“In fact, during the audition with Chris Evans, the script says, “Spidey flips into scene,” and Tom goes, “Oh, should I do that?” Evans is like, [sarcastically] “Oh, yeah. Yeah, you just flip into the scene kid. No, you just walk in.” He does it. A standing flip, jump, flip, land. Even Chris Evans was like, “What…what happened?” – Kevin Feige, producer and President of Marvel
You hire Spider-Man and you fucking got Spider-Man.
Chris’s face just says “why is there a child in pyjamas cartwheeling towards me”
Peter Parker: -on meeting Loki, offers his hand- Hi, I’m Peter!
Loki: -shakes his hand- Loki of Asgard.
Peter: Aren’t you like…a bad guy?
Loki: It varies from moment to moment.
Peter: So like…on a scale of one to ten, ten being the worst evil imaginable, like…killing puppies, and one being I’ll spit on your hotdog…where are you right now?
Loki: …maybe a three?
Peter: Cool. Lemme know if it gets above a six.
Loki: -thinking- I like him.
It had been a joke, a flippant line, but somehow, Loki found himself taking the youth up on it.
It was hard living around these heroic Avengers, hard trying to stay close to Thor. And when he felt his need for mischief rise too high, when he felt exasperation with these Midgardians turn too close to spite, he would casually say “Six.” to the young man, or sometimes “Seven.”
And Peter would spend the rest of his day with Loki. He would badger him with questions about magic, or drag him across his beloved city to see its entertainments, or take him along stopping petty crimes. He grounded Loki to the here and now, and distracted him from the churning, jagged shards of ice in his mind.
WE NEED LOKI AND PETER FICS
Yeah, the people who write the comics agree with you
imagine if someone really pissed Loki off and he turns to Peter and just “IT’s A TEN, CHILD”
Peter: OH SHIT. EVERYBODY EVACUATE THE CIVILIANS
@shesellsseagulls I know this isn’t your normal shtick, but IMAGINE!
ANYTHING with peter is 100% my shtick and I am HERE FOR THIS.
I’m gonna write this. Just give me a bit.
Okay its short and probably really shit, but here we go.
“Hi, I’m Peter.” Loki stares in brief shock at the boy smiling up at him and waiting for his outstretched hand to be shook. People didn’t usually react well to meeting him.
“Loki of Asgard,” Loki answered politely, shaking Peter’s hand.
“Aren’t you like… a bad guy?” Peter asked with such wide, innocent eyes that Loki felt an urge to run away before he ruined that innocence as he had done with so many other things.
“It varies from moment to moment.” Loki tried to act disinterested, but he was worried that his expression may be mirroring Peter’s.
“So like… on a scale of one to ten, ten being the worst evil imaginable, like… killing puppies, and one being I’ll spit on your hotdog… where are you right now?”
“Maybe a three.” Thor was staring at them, and Loki didn’t have to look to know that his brother was grinning at how well the introduction was going.
“Cool,” Peter smiled brightly. “Let me know if it gets above a six.”
Loki nodded slightly and stared in absolute amazement at this child who handled meeting a villain so well. I like him, the god thought quietly.
It had obviously been a joke, but Loki had found himself saying a number every time he saw Peter. Whenever it was above a six, Peter would drop everything and just spend the rest of the day hanging out with Loki. It usually wasn’t more than a seven, and Peter was always worried about what would happen if it got to a ten. So far, he had been lucky, but one day that luck would run out.
They were at a coffee shop, waiting quietly to order their treats and go, causing absolutely no problems. When they got to the counter, though, the guy took Peter’s order and refused to acknowledge Loki’s presence.
“Excuse me,” Loki said quietly, trying to get the man’s attention.
“Sorry, we don’t serve evil here.”
“Well then, it’s a good thing I’m not ordering any. I’d just like a chai latte, please.” Loki resisted the urge to glare at the man, choosing to smile politely instead.
“What, are you gonna kill me if I don’t serve you?” The man laughed and turned around to continue making Peter’s coffee.
“No, but I would like to speak with whomever is in charge here.” Loki gritted his teeth and tried to stay calm.
“Oh, you wanna talk to my manager?” The guy laughed again. “Why don’t you just leave, asshole?”
Loki took a slow breathe through his nose, and slammed his fist down on the counter. He turned to Peter, shouting, “IT’S A TEN, CHILD!”
Peter, not knowing what to do, launched himself onto Loki, and started dragging him away before he hurt someone.
“You don’t have to go, kid. You didn’t do anything wrong.” The guys smiled as if nothing had happened, and offered Peter his coffee.
“Hey, you’re being a dick to my friend. I don’t want to stay here. You can’t just treat people like that!” Loki grabbed Peter’s arm and tried to get him to keep walking before they got into trouble. “He hasn’t done anything wrong in years! What gives you the right to act like you’re so much better than him? He made a mistake. Have you never made a mistake before?”
Peter shot a web at a blender behind the man without thinking, and he pulled it forward, hitting him in the back of the head. Someone screamed, and Loki started laughing hysterically and pulled on Peter’s arm.
“You’re going to get us in trouble,” Loki shouted over the other people’s yelling.
Too late, thought Peter when the sound of police sirens brought him back to reality.
He paled and yelled, “Shit!” Loki wrapped his arms around Peter and teleported them back to the Avengers tower. Peter glanced around in shock, having forgotten that Loki can teleport.
“We’re in so much trouble,” he groaned, giving up on life and dropping his head against Loki’s chest. Loki, not really knowing what to do, continued to hug Peter.
“I’ll say I did it,” Loki decided. Before Peter could protest, he added, “They’d expect if from me.”
Peter stepped back to look up at Loki. “Fine, but if they try to actually do anything about it, I’m telling Mr Stark what really happened.”
Loki’s heart melted, and he couldn’t help but smile. Loki’s hand moved to cup Peter’s cheek for a moment. “You’re such a sweet child.” He hugged Peter briefly before saying, “You should probably go establish an alibi.” Peter nodded and ran off, leaving Loki to think about how great his friend is.
from an askReddit thread about wildest shit you’ve seen at parties
one time I walk in to the kitchen at a house party and I see the other two members of my comedy troupe in there, staring at a pint glass. The host had prepared for the party by purchasing three or four handles of cheap ass vodka, and two of them are on the counter. This pint glass is all the way full. A couple drunk guys walk in behind me and one of my buddies says to the other… “Dude. Don’t do it.” And our friend, a guy built like a spaghetti noodle, stares down at this overflowing pint glass and says “I know, I know… but I think I’m going to” “Don’t do it, man; you know how much a pint is?” “Yeah and… I don’t know, I just really want to drink the whole thing”
A crowd starts to gather. Two opinions are emerging and people are picking sides. Opinion A is that it is too much and unsafe and a dumb idea and he shouldn’t do it. This seems to prod more people into joining Opinion B which is “will you do it if I add this $5 to the money on the counter?”
Meanwhile my buddies are ignoring the arguing, the yelling, the growing pile of money… The two of them have spent the whole time lost deep in a private exploration of the pros and cons of drinking this pint all in one go.
“I don’t even think it’s humanly possible, dude” “no, dude, I can do this, you have to believe in me” “like, I want to support you, you’re amazing, but this is too much” “no way, I’m positive I can do it. I’ll be fine. And you’re here if anything goes wrong” “Yeah” “I’m gonna do it!” and he picks up the pint, barely sloshing any of his clear liquid opponent over the brim.
Opinion B is cheering. Opinion A ranges from silently disapproving to not-so-secretly pleased. As he starts to drink a hush falls. A soft chant starts, a drunk and simple “go, Go, GO” that rises with each gulp. He’s clearly struggling now, but just as clearly determined. Actual tears are standing out at the corners of his eyes, but he tilts the glass up and finishes the last drop, letting out a loud sound, half gasp of triumph, half cry of pain. He falls backward against the cupboards below the sink, legs sprawled in front of him.
The crowd goes wild. People are losing. their. shit. They’re hugging each other and laughing. My other buddy reaches down and helps our friend to his feet. He puts his hands on the counter and leans, head hanging low. Someone bangs him on the back and he waves them away.
Then. He raises his hand. His head slowly comes up as everyone quiets down, watching. He looks around and he goes “I think… *belch* I think… I want another one.”
W H A T T T? The crowd loses it again – What a CHAMP! Can you BELIEVE it?! Opinion A is f r e a k i n g out. People are literally jumping up and down.
“ I AM!” he yells over the pandemonium, “I AM GOING TO DO THE EXACT SAME THING, AGAIN!” and with that he turns around and fills the pint glass from the kitchen faucet.
He drinks the second glass in a room perfectly filled with confused silence. It isn’t until he slams the glass down and picks up the money that it fast forwards into extreme outrage. My two friends run. The kitchen empties after them like pellets from a shotgun.
They had to throw the money in the air in the front yard to get away.
A Pennsylvania museum has solved the mystery of a Renaissance portrait in an investigation that spans hundreds of years, layers of paint and the murdered daughter of an Italian duke.
Among the works featured in the Carnegie Museum’s exhibit Faked, Forgotten, Found is a portrait of Isabella de’Medici, the spirited favorite daughter of Cosimo de’Medici, the first Grand Duke of Florence, whose face hadn’t seen the light of day in almost 200 years.
Isabella Medici’s strong nose, steely stare and high forehead plucked of hair, as was the fashion in 1570, was hidden beneath layers of paint applied by a Victorian artist to render the work more saleable to a 19th century buyer.
The result was a pretty, bland face with rosy cheeks and gently smiling lips that Louise Lippincott, curator of fine arts at the museum, thought was a possible fake.
Before deciding to deaccession the work, Lippincott brought the painting, which was purportedly of Eleanor of Toledo, a famed beauty and the mother of Isabella de’Medici, to the Pittsburgh museum’s conservator Ellen Baxter to confirm her suspicions.
Baxter was immediately intrigued. The woman’s clothing was spot-on, with its high lace collar and richly patterned bodice, but her face was all wrong, ‘like a Victorian cookie tin box lid,’ Baxter told Carnegie Magazine.
After finding the stamp of Francis Needham on the back of the work, Baxter did some research and found that Needham worked in National Portrait Gallery in London in the mid-1800s transferring paintings from wood panels to canvas mounts.
Paintings on canvas usually have large cracks, but the ones on the Eleanor of Toledo portrait were much smaller than would be expected.
Baxter devised a theory that the work had been transferred from a wood panel onto canvas and then repainted so that the woman’s face was more pleasing to the Victorian art-buyer, some 300 years after it had been painted.
Christ men have been Photoshopping women to make us more “pleasing” since for-fucking-ever.
Also, Isabella de’Medici is nice looking, but also has that look in her eye of all Medicis: “I haven’t yet decided whether I’m going to kick your ass, buy you and everything you own, or have sex with you. Perhaps all three.”
Carnegie Museum! 😀 That’s right downtown. You rock, Ellen Baxter!
There’s an excellent video about the restoration and you can hear the disdain for the cover up dripping from the conservators words.
