#i really love the pie chart it is so Stark

[transformativeworks]

Have you ever been to a fan convention (of any kind)?

Have you looked at the Survey Report yet??

We asked where y'all spend your fannish time, and how could any fannish conversation ignore the draw of The Conventions?

Q10: Have you ever been to a fan convention (of any kind)? ● 68,855 survey takers received this question. ● 68,807 answered it Yes 28,505 - 41.43% No 40,302 - 58.57%

What about you, tumblr?

If you have, shout out in the comments and maybe we can get more OTW tables at more conventions!

[ohblackdiamond]

the end of the world tour (kiss/endgame crossover, r) (part 4/5)

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4

In this chapter: Final preparations for visiting Tony Stark, including, in order of importance, paying up to find his location, deciding how to state their case, and determining what outfits to wear.

Or, four washed-up former rockstar superheroes don the spandex of old in a last-ditch effort to save an already half-gone world. They just need a little support from a billionaire who’s not too keen on KISS interrupting his private life. Somewhat Endgame compliant.

“Do you think we’re ready now?”

Paul said it out of nowhere, while they were all lounging in front of the T.V. Well, Gene had his ipad out, if only to fact-check the cast list for the horror movie onscreen. None of them were watching it. Ace had been shuffling in and out of the living room, bringing in popcorn and soda refills, looking a little antsy, but now he was sitting next to Peter, arm draped nonchalantly around his shoulders, feet propped up on a leather ottoman. On the couch opposite theirs, Paul was laying on his back, one ankle resting on his raised knee, occasionally reaching for the popcorn bowl on the floor, with Gene occupying what little room remained. It was comfortable, quiet. It reminded Peter of the rare times on tour that they’d have more than two days off in a row. No, better than that. Serene.

But with that single question, the serenity crumbled. Three pairs of bleary brown eyes were on Paul in an instant. Naturally, Paul started to hesitate, pulling both his knees up.

“I mean, really. We got all our powers back. What do we have left to work on?”

“Besides finding Stark’s location?” Gene set the ipad on the floor. “That’s it.”

“And that shouldn’t take more than a day or two.”

“And about a million dollars,” Gene said dryly. “The man’s wiped himself off the map.”

“So we pay it, that’s fine.” That mild anxiousness was beginning to sink into Paul’s expression. Any minute and he’d be shifting around in his seat like a twitchy grammar school kid. Peter watched, too used to it to feel more than mildly vindicated, as Paul moved to lay on his side, knees still bent. Gene hadn’t yet taken advantage of the extra legroom. “But other than that, we’re done. I don’t know about you guys, but I’m not counting on us, I dunno, waking up faster than a speeding bullet if we do a few more pushups.”

 Ace stuffed a handful of popcorn in his mouth before responding.

“We’ve got to chart it out.”

“Chart it out?” Peter echoed. “What, are we sailing?”

“Astrology charts.” Ace took a large gulp of Pepsi. “Figure out what day’s best—I looked into it a little bit, I think the 27th would be good…”

“Are you serious, Ace? Just because that’s your lucky number doesn’t mean there’ll be any difference—” Gene started.

“It’s not just that! I checked all our horoscopes and that’s the only day that’s gonna be positive for all of us at once!” Ace looked aggrieved, stuffing another handful of popcorn in his mouth, chewing as he spoke. “I couldn’t get it positive with Stark, too, so that was the best I could—”

“What sign is he?” Paul asked, distractedly.

“Gemini. Totally incompatible.”

Paul exhaled, brow furrowed. Gene just rolled his eyes. Peter looked over at Ace, for once unsure on whether or not to back him, or if it mattered.

“That’d give us two weeks,” Peter said finally, shrugging. It was probably the most neutral statement he’d made in awhile. Gene shot him a mildly aggrieved look. “It’s fine as long as nobody chickens out and keeps trying to put it off.”

“Nobody’s gonna chicken out, Pete, don’t you worry.” Ace was nodding as he spoke. “I’m gonna check with my tarot reader tomorrow, too, just to make sure.”

“You still go see her?”

“Well, yeah. Though sometimes I’m starting to wonder.”

“What, if she’s stealing your money?”

“No, no, I just think her clairvoyance is getting cataracts or some shit.” Ace shrugged. “She said we were gonna tour again.”

Gene started to laugh. An utterly disgusted look crossed Paul’s face before he pressed half of it against the armrest.

“You’re kidding.”

“I’m not kidding! Not in so many words, but she said something about change and great spectacles and crowds, so—”

“The only way I’m going back on tour is if we get sued,” Paul said flatly.

Ace hesitated.

“About that, Paulie…”

God. Peter knew exactly what was next. A whole half-hour round of rambling and shooting the shit, and by the time they all realized how far off-course they’d gotten, no one would even be in the mood to discuss their meeting with Stark. Ace’s ability to delay and distract had gotten way too much practice over the last five years. Luckily, Gene was immune.

“We’ve got other logistics to deal with here,” he said, a little curtly.

“Like what? This ain’t a gig—”

“Are you kidding? Ace, this might be the biggest gig of our lives.” Gene’s voice was as quiet and intense as usual. To Peter, it was a relief. “If Stark knows what really happened—”

“There’s no way that bastard doesn’t. You don’t make that kind of money without your fingers in everybody’s pie,” Peter interrupted. “We’ve been over this.”

“It’s not all about the money. It’s the type of superhero work he did.” Paul had raised his face from the armrest, finally. “I mean, the Avengers were dealing with threats from alien planets. That’s more than we ever did.”

“You think what happened five years ago is on account of aliens, Paul?”

Paul shrugged as much as he could while lying on the couch.

“You piss off a lot of people crimefighting.”

“Like Devereaux.” Peter snorted at the memory, but he kept going. “The guy gets fired and then he decides to make fucking robots of us to destroy the whole amusement park. And we didn’t have anything to do with it!”

“We did a concert at the park,” Paul said dryly.

“But it wasn’t our fault he got canned!”

“Well, no, but…” Gene said, before clearing his throat. He grabbed the remote, turning off the television. “We’re not getting anything done talking about Devereaux. We need to be talking about how to approach Stark.”

“Easy. With an ultimatum,” Ace tried to deadpan, only to ruin it with a laugh.

“With a plan.”

“Okay, okay. First off, what outfits? We’ve gotta coordinate.” Paul, unsurprisingly. Peter could’ve practically done a timeline of Paul’s recovery over the last five years by how much interest he showed in what he looked like. The first morning Paul had come downstairs for breakfast both shaved and dressed in something that wasn’t pajama bottoms or jeans was the morning Peter knew he wouldn’t be stuck living with a corpse that vaguely resembled KISS’ frontman.

“I dunno. Whatever we go with, I’ll still be sweating,” Ace said. “None of them are comfortable.”

“Mine are comfortable—”

“That’s ’cause yours don’t usually have a top, Paul.”

“We could do suits,” Gene offered halfheartedly. Despite his earlier complaint, Ace looked mildly appalled at the suggestion.

“No suits. I dunno if Stark’s old enough to remember the Dressed to Kill album cover,” Ace said. “He’ll think we’re trying to negotiate a business deal.”

“We are.”

“Y’know what I mean, Gene. No go.”

“Then what tour?”

“Anything but Dynasty. I’m not dragging around that green fucking shag carpet again,” Peter said.

“I loved Dynasty. We were wearing actual colors.”

“Black and silver are actual colors, Paul.”

“What about Love Gun? Fairly easy outfits to move around in, cohesive… lots of nostalgia for a Generation Xer like Stark…” Gene trailed. Ace nodded.

“I like it. Yeah.”

--

The next day, Gene made about a dozen calls and moved half a million dollars out of a Swiss bank, while Paul got out his checkbook, looking markedly less blasé about shelling out the money than he had when it was only a point of discussion. Peter was determined not to let the hangdog expressions on both their faces compel him to donate (“the man’s location ain’t worth forty bucks, and you know it”), but Ace, yanking out his own wallet with the affability of an old gambler, shamed him into it with a single sentence.

“It’s only paper, Cat.”

So half an hour later, once Ace had wandered off for his tarot reading appointment, Peter wrote out a check for thirty grand. Every step towards Gene’s office—really just a rolltop desk and a rolly chair conveniently parked outside the kitchen—felt like slogging around in mud. The last time he’d given Gene any money, he—no, wait, he’d never given Gene any money. Unless he counted licensing. He was trying not to count licensing.

As soon as Peter walked in, Gene spun around in his chair to face him. Peter held up the check, feeling like he was fleecing himself out of part of his own retirement. That old glint in Gene’s eye was there almost immediately, and he didn’t hesitate, taking the check as soon as Peter offered it.

“Is that a reimbursement?”

“It’s a payment, asshole. Don’t make me change my mind.”

“You didn’t make it out to anyone.”

Peter snatched the check back and wrote “Gene Simmons” in capital letters across the for line.

“There. Just put it towards finding that bastard, that’s all I care about.” He paused. “How much did Ace give you?”

“More than you did.”

Peter groaned.

“And you let him? Gene, you know he blew all his Reunion money as soon as he made it—and he never did earn that much off his solo albums. Don’t let him bullshit you, he ain’t got more than a million, I’d be surprised if he’s got half that—”

“He wanted to help out.”

“Don’t bankrupt him over this shit, Gene.”

“I’m putting half of it back in his account.” A pause. “But—now correct me if I’m wrong, Pete, but you’re a little more, ah, fiscally responsible, on average—”

“If you put half mine back, I’m moving out. I’m serious. I’m not having you and Paul hang who paid what over my head if this works.”

“All right, fine, fine.” Gene folded the check and stuck it in his pocket.

“I mean it, Gene, I watch my bank account.”

“Spoken like a true divorcé,” Paul called out from the kitchen. The usual tinny crack to his voice when he spoke much above normal volume wasn’t there yet. Peter scowled.

“I didn’t spend half as much on either of mine as you did—"

“I told you both to do prenups,” Gene interrupted. Peter shot him a put-out look, while Paul kept yelling out from the kitchen.

“I tried! Pam started crying when I suggested it!”

“Yeah, that should’ve been your first indication.” Gene was biting back a laugh. Peter elbowed him. “Anyway, I’ll go get everybody’s checks deposited and—”

“You can do that online,” Paul said, only half-audible over the sound of the egg beaters. Whatever he was in the process of baking, Peter didn’t hold too much hope for.

“What?”

“Just take a couple pictures of the checks and you can do it online.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. You don’t gotta go over there anymore.”

Gene looked at Peter. Peter shrugged.

“First I’ve heard of it. I dunno.”

“Huh.” Gene’s forehead furrowed, and he called back out to Paul. “Front and back of the check?”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t really trust that,” Peter mumbled, watching as Gene took the checks out of his pocket, spreading them on the desk (Peter noted, almost wryly, that Paul had failed to add the obligatory star to his signature. Ace, though, had doodled his usual card, strange as it looked next to “Paul Frehley”) before pulling his phone out. “I bet nobody’s looking at the damn pictures.”

“Hang on.” Gene’s lips were pursed in concentration. “Shit, I forgot my password.”

The din of the eggbeaters ceased, a put-out sigh coming from the kitchen. A few seconds later and Paul was in the office with them, leaning over Gene’s phone.

“Which account is it again?”

“The, uh, local one.”

Another sigh. Paul typed something in and handed the phone back.

“There. You’re in now.”

“Thanks.” Gene fidgeted, smoothing out the checks again before starting to take the pictures. Peter stared at both of them.

“You’ve got the passwords to his bank accounts.”

“Well, yeah, he never remembers.”

“Are you sure you’re not married?”

Gene’s head shot up immediately, caught expression written all over his face. Paul gave Peter that wide-eyed, innocently baffled stare that had stopped being attractive somewhere around the second term of the Clinton administration. Only it quit being baffled and sunk right over to embarrassed within half a second, Paul’s gaze drooping to the desk. Peter ignored the hint and kept staring.

“Well?”

“I’ve got to check on that meringue,” Paul said suddenly, and slunk out of the room.

--

Two hours and three-quarters of a million dollars later, Gene had Tony Stark’s location pinpointed, coordinate by exhausting coordinate. Ace confirmed, once they’d punched those coordinates into google maps, that he could teleport them there, no problem. Pretty disgusting, really. It turned out that the guy hadn’t even left New York.

Ace also confirmed that his tarot reader had told him the 27th was a perfectly viable day for any and all world-saving plans. Not a surprise. Even if Ace wasn’t much more than a millionaire, if that, Peter figured she was still probably getting paid way too much to argue him over dates.

And so that was it. That was really it. The last real chink in their plan, resolved. All over but the enacting. Sitting around the kitchen, eating the chocolate pie Paul had whipped up earlier (he’d overbeat the meringue on top), it felt—weird. Back on the precipice of something grand and great and terrifying. Just spinning their wheels. Just waiting.

Gene reached for another piece of chocolate pie. Paul leaned over and cut it for him, neatly setting it on his plate.

“Thirteen days, boys,” Gene said through a mouthful of meringue. “Thirteen days and we’ll save the world.”

“Hopefully,” Paul corrected.

“No hopefully. We’ll save it.” Gene’s self-assurance was usually more frustrating than bolstering. But right now, Peter appreciated it. “We’re in the best shape we’ve ever been in—”

Beside Peter, Ace burst into laughter.

“Well, I mean, in costume—in costume we’re untouchable,” Gene corrected. “Stark’s an intelligent man. He’ll recognize what an asset we are.”

“Gene, saying Stark’s an intelligent man is like saying Genghis Khan was a pretty good warlord.” Paul shifted, and Peter watched, mildly surprised, as he got another piece of pie for himself. Usually, the guy ate less the more stressed he was. “But I don’t think it’s gonna be a problem getting him on our side.”

Peter felt himself nod.

“We got a lot going for us.”

“We need to talk approach, though.” Gene looked pensive. Peter tilted his head. Across from him, Paul mumbled “oh, boy” under his breath. “No, I’m serious. Coming to his house in costume is ballsy, but the message is what’ll really get us in.”

“What do you wanna do, Geno? Ask him whose dick you have to suck to get in on the world-saving gig?” Ace asked blithely.

“I can’t believe you remember me saying that,” Gene said.

“I don’t. But I had to do research for my memoir.” The corners of Ace’s mouth tilted up. “I get that it’s serious, but—”

“It is serious. That’s why I need to do the talking.”

“Oh, come the hell on, Gene—”

“Paul, I’ve met him. I’ve had dinner with him. I think that’ll give us some extra leverage—”

“What, you think the rest of us are just gonna make asses of ourselves?”

“Absolutely.”

“Gene!”

“Paul, c’mon. You’ll be snotty, Pete’ll get pissed, and Ace’ll tell him about Jendell. You all need to leave the talking to me.”

“Yeah, that’s not gonna happen.” Peter said it before Paul could. He could feel Paul’s glance on him, approving for the first time in years. Ace’s, too. “We’re not going to be sitting on our asses while you try to schmooze up Stark.”

“Then—”

“I think we’ve got to just be honest with him,” Ace said. “We don’t need to bust out the resume. ’S not big enough to be all that impressive anyway. Just tell him we wanna help.”

“You think it’s that simple?”

“Yeah, I think it’s that simple.” Ace was tugging his fork along his plate, scraping up the tiniest remnants of his piece of chocolate pie. Peter, sighing, cut another piece for him, dropping it on his plate. “The Avengers don’t get a lot of volunteers.”

“Do you think we ought to…” Paul trailed, wiping off his mouth as he spoke. “Try an emotional appeal. Would that work on him?”

“Would it work on you?” Gene asked.

“If Tony had tits, it would.”

“Then that’s a no.”

“Hold on. What kind of emotional appeal are you talking, Paul?” Peter asked.

Paul looked a little surprised Peter was pushing for more when Gene had just shut him down.

“Like Ace said, be honest. Tell him we lost out on everything. We could even tell him about our work with FER.”

Peter barely managed not to roll his eyes at Paul qualifying those fifty-three pregnancies as work. Gene had finished his second piece of pie, and Paul was pushing what was left of his own towards him on automatic.

“The only trouble with that is, he’s heard it before,” Gene said. “He’s donated millions to the government to clean up after what happened. There’s probably thousands of charity organizations sending him orphans to sponsor.”

“But he hasn’t heard it from us.” Paul’s lips were slightly pursed. “You’re right, it may not make much of a difference. But Stark does know who we are.”

“Everyone knows who we are,” Gene countered.

“No, Gene, it—it means something to him. He’s just old enough that he remembers when we were superheroes.”

Peter wiped his mouth off with a napkin.

“Remember how they billed us, starting out?” Paul pushed.

“Sure,” Peter said. “The seventies’ answer to Captain America.”

“Then we ended up the Me Generation’s answer to Captain America,” Ace added dryly.

“And Stark’s old man was big buddies with—”

“Captain America.” Gene nodded, expression brightening. “He would’ve had to have been very well aware of us—”

“Exactly. Gene, did Stark ever tell you anything, when you met him? Did he say he’d been to KISS concerts?”

“I don’t remember. He might have.” Gene scooped up more of Paul’s piece of pie, taking a bite as he spoke. Same rotten table manners as ever, but Peter had long since stopped minding. “I’ve only seen him at a few functions. He never struck me as a fanboy.”

“That doesn’t mean he’s not one,” Paul countered. “There are a lot of fans out there still that don’t advertise it.”

“If it turns out Stark’s got a KISS cave in one of his mansions, I gotta say I ain’t buying the playboy bit out of him,” Ace said.

“I think he got married. But look, just—we’ve got to use whatever we can to our advantage. Even if we’re still playing on nostalgia.”

Peter nodded in agreement. Ace reached over, snagging the last piece of pie before Gene’s fork could reach it, and smiled.

--

Over the next twelve days, everyone was filled with nervous energy. It seemed to almost ping-pong back and forth between them, the bond getting strong enough that Peter was finally starting to distinguish between the rest of the guys’ feelings, instead of it all being an indiscernible lump of emotions. He’d never been great at it. Paul was easiest to tell apart from the rest, probably because he was so anxious naturally, ribbony swaths of mauve and purple in his mind’s eye. Gene and Ace were always a little less defined. Peter was worried about Ace in particular. The deep blue field of feelings, like an oddly starless sky, seemed—deeper, like there was something beneath the surface. He’d mentioned it a bit, late at night in bed, but Ace always brushed it off. Peter, figuring Ace was just afraid their discussion with Stark would all go wrong, hadn’t pushed him too hard about it. If he wanted to talk about it, he’d say so.

They had just finished one last workout and were lying around on the couches, transformed back to normal but still sweaty. Ace had gotten everyone water bottles from the fridge; Paul had deigned to pass out towels, and they’d all ended up pouring the water on the towels and wiping off their faces with it, too tired to bother with proper showers yet. Gene was self-assured to the point of cockiness, the red tendrils of emotion creeping into Peter’s subconscious like infiltrating vines.

“Almost there. Tomorrow’s the day.”

Paul, who had his legs propped on Gene’s lap on the couch, but still looked strained, nodded in assent.

“You nervous?”

“I’m dosing up on Xanax before we leave.”

“Paul, c’mon,” Gene said, and then he looked over at Peter and Ace. “You’re ready, aren’t you?”

“Ready as we’ll ever be,” Peter said dryly. Ace offered a thumbs-up.

“You’re killing me. Where’s Bill when you need him?” Gene shook his head. “Don’t be so damn worried about how things are gonna go. I can feel it from here.”

It was hard not to be worried. They hadn’t discussed what they’d do if Tony Stark turned them down, if there was no way they could fix their world. It had been easy to say they had nothing to lose when their powers had been in terrible shape and teaming up with the Avengers was just an idea to reach for. But now, powers restored, less than twenty-four hours from being face-to-face with Stark… it was different. It was wracking. And Gene was trying to take over the job of every manager they’d ever had, and pump them up like they were back on tour.

“C’mon, boys. The last thing that stopped KISS was a concept album.”

Ace’s mouth started to twitch up at his words. Noticing it, Gene shot him a broad smile and continued.

“We’ve talked what we’re gonna say and do tomorrow to death. Let’s look past that.”

“Look past that?” Peter repeated.

“Yeah. Let’s go around the room and talk about what we’ll do after.”

“Well, after we’ll either go home or end up in that Avengers tower,” Paul said dryly. Gene poked his leg.

“After we succeed, Paul. After we get him on our side and save the world. What’s next on our agenda?”

“I still gotta take you guys to Jendell,” Ace said.

“Yeah, but besides that. C’mon. True story time. Let’s all come out with it, all around the room.” Gene’s boisterousness was the exact opposite of infectious, each bandmate glancing nervously at the others, but he didn’t seem deterred. “Do I have any volunteers? Paul?”

“I, uh…”

“Go ahead. What’s the first thing you’re going to do after we save the world?”

“Probably have sex with my wife.”

Gene’s expression shifted into a wide grin.

“Me, too. Peter?”

“… Probably just kiss my wife.”

“Aw, Petey, just let Gigi touch your tits some and you’ll be able to get it back up—”

“Oh, shut up, Ace—”

“What’re you going to do, Ace? Rachael?”

“I dunno.” Ace was gnawing at his bottom lip, teeth sliding up and down the skin. “I think… I think I wanna try to patch things up with Jeanette.”

“Really?” Peter blinked. “You haven’t even lived together in at least twenty years.”

“I know. I know that. But we never got divorced. Her health’s been real bad, I didn’t wanna do that to her. And me and Rach… I dunno. Rach helped me get clean. Jeanette could’ve, too, if I’d let her.”

Peter didn’t know how to answer that. Oh, there were all the old sayings he half-remembered from his own rehab stint, how an addict, any addict, could have the best support team in the world behind him and it wouldn’t matter until he wanted to change, but none of that felt right. None of that felt meaningful.

“But you guys helped me stay that way,” Ace finished off. “So I guess on that basis if you wanna go all-in on a four way marriage, then—”

“No,” Gene said flatly. “One partner’s expensive enough.”

“Aww, been breaking my heart for over forty years, Geno,” Ace lilted, licking his lips, smirk spreading across his face. “’N’ I just keep coming back. Glutton for punishment, man. How the fuck do you do it?”

Gene just snorted, but he was starting to smile. Next to him, Paul shifted awkwardly.

“Don’t say it, Paulie. I know you’ve got the rings on backorder at Kay’s—”

“Kay’s? Don’t insult me like that!”

“Okay, okay, so you went to Tiffany’s. Get your lamps and your engagement rings at the same time, good deal.”

“Damn it, Ace, I just wanna—”

“I’m staying out of this,” Peter mumbled, starting to get up, only for Ace to grab him by the arm and tug him back to the couch, cackling.

“You’re way too late for that one, Cat. When was it, ’95…”

“I just wanted to ask if anyone wanted to jam downstairs!” Paul burst out.

“Jam?”

They hadn’t had a jam session since before Paul and Gene had gotten out the talismans for their ridiculous FER liaisons.

Peter remembered the first session they’d done. Maybe three, four months after moving into New Haven properly, after Gene had taken care of—or had someone else take care of—closing deals on all four of their houses. Moving everyone’s personal memorabilia, everything from gold and platinum albums to old costumes to stupid, useless shit like newspaper clippings and black-and-white passport photos, into storage units. Most of the stuff they’d wanted at home got boxed up and put either in the attic or downstairs, instruments included.

Peter had found himself in the basement, looking for something still in storage. An old corduroy coat of Lydia’s. One he’d about begged off her boyfriend a month or two after the blip. He knew he didn’t have a right to it forty years out, but he could smell the faint traces of her perfume on the fabric, could see that old greasepaint smear on the corner of one sleeve, from when she’d cupped his face in her hands for a kiss after a show. He’d been so desperate to grasp at anything of hers, any reminder she’d ever been real and ever been his. Gigi, too, only he had her things, almost twenty years’ worth. Her dress from their wedding, her name tattooed on his shoulder. He’d had nothing of Lydia’s.

He never found that coat again, no matter how much he searched the basement. Instead Peter had found Gene’s old bass, the one Gene had given him after he’d been fired from the band for the first time, that old memento. Even when he’d gotten down to his last few grand, back in the early nineties, he’d held onto that bass. It was out of tune now, badly, but Peter had kept strumming at it until he heard Ace wandering down the stairs, then watched him step into the basement. Ace hadn’t even blinked at the sight of Peter with the bass.

“You wanna play something?”

“No, it’s—”

“C’mon.”

And somehow they’d both lugged Peter’s old drumkit out of storage, and one of Ace’s Les Pauls, and before long they were playing again. Couldn’t do much with a two-piece band. Ace had gone all in on “Parasite;” Peter had started “Strange Ways,” and halfway through the chorus, Paul had come in. Peter had bristled, expecting Paul to tell them to can it, but Paul had just watched quietly, leaning against the door like he thought he still looked cool. Not realizing that he only looked like a little kid hoping he wouldn’t get picked last for baseball.

Ace had waved him over with a jerk of his thumb. Paul had dug around awhile in the storage room before picking out one of probably two or three guitars he had in there, tuning it, anxious look on his face. The three of them finished up on “Strange Ways,” and then Peter’s gaze had gone to Paul, waiting, out of long-ago habit, for the next suggestion. Paul took awhile to make one.

“‘Hard Luck Woman,’” Paul had said finally.

“You don’t wanna sing?” Peter had asked, unthinking. Paul looked away, and Ace just plowed into the intro in attempt to save Paul some face. But Peter didn’t pick up his sticks, deliberately missing his cue to sing.

“Pete, just go ahead, would you?” Paul had said, voice quiet. “Just go ahead. I want to hear you.”

“I wanna hear you.”

By the time Gene came downstairs, Ace and Peter had coaxed Paul into starting on the first verse of “Strutter,” each note weak but true. Gene hadn’t even hesitated, strapping on his bass like a minuteman attaching his bayonet, adding that last piece to their ensemble.

That night, they’d been tight. Tighter than they’d been in so many years, feeding off each other’s playing in—in almost a round. Not weaving in and out seamlessly like Keith Richards and Ronnie Wood—KISS just wasn’t that good, and never had been—but it felt better than comfortable. It felt fulfilling. Looking back, Peter realized that night had been the start of that old connection between the four of them beginning to mend.

That session had been the best by far. The jam sessions after were a mixed bag. Oh, they’d all start out well enough, charging through the old setlist staples like “Black Diamond” and “Detroit Rock City” at an insistent, heady pace, but then, inevitably, things would fall apart. Peter’s arms would go from just throbbing to straight-up murdering him, Ace’s encroaching deafness would get in the way of his ability to follow Peter’s tempo, and Paul’s voice would start cracking to the point he’d just quit singing entirely and glare at the others as if daring them to utter a single word.

Gene was the only one who didn’t really falter much—until they got to any actual jams, at least. Then he was dead in the water. If it hadn’t been on at least the last ten setlists, it wasn’t a song Gene actually remembered. Peter had found that out the hard way when he’d suggested a rendition of “Mainline,” only to garner a blank-faced Gene and an off-kilter but trying Ace and Paul for his troubles. The bassline not being the most important factor in that song didn’t ease Peter’s irritation any. Not given that Peter had done the lead vocals.

“Wait, you really want to jam, Paul?” Gene asked. He looked a little baffled. Paul would go along with jam sessions, but he’d never been the one to suggest them before. Too embarrassed about the state of his vocals. It was like the guy honestly expected to be made fun of. Maybe once, five years ago, Peter would have, seeing it as karma for how Paul had treated him during the Reunion. But not now. Not ever.

“Well, yeah. Get some of the nervous energy out before we go to Stark’s.” Paul shrugged. “Look, if you guys don’t want to, it’s fine, I just thought…”

“Let’s do it.” It was Ace, in all his weirdly lazy affability. But his eyes were bright and focused. “Dress rehearsal before the performance. It’s good luck.”

“It’s good luck to have a bad dress rehearsal, Ace,” Gene corrected, though he was nodding. “Pete, you want to?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m game.”

“Cool.” Paul visibly relaxed. The purple ribbons in the corner of Peter's mind seemed to lighten. Ease. “C’mon.”

[aegon]

wait wait wait did someone actually conclude that dany talking more means she’s controlling??? these people do NOT hide their misogyny

Oh dang, mate, you’re missing the analysis of a century!

It had everything! Pie charts! Diagrams! They even analysed every single word spoken separately to decide which could be deemed “hostile” and concluded that Dany was far more hostile towards Jon than Sansa was.

Ooo ooo wait, there was another part that was absolutely incredible. Dany talked more about herself than Sansa did, who talked more about Jon. Which meant that Dany cared more about herself than Jon, and Sansa cared more about Jon than herself. Political!Jon! Secret love affair of the Starks! More at 11, folks!

An exemplary analysis of the art of the spoken word. I was shook, and it is clear that Dany stans are too weak, too simple-minded to comprehend the raw intelligence of the author. GRRM knocked on their door and demanded them to burn their findings lest the world find out his secrets and be thrown into chaos by the holy relevations.

lmao it was so fucking messed up, and it deserves to be mocked for how despicable the conclusions were. It was written by a woman, someone twice the age of many on this site, and it’s a first-class example of the internal-misogyny and toxic femininity these extreme Sansa fans possess. Not to mention that the theory of political!Jon it was written for is by far one of the grossest bullshits ever imagined. Fuck anyone who remotely believed in that, they should have their feminist card revoked (not that any of them are really feminists anyway.)

Ignoring all that, it just literally made no sense lol

[lovemesomesurveys]

“ar_” ARB

Have you ever had strawberry rhubarb pie? Do you like it? It doesn’t sound appealing to me at all. Do you like carbs a little too much? Yeah. Last garb you wore? Like a dress? It’s been years since I’ve worn a dress. Do you know anyone named Barb? Nope.

ARC

Would you like to see the Arc de Triumphe? I actually wasn’t familiar with it until now. I’d love to go to Paris and I’d do all the touristy things and see the major monuments, so I’m sure that would be one of them. Are you a narc? No.

ARD

Have you ever read “The Tales of the Beetle and the Bard”? Nope. Do you have a credit or debit card? I have a debit and several credit cards. :X What’s the last card you received? For which holiday? For my birthday back in July. What’s something that is hard for you? Life? Do you ever feel like a tub of lard? I feel like a blob just lying around doing nothing each passing day. What is in your front yard? How is it landscaped? Nothing. It’s small. Last piece of meat that you’ve charred? I don’t cook. Have you ever lived with barred windows? No. Is it easy for you to let your guard down? No. Have you ever cut yourself on a shard of glass? Gah, yes. Not fun. Favorite barnyard animal? Horses. What do you like to do in your backyard? I don’t go back there. It’s honestly been years since the last time. What do you think of people who use the word “retard”? Ugh, it’s horrible. Get that word out of your vocabulary.  Last person you sent warm regards to? My Nana a couple days ago on her birthday. What do you tend to disregard? Myself in a lot of ways. Have you ever worn a leotard before? For what? Hmm, no I don’t think so.

ARF

Last time you barfed? It’s been a few years, but I get random waves of nausea and there’s times where I think I’m actually going to get sick, but then nothing happens. Yesterday I felt that way all day. Last food you scarfed down? When I had Wingstop a few days ago. Do you rock a fashion scarf? I don’t wear scarves. I don’t like things around my neck like that and besides, it really doesn’t get cold enough here for a scarf. What does your winter scarf look like? ^^^

ARK

What pair of animals would you like to bring on Noah’s ark? I’d like to be in charge of the dogs and giraffes. Did you used to watch Arthur the aardvark? Yesss, I loved Arthur. Have you ever been to a ballpark? Yes. Is your bark worse than your bite? I have no bark or bite haha. What’s a personal benchmark of yours? I’m not sure. Where is your birthmark? On my right elbow. Do you fold book pages over, or use a bookmark? I never fold over book pages, I use bookmarks.  Are you afraid of the dark? I don’t want to be in complete darkness. I sleep with my TV on for some light and sound. Do you prefer dark or light colors? Light, like pastels. Last time you disembarked a ship? When I went on the ship to get to Alcatraz like a decade ago. Last time you embarked on an adventure? It’s been a long time. Do you celebrate any of the hallmark holidays? Yeah, like mother’s and father’s day.  Do you watch the Hallmark channel? Yes, that’s the channel my TV is on currently. They air I Love Lucy and The Golden Girls all night, so I like to keep my TV on there. Do you like the song “Hark The Herald Angels Sing”? Yes. Which landmark would you like to visit? There’s numerous landmarks I’d love to visit. Last mark you made on a paper? I was taking notes for my Bible study. Do you know anyone named Mark? Yes. Have you ever heard a lark sing? No. Do you know how to parallel park? I don’t drive. What’s your favorite activity to do at the park? I don’t like going to the park. Last postmarked piece of mail you received? It was a package. Last person you left a remark for? Hmm. Do you speak with a lot of snark? No. I can be a little snippy and short when I’m in an extra moody mood, though. Last person you felt a spark with? Ty.  Do you ever have the Baby Shark song stuck in your head? I do now... thanks, Elisabeth. D; haha. Last time you went around your house stark naked? Never. What’s your signature trademark? Probably my red hair and black rimmed glasses. Does it bother you when there’s a watermark on an image that you want to use? It can be annoying.

ARL

Who did you snarl at last? lol I don’t snarl. Are your fingers gnarled? No.

ARM

Have you ever broken an arm? No. Do you keep people at an arm’s length? Now I do, except for my immediate family.  Last time you went to a farm? Years ago. Ty lived on a farm. Do you self-harm? No. I don’t take care of myself very well like I should, though, which could probably be considered a form of self-harm. What time is your alarm set for? I don’t have an alarm set. Do you own any firearms? No. Would you get a tattoo on your forearm? No. Do you have a certain charm about you? I don’t feel like I do. Do you need to be disarmed? No.

ARN

Were you raised in a barn? No. Do you use “damn” or “darn” more often? I use damn, darn, and dang pretty often. Do you knit or crochet with yarn? Nope.

ARP

Have you ever caught a carp while fishing? I only (briefly) went fishing once and I didn’t catch anything. Do you like harp seals? Aww, they’re cute. Would you like to learn how to play the harp? Nah. Name something in your house that is sharp? Knives.  Is anything you own covered by a tarp? No.

ART

Last time you fell apart? It’s been ongoing for years. Are you good at any sort of art forms? Uhh I can color? ha. Last place you used a shopping cart? I personally didn’t use it cause that would be hard for me to do, but I put stuff into the one my mom uses when we go shopping. I haven’t physically gone shopping or even gone into a store since March, though. Have you ever created a chart in Microsoft Excel? Yeah, many times in college. Who is your other counterpart? Hm. Do you like to play darts? No. Who’s the last person you departed from? Uhh, my doctor last month. How often do you fart? Uh, never? I don’t do that. lol. How’s your heart been feeling lately? It’s beating. Is there a K-Mart or a PetSmart where you live? Petsmart, yes. Our K-Marts closed many years ago. Is it easy for you to outsmart a child? Kids are really smart.  Where is the part in your hair? I part it on the left side. Have you ever gotten a part in a play? No. Last time you had to restart your computer? I don’t recall. Would you consider yourself to be smart? I feel like I’m just average. What trend would you like to start? I’m not a trendsetter. Do you like tarts? I like Poptarts.     

[a-zebra-is-a-striped-horse]

[purplesurveys]

942

“ar_”

ARB Have you ever had strawberry rhubarb pie? Do you like it? I have not. I’m afraid I don’t even entirely know what rhubarb is; I wouldn’t call it a part of Filipino culture. I don’t know if I would like this kind of pie; I prefer my pies more savory than fruity. Do you like carbs a little too much? Yes ma’am. I can’t exist without heaps of rice in every meal. Last garb you wore? The last fancy/formal thing I wore was my business casual look for last Thursday’s interview. I felt a little overdressed arriving at the office because the other applicants just wore a shirt and jeans...but ultimately I think it was better that I looked more prepared than they did lol. Do you know anyone named Barb? There’s a teacher in my old school named Barbie but the other teachers call her Barb. ARC Would you like to see the Arc de Triumphe? Sure.

Are you a narc? That’s not a common slang where I live, but I’m gonna say no. ARD Have you ever read “The Tales of the Beetle and the Bard”? Nope, I’ve never heard of it. Do you have a credit or debit card? Debit. I don’t exactly know how credit cards work just yet, so my dad has kept me from getting one hahahaha. What’s the last card you received? For which holiday? We don’t really exchange cards over here. We tend to go ahead and give physical gifts, no matter how simple it is. I think the last one I received was a birthday card from Athenna, five years ago. That was a different time. What’s something that is hard for you? Letting go. I have serious issues with abandonment and I always feel like it’s the end of the world when someone leaves my life or something I’ve been accustomed to abruptly ends. I’ve never been good at handling all of that. Do you ever feel like a tub of lard? I am almost positive that I’ve never felt like one before. What is in your front yard? How is it landscaped? Just a few plants and a tree that my grandpa planted for my mom shortly before he passed. Last piece of meat that you’ve charred? I’ll get back to this question in a few years where I’ve hopefully learned how to cook a few things, including meat. Have you ever lived with barred windows? No. That sounds awful. Is it easy for you to let your guard down? Just with the right people. Otherwise I prefer keeping a wall up; no one else needs to know who I am behind closed doors. Have you ever cut yourself on a shard of glass? No. Again, sounds like my worst nightmare. This happened to my mom a year ago and I remember being unable to help her because I would’ve proceeded to just faint anyway lmao Favorite barnyard animal? Cows. What do you like to do in your backyard? Cooper loves our backyard, so I bring him there to play and run. He loves staying there so much more than actually walking around the neighborhood, which is a little confusing but still endearing. What do you think of people who use the word “retard”? They’re stuck in the late 2000s and early 2010s and need to be schooled on Twitter as soon as possible lol. Last person you sent warm regards to? The HR person who hooked me up with my internship. What do you tend to disregard? Fake news or people who routinely share fake news, for obvious reasons. Have you ever worn a leotard before? For what? I’ve worn a swimsuit as a leotard, but I’ve never owned a leotard that was meant to be that.

ARF Last time you barfed? I kept hurling last week when I did a lot of crying and had a few breakdowns, but nothing ever came up. The last time I puked would be over a year ago when I was at Pop-Up with friends. Last food you scarfed down? My mom’s burger from last night. Do you rock a fashion scarf? Nah, not really my article of choice. What does your winter scarf look like? I don’t own one. ARK What pair of animals would you like to bring on Noah’s ark? I would try to save as many of them as possible; but in the cruel circumstance that I only have limited choices, I would prioritize stray cats and dogs first as well as cats and dogs in animal shelters. Did you used to watch Arthur the aardvark? I did not watch the show – I’m not sure if they ever aired it here – but I liked reading Arthur books. Those were one of my favorites to read at the library. Have you ever been to a ballpark? No. Well baseball is not a popular sport here so it’s not like we’ve got lots of those, and the few that we have are a little dilapidated due to a lack of interest or support in the sport...we do have a field in my old school that’s designated for our softball games, but it’s hardly a legit softball field. Is your bark worse than your bite? If this is a saying or slang, I don’t know what it means. What’s a personal benchmark of yours? Hmm I know what a benchmark refers to, but I’m not exactly sure of the context in this question. Where is your birthmark? My most distinguishable birthmark is on the upper left region of my back, but I also have one by my butt. I used to have one on my right arm that was green-blue when I was an infant, but now it’s nothing more than a super slight discoloration that is only noticeable if you look hard enough. Do you fold book pages over, or use a bookmark? I remember the page number. I don’t like the gaps that bookmarks create, and I like keeping the pages of my book pristine. Are you afraid of the dark? Only if the context is meant to be scary, like how abandoned houses or forests are dark. I like the dark when I’m trying to fall asleep though. Do you prefer dark or light colors? I prefer neither extreme. I like muted and pastel tones. Last time you disembarked a ship? 2016. Last time you embarked on an adventure? End of February, 2020. Do you celebrate any of the hallmark holidays? Some of them, but I take them seriously a lot less than the actual holidays. I celebrate them primarily because I have people in my life who value those Hallmark holidays, so I greet them so they don’t feel forgotten, like greeting my parents on Mother’s/Father’s Day. If I had it my way I’d ignore those holidays completely, though. Do you watch the Hallmark channel? No. I don’t think we even have that channel here. Do you like the song “Hark The Herald Angels Sing”? I have nothing against it. Which landmark would you like to visit? The pyramids at Giza. Last mark you made on a paper? I made random scribbles because I was just checking if my pen had ink. Do you know anyone named Mark? I don’t think so. No Marks are coming to mind. Have you ever heard a lark sing? Nope. Do you know how to parallel park? Yeah but I’m kind of cheating a bit because I own a really tiny car that fits nearly anywhere ha. What’s your favorite activity to do at the park? We don’t have any public parks...if we did, I imagine I’d have picnics and take my dogs there for long walks. Last postmarked piece of mail you received? I don’t really receive mail of my own. Last person you left a remark for? Idk maybe my dad when I remarked how spicy the sisig he made for dinner was. Do you speak with a lot of snark? Only in private or with my closest friends. I try not to be snarky with workmates. Do you ever have the Baby Shark song stuck in your head? That does happen sometimes, yes. Until today ha. Last time you went around your house stark naked? Oof, I never walk around the entire house naked. I only do so in the bathroom and within my own room. What’s your signature trademark? Everyone knows me as loving Paramore, so maybe that. Does it bother you when there’s a watermark on an image that you want to use? Sometimes yes, sometimes I realize someone took effort for that image and probably just needs to earn a little bit for it. ARL Who did you snarl at last? I don’t snarl a lot these days. Are your fingers gnarled? No. I don’t actually know what this means but my fingers are pretty healthy so I’m guessing it’s not whatever gnarled is. ARM Have you ever broken an arm? Nopes. Do you keep people at an arm’s length? In some ways, like how I refuse to talk about the things I’m going through and I don’t like showing most people that I struggle.

Last time you went to a farm? I’m not sure if I’ve been to one. We drive through fields and farms all the time, in the provinice; but we’ve never actually stopped over and went to a farm. Do you self-harm? Yes. Surprisingly, I haven’t done so this month. But yes, I have in general. What time is your alarm set for? For a while it wasn’t set to anything but now that I have an internship I’ll probably need to set it to at least around 8 AM. Do you own any firearms? No thanks. Would you get a tattoo on your forearm? Sure. Do you have a certain charm about you? Don’t you kind of have to ask other people when it comes to possessing charm? I certainly wouldn’t endorse this myself, lol. Do you need to be disarmed? I have nothing on me, so no. ARN Were you raised in a barn? I was not. I grew up in a house in a suburban-ish neighborhood. Do you use “damn” or “darn” more often? Damn. I’ve never used darn...or if I have, it would’ve been well over a decade ago. Do you knit or crochet with yarn? I don’t crochet or knit. ARP Have you ever caught a carp while fishing? No, I’ve never gone fishing before actually.

Do you like harp seals? I’ve never heard of them until now but it’s an automatic yes for me because they are animals. Would you like to learn how to play the harp? Sure. Name something in your house that is sharp? Keys. Is anything you own covered by a tarp? No. ART Last time you fell apart? This morning. Well, it’s 2 AM now so it’s more accurate to say yesterday morning. Are you good at any sort of art forms? Not at all. I like coloring and painting, but with painting I like those that come with paint-by-number guides. I’m not very creative myself and don’t know for the life of me what colors work together and I’m terrible at creating images. Last place you used a shopping cart? Grocery store, ages ago. Have you ever created a chart in Microsoft Excel? Yes but it’s not my favorite thing in the world to do. Who is your other counterpart? I dunno if I have anyone. Angela, I guess. Do you like to play darts? I’ve never played it but it looks fun and I’m always up for a friendly game. Who’s the last person you departed from? My family, when I left the living room where we were all staying at to go back to my bedroom to resign for the evening. How often do you fart? Never. I don’t like the sensation and if I feel one coming I suppress it lol. No one has heard me do it before, and I don’t plan on making it heard hahahaha How’s your heart been feeling lately? Not well. Is there a K-Mart or a PetSmart where you live? No. Is it easy for you to outsmart a child? Idk man, they can be a little surprise at times. Where is the part in your hair? It’s on the left side. Have you ever gotten a part in a play? No, because I’ve never auditioned for one. Not interested in that kind of activity, either. Last time you had to restart your computer? It’s been a while. Would you consider yourself to be smart? In some ways, like in academics. What trend would you like to start? I don’t feel like starting one. Do you like tarts?     Not very much, but my old school has this trademark tart that I love so much. [a-zebra-is-a-striped-horse]

[eternaleve]

Watching A Broken Frame music videos for the first time!

Carrying on with my Depeche Mode video rewatch project with the vids for A Broken Frame (first post is found here https://eternaleve.tumblr.com/post/624649762286780416/ive-spent-the-course-of-covid-lockdown-cycling)

I looked through my vinyl and found I did not steal my mother’s Depeche Mode singles from this album (I only stole all her Elvis Costello and Joy Division and a bunch of Japan singles which I suspect she snuck to me in hopes of making me like them) but they are all mysteriously gone. My abusive stepdad recently moved out and I have thoughts about what property he took, but this just seems petty. 

Anyway, let’s talk about A Broken Frame! Vince Clarke left the band to go and be the Paul McCartney of 80s electronic music, forming Yazoo and Erasure. Apparently he did not like success and touring and stuff, which is far because it’s a lot of pressure, so he’s out and Alan Wilder is in after responding to an ad in Melody Maker. Remember music journalism? He joined as a tour keyboardist and appears in the videos for the album, but didn’t contribute to the album.

 A Broken Frame was released eleven months after Speak & Spell, which doesn’t seem to be enough time to me for a band to create another whole album's worth of material. It just seems that a band spends a few years perfecting their sound and a selection of songs, and then a record label says, ‘Great! Now do the same thing, but in a much shorter timeframe, under much more stress, and in snatched moments between being shuttled from gig venue to gig venue!’. I understand there’s a ~hype train~ that music acts have to follow, because bands can slip out of notice so fricking quickly, but the pressure does not seem set up to maintain the mental and emotional well-being of people. I’m sure nothing like that will happen in the history of this bad though!

This album cover is considered one of the world’s greatest photographs for a reason. It’s stark and beautiful and has echoes of socialist realism and is just a really striking image. I don’t know who has final say over art direction in the band but whoever does has a great eye for images. The picture is taken over by Duxford and as I’m from the Midlands I have been to Duxford on a hundred school trips (it has a big air centre with WW2 planes and things and bits of the Berlin Wall), so I’ve probably been past this field an uncountable number of times without even realising it.

See You (Jan 1982, No 6 UK charts)

I like how it looks like fuzzy felt. It feels very, very different from the singles art from the last album, I guess to indicate a clear difference in direction? Maybe? This is the first single for the band written by Martin Gore and starting his reign as songwriter.

All the music videos for this album were directed by Julien Temple and are Not Liked by the band. I generally quite like Julien Temple’s work and watched a lot of it as a teen (stepdad being hugely into the Pistols), so I am intrigued to say the least how these will turn out to be.

This does give me a bit of a nostalgia kick for an old-fashioned style train station. It’s pretty much what my home station used to look like before everything was privatised, bought out by Virgin, turned bright red and full of commuters. I like how the station sparks to the beat of the music and that someone okayed an actual spending budget for this time around.

YOU HAVE TO LEAVE THE STATION THE PHOTOBOOTH IS HAUNTED

Not going to lie, this looks 100% like my Dad’s first ever passport photo. I like the addition of the bowtie. It adds a real ‘First Communion’ vibe to the whole look. The nose stud… well, I had a nose stud at the exact same period of my life. Same age too, I think, only mine stayed around a lot longer when it definitely should not have done.

It was at that moment he knew he had made a grave mistake in confronting the ‘Telephone Box Killer’ on his own.

Insert a standard ‘Original Selfie’ joke here. The use of the photobooth gives a cute little through line in the video, as well as giving other band members a chance to be present. I remember using photobooths to take fun photos, before they started costing so much goddamned money and put them only in the most inconvenient places. I still have a bunch that I keep in my purse.

… And now everyone’s working an office job? To show the passage of time? Or because it’s now a bit with music, so we’re showing the use of keyboards through office equipment that sort of requires you to make similar hand movements?

Something, something, statement about technology? The photobooth theme was fine! It was cute! It said something about the regret and passage of time from teen to young adult romance! Why are there now a lot of calculators?

Just in case you forgot - the single’s out now. Wink, wink.

But let’s go back and check in with our corporate overlords. Bob, how are you doing on the spyware floor?

… is this Julien Temple? Is it a music video within a music video? Did he put himself in the video? Could this part not have been done by a member of the band? Like, y’know, that new one who was clearly added in partly through this video?

I like the main core storyline of the video - thinking about a past relationship and then happening to run into them again unexpectedly - but I can see why this is perhaps not well thought of. Next one!

The Meaning of Love (April 82, No 12 UK charts)

This reminds me a lot of the cover for the first Adrian Mole book which was published the same year. It does not match the first single at all or the album, but I guess the album art was yet to be done? Or maybe two different departments handled them, because I would have gone with a different single cover if I knew that one of the greatest photographs of all time was in the wings for the album.

Reader, my heart dropped. I knew we were in for some deeply 80s bullshit. And, like, not good 80s bullshit.

This is the lounge act in the cruiseship of my nightmares

Martin Gore there looking like 99% of the lesbians on the DIY punk scene.

What the fuck is going on?

What, and I must reiterate, the fuck is going on? Are those pies? Pie eyes? Pie eye glasses? What does it mean?

Now’s not the time for your science homework, it’s time to film a music video.

Great, I know what image will be repeating in my night terrors tonight. Martin Gore’s face earnestly singing at me from the depths of a paramecium.

THIS JUST GETS WORSE AND WORSE. THERE IS NO SITUATION ON THE FACE OF THE PLANET MADE BETTER WITH PUPPETS.

No, my night paralysis nightmare will be Dave Gahan’s face turning into a fucking pie over and over and over again.

Oh, I see, the Meaning of Love is that your wife will turn into a bitter harpy that won’t let you live your dream and also your life is ruined because she keeps letting the puppets sleep in the bed.

I guess the video has a sort of XTC vibe? It does remind me of the video of ‘Making Plans for Nigel’, which I do like, but also this video is fucking awful should be seen to be believed. I liked the band’s awkward choreography which was four men showing how much they did not want to be doing any of this.

Leave In Silence (August 82, No 18)

The font is nice. That’s about all there is to say for this. It doesn’t match the other two singles. I’m not saying everything has to be matchy-matchy, but it is nice to have visual similarity and consistency. This looks like the record label gave up on trying.

Okay, so we’ve got the album art sorted and starting out with a - I guess you could call it ‘low rural farming vocalisation’, and neither of these two things match the other singles or music videos, which have had a very poppy, teen girl, Smash Hits vibe. 

This week on The Generation Game, you could win a stainless steel bowl, a cuddly toy, and the lead singer of Depeche Mode!

This video started with a group of people vocalising while pouring out grain and looking very plaguecore, now we’re all playing around on a conveyor belt because I think Julien Temple has run out of ideas and is being artsy and surreal and weird to cover that up.

Ladies and gentleman, I’m sad to say that ‘The Fanciest Little Cowboy’ competition will not be running this year due to a lack of other contestants. This is a very fancy Little Cowboy though.

…. I…. what? 

I have seen many bad, bad, bad cursed images in my time, but this is going straight up to the top. What the fuck does this say about the song? The band? The image the record label is trying to project? This pointless weird imagery for the sake of being pointless and weird.

It’s okay, Jess. Bright Red Martin Gore can’t really hurt you. Only haunt you.

And now spacehoppers. Because of course spacehoppers!

The players from Pathologic show up to make a cameo appearance, matching nothing in the video, and seeming wildly out of place with everything else. Pick a theme or story, Julien! It is EITHER the Generation Game OR a terrifying children’s show OR guttural Soviet inspired plaguecore. You can pick one! Not all of them!

The Blue Man Group really had a rough start. The wheat is… just there. Because I guess Julien Temple couldn’t think of how to organically weave it an advertisement for the album. So there’s just a bundle of wheat for no good reason.

By this point, same, mate. That is the only reaction I am having.

These videos were… not great. I think ‘See You’ is the best and most cohesive - it tells a cute little story that ties in with the themes of the song and provides an emotional resonance. And then things just go off the bloody chain a bit. They get weird and experimental in a way that does not work in selling the band or the song. They seem pretty disconnected from what a music video should be and Julien Temple seemed to just run out of ideas by ‘Leave In Silence’. C- Mr Temple, must try harder.

And then onto Construction Time Again! ... well, when I get round to it. In a few days maybe.

[crashdevlin]

Holidays, not Holy-Days

Red Queen Chronicles Masterlist

Author’s Note: Originally posted to ao3 (This is an edited and improved version) Part Two of the Red Queen Chronicles!

Summary: Cassie Campbell brings her teammates and friends together for her first ever Christmas dinner. 2 aliens, an atheist, her boyfriend's ex-wife, her ex-boyfriend and an all-American lab rat worried about her mental health. What could go wrong?

Word Count: 8148

Pairing(s): Phil Coulson x OFC (Past), Clint Barton x OFC, 

Story Warnings: 18+, HERE BE SEX!!! DON’T READ IF YOU’RE A YOUNG’UN!!!, kitchen sex, protected vaginal sex, oral sex (fem rec), identity issues, panic attack,

"Because, Clint, I know that at least two of us, probably three, have never had a Christmas dinner and Wanda hasn't had one since she was orphaned. You guys are my family and I really want everyone here. I've got this big old house to myself and I don't want that on Christmas. I know Nat's not busy. You're retired. You can't say 'no'."

"What about Laur-"

"I asked Laura. She wanted nothing to do with it. Apparently, she and the kids don't leave the house much around Christmas just in case Barney comes home. I think that's probably a real depressing place to be if he doesn't show, so come to Washington. Spend Christmas with your girlfriend and your friends."

Static came through the phone as Clint sighed. "Who is gonna be there?"

"Well, Pepper confirmed for her and Tony, but I'm gonna double check with him. I think I've caught Thor's attention, or at least Heimdall's, so I'll hear from him soon. I sent Steve a paper invite via snail mail a week ago, so I'm gonna call to see if he got it. Wanda and Vision both confirmed and Sam said he has to see what's going on with his family, but he would probably stop by. I'm gonna call Phil after I get off with you, invite him and his people."

"You gonna have enough food for all those people?"

"I'm making a goose, a turkey, and a ham, three kinds of potatoes, four casseroles, homemade rolls, store-bought rolls, cranberry sauce from scratch and 6 different kinds of pie. I have a chart to make sure everything is ready at the same time. I got this. Now, I just need you."

"Oh, tug at my heartstrings. Fine. I confirm for me and Nat. See you on the 22nd, babe."

"Love you, Hawkeye." She hung up and wiped her hand down her face. "Visit or call? Visit or call?"

Cassie sighed and hit the buttons on her landline to call Coulson. "Cassie. How's Seattle?"

"Rainy, but beautiful. Exactly what I expected. So... how's the... lack of hand?" She grabbed a mug and filled it with coffee.

"It's... bad. I'm having issues. My robotics guy is behind on making a prosthetic because our biologist disappeared and they were joined at the hip, but... is that why you called, Cass?"

"No, actually. Well, kinda. I know that the last several months have sucked for pretty much everybody and I'm thinking that we all need a bit of happy. I am hosting a Yule feast on the 22nd, and I'd like you and your A-Team to come."

"Yule Feast?"

"Yeah. I'm inviting a Viking God and a couple atheists, so I didn't want to go too religious on it. That's why I'm doing it early and calling it 'Yule'. It's gonna be great and I'd really like you and yours to be there."

"Even Bobbi?"

"Uh, yeah. Actually, I have a gift specially for her."

"Really? Aren't you dating Barton?"

"I am. Since before Sokovia, actually, since I know you wanna know. No, I developed a thing in my Stark Tech lab that I think screams 'Mockingbird'. I got Tony to agree let me give the prototype to her. If she has any complaints, it'll help me tweak it before any sort of production."

"So... you're calling to invite me and mine to Yule dinner?" There was silence for a few seconds, then Coulson asked, "Are you making sweet potatoes?"

"And sweet potato pie. Mac and Cheese casserole, mashed potatoes and those rolls I made on your birthday."

"What can I bring?"

"Just you and some presents."

"We'll be there."

"Great. See you in a few days." She turned off the house phone and took a drink of her coffee. "Call Tony," she demanded of her cell phone.

"You know who you called. Leave a message."

"The Boss is unavailable. Would you like to leave a message?" The Irish accent of FRIDAY came through the speaker.

"Oh, come on! FRIDAY, tell the man to answer his phone. Tell him I burned down StarkTech Olympia and the insurance guys are gonna be calling next."

"That's not funny." Tony's voice came through the speaker next.

"But effective, wasn't it, Boss?" Cassie asked, with a smile.

"What do you need, Campbell?"

"A vacation and a raise, but beyond that... Pepper RSVP'd for the two of you and I just wanted to make sure she even mentioned it to you before she did that."

"RSVP'd... to your little Christmas thing?"

"Right."

"Yeah. I told her to. We're good."

"Awesome. Everyone's gonna be here. Well, not everyone. Still can't seem to get a bead on Banner and he doesn't really seem like the Christmas type, but... Clint, Nat, Vision, Wanda, Sam, Phil and his crew and you and Pepper are definitely coming. I have a raven to Asgard-don't ask- and an invitation traveling USPS to New York for Steve. It's an actual paper Christmas card. Hallmark just says some things better than me."

"No. You just wanted to make Rogers feel at home. All those words you throw around, no one could say it better than you."

Cassie chuckled. "I got a blank snowman card and wrote inside it. You know me so well, Tony."

"Do you need me to bring anything? I mean, do you need me to tell Pepper we need to bring something?"

"If you want liquor, you have to bring it. I've been keeping a dry house. And... I know how you are about the holidays, so... that's what you should bring."

"All right. Next week. And StarkTech Olympia better be standing and ready for a walk-through when I get there."

"You're gonna make me give you a tour of the lab on Christmas?"

"The 22nd isn't Christmas. I don't even think it's Yule this year."

"Actually, it is. I looked it up."

"Uh-oh. You aren't getting into all that occultist weird stuff that Hitler got your daddy into, are you?"

"I'm insulted, Tony. Even as a joke, that's insulting. I was trying to be more accommodating for the aliens and agnostics on our team, all right? I'm still a Christian and I will be celebrating my savior's birth, likely alone, a few days later. This isn't about the Holy-day, this is about family."

"Yule isn't about family. It's about the God of the Sun dying and being reborn. It's kinda like Easter, without the fertility symbols."

"Oi, don't shit on my religion, Stark. Easter is not about the bunny or eggs, it's about Jesus becoming the Walking Dead. Just be here on Yule and bring booze. I have the feeling we're gonna need it." She hung up before he could and stretched her neck to relieve some of the stress.

****************************

Clint showed up the night of the 21st, calling forth a squeal from the superheroine. She wrapped her arms around him and kissed his cheek. "House smells like pie," Clint said.

"That's 'cause there's three pies in the oven."

"Three? Thought you were doing six?"

"Apple, pumpkin and sweet potato are in now. I've got a no-bake chocolate and a lemon meringue in the fridge setting and I did a pumpkin cheesecake yesterday. Bonus, I wanted to know if I was any good at pecan, so I made an extra pie."

"Wow. You got really into this, didn't you?" Clint asked, flicking a sprig of mistletoe hanging in the doorjamb between the foyer and the living room.

"I didn't have Christmas for twenty years and then, Phil was usually working on Christmas. This is the first time I've ever had a chance to do Christmas. I bought a whole bunch of ornaments and stuff. I've got a real freakin' pine tree in my living room. Real mistletoe that I had to buy through a florist. The dinner. I'm excited."

"How excited?" Clint asked, wagging his eyebrows at her.

"Are you asking for Christmas sex, because I am severely behind on my mise en place?"

"Your what?"

"Food prep. You know, giant meal tomorrow."

"And if I help you with your preparazione del cibo, you can come take a break and show me what you've done with your bedroom since I helped you move in."

"It's been months, Clint. You think we'll even make it up those stairs?" she asked.

"Love it when you turn the modesty off for me," he said, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her into a deep kiss.

She moaned into his mouth and tried not get pulled into the feeling of having Clint's hands on her hips again. She put her hands on his shoulders and pushed back from him firmly. "No. I... Clint. There's a lot to do still."

"And sixteen hours 'til the other guests come through that door. You said it, babe, it's been months." Clint brought his fingers up and began to unbutton her green cardigan. "This is adorable on you, by the way. Can we take it off for a sex... I mean, sec."

"Clint. What if the pies burn?"

He pulled the sweater down her arms and tossed it toward the counter. It landed perfectly, hanging from the corner of a slightly open drawer. "We don't even have to leave the kitchen."

"That's not very... sanitary," Cassie breathed out as Clint pulled her camisole top over her head and threw it over to hang with her sweater.

"You have seen my apartment in Bed-Stuy, haven't you?" Clint asked, turning her around and pushing her so that she was leaning over the counter. "How much do you think I care about sanitary? Thank you for wearing a skirt." He kissed the back of her neck as his hands glided down her legs to pull her skirt up around her hips and hooked his fingers in the band of her panties.

"There's really only one thing in this kitchen I've been dying to eat, Cass, and it's not in the oven."

"Oh. Don't be vulgar."

He pulled her panties to her feet and kissed his way up the back of her thigh. "You love it when I'm vulgar." He picked her left foot up and pushed it to rest on the counter. His tongue delved quickly into her as his left hand came around to rub her clit. His right hand dug into his back pocket and tossed a condom onto the counter. It landed perfectly on the back of Cassie's hand, as Clint continued his assault.

She ripped the foil open and handed it backward to Clint, who stood, pulling his jeans down and rolling the condom over his mostly-hard length. "Wasting no time, huh?"

"Hey, you're the one that's worried about pies. And I've been thinking about this since before I got on that plane. I'm more than ready enough. You need more foreplay?"

"God, no. Just fuck me, we can do this the right way after the guests leave."

"My thoughts, exactly." He lined himself up with her, putting his left hand on her shoulder and his right on her hip. He pushed the head of him into her, both of them closing their eyes at the sensation. He swiveled his hips forward until he was completely sheathed in her. "Did I mention how much I've missed you?"

"Missed me or missed this?"

"It can't be both?" He asked.

"Such a charmer," she whispered as he pulled back until he was just barely inside her. She bit her lip in anticipation and let her head fall forward as he began a fast-paced piston motion. "Fuck, Clint."

"Gotta visit more." Clint groaned as he attached his mouth to the junction where her shoulder and neck met.

"Oh, yes. Please. I need more of this in my life." She whimpered as Clint brought his left hand around to rub furiously at her clit.

"I'm gonna cum. You gonna cum with me?"

"Harder, Clint."

"Bossy," he breathed in her ear, but his next several pumps were harder and he pressed his fingers into her clit with much more pressure. As the muscles inside of her began to clench, Clint grunted his approval and emptied into the condom.

Cassie reached forward and grabbed several paper towels, as Clint pulled the condom off and tossed it into the trash. She handed the paper towels to him and reached down to pull up her panties. "I love you and that was great, but... I have to wash my hands and check on pies. Why don't you go put your bag in the bedroom?"

"I love you and that was great." He kissed her cheek and walked out of the kitchen, fattening his jeans.

*******************

Thor's arrival brought rain down on the house, harder than the normal Seattle drizzle, and made slush of the December snow. "Thor! A-and Sif!" Cassie said, pulling the door open. "I wasn't expecting you to bring Lady Sif."

Thor gave a huge smile as he passed through the doorway to greet Pepper, Clint and Tony. Lady Sif stopped in front of her and smiled. "I've heard much about you, Lady Cassie. Thor has regaled us of your warrior personality and your great intelligence. You'd do well on Asgard."

"Regaled you? Wha-"

"Yes, the Allfather and I both greatly appreciate the tale where Loki came to you disguised as one of your advisors and you caved in his chest with one great kick."

Cassie blinked at the giant woman. *The Allfather. Thor still doesn't know. Shit.* "The Allfather... that doesn't seem like something he'd care about."

"On the contrary," Thor said, placing a long, poorly-wrapped pole against the wall next to the tree. "Father enjoys hearing about you. He especially loves to hear about Ulysses Klaue's ship."

"Ah, yes! How you were able to redirect the witch's influence and break out of her hold while Thor and his companions were all stuck inside their minds. That you, a small Midgardian woman, had to carry the mighty Odinson to safety never ceases to amuse."

"It doesn't strike any of you as odd that Odin would care, at all, about what some Midgardian woman's doing?"

Thor clapped a hand on her back and smiled. "You are more than just a Midgardian woman. You are my friend and teammate and, though your marriage to my brother was short and involuntary, I consider you my sister."

"I believe it is your connection with Loki, his obsession with you, that spurred Odin's interest. He's ordered Heimdall report your actions weekly."

"And the ravens are watching me. That's how I got the message to you."

"Just Huginn," Thor answered.

"Yeah, I'm just gonna say it: you ever think Odin might be Loki in disguise?"

Sif and Thor looked at each other, seriously, for a moment before filling the foyer with loud laughter. "You did not tell me she was so adept at the art of jest, Thor!"

Cassie smiled, awkwardly, as Thor put his hands on her shoulders and walked her into the living room. "What's funny?" Clint asked.

"The absurdity that my brother might've gone back to Asgard, where he is a wanted man set to be imprisoned for the rest of his existence for crimes against the Nine Realms, and somehow took over Odin's life and position as King."

"That is funny. Even Loki isn't crazy enough to go back to Asgard," Tony said, a glass of suspiciously thin eggnog in his hand.

"What if he did it when you thought he was dead; before he even came back for me?" Cassie whispered.

Everyone in the room looked around as they realized she was serious. "Kid, where's this coming from?" Tony asked.

"Odin has taken an interest in her. My tales of her mightiness have made her an interest for him. She thinks this odd." Thor responded.

"You guys are right. It's absurd. Loki would never have made it to the throne room. Heimdall would've seen. He doesn't ever miss anything, right?"

"Exactly," Thor said, with a smile.

Cassie nodded and walked toward the door as the chime rang through the house. *Planted the seed. Nothing else I can do. Except admit that I've known since I was Joanna and I should've told them when I got back from Austria and Thor needs to go depose Loki from the Allfather's throne. Which will stall their trust in me, and rightfully so. Erg. Just not on Christmas, Cassie.* "Phil!" she said, with a smile as she opened the door. She wrapped her arms around him, then turned to the tall blond. "Bobbi, nice to see you up and about. How's the knee?"

"Better than the lung. Leg only hurts when I move."

"Lung hurts when you breathe. Gotcha. Well, I don't have any medical personnel here, but I've got several scientists and Nat and Clint might have some of those SHIELD un-approved pain killers that Phil's supposed to act like he's never taken because he's Director now."

"Uh-oh, Coulson. You sure you wanna introduce us to your (super young, by the way) ex? Might learn some stuff about you." A woman with wavy brunette hair and a black leather jacket said.

"'Skye', right? Wait, 'Daisy' now. Nice to meet you. Cassie. And yeah, young, but strong and awesome and mature for my age."

"You mean, 'our age', right? I mean, if we aren't the same age, then you can't be much older," Daisy started.

"That's not- our relationsh- She's young, but-"

Bobbi laughed. "Let's get inside before Coulson pulls out the whole 'Age ain't nothin' but a number' spiel."

"Ooh, or the 'she seduced me' argument," Daisy replied, as the women walked past the hostess into the foyer where they took off their jackets.

"More likely, the 'You know how hard it is to find someone who understands the job'," Bobbi said, disappearing into the living room.

"We didn't bring any presents. Except Coulson," a sad Scottish accent said as the skinny man who owned it stepped forward.

"That's okay. Got food for you, anyway, Fitz."

"How do you know us all?" Fitz asked, stopping at the doorway.

"I have cultivated an unusual and unexpected friendship with Nick Fury. He put your team together so he told me about you."

"You're friends with Fury?" Coulson asked, surprised.

"Yeah. I showed a little due respect and he showed it back." She pushed the men toward the living room and shut the door. "You know, Fury doesn't have a problem with me dating Clint."

"Probably because Barton isn't old enough to be your father," Natasha called out as they walked into the living room.

"Nat! When did you get here?"

"She walked down the stairs a few minutes ago," Pepper answered.

"Clint left the window unlocked, didn't he?"

Natasha gave her signature smirk. "You shouldn't keep pizza in your bedroom. You'll get bugs."

Cassie turned her gaze to Clint. "There's pizza in my bedroom?"

"I got hungry after you went to sleep. Amazing Nick's is open until 3 am."

"But why is the pizza in the bedroom?"

"The real question is, how'd you miss that when you woke up?" Daisy asked.

"I fell asleep on the couch 'cause I was still cooking. So, he got a pizza at 2 am and took it up to my room to eat."

"I like to be comfy when I'm overloading on carbohydrates and cheese."

"There better not be grease on my comforter."

"Hey, calm down! It's Christmas!" Clint said, with a smile.

"Oh, you got jokes, Barton, but we all know I can kick your well-toned ass, so go get the pizza out of my damn bedroom."

Clint chuckled. "Yes, ma'am."

Daisy and Bobbi watched as he bounced up the stairs, two at a time. "Wow. It's weird that you're the grown-up in your relationship. Was it like that with Coulson, too?" Daisy asked.

"Um... Phil and I were both, kinda, the grown-up when we were together. I was grown-up about the domestic stuff and he was grown about everything else."

"Which wasn't much. He wasn't around often," Natasha said, casting her eyes on the Director.

"Fury had me running all over the world, chasing dangerous tech, people and aliens. New York for Stark, New Mexico for Thor and Dr. Selvig. Hong Kong. Portland." Cassie gave a tight smile to the room at the mention of Portland, sitting down next to Pepper. Stark patted her hand as Phil continued. "I was busy, and Cassie knew that I was going to be away a lot. She knew what she was getting into."

"At, what, twenty? She knew what she was getting into?" Pepper chided.

"All right, back off of Phil a little. This isn't the season of shaming. It's the season of giving. And I have presents for most of you, food for everyone. Speaking of, I have to go check the turkey," Cassie said, standing up and heading for the kitchen.

"Need any help in there?" Bobbi shouted.

"No, no. I'm good for now. Might need help in a while but... ooh, actually, if you wanted, I have a crudité platter in here. You could come grab it." Cassie pulled the platter from the fridge and handed it to the gigantic blond woman. "Hummus, ranch, veggies. Nothing that should be offensive to anyone... except maybe the carnivore Asgardians. I don't know if they even eat vegetables."

"I'm sure it's fine. Hey, you know we're just taking the piss out of Coulson for the hell of it, right? It's nothing against you or your relationship. I'm sure it wasn't anything sordid."

"It was true love... for a few years. And then it wasn't." Cassie sighed, pulling open the oven.

"But you've got Clint now. He's a good man. And if you can deal with the infantile way he deals with life, you'll be fine."

"I know. And I can." She stood, baster in hand, and shut the oven door. She looked at Bobbi. "You ever get that feeling, where something is great... it's amazing and awesome and you love it, but something isn't quite right? It's just askew."

"Yeah. Sometimes."

"My whole life is like that. Everything is just a little off center. And I don't know why, so I question everything now... even good men."

Bobbi opened her mouth to say something, but the bell rang again, prompting Cassie to nod at her and walk toward the foyer. "Steve! Wanda and Vision! Hey! Welcome, welcome, and happy holidays!" She stepped out of the way to let the Avengers into the house.

"Happy Christmas!" Wanda said, hugging her.

"Fröhliche Weihnachten, meine Freundin." She gave the brunette a squeeze and turned to Vision with a smile. "Great to see you. I was afraid you'd think this Christmas, or Yule, stuff would be silly."

"Wanda explained the importance. I'd never detract from your rituals. I was, admittedly, a bit lost about what to bring."

"We didn't have much money, but we think you'll be happy with zem," Wanda said.

"I'm just happy you're here. Living room is straight through there. Everybody's already here."

"Sam said he'll be here for dessert," Steve said, closing the door. He looked around the hallway, decked out in reds and greens. "The lights out there are nothing compared to this. You went big on the decorations."

Cassie shrugged. "First Christmas."

"Really?"

"Does it surprise you that Hydra didn't feel the need to tell me about Christmas?" she asked as Steve took his blue coat off and hung it neatly by the door. "I learned about it while I was in the Fridge, through books and stuff."

"You've been out for almost five years, now, right?"

"No one to celebrate with. Fury always made sure Phil was out during the holidays... and after I moved to New York... no one to celebrate with," she repeated.

"I'm sure Nick didn't do it on purpose."

Cassie smiled. "Yeah... he did. He wanted Phil out and away from me as much as possible. Nick and I have discussed this. Anyway, Merry Christmas, Steve."

"Merry Christmas, Cassie," Steve responded, eyeing the mistletoe above her head. He leaned down and pressed his lips to her cheek. "Come on."

"All right, that's everybody except Sam, who won't be here before pie." Cassie walked into the living room and stood next to the tree, Steve leaning against the doorjamb. "So, we can do presents before or after the feast. I'd recommend before, though, 'cause who wants to open presents when they're fighting a tryptophan nap?"

"Break out the presents. That big one, there, that's for me, right?" Tony asked, pointing to a large flat present.

"Actually, yes. Were you shaking gifts while I was out of the room?" she asked, handing the gift to him. He ripped the paper off to reveal a mosaic picture of Iron Man made of thousands of pictures of Tony. "I had a little time while waiting for things to finish at work, so I came up with this. Do you like it?"

"This is... amazing. Look, it's me.... made out of me," Tony said, turning the frame so everyone could see it.

"You had to play to his ego, didn't you?" Pepper joked.

"I knew what he'd like. Okay, so.... Pepper, here you go. Clint, babe. Natasha," Cassie said, handing wrapped boxes to everyone as she said their names. "Now, open them one at a time. I wanna see your faces as you open them. Pepper, you first."

Pepper smiled and tore into the box. "Oh, my. Did you make this?" she asked, pulling up a teal knit scarf.

"Yeah. I tried to make as many of the gifts as I could."

"Where did you find time to learn to knit?" Phil asked.

"Um... I learned to knit a few years ago. I was working on socks... and a blanket." She looked down, then back up with a big smile. "I was gonna do a sweater for Vision, but I decided against it. Natasha, yours next."

Natasha looked down at the long box in her lap, then ran her finger along the end of the paper and slid the box out. Inside was a knife, almost a foot long from end to end. The Russian smiled slightly as she pulled it from it's sheath. "Fallkniven A1 survival blade. 6.375 inch blade, 11 inches because it's full tang. Beautiful, perfectly balanced... this is amazing. Thank you."

"You don't already have one, do you?"

Natasha shook her head. "No. I don't. Thank you."

"Clint." Clint's box was long and when he opened it, a shiny, purple leather quiver greeted him. "I mean, it's obviously not for Tactical work, but... I like it."

"She knows your favorite color? We were married for two years before I knew your dirty secret." Bobbi seemed offended.

"Hey, there's nothing wrong with a man liking purple. I just don't tell anyone because some people disagree with me about that."

"That might be my fault. His first suit was all purple and blue, with a big mask. I told him he looked like a big, gay circus freak," Natasha responded.

"Mostly right," Bobbi responded.

"Seriously?!" Clint glared at the gymnast and the ballerina, before leaning forward to kiss Cassie. "I love it. I'm gonna use it at the farm everyday."

Cassie smiled, a blush creeping across her cheeks. She cleared her throat and walked to the tree, grabbing another object that definitely looked like a picture frame, albeit much smaller than Tony's, and handing it to Wanda. Wanda smiled and pulled open the wrapping paper. Her face dropped into a sad look as tears began to form in her eyes. Vision put a hand on her shoulder as she hugged the small canvass to her.

"Okay, knitting, I get, but when did you learn to paint?" Phil asked, deeply impressed by the detail in her painting of Pietro.

"I got the basic lessons from this little old lady in Hohenheims. She was painting a mural of the Nativity on the wall of Father Nathan's office and I just watched and learned for a while. I work on it when I have time."

"How do you have so much time? You work sixty hours a week at the lab and you go to school. When are you painting and knitting and making mosaics of Tony?" Steve asked, crossing the living room and picking up the painting to examine it as Wanda set it on the couch and hugged the artist.

Cassie smiled. "I make time for my family." She grabbed a small box and handed it across to Coulson, who shook it.

Phil pulled the wrapping off, revealing a small plastic box. He flipped the top off and gasped, "Are these-"

"Mint and vintage. The guy tried to sell me reproductions, but I could tell the difference. I've seen the real thing. I heard what Fury did to yours and I knew it must've broken your heart once you got back from TAHITI."

"These must've cost a fortune!" Phil whispered, flipping carefully through the cards.

"Well, after I caught the guy trying to cheat me, I pulled up some footage of Sokovia on my phone and showed him that I, you know, could put the hurting on him, he gave me a good deal." She smirked as she handed a box to Bobbi.

"Are you sure you wanna give me a present?"

"I'm sure. Go on."

Bobbi tore the package open and pulled out two batons and two bracelets. "Do these... go together?"

"Yeah. The, uh, the bracelets snap on and activate and that way, you can throw your batons and the magnetic pull between the bracelets and batons will bring them right back to your hands."

"That's amazing!" Bobbi exclaimed, testing out the balance of the batons. "These... if they can do what you say... when I get back in the field..."

"If," Coulson responded, still looking at his cards, mesmerized.

"It does! And you will get out in the field again. Okay, who's left? Steve! That box," she said pointing to a big box next to the tree.

He leaned down and ripped open the box, pulling out a stack of albums. "'Music Through the Decades'."

"Starts on the ‘50s and goes on through now. I also added a few albums that I really like. Green Day is real good and Nirvana."

"If there's not any Sabbath in there, then what's the point?"

Cassie smirked at Tony. "No 'Iron Man' but I'm pretty sure 'Crazy Train' is on one of those vinyls."

"This is great, Cassie. Thank you. And thank you for... picking vinyls."

"Of course. They're coming back into vogue, so it's easier to find them."

"Everything old is new again," Clint mumbled.

Cassie giggled before turning to Thor. "I'm still working on yours. It was a tall order and I thought I could get it done before now but I... just haven't had time. I'm working on a communication device that will work between Midgard and Asgard, so you can call Jane or we could call you. Not everyone on the team has Heimdall and Huginn watching them."

"A tall order? I assume this means a difficult thing and yes, that would be a 'tall order'. Even Asgard doesn't have such a device."

"If anyone can do it-" Clint started.

"I can. But if I don't care to try, Cassie's got you," Tony said, taking a drink of his nog.

"I'll figure it out. Promise."

"Wow. She's an amazing gift-giver," Daisy mused, taking one of Bobby's batons and tossing it in the air.

"Yeah. Now it's her turn. Grab a gift." Natasha pointed at the tree.

"Allow me." Thor volunteered, grabbing the poorly-wrapped pole as Sif handed her a pair of gloves.

Cassie looked between the Asgardians in confusion. "I need gloves to open my present?" she asked. They just nodded, smiling, as the SHIELD agents looked up, nervously. She pulled the gloves on and looked down.

"That's not..." Phil set down the cards and stood, looking to Thor as he handed the pole to Cassie.

Cassie ripped the paper down and gasped as she was met with a bright silver staff, etched with Asgardian runes. "Oh, my. This is beautiful."

"That's a Berserker Staff. Nobody touch it," Daisy warned.

"Are you sure that's a good gift for-" Phil started, looking worried.

"She is mighty. She can handle the Berserk." Sif answered.

"Okay, somebody explain this one to me. Berserker Staff?"

"Cass, it's, uh, an Asgardian weapon. It gives you a massive dose of adrenaline and then, it pulls on all of your worst memories to give you a rage like you've never felt before. It's supposed to be really good in battle, but you can ask May... it's pretty horrible."

"She is mighty, son of Coul. She pulled herself from the dream this witch created when even Thor could not. If there were ever a mortal strong enough to handle the Berserker staff, it is she," Sif responded.

Cassie looked down at the staff on her lap in wonder. "Horrible but really good in battle. It's the Hulk of alien weaponry. Thank you, Thor, so much. I know this must be a huge deal, to give a Midgardian one of these."

Thor smiled his bright white smile again. "You are not just a Midgardian. You are my sister. It is no huge deal, Lady Cassie."

"I don't know if she can handle-" Bobbi started.

"On the May-to-Ward scale of handling shit, where would you place her, Coulson?" Daisy asked.

"Well, I... think that's a question for Barton. 'Cause she didn't really have any rage when I was with her, so I don't know how she deals with it."

Cassie stood as Clint opened his mouth to answer. "How about that's a question for me. I deal with my considerable rage just fine. I became a superhero with it. I don't dwell on it, but I use it, every time I fight. If that's what this thing does, then good. And don't ask my ex-boyfriend if I can handle something, Daisy." She set the staff against the wall and smiled at Clint. "Your turn, babe."

Clint grabbed a box from under the tree and a Christmas card from the mantel over the fireplace. "Box is from me; card is from Katie."

"Ooh, the other Hawkeye sent me a gift? She's never even met me."

"She insisted."

"When do I get to meet Miss Bishop?" Cassie asked, opening the card.

"Uh... sometime when Bobbi and Nat aren't around. Too many of my important women in one place... three of you makes me nervous, four would kill me."

"'I know how stressful working with Barton can be, I can only imagine how dating him must kill. De-stress on me. Merry Christmas.' Holy shit. This is a wristband for Aphrodite Day Spa. This is the most amazing spa in central Washington. It's several thousand dollars for an all-inclusive wristband. I feel bad, now. I didn't get anything for her."

"Don't worry. I've told you her daddy is rich, right? What do you get the hero who has everything?"

"Wow." She set the card down and opened the box. "Oh, my. Is this a real Henkel?"

"Euroline. That's the one you wanted, right?" Clint asked.

"I... barely mentioned that I liked it. This is... awesome."

"He got you a kitchen knife? Lame," Tony muttered.

"A ZWILLING J.A. Henkel chef knife. This is, like, the filet minon of chef's knives." She defended. "Thank you, Clint. You are amazing."

"I think we should probably go next. 'Worst for last' is not the way, you know?" Wanda said, grabbing Vision's hand and each grabbing their gifts. Cassie smiled and opened the box Wanda handed over. "I know you spent a bit of time in Austria. Thought you might want to have a bit of Europe to eat."

"Hey! Mozartkugel!"

"What the hell is Mozartkugel?" Tony asked.

"It's pistachio marzipan and nougat covered in dark chocolate. It's amazing. Helga got me addicted before I could even pronounce 'Mozartkugel'. Thank you! How'd you know?" Wanda looked down, sheepishly. "You took it from my head. That's okay. Thank you."

Vision handed her a small box, which she quickly opened, pulling out a small ceramic Santa figurine. "Aww. It's cute! Thank you, Vision." He nodded at her.

"In the vein of 'let us not leave worst for last', me next," Pepper said, pushing a card into her hands. "It's just a gift card."

"To... Sephora? High-end make up. You rock, Pepper. I was just telling Clint that I need to learn how to do my makeup."

"And I was telling her she doesn't need it."

"Well, that's a thing Barton does well," Bobbi said to Natasha, who just nodded.

Cassie smiled at Barton and thanked Pepper. Steve looked sheepishly at the group. "I, uh, feel pretty horrible about my gift. All these great gifts and... I went practical with mine."

"An umbrella is very practical," Vision said, causing everyone to cast their eyes down.

"An umbrella. For Seattle. I get it. Cute, practical. Just like you, Steve," Cassie said, with a big smile.

"All right. My turn," Tony said, handing her a large jewelry box. "It was my mother's."

Cassie was breathless as she looked down at an Art Deco necklace with an opal and two large diamonds set into a platinum pendant. "Tony... you can't... I can't."

"Pepper doesn't do opal," Tony said, pulling the necklace from the box and holding it up to her neck. "It's gonna look great on you."

"But this was your mom's."

"My mom would have loved you. She was a strong woman, too, you know. Had to be, to put up with my father's bull. Look, I'm not wearing it and I've got two important women in my life and one of them doesn't do opal."

"He really wants you to have it," Pepper whispered, encouragingly.

"But, this is..."

"You always argue when I try to give you stuff. You should know it's futile, by now," Tony said, clasping the necklace together behind her neck and stepping back to marvel at how it looked on her. "Yup. I was right. Hangs just right."

"Here," Natasha said, pulling a bow out from behind the couch and handing it to Cassie. "It's a compound, not a longbow, but compounds are easier to learn on. Or so the guy at the shop told me."

"Wow, thanks so much." Cassie looked around and smiled. "Well, if that's everything, turkey should be-"

"That's not everything. Coulson brought something," Fitz said, walking out of the room.

Phil nodded and walked away, grabbing Cassie's hand and pulling her out of her house and into her front yard. "So, I remember how much you liked LOLA and how much you enjoyed that motorcycle run we did from Malibu to San Fran, so I had Mack and Fitz put together this..." He opened up the back of the black van they'd arrived in, revealing a Harley Sportster. "It's an '03 XL 1200. Still got the endorsement on your license?"

"You... motorcycle?" She was dumbfounded.

"Not just a motorcycle. You think he'd have us work on a regular motorcycle?" Fitz asked as Coulson rolled the bike out of the van. "Well, Mack, maybe, but not me."

"Fitz is the guy who made our stealth tech work," Coulson said, proudly. "And he made quick work of the science that makes LOLA hover. Meet HARLEE. Hover Aircraft Requiring a Little Extra Effort."

"That's a horrible name," Clint commented.

"It's better than his first idea. Wanted me to figure out a way to make the acronym PHIL," Fitz responded.

"Oh, like LOLA was named after his first love," Daisy said with smile.

"This is amazing, Fitz. Did you do the whole thing?"

"Well, Mack did a lot of the work on the... the normal motorcycle parts, but the... additional bits were all me," Fitz replied, leaning down to examine his work on the HARLEE.

"This is amazing," Cassie repeated, hugging the Scotsman, who stiffened. "Thank you, Fitz."

"Thank him? Where's my thanks?" Coulson asked.

"How much help did you give the poor overworked Leopold Fitz?" Cassie asked, releasing the man and turning to the SHIELD director.

Coulson lifted his prosthetic hand. "I couldn't help much with this."

"Oh, has he been using that as an excuse since Mack cut it off?" Natasha asked.

Bobbi, Daisy and Fitz all nodded. Cassie laughed. "Thank you for thinking of it, Phil. I love it! Now, let's get inside, it's freezing out here. Let's go eat some turkey!"

Steve smirked. "I'm fine in the cold. Mind if I stay back, appreciate your present?"

"All right, but don't go becoming a Cap-cicle again." Cassie smirked as she ushered everyone else into the house.

Steve grabbed Clint's arm and pulled him away from the door, close to the Harley and forced him to bend to look at the bike. "She's not sleeping."

"Yeah? How'd I sneak a large 3-cheese past her at 2 am, then?"

"There's no way she had time to do everything and still get sleep, Clint. She was either exhausted from her insomnia, or she took something to make herself sleep."

"Drugs?"

"Lorazepam. That's what Banner gave her when she came back from Austria."

Clint pulled back, standing. "How do you know that?"

"Because I was worried." Steve stood, too. "When she came back from Austria, she should've been rested. Happy. But she wasn't. She was exhausted, I could see it when you walked in, so I went to Banner after you and Natasha debriefed me and she was passed out in his lab. Bruce told me that he'd given her anxiety meds that let her sleep. He told me that she'd been having nightmares, terrors that persisted until she saw Dr. Garner."

"So, what, you think she's dreaming of Loki again?"

"I don't think she was dreaming of Loki before, Clint. What did she learn from that first session with Doc Garner?"

"That she wasn't evil like she thought."

"And the nightmares stopped. It wasn't Loki that caused her insomnia in Austria. Heck, she dealt with a Loki dream in enough time to pick me up and carry me off that ship in Africa. So, what could possibly be causing her insomnia now?"

Clint looked down, thinking of the plane ride to Sokovia. Wanda had gotten her to admit that she was afraid of whatever pieces of her were leaking. If anything was keeping her awake at night, that would be it. "She's fine, Cap. Don't worry about her," he lied as he turned away.

Steve watched as Clint walked into the house. "Fine. I'll talk to her about it."

As he walked into the dining room, Cassie held up a postcard. "So, I got this a few days ago, wanted to share it with you. Postcard, no return address, it looks like it's just blank, but... run a black light over it... Bam! QR code." She pulled her phone out and scanned the invisible code. "When scanned, it brings us to a far corner of the Dark Web housing just one video."

"Merry Christmas, guys," a familiar voice called out from her cell. "From scenic all-points nowhere. As you can see, but not enough to determine my location, I'm back doing what I should always be doing. I'm helping people, I'm not hurting anyone. I haven't had an incident since Sokovia and I'm gonna keep it that way."

Cassie paused the video as Steve sat down in the empty seat next to Natasha. "Despite the next part... I've analyzed it, of course, but I'm sure some of you will want to try it yourself."

"Please, stop looking for me. I can't be an Avenger, anymore. I can't come back because then I'd have to be Him and... I can't lose control again. Please, let me be. Merry Christmas, Avengers, and have a great New Year."

Natasha reached across Clint and snatched the card away from Cassie. "Did you analyze the paper stock?"

"I wanted to leave something for you to do, Natasha. Merry Christmas," Cassie said, walking away from the table to the kitchen. She returned with the turkey platter on one arm and the ham platter on the other. Steve stood and followed her into the kitchen as she grabbed the dishes carrying the sides. He stacked what was left onto his arms and carried them to the table behind her. "Thank you, Steve. Such a gentleman."

She walked to the head of the table and smiled at everyone. "I really wanna thank you guys for coming. You know, this is first Christmas... for a couple of us, and I..." She cleared her throat as tears started to sting her eyes. "I am so blessed to have you all. I've never had a family. Phil was the closest thing... And now, I have a... feast full of people who wanted to spend the holiday with me. I finally have people to share my life with and I could not be happier."

Clint reached out and took her hand in his, stroking his thumb across the back of it, reassuringly. "Anyway, thanks. Um, let's eat," she said, picking up a carving knife and a fork and leaning forward to cut into the ham.

"What, no Grace?" Tony smirked.

"Religious dinner shall be had at a later date." As she sliced into the meat, a flash of memory hit her. A man tied to a chair as a knife sliced through his thigh. His eyes clenched tightly in pain as he ground out 'Patrick Mackenzie, SHIELD level 5'. Cassie dropped the fork to the platter, her fingers tightening around the knife handle.

"You okay?" several guests chorused.

She blinked and cleared her throat. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. Just emotional. Somebody wanna- Wanda, stay out of my head," she instructed as she set the knife down and slipped away from the table.

Phil took over cutting the ham and Clint pulled the turkey into arm's reach, as Steve excused himself and followed the hostess. He knocked, lightly, at the bathroom door. "Hey. You all right?"

"I'm fine," she croaked.

"You're crying." It was a guess, but not a particularly hard one.

"Well, it's an emotional day."

"Are you sure it's that? Are you sure this isn't more of whatever's keeping you up at night?"

"You know, I told Wanda to stay out of my head, I figured it went without saying for the rest of you."

"Come on, Cassie. Talk to me." The lock clicked and Steve pushed in, locking it back behind him. She was sitting on the sink, eyes already red and puffy. "What's wrong?"

"Me. I'm wrong." Steve stood silently and waited for her confession. "I... I'm remembering."

"And that's not a good thing?"

She shook her head. "I'm remembering Hydra. I'm remembering being Vierhundert Zweiundfünfzig. I'm remembering who I was with them. I think I hurt people, Steve, maybe even killed."

Steve placed his hand firmly on her shoulder. "Cassie, it's-"

"Don't patronize me, Steve. Don't tell me it's okay because it's not okay," she snapped.

"It's not okay. But mostly, it's not okay because of how it's affecting you." Steve reached his free hand into his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief, sweeping it across her cheeks. "Whatever you did when Hydra had you, that wasn't you."

"You don't understand. If... if I remember that, if I remember who I was... doesn't that make me her?"

Steve sighed, pulling her down from the sink. "I think that's a question for Doctor Garner. Have you talked to him about this?"

She shook her head. "He was on vacation and... he hasn't answered my calls since he got back. He's busy helping Phil with the whole... Inhumans thing."

"And Fury? He must know who you were when he grabbed you from Hydra. Did you try him?"

"He told me not to ask. Said I wouldn't like the answers."

"Nick's never been big on questions. Look." Steve pressed the handkerchief into her palm. "You have people, you know. What you were saying about having family... you should talk to them. If there is a group of people who knows how to deal with... bad pasts and fuzzy memories, it's us. You aren't wrong. You're perfect the way you are."

Cassie nodded and smiled, slightly. "Thanks. Let's go eat."

***********************************

As they watched everyone get into their cars, Cassie leaned her head on Clint's shoulder. She could tell by his protective and comforting stance that he knew something was wrong, but he wouldn't ask. He was great that way. "Merry Christmas, Cassie."

"Merry Christmas, Clint. You gonna stay for a couple days?"

"Of course. Long as you want me here."

"I love you. Wanna go in and call Laura, see if Barney ever showed?"

"Yeah. Come on." Clint turned and pushed her through the door.

KITCHEN SINK TAGS @heyitscam99 @wonderlandfandomkingdom @unlikelysamwinchesteronahunt @mrs-meghan-winchester @henrymorganme @lonely-skys @allykat2108

[joannalannister]

hey lady joanna, i'm not sure if it was u or someone else who posted this, but Ive found a pie chart of the asoiaf characters that r most popular in fan fic, and sansa was number one (and i think arya was a close 2nd?? cant remember properly). Do you know why this is? I've been reading a bit of fanfic recently, and ive also found that sansa seems to be the most shipped, and written about character.

Why do people write any fanfiction, about any character? 

We write because we love it. We write because we must. I think a huge part of what makes fan fiction so singularly special is that there is no ambition in it, only passion. [x]

We all wrestle with feelings and we can recognize them in stories when we see them. We don’t need for them to be sanctioned. It doesn’t matter what the writer intended, or what the artists intended. […] One of the most radical things I tell myself about the media I consume is: fuck canon. [x]

More often than not, people write fanfiction to explore ideas that are harder to explore on their own. Themes of sexuality, queer characters, and other problems of young people that most mainstream stories barely glimpse at are laid out in full force. Are all fanfictions hugely creative stories that need to be told? Not necessarily. In fact, probably not. By their very nature they are ancillary. But if these are stories our young people are telling, and en masse as well, critics should learn to be less dismissive of them. Because the stories we tell as children lay the cornerstones of the stories we tell as adults. No matter how grammar-less and outlandish they may be. [x]

What is scary about transformative fandom is that it’s a place where young women love their media without reservation, and where they can make stories for themselves. That’s why as a culture we’ve decided that transformative fandom is weird and gross and morally wrong, and that’s why all the articles in the world explaining that transformative fandom is a totally legitimate way to interact with a text aren’t really making a dent in the never-ending stream of repulsed investigations of fandom. Because fandom is the province of young women and, culturally, we find young women terrifying. [x]

Sometimes Canon is Broken and I Need to Fix It. Anyone who is a fan of … well, anything, knows that there are certain moments when you’re reading along or watching a series or movie when you stop and shout, “Wait! What?” (one word: midiclorians) Sometimes when that’s happened I feel the desire to “fix” canon by writing my own version of “the truth” (known as ‘head canon’ or, if it gets widely accepted, ‘fanon,’ which is an abbreviated word for ‘fan canon.’) Also, people like myself write fanfic because the story they’re involved in is, on some level, really important to them. Characters become more than just fiction and what happens to them becomes very personal. The world becomes very real, and you start to want to explore every single nook and cranny, especially where you sense an inconsistency—something that makes you want to fill in the gaps. So, there are big and little “fixes” that call to fan writers. [x]

And why do people read fanfiction?

But every so often I find a fanfic I can’t keep my eyes off.  It might capture the feeling of the original source, or attack the premise from an interesting and new point of view.  I get to see my favorite characters come back to life through the power of words.  The puppeteer might be different, but, in the best fics, anyway, my beloved puppets are back and better than ever. [x]

Fanfiction is born of love, from both the writers and the readers. And the Stark sisters are widely loved. People naturally want more of these girls’ stories, to visit them again, to hear their voices again, to recapture whatever resonated with them the first time around. 

Regarding Sansa in particular … well, we haven’t had a book published with a Sansa pov in it since AFFC was published in 2005. 

(I do not count snippets from the still unpublished TWOW.) 

(2005 was a loooong time ago. I had a flip phone in 2005.) 

People want more content with Sansa so they’re making it themselves. 

Also, a lot of fanfiction is about shipping, and Sansa is very shippable. One of the central questions of Sansa’s narrative is who she will marry, from the very beginning of AGOT. GRRM teases so many possibilities for a potential partner for Sansa (some more likely than others), and people latch on to these various possibilities and generate a lot of fic for the things they love. Great fandom debates rage around who Sansa will ultimately be married to (assuming she marries) at the end of the series. Most (most!) people want Sansa to be happy in the end, but everyone (everyone!!) has different ideas about what (or who) would make Sansa happy.

And sometimes people don’t care about the endgame, they just want to explore vibrant alternate universes, since the ASOIAF canon has come to a standstill. For example, what would have happened to Sansa if Robert had never come to Winterfell? Personally I don’t particularly like alternate universes (most of the time), but lots of other people do, and they like exploring them in fic. 

And sometimes fanfiction isn’t even about the roads not taken in canon, it’s about the roads GRRM would never take, because LBR, he’s an old Baby Boomer. Fanfiction offers stories that aren’t necessarily heteronormative. 

Sansa is a fandom bicycle. She resonates with a lot of people. Sansa’s own story parallels the meta**-narrative disillusionment of the reader, but instead of a bitter awakening, it’s a hopeful one, because ASOIAF is a story about hope despite the darkness. (If you want to read more about this topic, @poorquentyn and @nobodysuspectsthebutterfly have spoken about this at length.)

**I don’t mean “meta” the way fandom uses this word to mean “literary criticism & analysis”. I mean “meta” in terms of being self-referential, or from a perspective above the work itself. GRRM is writing a fantasy story, but his fantasy story is about fantasy (the genre). 

So this resonance, this ~reader avatar~ quality - it makes people want to explore the world with Sansa even more, and so they write fic. 

You might want to pose this question to someone who writes a lot of Sansa fic tho, to get a better answer, because I don’t write a lot of Sansa fic. (I’ve written some, but not very much, and not often.) I typically like … darker … themes in the fanfiction I write. One of the fanfic stories I’ve been telling to myself (and only myself) for over twenty years would have the Purity Police up in arms. I’m so glad tumblr didn’t exist when I was a child cuz y’all would’ve fucked me up. This website isn’t healthy. 

[alphacrone]

and i'll use you as a focal point [bittyrans vampire au]

[Read on AO3]

There was something off about Bitty.

At first, Ransom thought it was the gay thing—but not in a bad way! Ransom was, like, 90% sure he was bi, so the idea of Bitty being gay didn't make him uncomfortable, per se. It was just, they'd never had a guy as small or as feminine on the team before. Things were weird because a lot of the guys clearly didn't know how to act around Bitty. But no one was an outright dick to Bits, except Jack, but he was a dick to everyone in the pre-season, and soon Bitty was just another teammate.

Even then, Ransom couldn't shake the feeling that something was off about Bitty.

Most of the time, the kid was a sackful of sunshine and puppies and rainbows, bustling around the Haus kitchen and making the best fucking pies appear out of thin air. But sometimes...sometimes there was something sharp in his smile, something harder in his gaze.

Bitty let slip in a conversation once that he'd been bullied growing up, and for a while Ransom believed that was the secret he'd come to believe Bitty was hiding. After all, no one as kind and bright as Bitty could harbor anything more sinister than that in his heart, could he?

The thing was, when you were best friends with Adam Birkholtz, you tended to live half your life in fantasy.

And not in a fun, sexual way. Hell, not even in a regular fun way most of the time. Holster consumed media the way most people consumed oxygen: constantly and effortlessly. And he exhaled commentary on it like it was carbon dioxide. Ransom knew far more about Netflix shows and web comics and sci fi novels he'd never even seen than he felt was appropriate or even possible.

So it was really all Holster’s fault when he started noticing the signs.

The first was the most concerning, in the beginning. After a year of team meals and literal buffets of pie in the kitchen, Ransom looked across the dining hall table one morning to realize he had never seen Bitty eat. Bitty baked and cooked constantly, attended every team meal, even made himself plates of food, but he never, ever put anything in his mouth. Ever .

Ignoring his own dirty joke setup, Ransom continued to spiral down this path. Bitty was super thin, he already knew that. Jack was always harping on Bits to eat more protein, to Bitty’s annoyance. But Ransom had met Mrs. Bittle and she was tiny too; he'd just assumed Bits was naturally... bitty.

Now, Ransom wasn't Holster. His first thought wasn't some grand conspiracy theory. Instead, he approached Bitty on a sunny September day, a baggy of kolaches from Svoboda’s in hand. No one could resist Svo’s jalapeño-cheese kolaches. No one.

Except Bitty, apparently. Ransom found him lounging on a blanket by the pond, textbooks open but blatantly tweeting instead of studying. Bitty was stretched out like a cat, languid, and his tank top was rucked up a little to show off the thin, blonde happy trail running down his stomach and disappearing beneath the band of his shorts.

“Bits, bro,” Ransom said, plopping down next to him, shoving one of the books away. “Have some kolaches with me, man. They're fresh.”

Bitty grinned up at him, wide and amused. “Those are klobasneks, you heathen.”

Ransom, who already had one shoved into his mouth, barely managed to say, “But the sign-”

“It's not uncommon to lump the two together,” Bitty continued, tucking his phone back into his pocket and turning to better look at Ransom. “Especially since the Svobodas are from Texas and it's a whole, complicated thing there. But kolaches have fruit filling; klobasneks have sausage or cheese or eggs.”

Ransom was a bit taken aback. Swallowing the half-chewed pastry roughly, he asked, “How did you know these were cheese and not fruit?”

Bitty shrugged. “I could smell them. Plus you and Holtzy love the jalapeño ones.”

Ransom couldn't argue with that. He held out the bag to Bitty, shaking it a little. “Eat me, Bitty!”

Bitty laughed and shook his head. “I'm good, thanks.”

Ransom frowned. Maybe Bitty’s food issue were worse than he thought. “Dude, I don't wanna sound, like, intrusive, but honestly...I have never seen you eat. Is it…? Do you need to talk to someone? You can always talk to me.”

Bitty’s smile turned endeared, and he shook his head. “I can smell garlic in those.”

“Huh?”

“I'm allergic,” Bitty clarified. “I have quite a few food allergies. It's why I have a mini fridge in my room, it's stocked with things that are safe. I really can't eat most of what I bake, but I love baking so much I do it anyway. And I go to team meals to socialize, not eat. I promise I don't have an eating disorder,” he said, touching Ransom’s arm gently. “But thank you for being concerned.”

“Oh.” Ransom frowned, then gasped and tossed the bag of kolaches away from Bitty. “Shit, dude, I'm so sorry-”

“Ransom, it's okay.” Bitty laughed again. “There isn't a whole lotta garlic in there, being near it won't kill me.”

“You've really got a strong nose, eh?” Ransom asked, leaning back on his elbows. Bitty shifted onto his side, and Ransom couldn't help but note the sharp lines of his silhouette, the stark brushstrokes of muscle in his shoulders and arms, the thickness of his thighs in contrast to his small waist. When they were on ice, Ransom was guilty of thinking of Bits as small and fragile; it made him a more ardent d-man, for sure, being on Bitty’s line, always looking out for his bittiest bro. But here, in the reddish sun of early Fall, Bitty was nothing if not a perfect specimen of raw, compact power. It unsettled Ransom, mostly in a totally gay way, but also, a little, in a way that made something small and primal at the back of his mind cower in fear.

“Ha, yeah,” Bitty said, in response to the question Ransom had forgotten he'd asked. “Survival instinct, I guess. You know, because of my allergies,” he added quickly.

“Right,” Ransom said, feeling hot and awkward under the gaze of Bitty’s dark brown eyes. “Allergies.”

When he eventually excused himself to go to class, Ransom didn't even remember to grab the bag of kolaches from the ground. It wasn't as if he had much of an appetite anymore.

After that, it was little things that made Ransom wonder just what Bitty was hiding behind his sunny, southern facade. Though he wasn't proud to admit it, Ransom had started an Excel doc just to keep track of everything, titled ERB and hidden deep in his pirated comics folder on his laptop (labeled PORN, of course, just in case).

Bitty wore sunscreen constantly. He tried to claim it was a southern thing, but Holster had family in Texarkana and claimed that they all had nasty, leathery skin because they literally never wore sunscreen ever and that Bits was full of shit. And he didn't just wear it in the summer—Bitty showed up to morning practices in January smelling like Coppertone. It was one of those quirky things about him. Absolutely no cause for alarm.

But then there was the way he was always cold. Bitty’s hands could rival ice cubes, even in the heat of August or after working out. “Poor circulation,” he'd explained once while drunk. “What can you do?”

Except, it wasn't just his hands. Bitty didn't let people touch him often, but Ransom had held his legs for kegstands and clapped his shoulders and even, once, slapped his bare back in the locker room and every time it had felt like Bitty had just stepped out of an ice bath. That couldn't be normal, could it?

And there were other things: his freakishly good sense of hearing and smell; how silent and still he was when he slept on roadies, barely seeming to breathe; the way he went on and on about his church back home but didn't attend at Samwell. Ransom had them all marked down in his spreadsheet, and on nights when Holster was dead to the world and Ransom sad supposed to be studying, he'd make whole charts of possible ailments, disorders, and lifestyle choices that could add up to the enigma that was Eric Bittle.

A small part of him—the part that had been forced to binge-watch those godawful Twilight movies with Holster and Shitty—whispered that there was another answer, one far simpler than the impossibly rare diseases he’d researched.

But that was the same part of him who believed he was being haunted by two dead sororities girls, the same part of him that got scared when Lardo and Nursey exchanged their favorite urban legends, late at night. There was no fucking way Bitty was a v-

He couldn't even think the word, it was so ridiculous. Bits was just a quirky dude with health problems; there was nothing paranormal about it.

Still, there were times Ransom felt Bitty’s gaze on him, and a chill would involuntarily run down his spine. And only a little in a gay way.

Everything came to a head when Ollie got decked in the face by a puck.

The dipshit had removed his helmet in the middle of drills, so Ransom didn't have that much sympathy for him, but it still looked like it hurt like a bitch. His nose broke with an audible crunch and Ransom saw the blood on the ice before he even realized what had happened.

“Shit, fuck, man, I'm so sorry!” Wicks called, skating over as fast as he could. “Bro, are you okay?”

But Ransom didn't hear Ollie’s answer; he was too distracted by Bitty.

Bitty was staring at Ollie with his mouth agape, eyes large and- not scared, or angry. Shocked seemed a closer description, but didn't feel quite right. Determined, maybe. His hands were shaking in his gloves, and his knees were bent, like he was poised to rush over to Ollie at any second. What was most unsettling, however, was the fact that Bitty didn't appear to be breathing at all.

Before anyone could blink, Bitty was in front of Ollie, half-crouched, eyes black in the weird light of the rink. He opened his mouth, but said nothing, and everyone fell deathly silent in their confusion.

Then Bitty was gone, sprinting from the rink faster than anyone on skates should be capable of. Ransom stared after him, unsure of how to process what he just saw.

“That was weird,” Holster said as Wicks moved to get Ollie off the ice. “Li’l dude can't handle the sight of blood?”

“I guess,” Ransom murmured. “Weird.” 

As soon as practice ended, Ransom rushed to the Haus. Normally he hung out at Founders until class in the mornings, but today he was on a mission. One way or another, Ransom was going to figure out what Bitty was hiding from them, from him.

Without even bothering to check the kitchen, Ransom sprinted up to the second floor, throwing his bag to the side of the hall and knocking on Bitty’s door. “Bits, bro, you okay?” He called. When there was no reply, he pushed open the door.

Nothing could have prepared Ransom for the sight in front of him.

Bitty’s room was a mess. Books had been knocked off his desk and the chair was overturned. His mini fridge was wide open and empty, cool air drifting to brush past Ransom’s shins. Several IV bags and plastic tubs were scattered across the floor, empty but stained pink by something . And Bitty-

Bitty was curled into a ball in the corner, half hidden by the bed, face pressed into his knees. His whole body was shaking like a leaf in the wind. He hadn't even changed out of his under armor.  

“Bits?” Ransom moved around the bed slowly, lowering himself to his knees in front of Bitty. “Hey, are you okay?”

Bitty raised his head from his arms slowly, and Ransom almost screamed. Bitty’s lips were stained red, and protruding over them, just slightly, were two fangs, clear as day. But the fear in Bitty’s eyes kept Ransom from running. He'd never seen Bitty look so small.

“I nearly attacked Ollie,” Bitty whispered, not meeting Ransom’s gaze. “I...I thought I was getting better. I thought I could handle things like that.”

“But you didn't attack him,” Ransom said, trying desperately not to let any hysteria seep into his voice. “You ran away. That's…that's good, isn't it?”

Bitty groaned and covered his face in his hands. “Not good enough. I can't just run away every time there's blood…”

“Is it-?” Ransom paused, grimacing. “Are you-?”

“It’s a rare disorder,” Bitty said quickly, voice monotone. “Porphyria. It’s why I wear sunscreen all the time, why I don’t eat with the team-”

“You don’t have any of the other symptoms though,” Ransom interrupted. “Pain, seizures, vomiting. And it doesn’t make you crave human blood . Bits.”

Bitty looked up at his name, shaking a little with...fear?

“It’s okay if you’re a vampire,” Ransom continued, not missing the way Bitty flinched at the word. “I mean, as long as you’re not killing anyone.”

“Ransom,” Bitty said glibly. “You’re pre-med, you don’t believe in- in monsters .”

Ransom shot him an unimpressed look. “I live with Holster. I’ve seen Twilight. And, like, weird shit happens to me all the time.”

“The ghosts?” Bitty asked softly.

“Yeah, them,” Ransom huffed. “Pretty sure my neighbor growing up was a werewolf. Or maybe just a hairy alcoholic.” At Bitty’s confused and horrified look, he added, “Dude woke up naked in our backyard, like, a hundred times.”

“You can’t tell anyone,” Bitty pleaded. “Please.”

“Of course,” Ransom said, sitting back on his heels. “Not that anyone would believe me…”

“I need to clean up,” Bitty said after a moment, looking around the room. “If MooMaw hears about this…”

“She won’t, because nothing happened,” Ransom said, standing and holding out a hand to Bitty. He took it and rose, slowly. “You just got nauseated at the sight of blood and left practice early. Tomorrow you’ll take a pie down to the coaches and apologize. Bits, it’ll be okay.”

Bitty sighed and began picking up plastic tubs. “If I end up killing someone again, the Council is gonna make me go back home to Georgia and live in the compound. I can’t be out there, or bake for anyone, or even listen to my music. There’s no skating, no hockey, nothing .” He sighed and sat down on the bed, face distraught. “If I go back there I’ll die .”

“Then, we’ll...work on it,” Ransom said with a shrug, feeling a little too much like Jack in this moment. “Somehow.”

Bitty’s lip quirked up at one corner. “Sure. We’ll just run some drills, learn not to murder people. Easy.”

“That’s the spirit,” Ransom said, clapping Bitty on the back. Bitty flinched involuntarily, then let his shoulders droop.

“You’re a good friend,” he said quietly, picking at some dirt under his nail to avoid looking up at Ransom. “And weirdly okay with... all of this .”

Ransom shrugged and picked up a few scattered IV bags. “Got your back, bro.”

Bitty laughed and Ransom’s heart skipped a beat. Definitely in a gay way.

[My writing tag]

[sushigirlfriend]

scarves, hay rides, windy nights !

!!!

scarves: if you could only wear one outfit for the rest of your life what would it be? 

if i truly take the time to answer this question my libra ass will Die...............i can’t decide!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!1111 i have a lot of favorite items of clothing so deciding on one (1) outfit to wear for the rest of my life would literally take me weeks, many pros and cons lists, flow charts, pie charts, etc......... i can’t.......

hay rides: if you could pick absolutely anything to be your form of transportation, what would it be?

hmmmmmmm a car i guess lmao idk what kind tho except a really nice safe sexy one that i look good driving and it’d be cool to have one of those robot cars that can talk, prevent accidents, drive itself when needed, is sentient etc. it can be my companion when i drive cross country by myself sort of like how jarvis is to tony stark

windy nights:if you could go to any concert whose would it be?

would love to see frank ocean live, or daniel caesar, or the goddess beyonce. if i saw beyonce live i think my soul would be cleansed and i would see nirvana at least for a little while tbh.

[pearlescentbirdmom]

tagged by: @jordfast-lokispouse

tag anyone you want to get to know

name: Pearl (no it is not my real name)

nickname: Birdmom

zodiac: aries sun, aries moon, sagittarius ascendant (so my chart says)

hogwarts house: hufflepuff

height: 5′3″ish or approx. 160cm

orientation: queer

fav fruit: grapes, cantaloupe, bananas

fav season: autumn (duh it’s the best lol)

fav book series: I really like Sarah J. Maas’s series A Court of Thorns and Roses

fav fictional character: damn. I’ve got so many thooooo XD. well, my forever love will always be Tony Stark. and I have a thing for Angelina Jolie’s Maleficent. if you want to know more than those two, that’s gonna have to be a long post or discussion all it’s own lol

fav scents: most of my favorite scents are either very sweet or very, uh, rough maybe? or gritty? idk, anyway they include--vanilla, anything with a description like cupcakes/frosting/sugar, cedar wood, leather, scents that mimic diesel fuel,  allspice, pumpkin pie, black cherry things, a blend of essential oil I wear as a personal perfume which is called “woodberry” and is like a combination of cherries and wood scents, my lavender fabric softener, my grandfather’s personal cologne Polo Black, the smell of loose leaf pipe tobacco, certain chewing tobaccos my father used, my mother’s homemade sugar cookies baking in the oven, cinnamon, the smell of burning wood fire, the smell of charcoal and smoked meat, the cool scent of decomposing leaves, damp from rain in the autumn, the heavy, warm smell of fertile soil perfect for gardening, my mother’s favorite perfume, which for the life of me I can’t recall the name of

fav color(s): various shades of blues, purples, and greens (I express my love of pink things on this blog tho)

 fav animals: jellyfish, goats, foxes, cats, dogs, birds, and those toothless sharks you can pet at the aquarium in my area, it gives me inexplicable *feels* to gently touch them and feel them swim against my fingers

fav band/artists: oh jeez, that’s a tough one, there’s so many because I have a wide and eclectic taste in music. I’ll just list some then. AC/DC, Fleetwood Mac, Donna Summer, Panic! At the Disco, Glenn Miller, Ricky Martin, Postmodern Jukebox, Dixie Chicks, Rihanna, Michael Bolton, Fall Out Boy, Queen, Arctic Monkeys, Ying Yang Twins, My Chemical Romance, Vivaldi, Johnny Cash, Elvis Presley, Aretha Franklin, Sungha Jung...I mean I could go on and on really my music taste depends on my mood

coffee, tea, or hot chocolate: depends on where I’m at and what mood I’m in, I love all three *shrugs*

average hours of sleep: *ugly snorting laughter*

number of blankets: not counting sheets? 2

dream trip: [outside my country]--Australia, New Zealand, Spain, Italy, Ireland, Scotland  [inside my country]--Las Vegas, Nevada (I miss it, I only went once as a child, one of only 3 family vacations I’ve taken in my life)  Yellowstone National Park, the state of Alaska, New Orleans, Louisiana, the state of Minnesota (another of the 3 vacation sites I’ve been to) Miami, Florida, the state of Hawaii

last thing I googled: the hours of operation for a local pizza place

how many blogs I follow: for this blog? 261 and counting

how many followers I have: again for this blog 169 and counting

what I usually post about: read my description XD “pink things and pagan shit”

do you get asks regularly: not really, I did on my other blog, but since the move to this blog I��ve lost a few hundred people, I don’t think they realize I moved even tho I put up a notice lol but that’s fine with me

tagging: I’m not one for tagging, tag yourself if you want to play lol

[tshirtfashiontrend]

Avatar's Box Office Record Is Even More Impressive After Avengers: Endgame

Link Buys Now: https://kingteeshops.com/avatars-box-office-record-is-even-more-impressive-after-avengers-endgame/

Avatar's Box Office Record Is Even More Impressive After Avengers: Endgame

Avatar’s Box Office Record Is Even More Impressive After Avengers: Endgame

There has not been a movie event in our lifetimes quite like Avengers: Endgame. No amount of pie-in-the-sky box office forecasting or broken pre-sales records could have prepared the industry or us for the opening weekend of Marvel’s culmination film. By the time all the money was counted on Monday morning, Avengers: Endgame had obliterated the domestic opening weekend box office record by nearly $100 million and left a sea of exhausted movie theater employees in its wake.

Avengers: Endgame shot off like a rocket and the domestic opening weekend record was just the first major victim to fall to Marvel’s decade-in-the-making achievement. One by one, the Russo Brothers film climbed the box office charts, breaking records and felling many other massive movies, including those of the MCU, on its way to the top. Records are made to be broken, and like a blow from Stormbreaker, Endgame has done plenty of breaking.

But there is one record in particular left to break. One record that cements a movie as the biggest ever and the all-time box office champ. One film that stands alone. That record is for the worldwide box office gross, and it belongs to James Cameron’s Avatar.

After an opening weekend that got it over 40% of the way there, and after it sunk James Cameron’s other box office stalwart Titanic, it seemed to many like it was a matter of ‘if’, not ‘when’ Avengers: Endgame would break Avatar’s record. That inevitability might have been premature though.

Avengers: Endgame currently sits at $2.713 billion worldwide, but Forbes’ Scott Mendelsohn does not see it having enough juice to make it to the $2.788 billion and beyond needed to match Avatar and claim the worldwide box office crown. Instead, he predicts that it will top out at a staggering, but still second-place, total $2.766 billion.

It is still a monumental achievement and no one involved has anything to hang their heads over if the film has to ‘settle’ for being 2nd to James Cameron’s 2009 film. Yet, regardless of whether the MCU film ultimately claims the top spot on the worldwide charts or comes up just short, Avatar’s box office record is even more impressive after Avengers: Endgame.

I think we sometimes hand wave Avatar’s record and take it for granted because it has become a constant in our minds. We all know that Avatar is the biggest movie of all time, but the abstract nature of that fact has made it seem at times less like something that the film achieved and more like something that just is. That detracts from how impressive its run really was.

First, it must be addressed how long Avatar’s record has lasted. Avatar was released in December of 2009 and since it ended Titanic’s reign at the top, it has never once been so much as threatened until Avengers: Endgame. That’s nearly a decade of dominance where the biggest films Hollywood could muster all failed to even sniff Avatar’s record.

The Na’vi held off the reboot of the Jurassic Park franchise, a franchise whose original 1993 film once held the worldwide record before Titanic. The end of Harry Potter, the animated phenomenon Frozen and the MCU’s finest and biggest films all fell short. Even the return of Star Wars, an incredible cultural and cinematic moment, with Star Wars: The Force Awakens, wasn’t enough.

Hollywood may have become more myopically focused on tentpole blockbusters since 2009, but in that time it still couldn’t craft one that could to bring down Toruk Makto. And if Avengers: Endgame too falls short, Avatar’s long reign will continue on.

Domestically, Avengers: Endgame beat Avatar and currently sits at $815.7 million according to Box Office Mojo. That makes it the second film, after Star Wars: The Force Awakens (which made $936.7 million domestically, a record Endgame definitely won’t be beating) to best Avatar’s $760.5 million take.

Consider this though: Avatar got to $760.5 million domestically and that current Number 3 spot with a max domestic theater count of 3,461. At the height of its run Avengers: Endgame enjoyed a theater count of 4,662. That’s over 1,200 more theaters than Avatar had to achieve what it did. And according to the National Association of Theater Owners, the average U.S. ticket price was $7.50 in 2009 versus $9.11 last year.

Inflation means that movie tickets were less in 2009, which would be to Avatar’s benefit, but James Cameron’s movie was also the first, and arguably last, 3D event, and thus demanded premium ticket prices from audiences wanting the full experience. So to be fair, that issue gets a bit financially muddled. And domestically, when adjusted for inflation, the movie that sold the most tickets and remains and will forever remain the GOAT is Gone With the Wind.

Also, while Endgame started out with a massive bang at the box office that got it a lot of its haul very quickly, it also burned out faster. Whereas Avatar was a slow burn at the box office, with small percentage drops week to week that saw it methodically build its total. Avatar did also have a special edition re-release in the summer of 2010 that added $10.74 million domestically to its final tally.

Endgame debuted with a stunning $357.1 million and held on to the top spot on the domestic charts for 3 weeks. Avatar didn’t even crack $100 million opening weekend, making $77 million. That puts it in 97th place for opening weekends. But it stayed in first place for seven straight weeks and didn’t leave the top 10 until week 15. That’s crazy, and internationally Avatar’s accomplishments are just as impressive.

Avengers: Endgame has opened to a record $866.5 million overseas and to date has made $1.897 billion. Compare that with Avatar, which opened to a meager $164.5 million and went on to make $2.029 billion. And although blockbusters often make a huge chunk of their gross internationally, the foreign box office of 2009 wasn’t what it is today.

We often cite the ever-growing importance of the China market for Hollywood films, but Avatar only made $204.1 million there. That’s because back then China only had less than 5,000 movie theater screens. Today the Middle Kingdom has around 60,000 according to The Washington Post. That incredible market growth has given blockbusters like Avengers: Endgame greater opportunity to make money. Endgame did just that, with $614.3 million in China so far, triple what Avatar did.

More screens equals more money, and because it played on fewer screens worldwide, Avatar had to do more with less, which makes the fact that it is still Number 1, whether it stays that way or not, all the more impressive.

Those are all just quantitative measures though and when you consider the qualitative factors of Avengers: Endgame and Avatar, the latter’s worldwide record is even more admirable.

While we sing the praises of Avatar’s record, it must be said that for all the factors like inflation and theater count, James Cameron’s film did have some distinct advantages that Avengers: Endgame did not enjoy. The most obvious of those is that Avatar released in December of 2009, years before studios decided on a year-round blockbuster season. That’s something Avatar arguably started, Disney continued with Star Wars and will soon alternate holiday seasons between Star Wars movies and the Avatar sequels.

In the weeks and months that followed Avatar’s release, Sherlock Holmes, The Book of Eli, The Wolfman, Percy Jackson & The Olympians: The Lightning Thief and Dear John were released. It wasn’t really until March of 2010 when a true blockbuster arrived in the form of Alice in Wonderland. Endgame was given no such quarter, with Detective Pikachu, John Wick: Chapter 3 – Parabellum, Aladdin and Godzilla: King of the Monsters all following in the month or so after its release.

Nevertheless, despite its advantageous release month, Avatar still had more work to do than Endgame to reach the heights it did. Avatar was an original movie, from the filmmaker who made Titanic sure, but it had no real star power beyond James Cameron and Sigourney Weaver in a supporting role. We’ve seen other original sci-fi blockbusters from name filmmakers and some with even more star power fail to launch, and Avatar could have easily gone the way of Jupiter Ascending.

It had to succeed by selling audiences through its marketing and in the theater, and it did so with fantastic word of mouth and repeat viewings from audiences that fell in love with the spectacle of the film and wanted to live in Pandora.

Conversely, Avengers: Endgame was always guaranteed to be huge. Before we saw the first trailer, I’d say it had a good chance to snag the opening weekend record. That’s because it was the culmination of a franchise and characters audiences have invested in for over a decade. Everyone had already made up their minds to see it a long time ago.

It has the powerful Marvel branding and is the biggest film in the MCU, which is the biggest franchise in movie history. Those factors made Avengers: Endgame a true monoculture event that everyone wanted to be a part of, and the frenzy opening weekend is testament to that.

So the fact that it had all that going for it and it still might not surpass Avatar, and if it does it will be close, throws into stark relief just how impressive what Avatar did was. That’s not to take anything away from Avengers: Endgame, which has been a monumental achievement and no matter what film holds the top spot, Disney is the winner in all of this with Fox’s Avatar now under its umbrella.

That Avatar has finally been challenged though shows just how much it takes to beat it and looks to be a truly herculean and perhaps Sisyphean task. The question then becomes, if something like Marvel’s biggest film can’t beat it, can anything?

[kingteeshops]

Avatar's Box Office Record Is Even More Impressive After Avengers: Endgame

Link Buys Now: https://kingteeshops.com/avatars-box-office-record-is-even-more-impressive-after-avengers-endgame/

Avatar's Box Office Record Is Even More Impressive After Avengers: Endgame

Avatar’s Box Office Record Is Even More Impressive After Avengers: Endgame

There has not been a movie event in our lifetimes quite like Avengers: Endgame. No amount of pie-in-the-sky box office forecasting or broken pre-sales records could have prepared the industry or us for the opening weekend of Marvel’s culmination film. By the time all the money was counted on Monday morning, Avengers: Endgame had obliterated the domestic opening weekend box office record by nearly $100 million and left a sea of exhausted movie theater employees in its wake.

Avengers: Endgame shot off like a rocket and the domestic opening weekend record was just the first major victim to fall to Marvel’s decade-in-the-making achievement. One by one, the Russo Brothers film climbed the box office charts, breaking records and felling many other massive movies, including those of the MCU, on its way to the top. Records are made to be broken, and like a blow from Stormbreaker, Endgame has done plenty of breaking.

But there is one record in particular left to break. One record that cements a movie as the biggest ever and the all-time box office champ. One film that stands alone. That record is for the worldwide box office gross, and it belongs to James Cameron’s Avatar.

After an opening weekend that got it over 40% of the way there, and after it sunk James Cameron’s other box office stalwart Titanic, it seemed to many like it was a matter of ‘if’, not ‘when’ Avengers: Endgame would break Avatar’s record. That inevitability might have been premature though.

Avengers: Endgame currently sits at $2.713 billion worldwide, but Forbes’ Scott Mendelsohn does not see it having enough juice to make it to the $2.788 billion and beyond needed to match Avatar and claim the worldwide box office crown. Instead, he predicts that it will top out at a staggering, but still second-place, total $2.766 billion.

It is still a monumental achievement and no one involved has anything to hang their heads over if the film has to ‘settle’ for being 2nd to James Cameron’s 2009 film. Yet, regardless of whether the MCU film ultimately claims the top spot on the worldwide charts or comes up just short, Avatar’s box office record is even more impressive after Avengers: Endgame.

I think we sometimes hand wave Avatar’s record and take it for granted because it has become a constant in our minds. We all know that Avatar is the biggest movie of all time, but the abstract nature of that fact has made it seem at times less like something that the film achieved and more like something that just is. That detracts from how impressive its run really was.

First, it must be addressed how long Avatar’s record has lasted. Avatar was released in December of 2009 and since it ended Titanic’s reign at the top, it has never once been so much as threatened until Avengers: Endgame. That’s nearly a decade of dominance where the biggest films Hollywood could muster all failed to even sniff Avatar’s record.

The Na’vi held off the reboot of the Jurassic Park franchise, a franchise whose original 1993 film once held the worldwide record before Titanic. The end of Harry Potter, the animated phenomenon Frozen and the MCU’s finest and biggest films all fell short. Even the return of Star Wars, an incredible cultural and cinematic moment, with Star Wars: The Force Awakens, wasn’t enough.

Hollywood may have become more myopically focused on tentpole blockbusters since 2009, but in that time it still couldn’t craft one that could to bring down Toruk Makto. And if Avengers: Endgame too falls short, Avatar’s long reign will continue on.

Domestically, Avengers: Endgame beat Avatar and currently sits at $815.7 million according to Box Office Mojo. That makes it the second film, after Star Wars: The Force Awakens (which made $936.7 million domestically, a record Endgame definitely won’t be beating) to best Avatar’s $760.5 million take.

Consider this though: Avatar got to $760.5 million domestically and that current Number 3 spot with a max domestic theater count of 3,461. At the height of its run Avengers: Endgame enjoyed a theater count of 4,662. That’s over 1,200 more theaters than Avatar had to achieve what it did. And according to the National Association of Theater Owners, the average U.S. ticket price was $7.50 in 2009 versus $9.11 last year.

Inflation means that movie tickets were less in 2009, which would be to Avatar’s benefit, but James Cameron’s movie was also the first, and arguably last, 3D event, and thus demanded premium ticket prices from audiences wanting the full experience. So to be fair, that issue gets a bit financially muddled. And domestically, when adjusted for inflation, the movie that sold the most tickets and remains and will forever remain the GOAT is Gone With the Wind.

Also, while Endgame started out with a massive bang at the box office that got it a lot of its haul very quickly, it also burned out faster. Whereas Avatar was a slow burn at the box office, with small percentage drops week to week that saw it methodically build its total. Avatar did also have a special edition re-release in the summer of 2010 that added $10.74 million domestically to its final tally.

Endgame debuted with a stunning $357.1 million and held on to the top spot on the domestic charts for 3 weeks. Avatar didn’t even crack $100 million opening weekend, making $77 million. That puts it in 97th place for opening weekends. But it stayed in first place for seven straight weeks and didn’t leave the top 10 until week 15. That’s crazy, and internationally Avatar’s accomplishments are just as impressive.

Avengers: Endgame has opened to a record $866.5 million overseas and to date has made $1.897 billion. Compare that with Avatar, which opened to a meager $164.5 million and went on to make $2.029 billion. And although blockbusters often make a huge chunk of their gross internationally, the foreign box office of 2009 wasn’t what it is today.

We often cite the ever-growing importance of the China market for Hollywood films, but Avatar only made $204.1 million there. That’s because back then China only had less than 5,000 movie theater screens. Today the Middle Kingdom has around 60,000 according to The Washington Post. That incredible market growth has given blockbusters like Avengers: Endgame greater opportunity to make money. Endgame did just that, with $614.3 million in China so far, triple what Avatar did.

More screens equals more money, and because it played on fewer screens worldwide, Avatar had to do more with less, which makes the fact that it is still Number 1, whether it stays that way or not, all the more impressive.

Those are all just quantitative measures though and when you consider the qualitative factors of Avengers: Endgame and Avatar, the latter’s worldwide record is even more admirable.

While we sing the praises of Avatar’s record, it must be said that for all the factors like inflation and theater count, James Cameron’s film did have some distinct advantages that Avengers: Endgame did not enjoy. The most obvious of those is that Avatar released in December of 2009, years before studios decided on a year-round blockbuster season. That’s something Avatar arguably started, Disney continued with Star Wars and will soon alternate holiday seasons between Star Wars movies and the Avatar sequels.

In the weeks and months that followed Avatar’s release, Sherlock Holmes, The Book of Eli, The Wolfman, Percy Jackson & The Olympians: The Lightning Thief and Dear John were released. It wasn’t really until March of 2010 when a true blockbuster arrived in the form of Alice in Wonderland. Endgame was given no such quarter, with Detective Pikachu, John Wick: Chapter 3 – Parabellum, Aladdin and Godzilla: King of the Monsters all following in the month or so after its release.

Nevertheless, despite its advantageous release month, Avatar still had more work to do than Endgame to reach the heights it did. Avatar was an original movie, from the filmmaker who made Titanic sure, but it had no real star power beyond James Cameron and Sigourney Weaver in a supporting role. We’ve seen other original sci-fi blockbusters from name filmmakers and some with even more star power fail to launch, and Avatar could have easily gone the way of Jupiter Ascending.

It had to succeed by selling audiences through its marketing and in the theater, and it did so with fantastic word of mouth and repeat viewings from audiences that fell in love with the spectacle of the film and wanted to live in Pandora.

Conversely, Avengers: Endgame was always guaranteed to be huge. Before we saw the first trailer, I’d say it had a good chance to snag the opening weekend record. That’s because it was the culmination of a franchise and characters audiences have invested in for over a decade. Everyone had already made up their minds to see it a long time ago.

It has the powerful Marvel branding and is the biggest film in the MCU, which is the biggest franchise in movie history. Those factors made Avengers: Endgame a true monoculture event that everyone wanted to be a part of, and the frenzy opening weekend is testament to that.

So the fact that it had all that going for it and it still might not surpass Avatar, and if it does it will be close, throws into stark relief just how impressive what Avatar did was. That’s not to take anything away from Avengers: Endgame, which has been a monumental achievement and no matter what film holds the top spot, Disney is the winner in all of this with Fox’s Avatar now under its umbrella.

That Avatar has finally been challenged though shows just how much it takes to beat it and looks to be a truly herculean and perhaps Sisyphean task. The question then becomes, if something like Marvel’s biggest film can’t beat it, can anything?

[markwatkinsconsumerguide]

Consumer Guide / No.75 / with singer-songwriter, Bronwen Exter.

MW : Introduce me to the band…

BE : I'll list them in order of how long we've been playing music together:

Jennifer Middaugh - Vocal harmonies. Before a song is even done I know I can't sing it without her. Sometimes I write harmony lines explicitly, and sometimes she comes up with them. Jen is a BFF, I always let her order the sushi because she knows how to do so in a completely decadent way. She can sing circles around me. We met around 2000 at the Cosmic Joke Collective in NYC hosted by our Parisian friend, Mary Noelle Dana, or maybe at the off Broadway show De La Guarda. Our first collaboration was ‘Willow Weep For Me’. We ducked off at a loft party on the Lower East Side to put it together as a surprise that turned out to be an unforgettable collaboration, still going strong.

Michael Stark - Piano and Organ. In 2009, Jen and Mike and I spent a whole July night until daybreak making a recording of my song, ‘Junkyard’. Around dawn, by the time we were using beer bottle percussion and heavy chains for ambiance on the track, all the files were lost. It was so tragically funny we've been playing together ever since. Mike has all the charts to all my songs on the same old ragged pieces of paper. I make up chords and he names them and interprets them for everyone else. He knows my music inside and out, in some cases better than I do.

Matthew Saccuccimorano - Drums. Matt produced my second record, ‘Junkyard’, when we were a trio with a different drummer, (beloved Dana Billings). Matt is grouchy and loveable. He has the coolest family and smartest, most talented kids in the world. When Dana got too busy with another band he is in, I was really excited for the silver lining of bringing Matt into the band. He loves to rehearse, and he brings a production sensibility to rehearsals. In return, I sometimes bring him cookies. We both love loud drums, though we have completely different definitions of what loud drums are.

John Young - Electric and Upright Bass. Jen and I have also known John for almost 20 years. He plays in the cult NYC band Spottiswoode and His Enemies, one of our all time favorite acts and influences. John loves coffee, and John is great at talking. He definitely comes across as extremely smart, and I suspect he actually is.

Jason Shegogue - Guitar and Lap Steel. As Matt says, every single thing Jason plays sounds like a record. Jason collects old gear and never makes fun of my guitar playing. He is awfully nurturing, for being so good.

Venissa Santi - Vocal harmonies. Venissa learned two full sets of Jen's parts last spring because of a late conflict Jen had with our local release show, which speaks to her chops. Like Jen, she sings jazz in her own band. Once that show was done, once she had written her own parts to some new songs, once we heard the way we could all do three part harmonies, once we realized how fun she is in a band, once we realized splitting a couple hundred bucks seven ways is just about like splitting it six and nobody really cares anyway, she had to stay.

MW : Tell me about your new album…

BE : We recorded ‘Snakeskin, There’ at Old Soul Studios in Catskill, NY, where I made my first record ‘Elevator Ride’ in 2005. Kenny Siegal produced and recorded. It is available digitally on all the usual places, and physically through CD Baby or directly from me, in person.

The title comes from a lyric in track 3: ‘The Creature That You Knew’. The song is about a snake or, rather, the fact that I kept finding a snakeskin at my doorstep and it kind of freaked me out, but then I took inspiration thinking about metamorphosis and personal growth, how much better I liked myself living in a little house in the middle of nowhere than I had when I lived in NYC. At the same time, the bridge of the song is nostalgic for Paris musically and lyrically, and all the trappings of a more cosmopolitan life, so there's something unresolved in it.

The lyrics on this record come roughly half from dreams and half from stark life in Upstate NY, married and a new mom. There was a rawness to the time I wrote it, a lot of raw love. It's not an album of lullabies - I've also been called dreamy in the past, and I like to think that the dreaminess of these songs is more like when you wake up, can't shake it, and go, what the F was that?!

There are a couple singles, too - ‘Shapeshifter’ and ‘The Chase’, which is a three minute rock song. I wrote ‘The Chase’ with my wife Rachel on a picnic blanket. It's about the lure of the bad ex we all have.

MW : From your website, you seem to like PIE CHARTS?!  What were your best subjects at school, and how did you actually get on with mathematics?!!

BE : I am terrible at math. I love history, and I love literature. The pie charts were a joke, but there’s way too little opportunity to not take yourself seriously promoting music, so I went with it.

I was fascinated with the idea of how transparent my songwriting could get if I challenged myself to be more clear and specific, thematically. Along the same lines as trying not to write songs in A minor, when I made the pie charts I was trying to check myself for cliches. The charts represent the songwriting before the current release (when I realized I made mention of bones too often). The batch of songs before that were too frequently set on a road in America. Making pie charts has nothing to do with being good at math - I enjoy basic math from time to time, for sure, but that's it. 

My best subject in school was politics. I am endlessly fascinated with how power works, the intersection between legal and social change, theory and practice. I will never get over reading history - how human and flawed, multilayered, sordid and utterly engaging it is ; and literature is in its own category. The writers and poets I love are everything to me.  

MW : Do you have any superstitions?

BE : I try not to have, so no, not that I can think of. Knock on wood! I think I am superstitious about having superstitions. I worry that if I think that way, bad things will happen as a result. I try to operate with a balance of reason and faith. The world is scary enough without being superstitious.

MW : What’s the best slice of luck you’ve had so far?

BE: Two sons, hands down.

MW :  What’s downtown Ithaca, NY usually like in Winter?

BE : Winter lasts about six months and downtown gets deserted. There is already a foot of snow outside and it’s only mid-November, so it looks like winter came a month early this year and in my soul it has already lost its charm. 

I wrote ‘In My Room’, track #4 on the new record, looking out at my blooming crab-apple tree getting covered in a massive snowstorm in April. For six months, downtown Ithaca and its people try to make the best of it. The rest of the year we've got it made, humidity notwithstanding. 

This city rests on the land of the Cayuga, and any season reveals this land's utter beauty and majesty - glacial hills and lakes and gorges. A cold six months requires resilience and builds character, but it is often spectacularly beautiful. A story about last winter: my band played a winter residency at our favorite club downtown, Casita del Polaris, and each installment featured a calamity: my lost voice, the mayor telling everyone to stay off the roads, our bass player breaking his leg, etc. I dragged myself to each show, because we had rehearsed our faces off to learn my whole catalog - three two-hour, all original different sets of music, none of which with songs from the new record. It felt crazy to go out in the cold, and I think the shows were on Thursdays, too.

Here’s the fundamental thing I learned last year about downtown Ithaca in winter : when you show up for art, throw energy into it with abandon for no good reason other than trying to make music for the sake of the sound, people show up to bear witness. I loved that residency. 

MW : How is it for arts & culture?

BE : Ithaca has lovely, thriving, collaborative, multiple arts scenes - independent, national, underground, highbrow, it’s a good little town for being so isolated. Ithaca is a college town, so if you are willing to brave that scene you can absorb the arts and culture it brings. When I was growing up I was always up on those hills - I got to meet Vladimir Ashkenazi, and Mstislav Rostropovich - I played violin and sang in the Children's choir. 

When I moved back to town ten years ago, I was blown away by all the bands and songwriters. It's a small enough city that I now consider many of the people I admired good friends and collaborators ; and there is a whole other layer of independent, younger artists through the “Ithaca Underground” that will always be cooler than me - for that I am thankful. 

Ithaca is great in how these layers tend to cross pollinate, too. I can think of lots of examples. 

MW : What was the last book, cd, film you bought/saw?

BE : With two small kids we really don’t get out much, but the last movie I saw in the theater was ‘Black Panther’ and damn that was good. I read all the time, currently ‘Team of Rivals’ about Abraham Lincoln.

At home we are collecting records - other than supporting musician friends and collaborators, the last record I loved completely was ‘Capacity’ by Big Thief.

MW : How will you / do you (usually) celebrate Christmas?

BE : With family, as you might expect, but my favorite holidays are Thanksgiving and the Winter Solstice. I love remembering all the descant lines to all my favorite Christmas carols, so if there is an opportunity to attend a midnight mass and sing those, I do. I appreciate this time of year as alternately decadent and reflective.

MW :  Plans for 2019?

BE: Keep writing songs and other things - poems, essays, whatever. I am in a steady, long-game phase--raising small children, trying to do so with love and integrity. I keep the things that sustain me going, including creativity, but I am also going underground a bit after the release of this record. I am listening for what songs want to be written next, eager to hear them.

http://www.bronwenexter.com/

© Mark Watkins / November 2018

[fatahruarklive-blog]

1994-10-31: Phish, Glens Falls Civic Center, Glens Falls, NY

OK...now we’re getting good. If you read my last post about Phish (at Red Rocks) you know that I was really getting into these guys at this point.

I went up to this show with my best buddy Brett. We made a pit stop in NYC on the way up from NJ and made a few wrong turns in NYC so we got a little behind on time.

We hauled ass up the NY Thruway and pulled into Glens Falls right around 9:30 PM. We had an extra ticket from our friend Sean who had backed out the day before (big mistake). Sold it to a lucky wook outside (that dude was fucking psyched).

We got into the venue just as they started playing (Frankenstein was the opener). We made our way down to the floor remember rolling past all the tapers. I think this was the show where I decided I needed to be in there. This would be the last Phish show I didn’t record myself.

The show, if you don’t know, was legendary. The first set was off the charts. Still to this day the best first set I’ve seen them do. I remember in between the first set and the “costume set” that some people pulled the wood off the floor to expose the ice which was cool (no pun intended). I think eventually security shut that down, but for a while people were having a good time on the ice. 

Just before the second set started I recall going to take a wiz. We got back to the floor right around when the second set started. There was no Phish Bill at that time (that I know about) so no one had any idea what they were going to do for this set. The musical costume was a cover of a full album that fans had voted on by mailing in post cards to the band (remember this was pre-internet). They tricked us with the start of Dark Side of The Moon before going into The Beatles White Album. Now, of course, I liked the Beatles (who didn’t), but I do have to say I didn’t really like this pick for two reasons, first...not my favorite Beatles album, and second...TOO LONG. I still liked it, but was mostly disappointed. 

Third set was also a monster. Great setlist with amazing playing. Overall I still think this is the best Phish show I’ve seen in person.

I was 24 years old for this show and I can tell you I would not be doing what we did after this show today. After the show ended (I’m guessing around 1am), we continued to drive up to Killington (another 1.5 hours). We slept in the parking lot and then went skiing the next day! The white ribbon of death...Killington version. Side note: I moved to Killington a few weeks after this and worked there for the winter. Great times.

Setlist:

SET 1: Frankenstein, Sparkle > Simple > Divided Sky , Harpua -> The Vibration of Life -> Harpua[1], Julius > The Horse > Silent in the Morning > Reba , Golgi Apparatus

SET 2: Back in the U.S.S.R.[2] > Dear Prudence[2], Glass Onion[3] > Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da[2], Wild Honey Pie[2], The Continuing Story of Bungalow Bill[2], While My Guitar Gently Weeps[2], Happiness Is a Warm Gun[2], Martha My Dear[2], I'm So Tired[2], Blackbird[2], Piggies, Rocky Raccoon[2] > Don't Pass Me By[2], Why Don't We Do It in the Road?[2], I Will[2],Julia[2], Birthday[4], Yer Blues[2], Mother Nature's Son[2], Everybody's Got Something to Hide Except Me and My Monkey[2], Sexy Sadie[2], Helter Skelter[5], Long Long Long[2],Revolution 1[2], Honey Pie[6], Savoy Truffle[2], Cry Baby Cry[7] -> Revolution 9[8]

SET 3: David Bowie, Bouncing Around the Room, Slave to the Traffic Light > Rift > Sleeping Monkey > Poor Heart, Run Like an Antelope

ENCORE: Amazing Grace, Costume Contest, The Squirming Coil

[1] Vibration of Death; "The Vibration of Death is gone" replaced the usual "The storm is gone."

[2] Phish debut.

[3] Phish debut; lyrics changed to "I told you 'bout Guyute the pig."

[4] Phish debut; instrumental.

[5] Phish debut; ended with band singing "I've got blisters on my fingers" a cappella to the tune of Back In My Hometown.

[6] Phish debut; lyrics changed to reference "Cactus."

[7] Phish debut. Fish on vacuum.

[8] Phish debut. He Ent to the Bog was played on a tape in the background. Fish on vacuum.

Harpua included the Vibrations of Life and Death. Jimmy decided to put on his favorite album Barney's Greatest Hits, but turned his turntable on the wrong way and started playing it backwards. Fish then proceeded to sing a verse of War Pigs. Trey subsequently quoted I Love You (a.k.a. the theme to Barney & Friends) before Harpua resumed. Poster was swallowed up into the earth by the Vibration of Death. "The Vibration of Death is gone" replaced the usual "The storm is gone." Prior to the Vibration of Life, Wilson was teased and quoted. A Pink Floyd Dark Side of the Moon tease (the heartbeats from Speak to Me) was pumped through the P.A. at the beginning of the second set. The second set "musical costume" was The Beatles' The Beatles (also known as The White Album) and was selected via fan vote. All of the White Album songs, other than Piggies, were Phish debuts, although Ob La Di, Ob La Da had been jammed or teased on many occasions. Glass Onion's lyrics were changed to "I told you 'bout Guyute the pig." Piggies was played for the first time since November 14, 1985 (875 shows). HYHU was teased prior to Why Don't We Do It in the Road. Birthday wasn’t sung; Page and Mike noodled a bit while Fish presented a birthday cake to Brad Sands, who accepted it while wearing a Jon Fishman dress. Helter Skelter ended with the band singing "I've got blisters on my fingers" a cappella to the tune of Back In My Hometown. Honey Pie's lyrics were changed to reference "Cactus." Cry Baby Cry ended with Fish on vacuum with Revolution 9 segueing out of the vacuum solo. The background tape playing along with Revolution 9 was Mike’s composition He Ent to the Bog from Phish’s White Tape. The song ended with Fish stark naked and running around while the band blew bubbles and waved. Good Night was taped from the album and closed the second set. The third set began with a Custard Pie tease, while Bowie contained a Gilligan's Island theme tease from Mike and Antelope's intro contained a Stash tease from Trey. The Costume Contest contained a "Charge!" tease from Page. This show was officially released as Live Phish 13. The soundcheck's Jam was released as an iTunes bonus track called "Glen Falls Soundcheck Jam" and contained a Frankenstein tease from Mike and a May The Force Be With You (The Force Theme from Star Wars) tease from Trey. The Poor Heart and Dog Log in the soundcheck were slow versions.

Here’s the recording from this show. Note, the SBD is also available from LivePhish.

Phish.in

[kingteeshops]

Avatar's Box Office Record Is Even More Impressive After Avengers: Endgame

Link Buys Now: https://kingteeshops.com/avatars-box-office-record-is-even-more-impressive-after-avengers-endgame/

Avatar's Box Office Record Is Even More Impressive After Avengers: Endgame

Avatar’s Box Office Record Is Even More Impressive After Avengers: Endgame

There has not been a movie event in our lifetimes quite like Avengers: Endgame. No amount of pie-in-the-sky box office forecasting or broken pre-sales records could have prepared the industry or us for the opening weekend of Marvel’s culmination film. By the time all the money was counted on Monday morning, Avengers: Endgame had obliterated the domestic opening weekend box office record by nearly $100 million and left a sea of exhausted movie theater employees in its wake.

Avengers: Endgame shot off like a rocket and the domestic opening weekend record was just the first major victim to fall to Marvel’s decade-in-the-making achievement. One by one, the Russo Brothers film climbed the box office charts, breaking records and felling many other massive movies, including those of the MCU, on its way to the top. Records are made to be broken, and like a blow from Stormbreaker, Endgame has done plenty of breaking.

But there is one record in particular left to break. One record that cements a movie as the biggest ever and the all-time box office champ. One film that stands alone. That record is for the worldwide box office gross, and it belongs to James Cameron’s Avatar.

After an opening weekend that got it over 40% of the way there, and after it sunk James Cameron’s other box office stalwart Titanic, it seemed to many like it was a matter of ‘if’, not ‘when’ Avengers: Endgame would break Avatar’s record. That inevitability might have been premature though.

Avengers: Endgame currently sits at $2.713 billion worldwide, but Forbes’ Scott Mendelsohn does not see it having enough juice to make it to the $2.788 billion and beyond needed to match Avatar and claim the worldwide box office crown. Instead, he predicts that it will top out at a staggering, but still second-place, total $2.766 billion.

It is still a monumental achievement and no one involved has anything to hang their heads over if the film has to ‘settle’ for being 2nd to James Cameron’s 2009 film. Yet, regardless of whether the MCU film ultimately claims the top spot on the worldwide charts or comes up just short, Avatar’s box office record is even more impressive after Avengers: Endgame.

I think we sometimes hand wave Avatar’s record and take it for granted because it has become a constant in our minds. We all know that Avatar is the biggest movie of all time, but the abstract nature of that fact has made it seem at times less like something that the film achieved and more like something that just is. That detracts from how impressive its run really was.

First, it must be addressed how long Avatar’s record has lasted. Avatar was released in December of 2009 and since it ended Titanic’s reign at the top, it has never once been so much as threatened until Avengers: Endgame. That’s nearly a decade of dominance where the biggest films Hollywood could muster all failed to even sniff Avatar’s record.

The Na’vi held off the reboot of the Jurassic Park franchise, a franchise whose original 1993 film once held the worldwide record before Titanic. The end of Harry Potter, the animated phenomenon Frozen and the MCU’s finest and biggest films all fell short. Even the return of Star Wars, an incredible cultural and cinematic moment, with Star Wars: The Force Awakens, wasn’t enough.

Hollywood may have become more myopically focused on tentpole blockbusters since 2009, but in that time it still couldn’t craft one that could to bring down Toruk Makto. And if Avengers: Endgame too falls short, Avatar’s long reign will continue on.

Domestically, Avengers: Endgame beat Avatar and currently sits at $815.7 million according to Box Office Mojo. That makes it the second film, after Star Wars: The Force Awakens (which made $936.7 million domestically, a record Endgame definitely won’t be beating) to best Avatar’s $760.5 million take.

Consider this though: Avatar got to $760.5 million domestically and that current Number 3 spot with a max domestic theater count of 3,461. At the height of its run Avengers: Endgame enjoyed a theater count of 4,662. That’s over 1,200 more theaters than Avatar had to achieve what it did. And according to the National Association of Theater Owners, the average U.S. ticket price was $7.50 in 2009 versus $9.11 last year.

Inflation means that movie tickets were less in 2009, which would be to Avatar’s benefit, but James Cameron’s movie was also the first, and arguably last, 3D event, and thus demanded premium ticket prices from audiences wanting the full experience. So to be fair, that issue gets a bit financially muddled. And domestically, when adjusted for inflation, the movie that sold the most tickets and remains and will forever remain the GOAT is Gone With the Wind.

Also, while Endgame started out with a massive bang at the box office that got it a lot of its haul very quickly, it also burned out faster. Whereas Avatar was a slow burn at the box office, with small percentage drops week to week that saw it methodically build its total. Avatar did also have a special edition re-release in the summer of 2010 that added $10.74 million domestically to its final tally.

Endgame debuted with a stunning $357.1 million and held on to the top spot on the domestic charts for 3 weeks. Avatar didn’t even crack $100 million opening weekend, making $77 million. That puts it in 97th place for opening weekends. But it stayed in first place for seven straight weeks and didn’t leave the top 10 until week 15. That’s crazy, and internationally Avatar’s accomplishments are just as impressive.

Avengers: Endgame has opened to a record $866.5 million overseas and to date has made $1.897 billion. Compare that with Avatar, which opened to a meager $164.5 million and went on to make $2.029 billion. And although blockbusters often make a huge chunk of their gross internationally, the foreign box office of 2009 wasn’t what it is today.

We often cite the ever-growing importance of the China market for Hollywood films, but Avatar only made $204.1 million there. That’s because back then China only had less than 5,000 movie theater screens. Today the Middle Kingdom has around 60,000 according to The Washington Post. That incredible market growth has given blockbusters like Avengers: Endgame greater opportunity to make money. Endgame did just that, with $614.3 million in China so far, triple what Avatar did.

More screens equals more money, and because it played on fewer screens worldwide, Avatar had to do more with less, which makes the fact that it is still Number 1, whether it stays that way or not, all the more impressive.

Those are all just quantitative measures though and when you consider the qualitative factors of Avengers: Endgame and Avatar, the latter’s worldwide record is even more admirable.

While we sing the praises of Avatar’s record, it must be said that for all the factors like inflation and theater count, James Cameron’s film did have some distinct advantages that Avengers: Endgame did not enjoy. The most obvious of those is that Avatar released in December of 2009, years before studios decided on a year-round blockbuster season. That’s something Avatar arguably started, Disney continued with Star Wars and will soon alternate holiday seasons between Star Wars movies and the Avatar sequels.

In the weeks and months that followed Avatar’s release, Sherlock Holmes, The Book of Eli, The Wolfman, Percy Jackson & The Olympians: The Lightning Thief and Dear John were released. It wasn’t really until March of 2010 when a true blockbuster arrived in the form of Alice in Wonderland. Endgame was given no such quarter, with Detective Pikachu, John Wick: Chapter 3 – Parabellum, Aladdin and Godzilla: King of the Monsters all following in the month or so after its release.

Nevertheless, despite its advantageous release month, Avatar still had more work to do than Endgame to reach the heights it did. Avatar was an original movie, from the filmmaker who made Titanic sure, but it had no real star power beyond James Cameron and Sigourney Weaver in a supporting role. We’ve seen other original sci-fi blockbusters from name filmmakers and some with even more star power fail to launch, and Avatar could have easily gone the way of Jupiter Ascending.

It had to succeed by selling audiences through its marketing and in the theater, and it did so with fantastic word of mouth and repeat viewings from audiences that fell in love with the spectacle of the film and wanted to live in Pandora.

Conversely, Avengers: Endgame was always guaranteed to be huge. Before we saw the first trailer, I’d say it had a good chance to snag the opening weekend record. That’s because it was the culmination of a franchise and characters audiences have invested in for over a decade. Everyone had already made up their minds to see it a long time ago.

It has the powerful Marvel branding and is the biggest film in the MCU, which is the biggest franchise in movie history. Those factors made Avengers: Endgame a true monoculture event that everyone wanted to be a part of, and the frenzy opening weekend is testament to that.

So the fact that it had all that going for it and it still might not surpass Avatar, and if it does it will be close, throws into stark relief just how impressive what Avatar did was. That’s not to take anything away from Avengers: Endgame, which has been a monumental achievement and no matter what film holds the top spot, Disney is the winner in all of this with Fox’s Avatar now under its umbrella.

That Avatar has finally been challenged though shows just how much it takes to beat it and looks to be a truly herculean and perhaps Sisyphean task. The question then becomes, if something like Marvel’s biggest film can’t beat it, can anything?