*slamming against the ground in a superhero landing* Cease this fruitless battle!
Damn it, Kenneth Branagh, we don't have time for this.
Silence, Anthony! I have had a terrible vision of the future if your bickering continues, and I must put an end to it!
Do we all die?
Nay! But the fandom is forever torn apart in equally futile battle about who was right, entirely missing the ambiguous nature the brothers of Russo strove for! Friends are unfollowed! Anon hate is sent!
Yeah, I can't raise my kids in a world like that.
What do they say of me in this future?
That you are more beautiful and worthy than even the gods of Asgard. But that is beside the point! My brethren, I have come to stop these childish displays!
Great. Fabio's gonna lead us. Well, just go ahead and tell Steve that he's only making the legal repercussions worse, and I'll-
We don't have time for this! The doctor's on his way to find five more winter soldiers, and -
*picking them both up by the scruff of the neck* Enough! I have sent Lady Sif and the Warriors Three after the man you seek, Steven. And now we shall sit down and negotiate rationally. Or I shall make the pair of you sit in the corner until you are ready to act as grown men should.
Can you do that anyway? That would be hilarious.
❝Please don’t act like you actually give a damn❞ Kenneth had taken his sixth beer and was now laying lightly over the table, looking at the people as they walked around so excited for the festival, holding hands, seeming happy, feeling he couldn’t have that no matter how hard he’d try ❝Just leave me here to get a stroke or s’mething❞.