings her take-out coffee cup in his face] I don't think you'll get drunk on herbal tea, so you'll be fine.

Okay, let's begin. Never have I ever…

...come into work hungover

Brooke and Ethan: [take a drink]

Brooke: Really?

Ethan: I wish I could affect the same level of surprise for you.

...had a fistfight

Brooke and Ethan: [take a drink]

Ethan: [raises an eyebrow at Brooke]

Brooke: [shrugs] Rowdy childhood.

Ethan: [nods] Same. [coughs] Perhaps… rowdy adolescence. And, uh, [another light cough] early adulthood, as well.

Brooke: Dr. Ramsey!

...been kicked out of a bar

Ethan: [takes a drink]

Brooke: Oh?

Ethan: That rowdy early adulthood I spoke of? Yeah.

Brooke: Ah.

...gotten a tattoo

Brooke: [avoids eye contact, takes a drink]

Ethan: [turns to her swiftly, looking shocked, then quickly composes himself] Let me guess - dolphin on your ankle?

Brooke: Shut up.

Ethan: Christ, am I right?

Brooke: No, but you might as well be.

Ethan: [laughs, which seems to surprise them both, then clears his throat] We all have regrets, Dr Spiers.

Brooke: [grimaces and slouches in her seat]

Ethan: [stares at her for a beat longer than necessary, before leaning back in his chair with a thoughtful expression]

...broken someone’s heart

Ethan and Brooke: [quickly look at each other; neither drinks]

Brooke: No? You?

Ethan: What's that supposed to mean?

Brooke: Just surprised all this [gestures vaguely at his face] didn't get the ladies all worked up in—where are you from?

Ethan: Rhode Island. And no, "all this" [gestures to his own face] took awhile to grow into itself, I assure you.

Brooke: [laughs] Oh, big same.

Ethan: [gives her a sidelong glance, a soft smile playing at his lips]

...been in love

Brooke: [takes a drink]

Ethan: Really?

Brooke: What, it's so hard to believe?

Ethan: Well, you said you'd never broken someone's heart.

Brooke: [smiles at him softly, a bit sadly] Never said my heart hadn't been broken, Dr Ramsey. Some people are the heartbreakers, some are the broken-hearted.

Ethan: [splutters] Preposterous.

Brooke: [looks surprised] What is?

Ethan: That you—I mean, that is—that someone— [he pauses, fidgeting with his tie before smoothing it down] It's his loss, Rookie. [clears his throat, looking away]

Brooke: [smiles, bemused yet pleased, a warmth in her eyes] Thank you, Dr Ramsey.

For Brooke (Ethan is not there)

Where do you see him in five years (both professionally and in his personal life?)

Oh, [scoffs out a laugh] wherever he wants to be. He's Ethan freaking Ramsey. He can do whatever he wants. What's the highest position in the hospital? Chief of Medicine? That. [Thinks for a moment] Well, no, actually. He probably wouldn't want to be admin. But whatever he could do that would still have him on the ground, helping people, at the highest level of expertise - that's where he'll be.

And, uh, personally?

Oh. Well. [fidgets, looks away]. I'm sure I don't know. Probably married to some supermodel who will put up with him never being home and always being reticent and grouchy. [Laughs humourlessly]

What do you find the most impressive about him?

Oh gosh. [Pauses] Probably how much he cares. I know you see him now and you think, god, what an asshole. And you're not wrong. But the truth is, he has to maintain this facade of a huge, unfeeling jerk, because the fact of the matter is he cares so deeply. [Her expression goes distant and soft]. Honestly, he cares so much I'm worried it will be his downfall one day.

Last thing he texted you?

[Laughs] He hates texting. But I think it was, "What time is this - redacted - thing again"?

If he asked you out on a date, what would you say?

Ah… [laughs uncomfortably] What, like, right now? The way we are? Or as two… random people in a bar?

Right now. The way you are.

[Blushes and continues to laugh awkwardly] Is he—you said he won't see these?

No, this part will be anonymous and the information gathered will be for statistical purposes, not anecdotal.

[Fake bravado affectation] Oh, well, if it's for statistics— [pauses] I would say yes. In a heartbeat. I would say yes. [Smiles, almost apologetically] I mean, have you seen him?

For Ethan (Brooke is not there)

Where do you see her in five years (both professionally and in his personal life?)

Wherever she wants to be. She's a highly motivated and intelligent individual. I give her a hard time, because I see great potential in her and feel as though, as her mentor, she should be pushed to achieve the pinnacle of success. Which is undoubtedly capable of.

And personal?

I don't presume to know what the future holds for my interns' personal lives. [A long pause] But I would hope… [clears throat, picks non-existent lint off his pants, continues gruffly] I would hope she remains happy and healthy, without anymore instances of [clears throat, again] heartbreak. Of any kind.

What specifically do you find attractive about her?

I'm sorry?

What do you find attractive—

No, I heard you, I just find this sort of question wildly inappropriate and I refuse to answer it.

Okay, so we'll just put down 'nothing'.

Hold on, don't—I didn't say nothing. Just say I didn't answer.

We need some sort of answer.

Oh, for Christ's sake—will she see this? Will anyone?

No, it's information that will be used for statistical—

Fine, alright, I don't care. She's obviously an incredibly attractive woman. Are you happy? [Pauses] I mean, specifically? I would say her eyes. Especially when she smiles and they crinkle up on the sides. Also, her laugh. She's not a woman who 'titters'. Brooke isn't afraid to—well, to simply live. She laughs loudly, loves boldly, defends strongly. [His expression grows thoughtful,] She said I was a presence in a room? When she walks into—anywhere, the entire room stands still. It's like the air has been sucked out of it. And within seconds, they're enthralled. Within minutes, they love her. That's Brooke. [Clears throat] Don't put any of that. Just write down "Her intelligence."

Last thing she texted you?

"Be nice." And then some moving picture image of a dog wagging its finger. [Rolls his eyes] I hate texting.

If she asked you out on a date, how would you respond?

[Sighs wearily]

Again, she won't know. It's for statistical—

[Waves hand dismissively before sighing once more] In an ideal world—[cuts himself off and tries again] Look. Any man would be lucky to have Dr. Brooke Spiers as his partner. [Pauses] And that includes me. [clears throat] But we don't live in an ideal world. And a relationship between her and I would not only be inappropriate, but it would also inhibit her potential to achieve the highest levels of success that she is capable of achieving. [Pauses] And I would never do that to her.

[Stands up abruptly] Are we done here? We're done. Rookie! [Leaves to meet Dr. Spiers, who is waiting for him outside.]

EXT. COFFEE SHOP - LATE AFTERNOON

OBSERVED FROM INSIDE THE COFFEE SHOP

The two doctors greet each other with a smile. NOTE: Dr Ramsey immediately appears calmer in the other doctor's presence.

He says something and Dr Spiers bumps him playfully with her shoulder. Dr Ramsey continues to speak, gesturing towards her ankle, and Dr Spiers throws her head back and laughs loudly.

Dr Ramsey watches her laugh with a small smile on his face, before allowing her shove him lightly in the direction that they are meant to take.

They walk side by side, chatting and smiling, until they disappear from view.

[tcm]

Paul Williams on His Regrets and Career By Donald Liebenson

“Bugsy Malone is like nothing else,” Roger Ebert wrote in his 1976 three-and-a-half-star review. “It's an original, a charming one.”

Alan Parker’s directorial debut, a one-of-a-kind gangster musical acted out by children (including Scott Baio in the title role and a then-13-year-old Jodie Foster as a sassy nightclub chanteuse), was an early career triumph for Paul Williams. Williams is everything that he wanted to be: an actor, an Oscar-winning songwriter of era-defining hits and composer of iconic movie scores. He’s something else, too: sober. Earlier this month he celebrated just over 30 years of sobriety. “When I got sober, the career I thought I had been gone for 10 years,” he says. “I feel like Lazarus; I’m 80-years-old, and I feel like a tired 34.”

But he’s ebullient talking about BUGSY MALONE, a cult favorite in the United States, but in its native England, it is something of a viewing rite of passage for children, thanks in part to a 1980s stage adaptation by Micky Dolenz. The film itself won four BAFTAs, including Best Screenplay and Best Newcomer and Best Supporting Actress for Foster. Williams was nominated for two Golden Globes, including Original Score and Original Song.

He has completed a new musical, Fortunate Sons, about how the Vietnam War draft lottery affects two households. His last major acting role was as ex-lawyer and informant JT on two seasons of the Amazon series, Goliath. “I’ve always said I’m a pretty good songwriter for an out-of-work actor,” he jokes. “Acting is where I got my start.”

Where in the process did you get involved with Bugsy Malone?  

Paul Williams: BUGSY MALONE began as a bedtime story Alan made up for his kids. Every night he put his kids to bed, they said, ‘Tell us more about Bugsy tomorrow night, dad.’ So maybe the answer to that question is that the headwaters of BUGSY MALONE is Alan’s love for his children and his great love for the traditional American gangster film. He found a place where those two things would meet in a way that was really unique.

How did Bugsy Malone come to you? 

PW: Alan Parker liked my songs, but I don’t know where he got the idea to approach me. It was around the time of A STAR IS BORN (for which he co-wrote the Oscar-winning song “Evergreen” with Barbra Streisand). He sent me a batch of beautiful color drawings of the cars, the splurge guns and the sets. Then he sent me the script, and I loved it. I was playing Vegas a lot and when I agreed to do it, he came over to talk to me. I was opening for Liza Minnelli or Olivia Newton John, I don’t remember who. Alan and I sat down at a deli, drank coffee and I was just singing bits and pieces of songs that I thought would be good ideas. I thought we needed to open with a song about Bugsy. It poured out of me. When the marriage is right, that seems to happen with me.

What was your own connection to American gangster movies? Were you a fan?

PW: Oh, my god, I was a huge Humphrey Bogart fan. One of the great times that I ever had was doing THE CHEAP DETECTIVE, because I was playing Elisha Cook’s role from THE MALTESE FALCON. As a little boy, I knew his name before I knew Santa Claus. I remember when I first came back to Hollywood to try and make it as an actor, one of the first things that happened was I walked into a drug store just as (character actor) Royal Dano was walking out. You’ve seen him in a hundred movies. I said, ‘Hiya, Mr. Dano,’ and he snapped his head around and said, ‘Hello, young man.’ I told that story on Carson, and I got a letter from Royal Dano. He said, ‘Although I don’t remember meeting you, it seems to me you were thinner then.’ I love that.

How did you approach writing the songs, because they are songs being lip-synced by children, but they are not children’s songs. 

PW: The script is the Bible. The two basic tasks a songwriter have are to move the story ahead and to display the inner life of the characters. Alan Parker was similar to Jim Henson in that the rule of writing was to not write down to kids, but to write accurately for character and story. The characters Alan wrote were so strong; they are archetypes of the great Warner Bros. characters. Bugsy was John Garfield meets Humphrey Bogart.

Where did the idea come from to have the child actors lip-sync to adult voices?

PW: They got kids that could act, they got kids that could dance, but the songs had intricate rhythms and to find kids who could sing them was a challenge. I thought that if the automobiles are these weird little hybrids that make the sound of an engine but are being pedaled, and the guns shoot cream, then why couldn’t the kids sing with adult voices? It would have the feel of an animated film. It solved the whole problem. The one regret I will have my entire life is that I put another (singing) voice in Jodie Foster’s mouth; one of the great actors in American film history.  That’s a terrible legacy (laughs). I did that with (the character) Beef in PHANTOM OF THE PARADISE. I used a guy named Ray Kennedy who had a great beefy voice, but when I heard Gerritt Graham sing later, I thought maybe I should have given him a shot.

This was before your collaboration with Jim Henson and the Muppets. Was Bugsy Malone a project you personally wanted to take on as something your own children could see?

PW: Bugsy Malone is the one motion picture I’ve written songs for that I’ve seen more than anything that I ever worked on, and there’s a simple reason for it. When my wife and I broke up, I would spend the weekend with my kids and I would plunk them down in front of the TV with pizza and, god bless them, they must have seen BUGSY MALONE for years. Eventually, I learned how to talk to my kids and be a sober real dad, but my kids just love BUGSY.

The closing number, “You Give a Little Love,” is Bugsy Malone’s legacy song, much like “The Rainbow Connection” is for The Muppet Movie. It was even used in a Coca-Cola Super Bowl commercial.

PW: That song is pretty much my philosophy. I absolutely believe it. My entire life has proven to me that there is something about the elegance of kindness that has always had a solid return. The core philosophy of BUGSY MALONE is, ‘We could have been anything that we wanted to be/and it’s not too late to change.’

In America, Bugsy Malone received good reviews and is a cult favorite. But it’s huge in England. Why do you think it was so embraced there?

PW: We took it to the stage in the 1980s. Every kid in England, Wales and Ireland, but especially in Great Britain, grew up seeing BUGSY MALONE. It’s like GREASE in this country. Edgar Wright did BUGSY as a kid, which led me to a role in BABY DRIVER. 

Where do you rank Bugsy Malone in the Paul Williams canon?

PW: It is probably the best opportunity I ever had in this life to preach a little kindness. It’s probably the best opportunity I’ve ever been given to express the possibilities and probabilities that we could be anything we want to be. I was the runt of the litter from the Midwest; this little dude who didn’t fit into any world. I just absolutely loved music and movies and without thinking twice, I thought, ‘I’m going to do that.’ I hope BUGSY MALONE inspires that for anyone looking up at the screen and is attracted to the possibilities of telling the truth about themselves in a way that helps someone else.

Bugsy Malone is but one chapter in an incredible life and career. Have you given any thought to writing your autobiography? 

PW: You know what? In recovery we call it an inventory (laughs). I think I’m at a place in my life where I feel like a beginner, like I’m just getting started. I know how idiotic that sounds at 80, but I want three digits on my driver’s license, and I think the one thing that gives me a shot at that is that I love being busy and doing the things that matter most to me, and that’s trying to tell the truth in a way that helps someone else.

[dontcallmecarrie]

Hey, I vicariously live in my imagination to escape from the reality.

So, I have been wondering about the Rogues reaction to Tony defeating thanos, the IronSmaug, taking over the world etc...

Have a go at it, if you are interested.

It's also fine if you dont.

thanks, I really, really needed the distraction. it's been. an interesting week. not in a good way.

.

tbh, the whole 'what does Team Cap think about this mess?' thing in TWiFFON is...something I had originally been torn about, and everything that's been happening ever since means I keep finding myself going "do I have the energy to tackle this? lol no".

For some context, because you probably know my stance on this sort of thing but I prefer redundancy just to make sure we're on the same page: once upon a time, I honestly, genuinely did like the Avengers. All of them, and yes, that included Wanda [...for less than an hour, but still].

Back when I still had faith in the writers, I was constantly going "...okay, so when are these guys going to stop acting so OOC? Where tf are they planning on taking these character arcs?" and just being disappointed at each turn— but I stuck around because I liked the potential. Steve "what do you mean punching fascists isn't cool anymore?" Rogers, Natasha "my past is a tire fire and I'll just leave it at that" Romanov, Clint "where's Loki? Let me at him!" Barton and the rest of the group had their good points, and I gave myself a headache trying to figure out wtf was their thought process when the time came for them to do their thing in TWiFFON.

It wasn't fun, I only did it because it was absolutely necessary... and I still ended up receiving complaints.

Look: for me, character bashing is exhausting. I have enough going down in my life that I don't have any interest in writing it, and over the past few years I've seen more than one of the fandoms I follow/lurk in become salt mines that have me going "...okay, if you hate it so much, why are you even here?"

When I write, I try my best to emphasize the 'actions have consequences' thing I learned long before I hit puberty; but that doesn't mean I'm up for anything beyond that. Again, I used to like these characters, so seeing the levels of suffering canon— and some writers— put them through just has me stepping back for a moment.

But TWiFFON attracted a lot of people who were pretty far out there in terms of what they wanted, some of whom got very very pissy when it wasn't the story I wanted to write, which is...probably like 99% of the reason I'm still burned out on that AU. Apart from the recent personal life bs that means I am Not Up To Dealing With any hypothetical rando that shows up in my inbox, because normally I could not care less about what people think but my energy levels are. Um. Not great atm. Not sure I wouldn't bite anyone's head off if they wanted to start something right now, tbh, or just ragequit writing for a while because I have way better things to do with my time than deal with random internet assholes.

...apologies for the tangent, but now you know why that situation is one I'm normally kinda reluctant on tackling.

As for what I'd originally headcanoned:

Back before things hit the fan, I'd originally planned to have some little interlude snippets of what Team Cap's been dealing with. Mostly, it would've forced them to acknowledge that for all none of them liked or trusted Tony, he was basically just the personification of what the rest of the world thought of them.

Nobody respects them, anymore, or trusts them; Clint'd be in very hot water and sleeping on the couch for a while, and Hank Pym would never let Scott hear the end of his involvement in this whole thing because Hank hates the Stark name and the English language cannot concisely articulate just how pissed off he was that he had to publicly thank Tony.

Team Cap overall would also start to fall apart at the seams as more and more stuff came out and ey, turns out the leader they'd trusted and broken international laws for had lied to them.

By omission, sure, but honestly— do you think that'd go down well? The "oh yeah, I've known my brainwashed friend killed his parents since DC but I am not going to tell him unless I'm forced to" thing?

I don't know about you, but I for one highly doubt Sam Wilson would be okay with that. Or Clint, for that matter, and the list goes on because the more time passes, the more stuff keeps coming out of the woodwork and for the first time in years, they're forced to deal with it.

One of the things I planned to include in the sidefic can basically be summed up as "the curious case of Bucky Barnes": that is to say, what'd happen after he's taken into custody, and poke lightly at the clusterfuck we're unpacking here. Tony, feeling bad for losing control in the bunker, would basically go "shit I fucked up but I also never want to see him again but he's an even bigger mess than I am, that's a whole lot to unpack so you know what? I'm just throwing out the suitcase entirely here, have all the resources for support and help and if I ever see you again, it'll be too soon".

...to sum up, it's messy af. SI Legal would feature heavily because his particular case means he needs a team of lawyers, what with the 'former POW who's trying to recover from All The Trauma' thing, and the 'so I literally was just trying to buy some damn groceries when you guys dragged me into this', and Tony basically went "hey, so if anyone wants to help him, uh, I kinda have some interest in this one. Fair warning, dude probably killed Kennedy while mind-controlled, with our luck".

And along the way, there'd also be some of that one subplot I'd cut due to pacing issues: specifically, the one dealing with prosthetics.

Remember how Miriam Sharpe said her son would never walk again? Yeah, we'd be revisiting that: her family'd get a letter or something inviting them for clinical trials, and meet Rhodey in passing as he's using his own leg braces to get around because he's still healing. Bucky would get a few design offers for a free replacement for his arm, and it'd probably end up being a collab with Wakanda because T'Challa feels bad for his role in that mess as well.

So Team Cap would be seeing this, seeing how everyone's acting and reacting, and the way one of their own is getting all the help and support Stark Industries has to offer and realizing that yeah, they messed up. Big time.

...depending on my salt levels and how close we're sticking to canon, I was thinking this'd go one of two ways.

Either they'd double down and just go "ugh, Tony is a supervillain and we can't do anything about it!" while TWiFFON marches on and then later go "...you mean he did it by accident?!", or...

Well, canon's proven character development and continuity isn't really in their writers' vocabulary. So my original idea of 'they're forced to deal with the reality of the situation, acknowledge they messed up and slowly move on with their lives' would've been very unrealistic.

Again, most of this is intentionally vague, I had not been keen to tackle that mess in TWiFFON in the first place and the way things exploded on me means I really, really don't have the energy to do so now. Not when there's far better things I could do with my time, like mess around with AUs where people actually get along, or knit, or— well, the list goes on.

[genevievemd]

Hi Sara! Ready to shake things up? let's play:

Not Yet Wed Questions

Note: Great Scott! This week, we are going back in time to MC’s intern year. Think of Ethan’s relationship with them at this point and answer the following questions accordingly. It is entirely up to you when in year 1 this takes place (pre/post Miami, pre/post CH 15, etc). Feel free to answer with dialogue or pictures or both :) Have fun!

No worries. All of this is off the record and HR will never know!

The setting for this answers is:

For Both

When I first saw them, I thought__________

What is your coworker's most used swear word?

Quick: What color are their eyes?

Three people at work your coworker hates?

What is your coworker’s strangest or most endearing quirk?

If they had a crush on anyone at work, who would that be?

(Bonus round! Feel free to skip.)

Never have I Ever:

come into work hungover

had a fistfight

been kicked out of a bar

gotten a tattoo

broken someone’s heart

been in love

For MC (Ethan is not there)

Where do you see him in five years (both professionally and in his personal life?)

What do you find the most impressive about him?

Last thing he texted you?

If he asked you out on a date, what would you say?

For Ethan (MC is not there)

Where do you see him in five years (both professionally and in his personal life?)

What specifically do you find attractive about her?

Last thing she texted you?

If she asked you out on a date, how would you respond?

I don't think you understand how excited I am about this round. This is GENIUS BREE! GENIUS!

I'm setting my answers after Miami but before he quits, because the pining was just too good.

Also, he doesn't have any other nicknames for her at this point, other than Gen and Rookie. G is a special one that happens in book 2, so... you didn't need to know that, but I'm telling you anyway.

Okay on to the fun.

For Both

1. When I first saw them, I thought__________

Ethan: Remind me why we're doing this? Gen: Cause they asked nicely and I also asked nicely? Ethan: Right, fine. *clears throat* When I first saw Genevieve, I thought she was a decent enough doctor. Gen: *giggles* You called me amateur! Ethan: You were. But still a good doctor, and you proved me right. Gen: *blushes* When I first saw Ethan, I thought he was an ass and really, really attractive. Ethan: I'm sorry, what? Gen: That can't be surprising to you. Considering the other night... Ethan: Right. Right.

2. What is your coworker's most used swear word?

Gen: Christ. He says it all the time. Ethan: I do not. Gen: Yes, you do. What's mine? Ethan: You're far more crass than I am. Gen: I am not! Ethan: Yes you are. You alternate between shit and fuck pretty frequently. Gen: ... you're not wrong.

3. Quick: What color are their eyes?

Gen: Blue. Ethan: Emerald. Gen: You could just say green. Ethan: I could have.

4. Three people at work your coworker hates?

Gen: *snickers* Easy. Dr Richards, the anesthesiologist. Dr Toussaint and Dr Calais. Ethan: I don't hate -- Gen: You hate them. Ethan: *sighs* Fine. Genevieve doesn't hate anyone, I don't think she's even capable of that. Gen: That's sweet. Ethan: It's true. There's not a hateful bone in your body, Rookie. *They smile at each other*

5. What is your coworker’s strangest or most endearing quirk?

Ethan: Gen refers to use anything other than a black pen. If there's not one at the desk, she'll search for one. Gen: I can't tell if you're saying that as something strange or endearing. Ethan: Endearing, although in the beginning of our... friendship I found it strange. Now it's... endearing. Gen: Oh... Ethan: I'm almost afraid of your answer. Gen: Does pinching the bridge of his nose all the time count? Cause he does it whenever he's mad, or annoying, or frustrated. It's cute. Ethan: Don't say cute. Gen: I could say a different word, but I don't think that would be appropriate. Ethan: *blushes*

6. If they had a crush on anyone at work, who would that be?

Ethan: Your surgeon friend, Lahela. Or that scrawny one. Gen: Landry? Gross. No. Never. He's not my type. Ethan: What is your type, surgeons? Gen: *leans over and whispers* No, you. Ethan: *clears his throat* Genevieve. Gen: Ethan's crush would be Harper. Or Nurse Sarah. Ethan: No, on both. I don't have crushes. Gen: Not even on me? Ethan: Genevieve. Gen: Fine, fine.

Never Have I Ever:

1. Come into work hungover

Gen: No. Ethan: Absolutely not.

2. had a fistfight

Gen: Nope. Ethan: No. Gen: Yes. You punched Declan Nash. Ethan: *looks smug* Yes, I did, but that wasn't a fight. He never had the chance to hit me back. Gen: Okay, sure. Whatever you say.

3. been kicked out of a bar

Gen: Unfortunately. Ethan: What? You? Gen: Yeah, once in college. My sister, Natalie, came to visit... I may have jumped up onto a table to dance and it got us kicked out. Ethan: I'm surprised, Rookie. I didn't think you were the type. Gen: Have you? Ethan: Of course not.

4. gotten a tattoo

Ethan: No. Gen: Yes. Ethan: *looks over at her shook af* You... have a tattoo? Gen: Yeah, but it's hidden. Ethan: Where? Gen: I'm not telling. Ethan: Why, because 'a girl's gotta have some secrets.'? Gen: Precisely.

(it's on her rib cage, hidden by the band of her bra. He finds out after the first dirty 30 in ch 15)

5. broken someone’s heart

Gen: I don't think so. Ethan: *looks at Gen subtly* Yes.

6. been in love

Gen: I thought I was once, but no. Ethan: Never.

For Gen:

1. Where do you see him in five years (both professionally and in his personal life?)

Gen: Professionally, leading the team still, maybe writing another book. Personally... I don't know. As long as he's happy then whatever is in store for him in the next five years is good for me.

2. What do you find the most impressive about him?

Gen: His mind, for sure. That's what inspired me to become a doctor. He's so smart, it's incredible. The amount of things he knows, and he's always trying to learn new things. It's impressive. And attractive.

3. Last thing he texted you?

Gen: *laughs* He hates texting, he always gets so mad when I text him. But, the last thing he texted me was asking to meet him at Derry's for coffee, to talk about Naveen. And before that was when we were in Miami.

4. If he asked you out on a date, what would you say?

Gen: Yes. Without hesitation. I know my answer should be no, he's made it pretty clear that a romantic relationship would never happen between us, regardless of how we feel... but if he asked, I'd say yes.

For Ethan:

1. Where do you see her in five years (both professionally and in her personal life?)

Ethan: Professionally, being an incredible doctor, inspiring young minds like she claims I have. She'll be on the diagnostics team, for sure. Whether she wins the fellowship spot or not, she'll be there. Personally... still friends with her group, and hopefully, with someone who loves her. She deserves that, deserves to be with someone who can give her everything she wants in life.

2. What specifically do you find attractive about her?

Ethan: Her intelligence. Physically... her smile. She's beautiful when she smiles.

3. Last thing she texted you?

Ethan: A... meme, is that what they're called? Some ridiculous picture with words that was supposed to be funny. It wasn't.

4. If she asked you out on a date, how would you respond?

Ethan: She won't know what I've said, correct?... If Genevieve ever asked me out, as much as I say we can't be together, I know I'd say yes. It's unethical, and potentially damaging to her career, but... if I ever have the opportunity to be with her, like that, my answer would be yes.

BREE THESE WERE AMAZING! AMAZING. Please do this again, maybe after chapter 11 of book 2 next time. For the FEELS

[chrisevansluv]

Here is the 2012 Detail Magazine interview with chris evans:

The Avengers' Chris Evans: Just Your Average Beer-Swilling, Babe-Loving Buddhist

The 30-year-old Bud Light-chugging, Beantown-bred star of The Avengers is widely perceived as the ultimate guy's guy. But beneath the bro persona lies a serious student of Buddhism, an unrepentant song-and-dance man, and a guy who talks to his mom about sex. And farts.

By Adam Sachs,

Photographs by Norman Jean Roy

May 2012 Issue

"Should we just kill him and bury his body?" Chris Evans is stage whispering into the impassive blinking light of my digital recorder.

"Chris!" shouts his mother, her tone a familiar-to-anyone-with-a-mother mix of coddling and concern. "Don't say that! What if something happened?"

We're at Evans' apartment, an expansive but not overly tricked-out bachelor-pad-ish loft in a semi-industrial nowheresville part of Boston, hard by Chinatown, near an area sometimes called the Combat Zone. Evans has a fuzzy, floppy, slept-in-his-clothes aspect that'd be nearly unrecognizable if you knew him only by the upright, spit-polished bearing of the onscreen hero. His dog, East, a sweet and slobbery American bulldog, is spread out on a couch in front of the TV. The shelves of his fridge are neatly stacked with much of the world's supply of Bud Light in cans and little else.

On the counter sit a few buckets of muscle-making whey-protein powder that belong to Evans' roommate, Zach Jarvis, an old pal who sometimes tags along on set as a paid "assistant" and a personal trainer who bulked Evans up for his role as the super-ripped patriot in last summer's blockbuster Captain America: The First Avenger. A giant clock on the exposed-brick wall says it's early evening, but Evans operates on his own sense of time. Between gigs, his schedule's all his, which usually translates into long stretches of alone time during the day and longer social nights for the 30-year-old.

"I could just make this . . . disappear," says Josh Peck, another old pal and occasional on-set assistant, in a deadpan mumble, poking at the voice recorder I'd left on the table while I was in the bathroom.

Evans' mom, Lisa, now speaks directly into the microphone: "Don't listen to them—I'm trying to get them not to say these things!"

But not saying things isn't in the Evans DNA. They're an infectiously gregarious clan. Irish-Italians, proud Bostoners, close-knit, and innately theatrical. "We all act, we sing," Evans says. "It was like the fucking von Trapps." Mom was a dancer and now runs a children's theater. First-born Carly directed the family puppet shows and studied theater at NYU. Younger brother Scott has parts on One Life to Live and Law & Order under his belt and lives in Los Angeles full-time—something Evans stopped doing several years back. Rounding out the circle are baby sister Shanna and a pair of "strays" the family brought into their Sudbury, Massachusetts, home: Josh, who went from mowing the lawn to moving in when his folks relocated during his senior year in high school; and Demery, who was Evans' roommate until recently.

"Our house was like a hotel," Evans says. "It was a loony-tunes household. If you got arrested in high school, everyone knew: 'Call Mrs. Evans, she'll bail you out.'"

Growing up, they had a special floor put in the basement where all the kids practiced tap-dancing. The party-ready rec room also had a Ping-Pong table and a separate entrance. This was the house kids in the neighborhood wanted to hang at, and this was the kind of family you wanted to be adopted by. Spend an afternoon listening to them dish old dirt and talk over each other and it's easy to see why. Now they're worried they've said too much, laid bare the tender soul of the actor behind the star-spangled superhero outfit, so there's talk of offing the interviewer. I can hear all this from the bathroom, which, of course, is the point of a good stage whisper.

To be sure, no one's said too much, and the more you're brought into the embrace of this boisterous, funny, shit-slinging, demonstrably loving extended family, the more likable and enviable the whole dynamic is.

Sample exchange from today's lunch of baked ziti at a family-style Italian restaurant:

Mom: When he was a kid, he asked me, 'Mom, will I ever think farting isn't funny?'

Chris: You're throwing me under the bus, Ma! Thank you.

Mom: Well, if a dog farts you still find it funny.

Then, back at the apartment, where Mrs. Evans tries to give me good-natured dirt on her son without freaking him out:

Mom: You always tell me when you think a girl is attractive. You'll call me up so excited. Is that okay to say?

Chris: Nothing wrong with that.

Mom: And can I say all the girls you've brought to the house have been very sweet and wonderful? Of course, those are the ones that make it to the house. It's been a long time, hasn't it?

Chris: Looooong time.

Mom: The last one at our house? Was it six years ago?

Chris: No names, Ma!

Mom: But she knocked it out of the park.

Chris: She got drunk and puked at Auntie Pam's house! And she puked on the way home and she puked at our place.

Mom: And that's when I fell in love with her. Because she was real.

We're operating under a no-names rule, so I'm not asking if it's Jessica Biel who made this memorable first impression. She and Evans were serious for a couple of years. But I don't want to picture lovely Jessica Biel getting sick at Auntie Pam's or in the car or, really, anywhere.

East the bulldog ambles over to the table, begging for food.

"That dog is the love of his life," Mrs. Evans says. "Which tells me he'll be an unbelievable parent, but I don't want him to get married right now." She turns to Chris. "The way you are, I just don't think you're ready."

Some other things I learn about Evans from his mom: He hates going to the gym; he was so wound-up as a kid she'd let him stand during dinner, his legs shaking like caged greyhounds; he suffered weekly "Sunday-night meltdowns" over schoolwork and the angst of the sensitive middle-schooler; after she and his father split and he was making money from acting, he bought her the Sudbury family homestead rather than let her leave it.

Eventually his mom and Josh depart, and Evans and I go to work depleting his stash of Bud Light. It feels like we drink Bud Light and talk for days, because we basically do. I arrived early Friday evening; it's Saturday night now and it'll be sunup Sunday before I sleeplessly make my way to catch a train back to New York City. Somewhere in between we slip free of the gravitational pull of the bachelor pad and there's bottle service at a club and a long walk with entourage in tow back to Evans' apartment, where there is some earnest-yet-surreal group singing, piano playing, and chitchat. Evans is fun to talk to, partly because he's an open, self-mocking guy with an explosive laugh and no apparent need to sleep, and partly because when you cut just below the surface, it's clear he's not quite the dude's dude he sometimes plays onscreen and in TV appearances.

From a distance, Chris Evans the movie star seems a predictable, nearly inevitable piece of successful Hollywood packaging come to market. There's his major-release debut as the dorkily unaware jock Jake in the guilty pleasure Not Another Teen Movie (in one memorable scene, Evans has whipped cream on his chest and a banana up his ass). The female-friendly hunk appeal—his character in The Nanny Diaries is named simply Harvard Hottie—is balanced by a kind of casual-Friday, I'm-from-Boston regular-dudeness. Following the siren song of comic-book cash, he was the Human Torch in two Fantastic Four films. As with scrawny Steve Rogers, the Captain America suit beefed up his stature as a formidable screen presence, a bankable leading man, all of which leads us to The Avengers, this season's megabudget, megawatt ensemble in which he stars alongside Scarlett Johansson, Mark Ruffalo, Robert Downey Jr., and Chris Hemsworth.

It all feels inevitable—and yet it nearly didn't happen. Evans repeatedly turned down the Captain America role, fearing he'd be locked into what was originally a nine-picture deal. He was shooting Puncture, about a drug-addicted lawyer, at the time. Most actors doing small-budget legal dramas would jump at the chance to play the lead in a Marvel franchise, but Evans saw a decade of his life flash before his eyes.

What he remembers thinking is this: "What if the movie comes out and it's a success and I just reject all of this? What if I want to move to the fucking woods?"

By "the woods," he doesn't mean a quiet life away from the spotlight, some general metaphorical life escape route. He means the actual woods. "For a long time all I wanted for Christmas were books about outdoor survival," he says. "I was convinced that I was going to move to the woods. I camped a lot, I took classes. At 18, I told myself if I don't live in the woods by the time I'm 25, I have failed."

Evans has described his hesitation at signing on for Captain America. Usually he talks about the time commitment, the loss of what remained of his relative anonymity. On the junkets for the movie, he was open about needing therapy after the studio reduced the deal to six movies and he took the leap. What he doesn't usually mention is that he was racked with anxiety before the job came up.

"I get very nervous," Evans explains. "I shit the bed if I have to present something on stage or if I'm doing press. Because it's just you." He's been known to walk out of press conferences, to freeze up and go silent during the kind of relaxed-yet-high-stakes meetings an actor of his stature is expected to attend: "Do you know how badly I audition? Fifty percent of the time I have to walk out of the room. I'm naturally very pale, so I turn red and sweat. And I have to literally walk out. Sometimes mid-audition. You start having these conversations in your brain. 'Chris, don't do this. Chris, take it easy. You're just sitting in a room with a person saying some words, this isn't life. And you're letting this affect you? Shame on you.'"

Shades of "Sunday-night meltdowns." Luckily the nerves never follow him to the set. "You do your neuroses beforehand, so when they yell 'Action' you can be present," he says.

Okay, there was one on-set panic attack—while Evans was shooting Puncture. "We were getting ready to do a court scene in front of a bunch of people, and I don't know what happened," he says. "It's just your brain playing games with you. 'Hey, you know how we sometimes freak out? What if we did it right now?'"

One of the people who advised Evans to take the Captain America role was his eventual Avengers costar Robert Downey Jr. "I'd seen him around," Downey says. "We share an agent. I like to spend a lot of my free time talking to my agent about his other clients—I just had a feeling about him."

What he told Evans was: This puppy is going to be big, and when it is you're going to get to make the movies you want to make. "In the marathon obstacle course of a career," Downey says, "it's just good to have all the stats on paper for why you're not only a team player but also why it makes sense to support you in the projects you want to do—because you've made so much damned money for the studio."

There's also the fact that Evans had a chance to sign on for something likely to be a kind of watershed moment in the comic-book fascination of our time. "I do think The Avengers is the crescendo of this superhero phase in entertainment—except of course for Iron Man 3," Downey says. "It'll take a lot of innovation to keep it alive after this."

Captain America is the only person left who was truly close to Howard Stark, father of Tony Stark (a.k.a. Iron Man), which meant that Evans' and Downey's story lines are closely linked, and in the course of doing a lot of scenes together, they got to be pals. Downey diagnoses his friend with what he terms "low-grade red-carpet anxiety disorder."

"He just hates the game-show aspect of doing PR," Downey says. "Obviously there's pressure for anyone in this transition he's in. But he will easily triple that pressure to make sure he's not being lazy. That's why I respect the guy. I wouldn't necessarily want to be in his skin. But his motives are pure. He just needs to drink some red-carpet chamomile."

"The majority of the world is empty space," Chris Evans says, watching me as if my brain might explode on hearing this news—or like he might have to fight me if I try to contradict him. We're back at his apartment after a cigarette run through the Combat Zone.

"Empty space!" he says again, slapping the table and sort of yelling. Then, in a slow, breathy whisper, he repeats: "Empty space, empty space. All that we see in the world, the life, the animals, plants, people, it's all empty space. That's amazing!" He slaps the table again. "You want another beer? Gotta be Bud Light. Get dirty—you're in Boston. Okay, organize your thoughts. I gotta take a piss . . ."

My thoughts are this: That this guy who is hugging his dog and talking to me about space and mortality and the trouble with Boston girls who believe crazy gossip about him—this is not the guy I expected to meet. I figured he'd be a meatball. Though, truthfully, I'd never called anyone a meatball until Evans turned me on to the put-down. As in: "My sister Shanna dates meatballs." And, more to the point: "When I do interviews, I'd rather just be the beer-drinking dude from Boston and not get into the complex shit, because I don't want every meatball saying, 'So hey, whaddyathink about Buddhism?'"

At 17, Evans came across a copy of Hermann Hesse's Siddhartha and began his spiritual questing. It's a path of study and struggle that, he says, defines his true purpose in life. "I love acting. It's my playground, it lets me explore. But my happiness in this world, my level of peace, is never going to be dictated by acting," he says. "My goal in life is to detach from the egoic mind. Do you know anything about Eastern philosophy?"

I sip some Bud Light and shake my head sheepishly. "They talk about the egoic mind, the part of you that's self-aware, the watcher, the person you think is driving this machine," he says. "And that separation from self and mind is the root of suffering. There are ways of retraining the way you think. This isn't really supported in Western society, which is focused on 'Go get it, earn it, win it, marry it.'"

Scarlett Johansson says that one of the things she appreciates about Evans is how he steers clear of industry chat when they see each other. "Basically every actor," she says, "including myself, when we finish a job we're like, 'Well, that's it for me. Had a good run. Put me out to pasture.' But Chris doesn't strike me as someone who frets about the next job." The two met on the set of The Perfect Score when they were teenagers and have stayed close; The Avengers is their third movie together. "He has this obviously masculine presence—a dude's dude—and we're used to seeing him play heroic characters," Johansson says, "but he's also surprisingly sensitive. He has close female friends, and you can talk to him about anything. Plus there's that secret song-and-dance, jazz-hands side of Chris. I feel like he grew up with the Partridge Family. He'd be just as happy doing Guys and Dolls as he would Captain America 2."

East needs to do his business, so Evans and I take him up to the roof deck. Evans bought this apartment in 2010 when living in L.A. full-time no longer appealed to him. He came back to stay close to his extended family and the intimate circle of Boston pals he's maintained since high school. The move also seems like a pretty clear keep-it-real hedge against the manic ego-stroking distractions of Hollywood.

"I think my daytime person is different than my nighttime person," Evans says. "With my high-school buddies, we drink beer and talk sports and it's great. The kids in my Buddhism class in L.A., they're wildly intelligent, and I love being around them, but they're not talking about the Celtics. And that's part of me. It's a strange dichotomy. I don't mind being a certain way with some people and having this other piece of me that's just for me."

I asked Downey about Evans' outward regular-Joe persona. "It's complete horseshit," Downey says. "There's an inherent street-smart intelligence there. I don't think he tries to hide it. But he's much more evolved and much more culturally aware than he lets on."

Perhaps the meatball and the meditation can coexist. We argue about our egoic brains and the tao of Boston girls. "I love wet hair and sweatpants," he says in their defense. "I like sneakers and ponytails. I like girls who aren't so la-di-da. L.A. is so la-di-da. I like Boston girls who shit on me. Not literally. Girls who give me a hard time, bust my chops a little."

The chief buster of Evans' chops is, of course, Evans himself. "The problem is, the brain I'm using to dissect this world is a brain formed by it," he says. "We're born into confusion, and we get the blessing of letting go of it." Then he adds: "I think this shit by day. And then night comes and it's like, 'Fuck it, let's drink.'"

And so we do. It's getting late. Again. We should have eaten dinner, but Evans sometimes forgets to eat: "If I could just take a pill to make me full forever, I wouldn't think twice."

We talk about his dog and camping with his dog and why he loves being alone more than almost anything except maybe not being alone. "I swear to God, if you saw me when I am by myself in the woods, I'm a lunatic," he says. "I sing, I dance. I do crazy shit."

Evans' unflagging, all-encompassing enthusiasm is impressive, itself a kind of social intelligence. "If you want to have a good conversation with him, don't talk about the fact that he's famous" was the advice I got from Mark Kassen, who codirected Puncture. "He's a blast, a guy who can hang. For quite a long time. Many hours in a row."

I've stopped looking at the clock. We've stopped talking philosophy and moved into more emotional territory. He asks questions about my 9-month-old son, and then Captain America gets teary when I talk about the wonder of his birth. "I weep at everything," he says. "I emote. I love things so much—I just never want to dilute that."

He talks about how close he feels to his family, how open they all are with each other. About everything. All the time. "The first time I had sex," he says, "I raced home and was like, 'Mom, I just had sex! Where's the clit?'"

Wait, I ask—did she ever tell you?

"Still don't know where it is, man," he says, then breaks into a smile composed of equal parts shit-eating grin and inner peace. "I just don't know. Make some movies, you don't have to know…"

Here is the 2012 Detail Magazine interview with chris evans:

The Avengers' Chris Evans: Just Your Average Beer-Swilling, Babe-Loving Buddhist

The 30-year-old Bud Light-chugging, Beantown-bred star of The Avengers is widely perceived as the ultimate guy's guy. But beneath the bro persona lies a serious student of Buddhism, an unrepentant song-and-dance man, and a guy who talks to his mom about sex. And farts.

By Adam Sachs,

Photographs by Norman Jean Roy

May 2012 Issue

"Should we just kill him and bury his body?" Chris Evans is stage whispering into the impassive blinking light of my digital recorder.

"Chris!" shouts his mother, her tone a familiar-to-anyone-with-a-mother mix of coddling and concern. "Don't say that! What if something happened?"

We're at Evans' apartment, an expansive but not overly tricked-out bachelor-pad-ish loft in a semi-industrial nowheresville part of Boston, hard by Chinatown, near an area sometimes called the Combat Zone. Evans has a fuzzy, floppy, slept-in-his-clothes aspect that'd be nearly unrecognizable if you knew him only by the upright, spit-polished bearing of the onscreen hero. His dog, East, a sweet and slobbery American bulldog, is spread out on a couch in front of the TV. The shelves of his fridge are neatly stacked with much of the world's supply of Bud Light in cans and little else.

On the counter sit a few buckets of muscle-making whey-protein powder that belong to Evans' roommate, Zach Jarvis, an old pal who sometimes tags along on set as a paid "assistant" and a personal trainer who bulked Evans up for his role as the super-ripped patriot in last summer's blockbuster Captain America: The First Avenger. A giant clock on the exposed-brick wall says it's early evening, but Evans operates on his own sense of time. Between gigs, his schedule's all his, which usually translates into long stretches of alone time during the day and longer social nights for the 30-year-old.

"I could just make this . . . disappear," says Josh Peck, another old pal and occasional on-set assistant, in a deadpan mumble, poking at the voice recorder I'd left on the table while I was in the bathroom.

Evans' mom, Lisa, now speaks directly into the microphone: "Don't listen to them—I'm trying to get them not to say these things!"

But not saying things isn't in the Evans DNA. They're an infectiously gregarious clan. Irish-Italians, proud Bostoners, close-knit, and innately theatrical. "We all act, we sing," Evans says. "It was like the fucking von Trapps." Mom was a dancer and now runs a children's theater. First-born Carly directed the family puppet shows and studied theater at NYU. Younger brother Scott has parts on One Life to Live and Law & Order under his belt and lives in Los Angeles full-time—something Evans stopped doing several years back. Rounding out the circle are baby sister Shanna and a pair of "strays" the family brought into their Sudbury, Massachusetts, home: Josh, who went from mowing the lawn to moving in when his folks relocated during his senior year in high school; and Demery, who was Evans' roommate until recently.

"Our house was like a hotel," Evans says. "It was a loony-tunes household. If you got arrested in high school, everyone knew: 'Call Mrs. Evans, she'll bail you out.'"

Growing up, they had a special floor put in the basement where all the kids practiced tap-dancing. The party-ready rec room also had a Ping-Pong table and a separate entrance. This was the house kids in the neighborhood wanted to hang at, and this was the kind of family you wanted to be adopted by. Spend an afternoon listening to them dish old dirt and talk over each other and it's easy to see why. Now they're worried they've said too much, laid bare the tender soul of the actor behind the star-spangled superhero outfit, so there's talk of offing the interviewer. I can hear all this from the bathroom, which, of course, is the point of a good stage whisper.

To be sure, no one's said too much, and the more you're brought into the embrace of this boisterous, funny, shit-slinging, demonstrably loving extended family, the more likable and enviable the whole dynamic is.

Sample exchange from today's lunch of baked ziti at a family-style Italian restaurant:

Mom: When he was a kid, he asked me, 'Mom, will I ever think farting isn't funny?'

Chris: You're throwing me under the bus, Ma! Thank you.

Mom: Well, if a dog farts you still find it funny.

Then, back at the apartment, where Mrs. Evans tries to give me good-natured dirt on her son without freaking him out:

Mom: You always tell me when you think a girl is attractive. You'll call me up so excited. Is that okay to say?

Chris: Nothing wrong with that.

Mom: And can I say all the girls you've brought to the house have been very sweet and wonderful? Of course, those are the ones that make it to the house. It's been a long time, hasn't it?

Chris: Looooong time.

Mom: The last one at our house? Was it six years ago?

Chris: No names, Ma!

Mom: But she knocked it out of the park.

Chris: She got drunk and puked at Auntie Pam's house! And she puked on the way home and she puked at our place.

Mom: And that's when I fell in love with her. Because she was real.

We're operating under a no-names rule, so I'm not asking if it's Jessica Biel who made this memorable first impression. She and Evans were serious for a couple of years. But I don't want to picture lovely Jessica Biel getting sick at Auntie Pam's or in the car or, really, anywhere.

East the bulldog ambles over to the table, begging for food.

"That dog is the love of his life," Mrs. Evans says. "Which tells me he'll be an unbelievable parent, but I don't want him to get married right now." She turns to Chris. "The way you are, I just don't think you're ready."

Some other things I learn about Evans from his mom: He hates going to the gym; he was so wound-up as a kid she'd let him stand during dinner, his legs shaking like caged greyhounds; he suffered weekly "Sunday-night meltdowns" over schoolwork and the angst of the sensitive middle-schooler; after she and his father split and he was making money from acting, he bought her the Sudbury family homestead rather than let her leave it.

Eventually his mom and Josh depart, and Evans and I go to work depleting his stash of Bud Light. It feels like we drink Bud Light and talk for days, because we basically do. I arrived early Friday evening; it's Saturday night now and it'll be sunup Sunday before I sleeplessly make my way to catch a train back to New York City. Somewhere in between we slip free of the gravitational pull of the bachelor pad and there's bottle service at a club and a long walk with entourage in tow back to Evans' apartment, where there is some earnest-yet-surreal group singing, piano playing, and chitchat. Evans is fun to talk to, partly because he's an open, self-mocking guy with an explosive laugh and no apparent need to sleep, and partly because when you cut just below the surface, it's clear he's not quite the dude's dude he sometimes plays onscreen and in TV appearances.

From a distance, Chris Evans the movie star seems a predictable, nearly inevitable piece of successful Hollywood packaging come to market. There's his major-release debut as the dorkily unaware jock Jake in the guilty pleasure Not Another Teen Movie (in one memorable scene, Evans has whipped cream on his chest and a banana up his ass). The female-friendly hunk appeal—his character in The Nanny Diaries is named simply Harvard Hottie—is balanced by a kind of casual-Friday, I'm-from-Boston regular-dudeness. Following the siren song of comic-book cash, he was the Human Torch in two Fantastic Four films. As with scrawny Steve Rogers, the Captain America suit beefed up his stature as a formidable screen presence, a bankable leading man, all of which leads us to The Avengers, this season's megabudget, megawatt ensemble in which he stars alongside Scarlett Johansson, Mark Ruffalo, Robert Downey Jr., and Chris Hemsworth.

It all feels inevitable—and yet it nearly didn't happen. Evans repeatedly turned down the Captain America role, fearing he'd be locked into what was originally a nine-picture deal. He was shooting Puncture, about a drug-addicted lawyer, at the time. Most actors doing small-budget legal dramas would jump at the chance to play the lead in a Marvel franchise, but Evans saw a decade of his life flash before his eyes.

What he remembers thinking is this: "What if the movie comes out and it's a success and I just reject all of this? What if I want to move to the fucking woods?"

By "the woods," he doesn't mean a quiet life away from the spotlight, some general metaphorical life escape route. He means the actual woods. "For a long time all I wanted for Christmas were books about outdoor survival," he says. "I was convinced that I was going to move to the woods. I camped a lot, I took classes. At 18, I told myself if I don't live in the woods by the time I'm 25, I have failed."

Evans has described his hesitation at signing on for Captain America. Usually he talks about the time commitment, the loss of what remained of his relative anonymity. On the junkets for the movie, he was open about needing therapy after the studio reduced the deal to six movies and he took the leap. What he doesn't usually mention is that he was racked with anxiety before the job came up.

"I get very nervous," Evans explains. "I shit the bed if I have to present something on stage or if I'm doing press. Because it's just you." He's been known to walk out of press conferences, to freeze up and go silent during the kind of relaxed-yet-high-stakes meetings an actor of his stature is expected to attend: "Do you know how badly I audition? Fifty percent of the time I have to walk out of the room. I'm naturally very pale, so I turn red and sweat. And I have to literally walk out. Sometimes mid-audition. You start having these conversations in your brain. 'Chris, don't do this. Chris, take it easy. You're just sitting in a room with a person saying some words, this isn't life. And you're letting this affect you? Shame on you.'"

Shades of "Sunday-night meltdowns." Luckily the nerves never follow him to the set. "You do your neuroses beforehand, so when they yell 'Action' you can be present," he says.

Okay, there was one on-set panic attack—while Evans was shooting Puncture. "We were getting ready to do a court scene in front of a bunch of people, and I don't know what happened," he says. "It's just your brain playing games with you. 'Hey, you know how we sometimes freak out? What if we did it right now?'"

One of the people who advised Evans to take the Captain America role was his eventual Avengers costar Robert Downey Jr. "I'd seen him around," Downey says. "We share an agent. I like to spend a lot of my free time talking to my agent about his other clients—I just had a feeling about him."

What he told Evans was: This puppy is going to be big, and when it is you're going to get to make the movies you want to make. "In the marathon obstacle course of a career," Downey says, "it's just good to have all the stats on paper for why you're not only a team player but also why it makes sense to support you in the projects you want to do—because you've made so much damned money for the studio."

There's also the fact that Evans had a chance to sign on for something likely to be a kind of watershed moment in the comic-book fascination of our time. "I do think The Avengers is the crescendo of this superhero phase in entertainment—except of course for Iron Man 3," Downey says. "It'll take a lot of innovation to keep it alive after this."

Captain America is the only person left who was truly close to Howard Stark, father of Tony Stark (a.k.a. Iron Man), which meant that Evans' and Downey's story lines are closely linked, and in the course of doing a lot of scenes together, they got to be pals. Downey diagnoses his friend with what he terms "low-grade red-carpet anxiety disorder."

"He just hates the game-show aspect of doing PR," Downey says. "Obviously there's pressure for anyone in this transition he's in. But he will easily triple that pressure to make sure he's not being lazy. That's why I respect the guy. I wouldn't necessarily want to be in his skin. But his motives are pure. He just needs to drink some red-carpet chamomile."

"The majority of the world is empty space," Chris Evans says, watching me as if my brain might explode on hearing this news—or like he might have to fight me if I try to contradict him. We're back at his apartment after a cigarette run through the Combat Zone.

"Empty space!" he says again, slapping the table and sort of yelling. Then, in a slow, breathy whisper, he repeats: "Empty space, empty space. All that we see in the world, the life, the animals, plants, people, it's all empty space. That's amazing!" He slaps the table again. "You want another beer? Gotta be Bud Light. Get dirty—you're in Boston. Okay, organize your thoughts. I gotta take a piss . . ."

My thoughts are this: That this guy who is hugging his dog and talking to me about space and mortality and the trouble with Boston girls who believe crazy gossip about him—this is not the guy I expected to meet. I figured he'd be a meatball. Though, truthfully, I'd never called anyone a meatball until Evans turned me on to the put-down. As in: "My sister Shanna dates meatballs." And, more to the point: "When I do interviews, I'd rather just be the beer-drinking dude from Boston and not get into the complex shit, because I don't want every meatball saying, 'So hey, whaddyathink about Buddhism?'"

At 17, Evans came across a copy of Hermann Hesse's Siddhartha and began his spiritual questing. It's a path of study and struggle that, he says, defines his true purpose in life. "I love acting. It's my playground, it lets me explore. But my happiness in this world, my level of peace, is never going to be dictated by acting," he says. "My goal in life is to detach from the egoic mind. Do you know anything about Eastern philosophy?"

I sip some Bud Light and shake my head sheepishly. "They talk about the egoic mind, the part of you that's self-aware, the watcher, the person you think is driving this machine," he says. "And that separation from self and mind is the root of suffering. There are ways of retraining the way you think. This isn't really supported in Western society, which is focused on 'Go get it, earn it, win it, marry it.'"

Scarlett Johansson says that one of the things she appreciates about Evans is how he steers clear of industry chat when they see each other. "Basically every actor," she says, "including myself, when we finish a job we're like, 'Well, that's it for me. Had a good run. Put me out to pasture.' But Chris doesn't strike me as someone who frets about the next job." The two met on the set of The Perfect Score when they were teenagers and have stayed close; The Avengers is their third movie together. "He has this obviously masculine presence—a dude's dude—and we're used to seeing him play heroic characters," Johansson says, "but he's also surprisingly sensitive. He has close female friends, and you can talk to him about anything. Plus there's that secret song-and-dance, jazz-hands side of Chris. I feel like he grew up with the Partridge Family. He'd be just as happy doing Guys and Dolls as he would Captain America 2."

East needs to do his business, so Evans and I take him up to the roof deck. Evans bought this apartment in 2010 when living in L.A. full-time no longer appealed to him. He came back to stay close to his extended family and the intimate circle of Boston pals he's maintained since high school. The move also seems like a pretty clear keep-it-real hedge against the manic ego-stroking distractions of Hollywood.

"I think my daytime person is different than my nighttime person," Evans says. "With my high-school buddies, we drink beer and talk sports and it's great. The kids in my Buddhism class in L.A., they're wildly intelligent, and I love being around them, but they're not talking about the Celtics. And that's part of me. It's a strange dichotomy. I don't mind being a certain way with some people and having this other piece of me that's just for me."

I asked Downey about Evans' outward regular-Joe persona. "It's complete horseshit," Downey says. "There's an inherent street-smart intelligence there. I don't think he tries to hide it. But he's much more evolved and much more culturally aware than he lets on."

Perhaps the meatball and the meditation can coexist. We argue about our egoic brains and the tao of Boston girls. "I love wet hair and sweatpants," he says in their defense. "I like sneakers and ponytails. I like girls who aren't so la-di-da. L.A. is so la-di-da. I like Boston girls who shit on me. Not literally. Girls who give me a hard time, bust my chops a little."

The chief buster of Evans' chops is, of course, Evans himself. "The problem is, the brain I'm using to dissect this world is a brain formed by it," he says. "We're born into confusion, and we get the blessing of letting go of it." Then he adds: "I think this shit by day. And then night comes and it's like, 'Fuck it, let's drink.'"

And so we do. It's getting late. Again. We should have eaten dinner, but Evans sometimes forgets to eat: "If I could just take a pill to make me full forever, I wouldn't think twice."

We talk about his dog and camping with his dog and why he loves being alone more than almost anything except maybe not being alone. "I swear to God, if you saw me when I am by myself in the woods, I'm a lunatic," he says. "I sing, I dance. I do crazy shit."

Evans' unflagging, all-encompassing enthusiasm is impressive, itself a kind of social intelligence. "If you want to have a good conversation with him, don't talk about the fact that he's famous" was the advice I got from Mark Kassen, who codirected Puncture. "He's a blast, a guy who can hang. For quite a long time. Many hours in a row."

I've stopped looking at the clock. We've stopped talking philosophy and moved into more emotional territory. He asks questions about my 9-month-old son, and then Captain America gets teary when I talk about the wonder of his birth. "I weep at everything," he says. "I emote. I love things so much—I just never want to dilute that."

He talks about how close he feels to his family, how open they all are with each other. About everything. All the time. "The first time I had sex," he says, "I raced home and was like, 'Mom, I just had sex! Where's the clit?'"

Wait, I ask—did she ever tell you?

"Still don't know where it is, man," he says, then breaks into a smile composed of equal parts shit-eating grin and inner peace. "I just don't know. Make some movies, you don't have to know…"

If someone doesn't want to check the link, the anon sent the full interview!

[portsidewonderland]

Okay, I’ve been wanting to write this for the last three weeks, but I’m finally - finally - sitting down to do just that.

First, I’m a Rogan shipper. I’ve been a Rogan shipper for the last 20 years, but in that time, I’ve grown, I’ve experienced my own sense of love, and I’m a writer so I’d like to think I’m familiar with structure, characterization, and the like.

Second, I’m focused on the film franchise, strictly speaking. Just wanted to make sure that is clear.

Having said that, when I discuss how utterly wrong the X-Men franchise is, I’m talking about from a story standpoint. When I speak of Logan and Rogue, if that ship isn’t your jam, fine, but the points I make still stand.

Finally, spoiler alert for all of the movies.

Okay, I think we’re ready to jump in.

1. After the first movie, everyone forgot the heart of what made the first movie so special: Wolverine & Rogue

I don’t necessarily mean together. I mean, the movie focused primarily on Logan’s story and Rogue’s story. It was told through THEIR POV. This is important because, essentially, we’re asked to connect with these two characters AND WE DO.

The dialogue, the acting, and their stories (which reflect each other’s as well as stand on their own) draw us in and we are hooked.

Even the critics thought some of the best scenes are the ones Logan and Marie share together. Multiple critics discuss chemistry, how they add to the scene, etc.

Regardless of whether you ship them or not, there’s a compelling story between the two. This vulnerable, slip of a girl is the most powerful X-men out there (or one of) and this growly, fierce angry, broken man who’s been alone for so long that out of everyone he’s met and seen, THIS girl brings him to his knees.

And it’s because she isn’t scared of him.

Even after watching him beat the shit out of his opponent, even after seeing the claws threaten humans and slice through a barrel of a gun, she still thinks, I can trust him.

And when he catches her in his trailer, she STILL isn’t afraid of him. She gives him lip. She calls him out on his shit.

That’s how she manages to slide through the cracks.

And that is BEAUTIFUL.

I’m not here to talk about the performances, but Jesus Christ, I love this scene so damn much. The chemistry RADIATES. The glances, the confusion, the curiosity, and the attraction. (Sorry not sorry, it’s there on both parts, I’ll die on this hill.)

Anyway, the first movie is about how this girl brings the savage, feral Wolverine to his knees. How she gets him to STAY. How she gets him to open up.

Yes, Logan wants info on his past, but he’s staying for Marie. We all know it.

When he threatens Jean after first waking up, Jean is scared. And for good reason, obviously.

But Logan STABS Marie with his claws, and guess what? She’s still not scared of him. She’s worried about him.

This is THEIR story.

Do you really think Wolverine is going to go running around in leather for anyone but Marie? Yeah, I don’t think so. I mean, he literally STABS HIMSELF IN THE CHEST to free himself and get to her.

He PROMISES her that he’d take care of her. Do you think Wolverine bullshits? Hell no, he doesn’t.

And that’s why....

2. The whole Jean thing was just not great.

Okay, can I tell you something?

I don’t see Jean as a sympathetic character. She’s engaged to Scott and suddenly, Wolverine comes strolling in and she can’t get her shit together?

I mean, okay, I get it, let’s be real.

But Scott isn’t a bad guy. He nay be a dick, but he treats Jean well. Because we’re not in Cyclops’ or Jean’s head, we as the audience don’t see any marital/romantic issues between them. Hence, when Jean gets flustered by Wolverine to the point where she lets him goad her into reading his mind, she knows what she’s doing. She likes it. She likes Logan’s attention.

Not because she likes Logan.

(I read this fic where basically Jean tells Logan he could have been anybody, and I thought that was so perfect)

But because he’s giving her attention. He makes her feel desired.

And she leads him on.

Right there, I don’t like her, and I think that’s why a lot of Rogan shippers don’t like her is that she has no problem toying not only with Logan’s feelings, but with Scott’s.

But that’s not even the worst part of this.

At the end, when Logan asks for Marie and Jean makes her comment, she adds, “I think she’s taken with you.”

Like - why would Jean say that? Why mention it?

That’s petty ass shit right there.

To me, what she’s trying to do is align herself with Logan as adults and belittle Marie for having a little crush on him. Like it’s so juvenile.

And the worst line of this whole movie is when he says, “Tell her my heart belongs to another.”

Want to know why?

Because the writers/director haven’t SHOWN this. This line is forced here to TELL the audience that we should be shipping Jean and Wolverine. It’s sloppy writing. It tells me they think the audience are idiots.

Really, Logan?

Jean has your heart even though you completely go against Tall Dark and Feral to pick up a girl, then stay at the school with her, leave a fucking mansion to bring her back, make a promise to her, go after her after she’s kidnapped, stab yourself in the chest, fling yourself on the Statue of Liberty AND RISK YOUR FUCKING LIFE TO SAVE ROGUE’S JUST BY TOUCHING HER and you want me to believe your heart belongs to Jean????

Please, tell me, why the FUCK should I buy that?

Oh, because they’re the same age?

LOL no.

Anyway, I didn’t like Jean’s characterization because of that. Because she’s leading people on, because she needs to put down Marie’s feelings after her ordeal because of her insecurity, because of it all.

Which is why I’ll never ship them together.

Logan is at his worst when he’s around Jean.

Anyway.

And Jean is just the worst.

3. They took something meaningful and they fucked it

Logan promises to take care of Rogue. Do you know important that is for both of them as individuals and their relationship?

Rogue only goes back because of Logan. Not for anyone else. Not even Bobby. She comes back, she stays, for Logan.

Where do we see that after the second movie?

He’s so goddamned focused on Jean, on everything about her, that he barely notices that Rogue is ready to get the cure.

I’m GLAD they got a scene together. Because of their looks.

I am.

But shit.

It’s like Logan has completely forgotten all about Rogue, and I’m sorry, but after that first movie, I just can’t buy that.

I can buy that he leaves to check out his past. The dog tag scene is one of my absolute favorites. That’s perfect. Makes sense.

(Also, side note: Fic is so beautiful about this but he isn’t afraid to touch her. Like, he doesn’t HAVE to play with her hair but he does. It’s playful and flirty. It IS. He could have just said he liked her hair BUT HE HAD TO TOUCH IT. And this is HUGE for Rogue because honestly SHE’S afraid to touch and of herself but if Logan isn’t afraid, she stops being afraid - if that makes sense.)

But seriously? He’s not calling the mansion, not writing to Rogue?

I don’t believe that for one second.

This is why I will never watch The Wolverine after that first time (I refuse especially after the director said he was contemplating adding Rogue at the end and didn’t and FUCK EVERYTHING.) because he just leaves because he’s upset about fucking JEAN

I’m sorry but the Wolverine isn’t ABOUT Jean.

If that was the case, we should have had point of views between Logan and Jean in the first movie, not Rogue.

We should have SEEN their development, but we didn’t.

We’re TOLD it.

I’m sorry, but how do you want me to believe that the big bad Wolverine runs off to Japan because he’s sad about Jean? Like, so he’s just going to leave Rogue alone with all of those threats? Are you fucking kidding me?

Show them keeping in touch or SOMETHING. You can’t expect me to see such a huge transformation arc in Logan in the first movie that just gets shit on in every other movie (besides the second). Because that makes Wolverine look like a big, gigantic ASSHOLE and I get that he’s supposed to be that way, but NOT with Rogue.

Which is why Days of Future Past pisses me off as much of the rest them (I’m only discussing the Rogue Cut because I refuse to acknowledge that Bryan Singer - who gave us the first movies - regulated Rogue to such a fucking small cameo.) because Rogue was treated as garbage.

Now, I’m going to assume Logan doesn’t know about what really happened to Rogue because no one told him. But honestly? If he cares about Rogue the way I know he does, he should be asking about her every single time he and Xavier talk.

I love that Logan can sense Rogue when she steps in to help. I love that Rogue refuses to let go of Logan’s mind even in the heart of danger (@bigfrogbestfrogs has an awesome breakdown of these scenes). But I’m appalled at how Kitty is chosen before Rogue? Like, even when coming up with the idea for this movie, why not involve Rogue more?

I refuse to discuss Bobby and her together at the end.

Fuck that.

4. The timelines

Look, I’m not even going to go into the shit that is the timelines.

But honestly?

Fuck everything about that.

I get Singer wanted to retcon X3, but I don’t care.

Based on Apocalypse, the future still sucks so everything failed and then the movie LOGAN takes that shit and amplifies it.

5. LOGAN (the movie)

I’m sorry, but this movie is amazing in some ways and sucks in others.

Want to know why?

Because it takes everything about what made the first movie great and emphasized it.

Laura is too young to be a love interest, so clearly, it’s paternal, and I’m here for it.

But there are so many parallels between logan and Laura and Logan and Rogue that for Logan not to say anything or feel anything in a way tgat tells the audience he’s feeling something just boggles my mind.

Even if he carried HER picture or played with the dog tags and thought of her, something that shows the audience he remembers her, dammit, and she MEANT something to him.

But FUCK how could he NOT?

And that’s why the scene where he’s reading that comic book and he sees himself saving Rogue is so poignant.

Because his gaze lingers.

I mean, obviously I’m assuming she’s dead (which is bullshit but whatever). But still.

And then when he’s dying and Laura is holding his hands and you get that prophecy of him dying with his heart in his hand and I loved how they paired it with the Logan and Rogue song. I loved that callback.

And if the films in between them weren’t such shit, it would be enough.

But it’s not enough for me.

There was so much potential and everything got shit on and it angers me soooo much.

Anyway.

That’s me venting.

Luckily we have so many talented Rogan fic writers and that our ship has survived 20 years.

But still.

What could have been...

Shit.