Pairings: Marc Spector/Original Male Character, Steven Grant/Original Male Character, Bucky Barnes/Sam Wilson
Warnings: non-descript depiction of violence, swearing
Words: 4585
A/n: why did I write this much. bouncing up and down like a rubber ball being thrown around by a hyperactive 4 year old. Which is essentially me. Help
_________________________________________
“You do know that what you’re doing here is illegal, right?”
Cem frowned. Many would say that facial expressions were readable, but truthfully, the cook felt rather illiterate at the moment.
Still, some kind of sense should be able to be made out of the mans drawn together eyebrows, observant eyes and pearly whites peaking out from the left corner.
“Not per se, no.”, he tried to argue as he adjusted his stance. “Looking you up on Twitter and finding your nephews account isn’t what I’d call illegal. Well, actually, it kinda is- would be- if I did it for like, you know, weird reasons.”
Another man entered the room. His expression was much more readable than the first guys’; Cem was very much fluent in One-Wrong-Move-And-I’ll-Whoop-Your-Ass, and he really hoped this wouldn’t end up in a scuffle.
Because he, without a doubt, would loose. Better clear this up quick then.
Raising his hands, he took a step backwards.
“Uhm, what I actually wanted to say; I need your help.”
Quick and spot-on, like ripping off a bandaid. Silence, sticky as the remnants of adhesive clinging to the skin, followed.
The men exchanged a look.
“Help? What kind of help? You know the Avengers aren’t your personal guard dogs to beat up sleazy landlords for you.”, Samuel Wilson finally spoke, crossing his arms. The man to his left, James Buchanan Barnes, chuckled.
“Exactly, that’s Jones’ job.”, he snickered, earning a shove.
Cem relaxed, if only slightly. At least they didn’t look as if they were about to beat his ass to a pulp anymore.
“Okay, okay.”, Barnes started again, feigning hurt as he rubbed at his vibranium shoulder. “You gotta use your words man. Help’s got a pretty broad definition, ya’ know? You gotta be more specific.”
Yeah, right. He did have a point with that. The cook shifted again, putting his weight from the right foot on the left.
“Yeah, um, maybe we could sit down for that? If you’re okay with it, of course. Because… it’s a damn long story.”
_______________________________________
Bucky nipped on his beer, the taste of alcohol on his tongue faint, but welcome. Sure, a Heineken was no match for his superhuman metabolism, though he couldn’t help but savour the miniscule amounts of ethanol in his system.
“Okay, so I think I got this part.”, he mused, setting down the bottle. “Your husband developed multiple alters whom you get along with or don’t, depends. And you want to get them professional help.”
The guy across from him, Cem, as he’d learned, shifted his head slighty to and fro, a frown written all over his features.
“Yeah, for the most part. We’re not sure how many alters there are yet, though.”
Now it was Sam’s turn to frown.
“That’s good and all…”, he spoke, taking a swig from his bottle aswell. “But how can we help you with that? I’m sure there’s a lot of qualified psychiatrists and therapists where you’re from, you wouldn’t really need the Avengers help to get a refferal.”
To their surprise the man in front of them flustered, a hand reaching up to rub at his neck awkwardly.
“Ah, well, how do I put this-”, Cem babbled, now nervously biting his lip and cramming around in his pockets. “Maybe it’s best I just show it to you. I can- I can trust you guys, right?”
See, if you’d have asked Sam to make a list of values most important to him, loyalty would be in the top three, no doubt. The guy would rather fight a murderous, mind-controlled supersoldier than break the trust placed into him, Bucky thought with fondness.
“If there’s someone you can trust, it’s this guy right here.”, the man proudly declared as he threw an arm over Sam’s shoulders. “You can trust me too, because if I’d break it, Sammy here would beat my ass.”
With growing satisfaction, Bucky noticed the tension in Cems body to fall, his chest rising with a deep breath.
“Okay, okay. Um, here- wait, it’s not turning full-screen… there!”
A phone was placed in front of them, the screen protector sporting a single, offensive crack from left to right. On the screen itself however, something else was going on.
A bathroom. Big, lots of mirrors and sinks. Then finally-
Screaming, banging, the sounds of stuff breaking. The door to the bathroom swung open and a man stumbled in, clutching at his arm and looking around with wild, panicked eyes.
“Who’s tha-”
“Shush!”
As if on cue, Steven animatedly started to talk to Marc, or rather, yelling at him. It took a moment for the two Avengers to realize this and that the man on screen was not, in fact, talking to himself.
Banging. Heavy banging. Debris flew towards the panicked man, but he didn’t seem to care much. His eyes were fixated on the mirrors, his reflexion, but Cem knew better.
Bucky cocked his head.
“Really don’t wanna know what’s behind this door if I’m being honest.”
Instead of shushing him, Sam seemed to be too invested in watching the screen and might’ve actually agreed with the other.
Then it happened, almost all too fast.
The walls flickering with ancient hieroglyphs, swallowing the offensive neon lights overhead; Steven going slack-jawed, his head tipping backwards with his eyes wide open; the door bursting from it’s hinges - something entirely made a claws and teeth and hatred launching itself at the man, tearing him to the ground with all but a single care about his wellbeing.
Cem flinched, looking at the horrified faces of the men in front of him. He had too, the first time Marc had shown him the recording. Which may or may not have resulted in a very tear-filled night and also several threats towards a certain someone.
An agonized howl ripped the cook from his thoughts, redirecting his attention to the jakal having been kicked off of the man in a fairly frightening display of strength.
He stood, eyes glowing with nothing but godly light and determination as bandages from beyond their plane of existence wrapped themselves around his body, covering every inch of skin that was to be seen.
Marc didn’t waste a second to grab hold of the jakals hind legs, dragging it back into the bathroom to deliver blow after blow, increasing in fatality.
A last, pained wheeze, then; finally. The jakals body went limp, even the last twitches of pain subsiding.
The recording cut off just as Marc looked at the camera, the bandages and armor and otherwordly glow dissapearing until he was just a Marc again.
Silence.
“I know this is a lot to take in, but -”
“That was the freakiest shit I’ve ever seen!”, Sam interrupted the turk, face one of pure exasperation. “And- I’ve met a wizard, dude!”
“You’ve met a wizard dude?”
“Well he’s- nevermind. But, can you like, explain to us what the hell that just was?”, Bucky chimed in aswell. His previously emptied bottle was swiftly replaced by a new one.
Cem reached for his first.
“Okay, um, you know how I told you how Marc has DID?”
Both men nodded, something along the lines of “Duh.” written all over their faces.
“Still doesn’t explains how he turned into Casper and beat the shit out of this giant ass dog.”, Sam challenged, crossing his arms in front of his chest.
Oh dear.
“Ah…”, the cook fumbled with a bottle cab, tracing his thumb across the outer ridges. “Told you guys it was a long story. So, uh, Marc and I went to the Marines together. Was alright until he got discharged for his ‘history of mental illness’.”, Cem mocked, mimicking quotation marks with his fingers. “Anyway, we got married and joined CIA right after. Wasn’t really ours either so we ditched and he went to being a merc. That went well until-”
He stopped, blinking rapidly and licking his lips. He’d almost forgotten how much he hated talking about this part simply because of the horrid memories, but it couldn’t be avoided. Not if he genuinely wanted to get them the help they need.
Cem startled when a hand found his shoulder. He looked up to see Sam smiling at him, kind and carrying. Hmm. Bucky really seemed to have been truthfull when he’d proclaimed the others undying pledge to loyalty and kindness.
“Easy, dude, we got plenty of time. My sister and nephews will be here in ten, I’m sure she won’t mind us slackin’ a bit, okay?”, the Captain assured Cem as he squeezed his shoulder lightly.
Given how nice Sam was (and what he’d seen on his nephews Twitter), his sister surely would be as nice of a person as he’d envisioned.
A warm breeze caught them, tiny droplets of water sprinkling their faces like freckles. Cem had been too caught up in trying not to invoke the Avengers’ fury upon himself and his loves, that he’d completely missed to admire his surroundings.
The dock was hardy. Well loved too. Every blemish the cook had spotted had been taken care of; a slightly lighter colored plank, glistening nails and freshly painted handrails. People were out and about. Repairing the smaller boats, no bothering with the big one that had PAUL & DARLENE written on the side. A bunch of elderly men loudly arguing about the repair of a truck one of them had recently purchased. Children chasing after each other, their feet trampling over the weathered plank and almost crashing into a woman carrying a fairly delicious smelling pot.
As if on cue, Cems stomach rumbled.
The woman approached them, enamel pot now expertly balanced on her hip as she lifted her finger to her lips, daring the cook to say something.
Creeping closer and closer -
“Hey, where’s your husband if you don’t mind me- GOD DAMNIT! Sarah!”
Sam jumped in his seat upon being grabbed by the neck like a misbehaving kitten, his shoulders scrunching up in an instant. Both Bucky and the woman burst out laughing, the later letting him out of her grip only to ruffle over his buzzcut.
Must be his sister, then.
“Hi!” Cem stood, maybe a little too fast, laying his hand over his heart and then extending it towards her, a most welcoming smile exposing his teeth. “I’m Cem, nice to meet you!”
She took his hand, an equally as warm smile on her face.
“Nice to meet you, I’m Sarah, Sam’s sister. Did he try to invite you to the cookout already?”
Bucky snickered, obviously used to these kinds of conversation.
“Ah, not really.”, the cook confessed, scratching at his chin. “Just needed some help and I figured they could help me.”
He shrugged. Somehow this whole ordeal was starting to feel weird. Sure, he’d been really desperate (still was) when he’d sought them out for help, but that didn’t justify borderline stalking them on social media and showing up at their home uninvited.
The three exchanged a look, obviously aware of Cem’s inner turmoil. Given how none of the boys said anything, Sarah had to take matters into her own hands.
“Hey.”, she offered, putting a hand on the cooks shoulder. “Listen, how about you actually come to the cookout as I said? Everything’s better with food and I’m sure we’ll find a solution for your problem. 'kay?”
To put it mildly, Cem was stunned.
“I- yeah, yeah, that sounds… that sounds nice… uhm, can I by any chance bring someone? We can bring food aswell!”
_______________________________________
Marc hummed in approval as he finished licking the spoon his husband had just handed him clean, putting it in the hotel room sink next to the other used utensils.
So far, he had yet to discover a flaw in being married to a Michelin star chef.
Except for not being allowed to eat the curry because it was for a cookout, that was.
“You know I’m gonna be really mad if I don’t get to eat half of that later, right?”
Cem chuckled as he walked over to the mercenary and pressed a kiss to his cheek, his arm sneaking around his waist.
“Don’t you dare make a scene, you know damn well I could cook this for you anytime.”, he scolded playfully. “There’s also two Avengers there and I’m really not trying to get on their bad side.”
Marc huffed, turning in his husband’s hold to be able to look at him properly.
“I would never.”, he feigned innocence, though it was clearly betrayed by the sly smile on his face.
Cem rolled his eyes. He knew Marc was just messing with him, but he wasn’t going to be mad about it either. Instead he leaned forward, capturing his husbands lips in a tender kiss. The mercenary positively melted, his hand coming up to run his fingers through the short hair on the back of his head.
“Do we really have to go?”, Marc complained against his husbands lips, earning a mix between a groan and a chuckle. “We put on a movie, make it all nice and cozy, share that delicious kosher thai-curry you made…”
Dammit, why did he have to be so convincing? No, he had to be strong. Never show weakness.
“You know we can’t do that love.”, Cem shut the other down, as much as it pained him to do so. “Also, they seemed like genuinely nice people. I’m sure they can help.”
Marc nodded, but seemed… inattentive. His focus straying somewhere else. Following his line of view, Cem found his husband looking at the reflective surface of the hotel room dinner table; either not paying attention or speaking to one of the others.
Where they about to switch?
The cook carefully entangled himself from their embrace, putting a respectable distance in between them in case he’d be met with an alter he wasn’t… well, in a relationship with. Still, a hand on his upper arm remained to show Marc that he was still there, that he wasn’t leaving.
His lashes started fluttering; a telltale sign that someone different was about to front. A small twitch of his cheek, his breathing slowing.
Cem waited patiently as the other stood still. It had been some time since someone other than Marc had fronted, not since they’d left their appartement to catch their flight to Louisiana.
Their more or less spontaneous vacation had been booked immediately after Nazan, Cems sister, had excitedly called them to tell them that she was pregnant again.
See, you might’ve noticed already, but in this household the cook was the one with the best and most spontaneous ideas. This included booking a flight four days earlier than needed and not, as some might deem responsible adult behavior, to New York where Nazan and her husband had recently moved to, but instead to Louisiana.
To… pay some Avengers a surprise visit and ask for mental health care professional recommendations.
You know, like everyone would.
Cem looked back up and noticed that the others irises had dissapeared almost completely, his lashes still fluttering, if only lightly.
He blinked. Again. And again.
Finally, dark brown looked up, meeting Cem’s. A smile spread over his face, and the cook immediately recognized that expression.
“Well hello there…”, he greeted Steven, the corners of his mouth lifting aswell. The gift-shopist wasted no time to wrap Cem in his arms in a rather unusual display of impetuousity, burrying his face in the crook of his neck. Startled, but not negatively so, the taller reciprocrated, burying his face in the crook of Steven’s neck aswell.
“You alright?”, Cem whispered. The man nodded against the fabric of his shirt, drawing a deep breath.
A comfortable silence blanketed the two, the only sounds coming from the cook rubbing soothing circles into Steven’s back.
“We should start getting ready.”, he explained. “I told them we’d be there around five. That okay for you?”
Again, a nod.
“Yeah, yeah… Marc said they were nice?”, Steven asked, untangling himself from their embrace while fumbling with the fabric of the taller mans shirt.
Now it was Cems turn to nod in confirmation.
“Well, they were a bit intimidating at first, but they seem pretty okay. They’ve got those murderous looks down though, especially Barnes.”
Steven chuckled.
Yeah, maybe this wasn’t gonna be that bad.
_______________________________________
“You think this was a good idea?”
Sam looked up to where the other was standing in the doorway of the cabin, arms crossed over his chest.
“What, inviting Cem and Casper to the cookout?”, he replied sarcastically, tucking the photo he’d been looking at back into the window frame. Bucky shot him a look.
“No, buying only three packs of corn for the shrimp boil. Of course I mean them!”
The more or less newly minted Cap snorted, shaking his head. A small wave rocked the boat gently, but not nearly hard enough to throw the two men of balance. Neither could the soft breeze wafting through the cabin and out the window, filling their lungs with warm, salty air. Sam savored the taste as he made his way over to Bucky and gently placed a hand over his still crossed arms. The later scowled, averting his eyes.
“What if he loses control?”, he murmured, still not looking at Sam. “What if someone gets injured, hm? We’ve both seen the guy beat the shit out of that giant ass coyote.”
“It was a jackal, Buck. And I’m very sure Cem only wants to find help for his partners and that they’re not trying to do any harm. Very sure.” Bucky grumbled something under his breath, still not entirely convinced. “He also said that they can control themselves at all times, you know tha-”
“Sam, Bucky! Get your asses out here, the truck doesn’t unload itself!”
Both men groaned in unison. Almost managed to sneak away without being noticed, but no.
“Why’s Sarah so damn observant?”, the older groaned, tipping his head backwards until it hit the doorframe.
Sam snickered in agreement. Leaning forward he pressed a kiss to the other man’s cheek, staying close to his ear.
“Can’t wait 'til she busts out the toddler leashes. Did-”
“Sam!”
“Coming!”
_______________________________________
If Steven had really desired a concussion, he could’ve just rested his head against the bus window.
Thing was, he didn’t, and Cems shoulder was much more comfortable. He sighed as he made himself comfortable, his forehead resting against the others neck with his arm now around Steven’s shoulders.
The anxiety of being affectionate in public had faded from the first time they’d been out together, but it was still very much there. Sure, they had a lot of privileges and didn’t need to be nearly as cautious as others; still, even the faintest hint of a nasty look made Steven’s stomach turn.
Something, movement in his peripheral, caught his attention.
“Your think too much.”, Marc said nonchalantly, stifling a yawn.
“You say that as if it’s something new.”, another voice piped up. Where was… there. Jake’s face, distorted slightly by the single crack, looked at him from the black screen of Cems phone.
The gift-shopist remained quiet, shrugging as his only reaction. A sigh.
“We should sleep more.”, Marc tried to start up the conversation again. “Maybe getting a shrink is really not a bad idea.”
No one said anything, but the others… actually agreed. They couldn’t keep using Cem as their unpaid personal therapist anymore, that couldn’t be good for any of them. Besides, getting out of their little circle and meeting new people didn’t seem like that bad of an idea. Even Marc and Steven had caved after a, rather surprising, agreement of both Cem and Jake on the matter.
The bus jerked, smacking Steven’s head straight into the cooks jaw.
“Ah, fuck!”, Cem groaned, muffled by the hand in front of his mouth. “Bith my thongue.”
“You bit- you bit your tongue?”
Nodding, a pained expression on his face. Marc snorted.
“Stop laughing.”, Steven scolded. He reached up, carefully cradling the others jaw. The turk pinched his eyes shut, a sour expression on his face.
“Marc, ith you can hear me, you’re a thackass and I won’t thave any curry for you.”
“Wha- I didn’t even- I laughed at Steven!”, said jackass tried to defend himself.
Oh, now it was his fault.
“Marc said he laughed at me, not at you.”
Before the cook could even open his mouth for a rebuttal, an announcement bell rang throughout the bus, catching almost every passengers attention.
“Next stop: Sweetwater Guide Service & Marina.” Pause. “Prochain arrêt: Service de guides eau douce et Marina.”
The monotone women’s voice repeated the announcement twice more before quieting again.
“Come.”, Cem said as he wrestled himself out of the seating and took hold of Steven’s hand. “That’s our stop. And tell Marc this is not over yet.”
Sure enough, the bus stopped a few seconds later, opening it’s doors.
Both stepped off, hand in hand in bag with curry pot inside. Several other people had stepped of the bus with them, all loaded with food, drinks and broad smiles.
Together they made their way towards the dock, an elderly lady even striking up a conversation with them about their homemade cookings.
The dock looked even lovelier in the soft evening light, bustling with people setting tables, cooking or generally just having a wonderful time together. Steven’s grip on his hand tightened, Cem squeezing right back. He knew that big social gatherings and meeting now people wasn’t really the others forté; he also knew that they all had agreed on being in need of help and that surely no one would mind them excusing themselves for a few or leaving a bit earlier.
That was, if they didn’t deem that a danger to the general public and decided to throw hands on the spot.
“Cem! Over here!”, Sam’s voice ripped them from their thoughts, said man grinning and waving at them from a small group of people.
The cook recognized a few of them; he also recognized his partner going stiff. Another squeeze of the hand.
“Don’t worry.”, he whispered as they approached the group. “We’re all here. And we’re not afraid to kick ass.”
That actually coaxed a laugh out of the other, just as they reached the destined table.
“Hey guys!”, Wilson greeted both, a broad smile on his face. His eyes found the bag. “What did y'all bring? Smells delicious!”
_______________________________________
“And you- you got fired for vandalizing a toilet?”, Bucky wheezed, trying his best to not spit potato salad all over the table.
The others at the table were clearly amused aswell, if their expressions and poorly hidden grins were any indication.
Additionally to Sam, Bucky and Sarah there were also the laters sons, AJ and Cass. Joaquin Torrès, “Falcon in training”, had joined their little get-together shortly after the others, bringing mentioned potato salad with him.
To be fair, it was positively divine; Cem just had to ask for the recipe.
Steven blushed, staring into his plate.
“I’m just glad they didn’t press charges.”, he confessed, poking at a piece of lettuce with his fork. “Would’ve been really interesting trying to explain to the police that I was being chased by a jakal and Marc-” He sent a look towards AJ and Cass, as if contemplating what to say next. “I’m… you’ve seen the video.”
Sam and Bucky nodded. Sarah looked a little confused, but a look towards her brother who showed her the knife-across-throat gesture seemed to clear things up.
“Oh, oh okay.”, she nodded, pursing her lip. “And you had no idea you had DID?”
Steven shook his had.
“No, no idea. Cem was visiting Nazan and their parents long term at the time, so he couldn’t have cleared things up either. I really thought I was possessed or something.”
Sarah nodded again. Now she seemed even more intrigued than before.
“How did you find out then?”
“I found a phone and a storage key in my walls. Went all around London and to all the different branches, found- an ancient compass, threatened Marc with getting us locked away, saw a God and passed out.”, he shrugged, ignoring the faces the others made at the mention of a God. His hand found Cem’s under the table, the other squeezing his lightly and rubbing soothing circles into his skin. “Cem found us and we had a… conversation.”
The cook snorted.
“With conversation he means we screamed a lot and were momentarily convinced we’d gone bonkers.”
“Sorry, but can we go back to when you said you saw God?”, Bucky suddenly interrupted, his face scrunched up in disbelief. “Was that a metaphor or…?”
Steven looked up. His eyes went searching for something, scanning all over the place. They finally seemed to settle near one of the smaller boats, almost out on the water.
The others followed his line of sight, but obviously found nothing.
“Can you- can you see it?”, Torrès asked, sounding a tad bit antsy. “Is it here?”
When the gift-shopist nodded, many expressions changed. Excluding Cem. He’d seen too much shit that he rarely could be bothered to react to something miniscule like this.
“He’s looking at the water.”, Steven mentioned absent-mindedly.
The present Avengers exchanged a look.
_______________________________________
While the evening had started out a little bit concerning, it had all in all been amazing.
Cem and Steven were, as they’d found out, very pleasant company. Their thai-curry had been absolutely delicious and the later had spent almost two hours telling the a little too hyperactive kids about ancient Egypt while the cook had given them the baseline of what they were dealing with at the moment.
Turns out, they just needed a specialized psychiatrist. Maybe a few more friends. Sam and the others certainly wouldn’t mind inviting them again.
“Here.”, the hero spoke as he gave them a small piece of paper. “Call that number and say I sent you. Doctor Sherman is the best, I’m sure sure she can help you.”
“What’s the second number for?”, Cem asked as he looked at the paper Steven was holding for him to see. They were both stocked up on leftovers from the cookout, the cook holding at least six styrofoam boxes under his arm.
Sam smiled.
“That’s my number, call when you need anything. Oh and, text when you’re in the states again by any chance.”
At that Steven looked a little surprised, even more so that his other.
“I- yeah, yeah, we’ll do. Wait-”, the later fumbled around in his pocket, producing a pen and a slightly crumbled napkin. He scribbled down something, using a styrofoam box as a writing board. “Here, now you’ve got our number too. Just, call, whenever you need something too, I guess.”
He smiled someone crookedly as he handed Sarah, who was standing next to her brother, the napkin. Bucky and Torrès had said their goodbyes a little earlier, due to cranky kids and some government officials calling for their services.
“Okay. See you guys then, and get home safe!”
Goodbyes, handshakes and even a hug were exchanged until the Wilson’s decided the two were good to be sent on their way.
The walk to the bus stop was spent in comfortable silence, hand in hand and a smile on each of their faces.
Things were starting to look up. For all of them.
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marvel is disney’s forever cash cow! it appeals to children, teens, and sweaty adults! it’s all quite loud and colorful, with the same safe formula every time, but with different directors and tweaks to make it whatever the fuck memorable each time. plus the reliance on violence to push the plot will give them those dank US military checks until explosions go extinct. truly we live in horrific times but i don’t really care
thank u all for letting me know the military quit cutting checks for the MCU after Avengers because they got offended bc the fictional magic men are an alternative to the american military. i’m sorry i was misinformed but more importantly that’s really, really, really, really, really fucking funny
Just to clarify - the Pentagon pulled out of the Avengers (and thus the MCU) because it wasn’t clear whether SHIELD was a branch of the US government, and, if so, where it fell in relation to the military in terms of hierarchy. (Source)
So, it wasn’t just “magic men are unrealistic”, it was “magic men are unrealistic and we don’t know if we outrank them.”
So you’re telling me there’s no concrete financial reason why Falcon and the Winter Solider had to occasionally pause the action to deep throat American military imperialism???? They did that shit for free?????
No, they got money from the Pentagon.
It was only specifically the movie The Avengers that the brass decided to pull support from because they couldn’t figure out the relationship of the military to the (fictional) S.H.I.E.L.D. They have worked with many Marvel productions since then. (And by “worked with” I mean “provided technical support in exchange for prominent mention.)
being a mcu actor has gotta be like a horror film you wake up and go to your little green screen box a man in a trenchcoat hands you the script for the day and every other line is redacted you dont even know what movie youre filming they put a nerf gun to your head that theyll cgi later and are like. say the lines tom.
I love how I’m pretty sure this is only about Tom Holland and I don’t know if that’s funnier or not but also yeah
Didn’t John mulaney say it was like he was kidnapped
I THOUGHT YOH WERE KIDDING ABOUT THE TRENCH COAT
The entire final battle in Avengers: Endgame was digitally composited. I have read that the maximum number of actual actors in any given shot was three.
Brie Larson had to shoot her scenes in Endgame before Captain Marvel started shooting and, well, here’s what she had to say about that:
This year might have been one of my favorite years of Marvel content.
3 of my new favorite MCU projects came out (WandaVision, Black Widow, and Spiderman No Way Home), as well as so many other amazing projects that built on the MCU.
We were introduced to some amazing new characters like Kate Bishop and Yelena, and got content that built upon characters that we have loved for years but hadn’t gotten to see in leading roles yet (Bucky, Sam, Hawkeye, Loki, etc.).
One of the best years for the Marvel Cinematic Universe!
As a lifelong Spiderman fan who loved the comics as a kid, spent so many hours watching the different movies, and just loving the character, No Way Home was something that has left me speechless. I will never forget the experience of watching that in the theater. Incredible.
