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fangtasticgurl · 1 year

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Keep Calm and Get Bitten

Ethan gets a vision when he lets Sarah drink his blood, and it changes everything…

Chapter 3

Chapter 1: ♡

Chapter 2: ♡

Word Count: 2035

You can also read it on ao3 here: ♡

After an evening of movie-watching and hectic driving to stop the bomb that is Benny's digestive system from destroying her auntie's car, the quiet drive home was much needed for Sarah. She put on the radio, to a station that was halfway through "Hey, Soul Sister" by Train. Knowing the song by heart, she jumped in with the music, singing along with a shy, yet sweet voice. As Maroon 5's "She Will Be Loved" came on, she felt her heart become heavier with the mood of the mellowed intro.

Beauty queen of only eighteen She had some trouble with herself He was always there to help her She always belonged to someone else

As the song continued, her mind began to wander.

She started to imagine a story where she was the girl in the song, sitting alone on a doorstep in the rain, alone. The girl thinks no one loves her, and she starts to cry. She cries until the rain and her tears falling down her face become indistinguishable from each other. She doesn't know that there's someone who can't get her out of his mind. And he can't take it anymore. He takes an umbrella lying near the front door and bursts out the house.

I drove for miles and miles And wound up at your door I've had you so many times But somehow, I want more

Between her sobs, she hears puddles splashing in the distance. As the sounds get closer, she hears the footsteps causing the splashing noises. Thinking this was just another passer-by, she doesn't bother looking up to see who it was. But instead of walking past her, the person stops. He says her name.

I don't mind spending every day Out in your corner in the pouring rain Look for the girl with the broken smile Ask her if she wants to stay awhile

The girl looks up and sees a boy with the kindest brown eyes she's ever seen, looking down at her with a sheepish, lopsided smile, holding an umbrella big enough to cover both of their heads. His baggy pants are soaked below the knee from running all this way through the downpour to see her.

And she will be loved And she will be loved

Sarah sung those lyrics from the bottom of her heart, as if she were saying it to herself.

By the time she approached the street of her house, the song had ended and was now playing "Brave" by Sara Bareilles. Pulling up to her driveway, she noticed her mom's car wasn't there. She's working late again, she realized.

Her relationship with her mother has become uncomfortably rocky since she dated her ex-boyfriend Jesse. Her mom didn't like him. Like, at all. She didn't like the way he looked at her, and talked to her. Sarah, naive and in love, wanted to do everything she could to keep her perfect Dusk romance. After all the months of arguments, secrets, and sneaking around, all that was left was an open wound in her relationship with her mom that she couldn't bring herself to face right now. It seemed like her mom couldn't, either.

She turned the keys to shut off the engine. Sarah grabbed her messenger bag and rushed out of the car, dashing to the front door. She may be a vampire, but she hated being in the dark, especially if she was alone.

As she came in, the smell of, well, something, came to her from the kitchen.

When a person becomes a vampire, their senses of taste and smell change dramatically, and all the scents and flavors they're familiar with become completely unknown. What once tasted and smelled like their favorite food could become something they hate, and vice versa. It takes some serious getting used to.

Sarah hung her keys one of the hooks by her front door. The numerous, bedazzled keychains dangling from it made it sparkle and twinkle. She took off her boots, setting them down next to her dad's worn-out work boots with a loud enough thud for her dad to be able to hear from the kitchen.

"I'm home!"

She made her way to the kitchen. Even when she wasn't wearing heeled boots, she had a habit of walking around the house on her tippy-toes. Something about it made her feel dainty. She saw her dad hunched over some paperwork on the counter. When he noticed her, he looked up from his reading glasses and smiled.

"Hey, sweetheart! How was the movie? Dinner's almost ready, we're having lasagna." he said, as a little kitchen timer made to look like a tomato sat nearby, ticking away.

So this is what lasagna smells like now, Sarah thought to herself. Noted. Definitely different, but not bad.

"Movie was okay. We saw the third Diary of a Wimpy Kid movie."

"That's the one about the girl with the diary you used to be obsessed with?"

"No, dad, that's Dork Diaries."

"Ah, I see. So which one is this one, again?"

After a few minutes of explaining the story and lore of Diary of a Wimpy Kid to her dad, she walked up the stairs and into her room. She took out her laptop and iPod and hung her bag on a hook attached to the door. She leaped into the sweet embrace of her comfy bed.

She had a lot of make-up homework to do. But she thought to herself, just a few minutes of looking at Pinterest to unwind wouldn't hurt.

She put on her earbuds and looked for a playlist on her iPod, eventually deciding to play her "Daydreaming" playlist on shuffle. "A Thousand Years" by Christina Perri played as she scrolled through images of pretty outfits and decor, saving the ones she liked into her various collections organized by aesthetic. Occasionally, she'd find a post for a DIY project that she would save into her ever-growing collection of tutorials she'd totally, someday, come back to. A smile formed on her face as she softly sung along to the lyrics. She felt like a princess up in a tower, dreaming about her happily ever after. And just like a princess in a fairytale, with Ethan's vision, she had been given a look into the future!

But the next song that played on her iPod brought her fairytale to a halt. The intro for "Love Story" by Taylor Swift played, and she froze. Perhaps the song was fine by itself, but for Sarah, it brought back vivid memories of her time with Jesse.

One night, she was sitting in front of the mirror vanity. All the lights were turned off, except for the vanity mirror shining on her face, as she checked herself out in the mirror. Jesse sat on the little nook by her window, watching her intently. She just finished straightening and styling her hair into a half-up, half-down with a halo braid. Jesse loved hairstyles like those. She heard him get up. Her reflection was still alone, but she felt two hands on her shoulders, and the presence of someone tall standing behind her.

"You know who you remind me of?" Jesse murmured.

Sarah tilted her head, "Who?"

"Have you heard the story of Romeo and Juliet?"

"Duh! Everyone and their grandmother have heard of it. I bet you were around when it was written."

Jesse chuckled.

"Well, you remind me of the beautiful Juliet, with your hair like that."

Sarah blushed, smiling at the ground shyly.

"Does that make you my Romeo?" she said.

"Of course."

"I mean, except for the part where they both die in the end, obviously." Sarah joked. Jesse laughed.

To be reminded that she used to see things like that as incredibly romantic sent shivers down her spine. As Sarah came back to the present, she realized she'd been staring at her lack of a reflection from that same mirror. Her dimly lit room and the chill breeze of the open window was starting to make her feel uneasy, so she got up to turn on the lights and close her window, turning the latch so it was locked. As soon as she got back onto her bed, she stopped the song and deleted it from her playlist.

"Let's try this again." she sighed to herself, pressing shuffle on her playlist again.

This time, the song that played was the Twilight Princess' version of the Great Fairy's fountain theme from the Legend of Zelda. The widest smile formed on Sarah's face. This was so Ethan's doing.

Ever since she found out about Rockbox, and all of the customizing that can be done with it, she'd beg Ethan to install it on her iPod. It was no longer enough to just have a cute, bedazzled case. Eventually, he came around to doing it while adding his own geeky touch to the whole thing. Along with being able to download the cutest custom theme she could find, Rockbox made it so that you no longer had to buy songs from iTunes to listen to them, so along with a bunch of songs Sarah asked him to download, he put some video game soundtracks in her iPod that he felt she'd like. And she totally did. She imagined herself endlessly flying and twirling in the prettiest pale-pink dress in a forest.

She had never played a single Legend of Zelda game, but now she wanted to. She always thought the Twilight Princess game looked so pretty. Maybe she could ask Ethan to help show her how to play during the weekend. Just the two of them, with nothing but the sounds of the game and the sound of Ethan's voice guiding her though it, and the occasional touch of his hand on hers as he helps her with the controls.

Sarah felt her face grow hot, and she had the widest smile on her face. She shook the thought from her head. She took out her phone and opened her messages as she started typing a message to Erica.

what does it mean when a guy tells u smth good is abt to happen, but he cant tell me what it is?

The typing indicator bubble showed up on Erica's side immediately. Then it disappeared. And then a few seconds later, Erica was calling her. She sat up on her bed as she answered.

"Is this about Ethan? Is he the guy?" asked Erica.

"Um, yeah."

"Tell me what happened." Erica demanded, like some kind of detective. So she did. After Sarah finishes telling her everything that happened that evening, Erica started her response with a heavy sigh.

"I think he's lying."

"What?" Sarah felt her heart sink, "Why?"

"Think about it. Since when has Ethan ever had a good vision?"

"We don't know for sure if Ethan can only have bad visions," Sarah defended, "We barely know anything about his powers. I dont think even he knows."

"What kind of happy visions can you get from getting your blood drained? I don't think my dates would have any pleasant visions."

"It wasn't. A date." Sarah grumbled, "And you kill your dates, so that's completely different."

"Whatever. That's my advice. I gotta go. I'm kindof on a date right now, and my food's running away from me. See ya."

Erica hung up before she could say goodbye. Sarah rolled her eyes and scoffed. That wasn't even advice! She fell back onto her bed with a frustrated sigh. What would Erica know about Ethan? She can't even stand to breathe the same air as him!

Sarah wanted to completely dismiss what Erica told her, yet she couldn't help but feel like she was just the princess in denial of the dark, stormy clouds forming over her perfect fairytale kingdom.

#my babysitters a vampire #my babysitter's a vampire #mbav #sarah fox #erica jones #mbav fanfic #Keep Calm and Get Bitten

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chrisevansluv · 3 years

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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

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?"

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!"

"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.'"

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.

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

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?"

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.

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."

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!

#chris evans #cevans #Details Magazine #2012 #interview

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starglitterz · 3 years

Note

others were never really patient with her form of amusement.

zhongli, the funeral consultant who always seemed like something greater, had never been patient with her. qiqi has never been fond of her attempts to return her to eternal rest. the exorcist chongyun has always been irritated with her. xiangling remains annoyed by her pranks, even if she harbors no ill will towards her. one of the few people who can tolerate her, adeptus xiao, shows no interest in actually establishing a relationship with her (or being kind, but hu tao would never say that. she doesn't need the ill will of the adepti directed at her!).

but you? you had never looked at her with distaste or annoyance. so... why are you starting now?

hu tao isn't foolish. she knows when it started. she just doesn't understand how you fell from her fingertips. she treated you as gently as she treats the flower she sticks in her hat, trying to cultivate your love with care. hu tao wasn't the perfect lover, but she certainly tried her best. she even wrote you poetry of her own creation, even if the words were childish.

a silk flower sits beneath a tree. right next to it, you and me! hand in hand, like we always do. never forget, quill, i love you!

hu tao would say the poem incessantly in a playful, sing-song tone, yet a faint hint of seriousness would be behind her words. after all, they were woven from the words of truth. they still are, even if your heart belong to someone else the moment the crux returned to liyue. kaedehara kazuha and you met at the wangsheng funeral parlor of all places, where he had smiled at you so softly and spoken to you with such sweetness.

you had grown distant from hu tao and closer to the inazuman outcast. hu tao watched as you grew attached to him, despite being committed to her. she watched as you betrayed her before her eyes, offering her a half-hearted apology as you returned everything she gave you. you didn't mean it. you weren't sorry. you had used hu tao for everything she was worth than left once a better option came along. kazuha ignites the stars in your eyes.

and for hu tao? she's left to deal with the corpse of your love. despite her experience with death, she doesn't quite know how to put these feelings to rest. you betrayed her, yet she loves you. if you were to return, she would take you back in her arms.

"overseer," a voice interrupts hu tao's spiraling thoughts as she stands in the lobby of the wangsheng funeral parlor. "are you alright?"

it's the familiar voice of zhongli. she knows he cannot stand her, yet he's also kind enough to inquire whenever he sees anguish. is she that pathetic that she requires his assistance.

"just peachy! i'm doing quite well, actua-" hu tao begins, but her voice cracks on the final syllable. tears well up in her eyes and she pauses, not wanting to make a pathetic display of herself in front of her underling. but the honeyed gaze of zhongli is too much. it reads her entirely. he knows. he knows you left. he wouldn't look at her with such a pitying gaze otherwise.

the consultant steps forward and envelops her smaller frame in a hug. it is comforting, despite the rift that exists between him. hu tao can't stop herself as a sob breaks out of her. no words exit her lips, only broken cries.

"a true lover would not break the unspoken contract of a relationship," zhongli advises, but hu tao shakes her head. her hands scrabble to get a grip on his back, hugging him close and desperately as she unprofessionally breaks down.

"i don't want a true lover, i want quill," she cries. zhongli remains steady, holding her close. she cannot see his face as she buries her head into the expensive fabric of his coat. is he disappointed in her? annoyed? angry? she doesn't know.

she ruins her relationships with everyone. she couldn't even keep you. what's another bridge burnt? zhongli will keep returning anyways. he needs a paycheck.

yet, she can't see the solemn expression that crosses his face. it's one of understanding. even if he still had his gnosis, there are some wishes that an archon cannot grant. humanity are fickle creatures. their emotions are untamed and their whims are difficult to understand. but, for now, zhongli is knowledgeable enough to know that hu tao needs a friend as she heals from the wounds that you inflicted on her.

so, he stands with her as she sobs in the halls of the wangsheng funeral parlor, the same place you met the man that you left her for.

can some archon please give me the strength i need to get through this ebg week 😭😭😭

okay

OKAY

OKAY !!!!!!!

yes i love kazuha he completely bewitched me and stole my heart from whoever had it prior to this,,, just kidding i have always loved kazuha with my entire soul and being haha idk why some funeral parlour owner is sad abt me haha

wow kazuha is looking So pretty today right 😄😄😄 also axia idk if ur ask got attacked by tumblr but its so blurry for some reason :/// might be bc im looking at it through tears though BUT OFC i am crying bc kazuhas beautiful poetry brought me to tears no other reason like angst of a specific person yknow

shoutout to zhongli for being there for his friends ig 😕 he's a real one unlike some mutual named axia purposefully trying to hurt me 🙄

IM NOT GIVING YOU MY NEXT STRIKE YOU AREN'T GOING TO MAKE ME LOSE

#WOW OKAY SO THATS HOW YOU WANNA PLAY IT HUH #i am literally #in tears #CRYING SM RN !!!!!!!!!#I HATE IT HERE #OKAY THEN #FINE #starts sobbing #ILL GET YOU TOMORROW #💌 — love letters !#axia💌#❄ — ebg !

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hillbillyhippiemusicreview · 4 years

Text

Post #46—Them Dirty Roses: Locked Down & Unplugged LIVE

“Cause I found the wind that blows, It’s blowin’ me back home 🎶”

Nashville-based southern rockers Them Dirty Roses recently let the wind blow them back to the Bama clay they were raised on for two consecutive nights of sold out shows at Sidetracks Music Hall in Huntsville, AL. General manager/talent buyer Shane Bickel was eager to re-open and provide both musicians and fans alike a safe, socially-distanced outlet for music, so Hillbilly Hippie Music Review made the trek there via Indiana and L.A. (that’s lower Alabama) to enjoy a couple nights of tunes post-lockdown.

Deemed “Locked Down & Unplugged LIVE,” the set of acoustic shows was the perfect, albeit different, way to kick off the return of live music—especially since HHMR’s last show before the nation-wide pandemic lockdown was in March with TDR at Sidetracks. Total full circle kind of moment, and one we wish we could have frozen in time. But, I’ve got to be frank—despite being a total glutton for acoustic music, I wasn’t quite sure what to expect, being that everything had changed so quickly. Would people hesitate to interact? Would we dance and sing or sit there like statues? Would the energy in the room be relaxed or tightly-wound? At first, there was a bit of an unsure current in the air, but before long, everyone was loosened up and moving to the groove in their seats and all the ladies made their way to the stage to end each night with “Shake It,” a TDR ritual.

Before we dive into the specifics of the weekend, here’s a little background for readers unfamiliar with TDR: Brothers James Ford (vocals and guitar) and Frank Ford (drums) formed Them Dirty Roses with their friends Andrew Davis (guitar) and Ben Crain (bass) in Gadsden, AL circa 2012 prior to moving to Tennessee to travel the country playing their brand of rock and roll and finding success both stateside and across Europe. Their sound is a bit southern rock heavy laden with outlaw vibes, and a bit party band mixed with a penchant for slower, sentimental jams—in other words, it’s eclectic and every bit as unique as the four men who form the band. However you describe it, a TDR show is always a good time—and it only takes one to get hooked on the electric energy these guys bring to the stage. On June 5th and 6th in a little venue off by the railroad tracks in Rocket City, the vibe was killer and the feeling was out of this world. Not only were the fans ready to rock, but the band was ecstatic and thankful to be back in action.

HHMR contributor Linda Owen’s first-ever TDR show was March 13–the night the country shut down due to the pandemic. She has the unique perspective of experiencing the “typical” wide-open TDR show and the stripped, intimate version back to back. Here’s what she had to say:

“Three months without live music—I know I slowly watched myself go from the happiest most optimistic person I knew, to a complete mess. It may have seemed like I was okay, but I assure you I was not.

I’ve always known how much music has impacted my life. It has always brought me the greatest memories and blessed me with many friendships and there were so many times in my life where the only thing I had to hold on to was a song. Three months without my music family was torture. With that being said I'll never forget my first shows post-COVID-19. Ironically, the first post -COVID-19 show was at the same venue with the same band I saw pre-COVID-19, and it was perfect.

Let me set the scene. Sidetracks Music Hall is the kind of local music hall we all want in our hometowns: you feel at home as soon as you walk in, you are treated like family, and it has by far the friendliest staff and patrons of any place I've been to date. The venue possesses a large open floor plan with the bar area in the back, so there is not a bad spot to see the show. For this show in particular, tables are spread about what is normally the "pit" area. To be honest, I was a little nervous that this social distancing acoustic show wouldn’t quite fill that void that COVID-19 has left me feeling...I was so wrong. After getting settled in with a drink, my sidekick Lyssa and I did some mingling getting to talk to new-to-me friends that I'd made three months previously at the last show I had attended. The excitement in the room was palatable—and it only got better from there.

TDR hit the stage and you could feel the spirits of every single person in the room glowing around you. All the doubts that an acoustic show wasn't going to feel right with social distancing rules melted away! We danced and sang along like those tables weren't in the way the first night. "Whiskey in My Cup" "Grew Up In The Country" and "Molly" had us all on our feet grooving. We were treated to covers by The Black Crowes, Jason Isbell, and The Allman Brothers, in addition to fan favorites and new songs from their upcoming album expected to release in September—and we are stoked for it.

My heart and soul were happier those two nights than they'd been for the past three months. I sang my way back to Indiana..caught myself sing at work on Monday too!”

The magic wasn’t solely felt by the HHMR team—the air was saturated with it and everyone in the room had a taste that left them yearning for more. Below are a few comments from TDR fans:

“The first show post lock-down came with more enjoyment than just the music. We were super excited for the chance to get back out and hear live music! Them Dirty Roses were the last band we got to see prior to the lock-down. Now, it turns out that Them Dirty Roses would be the first post lock-down. The music was great! What we didn't anticipate was the joy it also brought by seeing so many friends with smiling faces! It was amazing to be seen again and to hear two nights of wonderful tunes!”

—Bud Gambrell

“Went to the Friday show and it was a group of guys that were ready for a show. They were the last band we saw before the Coronavirus shut things down in Huntsville. Looking forward to seeing them again.”

—Kevin Boyd

“The first show post quarantine was like something wonderful that I had been deprived of for a long time. I think sometimes we don't see how many things that surround us in life we take for granted. I see at least two live music shows a month. During the summer, I probably go to 2-3 shows a week. Honestly, it seemed like such a wonderful release and something that people needed. Everybody has something that feeds their spirit—mine is music. Being deprived of other people and the things we love are just some of the things that add to that depression that comes with the whole quarantine/covid situation. So, being around friends and music felt really great and normal. It seemed like life may be getting back to normal finally. I smiled all night!”

—Jerolyn Davis

“Needless to say, Them Dirty Roses put on one hell of a show two nights in a row, which was just what I needed after the almost three month drought of no live music! The fact that they were the last live show for me before everything shut down is kinda ironic and cool at the same time. I'm also very thankful to Sidetracks for putting on the shows, they rock!”

—Robin Huff

Guitarist Andrew Davis was on the same wavelength as many in attendance. When asked his thoughts on performing again post-pandemic, he said: “In March, the future of the entire industry was uncertain. We all knew that April was going to be postponed, but we couldn't even imagine postponing or cancelling the entire festival season. Then, weeks later, exactly that happened. With all of the uncertainty surrounding the future of our industry, it was very reassuring to get back out and play again. It definitely answered a lot of lingering questions about whether or not people would rush back to live venues.”

After last weekend, it seems life will slowly, but surely, get back on track and all will be right in our world again. Until that day comes, be sure to support live music and independent venues—such as Sidetracks who has hosted many fabulous performers like Anderson East, The Steel Woods, Black Stone Cherry, Adam Hood, Kingfish, Ritch Henderson, Muscadine Bloodline, Whitey Morgan and the 78s, and many, many more in addition to TDR—in whatever manner you can so that we have them to return to when COVID-19 restrictions are lifted nation-wide. And don’t forget to keep your eyes peeled for that new Them Dirty Roses record to release this fall—it’s without a doubt some of their best work. In the meantime, keep up with the band and their tour schedule at www.themdirtyroses.com and @themdirtyroses on both Facebook and Instagram.

As always, stay safe, spread love, and be kind to one another. See y’all down the road!

✌🏻💙🎶—Lyssa

*This is an independent review. The Hillbilly Hippie Music Review was not compensated for this review.

*The opinions expressed are solely that of the author(s).

*Fan quotes have been edited for conciseness and clarity.

*These images are not ours, not do we claim them in any way. They are copyrighted by Todd Dean with Butterdean Photography, Linda Owens, & Lyssa Culbertson.

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