#this is what anthony meant when he said the fans know the show better than they do

[shortest-jorts]

hail and well met, fans of this stupid podcast!!! for a while now, i've been diligently keeping a record of the dad and teen facts, and now that i have a tumblr, it's high time i plugged it here! these are lovingly curated, painstakingly maintained, and embarrassingly comprehensive, truly a sign of the most severe stage of clinical brainrot. come get y'all soup. eat up.

edit: a couple people brought up my content warning joke and in hindsight it was honestly a) not funny b) not cool and c) not helpful which is d) not any of the three things i want this project to be so i fixed it. thanks for bringing that to my attention, i didn’t realize how rude it sounded!

[lokiinmediasideblog]

On "Lady Loki" PSA: You mean Loki being Femme?

“Lady Loki” is NOT Loki being genderfluid. The name is a mixture of “Lady Sif” (because Sif’s title is “Lady” like “Lord”) and “Loki” because Loki stole Sif’s body after Ragnarok ensued, and trapped her in a dying old lady’s body. Loki first shows up possessing Sif’s body in Thor Vol. 3 # 5 back in 2007. Loki continued to use male pronouns in Sif’s body, but just gets misgendered by everyone else. And as much as I love aspects of Loki’s characterization in that era, having that plotline in this political climate would be awful, incredibly damaging, and way more problematic than anything the Loki show gets accused of. I need people to know what the fuck they’re talking about before they refer to wanting "Lady Loki" in the Loki show because this is what you're talking about.

I will be open and say I am not a fan of much of the majority of Thor comics. They are fucking annoying and read like some Gary Stu male fantasy because they’re always going off about how Thor is the fucking best and his plot armor makes him the only and best choice to be Asgard’s ruler despite there being other characters with similar qualities in Asgard but Thor’s “just better”. The misogyny is off the charts in these with all the ridiculously and impractically scantily clad “warrior” women that all want to fuck Thor and have little personality past that. I also loathe the “Loki’s just evil” crap. My fascination with them is more like gawking and wanting to be pissed off. Plus, I find pre-reincarnation Marvel comics!Loki to be a fascinating study of a Comics Code Authority/Hayes code era villain (and I kinda root for him because the narrative annoys me). He’s up there with all the Disney villains despite not originally being Disney.

In those pre-reincarnation comics that often piss me off, Loki is meant to evoke disgust and to “disturb” through his failure to be the epitome of manliness. Marvel has tried to distance themselves from that once they had their “Are we the baddies?” epiphany by retconning Asgard to be more progressive. It kinda annoys me because panels exist where they’re being queerphobic to Loki. To me, it’d feel more organic if Asgard was shown going through societal change rather than “We have always been progressive, what the fuck are you talking about?” But that's just me.

I remember when Loki was about to come out as bisexual in the comics on 2013 after becoming very popular largely due to Tom Hiddleston’s Loki (Young Avengers #13 where he flirts with Prodigy, followed by Agent of Asgard revealing he's a genderfluid shapeshifter in 2014), queer organizations expressed concern over the whole “queer-coded villain á la Buffalo Bill from Silence of the Lambs.” If you are not familiar with Buffalo Bill, he is the main antagonist from Thomas Harris’s very copagandic and transphobic book, Silence of The Lambs, the book with Hannibal Lecter (played by Anthony Hopkins who plays MCU!Odin lol) where he’s like “I ate his liver with some fava beans and a nice chianti. T-sss-tsss-tss.”

Buffalo Bill is said to not be a “real transgender”, whatever the fuck that means especially with all the policing around bodily autonomy, and some statistic about how transgenders are the least likely to be violent is shoehorned in, but everything about the character ends up being a queerphobic trope. The “difference” is that Jame Gumb “thinks” he wants to be a woman but doesn’t actually want to be (the transphobia in this book is off the charts).

I am glad Loki has gotten redemption arcs of sorts, because a lot of the tropes employed on comics!Loki just pissed me off. And I am glad MCU!Loki never went through the transphobic possession storyline in the name of being "comics-accurate".

The easiest way to represent genderfluidity in the MCU with a casting choice that predates Loki's coming out in comics would be through dialogue in the magic-less TVA. Have Loki say that her pronouns are she/her while looking the same because people can't shapeshift in real life.

I think if they ever adapt the Agent of Asgard thing (with a new actor), the casted actor should be genderqueer. Tom Hiddleston gets a pass because Loki was not genderqueer yet when he was casted and in 3 movies already (and he was playing the pre-JiM (2011) Loki), but the new one should be.

[anthonysstupiddailyblog]

Anthony’s Stupid Daily Blog (846): Thu 11th Jul 2024

I was dreading this afternoon because as detailed in Tuesday’s entry Dad called with the news that my dear Nana Jenny is to start receiving end of life care so today was essentially my chance to say my final goodbye to her. How do you choose what your final words are going to be to someone who’s been around your entire life? Do you talk about your fondest memories? The impact they’ve had on your life? Sadly Jenny has entered the final stages of dementia so from her point of view it really doesn’t matter what I say but from mine it means everything because I’ll have to sum up 35 years of memories into one final visit. At least I was getting a chance to say goodbye to her, some people don’t even get that. My late friend Kenzie’s family would’ve loved to have had some time to think of something meaningful to say to him but sadly he was taken from them suddenly in his sleep. We arrived at the home at two o’clock and to mark the occasion I honoured the worlds biggest Elvis fan by wearing my my all over print Elvis t-shirt for her. I asked her if she liked it and I think she said “No” which I’m afraid will go down as the final thing she ever said to me but it is quite funny so I guess it’s better that our final exchange was humorous rather than heartbreaking. Jenny kept dosing off for most of the time we were there though she would come to for a few minutes, look intently at me and then go back to sleep. I doubt that she even remembers who I am any more, she might not even comprehend that it’s a human she’s looking at as I might have just appeared to her as a collage of shapes and colours but I suppose there’s still a chance she might have recognised me. I had taken a little puzzle toy Jenny gave me for Christmas when I was a little boy just to tell her that I’d kept it in my room all these years to remind my of my lovely little Nana. I showed it to her and thanked her for it and even though she was in a world of her own it didn’t matter as this was more about revelling in memories rather than creating new ones. We stayed until four as my uncle Thomas was about to come over for his time with Nana. I gathered my things together and got understandably emotional as the dreaded moment arrived. After Dad kissed her and told her he’d be back tomorrow I kneeled down to say my last goodbye to my beautiful, kind, generous, (sometimes unintentionally) hilarious, amazing grandmother. I looked her in the eyes, stroked her cheek then her forehead and said “I’ll see you again some time Jenny. Thanks for everything Nana. Thanks for all the lovely cups of tea and all the Christmas presents. I love you Jenny. You’re a legend and legends live forever” before giving her one last smile and following Dad out the door. Goodbyes are never easy and final goodbyes are impossible but at least I got this moment with her to hopefully see her off in style. I remember about fifteen years ago feeling terrible about the fact that Jenny might never get to achieve her dream of going to Graceland but luckily twelve years ago I decided to step up and took her myself and I know it meant the world to her. I think the fact that I helped Jenny fulfil this goal is why I’ve taken this news better than I did when I learned Grandad was going to die. I never would’ve forgiven myself if she passed away without going to Graceland when I’d had the opportunity to take her there. She made it to eighty three which is incredibly good innings (plus she survived a fucking pandemic) and she never lost any of her abrasiveness and I hope when my time is up I’ve similarly retained my ability to tell someone to fuck off if I don’t like them. I hope that her final few days are as pain free as possible and to quote Forrest Gump: that’s all I have to say about that. 

[socialseasons]

"Now if you actually expected discontinued candy in your bowl at each performance, I'd really find you spoiled... I'm hoping the toilet paper rumor is false, too? The one where you have to have a certain amount of squares per roll -- you apparently count them to make sure -- and that if there's any TP dust, you throw a fit."

Although her gaze remained fixed on the world blurred outside, an amused smile tugged on her lips at that, unsure as whether he was joking with her or not. The forums were a great source of entertainment at times, a great game to play with her sisters as they read out the rumours about each other, but sometimes they left a sour taste in her mouth.

"I dated Keanu Reeves?" came her bemused response, glancing over at Ben in the driver's seat. These people really were clutching at straws to find some sort of scandal. "Who knew? Certainly not me."

Men and women of importance. Francesca did not let the words sting her, knowing that they were not meant with any sort of malice, yet they deflated her a little nonetheless. Her father had been a man of importance -- Edmund Bridgerton, the heartthrob of the '80s, his face stuck to the walls of many young girls back in the day. It was his success that had opened the door for his children to enter the world of music, the three eldest boys creating a band, then the three girls making their own.

"Are you counting Fleetwood Mac in your classic rock category?" She hadn't meant to respond to his quip, but Francesca couldn't help herself from retorting, "Because I can do a pretty good Stevie on karaoke."

"So, uh...why don't you start by telling me about the first letter you found? Where were you when you discovered it? What did the note say?"

Grin melting away, she felt herself heave a sigh at the sudden density of the conversation, the one thing that she hated to think of and yet could not shake away -- A thunderous cloud in constant company.

"I got a letter in my dressing room a few months ago, the last time we were in New York," she started, remembering the messy scrawl as clear as day. "It was right before a show, and it seemed... odd. Not your usual fan mail, but harmless." Pause. "But then I started getting more and more of them, and I guess Anthony thought... well, as you said: 'Better to be safe than sorry'."

"Why on earth would I do that? The yellow ones are the best."

Arching a brow, Ben glanced over at her with a snort. "They are not," he argued, though without any true conviction. "The brown ones are -- the light ones that were discontinued in the '90s." Finally, he allowed a soft chuckle to rumble in his chest. "Now if you actually expected discontinued candy in your bowl at each performance, I'd really find you spoiled... I'm hoping the toilet paper rumor is false, too? The one where you have to have a certain amount of squares per roll -- you apparently count them to make sure -- and that if there's any TP dust, you throw a fit."

A hint of tension left Ben's shoulders and he rolled his eyes, smiling at the absurdity of such an existence. "If you're ever bored, reading through the discussion boards is actually quite entertaining. I'm sure you'll learn all sorts of stuff about yourself. For instance: did you know you dated Keanu Reeves in the '90s? You must be a lot older than you let on."

"So I'm a punishment?"

Ben's smile wiped clean, his lips pursing at the near-admonishment. "Not you, no," he treaded carefully, "but I wouldn't take any offense, Miss Bridgerton. No one in my position would want this gig. I'm usually in charge of protecting men and women of importance, and..." oh. Perhaps that hadn't been the right thing to say either. Wincing, he amended, "It's just far easier to stick to what I'm good at, that's all. And unless you suddenly start singing classic rock, this isn't my forte."

Francesca remained silent for a long time; so long, in fact, that Ben assumed she was opting for the cold shoulder. After a moment, she softly agreed, "All right. Although I do think everybody is blowing this far out of proportion."

"No argument," Ben replied, "but it's better to be safe than sorry. Celebrities have been killed from overly zealous fans in the past, so you shouldn't be so flippant towards this threat." Clearing his throat, he asked, "So, uh...why don't you start by telling me about the first letter you found? Where were you when you discovered it? What did the note say?"

[cheeseanonioncrisps]

I feel like I've written about this before, maybe in a tag or something, but I'm honestly really into the idea that, despite being despised by the higher ups (or lower downs), Crowley and Aziraphale are actually considered really cool by the younger rank and file members of their respective sides.

'Cause Crowley's immediate superiors might privately dislike him, but that's because he's doing something that they don't understand. And he's doing it really well. In public, the Serpent of Eden is Hell's golden boy. Every up and coming young demon who wants to someday make it big has got an Anthony J Crowley poster up in their cubicle.

There's competition to work with him on temptations. There are stories— "they say he's started two world wars!" "They say he's the one who came up with Original Sin!" "They say he invented telemarketing!"— that get passed up and down the corridors of Hell. There's a black market among the younger demons for knock-off sunglasses and cheap red hair dye. (The latter has a tendency to dye your hair almost entirely the wrong colour— ranging from bright orange to hot pink— and will make you smell like peroxide for three weeks, but who cares? You all stink anyway, and you'll be the coolest demon in your department!)

If you're a hardworking young demon who's only too eager to serve your Master and bring about The End of the World, then your dearest wish is to be Anthony J Crowley.

And Crowley? Hates this. Absolutely hates it.

Like a key reason why this has all been allowed to go on for so long is because the likes of Beelzebub and co. just find it too damn amusing to watch the great Serpent of Eden go slithering round the long way through the back alleyways of Hell in the hopes of avoiding his adoring fans (who have been tipped off by Hastur, and are already waiting for him at the other end).

Crowley wants to be cool, yes, desperately so. But Crowley wants to be James Bond, and now instead he's stuck being Hell's weirdo version of Captain America.

He has to give speeches! He gets held up as a role model! Somewhere in Hell there are even a bunch of Health and Safety videos starring the Demon Crowley, from that time he lost a bet with Beelzebub back in the '70s. Featuring such exciting titles as: '99 Reasons Why You Shouldn't Lick The Walls' (the first 98 are just increasingly detailed descriptions of what Beelzebub will do to the next person ze catches doing it).

It's humiliating.

Aziraphale, on the other hand… well, young angels really aren't meant to look up to Aziraphale. In fact, letting your squadron leader know that you're an Aziraphale fan is a good way to land yourself a stern talking to and a reccomendation that you find yourself some better role models (have you considered Gabriel, by any chance?).

Aziraphale made a terrible error in letting the Serpent in, and although Heaven in its great mercy saw fit to forgive him, in penance he must walk the Earth until the End Times, protecting the humans from the consequences of his own, silly mistake. You tolerate Aziraphale, you might pity him even, but you do not admire him.

Except… as far as anyone in Heaven is concerned, Aziraphale spends most of his time on Earth fending off vicious demons at flaming sword point. And I don't care what species you are, there's something inherently badass about that.

So there's a always sizeable population of young angels who hang out in some of the less blindingly lit corners of Heaven to trade stories about the Guardian of the Eastern Gate. "They say he consumes gross matter! Doesn't even care about defiling his corporation— he's just that hardcore." "They say he can do magic— without miracles!" "They say he's the only angel the Serpent of Eden was ever afraid of!"

'Cool'— and Crowley would really like to debate this usage of the word— angels carry pictures of Aziraphale around with them, usually torn from that one issue of the Celestial Observer that covered Gabriel's attempt to promote him ("They say he turned it down! Said it was his duty to stay and protect the humans!"), and owning one of these is a great way to gain some celestial street cred. Phrases like "my dear" or "tickety boo" are the Heavenly equivalent of slang— and referring to anything as "nifty" in front of your superiors will get you a proper dressing down and several hours on polishing duty in the armoury. Every young angel's rebellious phase involves tartan.

Yeah, to us Aziraphale comes across as just a stuffy old professory-type bloke, but from an angelic perspective he's like a cross between Van Helsing and Bear Grylls (I stand by my headcanon that living on Earth, eating and drinking physical matter, is to angels what living in the jungle for six weeks, eating grubs and drinking your own urine filtered through a sock, is to humans). You don't mess with the Guardian of the Eastern Gate.

Aziraphale, of course, knows nothing about this.

He's not generally allowed much interaction with host outside of the archangels, and the few admirers of his that he's managed to come face to face with were generally too starstruck to say anything. As far as he's concerned, everybody in Heaven sees him the same way Gabriel does.

As a result, he is even more surprised than Crowley is when a ragtag bunch of minor angels and demons show up at the bookshop a few months after the Apocawon't, asking to join the revolution.

[afro-elf]

Did you see Anthony Mackie's statement on the exploitation of pure and beautiful homosexuality?

i agree and have always agreed that anthony is the absolute king of bad old man phrasing and talking too much but the rage feels odd to me because like evans and stan have responded in similar ways to the question of shipping (with evans being lukewarm and stan responses being on a spectrum because press that caters to fandom is aware that a lot of bucky fans Only care about who he's fucking for some reason) and people got upset for like two hours and then went back to talking about how badly they wanna lick their abs, anyways i have a bit of a ramble and it's kinda unrelated but this situation just dug up my feelings about it SO

i obviously can't and won't be the one to decide if mackie's comments were homophobic, but i can tell you what i've observed in the tfatws fandom alone. a lot of y'all (and you know who y'all are) were only here for bucky. you made this abundantly clear from the moment the trailer premiered to the closing shot of the show itself. now, as i said before, a huge loud chunk of bucky's online fanbase is very concerned with who he's sleeping with to the point where most conversations about bucky outside of like... interviews where sebastian stan is actually asked what's going on with him, tend to favor questions about bucky's sexuality. now, as i've said in the past, it sucks that marvel and disney are deeply homophobic companies so the fans are left to make prominent characters overtly gay in fanon and fanon alone, but the obsession with the shipping potential of bucky really took a strange and annoying and frankly racist and misogynoiristic tone during the show's run and it also felt less about bucky being a canon gay character and more about bucky being a widely shippable feature

first, it was the former st*ckies' refusal to not let the show be about sam. they inserted steve into every scene, every piece of dialogue they could manage. they made the show's web reception all about bucky and bucky's "post-steve life" and bucky trying to date and bucky's tears and "ooh bucky and zemo and ooh NO not bucky and leah and ooh bucky and john and NOT BUCKY AND SARAH eh i guess bucky and sam sure i guess sure i guess whatever i guess bucky and sam since there are no other options i guess bucky and sam". and, as much as i H A T E D the politics of the show, holy shit, why did it feel like every major conversation about the show revolved around shipping when it was so busy trying (failing, cannot emphasize this enough) to talk about race and class sorta but not really?

when black fans expressed discomfort with the fandom and the show's treatment of sam, they were drowned out. when black fans wanted to talk about bucky's microagressions, they were drowned out by fanon ideas of bucky's woke levels. when black fans were interested in bucky and sarah being an item the idea was deemed idiotic and the show was accused of baiting an audience it never meant to court (remember who disney/marvel is) but had to try not to displease for the sake of audience retention. scenes meant to show us something new about bucky as a character were made into ship fodder, like the scene where they're undercover and zemo basically implies (in my interpretation) that, as the winter soldier, bucky didn't just murder people but was also used as a sexual object, which was fascinating but so beyond unsexy and uncomfortable that the idea that there were fics written because of that scene still kinda makes me nauseous

but since the focus was so on bucky and seb it seemed like the (mangled) themes and center of the show were forgotten until after it was over and we were all like so that was bad, right? mackie was asked a LOT about seb during press for the show as a result of the fandom hyper-fixation and i feel like that never would've happened if shipping were not a primary function of mcu fandom to the point where no one actually cares about the plots of the movies as long as they get a chance see two men kiss or a hint that they could kiss. the truth of the matter is that if the mcu was better written we could maybe have a discussion about the richly depicted personal and sexual lives of the characters but instead we're left with the cinematic equivalents of action figures and people getting very mad that kevin feige's play style with those action figures is fundamentally whack and homophobic so like i say all of this to say the displeasure mackie feels with all relationship related and really all discourse in specifically the mcu fandom being reduced to two men kissing (and this being exploitative of gay relationships and identities- even if he worded it worse than me) isn't unfounded even though i am not mackie cannot speak for him and do not know him personally so i can't call him and be like "hey what did you mean by this?" y'know? i guess i'm saying that i think fandom rage in this case would be more understandable to me if the canonical basis for a romance between the two men they wish had kissed was truly as fleshed out as it is in fanon

anyway i hope i carefully explained myself well and also comics!sambucky owns, comics!sambucky fat juicy pussy supremacy throwing ass and making cash

[faithinlouisfuture]

Hello Emmy!!! Quick! Favorite moment or moments from the EU/UK leg?!

Pics and gifs are very much appreciated! 😌

Criss!!! You know me better than to say quick, you know how I love my rambles and my insanely longwinded posts, there’s no such thing as quick around here 🤓

So without further ado, here we go! In this essay I will … ✍🏽 Seriously though, top five here we go!

- The fact that Louis fully embraced the devil in his brain that brings out the demon in him and started to jump to barricade every single night during KMM. This is both a favorite moment and prime content for my tag set #light of my life #bane of my existence (and before someone @s me, I’ve been referring to Louis that way LONG before Anthony ever said it to Kate, if anything he stole it from me!). I mean, look at this!

gifs courtesy @silverfoxlou

The jumping and getting back up there in itself is enough, but then there’s the mad moments of insane jealousy that come from other people getting to touch him - the collective breakdown all of solo louie tumblr had over this! 🫠

- The entire Amsterdam concert! Where do I even begin?!? He walked out on stage in MESH! Looking like this 🥵

The crowd was electric! There were real actual balloons for KMM and condom balloons for I don’t even know what song 😂 The crowd got to scream “I went to Amsterdam without and all I could do was think about you!” at him! How special is that?!? The projects from that show were great too, and the bands energy was also amazing and Louis seemed to be having a total blast!

- The entire Milan show! The fact that it was the largest audience he was playing to yet, the way that he walked out in that England jersey asking to be mocked, but stuck to his guns, mad man! The crowd was the best yet in my opinion (for the entirety of LTWT22) they were loud, they told him he was beautiful every chance they got 🥲 he had a such a great time and enjoyed the fan projects! The overall energy of the entire show was just great! My little Pepsi bottle had a blast 🤍

- The brain melting, heart stopping, tear inducing, moment™ he decided to spring Change/s.mp3 on us the first time in Łódź !!! The dash went mad, the group chat went mad, the crowd went mad, all of louie twitter went mad and he just sang it like an angel and moved on without even acknowledging it. It was the definition of the louie experience; never knowing what to expect (at least for me). I couldn’t concentrate on anything at all after that. My soul re-entered my body around KMM time I think, before that I was just 🧍🏽‍♀️🧍🏽‍♀️🧍🏽‍♀️

- The entire Doncaster show! He was on another level, you could literally see him radiating light and happiness through the screen, I don’t even know how people who saw him in real life survived with their eyesight & sanity intact! If he was a Pokémon he would have levelled up the minute he stepped out on that stage 🤍 So many of the songs/lyrics meant SO MUCH more just because of the fact that he was singing them in his home town, where his journey began. It was everything that I wanted the Donny show to be for him, without any extra theatrics or anything at all. The crew joining him on stage 🥲 just all of it! It was a beautiful beautiful way to end the European leg! (The fact that he had the audacity to play Hey there Delilah at the end 😭 - literally ended me).

Special mentions;

- Every time a new IGTV would drop and all of us freaked out over it together, watching multiple times, gif making immediately, meme making immediately. The energy would always be great on IGTV release days! Especially the one that had the Berlin behind the scenes 100% game content in it.

- Reykjavik shirtless hot springs content 😭😂 absolutely nobody had seeing half naked wet Louis surrounded by half naked wet men in their LTWT22 bingo card, NO ONE. Yet here we are. The reason this is not in my top five moments is that I missed it 😭 like I wasn’t able to be on here or on twitter when it happened, and I had to do post freak out posts which are never as much fun, lol.

[teebarnes]

✨ | I'm Fallin' For You, Darling.

Click [100 Followers Fic] for the rest of the 100 follower fics :)

Pairing: Chris Evans x female!reader

Summary: Both you and Chris have quite the relationship, it all started the day you gave him a marker.

Word Count: 3.5k

Warning(s): Fluffffff, Angst for sure, talk of anxiety (not a lot but also a lot).

A/N: Thank you guys so much for 100 followers! It means the world, I hope you like this one as much as I do. (Sorry that's a lotta words).

⤑ Click here for my taglist so you can be notified when my new fics are posted.

Any Likes, Comments & Reblogs are super duper appreciated :))

When Chris Evans is nervous, there is only one thing that calms him down. And that one thing is you and the fact that you allow him to doodle on your hands all the time.

The premiere of Captain America: The Winter Soldier was the first time you saw Chris so nervous. Him constantly rubbing his hands together or bouncing his leg underneath the press table and the times when he'd fiddle with the hem of his shirts. These were things you noticed Chris did when he got nervous, and it seemed that you were the only one who witnessed them.

The third day into the film's press tour, you decided to take matters into your own hands. You knew what it felt like to be anxious, the feeling settling within the depths of your stomach or the constant avoidance of looking out to an audience. Sometimes you'd excuse yourself a few times throughout interviews just to catch your own breath.

~

The whole TCA: TWS cast sat along the stage of the comic-con panel. The hosts introduced you all, crowds cheering loudly when they saw everyone.

You took your seat next to Chris, who was already fiddling with his plastic water bottle that he'd been gripping so tightly on, you could already see the indents on the bottle. You smiled, looking out to the audience waving back to some of your fans that you could see holding signs up for you in the crowd. It was, in fact, times like these that your anxiety shot right out the window, replacing that anxiety with happiness and admiration of your fan base.

Five minutes into the panel talk and questions were directed to Scarlett and RDJ. You knew you wouldn't be talking anytime soon as, of course, like all other press tours, the interviews were heavily coordinated. So before you'd have the chance to speak, Sebastian, Anthony, and the Russo brother would go first. Sitting back in your chair, you took a sip of your water, your eyes following down to where Chris was bouncing his leg. Then, setting your water back onto the table, you pulled yourself and your chair closer to the table, reaching over across Joe Russo, who observed what you were doing.

"Could you pass me the marker, please, Joe?" you whispered to him; he smiled, nodding handing you the marker. "Thanks", you whispered again.

You returned to the comfort of your seat, Scarlett and RDJ still bantering. You look forward to the audience and give a tiny little smile to the fans who were waving at you. Your eyes looked down to your arm; you wrote a little message on your forearm, so he knew what the pen was for.

You scooted a bit closer to Chris just enough so you could hand him the pen. You lightly looked over to him; your hand went underneath the table and across to rest on Chris' lap. It was right there when his leg stopped bouncing. You held the pen in your hand, waiting for him to take it from you. Chris looked up turning his gaze to you; you gave him a smile nodding.

His eyes directed back down to where your arm was. He read the note you had written for him, 'Use my arm to doodle. It helps with anxiety :)'. He let out a smile, all the while letting out the breath he'd been holding in.

You looked back up and over to Sebastian, who was now talking; you felt the pen slip out from your grip, the marker clicked and the coldish ink embracing the surface of your skin.

One of Chris' hand rested firmly on your forearm to keep it from moving, and the other used to doodle. That was the first time in the history of you knowing Chris to be calm and content. No bouncing his leg or fidgeting. He was completely aware of everything instead of his growing anxiety.

~

It was after that moment Chris slowly began to fall in love. He never expected someone to notice his worries and do something about them. But, the way you sat there while he doodled on your arm didn't phase you at all, you wanted to support him, and you showed him that you did.

Years later, It became a force of habit, the tiny hugs you'd give Chris just to slide a marker into his pocket before going on stage. The small slight movements he'd make before he took your hand into his so he could draw.

You'd become someone who knew him better than he knew himself. The many dates he took you on lead to you moving in with him. The small moments you both had messing around on set and loving him in the silliest of moments meant eternity to the pair of you. You knew that you had fallen in love with Chris Evans, and so was he. You both just didn't realise that the moment would be a forever moment. If you hadn't offered him a marker that day, where would you be?

It was now the premiere of Avengers: End Game and the last press tour you'd have for a while. Today's interview consisted of a comic-con panel, the same panel you happily let Chris doodle on your arm five years ago.

You both sat together, his hand protectively on your thigh. You were speaking into the mic as a fan had just asked you a question about possibly seeing your character in the future of the MCU. Chris sat there attentive to your voice while he drew on the top of your hand. It was a little duck with a Boston Red Sox hat holding a heart.

Once you had finished answering the question and someone else began to speak, you looked back down to see what Chris was drawing. You squinted in wonder; looking back at Chris, you wondered why he was drawing this. Coincidentally, you had drawn a duck on him one day in between an interview—a duck holding a heart wearing a NASA cap. Chris looked at you with his cheesy smile. Oh! he was up to something, you thought. Chuckling, you watched him colour in the small heart with a red marker. He was, in truth, quite a good artist; you managed to take a photo of all his doodles over the years. But this one, this doodle was a bit different; it meant something more to you.

After you had both finished the panel, you were set on getting a new tattoo. Kissing Chris' lips, you told him that you'd see him at home. Chris had asked you where you were going, so you said you were going out to dinner with your mum in town, which was true you just left out the part of you going to get another tattoo. Your parents were in for the weekend for reasons unknown and wanted to see you before they left, so you had already planned to see them. He nodded, kissing you once more before departing ways.

You both were always so sentimental, and you knew as soon as you saw that duck in a red sox cap holding a heart on your hand that you wanted it to be a forever doodle. That day, when you had drawn a duck on him, he went and got it tatted on his hand the same day. The first tattoo visible on Chris' body, the only tattoo that wasn't hidden under his shirts. In contrast, most of your tattoos were on your arms and wrists; this was another tattoo among the few others you had on your hand, others being the original six symbol and some writing of your favourite quotes.

Before you knew it, you were sitting on the chair in your private tattoo artist's studio, getting the duck tattooed on you forever. The tattoo was a reminder of memories both you and him had experienced together.

~

The red sox hat, being where he took you on your first date five years ago. To a Red Sox game, of course. You didn't have anything to wear to represent the team, so Chris kindly offered you his Red Sox cap to wear; five years later, Chris had to purchase a new hat because you kept his one. Of course, he didn't mind; he loved to see you dressed in things that were his; the hat was one of them.

"I don't have anything to wear", you sadly pouted at Chris, looking at him in his Red Sox jersey and cap.

He looked down to you as you stood next to him, holding his hand softly, looking out to the stadium. He smiled, taking his cap off and placing it over your head.

"Now you do", he smiled, leading you down the stairs to your seats. You weren't really a fan of baseball. Still, once you had experienced your first game, oh man... it became a routine for both you and Chris to attend every game the Red Sox were playing at.

~

The duck, the furry little animal you had brought home a few months after you had first moved in with Chris two years ago. In all honesty, you wanted to get a turtle, but as soon as you saw that slight yellow fluff waddling around at the pet store, you wanted nothing more than to take it home with you. Chris couldn't say no to you, so the duck became your baby.

"y/n?" Chris came around the corner where you'd sat yourself talking to the little duck... Chris had been looking for you for almost fifteen minutes when he found you sitting there with the pet shop worker.

The excitement in your eyes told him that you had forgotten all about the turtle. You looked up at him smiling, patting the empty seat next to him. He sat watching you pet the small baby duck with your thumb lightly. "I'm naming him Alfie" you smiled brightly, looking back at Chris.

He took the duck out of your hands and chuckled, "Alfie, it is".

~

The red heart...

A reminder of how much you both loved each other. Something that had never gone away, the love both you and Chris had continued, it grew stronger over time, of course with a few hiccups here and there but never enough to break that love. But this, the tiny little heart being tattooed onto you, was one similar to the heart that homed your middle finger on a ring. The rose gold ring he gifted you when he asked you to be his girlfriend four years ago.

You rested your head on Chris' shoulder as both of you watched the office. A new series you'd been watching together, it was a few months after your first date with Chris, and you both were head over heels with each other.

"Hey y/n", he whispered.

"Mh?"

"I'm fallin' for you darling."

You lifted your head from his shoulder, looking up at him, "You're what", you whispered softly, you heard what he said, but you just needed to hear it again.

He brought the small box out, opening it to reveal a rose gold band hearts making up the band. "I said I'm falling in love with you", he smiled before continuing ", Be my girlfriend?" he sweetly asked.

You chuckled, letting him slide the ring onto your middle finger. "Of course", you whispered back to him before cupping his face. You both looked at each other, you saw it, you saw the life you'd been wanting. It was with him.

"I love you".

~

Sitting at the dinner table with your parents, you briefly looked down at the now wrapped tattoo on your hand. You had thanked your tattoo artist for another fantastic job; the new ink was precisely how Chris drew it on you earlier today. Your parents were eating away and so were you.

"It's great to see you again, Hunny", your dad spoke.

You smiled, nodding. "I've missed you guys so much."

"What's on your agenda for this weekend?" you spoke again, taking a bite of your food. Your mum and dad took one look at each other before your mum stopped to talk.

"Your dad and I are going to old friends party", she smiled at you. "party", you chuckled. "Since when do you guys party".

"it's an engagement party, I mean... do you have some parties we could go to" your dad joked.

"First of all... no." you laughed, cringing at the image in your head of your parents dancing and drinking. "But that's nice. I hope you both have fun, wish whoever a congratulations for me" you smiled.

"Oh, we will", your mum outwardly said. You took a second to squint your eyes in curiosity to your mum's tone. "Mhkay".

~

It was the end of dinner, and you had parted ways with your parents, taking a Cab to the home you shared with Chris. "thank you, driver," you smiled, hopping out of the cab walking up to your driveway. You giggled, seeing Dodger patiently waiting for you at the front door. "Hey buddy", you smiled, opening up the door for him to jump all over you.

Closing the door behind you, kneeling down to cuddle your pup. Dodger wagged his tail giving you kisses. "Shhhhh", you chuckled lightly, "were you waiting for me, huh?" you watched Dodger roll around on the floor. You stood up, taking your shoes off, leaving your keys on the hook. "C'mon, baby", you whispered, gesturing for Dodger to follow. You both walked down the hall, Dodger by your side.

You could hear the snores coming from your room and knew Chris was already sleeping. You opened the door, looking down at Dodger "go keep my spot warm for me, please", you sweetly asked your pup, who did just that. You watched him gently jump up onto the bed and curl up on your side of the bed.

Walking further down the hall, you went to take a shower. Changing into the PJs you left on the warming rack in the bathroom, you followed back out to check on Alfie, who would be sleeping in your office. Once that was done, you head into your and Chris' room. You took off your slippers and ushered Dodger to sleep in his bed. You kissed his head before he left. "night, bubba".

You slide in next to Chris, who had his back to you. Covering yourself with the blanket, you slide one arm around his bare torso pulling yourself closer to him. He was so warm, and you loved it. Chris groaned, turning over. He smiled sleepily. "Hey hon, how was dinner?" "It was good", you kissed his lips, "That's good," he said, pulling you into his arms to cuddle.

"Hey babe"

"mhhh", he mumbled in a sleepy voice.

"I love you."

"I love you too".

~

The next day you were doing a panel with the marvel cast. Like any other day, you answered questions, so why did you feel this one would be different. You were a bit nervous today, like you had woken up wrong, or you were waiting for something to happen. You didn't know if that was a good or bad thing.

You were talking to your audience. It was a large panel today consisting of the MCU cast, if not all of them. Maybe that's why you were so nervous; the bigger the cast panel, the bigger audience to speak to. "Make eye contact and hand gestures y/n," you thought to yourself right before you begun to answer the fan's questions. You start to use your hands gesturing when a fan had asked you about your character's personality.

Chris smiled, watching you intently; fans noticed. But as you were gesturing, he noticed the tattoo. He had to double-take when he saw your hand, leaving a small on his face. After you finished your question, he leaned in. "I love your tattoo, babe", he whispered; his comment calmed your nerves a bit as you chuckled ", just following your lead."

You both lean back into your seats as Joe and Anthony Russo began the next half of the panel. You were already forty minutes through... only another forty to go.

Anthony spoke, "As you may know, this will be the last you'll see of your favourite actors and actresses for a while..." Joe turned to the entire panel. "So we put together a little something of your time over the last decade" Joe turns back to the audience. "So sit back and relax."

The panel turned their chairs to watch the big screen, the lights dimmed, and the video rolled. It was a decade gag-reel of everyone in the MCU; Chris had pulled your chair closer to his; he knew you were nervous, for what reason? He didn't know, and neither did you. He should've been the nervous one; he was about to do something in front of the entire audience he had been planning for months.

Your head rested on Chris' shoulder, laughing with everyone else as the embarrassing footage rolled through. There was more footage of you and Chris than anyone else, but again, you were too clouded in worry. You didn't overthink about it.

Then there it was, a clip you didn't know existed—a video of you dancing with Scarlett and Jeremy on the infinity war set. You were being videoed from afar, but Chris comes into the frame making funny faces before pointing at you. You blushed a bit, laughing lightly.

"You see her", Past Chris spoke to the camera. "One day, I am going to marry her" he wiggles his finger over to your past self, who was still dancing around like an idiot. You swear your heart stopped, so ultimately, you started bouncing your leg. The video stopped, and the lights came back on. There were hushed voices; you knew they were looking your way, but you couldn't tell why.

You turned your chair, trying to avoid whoever was looking at you. Not noticing anything, nobody was talking. You had turned your head to look down to the end of the panel where The Russo brothers were. They were all looking in your direction, including the whole cast panel. You jumped slightly when Chris caught your leg mid-bounce; you turned to look at him, his eyes dazzling before you. Oh, that smile, you knew that smile all too well. Chris was smiling like a little kid.

Chris tapped you on your thigh, which caught your attention, so you looked down. This is it; this is the same feeling you felt when he first asked you to be his girlfriend. You burst into tears after reading the message on his arm; Chris' forearm rested in your lap while holding a black marker in his hand. You sniffed, looking softly at him. He was now in tears too. Taking the black marker from his grip, you clicked it; resting your hand on his forearm to steady yourself, you answered his question.

'Will you marry me, y/n?' the question written in his bold writing stared right back at you.

You always had your answer 'of course.'

You closed the lid on the pen, and Chris opened his hand; your engagement ring sat in the nook of his palm. He slides it onto your ring finger right next to your rose-gold one. You smile blinking through the tears, you turn to him, and Chris had already stood with his arms in the air.

"SHE SAID YES"

The whole audience got up cheering; he leaned in, cupping your cheeks, both of you laughing through your kisses. He had lifted you into his arms, spinning you around. He set you back down; you wiped the tears from your face laughing while wearing your t-shirt. At that point, you knew everyone was in on your proposal; you turned to your cast members, who were all clapping.

"Give a round of applause for the future Mr and Mrs Evans!" Joe spoke.

You went around hugging everyone who had gotten up just to congratulate the pair of you. One by one, your friends embraced you in their arms.

"Congratulations", two-voice spoke from behind you, "oh my god, you idiots", you chuckled, pulling your parents into a big hug. Chris stood next to you as your dad pulled him into a hug. "Your fiancé sends her congratulations", he laughed, referencing the conversation you had with them last night.

Chris looked down at you, "They had texted me last night what you had said. I'm surprised you didn't catch on", he laughed. "I- I didn't know... I was curious after mum said it so suspiciously but didn't think," you mentally face-palmed yourself.

And like that, the panel was concluded. Everyone congratulating you and Chris before leaving. Chris had set up a little engagement party back at your house; everyone was enjoying their time having fun. You sat on Chris' lap still in shock, his arms wrapped around your waist "you didn't see that coming, did you?" he smirked, looking up at you.

"No... no, I didn't" you laughed sweetly. Your hand ran over Chris' forearm where it still had both his and your writing on it. "That was the best proposal ever" you looked at him, smiling, "I'm glad, darling" you both leaned into each other, lips connecting softly.

"I've fallen deeply in love with you, Mr Evans".

"I'm still falling for you".

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chris Evans Taglist: @buckyswintersoldiermask @lharrietg @buckyfan12 @afraid-to-be-me @fairityretro

[favefandomimagines]

Why? (t.h.)

Summary: you and tom broke up at the young age of 21, after the success of Captain America: Civil War. now 3 years later, you run into him again with your three year old son

AN: more angst than fluff that’s for sure and here’s a twist: Evans!Reader (i’m also really bad a writing how toddlers sound so use your imagination)

When you imagined having a baby, you thought of the basic evolution of adulthood. Meet, marriage, then kids. Not meet, date for a year and a half, then baby. A baby who you were currently raising on your own. 

The breakup between you and Tom was the opposite of mutual. You didn’t want it. You wanted to be with him even before you got pregnant. But he wanted other things. 

He wanted other people. And that’s the part that broke your heart. 

“I don’t understand. You have never mentioned this before.” You said to him. “Y/N, it’s not you, okay? It’s just, we’re young. We’re 21 years old, our careers are just taking off. Don’t you want to be free?” Tom explained. 

“Free? You think I’m tying you down?” You questioned. “That’s not what I said.” Tom rebutted. “That’s exactly what you said! You think being in a relationship with me is tying you down. Well, fine Tom. If this is what you want, this is what you’ll get.” You snapped. 

You began to pack up everything you could fit in your small, weekender bag. “I’m going home and I never want to speak to you again.” You sneered. “No, Y/N, don’t do this. We can still be friends.” He told you. “No we can’t. Because I can’t be the friend who’s hopelessly in love with a guy who doesn’t love her back.” You said. 

“I do love you-” He started before you cut him off. “Don’t lie to make yourself feel better.” You sneered. You walked to the door of the hotel you were staying in and slammed it shut. 

You were a mess after the breakup. Physically ill is how you described it to people. You never left your room most days and when you did, you glued yourself to the couch. You lived off of Ben and Jerry’s and The Notebook.

Your friends tried to get you out of your apartment. But you didn’t feel like going out and facing the paparazzi. Especially when every time you stood up, you felt sick to your stomach. 

Even your older brother stayed with you most days. He didn’t want you to be alone. 

That’s when your friend suggested something. “When did you get your period?” She asked you. When she asked, you couldn’t remember when. You chalked it being late up to the stress you were feeling because of Tom and being cast in a new TV show. 

But, your friend bought you the test anyways. And it was positive. Your world was crumbling around you and now you had to fend for a baby. Tom told you he wasn’t going to leave you so you didn’t use a condom. And you couldn’t be on birth control because of underlying health issues you had. 

You were pregnant and you were going to have to raise a child by yourself. But your family was there through it all. Chris came to every doctor’s appointment with you, already earning the title of ‘world’s best uncle.’ 

You were about four months along when Kevin Feige called you about shooting an end credit scene for Spider-Man: Homecoming. How were you going to hide a baby bump from the cast and crew? But the only person you needed to keep it from was Tom. He didn’t want you so why should he be apart of the baby’s life? You would ask yourself that simply out of anger. There was no logical reasoning behind it. 

You shot the scene while pregnant and quickly left Atlanta before anyone began asking any questions. The main one being: who’s the dad? 

The night you gave birth, your entire family was at your side. Throughout the entire 20 hour labor before you welcomed a baby boy into the world. Theodore Evans-Holland was the newest member of the family. But Holland was only on the birth certificate. 

__

Three years had passed since you gave birth to Theo and when they said being a working mother was hard, they weren’t lying. Word spread that you got pregnant but the identity of the father unknown by the public. Including Tom. When asked about Theo in interviews you say it was a one night stand with a friend and that you weren’t together romantically. No one questioned a thing. 

On the set of Infinity War and Endgame, your mom brought Theo to visit often. He got to see his mom and his uncle Chris be superheroes.

“And cut! Let’s take a quick break! Y/N needs to go be a mom.” Anthony Russo joked. You smiled brightly at the three year old who was sitting on your makeup artist’s lap. 

You picked him and placed sloppy kisses all over his face, making the little boy laugh. “Are you having fun?” You asked him. “Yes!” He replied loudly. “Uncle Chwis!” Theo yelled, pointing to his uncle across the set. You couldn’t say no to him so you brought him to his uncle who was talking to Chris and Robert. 

Tom watched as you brought your child over to the three men. He didn’t know you moved on so quick. But he didn’t have a right to be mad. He broke up with you, not the other way around. Though a part of him couldn’t help but wish it was his son. 

You and Theo had decided to have a fun day since it was relatively nice in LA. You took him to the zoo and the aquarium before stopping at the Starbucks close to your house as a nice treat. 

Theo was a big fan of their frappucinos. 

You were holding him as he was beginning to get a little bit fussy after such a long day. 

“Y/N?” You heard from behind you. You turned around and saw Tom in the line behind you waiting for his name to be called. “Oh, uh, hi Tom.” You greeted him. “How are you?” He asked. “I’m fine. Just waiting on our order.” You answered. 

“Mommy, that’s spider-man.” Theo whispered to you. “Yes, baby, that is spider-man.” You spoke to him. “Hey little man.” Tom greeted the young boy. “You two have the cutest son. He looks just like his dad.” An older lady commented on the two of you. 

“No, he’s uh, not mine.” Tom quickly corrected her. The lady looked from you back to Tom before giving a pretty fake smile. “We, uh, we have to go. Theo needs a nap.” You said quickly, grabbing your drinks and making your way towards the exit. 

“Y/N, wait!” Tom called. You stopped a turned around to look at him. You and Tom looked at one another for a few moments before he looked at Theo. You could see he was doing the math in his head and analyzing Theo’s facial features. 

It was true though. He did look just like his dad. Same hair, same eyes, he had your nose though. 

“See you around, Tom.” You said breaking the silence before walking back towards your car. 

__

Later that evening, you were sitting on the couch with Theo watching Captain America. It was his favorite movie at the moment because he got to watch uncle Chris be a superhero. 

You were alerted by the sound of the doorbell and wondered who would be at your door at such an odd hour. “Stay here, buddy.” You told your son as you got up to answer the door. 

And when you did, you were very tempted to close it right in his face. Because Tom was standing on your doorstep looking completely distraught. 

“What are you doing here?” You asked. “He’s mine, isn’t he? Theo’s my son.” He said. You were quiet for a moment before you stepped out on to the porch so Theo wouldn’t hear. 

“Yes. Theo is your’s.” You answered quietly. “Why? Why didn’t you tell me?” Tom asked, the anger in his voice very evident. “Because, Tom, you didn’t want me anymore! A kid wasn’t going to change that! It would tie you down even more than I did.” You replied. “I had a right to know. I’m his father.” He said. 

You ran a hand through her hair as you squeezed your eyes shut trying to make the tears go away. 

“You didn’t want me, Tom. You didn’t want to be with me and a kid wasn’t going to magically fix that. Who’s to say you were going to want to be apart of his life if I told you? Like you said that night, we were 21, our careers taking off. I gave you the freedom you asked for.” You spoke. 

“I messed up, okay? I knew that the second I woke up the next morning and you weren’t there next to me. It was stupid of me to even think that. We could’ve been regular 21 year-olds together.” Tom said. “But at the time, you meant it.” You said. 

The silence that fell upon the two of you was awkward and uncomfortable. The only sound coming from the TV inside seeping through the cracked front door. 

“I need to know him. I know I hurt you and it was the biggest mistake I’ve ever made. But I need to know my son, Y/N.” Tom begged. 

You looked at the man in front of you and didn’t see who you were in a relationship with three years ago. Maybe because he’s had to grow up faster than the usual person. Or maybe because you had to grow up faster and raise a child. 

“You can meet him. But we need to take this very slow. Theo is my entire world and I will not have him end up heartbroken like I was.” You finally spoke. 

Tom’s eyes lit up at your words and he rapidly nodded his head. You slowly let him into the house, Theo entirely unaware that anything was happening. 

“Hey, bud. There’s someone I want you to meet.” You said to the small boy. You sat down next to him, him taking the liberty of crawling onto your lap. 

He stared at Tom warily, wondering why a stranger was in his house. He knew. that he was spider-man but to him spider-man was a stranger. 

“Theo, you know how I told you that daddy was an astronaut exploring space?” You questioned. Theo nodded his head looking up at you. “Well, he’s back from space now. Theo, I want you to meet your dad.” You told him. 

The brunette boy looked from you up to Tom. “My daddy’s spider-man?” Theo questioned. “Yes, your daddy is spider-man.” You confirmed. “That’s why he was in outer space! Helping Iron Man!” Theo shouted. “That’s right bud. I was gone for a while, but I’m here now.” Tom finally spoke. 

Theo left your lap and launched himself at Tom. You didn’t know you would feel so emotional when Theo finally met Tom as his father. You just thought it wouldn’t be until he was older so you weren’t prepared for it. 

“Are you staying, daddy?” Theo asked the man. Tom felt like all of the oxygen was knocked out of his body when Theo called him that. 

He looked over at you and you reluctantly nodded your head. “Yeah, buddy. I’m staying.” He answered. Theo jumped up and down on the couch before you scolded him. 

“Hey, hey, we don’t jump on couches anymore, remember? Besides, it’s past your bedtime.” You told him. “I wanna show daddy my room.” Theo. “He can put you to bed. Now go get your PJs.” You said. 

Theo got off the couch and ran down the hallway towards his room. “He’s going to want to show you all of his Marvel stuff but only for five minutes. After that, tuck him in with his Black Panther stuffie. Then you have to read him a story or he’ll never fall asleep.” You explained to Tom as you stood up. 

“You did a really good job with him.” Tom commented. “I know.” You smiled fondly. “I don’t have to stay if you don’t want me too.” He said. “You’ll sleep in the spare room. He wants you in his life so you have to be here. And tomorrow, we’ll go get Tessa.” You told him. 

Tom smiled at you as you retreated to the kitchen to pick up a bit before bed. Tom walked down the hallway towards Theo’s room and found him all tucked in bed with various pieces fo Marvel collectibles. 

“Daddy, daddy! Come look at the things mommy and Uncle Chwis got for me!” He said to Tom. Tom happily obliged and sat on the edge of the bed as Theo began to explain what everything was. 

You leaned against the doorframe and observed the two together for a short while. You had a lot of healing to do with Tom but you couldn’t deny the fact that Theo needed his dad, despite Tom’s past mistakes. 

[luninosity]

Okay, so, some Falcon and the Winter Soldier thoughts (will have some spoilers) for episodes two and three. General non-spoilery comment first: I feel like these were both *okay* episodes - neither as good as the first, but I didn’t dislike them, either. I’m still really curious to see how we’re going to wrap this all up in three more episodes; it doesn’t feel like we’re halfway done yet!

Okay, more spoiler-y notes below the Read More, not in any real order, just as I think and type. I’ll probably forget some things, but for now, here’re some thoughts...

--I like ep 3 slightly more than ep 2, mostly because of Zemo!

--I actually really love Zemo here (I liked him in Civil War, too): complex, sardonic, enjoying poking at people, a villain we do feel sympathy for even as he’s still sharp enough to remind us that he is a villain. Daniel Bruhl has always done a fantastic job flipping between calculated cruelty, wry humor - the whole “I am a Baron” moment was great - and pain that for him is still raw, about the loss of his family. (Some things’re awfully cliche - look, the supervillain’s playing chess and reading Machiavelli in his cell? really? - but, y’know...sure. Why not. We expect some cliches in the superhero genre, and this is an inoffensive one.)

--also Zemo dancing. That’s it. That’s everything.

--moving on from that: I’m also really liking how they’re writing John Walker. He does have charm, and there’s a certain amount of sympathy - especially as we see him worrying about filling the Captain America shoes, in ep 2 - but we’re also getting this really subtle sense of wrongness about him. He’s clearly vindictive and angry when things (and people) don’t act according to his mental script for them, and he’s willing to use his name and power to do things like get Bucky released...which in context and given our sympathies for Bucky is a good thing, but...it’s also an indicator of his willingness to do what he wants, because he can. (To be fair, Steve Rogers also often did that! - but Steve earned our trust, both in narrative and character. From his first introduction to WWII leadership experience to all the Avengers stuff, Steve consistently acts to protect people, and he’ll also listen if someone else has a good idea or if someone needs to talk, like with Wanda.) So I’m really liking this slow-fuse character development.

--mixed feelings about Sharon. I love that the show’s acknowledging how much she sacrificed for our main heroes, with no reward. On the other hand, she also clearly knew the consequences that could happen; she said as much at the time. The level of bitterness seems like a lot. But I’m also interested in everything we still don’t know about her - if she’s not the Power Broker herself, she’s obviously Up To Something. So that should be fun.

--hey, look at that X-Men location, with Majipoor! Also a nod to Wolverine’s favorite bar there, I think?

--I love heist and disguise plots!

--I also really like Bucky’s having to revert to the Winter Soldier - Sebastian Stan does it so brilliantly, with so many layers of emotion: not wanting to, loathing it, recognizing the necessity, shutting off all emotion and just coldly doing it, hurting but covering it up...just fantastic, and you know I love some hurt/comfort, and this seems like such a great set-up for emotional hurt

--but! this also seems like...a weird plot hole, kind of? Bucky’s pretty famous at this point, right? I imagine the criminal underworld knows he’s been pardoned and deprogrammed, right? or do they assume Zemo, with his knowledge of Hydra, still has some special control over him?

--along the same “this seems like someone didn’t think this through” path, Sam, you’re a professional, turn off your phone on a mission. Oh my god. Face-palmingly stupid - and I think somewhat lazy writing, as the writers plainly needed a giveaway, and went for the first idea they had. Even if it made a main character look incompetent.

--the Flag Smashers and Karli are...fine. They feel very Generic Marvel Villain - not the big space alien type, but the other type, the “I have a personal loss and motivating pain so I’m a little sympathetic but also Clearly Evil, watch me kill civilians so the audience won’t ever find me TOO sympathetic” type. Meh. Fine. Zemo’s more interesting, but...fine.

--Anthony Mackie is such a fantastic actor - every bit of his reaction to the Isaiah Bradley reveal is so good. The anger, pain, frustration, ferocity...heartbreaking. Actually that whole scene is so good - his emotions at discovering this secret history are palpable, and it’s so painful, because we also understand why Bucky would keep the secret - as someone who knows about pain and trauma and being experimented on, and knowing Isaiah wants to be left alone - we feel really deeply for both characters here, and it’s great.

--I actually liked the abrupt swing from the Isaiah Bradley encounter to the casual everyday racism of the cops on the street - is it subtle, no. But it’s not meant to be: it’s meant to be standing up and shouting about how not that much has really changed, and about how pervasive racism is. I know some reviews were all, “this was just too much!” or “too forced!” but...look, it needs to be shouted sometimes for people to hear.

--Bucky’s notebook being Steve’s, oh, ouch, my feelings. If I had the time and energy to write fic...

--(also, if I had the time and energy to write dark!fic: where’re my fics in which Zemo’s implication about the Winter Soldier “doing anything you want” gets played with? what or who does Bucky have to do to keep the undercover charade going? so many Bad Wrong Kinky power dynamics and explorations of consent and what this would do to Bucky’s head, here, and honestly I’d totally read them all, just saying.)

--Sam and Bucky together...I don’t know. This is one of the elements that I’m not actually a huge fan of, but I think it’s partly a personal genre / sense of humor thing that’s not clicking for me, personally, again. Like...

--I don’t find people shouting aggrievedly at each other to be funny? I’m not sure why it is.

--I mean, I get that they’re doing, like, eighties buddy cop movies, but...it got old really fast then, and it’s not something we needed to bring back. It’s not clever, and it’s...well, shouty and annoying.

--(I say this as someone who genuinely likes the first two Lethal Weapon movies...but the significant difference is, I think, we’re also shown in both those movies that Riggs and Murtaugh care about each other. They don’t want to be partners initially, and they don’t get along initially, and they do argue over tactics**...but they immediately feel responsible for each other and act to protect each other even as they argue, because it’s the right thing to do and we’re shown moments of them awkwardly trying to connect, because they both have that deep sense of...protectiveness...that makes them Good People - like, if they learn something that the other person needs to know, they tell each other. They protect each other’s families / love interests. So by the end of the second movie, with that fabulous character death fake-out, Murtaugh’s initial shock and grief is real and powerful and painful, and so is his genuine relief when the worst isn’t true - and it’s all earned.) (**however, they tend to argue tactics *before* jumping in - “is it 1, 2, 3, go on 3? or 3, then go?” And then once that’s established, they go ahead. That makes a difference as far as...well...competence and teamwork!)

--(Sam and Bucky, as far as I can tell, don’t do the above, and just...maybe shouldn’t be working together?)

--I also don’t find grown men acting like my youngest nephew, when he’s having a temper tantrum, to be funny. Staring contests? Random insults? Sulking in silence? Oh, grow up.

--(Also, yes, writers, we see you with the “couples therapy” and “get closer and make your legs touch” and “landing on top of each other as they hit the ground” moments. I, at least, personally, am very tired of...I don’t know that I’d call it queerbaiting exactly, but this idea that we’re supposed to find these moments funny...because why? Because, ooh, they’re two men getting close to each other, physically or emotionally? Why is this a thing we need to draw attention to? Do you think you’re doing some sort of fan service? Please either make Sam/Bucky happen or stop doing this.)

--both Sam and Bucky are highly competent and professional agents, or they should be. They should know how to work in the field - even with people they may not like - and adapt to shifting strategy, make best use of available assets, include people in the plan, etc. I can’t help but compare this to something like, say, Leverage, which also has a team who mocks each other and makes jokes but clearly absolutely respects each other’s capabilities, has a plan going in and tells everyone what the plan is, and adapts (and trusts each other to adapt) on the fly as necessary, and does it all without random insults about someone’s (PTSD-related) staring and “robot brain”.

--one of the very specific moments that bothers me a lot is the ending of the therapy scene (yay for showing heroes in therapy! but also I’m pretty sure she’s...not a great therapist?). Bucky finally opens up and says something real, about his own self-doubt and wondering whether Steve was wrong about him....and Sam just...brushes it off and goes, “we’re done here,” basically. Not only does that feel wildly out of character for former counselor Sam, it feels cruel. I really deeply dislike that moment the more I think about it. Makes me want to scream.

--Sam insults Bucky way more than the other way around. It’s starting to feel very one-sided (it’d be better if more clearly reciprocal, though it’s still not a dynamic that’s my favorite), and again, feels out of character - maybe this is Anthony Mackie’s sense of humor, but Sam isn’t Mackie, and Bucky isn’t Seb, and it reads as...a weird unbalanced power-trip thing to me. And also out of character for Sam, who can be sarcastic (”If you guys eat that sort of thing,” about breakfast, when Steve and Nat have randomly shown up at his door) but that’s not the same as just throwing unprovoked insults at a person who’s trying to recover from trauma, and a lot of those insults seem to center on things that were done to Bucky, that he had no choice in (the staring, the arm, etc), and that feels....it just feels mean, to me. Make fun of things he’s had a choice in / can do something about, if you have to - hair, clothes, liking “old people’s games” like gin rummy or pinochle, not knowing who Beyonce is, I don’t know, there are so many options that aren’t cruel! Do that instead. Let Bucky have a good comeback for once, too!

--the action scenes are action scenes. Also fine.

--Sam might be right about destroying the shield, and the show may even be (unintentionally?) setting that up as the best outcome, but that’s a problem for the future, Sam; get it back first. Also it’s a problem you caused by giving the shield up - did you really trust the government to leave it unused in a museum? You’re not that naive.

--overall, it’s...a perfectly fine show, so far, I think? Solid, and interesting, but not great. I think some of what doesn’t work for me is because it doesn’t work for me personally, as far as the shouty insult-heavy action “comedy” bits that I’m not enjoying, but I think they’re doing what they aimed for with it, so in that sense, I guess it’s working? There’s a lot of really cool stuff around the edges - John Walker, Isaiah Bradley, that Dora Milaje stinger, the bigger world of a history interwoven with racism and superpowers, the chillingly effective use of Bucky’s past - but I wish I liked the central Sam-Bucky relationship more. Individually they’re wonderful - they’ve both had such powerful scenes dealing with family, trauma, and consequences - but I feel like, in the effort to do the buddy comedy dynamic, the writing has just made me really sure that they actually genuinely don’t like each other? To such an extent that if they show any affection / caring / interest in each other in the last three episodes, it won’t be believable. (I mean Sam and Bucky, not Mackie and Seb. Mackie and Seb’re adorable.)

--I just want to think about Zemo dancing some more.

[mywingsareonwheels]

A thing about Anthony Mackie

Ugh, I didn’t want to be writing this this evening but here we are. Anyway, here are my thoughts. I am not really up for talking about it much though. V exhausted.

[behind the cut for reasons of: references to homophobia, references to racism, some length, me being an Anthony fan and this not having changed]

1. I’m really not sure that what Anthony said in that Variety interview came out quite as he intended it. It was somewhat ambiguous and nonsensical to me (though I have only read the transcript so far). But whatever, I mean, maybe i’m just soft-hearted and old and reading it wrong but to my mind it... wasn’t that bad?

2. At any rate, whatever he precisely meant, I really don’t think he’s homophobic.

3. The pressure on Anthony as a Black man when it comes to portraying masculinity is extremely extra intense. The pressure on him as a Black man playing Captain America is also extremely extra intense. He’s under so much scrutiny, a lot of it very hostile and racist. Fellow white fans: please can we be very and especially aware of this, and be extra aware that not all of those finding fault with him will be doing so for valid reasons so we should be really really careful what we’re reblogging just now?

4. Just in general: please can we cut him some fricking slack?

5. In fact please can we generally give actors that bit more fricking slack when they don’t express themselves perfectly in interviews, and/or don’t say what we most want them to say? I’m not saying we should excuse everything but, within reason, some generosity of spirit seems occasioned? Especially as I doubt any of us would manage any better; I know I wouldn’t. I’d be flailing about all over the place, saying any amount of stuff that would come out all wrong. Also: an actor’s job is to act, not to answer interview questions. It’s a totally different skillset - and one that most actors never come close to needing.

6. There is a problem with Hollywood being reluctant to show platonic affection and love between men. It is true that the reasons for this are actually about Hollywood’s homophobia (inc. its homophobic reaction to shipping culture) rather than about shipping culture itself, and it’s not anything like as big a problem as Hollywood’s reluctance to have actual queer relationships ever. Hollywood is fucking homophobic and it’s exhausting. But, you know. The lack of really close platonic affection between men in media portrayals is a real thing, and I suspect is often worse when the men aren’t both white. Fundamentally Hollywood’s pretty terrible at realistic and positive portrayals of *all* kinds of love; this is one example. And Mackie’s allowed to find this one frustrating, as an (as far as we know) het man whose friendships are clearly very important to him.

7. I am a queer, nonbinary trans man and I’m slightly older than Anthony; I’ve also been shipping m/m and f/f characters for literal decades. Like, I don’t want to police anyone else’s response; if fellow queers are feeling hurt by his comment, of course that’s valid, and you absolutely don’t have to like him. But for myself: nah, I still like him a lot, obviously I wish he’d said something different and expressed what he did say better but I’m still good with him. (And sambucky is still my second favourite mcu ship (jointly with samstevebucky ;-) ) after stucky! I didn’t get any impression that Anthony actually minds people shipping, fwiw. And none of these ships was ever going to become canon under Disney+ anyway, we know this.)

8. There’s a horrible likelihood that this incident will be seized on the harassment culture perpetrators and that Anthony’s going to have an extremely rough time for a while. Especially because he is Black and already under horrible amounts of racist scrutiny. Also because he’s close friends with Sebastian Stan who’s also having a very rough time with harassers, and I suspect some of those may now start including Anthony in the harassment. :-( I hope I’m wrong on all these counts, because no one deserves that bullshit. :-/

Urrrggh. Not really intending to write any more on this, but just. I wanted to say those things. <3

[nastasyafilippovnas]

Imagine: Kate shows up, is absolutely amazing, realises Anthony is a mess of a man and is like “nah” and marries next seasons version of Prince Fredrich and Anthony tells violet to leave him alone and marries Siena, like he is obviously meant too, and everyone lives happily ever after.

That would be amazing. <3 also, I got really inspired after this ask, lol, but in an angsty way, so, let's just say this is in the beginning of this imaginary s02, before we can get to the everyone lives happily ever after: 

"why are you wasting both of our time when you so clearly wish you were with someone else?”, anthony & kate talking, santhony, kate/oc, wc. 1.2k (ao3 link)

After their dance, Lord Bridgerton escorted her to one of the quietest corners of the ballroom, a private place for them to talk to while still in plain view of the ton. Kate supposed that, to anyone watching, they would seem rather intimate. In fact, she could almost see the pleased smiles on her mama and the Dowager Viscountess’ faces, as they imagined planning another wedding at the end of the season. She resisted the urge to groan in discontentment, for it would be most unladylike. 

Kate wasn’t completely opposed to marriage and the Viscount was certainly a fine catch, but he was so dull and proper the whole time. He knew nothing of India and he didn’t seem interesting in learning about her country or even herself. That is, besides what was necessary to ascertain that she would be an adequate wife.

If she were to marry, surely, there were better, more exciting prospects to be found amongst London’s society. Someone charming, travelled, eager to explore new lands, who would treat her as his equal. Someone… not unlike Captain Ellingsworth, whom she met on her travel from India to England. She had enjoyed their conversations on the deck of the ship immensely, as the Captain told her about his travels and she shared stories of her country and culture. But the Captain never once mentioned marriage, and, besides, her papa would never consent to such a union, to a second son, that earned his living in the navy. 

Papa would not satisfy himself with anything less than a titled firstborn, like Lord Bridgerton, who had not said a word to her after escorting her from the dance floor and shoving a glass of water in her hand.

Kate looked back at him, ready to complain about his treatment, only to realize his gaze was fixed on the other side of the room, where a woman dressed in a sinfully (for the British, anyway) deep red laced gown was surrounded by a group of gentlemen.

Miss Rosso was undoubtedly the best soprano Kate had ever heard in her life. She had sang a couple of arias in the beginning of the ball, before the dancing had started, and was now receiving accolades from her adoring fans. A young one had even offered a bouquet of flowers and pledged his undying love to her, to the others’ amusement. Kate would’ve loved to meet her, to ask where she found the inspiration to sing with such passion, but it wouldn’t be proper for a young, unmarried lady such as herself to entertain such company. 

The Viscount, she noticed, also seemed incapable to take his eyes away from her. It was so glaringly obvious that Kate wondered how it had taken her so long to see it. He had asked her to dance as soon as Miss Rosso’s performance had come to an end, his movements both purposeful and stiff, as if he was forcing himself to do it, as if he had something to prove to someone. And she prided herself on being observant, really!

Kate took a sip from her water glass and decided to act accordingly to what she, personally, always felt was her best quality: blunt honesty.

“You know, why are you wasting both of our time when you so clearly wish you were with someone else?” 

He looked back at her quickly, confusion and guilty marring his sharp features, and she pointed discreetly with her head back to the other side of the room.

Lord Bridgerton followed the movement with his eyes and - because she had ben waiting for it this time - Kate saw as an expression of pain and longing crossed his face before the Viscount’s mask of indifference was back into place.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He said, turning back to look her in the eye. “I'm perfectly happy where I am.”

Kate raised one her eyebrows - a move she had copied from her late grandmother -, the skepticism obvious in her features. “I assure you, Miss Sharma, Miss Rosso and I are merely old acquaintances.” He paused and looked back across the room towards the woman they were discussing. The crowd of admirers around Miss Rosso seemed to have increased, if that was at all possible. Kate could see now that some of the older women, widows with nothing to fear for their reputation such as Lady Cowper and Lady Danbury, had also joined their circle. She was watching the crowd so intently, wondering if any of the ladies would be persuaded to introduce her to Miss Rosso, that she almost missed the viscount’s next words.

“She has made her decision about me a long time ago.” He muttered, more to himself than to her, she supposed.

Her mother would’ve told her to pretend she didn’t hear such confession, one that clearly spoke of a prior and scandalous attachment. 

But Kate never much heeded her mother’s advices.

“Is that so?” She enquired, forcing him to turn around and look at her. She didn’t know if the frown on his face was because she was daring to question him about his words or because she had forced him to pay attention to her, instead of looking across the room, to the one he wanted most. It didn’t much matter either way, she thought. “I find that most interesting.”

“Why is it interesting?” Lord Bridgerton asked, more out of politeness than anything else, she supposed. The British tried to keep their manners even amidst heartbreak.

Kate smiled softly. “When you’re not looking at, she is always looking at you, with that same expression of regret you have. It’s like a mirror. And her eyes followed you across the room the whole time we were dancing.” He closed his eyes during her speech, as if her words were unbearable. But there was so much Kate had noticed tonight, she couldn’t stop the words from coming. “When we waltzed, she…”

“That's enough.” He interrupted her sharply. “Thank you, Miss Sharma, but I think I shall retire for the evening." 

“But she…you…” For the first time, Kate didn’t know what to say. She might not have thought this whole think through. She had thought he would have been happy to know his affections were corresponded.

“I don’t know how it works on the eastern corners of the Empire,” Anthony said, and for the first time, Kate thought she heard a hint of curiosity in his voice, about a faraway land where their fates might’ve been different, “but here in London, there are no happy endings for rakes and prima donnas.”

“I don’t understand…you could…” She started saying, but Anthony was already shaking his head, closing the subject behind them. She had thought he had put on the Viscount mask on before, but it wasn’t anywhere close to the resolution he supported now. He looked like a completely different man and the change disturbed her. 

“I shall call on you and your sister tomorrow, if you will let me. We can go promenade if the weather is good.” He said, dropping a kiss to her gloved hand.

She didn’t consent to the visit, as she should have. She didn't felt the kiss he placed on her hand either. Instead, out of their own volition, her eyes travelled across the room, locking on a pair of light brown ones that were full of anguish. No one noticed her pain. Around her, they all smiled, dazzled by her talent and beauty, but, as Anthony left, Kate swore she saw the soprano shed a tear.

[pollenallergie]

Uncomfortable: Chapter One

The Wallflower

A/N: I recently got inspired to start writing again and since I looooove V!Faust, I figured I'd give writing about him another shot. I used a couple of black metal slang terms in this chapter, they will written in bold and their definitions can be found down at the bottom! Also, thank you so much @ill-skillsgard​ for all of your help with this!!! 

Pairing: V!Faust x Reader/OFC

Description: She wasn’t from his world, that much he knew immediately. He didn’t mean to notice her, but he did. He was too proud to admit it, but she captivated him, she intrigued him, she lured him to her without even trying, without even knowing it. She was too scared to admit it, but he captivated her too, she was drawn to him. They didn't belong together, anybody could see that, but they wanted each other. Their love was strange and, frankly, it made them uncomfortable. 

Warnings: use of adult language, 18+ only

Word Count: 723

   She wasn't from his world, she didn't belong here, that much he knew immediately. Faust didn't mean to notice her, but he did. He certainly wasn't glad that he noticed her because not long after he did, so did his friends. 

   "Look at that fucking poser," the new guy in the group teased as he pointed her out to the group. God, he hated that son of a bitch even more now. 

   "Think she's lost?" another guy chimed in, asking jokingly. The guy was Neck, a close friend of Faust's, but now he couldn't help but be annoyed by him. Of course he was joining in on the pathetic poser's little joke. Everyone in their circle thought that piece of shit new guy was kvlt, well, everyone except for Faust. Faust saw through his little charade, saw him for the poser that he really was.

   "Forget her, gentleman," the more eccentric member of the circle, Draugr, said as he joined the group, "we have business to attend to. We go on in five," he concluded as he ushered the members of his band backstage, leaving Faust and a few others behind with the rest of the metalheads there for the show. 

   The idiotic little poser had gone with them, he was their new lead vocalist, which meant she was temporarily safe from his ridicule. As for Neck, he had the attention span of a puppy. Within seconds of the band's departure, his attention was drawn away from her and towards a more pressing matter, debating how grymm tonight was going to be with a fellow headbanger. 

   Faust couldn't help but roll his eyes at this. It was safe to say that he was getting bored of this life, bored of his circle of friends, bored of the scene in general. He still liked the music, he loved the music, but the scene itself lacked the same flare it once had. It was fun when it was new, but now it had gone stale. The posers had infiltrated, the integrity had long been lost, and the desire to be original, to do something new and innovative had dwindled within the community. It wasn't about the music anymore, it was about the money and the fame, the exact opposite of what the truly evil men who founded Black Metal wanted. This bored Faust, he was bored, or at least that was the excuse he gave himself to explain why his attention kept drifting to her, the mousy girl in the corner. 

   It was obvious to Faust that she at least tried to blend in, what with her shiny new leather jacket that she probably bought the night beforehand, little black dress that was just an inch too long to resemble those the "pumas" usually wore, combat boots with an evident lack of wear to them, and intentionally smudged, dark makeup. Her failed attempt at fitting in was pathetically adorable, she was adorable, all the more reason why she didn't belong there. In a dark, crowded venue filled to the brim with loud, violent, angsty, immature metalheads all looking for any excuse to wreak some havoc, she stuck out like a sore thumb. Despite cowering back in the corner like a wallflower, she still drew so much attention to herself just by being there. 

   It was clear she didn't belong there and yet she so willingly stayed, that intrigued Faust. He kept his eyes on her for the rest of the night, deciding to hang back in a corner on the opposite side of the venue rather than to spend his time in the mosh pit with the rest of the headbangers in order to get a better look at her so maybe, just maybe, he could figure out what she was doing there in the first place. However, despite his persistence, Faust never did figure out why she was at the venue that night.

   One second he was observing her from afar, then Neck beckoned him, yelling out for him to join in the moshing for the final song. Faust shook his head, letting the shorter metalhead know that he would, in fact, not be joining him before reverting his attention back to her. However, when he turned his gaze back to her, he'd found that she was no longer there, gone without a trace as if she'd just disappeared.

-------

kvlt: adj. usually meant as a way of poking fun at the people who take Black Metal too seriously. Since Faust would obviously be one of those people that took it too seriously, I figured he would use it in less of a joking kind of way and in more of way to describe people like him.

grymm: adj. used to describe something cool, awesome, ‘metal’, wicked, etc. (the world ‘evil’ is also often used this way in metal/black metal slang).

pumas: I’m not sure if this actually a slang term that they use, but I do know that when the group of girls first walked up to the part in Lords Of Chaos, Hellhammer (played by Anthony De La Torre) says “fuckin’ pumas” while pointing at them. So I assume that “puma” is used to refer to a hot, metal chick like the girls that were at the party, the girls that would show up to their shows, their female fans, the girls they would sleep with, etc. It’s sort of like their groupies, but not really because according to Euronymous, “they don’t have any fucking groupies.”

-------

taglist: no one at the moment (let me know if you would like to be added to the taglist for this story) 

[gaiapaia]

Kermit and Friends: Happy Father’s Day

What a special episode this turned out to be!

It was Father’s Day on this edition of Kermit and Friends, and Elisa managed to get her dad Craig to show up for the occasion!

This was actually Craig’s first time ever on the show, including the original run of Kermit and Friends, which had over 300 episodes. He was such a great sport about everything and you could see where Elisa got both her beautiful smile and festive nature from.

Craig is pretty much a lifetime musician/performer. Elisa is named after the Beethoven song Für Elise and Craig has been in many bands, from Beatles cover bands to playing back-up for Elisa and Benjy’s concerts in New York City.

That’s pretty much the extent I know about Mr. Craig. He really seems like an awesome guy though. He wonderfully performed Big Boss Man by Jimmy Reed and Memphis by Chuck Berry. You could sincerely see his talent shine through with these performances, even with the limitations of an Ipad mic. Very impressive, and good taste in music too!

But of course, what everyone really wanted to see was Craig interact with Kermit and Friends guests, and most of all... with Andy Dick.

Before Craig had the opportunity to meet Andy though, he first got to meet Eric Riggs!

Somehow, Craig heard about Eric’s threat to chop Elisa’s head off last week, so he had some preconceived notions about the guy, to say the least. Eric started off the conversation with Craig with both good news and bad news. The good news was that Eric had a meeting with his Rabbi recently, and the bad news is that as long as Andy Dick is involved with Kermit and Friends, the “Jews” will never fund the show. Uh oh!

Eric would pop on and off throughout the rest of the episode with both calls and on-cam appearances from his car (supposedly in Los Angeles). Eric would mostly just rant about Andy and talk about things no one had a clue what he was referring to. From Andy sacrificing kids to Jews being the only good people in the World... Eric was basically Eric I guess. If you’re an Eric fan, he did not let you down yesterday.

But if you thought there was any chance of Eric saving face after Craig heard the rumors of his threats towards Elisa, it was not meant to be. Eric made the absolutely worst first impression anyone could ever make with a young lady’s father. You seriously couldn’t write this stuff.... ONLY on Kermit and Friends could this happen!

That said, Andy Dick did not present himself much better to Craig than Eric did.

First, I have to give props to Andy for even showing up. Andy told Elisa 20 minutes before the show that he was going to take a nap, and over an hour into the show, after countless calls and texts from multiple people to try to wake Andy up, nothing was working. I could see the disappointment in Elisa’s face and it broke my heart. Thankfully though just as Elisa was ready to end the show, Andy popped on and Elisa’s beautiful face lit up.

Like I said, Andy was taking a nap so he was understandably a bit weary. Unfortunately, Andy was also a bit grouchy! He cared very little at first that Craig was Elisa’s father. He started the conversation off with a “This is what you raised?” after Elisa asked Andy to adjust his camera. Yikes!

In typical Andy fashion he would almost immediately make up for it by crying over how special Elisa is. “I like when you cry talking about me Andy, can you do that again?” Elisa would politely ask, and then the criticism started all over again, “This is where she’s a little off kilter.”

This is pure comedic gold that can’t be scripted and only Kermit and Friends fans are able to enjoy it. This show deserves and needs more eyes on it. The World is missing out on so much laughter... makes me bummed but also even more grateful that I’m not missing it!

As mentioned, Craig was a great sport about everything. He never took offense to Eric or Andy; he even would get some funny jokes in towards them (”Eric reminds me of Anthony Perkins from Psycho”). Most importantly, you could tell Craig was having a fun time. He smiled all throughout his appearances and I hope in my heart that he felt proud of Elisa for putting on such an entertaining show that’s enjoyed by so many people.

Craig wasn’t the only star on yesterday’s spectacular show though. Kermit made a new friend named Katha Blackwell, author of the book Not Another Victim: A Woman's Guide to Avoiding a Bad Relationship.

Katha primarily focuses on abusive relationships and helping women get through any trauma they’ve endured from any volatile relationships they were a part of. Katha was raised in a household where she saw her mom abused, and it inspired her to try to help other women going through a similar situation. Thankfully Katha’s mother survived and got out, and Katha has been able to use the experience to help others. Beautiful story.

T-Bob not surprisingly was very smitten with Katha. What was surprising though was how charming and poignant T-Bob was with her, complimenting Katha and sharing a story of himself trying to stop an abusive relationship he saw taking place. I would love to see T-Bob show up on Kermit and Friends sober more often, especially since it also helps with his internet connection!

Sigmond and Wappy returned to perform some songs. Wappy did a beautiful rendition of Old Man by Neil Young where Sigmond would only chime in during the chorus. Wappy would later sing Get Out by Sublime and poor Sigmond wasn’t able to contribute anything in that performance! People were very curious what Sigmond actually does in the band. Well, I’ve linked their Soundcloud before where you can actually hear Sigmond read off material he wrote.... I’ll link it again here. Hopefully next week they will perform one of these songs where Sigmond is actually able to participate!

A funny note about Sigmond too yesterday was that he originally wore a plaid shirt that matched the blanket Wappy had hanging up on his wall, which made Sigmond blend in with it. Elisa asked him to change shirts and Sigmond would go on to do so TWICE. It might not sound funny written but visually if you go check it out, it’s hilarious!

Elisa shared a story about how she met the rapper G-Eazy the other night. I’m not going to lie... if it wasn’t for Elisa’s tweets, I most likely would have never heard of this guy, but I know Elisa has a big crush on him and I was happy to hear G-Eazy treated her nicely when they met. Anyone who treats Elisa with kindness is cool in my book! Consider me a fan now, G-Eazy. 

Gonzo made a lot of good calls yesterday. After Craig told some wholesome dad jokes, Gonzo chimed in with his own, “Who’s most likely to have a dead woman buried in his backyard? Sigmond.” Not a nice joke! Gonzo would later change the answer to Eric. Still not nice!

Gonzo’s hero Johnny B would perform Cats in the Cradle by Harry Chaplin twice on the show. The first time was when Andy came on, so the show continued rather than ended as scheduled, and the second time was interrupted by Eric’s incessant rambling, which did not make Johnny B happy!

What a Father’s Day. It was the perfect show, one that will never be forgotten. The first 75 minutes were very sweet and wholesome, and the next 75 minutes were just out of this World comedy where everyone was having the time of their lives. Like I said in last week’s review, when Elisa has fun... we all have fun, and she had a blast yesterday once Andy appeared. It was an all around glorious time, and I can’t wait for next week’s birthday show. Until then... I hope everyone reading this and their dads all had a wonderful Father’s Day. God bless you all. ❤️

[jamielea81]

Conversations

Chapter 3

Description: You accompany your friends on a day trip to Animal Kingdom Theme Park where you meet Scott Evans by chance. This one afternoon leads to a year long friendship with both Chris and Scott over text messages and phone calls.

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Warning: Cursing and fluff. I think that’s it.

A/N: Italics are internal thoughts.

Chapter 2

Deciding not to keep the fact the Chris texted you a secret from Scott, you quickly fired off a text to let him know about the exchange. He probably already knew. After all, he did give him your number. But just in case he didn’t know, you wanted to give him the heads up. Not that it would become a regular thing. Of course, it wouldn’t. Sure, the two of you texted for almost two hours last night, but it was probably a one and done kind of thing.

Y/N: Are you just passing out my number to random dudes now?

It was pretty early in the day for you to text him, but you were already at the venue for the Jonas Brothers concert and you weren’t sure what time you’d be home.

After grabbing a beer and picking out a seat in the press box of the arena, you grabbed out your trusty notepad and favorite pen and waited for the show to start.

The boys opened with Rollercoaster which got the crowd pumped, not that it took much to get the screams going. When they sang your favorite song Cool, you couldn’t help but sing along. You recorded yourself singing along with Nick to Jealous, sending it to Jana and then to Scott.

 With traffic, it was close to midnight before you got home. Changing into your pajamas and washing away today’s makeup, you fell into bed. Tomorrow was Sunday and you had nothing on the roster besides writing your review of the concert for Monday’s paper.

You were attempting to read a novel Brooks had recommended to you on your Kindle for the third time that week when your phone buzzed from the night stand.

Scott: Are you home?

Y/N: Yep. All snuggled into my bed.

Not five seconds after you hit send, your phone was ringing.

“Good evening Scott,” you answered.

“Hello Pavarotti. Who knew you had those pipes?” Scott greeted you.

“Pipes? Are you talking about my chest?” Fake shock in your voice.

“Har-har. Did you send your little video performance to my brother?” he asked.

“What? No. Why would I do that? It’s not like we’re friends or anything?”

“So, it was strictly business last night? He just texted to apologize and nothing else?”

Is he a mind reader?

“Well, no,” you hesitated. “But it’s not like I’ll hear from him again. He was just being nice.” You shrugged your shoulders even though you knew he couldn’t see you. You really needed a dog or something for times like these.

“We’ll see. How was the concert?” he asked.

“No. No. No. Let’s back up. What do you mean we’ll see? You can’t just change the subject like that on me.”

Scott chuckled through the receiver. “I just meant that my brother has a habit of not letting people go once he likes them. He said he thought you were funny.”

Hmm. Funny. That’s as good a compliment as any. Chris Evans thinks you’re funny.

You’d have to try really hard not to let that go to your head.

 Scott ended up being right, though you wouldn’t tell him that. Chris didn’t let you go. He technically didn’t have you, not that you would have complained, but he kept texting you. The two of you didn’t chat as often as Scott and you did, but it was more than you would have ever expected.

It started casually enough with him texting you a few nights after reaching out to you the first time.

Chris: It’s my right to be hellish, I still get jealous

Y/N: He sent you the video, didn’t he?

Chris: I have no idea what you’re talking about.

A day or two would go by and you’d get another text similar to the last. Just a random musing reaching out. You never initiated because you still weren’t sure what the two of you were. He was your friend’s brother and you weren’t one to push boundaries.

Chris: If you overnighted me a Mickey Premium Ice Cream Bar, what are the odds it would get to me not melted?

Y/N: Aren’t you in Cali? Can’t you just go to Disneyland or send someone to get you one?

Chris: Send someone 🙄

Chris: I’m in New York for Fallon

Y/N: Oh, fuck, that’s right. Don’t tell Scott I forgot.

Y/N: Most grocery stores sell boxes of the bars now by the way.

Chris: It’s not the same.

Y/N: You’re right.

Chris: Usually am sweetheart.

You’re stomach flipped at the nickname. You wouldn’t be telling Scott about this conversation. Nope, you’d keep that one to yourself.

 It was just after seven when you walked in your door, two grocery bags in hand and your phone ringing in your purse.

“Hold on. Hold on,” you called out as if the person could hear you.

Dropping the bags on the stovetop, your dug into your purse, grabbing your phone, catching the call on what was sure to be the eighth ring.

How many rings before it goes to voicemail?

“Hey Scott,” you answered out of breath.

“Hey Sassy,” he replies. You hear someone repeat the nickname in the background. Chris, maybe. You’re not sure. “Chris and I are having dinner with Jimmy and his wife, so I wanted to give you a quick call. Just wanted to let you know the show was completely a snooze fest, there is no need to watch it.”

“Don’t listen to him Y/N. Watch it. A few times maybe,” you hear Chris say in the background.

You hadn’t talked to him on the phone, only via text. It was kind of weird to hear him say your name. Sure, you exchanged a few words on the ride at Animal Kingdom, but this was…different.

You chuckled at their antics. “Jimmy and his wife. As if I’m on a first name basis with him. Cute,” you replied.

“I don’t know who else you know. You’ve got two Evans brothers as friends, who knows what other friends ya have,” he replied.

“You are a dork. I’ll be sure to watch tonight and give you my notes tomorrow. Have fun Grumpy. Say hi to the other dork for me.”

You hear him tell Chris what you said.

“Bye sweetheart,” Chris shouts.

There goes your stomach again.

“Bye sweetheart,” Scott mocks. You hear a muttered “shuddup” before the call disconnects.

Since the Tonight Show didn’t start until eleven thirty at night, you made sure to be ready for bed before it started. Pajamas on. Check. Teeth brushed. Check. Makeup off. Check. Glass of water on your night stand. Check. Cellphone on hand to harass Scott if need be. Check.

You sent a text to your friend April back in Minnesota to let her know Chris was going to be on. She was a huge Chris Evans fan with a Captain America merchandise collection that could rival any extreme collector. She of course already knew he was going to be on but thanked you anyway. She didn’t know about your new friendship. No. Acquaintanceship with Chris. No one did besides Scott, Jana, and Brooks. It was better to keep it that way.

Chris’ segment was great and you expected nothing less. Revealing that he spoiled the end of Endgame for Anthony Mackie was both funny and sweet. He looked good in his stripped shirt and navy blazer and you expected nothing less in that aspect as well, even if his white sneakers were a little too white for your liking.

When Scott joined Chris on stage to play “Know Your Bro”, you knew the segment was going be hilarious.

The audience as well as yourself were giggling after Scott told the story of Chris pushing him as a child, causing Scott to split his head open resulting in the need to get stitches.

“You know you pushed me. Listen,“ Scott said

“Yeah, but that was between us,” Chris replied, finding it hard to keep his laughter under control.

It was Chris’ turn to tell a story and it was one that you would be sure to bring up in the future. Scott had stomach issues when he was little and for lack of a better word, pooped his pants three times while out skiing with his family. This was not the story Scott expected. You were laughing so hard you were crying. It was great segment. You spent the better part of a half hour searching YouTube for past segments with the two of them.

Before calling it a night, you sent Scott a text knowing you probably wouldn’t get one back tonight.

Y/N: You two should hit the road together. Like a traveling two-man act. I’d pay top dollar to see this act in person!

To your surprise, you did get a text back.

Scott: You couldn’t afford us.

 Traffic was a nightmare with cars on the road at a virtual standstill and you weren’t exactly sure why. Traffic would move a little with your car reaching fifteen miles per hour and then the brake lights would all hit at once again. Really, on I-4 it could be anything causing this back up, but you usually were able to time your day so that you missed most of the congestion. You had a meeting at the office that you couldn’t be late for. Part of the agreement with planning your own schedule was that you had to be at the paper for meetings. This would be the second time you were late in the years you’ve worked there, but you weren’t sure if it was three strikes and you’re out kind of thing. Your phone started to ring, figuring it was the office, your answered it via your steering wheel since it was hooked up to Bluetooth.

“This is Y/N,” you answered.

“Hey sweetheart, it’s Chris.”

There goes your stomach again.

“H-hey Chris. What’s up?”

Chill out. Breath. This is cool. You are cool.

He had never called you before, so this was different.

“Not much. Just wanted to see how you were. Do you have me on speaker phone or something?” he asked.

“Um, kind of. I’m driving.”

“Oh, anywhere fun?”

“Nope, just to the office. What are you up to?” you asked, trying your best not to hit the person in front of you.

“Just hanging out in New York for another day. Not much. Scott disappeared on me, nothing new there.”

“Oh, yeah,” you said, clearly distracted from the stop and go traffic you were stuck in. “Fuck,” you swore under your breath.

Chris laughed out loud which brought you out of your haze. “You okay, Y/N?” he asked.

“I’m sorry. I’m going to be late for a meeting and am stuck in traffic. I really can’t be late.”

Chris didn’t say anything for what felt like a minute and you thought maybe you lost the call.

“What’s the address of your office?” Chris asked.

“Why?”

“Just answer the question Sassy,” Chris teased.

“Now you’re both calling me that?” you chuckled. “Um, it’s six three three North Orange Avenue.”

“How far are you?” he asked.

“Maybe fifteen, twenty minutes probably with this traffic,” you replied.

“I’ll call you back in a few,” he said, ending the call before you could reply.

“Well that was really freaking weird,” you said, turning the volume back up on the radio.

True to his word, Chris called you back about five minutes later.

“When you pull off the freeway, you need to go to five five seven East Amelia Street,” he said.

What?

“Chris, I don’t think you understand. I’m late for work. There’s no time to stop anywhere,” you said, clearly exasperated.

“It’s a bakery. There will be an order there under your name. It’s already paid for and they promised it would be all boxed up and ready for when you arrived.”

“I don’t understand. An order? Chris.”

“If you’re late for something, it’s best to show up with a peace offering. Just trust me sweetheart. Call me later,” he said.

“Okay. Um, thanks, Chris.”

“No problem. We’ll talk soon. Bye,” he said.

 You pulled into the bakery a few minutes later, sure enough, two twelve count boxes of cupcakes were waiting for you. One box was marked vegan. He really did think of everything.

Walking into the conference room was nerve racking to say the least. Your boss James eyed you but didn’t call you out. You set the boxes on the table before taking a seat. Once he finished his thought, you cleared your throat.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” you licked your lips and steadied yourself for the lie. “I wanted to pick up a treat for everyone and it took longer than expected.” You stood up, and got to work opening the boxes. “Please help yourselves,” you said with a smile.

At the end of the meeting, everyone had a smile on their face, including James. There was one cupcake left, you grabbed it out of the box and walked it over to James.

“I won’t tell anyone if you don’t,” you said, placing it in front of him and offering a wink while everyone cleared out of the room.

He offered you a smile before you turned to walk away.

It was just after eight when you picked up your phone to call Chris. You were nervous, so nervous. Even though he was the one to call you first, it was still nerve racking to call him. The two of you had been texting for a couple of weeks, but talking on the phone felt more intimate. Before you could change your mind, you clicked on his contact and the line was ringing.

“Heeeelllo,” he answered.

Immediately he put you at ease. “Hey, you dork,” you replied.

“How’d your meeting go?”

“Much better thanks to you. That was very sweet and really smart thinking on your part,” you said.

He scoffed. “You think so little of me?”

“Well, I was led to believe Scott had all the brains.” You couldn’t help the smile on your face.

He scoffed again. “Wait a minute. Where do you get off lady? Thinkin’ my baby brother has all the smarts. I’ll have you know, I read.” Boston accent on full display.

You started to crack up. You tried to get your breathing under control, but it was coming out as wheezing. He started to chuckle and you shook your head.

“I apologize. Truly. Please forgive me sir.”

“Fine. Fine. As long as you never doubt me again,” he said.

“Never.”

 You went to bed with a smile on your face that night and woke up with one as well. Chris was your friend. As strange as that was, it was true.

Unplugging your phone from the charger, you saw you had a couple of texts from Chris.

Does he ever sleep?

Chris: 'Cause you're too sexy beautiful           And everybody want to taste, that's why, that's why           I still get jealous

Chris: Heading to LA. Have a good day sweetheart.

Chris was your friend. Yep. He was just your friend and you needed to remember that.

Chapter 4

Tag list: @mustangshelby04​ @bellaireland1981​ @carolina-thiell​  @straightforwardly​ @torntaltos​ @denise1605​ @mcuclintasha​ @southerngracela​ @iam-cj @trynnabemultifandom​ @chrisevansforever-blog​ @kelbabyblue​ @broadwayandnetflix​ @kyjey​ @thevelvetseries​ @i-just-feel-like​ @daddieslittlefangirl​ @hista-girl @stankface​ @denisemarieangelina​ @im-not-an-armrest-im-short​ @whymalu @the-doctors-fallen-angel​ @mariswritingforfun​ @tessabb7​ @chrisevansfanfic​ @lakamaa12​ @thinkxlovexloud​@deidrashouseofpain @nea90sweetie​ @the-murder-strut-murdered-me​ @tanelle83​ @pinknerdpanda​ @allaboutthebooz​ @estillion14​ @panicfob​ @patzammit​ @heartislubbingdubbing​ @collinsstanharbour​ @twittytelly​ @linki-locks11​ @mywinterwolf​ @ab-baybay​ @rda1989 @impalaimages @jesseswartzwelder​ @rainbowkisses31​ @xostephanie​

[jungle321jungle]

Ten Of Swords: Level One

The world of Swords of Power and Conquest was one Virgil dove head first into, giving his soul and life to the game. He would play whenever he could, and had even decided he wanted to go into game design. At times he had even dreamt of how wonderful it would be to be inside that world for even a moment- until that world became his reality.

The familiar world he had come to love was now a foreign prison, one with no way out.

A Log Horizon AU. If you don’t know what that is, this is a Show Better Than SAO AU. If you still don’t know, the sides get trapped in a video game.

Ao3 - Masterlist 

Taglist: @hells-missing-a-goat @angels-and-dreams @ollyollyoxinfree @gattonero17 @chumo-cookie @dreaming-always @anxiety-ismy-name @mrbubbajones @janustheliar

~~~~

Level One: A Place That Doesn’t Really Exist

He had gotten the game on a whim out of boredom. It was something he heard of a lot from kids at school, but with a laptop as old as his he had never considered getting it himself. And then he got a new laptop for his birthday. And a few days later, knowing he’d be bored during his family’s Christmas party, he downloaded it. It had taken forever honestly, and he kept going back and forth to his room to see when it would finally be ready for him to play. When it finally was prepared he had sat on his bed surrounded by younger cousins who had made their way into his room (past the door he had been 80% sure he had locked) and made his character. They had opinions on his character’s look, and even the name. But finally he thought he had found a way to both trick and satisfy the kids, and typed the name of the toddler in. He had fully expected the system to reject the name and then the kids couldn’t complain when he changed it to something he actually wanted. He hadn’t expected the game however to fucking accept “Anthony” as his screen name.

It had been a stupid introduction gaming, but back then Virgil didn’t realize how much of an impact Swords of Power and Conquest would have on his life. At one point he had thought the name was cheesy, but soon enough just like the rest of the world of Lirya, Virgil fell in love with it.

The intricacies of the many skills available, the complex fighting system which interpreted those skills, and the way it seemed to thrive without any form of class systems, were all mesmerizing to Virgil in ways he couldn’t describe. He had thrown himself into the game playing day and night (much to his parents’ dismay), and fell more in love with it each moment.

He had tried other games, at the urging of friends who claimed Swords was too pointless with all the holes in its main quest. Those games had been fun, and Virgil had even tried a bunch of different genres. But there was something about Swords which always pulled him back. Maybe because it was his introduction, or perhaps because the constantly updating side quests and his in game friends were too great to give up. So much so that years later Virgil found himself not only playing, but wanting to go into game design. He wanted to create- to work on something just as good, if not better than Swords. To give someone else the feeling he had when he first started the game.

He was a true geek wasn’t he?

“I could’ve told you that,” Simon commented.

Virgil rolled his eyes as he typed out his reply, you can’t tell but I’m rolling my eyes

He heard as the guy gave a slight laugh, “You know the point of this feature is to talk right?”

My roommate’s napping, he was feeling sick

“Rude of him... I just got a message from Tact. Apparently he wants to meet and talk.”

What about?

“Doesn’t say. Just says he has some info worth paying for.”

Go handle it. I’ll watch things here

“Sounds good, don't get more handsome while I’m away.”

Virgil rolled his eyes but didn’t bother to reply as Sam teleported out. He gave a stretch as he looked about his screen and the empty shop. On the other side of that virtual wall would be customers hanging out and lounging around, he supposed he could switch outfits and join those working, but he wouldn’t gain much from that. Maybe it was time to sign off for the night, he could watch some of the Twins’ videos. The latest guild had apparently done a large raid against one of the sphinxes of legend, that would be a cool video to watch. With that thought in mind he logged off and when the window was closed he noticed his calendar open.

His calendar with words written in red for the following day.

CALC TEST

A curse slipped from Virgil’s mouth as he glanced at his clock. 5:34. If he skipped dinner and studied straight until midnight maybe- just maybe something would stick. Hopefully.

~~~~

Virgil was on the brink of committing murder.

Not only was he stressed about his exam in the morning, but his roommate’s, Jonas’, NyQuil fueled snoring had been loud enough on its own. But on top of that there was  the sound of their neighbors. Virgil had never been a fan of those living in the room to his left. This was usually on account of one them seeming to have an “overnight guest” over too often subjecting Virgil to sounds he wished to erase from memory. But tonight that wasn’t the case (at least not yet), tonight was a party.

A loud party which had gone on far too long.

The party had begun probably around nine or ten. And since it had only persisted and grew in volume. At first Virgil had knocked on his wall annoyed, but when that had yielded nothing he had gone over right before midnight to complain about the noise. The one who had opened the door had been taller than him, and if Virgil wasn’t so annoyed and tired he probably would’ve found himself spending more time staring at that gorgeous face as opposed to bitching about the noise. The guy had nodded once and had promised to quiet down.

But that had been two hours ago.

And it seemed Virgil’s second trip to yell at his neighbors to shut the fuck up a few minutes prior had done just as much good. So there was only one course of action left.

“You told the fucking RA?”

Virgil looked up from where he had been staring at his Calc notes in preparation for the test about to begin to the face (of who else but) his neighbor. “I asked you to quiet down twice,” Virgil replied looking back down to the equations in front of him.

“But tattling? What are you? Five?”

Virgil took a deep breath as he looked back up to that face. “It was two am.”

“I don’t care. No one else on the floor seemed to care.”

“That’s not my fault.”

“Alright everyone!” The professor cut in. “It's that time!”

As if calculus exam’s weren’t bad enough on their own, his neighbor’s eyes were glaring holes into the back of his head the entire time. He definitely failed that test. And the pop quiz in CS. And then he had left his Spanish homework in his room (and turns out the asshole neighbor is in that class too). Oh and of course he couldn’t forget he still had an essay due.

Today was just shit in its purest form.

And there was only one shovel Virgil knew how to use.

He couldn’t stop the sigh of relief which escaped his lips as he sunk into his desk chair.

“I take it you had an amazing day?”

Virgil just gave his roommate the finger as he pulled his laptop from his backpack. After glancing at the clock he could play for about an hour before needing to switch to writing his essay in order to be done before it’s due at 11:59. “Hey will you yell at me to stop in an hour?”

“Set a timer,” Jonas advised. “I’m not being yelled at again for forgetting.”

Virgil rolled his eyes before doing as he was told. With his timer set he pulled his headphones on and logged in. Logging in was accompanied by a message from Ralph.

The Silver Green Sharks and the Zora Regime are warring today on the Sheriyan Ruins in two hours. I’ll send a follow up with the exact coordinates soon as I know.

Virgil glanced at the time the message was sent with a smile as his inbox refreshed with a new message. Ralph seemed to have perfect timing as always.

He found a spot toward the outer ring of the ruins where he’d been hidden in the shadows of the collapsed building. And not a moment too soon, because it was then others began to arrive at site. But after nearly forty minutes, Virgil was finding neither guild seemed to be timely. They just seemed to have taken sides, but neither had bothered to attack. Virgil’s fingers were itching for something- anything to do. They needed to start fighting soon, before Virgil spent too long playing and his essay (and grade) suffered as a consequence. He sat there, spinning his phone’s ring stand in his hands and biting his tongue, and then a shout sounded over his headphones. He hadn’t been paying attention enough to know what it said, but the moment the voice ceased the two armies charged.

The chaos was instant, and Virgil had to stop himself from smiling at the sight- he had nothing to smile about just yet. His eyes scanned the details of everything in his character’s field of view- which wasn't much in this spot. But even if he moved further out he wouldn’t have enough information... He’d need to get to higher ground to see anything, but he’d need to risk being seen. But then again the risk was a portion of the fun. Virgil’s eyes flickered to his skills list, his mind already running through the combinations he knew. This was the true fun of Swords. To a new player a single skill was simply that. To a veteran its a building block, a string meant to be interwoven in an unseen pattern with others to create even better ones. The combinations were near limitless overall, and every pattern held potential. But even with so many patterns only five patterns could be saved to be used a single click before the level cap. Others would take long casting time purely based on the abilities of the player.

The skills, the skills, the skills.

Virgil could and had gone on and on explaining to friends the combinations he had found and written down, and he could go on about theories he had for new ones. But this mission wasn’t the time. It wasn’t the time to think about improving his skills to get what he needed, right now he had a single saved skill, which would be useful in this situation, Silent Presence. A sneaking and cloaking skill which would keep him hidden for five seconds before a cool down too long to let him use it again if needed. Virgil took a deep breath and poised his fingers on his mouse and keyboard. He’d run, look for higher ground while looking out for any possible grabs, use his skill and then steal the best thing he could.

He took a deep breath and then he was going. He ran out amongst the masses fighting, dodging them as he went. If anyone noticed him, they didn't say anything or try to fight him, most likely assuming he was a mercenary. He moved quickly spotting a higher bit of a crumbling wall, a few feet higher than the rest and everyone’s heads- perfect. He gave another deep breath, and then charged the wall. He jumped up to another crumbling piece and then double jumped up to the top ensuring he used Silent Presence as he did.

Virgil bit his tongue as his eyes scanned the screen and zeroed in on where a few of the The Silver Green Sharks and a Zona regime commander surrounded, and she was failing to fight back. But regardless of who would win, there would be some nice drops. The only problem was that he wasn’t sure how much longer that fight would last, but with Silent Presence ending he had no choice but to move and hope for the best. He hopped down and started running going wide to see the fight going on his left. But as he went Virgil’s gaze couldn't help but slip to his timer and he bit his tongue noticing how much was left, three minutes. Maybe he’d go a few minutes past, he’d just need to get a good drop to make it worth it.

The Silver Green Sharks had forced the Zora Regime’s commander back away from her troops. There were three of them, surrounding her, forcing her to back up as they attacked him from long and short range with all the skills in their arsenal. From his angle none of them looked particularly impressive by Virgil’s standards, but it didn't matter. She was failing to fight back despite the impressive looking sword in her hand (a high level one no doubt given the Zora Regime’s status), so her HP wouldn’t last much longer. And that meant Virgil needed to move faster. He glanced at his remaining skills debating if he should save his Speed Sprint for before or after this grab. But looking at how badly this commander was doing he didn’t have much of a choice. He charged forward watching as the commander fell and the Silver Green Sharks began to jump for joy. Virgil didn't waste time jumping with them. He used the last of his speed burst to run up to the dead character.

The sound of his timer pierced his psyche and Virgil’s fingers slipped causing his character to stumble, but he tried to regain his momentum as he reached the fallen commander. The moment his hand was on the sword he wasn’t even sure if anyone was following him but he didn’t bother to check as he continued to run as fast as he could. He gritted his teeth as he ignored the sound of the timer ringing loudly in his ears, he couldn't think about that right now. Right now he needed to focus on the game. So in case of pursuers, he switched the sword strapped to his back, for the higher level one he had stolen. He had never been good enough with long distance weapons to rely on them. He could only rely on how fast he could run. He ran for the outer edge of the Ruins where he could dive into the forest. His fingers were flying across the keyboard queuing up a teleport crystal. For a moment he thought he was free-

“Turn the thing off!” Jonas shouted at him.

Virgil grimaced but didn’t bother responding as enemies began to come his way. He gave a swallow, eyes scanning the map for an escape as he tried to ignore Jonas’ bitching in the background. Damn he should’ve saved the fucking sprint.

The cliff. It was a gamble but if he managed to get the edge, maybe they would slow down enough rather than push him off the edge. He just needed enough time to plug in the coordinates to the crystal. That would only take what? Four seconds? Could he buy himself that much-

“Virgil!”

“Shut up.” He returned, or was he directing it at the shouting voices in his headphones. Quite frankly he didn’t care. They were gaining on him, but as he reached the edge his character skidded to a stop. The enemies behind him didn't close in but they were too close for comfort. If they shot an arrow he was dead. Virgil gave a swallow as he finished typing in the last of the coordinates a risky plan before him.

“Virgil!”

He jumped from the cliff and hit teleport at once, and as he began to teleport he felt an overwhelming amount of relief. He couldn't help but smile as Jonas snatched his phone away, nor did he care about the angered shouts in his headphones.

And then came the deafening static.

It was sudden- it was loud- it was piercing and Virgil let out an involuntary scream of pain. He reached to rip off his headphones only to feel his body crash to the ground as his vision flickered. Until he was left completely alone in the darkness.

A groan escaped Virgil’s lips as he pushed himself to his knees. He rubbed at his closed eyes wondering how the hell he had managed to take such a hard fall from his chair before he opened them.

He was greeted with the sight of grass. Grass and trees.

Virgil gave a swallow as he pulled himself to his feet trying to annoy the way his heart had leaped into his throat which was already constricting itself. He tried to force down his panic and the rising bile- he tried to breathe - but his gaze was focused on the sign.

On the sign he had once helped put in this exact spot. But that didn’t make sense, that spot- this spot- that sign- was at the fork leading to the tavern- to a place that doesn’t really exist...

At least, not outside of the game.

~~~~

Level One - Level Two