#every other fucking commercial is for the show referenced in the post

[nialltlynch]

in awe of the energy exuded here

#okay look #im at a hotel right #and im channel surfing as is true and correct to do at a hotel right #and like. wow. ghost adventures sure ill let that play out #and im not really paying attention but #every other fucking commercial is for the show referenced in the post #and so #obviously i don't really believe anyone in the world is watching it #no way its this popular. bullshit #so of course of course i check ao3 and ?????? #there are 64 fics in total which is already a staggering amount #and then come to find 29 of them are rated e #and the vast majority of those are weirdly and begrudgingly deranged #this is pure love of the bit #warriors bond tier commitment #i so fucking wish i had that #to truly blorbo a character is to consume them

[souryogurt64]

sorry if this has been asked before but is there anywhere i can read what exactly brendon was "cancelled" for or like what made public opinion of him drop? i know the obvious is the last 2 albums being complete shit + bad blood btwn the previous members but i swear i remember reading he had allegations against him in 2020 which is why he kinda disappeared for a while and now that section is no longer on his wikipedia page

There were a string of allegations I feel were definitely a hoax perpetrated by one person -- they were very formulaic and all had a pastel pfp, string of numbers as a handle, and a generic firstname, and many of them just so happened to confirm ryden.

a number of videos of brendon making insensitive comments surfaced-- he said he supported being transracial in a periscope and didnt seem to understand what the word meant, he said he wished he was black so he could dress gangster, and he said something like "im gonna fuck every person in this room whether they want it or not." all of these videos were on average about 10 years old now.

the crux of the issue, IMO, was his enabling, participating in, and encouraging his bodyguard systematically bullying and harassing both fans and subordinates on the team. that is a horrific thing to do and the extent of the issue it got to was nuts. you should never, ever have to pay hundreds to go to a show of a band you love and experience the musician retweeting a photo of you taken without your knowledge by a member of staff mocking your weight. its illegal for bands to confiscate medications from disabled people but panics security was doing that. its fucking horrible and arguably illegal for zack to set a photo of his singer's subordinate's wife's breasts as his lockscreen and ask her for a handjob. its just so, so disgusting

obviously his beef with former members (dallon especially) played a role as well as the creative and commercial direction he took, but this was the main thing.

the fact that that happened was just ridiculous and awful and it wasnt being taken seriously or dealt with, and i think things escalated into people fabricating stories about brendon a pedophile rapist or whatever because a) people just wanted to get involved and get attention and b) people felt that this legitimately horrific and vile behavior being perpetrated on such a grand scale was not being taken seriously and people felt the need to drag up drama and videos from years prior or say they believed things that were categorically false.

additionally, there was an incident on livejournal in like 2006 where this girl claiming to be brendons ex wrote an open letter basically calling brendon a drug-obsessed asshole and a jerk, and she vaguely referenced him being into "beating" her and being called daddy in the bedroom, as well as something along the lines of him trying to get her super drunk and her vaguely accusing him of possibly trying to date rape her and vaguely saying he "tried to stick in in the wrong hole"

then she allegedly posted something that seemed to claim she had never written the letter and that a lot of it wasnt true and that a friend had posted it after she had confided some of what was in the letter to that friend?? and she wanted people to stop hating on both her and brendon and that he was a "nice kid"

the tone of the letter was more gossipy/drama-y???? , and it did make some other accusations like saying that brendon and ryan were in a gay relationship, ryan secretly hated him and tried to get her to sleep with him, and that brendon didnt last long in bed, and that brendons lack of ability to control his semen had destroyed multiple coffee tables.

sometimes the letter gets passed around as a serious rape allegation and it definitely paints brendon as a shitty person who treated her like shit and speaks to his view and treatment of women in general, and there are some persistent rumors that are hard to pin down that she has continued to say unflattering things about brendons behavior around women.

but i feel kind of weird referring to the letter as a straight up abuse/rape allegation, especially since it was phrased so vaguely and allegedly claimed to be not written and retracted by the supposed poster, and i think if you actually read it and know the context of the you understand what i mean.

[clare-with-no-i]

from thee quibblah putting this in here for the future WHEN foreigner's god goes up pls do a director's cut xoxooxox mwah

hello THEEEEE quibblah! thank u for this question also when can I expect ur formal mailed apology for WTRF because that second chapter put me in a DITCH

anyway. SUPER, SUPER long post under the cut! because I have no chill! have never had chill! idk what chill is, to be frank!

SO - I was actually so nervous to put the long snippet out there that had this quote in it:

"I’m dead, she thinks, even as she feels the steady thump-thump against her ribs, I’m dead. I’m dead. He found us. We’re dead."

because I was like oh that basically gives up the whole game lol, but luckily it was not so obvious that people immediately knew I was referencing canon. WHEW! I mean, a few people guessed, but thankfully if any other people figured it out they kept it to themselves so I wouldn't have a meltdown HAHA

I wanted the first flashback to be of Harry because 1) it immediately sets up what the past lives were without me having to explicitly say it (woohoo less world-building for me, a Lazy Person) and 2) I can establish that this is going to really center on undoing the tragedy of canon. I haven't really read a lot of 'lovers in a past life' fics, but one thing that has nagged at me when I have is that I want to know why these people got a second chance. what was so tragic about their past lives? why do they deserve a do-over?

and if anyone deserves a fucking do-over, it's canon Jily.

--

this scene also has possibly one of my favorite lines of the entire fic, which is:

"The stoplight switches from red to green, and without knowing why, Lily flinches."

I actually stared at that line for a good few minutes after writing it, because it felt like such a good, concise encapsulation of the entire plot of the story - she doesn't know what's going on, or why her body is reacting like it is, but she sees this flash of green light in front of her (obvious allusion to what her last sight was in canon as Voldemort cast the killing curse) and has a physical, visceral reaction. it's also more subtle of a line than I'm usually able to write, lol.

--

fun fact about the case I give Lily: that's actually based on when I worked for a French pastry store in college as a barista, and they made me sign a contract like that upon hiring, which was just...absurd. and then I showed it to my dad, who's a commercial litigator, and he responded with "that is the least enforceable contract I've ever seen in my life." so. fuck you, mister J. burrows.

also, for those wondering, Burrows and Elkins ended up settling for a reduced sum a few months later. neither Lily or James cared.

--

THIS lawyerly passage:

"At this, Lily can only quirk an incredulous brow; he’s just violated one of the cardinal rules of practicing law. He’s mentioned fairness.

Fairness has no place in a court of law, and neither does it in this conference room. Settlements and verdicts aren’t decided based upon what’s fair, or even what’s right; they’re decided based upon who adheres to a contract more—or alternately, who decides first to accuse the other of not adhering to said contract. In criminal cases, this contract is the law; in civil cases, it’s the documents and agreements that assign the distribution of money.

Every competent lawyer knows this. Frankly, every incompetent lawyer knows it, too, but they choose to try and leverage it anyway, because they’re either too emotional or too lacking in logic not to. It’s one of the first things taught in any legal education."

comes from a book I read in which a Contracts prof makes a very similar argument on the first day with his 1L class. I took a few liberties and am willing to admit that the whole "in civil cases, it's the documents and agreements that assign the distribution of money" is a bit contrived, but I wanted to show off how knowledgeable and sharp Lily is. so. inner monologue to the rescue!

--

ok I haven't really talked about this before, but writing those flashback scenes was HARD. honestly one of the harder things I've ever tried to write - trying to find a concise, legible way of describing the sensation of having an audiovisual hallucination was damn near impossible!! so saying "the world flickers" was me just being like WELL I GUESS IT DOES

--

the email-countersuit scene is where I really throw all knowledge of civil trial proceedings into the wind and say fuck it. would those reviews have actually been enough for a libel suit? do lawyers need to notify opposing counsel when filing a countersuit? do they need to communicate that via phone or email or letter? would Lily's counterclaim to his counterclaim even do anything? who the fuck knows! not me!

but that notwithstanding I did have seven separate tabs with various "how to file a countersuit" "what do barristers do vs solicitors" "how to set up a deposition" articles open at all times when writing. I am now seeing targeted ads for Men's Warehouse suits. FML.

--

the Sirius scene is....one of my favs.

THIS wonderful moment:

"It finally takes Lily’s own screeching objection—you two should be ashamed of yourselves, I know exactly what you’re doing, this venue provides a free lunch at half-noon so you’re asking nonsense question to keep this going, did you think I wouldn’t know—to get the meeting back on-track."

is quite literally word-for-word something my mom did in the 80s when a bunch of asshole lawyers kept asking bullshit questions to her witness during a depo because they wanted a catered lunch. and she actually yelled this at them. fucking queen shit.

also, I felt no need to include Peter in the flashback because there was just no way he'd contribute to that. and he wasn't going to make an appearance IRL so, goodbye sir, u are not needed

--

Remus as an A&E doctor made so much sense to me. he would subject himself to that much stress.

another fav passage!

"When Lily was twenty, she went on a trip to Paris with her best friend, and they watched the movie Inception for the first time in the hotel room. The next day, she walked the same streets she’d seen explode and fold inward onto themselves, and she biked to the same bridge where Ariadne grabbed ahold of the world and turned it into mirrors for her to shatter.

Hearing Remus confirm his friendship with James Potter gives her the same feeling; that she’s bearing witness to the intersection of fiction and reality, something grounded in the living world that holds a single, enduring tether to the imaginary."

I know this was very random of me, but I was not sure how to describe the feeling that Lily must have had when realizing that her subconscious brain has somehow predicted that Remus and James would know each other, and then I was like - oh, let's have her think about a movie and reconcile it with the real world.

plus, idk if anyone picked up on this, but the entire premise of inception is the mingling of dreams and reality. HMMMM? HMMMMMMM?

--

the dancing-to-the-beatles scene was the first thing that made me kinda cry writing the story. and I listened to blackbird while writing it, so that Made Things Worse. also, suze, that one was for u, my Beatles queen. ty for the tears xo

--

"Then, one day, he sends her a link to an upcoming exhibit at the V&A called Masters of European Impressionism. She’d been staring at the same link a few days prior, but had clicked off, abashed by ticket prices.

The link comes with a short message: my family are members, so we got some extra tickets we’re not going to use. I don’t know why, but you seem like the type to be a fan of impressionism. Let me know if you want the tix."

yeah I like impressionist art! and all of my art friends make fun of me for it because it's apparently very plebeian of me to have it be my fav style! so I was like fuck u Lily is going to like European Impressionism and we're all going to respect her for it.

also, we can expect another reference to Van Gogh in Bond and Free. just so u know that I know that u know.

--

one of the things that made me so nervous about putting this piece out there is the lack of dialogue. like, most of their communications happen via text/email/phone call, not really in-person. in fact, they see each other 4 times (once without dialogue!) before the Halloween Scene, and I debated for a while if that would be a turn-off for people or if everyone would just skip over the descriptive bits. so, thanks for not doing that, if you didn't!

--

SPEAKING OF the coffee scene:

"They run into each other in a Starbucks in Victoria the first weekend of September. He makes puns. She rolls her eyes but laughs, forcing reluctance for whatever semblance of disdain she can try and play at in his presence. He pays for her coffee. When she objects, stating that there’s no reason to single her out, she can pay for her own coffee, so he might as well just pay for everyone else’s coffee, while he’s at it, for god’s sake, he just blinks at her and shrugs.

And then he pays for everyone else’s coffee."

if you read the structure of the sentences in that paragraph, everything James does is very simple - 'he makes puns.' 'he pays for her coffee.' 'he just blinks at her and shrugs' while Lily's sentences are super long and run-on.

this is because I wanted to give everyone a very visceral look into the way that lily perceives their situation: she feels like she's in the middle of a very complex internal conflict, but to her, James is cool and collected and unbothered - she's not even registering any minute action he does other than 'he pays for her coffee' and 'he makes puns.'

if this had been from his perspective, it probably would have been reversed!

--

the war scene AHHHH

so, 2nd time J has called her after/during a dream. AKA, this man is having the same dreams as you, miss Lily, and he very much needs to confirm that you're ok and safe, but in this one we see him regret the decision and hang up before she can answer, unlike after The Sex Dreams, in which this man was so thirsty and so confused he just picked up the phone very desperately wanted to hear her voice. HA simp

--

can y'all tell I have never been to a psychic?

the Splintered Star thing was really fun to think about though, and I'm honestly not sure where it came from. it just felt very Fated and Destiny-based and I liked that it kinda-sorta explained the traversing of universes/reincarnation.

also. y'all rockin with the multiverse???

--

SO. so. the wedding scene. Yowza.

I know that it's a bit wild for Lily to just up and ask him what happens when they die, because like wow bitch u rlly said 0-100 Real Quick, but at this point she is so frazzled and sleep-deprived and desperate to sort her head out that it actually felt very honest to have her just skip over the small talk.

conversely, this also means that she hears his answer from a slightly-less-logical standpoint, and just takes it as a sign that he doesn't remember her instead of investigating further. but like. she's fucking tired y'all!!!!

--

YEAAAHHHHH the Train Station scene.

this made me cry super hard writing. I hope that is consolation to everyone. I was nervous because I know in canon it's like, The Veil, but this felt the most reminiscent of when Harry is about to die in DH, and I also really wanted to establish a sense of movement with their deaths. they don't just cross a Veil, they get on a train and they don't know where it's going to take them.

also, fun fact, I had another part of this scene mapped where the train makes a stop and they see Harry about to confront Voldemort in DH, and J gets to say his famous "until the very end" line, but I was pretty sure at that point I'd be run off Tumblr with pitchforks, so I just left it. but now all of you know. so. WHOOPS

--

Did I just add the detail that Harry was dressed up like a little deer when Voldemort attacked? Yes, I did.

Did I also add the detail that James's wand was in the laundry basket because he's a Frazzled Dad and that's why he attacked Voldemort without a wand? Yes, I did.

Did I then continue to add the detail that Lily hears James's body hit the floor? Yes. I really did.

It's ok, I hated myself too.

--

the Halloween reunion scene was...so hard. writing this story was so tough overall, because I had to not only give Modern J&L a reason to fall for each other independently of their last incarnations, but with this, build up to their reunion with enough emotional tension, and then on top of that, create an event or moment that would trigger them both to just lose their minds and reunite, even disregarding The Wedding. and adding the flashbacks on top of that?? GOD.

so. Halloween!

"The broken fragments of her past life are fusing together messily inside her head. Every blink of her eyes is a fleeting, flashing memory.

Mum and dad in Cokeworth. Petunia. Hogwarts. Magic. The war. The Order.

James. Harry.

Lily lurches off of the couch, nauseous, and tumbles down to her knees, hiccuping and gagging as sounds and smells and sights run a blitzkrieg on her brain, and she’s London in the First World War, time-weathered buildings crumbling within her, houses and schools and cathedrals burning into ash, giving way to rubble. It’s too much, to see all of it at once; to be two people, to share all the pain and the fear and the joy in vibrant technicolor."

I really, really wanted to get into the physicality of this. I think it would have to be painful and unpleasant and shocking to remember all of these things, and I think that the magnitude of her realization is part of what makes this moment so important: she doesn't just see flashbacks of a random other life - she has full, unmitigated understanding of who she is AND was. and then, because of this, she realizes she needs to see James there.

--

I loved writing J standing in the rain outside of her apartment. it felt equal parts tragic and sexy LMAO and absolutely something I could imagine him doing.

also, this passage:

"Logically, Lily knows that there are no witches or wizards or wands in this world, understands that whatever earth she lived in for her past life was built on different fundamental elements than this one, but when she throws the door open, she decides that there must be some sort of dormant, kinetic magic swimming below levels of dirt and magma, running subterranean pathways that sizzle and spark."

was so important to me - I had it written pretty much from the outset. because, yeah, I've sort of convinced you all that there's no magic in this world, but to get back to the base of it all: these people are soulmates who have been reincarnated. do we really believe that there's no otherworldly business going on?

another favorite passage appears:

"Their eyes meet, and it’s a star in supernova, the Big Bang, the creation of the universe. Suddenly there are entire galaxies within her, constellations of loss and longing and joy that crystallize under his eyes, shooting to the surface of her skin and attempting to take flight from her body.

A splintered star, Madame Arnaud had called her. A splintered star, looking for its lost fragments.

But to look at a star is to see it burned out, to stare at its ghost as the lightyears of distance trick the eye, and this, too, is true as she look at James; she doesn’t just see him, but the ghost of who he was, the mirror image of him forged from a life of war and magic, one they shared together, a stellar collision in a different cosmos."

yeah I had the two bracketing paragraphs written before I even wrote the Madame Arnaud scene, so then when I realized I'd written a star metaphor, I was like...oh dope! some continuity? as a treat?

--

this moment:

"“You—you left me,” she chokes as this misplaced grief swallows her, bites her in half and leaves her in sawtooth parts. “You didn’t—you didn’t have your wand, James—” (somehow, she knows he’d left it in their bedroom, even without remembering where her own wand had been that night) “—and you—I had to—why did you leave me—”

James reaches for her arms, and she nearly jerks back from his touch, but she hates the distance between them—because, really, isn’t that what this is all about?—so she lets him pull her forward until his face meets her neck, mouthing apologies into her skin."

was also really vital for me. is it logical for her to be mad at him? absolutely not. but she's just been bulldozed by every possible human emotion ever, the biggest of which is grief, so I wanted their first moments to be messy and angry and sad, because I feel like the people we love most are the people we can share those vulnerable moments with without fear of reprisal.

--

THEEE Oops Baby is coming!

I didn't actually think I was going to include this originally, I imagined the end of it being the Halloween reunion and then maybe tacking on an epilogue on Tumblr or something, but I came to the conclusion that I couldn't mention Harry and have him be such a vital part of the story without resolving his arc, too.

does that mean that there might be a real-world Weasley troupe and Granger family out there? POSSIBLY. who knows! I wanted to leave his future up to interpretation, with the only real stipulation being: he's going to have a happy and healthy life with his very alive young parents! because I said so!

--

"When they tell Sirius and Remus, something passes through the two men’s faces—something cloudy and distant, like they’re peeking behind a curtain that only they can see, and in it is some collection of wonders, some world appearing only to them."

anyone catch this moment? I debated it for a WHIIIIILE. but I wanted to give a nod to the fact that the lost souls from the HP canon weren't just Jily, but instead, all of the people lost too young who deserved so much better. Especially those fated to meet, like The Marauders.

--

a final few favorite passages that made me feel warm and fuzzy inside:

"“He’ll be here soon,” James murmurs, more to himself than her. “Not long now.”

Lily looks at him, watches as he traces a fingertip over the soft swell of her belly. Something warm and gentle settles in her chest. It stretches out and loosens its limbs, pressing golden handprints into the space between her lungs and painting murals of sunlight along her ribs.

“Do you hear that, Harry?” She whispers. “Your mum and dad have been waiting for you.”"

and

"James leans up and presses a kiss to her abdomen. “We’ll do it right this time,” he says softly, to her or to Harry or both—she can’t be sure. “We’ll get more time.”

Yes, Lily thinks, they will. She looks up through the bedroom window. The London lights are dimmer than usual tonight, and above them, the sky is twinkling with stars."

YEAH THEY WILL. BECAUSE I SAID SO.

--

I guess the last thing I'll say here is that so much of the premise of this fic came from something a therapist said to me two years ago lmao - which is that trauma is often categorized as 'non-realization'; either the non-realization that an event is happening, or the non-realization that the event has happened, and that it's over, and that you're no longer in it.

this entire piece kind of felt like me exorcising the trauma of Jily's lives out of their bodies. it became super healing to allow them to work through this stuff by getting a second chance but still acknowledging their past life.

so! that seems like a healthy way to deal with fictional characters! ha ha!

--

omg. if you read this whole thing............good god, you are a champ. this was so long.

#ask #anon #quibblah my beloved #foreigner's god #me just writing a dissertation on my own fanfiction for no reason #this is so long...I am so sorry......

[libsterslobsters]

Whole Lotta Love

Synopsis: For some people, Valentine’s Day is another word for "stress", especially when you don't know what the other person is expecting. Several years into their relationship, Bucky’s pretty sure he has a good understanding of the Reader, until a word from Sam makes him question everything he thinks he knows. The race is on to make their first Valentine’s Day since saying their vows a special one, but as per usual, fate has it's own ideas about what will make the holiday truly memorable

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem! Enhanced! Super-soldier Reader

(Reader can see bits and pieces of the future in visions as well as speak every language)

Warnings: Smut, Fluff

Author's note: This fic contains references to earlier stories. For more information, click the series masterlist link. As always, the reader is unnamed so that this can be read as a self-insert, but at this point, I think of her as an OC.

The song referenced is Hearts Don't Break Around Here by Ed Sheeran

Series Masterlist

A The Song Remains The Same Fic

---------‐-----------------------------------

“So, Valentine’s Day.”

Bucky doesn’t look up from his laptop (or more specifically, the field report he’s typing) at Sam’s words. Despite his concentration, he can tell that his partner is staring at him, boring holes into his back with his gaze.

“Uh-huh.” He’s listening, but so far, he doesn’t care.

“What are you doing for it?” For Valentine’s day? Um…

“Not much.” It’s a Tuesday this year, right? Then probably working, like most other people, he’d imagine.

The room is silent as he types, so Bucky assumes that settles the matter. That is, until Sam mutters a quiet, “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”

“About what?” How many paragraphs does he have to type before he can pass this off as a full report? When he joined the Avengers, he thought the hardest part of his job would be the bad guy of the week, not doing paperwork!

“You’re really not doing anything for Valentine’s Day? Seriously?” He nods absentmindedly and clicks the save icon. He’ll finish this tomorrow. It’s five o’clock. Time to head home. Home to-

“What’s your wife gonna think about that?” He shrugs and cuts the power to the laptop.

“She thinks that the whole holiday is a rip-off. See you Monday?” He turns around for confirmation, only to catch Sam staring at him, mouth hanging wide open. “What?”

“A rip-off?” Is he just going to be stuck repeating himself?

“Yep.” Told him that the first February 14th they spent together.

“And you actually believed her?”

He nods. “She’s not one to lie.”

Sam nods incredulously. “Uh-huh. And are you planning to ever have sex again?”

He’s not going to dignify that with an answer (because really, isn’t it obvious?).

“Fine.” Sam shrugs. “You do you, man. All I’m saying is, if I had a wife who looked like that-” he indicates the lock screen of Bucky’s phone (a picture of her laughing, telling him to put away the damn camera after wrestling the dog for the tie to her favorite robe). “-I’d have my V-day plans set up a month in advance.”

Normally Bucky would take what Sam says with a grain of salt, but he is after all a man out of time, so maybe it’s worth considering that his partner may be right.

“What would you suggest I do?”

“Outside of the bedroom?” He narrows his eyes at the Falcon. “Okay, bad joke.” Sam scratches at the back of his head, thinking. “I don’t know, man. That’s your girl. You know her best, but flowers are always a good place to start.” Good to know that hasn’t changed since the 1940s. Although, last time he brought her flowers, she spent the afternoon sneezing until he eventually convinced her that it was okay, he wouldn’t be offended, she should throw the damn things out. Then again, that was before she was a super soldier.

“Flowers.” He repeats, earning a nod from Sam.

“You can get creative. Do a little research. But I’m just saying, when a woman waits five years for you to reappear, the least she deserves is a few flowers.” On that, they can agree.

He must bid Sam some sort of goodbye and make his way through the Avengers compound, but he’s unaware of anything until he’s in the parking lot, sitting behind the wheel of his car, googling “What to do for your wife on Valentine’s Day.” There’s a web page that boasts twenty different selections. Might as well give it a look.

___________________________________________________________________________________

She’s nearly home when her phone dings with a text from Barnes. “Just got in. Forgot to get milk. Can you swing by on your way, or should I go to the gas station and pick up a gallon?” A frown forms on her face. It’s pretty rare that Bucky forgets things. Must’ve been a hell of a day at work, then. Either that, or his brain has completely turned to mush thanks to typing out field reports. Either way-

“I got it. See you in twenty.” She thinks about tacking on a “love you”, but the light turns green before she can.

The grocery store is packed thanks to so many people getting off work. There’s only three carts left, all with bad wheels. She chooses the least squeaky option and, grabbing an add on her way, heads into the grocery store. Milk, and if she remembers right from this morning, they’re running dangerously low on coffee and tea. Despite caffeine having absolutely no effect on their enhanced bodies, both of them are nightmares to be around in the mornings without their beverages of choice. Force of habit and all.

She’s halfway to the checkout when she sees it. A sign, decorated in garish shades of red, pink, and purple. “All Valentine’s Day chocolates 10% off.” Shit. Yeah, that is coming up. To tell the truth, she’d completely forgot all about that day halfway through February. For most of her life, it only meant giving homemade cards at school when most kids had store-bought. Then, once she reached adulthood, it was a reminder that she was destined to be alone. Who would want someone who’s on the run, and what’s more, sees the future? Once she and Barnes got together, it didn’t change much. That first Valentine’s Day, he mentioned the holiday, and she shut it down immediately. They were both broke (or at least, he had no legitimate way of making money while she was broke), and celebrating a mostly commercial holiday seemed like a waste. Plus, she didn’t want to put a strain on a new relationship. Over the years, the subject never came up again, and she’s content for it to stay a non-starter, thank you very much. In her opinion, you should show your partner you love them every day of the year, not shoe-horn it into one twenty-four hour period. Call her unromantic if you must.

She’s completely immune to the various displays of cheap chocolate in heart-shaped boxes and overly sentimental cards as she approaches the register and starts to unload her items. Milk. Tea. That one specific brand of coffee that he likes because, “It tastes like what we drank in basic training. Terrible, but I kinda got used to it, so now everything else tastes like it’s trying too hard.” whatever that means. He’s right; she’s tasted it, and it’s fucking awful. Still, every morning, he drinks at least three cups while she drains her pot of tea.

“You got a hot date for Valentine’s Day, hun?” The cashier asks her, never breaking her rhythm as she rings up the items.

She chuckles. “As a matter of fact, yes.” The cashier’s eye go wide, and she holds up her left hand. “And every other day.”

“Ooh, nice. How long have you been together?”

“Nine years.” Wait… “Or four years, depending on which of us you ask. He blipped, I stayed.”

The cashier nods. “So are you older than him now?”

Physically? They’re not completely sure, but if you calculate the times he was off the ice with HYDRA and add that to the age he was before the serum, then they’re not far off. But chronologically- “No, he’s still older.” And yes, it will always be funny that Sam responds with “Okay, boomer” whenever Bucky makes an outdated reference (even if he’s off by a good twenty years).

With a little more light chatter, she pays for her items and leaves. Now, for home.

As soon as she opens the front door, she’s greeted by their dog, Sarge, barking excitedly and hopping around like he’s on a trampoline despite missing a leg. Bucky’s not far behind, placing a quick peck on her forehead before taking the bags from her and unloading them in the kitchen. Tonight’s his night to cook, but unless her nose has suddenly decided to give out, he hasn’t started dinner yet. She doesn’t mind taking over tonight, and when he sheepishly apologizes while she begins her preparations, she brushes it off. Although, for the second time in an hour, she’s seen proof of his unusual absentmindedness. Oh well. She’ll ask him about it later.

Despite being relieved from tonight’s chef duties, Bucky stays in the kitchen, sitting at the breakfast bar scrolling through his phone as she cooks. His expression is neutral, which can mean one of two things; a) he’s just killing time and there aren’t any interesting posts or articles vying for his attention, or at the opposite end of the spectrum, b) he’s deep in thought, possibly angry, sad, or even frightened, but he’s gone into Winter Soldier mode and shut down so that she won’t pick up on his mood. Damn the man and his poker face.

Eventually dinner is served and she sends him off toward the fridge in search of two beers while she serves their plates. Just as she’s spooning a generous helping of salad into her bowl, it happens. A vision, but a limited one. All she’s seeing is a phone. Well, that and the hand holding it. She’s not sure whether to be proud or embarrassed that she immediately recognizes the hand as Bucky’s, but that goes by the wayside as she takes in the article he’s reading. “Should you do something for Valentine’s Day even is she says no?” It’s a thread on some anonymous discussion board. The reply that has his attention is in reference to a now divorced individual who “was dumb enough to believe that, on our first V-Day as a married couple, she didn’t want anything.” Oh boy. Not good. This will be their first Valentine’s Day since exchanging vows, and if the fact that he’s read this reply (if not already read, will read soon) means that it’s at least crossed his radar that she might be feeding him bullshit. That’s not the case, but after his research, she knows from experience that no matter how much she tries to convince him otherwise, a small part of his mind will be stuck on, “But what if this is a big deal?” Which means-

“Doll, are you just gonna stand there with the salad tongs in your hand?” That snaps her out of it.

“No. Just a vision.” He frowns as she passes him his plate.

“Anything important happen?” Should she say?

“No.” She’s not sure if the smile or not, so she takes a bite from her roll to cover it. “Random sneak peek.” It’s not a lie. What she saw really isn’t important. Still, if he’s in that mindset, she should probably go on and do something for him just in case. After all, why should it only be the ladies who reap this holiday’s benefits?

___________________________________________________________________________________

Not flowers. That’s the one thing that, after copious amounts of research Bucky is one hundred percent certain about. They may still be a common romantic gift, but since they were also a go-to back when he was courting girls in the 1940s, it’s safe to say they’ve been overdone. Plus, he doesn’t really want to remind her of that time she had such a severe allergic reaction to the flowers he picked her on a walk through the park in Bucharest that her eyes nearly swelled shut and she sneezed herself sick. That doesn’t exactly seem like prime romance.

Chocolates or other candies have the same issues as flowers. Contrived and predictable. A bottle of wine is nice, but neither of them can so much as get mildly tipsy thanks to the super serum. The fourteenth is his day to cook, so he guesses he could do some reading and try to create something a little more special than spaghetti (he thought about going to a nice restaurant for dinner, but there’s a few issues with that, not the least of which is they’re likely to be recognized without their disguises, and he’d rather not look at his wife through sunglasses on Valentine’s day), but that seems a little underwhelming.

As he loads the dishwasher (she fell asleep half-way through the third episode of whichever nonsensical comedy they’re watching this week, so he sneaked back downstairs to clean up the dinner dishes), he thinks back to the dozen separate articles he read on the subject of Valentine’s Day gifts. Jewelry was a common theme, but that’s out. She’ll say thank you to his face, but worry about the cost behind his back. Plus, he has absolutely no idea what she’d like, and there’s no sense in purchasing something only for her to hate it.

Another common one was lingerie. Bucky almost choked on his tongue when he saw some of the examples given with that option. None of it looked comfortable (in fact, he’s still scratching his head about how you even put on one of the pieces that popped up on the web page) and he doesn’t want to give her the impression that she has to dress up for him. Even putting all that aside, he has no idea what size she’d even wear. He likes to think that he knows his wife pretty well, but somehow, in all their years together, it never occurred to him to ask her for her clothing sizes. That, and have you even seen the bra sizing system? Does it make sense to anyone, because to Bucky, it’s all gibberish. 32 B? 36 DD? What the hell? Somehow, when HYDRA was training him to extract information, they failed to go over the translation of a woman’s bra size. He supposes he could ask, but he’s not sure there’s a non-suspicious way to work, “Hey, sweetheart. What size are your breasts?” into casual conversation.

Sam said to get creative, so he tried to think outside the box. What’s something she really needs? A new vacuum cleaner is the first thing to come to mind, but he’s not stupid enough to think that would make a good gift. He knows she’s had her eye on a set of throwing stars, but that doesn’t seem to correlate well with what this holiday is all about. That’ll keep until her birthday.

He’s still wracking his brain for anything at all that might work when he feels a wet nose poking at his hand. Sarge. “Hey, boy. Has your mom gone to bed?” The response is a quiet “woof” and lick to his palm. He scratches the mutt behind the ears, smiling to himself as Sarge’s back leg thumps at the treatment.

“What do you think we should get our girl? Huh?” There’s no reply (of course not, he’s talking to a dog), but he nods, pretending all the same that Sarge has offered up a suggestion. “A bone. Yeah, somehow I don’t think that’s her thing. Try again.” The dog blinks at him lazily. “No, you’re the one who wants new tennis balls. Not Mom. Although you’re right about her liking peanut butter.” At this rate, he might as well get her a bone and some tennis balls, because he’s sure not coming up with any ideas.

She likes music. The thought pops into his head while he’s brushing his teeth. All sorts of music. Over the years, he’s tried to make sense of the songs he’s heard her listen to, but has yet to find a discernible pattern in her listening habits. She doesn’t seem to stick to just one genre or era. More like she picks songs by how they relate to what she’s feeling at the moment. Wait a second-

“A mixtape.” His reflection mouths the words back at him. Despite technology having moved on from the days of burning CDs, she still has a thick stack of the disks stored in a cabinet and plays them on the regular. He’s even seen a few that she made herself, pasting together the songs she likes to make a “Cleaning mix”, “Workout Mix” and “Pissed off Mix”. Bucky’s sure he could figure out how to burn a CD, but it’s not like she’d be able to listen to that everywhere she went. That leaves a playlist. She uses one of those apps to listen to music on her phone, right? Surely he can put something together for her using that.

Quietly, he climbs into bed next to his sleeping wife and pulls her back against his chest, slinging one arm over her waist as usual. He closes his eyes, but his mind is alight with activity. A playlist. Of course. He’ll put some extra effort into whatever he cooks that night, stop by a bakery and pick up some sweet treats for dessert. Hell, maybe they’ll both dress up and act like they’re on a date. Then, once they’re sitting down to their meal, he’ll pull out his phone and hit play. It’s perfect. At least, he hopes it is.

___________________________________________________________________________________

Putting on a lacy bra and panties set underneath her regular work attire seemed like a brilliant idea this morning. Today’s a short day; she’s only got three classes to teach, and Rhodey called last night to tell Bucky that he’s suspending work hours at three pm “Since most people have holiday preparations to make.” Her plan was to be waiting on the sofa in the living room when he arrives home, professional button-down blouse open just enough for him to get a good look at what’s underneath, pencil skirt pushed up enough to reveal the stockings and garters she’s donned for the occasion. It’s fun, with just enough cheesiness to match this whole holiday. And, well, it’s a guarantee that by the end of the night they’ll be in bed together, both rumpled, sweaty, and satisfied. Perfect, right?

Wrong. On her drive to work, her skimpy underwear began to ride up, giving her a wedgie, and there was no way to adjust without running the risk of wrecking. She was so distracted by her discomfort that she missed her exit, and by the time she arrived at the college, she was running so behind that she didn’t get the chance to run to the bathroom and readjust. Her lecture on sentence diagrams was pure torture before the underwire from her bra decided to join in the fun and poke her directly in the ribs, but with that addition, she was especially impatient with her students’ tendency to joke around a little too much in class.

Luckily, she had just enough time to wrap the exposed metal bit in tissues before her next class, which eliminated the pain in her chest, but did nothing to alleviate the discomfort once her stockings began to slide down, having at some point disconnected themselves from the garters. She taught like that for the next two classes, but as soon as they were over, she pealed the whole ensemble off in the teacher’s restroom and changed into her gym clothes. Alright, screw the whole seduction routine. She needs to blow off some steam and fast, or else she’ll be in a bad mood all night.

That’s why, thirty minutes later, she finds herself in the training room of the Avengers compound, working over a punching bag. “Fuck-” Her fist connects, making the bag swing crazily from it’s hook. “-this- whole- day!” It goes sailing, and she feels a little better.

“Ouch!” The voice comes from behind her and she whirls around, gaze resting on-

“Sam.” The man in question holds up his hands in an “I surrender” gesture.

“Don’t shoot! I come in peace.” Rolling her eyes, she holds up her middle finger, receiving a snicker in acknowledgment.

“Just working off a little frustration before I head home.”

“Good.” Sam chuckles. “’cause otherwise, I’d be worried that when Barnes pulls out his dick tonight, you’ll bite it off.” She thinks about telling him that there’s no chance of that, but she might just cut off his if he crosses her. However, that jogs her memory.

“Has he left yet?” Sam nods.

“About an hour ago. Said he had to pick up groceries.” Shit. There goes her plan to shower, throw the damn lingerie back on and proceed as planned.

Bidding Sam a hasty reply, she makes tracks towards her car and, once inside, heads for home. Fine. New plan. She’ll shower once she arrives and then when the evening is drawing to a close, wait for him in bed. Nodding to herself, she puts the car in park and climbs out. Now, to psych herself up enough in the next few hours to put the damn lingerie back on.

___________________________________________________________________________________

Where did he go wrong? It takes all of Bucky’s self control not to spit out the spoonful of sauce he just tasted. This was supposed to be an easy recipe for Chicken Alfredo (or at least, that’s what the website boasted; he should’ve known better than to get his information from the internet and stuck to a good old-fashioned cookbook from the library). Not… whatever the hell this is. Maybe even if the sauce is nauseating, the chicken is okay?

He pulls open the oven door, and immediately smoke billows out, making his eyes water. Okay, chicken’s a little well-done. Who is he kidding? Black. The chicken is burned black. And the pasta… he lifts the pot lid and stirs, only to come to the realization that the pasta is completely stuck to the bottom of the pot. Wonderful.

It’s inevitable; over the years, he’s had his fair share of cooking disasters, but usually he does okay. Tonight though… who the hell up there did he piss off, because the only explanation for how badly this is going is his karma coming due.

Still holding the offending spoon, he looks over at Sarge, who’s staring at him, long pink tongue sticking out as he pants. “Trust me, boy. You don’t want any of this.” There has to be something else he can pull together on short notice. Normally he’d be worried that she’s running late without so much as a text, but today he’s relieved. At least if she’s running behind he’ll have time to… what? Maybe order takeout? Before she gets-

“I’m home.” Shit.

Sarge yips, shaking with excitement, and starts towards the kitchen door, then turns back, uncertain. “Go on. I know you’re dying to jump on her and lick her face.” Something they really should be training out of him because he’s getting too big for that sort of behaviour but, well… there’s a reason they call them “puppy dog eyes.”

Not needing to be coaxed, the dog takes off, tripping a little in the momentary lapse in his memory that he’s a tripod, but easily catches himself and goes on his merry way, leaving Bucky to clean up his mess. From the sound of things, a game of fetch is going on in the living room, so she should be distracted for a while.

He manages to pour the sauce down the drain and scrape most of the pasta into the trash while Sarge is acting as a decoy, but there’s absolutely no way he can dispose of the chicken without tipping her off (damn enhanced senses, it’s a wonder she hasn’t already smelled it). Finally, he decides to just go for it. She’s going to notice whether he throws it out now or two hours from now. Might as well get a head start on cleaning.

Sure enough, not ten seconds after he empties out the oven, he catches a movement in his peripheral vision, and the familiar sound of her breathing tips him off that he’s no longer alone.

“Hey, Doll.”

“Hey, Bucky. Did something burn in here, or-” He holds up the pan for her inspection before continuing his scraping.

“That’s one way to put it, yeah.” He slams the lid back on the trashcan and turns on the tap, intent on rinsing out the pan. “Another is whoever the god of culinary arts is has it in for me today.”

She chuckles. “You know, that would be funnier if we didn’t actually know a god.”

“Yeah, but he’s in control of thunder.” He meets her eyes, smirking slightly. “Although it did look like I electrocuted the bird.” Her lips quirk up into a smile, and he takes the opportunity to kiss her, cupping the back of her head gently to hold her in place when she tries to move away, muttering something about being sweaty.

He’s not entirely sure how it happened, but by the time they come up for air, her back his pressed against the wall and he’s got her pinned in place. Not that he’s complaining.

“Anyone ever tell you that the tip of your nose turns pink after you’ve been kissed?’ Her cheeks go rosey in response.

“I think so. One guy did. I told him it’s only when I’m kissed properly.”

He really would like to continue the playful banter, but there’s still the small matter of whatever it is they’re going to eat.

“What do you feel like for dinner tonight?”

“Apart from electrocuted chicken?” He responds with a swat to her ass, which earns him a snicker. “Let’s keep it simple. Pizza. Your choice of toppings.” Right, that’s easy enough. Plus, if they have to wait longer than thirty minutes, it’s free.

“Okay. I’ll order while you shower?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

He’s just pulled up the menu on his phone when the sound of her clearing her throat attracts his attention. She’s standing in the doorway, combing through her freshly let down hair with her fingers, a playful look in her eyes.

“Or you could join me. Just a mild suggestion.”

Dinner can wait for a while.

___________________________________________________________________________________

The Brooklyn townhouse they live in has many nice features. There’s a functional if small screened in back porch, big enough to hold a table for two and a grill. Two bedrooms, on the off chance someone from work needs to crash for a night or two. A kitchen with a dishwasher. A working fireplace. Good closet space. And an en suite bathroom.

Maybe it’s a little ridiculous to call a bathroom luxurious, especially when, in comparison to what’s featured in many brownstones, it’s more than modest, but she can’t help but think of it as such. There’s a double sink so that in the morning rush to get ready, Bucky’s able to shave and brush his teeth without having to wait for her to finish applying her makeup. Shelving above the toilet makes certain that even if the last person to shower took the towel with them, another one is on hand. Speaking of the shower, it’s not the largest one in the world, but both of them can fit in comfortably at the same time, which is what’s lead to their current situation.

She’s just finished allowing the water to course over her body, easing the sweat from her skin, and is about to begin the process of washing her hair, scrubbing her body, but she hesitates. She might as well ask. It’s only practical after all.

“Do you want to start now or get cleaned up and have dinner beforehand?” It’s obvious what she’s referring to, so she doesn’t bother to spell it out.

His brown knits, and if she didn’t know him as… intimately… as she does, she’d actually believe he’s confused.

“Oh, so you’re just assuming there’s gonna be sex involved at some point tonight?”

She shrugs, wringing out her hair.

“Seemed like a safe enough bet.” She glances pointedly between the two of them. “After all, we’re already undressed. “

His laugh is a quiet huff, barely discernible over the sound of the water. “Then I’d say start now, have dinner, then go for round two. Sound about right to you?”

She nods. “Solid plan.”

“Then get over here.”

Unlike the welcome home kiss they shared not half an hour ago, this one is less tender, more electric. Hands twist in hair, bodies press together. Tongues begging for entrance quickly give way to teeth nipping at bottom lips, an unspoken sparring match for who’ll be in control this time around. Ultimately he wins, grasping her hips and lifting as she wraps her legs securely around his back.

There’s no need for prep; the teasing of their earlier words is foreplay enough. Back pressed against the wall, her body easily welcomes him in as she braces one arm against the glass shower doors for balance. Any concerns about slipping and falling wash away as they move together like so many times before. She’s sure her nails will leave marks on his back, fingertips digging in for purchase and it’s a guarantee her hips will be littered with fingerprints from his grip, but she can’t find it in her to care, and if the desperate, bruising kiss assaulting her lips is anything to judge from, neither can he.

“So damn good, Doll.” It’s panted against her neck. “Always. So damn perfect for me.” All she can manage is a moan in response.

She feels him twitch inside of her and knows he’s close. So is she, but she can’t quite get there without-

As if he’s read her mind, he reaches between them to touch her where she needs it most, and on instinct, she readjusts, locking her arm around his neck to stay in place. “Let go, sweetheart. Can you do that for me?” She couldn’t disobey if she wanted to.

“Fuck.” As her walls contract around him, he pulls out just in time to paint her middle with his release.

“That’s one word for it.” She’s still fighting to catch her breath, but she shoots him a shaky smirk, which he returns.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Mrs. Barnes.” Snickering, she releases him to stand on unsteady legs and pecks his legs.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Mr. Barnes.” Maybe there’s something to this holiday after all.

___________________________________________________________________________________

“You want the last slice?” Bucky considers it for a moment before deciding-

“Nah. You can have it.” It may not be exactly what he planned, but it’s been a good night. Between the two of them, they’ve gone through two large pizzas while watching the new version of Beauty and the Beast (she rolled her eyes when he asked if this was her way of saying he reminds her of a certain hairy, horned character) in their pajamas.

“No, really. You take it. I don’t want it.” She nudges the mostly-empty pizza box towards him. The noise makes Sarge lift his head from where he was snoozing beside her on the sofa. That gives him an idea.

“I don’t want it either, but I can think of someone who does.” He cocks his head towards the now-drooling dog. “How ‘bout it, boy? Wanna help us out?”

Snickering, she picks the pepperonis and pieces of sausage and ham from the pizza, forming a pile. “Here, Sarge. Catch.” She tosses a coveted treat in the air, and Sarge’s jaw snaps, swallowing it whole. “Good boy.”

They sit in comfortable silence for a few minutes before she speaks again.

“You know, I actually did have something planned for you.”

“Oh, yeah?” She nods.

“Absolutely. Had a whole seduction plan laid out. Tiny underwear, lacy bra, and stockings with garters included.” Huh. Guess she wouldn’t have taken the “lingerie” option the wrong way. He’ll file that away for future use… along with a mental note to ask her bra size. “That is, until I tried wearing the damn things for longer than an hour. Turns out, hiding a dirty secret under your clothes is more itchy than sexy.”

He can’t help it. He laughs, producing a pout from her which quickly turns into her own quiet laughter.

“Well, that fits in perfectly with my fancy dinner going up in smoke.”

“We really do have shitty luck with the whole “romance” thing.” She’s joking, but he decides to respond anyway.

“I don’t know about that.” Entwining his fingers with hers, he lifts their hands, twin wedding bands catching the light. “You waited five years for me to reappear after the blip, and I convinced you to elope with me. Seems pretty romantic.” Although, that reminds him…

“Don’t move.” Releasing her hand, he stands and goes in search of his phone.

“Bucky, what-”

“Don’t move, Doll. Stay right where you are.” Ah. On the kitchen counter, just where he left it. Jogging back into the room, he resumes his place on the couch next to her. Ignoring her questioning gaze, he pulls up the app and, selecting the correct playlist, hits play.

Immediate recognition blooms on her face at the opening lyrics. “She is the sweetest thing that I know. Should see the way she holds me when the lights go low.” He’s not one for modern music, but when he was googling “songs for Valentine’s Day” and this one popped up, he couldn’t help but think that the lyrics were fitting.

“I didn’t know you’d heard this one.”

He chuckles. “Even old men have a few tricks up their sleeves. That, and a wifi connection.” She rolls her eyes but leans closer, which he takes advantage of to show her the playlist.

“This is the app you use, right?” Receiving a nod, he continues. “Feel free to scroll through and add whatever you want. I haven’t listened to all of them the whole way through, but they seemed to fit the mood.”

Her hand closes over his, covering the phone. “Thank you, Bucky. It’s perfect.”

As the singer goes on about how hearts don’t break around here, he presses his lips against hers.

“I love you, Doll.”

“Love you.”

Not bad for a disastrous Valentine’s Day. Not bad at all.

#marvel #the avengers #bucky fanfic #bucky x original female character #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes #captain america #the winter soldier #bucky barnes smut #smut #fluff

[cwopf]

MY THEORY OF GILLOVNY

What if these two actually are together in real life. What if it IS a possibility. As lunatic as it seems, I can’t help but think about it. I have a life of my own, believe me, yet I keep coming back to this thought every once in a while, because I admit I’ve never seen anything like it before and I am not someone who gives even a flying fuck about celebrities. But these two make me wonder and I don’t know what is it about them, but I somehow want to believe in them.

What if their undeniable chemistry truly is real and their love is so much more than just a friendship.

What if Peter Morgan truly is nothing but a colleague and some kind of publicity she caught herself in, because even with all the “proof” of them being a couple, something just doesn’t sit right.

Her behavior, the gestures around him, it just doesn’t seem like a well loved, happy beyond dream kinda woman, I don’t physically see it. I truly don’t get the “love of my life” vibe. Do you?

Stiff, reserved and all in all a bit cold even, they truly make me wonder if it might be just a PR stunt. And, look, if I saw her crazy happy with a guy I’d be happy for her, totally. But, this? Nah, I don’t buy this shit.

Which, when I look back at all the gillovny moments, as crazy as it was, makes me believe that it was more than just an acted out exaggeration. And not even just a deep, year long friendship.

What if it truly passed all of that and became a romance at some point, and a big one. It certainly did look like it at a time. And while it currently looks like it had already ended, it made me think - what if that’s the point?

It takes a fool not to notice their ways towards each other, and even with all the denials, which sure make it hard to believe, when you see it for yourself it naturally comes as a possibility. It seems like a waste not to pursue something like that.

If we go back to the hints. The random sightings. Some might be made up, I am sure, but then some seem just crazy accurate.

What’s with the random dates in their lives, how can it all be so synchronized. Is it just random luck or is it an ode or a message to one another of some sort?

Why were they spotted in the same places so many times, randomly and out of their professional time together. Why the visits on sets, the airport sightings, the deleted tweets that seemed to reveal a little bit too much, the supposed holiday trips to the same destinations.

Why do people in the biz say stuff like “You mean Gillian and David? They’re not married, but they have been together for a while now.” Why does a random person (who apparently works for tv) on fb wish them a happy bday, then posts about how they have been together for a while now and how it was a nice surprise. And why would someone just say that out of the blue? Yep, it probably meant nothing. But, again. What if there was some truth to that? And that was only a fucking year ago.

How do two people accidentally get crippled at the same time? Also the stories from that same event, of how they love each other and their gestures towards one other, them arriving together and entering separately? What the hell are people noticing? Wasn’t she already kinda supposedly taken by then?

Why does she always wear the link bracelet, she wore it in their “good times” and it truly seems like a gift from D, which, of course, we will never know matter of fact, but it just feels like it. She has it on constantly, it seems so telling. She also wears it on red carpets with PM all the time and on almost every photoshoot. What IF it is from DD, wouldn’t that say something?

Also the necklace with a link he once wore on the stage of one of his concerts, could that very link be a part of her chain? If yes, then that is some deeply romantic shit.

Also the recent interviews, one in particular comes to mind. First, her mentioning her supposed boyfriend subtly and only saying the name out loud when asked about it, then proceeding to talk about her “partner” and telling a story of how they were talking about the aging process, but how they respect it because they are both going through it. Why does it feel like the mentioned totally fits someone else, like she’d discuss such a thing with someone who has been a part of her life for a long time and she had inevitably experienced this process with during the years. Does this click for anyone else too, or am I crazy and making up shit?

This was the moment when I stopped to think if just maybe there was a crazy possibility of David still being in her life.

Why does she speak about it being so good not living with her man and how she doesn’t see him that often, but when she does it’s special and it works for them.

While she must have been seeing her “current man” on set all the time. Do you notice how a lot of stuff that are supposedly about PM just don’t add up? Also, again, does the story make you think about someone else as well?

Also, have to throw this in here. The Christmas Jonathan Ross show. The sudden David (dick) reference. The Rob Lowe (apparently a good friend of David’s) saying “not far off from what I’ve been told” then both of them giggling together, almost as if an inside joke. The kind that gives off the vibe of making you wonder if the size thing’s something she’d accidentally blab out and brag about jokingly at some dinner party they once shared.

Why does she usually not give a fuck about half the stuff said, yet she would feel so shaken by people’s disbelief to publicly put it out on twitter about PM being the “love of her life” just to defend that idea? Why does it not seem like her at all? Why do I feel making a joke or being sarcastic about it would fit her more?

Is her SM being totally under control?

Maybe the penis and yoni of the day (along with Nelson) are one of the rare outlets right now, even that being some pre-approved idea for having it seem like she’s being her regular self, cause that’s something that we know fits her character.

But when you think about it, it is still a mini subtle commercial for SexEd. Which I love, yet...Netflix. Again.

Also, the constant mentioning of Netflix along with PM in her stories, desperately trying to fit him somewhere. Like the “what do you eat during quarantine” and bam: “when me and Pete hosted a dinner we froze a chocolate cake...” Riiight. Is it just me, or does it seem like trying way too hard?

Which makes me think of all the contrary. If we go back to the past Gillovny fuckery...“he’s in the shower” and “I’m with schmoopie” shirts and “chewie’s girlfriend” and the twitter saga. What if it was intentionally done that way to make people think “what if”, but obviously take it as a joke, because of course that’s what it is. But was it? Maybe they just knew no one would truly buy it so they could play around for a little bit and actually be a couple for a minute, make out on Kimmel and fuck around on twitter. Propaganda? Maybe.

Some truth in that? God damn it, almost feels like it. Sure felt way more natural, sexy and loving than any of the stuff going on today.

What if we hate MP for no reason, what if she’s just truly a fucking assistant, a help and nothing but it. What if G hugged her after the play in London out of gratitude, because she’s just a prop they need to act this shit out. What if it’s all a big shitshow, but a shitshow nonetheless.

What if I will say the silliest shit of all time and boldly assume...that behind all of this which we do not understand, D&G are still together and fine. What if it was meant to feel like the end to us. But they are there, in secret, because it’s somehow better for them, because they prefer it that way.

What if the shoe pic of “working from home in my Dune London shoes” a day prior to his 60th birthday is just another way to turn people away from that idea and subtly make them not even question anything, while in reality she is with him, somewhere, celebrating his 60th birthday. And things are much brighter for them than what they seem.

I might be so wrong, so off. But something is going on in the background and there are way too many things I do not buy.

Also, it was honestly more probable to me that they were once together, but fell apart somewhere along the way, I believed that and it totally seemed like a probable scenario.

Until the very subtle, yet interesting stuff that have been going on made me question it again, maybe it’s silly, but when I connect the dots, like the constant bracelet wearing, the talking about a partner and not mentioning the name, but referencing stuff that feel completely Gillovny, aging with someone, long distance shit, random people still stating “they have been together for a while now, nice surprise”. Maybe it’s a load of bullshit, but it also just makes it seem like he still might be there, somewhere, after all.

How the hell did I end up here? I ask myself this constantly. I still have no idea.

Yes, it is so fucking crazy. But this is where I leave this at.

#gillovny #david duchovny #gillian anderson #gillian and david #the x files

[yeswevegotavideo]

@thegrandwilde, I got inspired from our earlier conversation and you did say you like getting introduced to new music so… (Though actually, feel free to ignore this post entirely, I just like info-dumping about They Might Be Giants and this is a convenient excuse to do so lol)

Apparently it was three asks, maybe there were more I didn’t see, but these are the songs I’ve seen referenced in those weird ass tmbg asks (Spotify links):

The Mesopotamians

Birdhouse in Your Soul

Don’t Let’s Start

And really, those are great songs, but speaking as someone who has obsessively listened to this band for 32 (of 36) years, these are some equivalent or better ones under the cut. One from almost every album, actually.

(*Favorite albums)

Put Your Hand Inside the Puppet Head (They Might Be Giants, 1986)

Their least-refined album, being their first, but full of a lot of gems, actually.

Ana Ng (Lincoln, 1988)*

Much more polished than the first. This one’s hard to choose one song from, nearly every one is gold.

Your Racist Friend (Flood, 1990)

Probably their most popular album, at least from my era? Extremely popular among Mormons for reasons I’ve never really understood.

I, Palindrome, I (Apollo 18, 1992)*

Arguably my favorite album to this day, not just from TMBG, but generally. It’s actual perfection, is all. Next to impossible to choose a single song to feature.

No One Knows My Plan (John Henry, 1994)*

Their first album after adding more members/instruments, including some horns, which they would keep from this point forward. (Now they’re two Johns, two Dans, and a Marty). Arguably their first commercially viable album, and likely the thing that got them noticed by TV producers. (Soon after this, they wrote The Daily Show theme and have been more or less industry staples ever since. They wrote the Malcolm in the Middle theme song, as well.)

Pet Name (Factory Showroom, 1996)*

Another basically perfect album, next to impossible to choose a single song from. I only chose this one because it’s awesome and a bit more chill than a lot of their stuff.

Doctor Worm (Severe Tire Damage, 1998)

One of their better-known songs, from an almost entirely live album, but not a live song. I see people quoting this one semi-often and wonder where they heard it.

Reprehensible (Long-Tall Weekend, 1999)

The first full-length online-only album ever released by a major artist. Which is amazing. (They were also one of the first major artists, if not the first, to have an official online radio station, in 1999. Which is insane.)

This song is a good representation of a mainstay of TMBG: pairing perky pop melody with vaguely (or sometimes blatantly) sinister lyrics or subject matter. One of my most favorite musical tropes (gee, I wonder why? Lol)

My Man (Mink Car, 2001)*

Released around the time John Flansburgh started his electronica/hip-hop fusion side project, Mono Puff. I’m not wild about the project, but being in that headspace did wonderful things for this album.

This song is featured to demonstrate their extreme, general nerdiness (especially John Linnell’s, who is my preferred John). Insofar as they have managed to turn the 3 word phrase, “I am paralyzed” into a 3 minute song, without once using the actual phrase.

Experimental Film (The Spine, 2004)

A good, solid album, another one it’s hard to choose one song from. The video for this song was done by the Brothers Champs, creators of Homestar Runner. The story goes that they each found out the other were huge fans of theirs, collectively did whatever the middle-aged man equivalent of a fangirl-squeal is, and began collaborating immediately. They still do, occasionally.

The Cap’m (The Else, 2007)*

It took me a while to warm up to this album, but now I absolutely love it. While looking for a song to post, I realized one of the anon asks quoted this song.

The Lady and the Tiger (Join Us, 2011)*

A nearly perfect album marred by a couple of songs that I legitimately dislike. That is…not a thing I say about TMBG often. *shrug* They can’t all be Apollo 18.

This song baaaarely squeaked by ahead of You Probably Get That A Lot, When Will You Die?, and Cloissinné because the Bassline. Fucking. Slaps.

Money for Dope (Album Raises New and Troubling Questions, 2011)

Released as a companion to Join Us, including some songs cut from the album along with some b-sides, live tracks, & remixes. It’s got some good shit on it, including Marty Beller Mask, easily one of the most surreal songs they’ve ever written.

But I featured this song because it was the inspiration for my The Young Ones: Love & Mobsters fic: Dope, and because it’s one of their many songs that is literally just a list of things, which is very them.

Call You Mom (Nanobots, 2013)

Another solid album, but not one of my favorites. It might just be too new for me (she said of the 6 year old album), but it might just not be one of their best albums. *shrug*

They Might Be Giants has a very distinct sense of humor. This song is just about the perfect example of that.

Erase (Glean, 2015)

The first album released after they started their new Dial-A-Song project, which they turned into a song-a-week challenge. As a result, the album isn’t like, exceptional, but there are a lot of gems, actually.

This is my favorite song on the album because it’s about the creative editing process (yes, a rare TMBG song that is definitively about something) and I feel it on a spiritual level.

Bills, Bills, Bills (Phone Power, 2016)

I’m not familiar enough with this album to have much of an opinion on it, I don’t listen to it much. But I had to include this song because I legitimately fucking love TMBG covers, and this one was…unexpected, lmao.

Mrs. Bluebeard (I Like Fun, 2018)*

The first album released after the 2016 election, and it shows, with a strong thread of fears about aging, loss, vague despair/disappointment, and political anger (An Insult to the Fact Checkers is a blatantly anti-Trump song). I fucking love it.

This song is just really well composed, and also demonstrates a strong feminist sensibility, rarely seen in ostensibly cishet(?), white, male baby-boomers (young ones, but still).

(Yes cis, dunno if het? Neither are particularly effusive about their personal lives. They’re both married which, of course, means literally nothing.)

I mean, they’ve clearly always been liberal commie bastards (see Your Racist Friend above), but they’ve become more vocally so over the past few years.

#Long post #they might be giants #TMBG

[themangaguide]

They are all references

A manga concerning Japanese Society

Fairly perhaps my favorite manga collection, hammer session manga is a masterpiece of satire, social commentary, and also fiendishly twisted romance.

The art work is carried out in Kumeta's beautiful abstract style. Solid darks and also whites in level aircrafts and elaborate geometric patterns. Kumeta shows a genius for character style, taking the principle of the shape to its most extreme by really portraying his personalities as silhouettes when it matches him. This plays into the fact that they are all references and also satires to different manga character tropes, effectively darkness cast by other characters that came before them, yet visually unique and also promptly recognizable, boiled down to an easy geometric empire.

hammer session humor is an attacking satire of modern Japan, whatever from widespread commercialism as well as media sensationalism to the closer to house commentary about manga conventions as well as life as an artist. hammer session manga is never satisfied with merely referencing these problems, there is constantly an opinion related to them, typically with an almost Socratic discussion occurring between Nozomu and his trainees. hammer session enjoys in checking out social problems in an uncommon light, something done remarkably with the immigrant personality Maria, whose sight of every little thing from industrial waste to lolicons was markedly various and elicited shock from numerous characters.

Lastly I want to discuss the romance of Fuura Kafuka and Itoshiki Nozomu, and the really shocking quantity of foreshadowing that entered into establishing the last 2 phases. hammer session toys with the conventions of the harem sub-genre of love manga, however bit does the visitor know just how insidiously Kumeta has actually threatened the idea of the hareem or the conventional romance. Anybody familiar with the harem manga recognizes with the shipping battles that feature it: who will wind up with the MC? Or will it be open-ended without the MC deciding on, so regarding appease all the fans? Or will it be the epic, unattainable real harem-end? Kumeta's option is none of these, rather he goes with a weapons-grade mind fuck that will certainly require you to pour over the manga's earliest chapters to confirm that he had without a doubt been planning this ending from the very start.

manga online - OVERALL: The Good: + A humorous, strange, and informative dark satire funny. + The characters are distinct. + Simple as well as efficient use of anecdotal story telling.

The Bad: - Very japanese, not exactly funny for individuals not versed in Japanese culture. - Simple art work.

hammer session is a manga that needs to read to comprehend why it is great, I can not effectively place it into words. If you're a fan of manga anime then must give it a try. For other related details, you could also visit https://sorelldifilippout1.wixsite.com/allabouthealth/post/9j88sjombceyae06u9arskm1618254761

[ruffoverthinksthings]

Auradon Improvement Initiative Explained! (Part 3): The Divided States of Auradon

Note: This is 1,800 or so words. It is a VERY long read.

“No one argues with Beast’s decision because he’s the best and the smartest and the most Good leader of all,” to paraphrase Melissa de la Cruz (author of the main Descendants book series), is the in-universe justification about how no one complains about Beast’s overarching decisions like the Magic Ban.

To me, it honestly sounds like propaganda from a totalitarian regime like North Korea, the kind of oversimplification and shielding from brutal reality that a parent would give a very young child, or a massive insult to the intelligence of the people of Auradon, especially egregious because I can name at least two Disney Princesses who have “incredible intelligence and studiousness” as one of their key traits, Belle (Beauty and the Beast) and Jasmine (Aladdin).

You could say this is actually even MORE insulting because one of them is actually married to the man, and would have unparalleled influence in his decisions.

This part of my long, drawn-out, and at times “very concerning for the sheer passion I’m putting into it” series of how I would improve Descendants advises doing away with the “United” States of Auradon.

Instead, it would make them the “Divided” Countries of Auradon, unified only by international agreements and trade, but otherwise each their own government.

As of now, Auradon is like a Federal Government, with a central government that enforces nation-wide policy and being the ultimate source of power (Auradon City, Beast, and eventually, Ben), but each state/kingdom has its own regional government that actually handles the nitty-gritty of day-to-day operations and their own unique local issues and concerns (the various monarchs who still rule over their dominions, such as Aladdin and Jasmine over Agrabah, the Emperor over China, or what remains of the Parliament of London).

The regional governments have been shown to have incredible scope of power, as with King Arthur being legally able to literally keep Camelot in the Dark Ages, and Ben is presumably unable to veto that for whatever reason, but as the above quote says, everyone generally falls in line with whatever Beast says because “he’s the King.”

I hate that.

I want disagreements between states, actual fucking politics, diplomacy, and compromise, show how difficult it is to get all of these vastly different cultures to agree on something as inane as the theme for an annual international event, much less trade agreements that could literally end with people starving to death, or dire emergencies like outbreaks of disease that could spread VERY quickly everywhere, largely because of Auradonians habit of gelling together and crowding in the streets for random dance numbers, all whilst singing at the top of their lungs.

Make it so that Ben is frequently shown or referenced to be in long, grueling meetings, constantly overseeing, reading and listening to, and making decisions for the government like an actual King in a modern, interconnected environment like this, and how it’s a delicate high-wire act with a lot of ass-kissing, self-sacrifice, and sometimes pandering to the most frivolous aspects of your fellow rulers and influential figures.

It may be ridiculous to knight a duchess’ dog, but it’s not so ridiculous when that act stands between you and solving a massive uprising in the farmers who demand to finally be able to own the land they’ve been tilling, rather than to still have to pay tribute to the lady of the estate AND taxes to the government.

And then show that this is just Auradon City level politics, that this isn’t even going into how deep, complex, and ridiculous it can get the individual kingdoms, especially a hub of international trade activity like Arendelle.

Make a reference to how they DID try to have Beast be the Supreme Ruler, but after a few months of his dictatorial, no compromises, “Obey me or I will yell at you until you do!” leadership style, everyone got sick of his shit, and realized this was a bad idea.

Teach kids that being a leader (especially a King) doesn’t mean you always have to fight for and get what you want, it’s figuring out the best solution for everyone, and is oftentimes an inglorious, difficult job where the criticisms are many and the praise is few.

And if you constantly throw tantrums and demand everyone bow down to you, that’s a great way to turn your allies against you, have them unite in their desire to kick you out, and make even more trouble for everyone.

(On a side note, I headcanon that relations, professional or personal, between King Beast and Queen Elsa are still strained to this day. The staff make sure they are never alone together in a room.)

All the realism aside, to make everyone hold hands and dance 24/7 is an insult to the classic Disney movies, which thrived on division between the people within a single kingdom, or even a small town.

To use Beauty and the Beast, would Belle and her father Maurice’s plight have been as interesting if they weren’t ostracized for their intelligence and bookishness? If they all got along just fine, and the mob heading up to Beast’s castle was just to politely ask what happened to Belle, not to “Kill the Beast!”?

It would also make the world extremely interesting by giving every individual state/country/kingdom their own identity and theme, a culture and a personality, rather than just be aesthetic choices like a “UN Pride Parade” with all-white, middle class, American paraders wearing traditional costumes of countries they may not have even heard of.

Make it so that Auradon City is like Washington DC, a hub of political activity and where the children of diplomats and politicians generally go to get educated, but it doesn’t have much else going for that—in fact, it would be nothing of value if Auradon didn’t exist.

After all, the value of the Silver Dollar is entirely dependent on there being a government that recognizes its value, otherwise it’s just worth as much as the silver, gold, or jewels it’s made of.

Make China, Arendelle, and Agrabah as the three major economic powers, having massive sway in all political decisions because they could bankrupt or cause untold damage to the World Bank, and be perfectly fine within their own borders as they are completely self-sustaining, or people would trade with them regardless.

Show the effects of a culture and a kingdom that lives and dies by trade and worships the Silver Dollar, what kind of people that would produce, what sorts of products they have going for them and the unique challenges in having all this money flowing around freely.

I can guarantee you that the crime rate wouldn’t be at 0% as Ben says in the novels.

Make Sherwood Forest and Corona the countries for “Gray” characters, the last stop between Auradon and the Isle, and a safe-haven for those that don’t fit in. Redo the Snuggly Duckling scene but on a larger scale, humanize the Islanders and show just how cruel and inhumane the Isle of the Lost is by showing the people that just barely the boats, and have them not be that different from what we’ve seen from the ones actually behind the barrier.

And I would love it if there is mention of rehabilitation centers to make offenders right their ways than leaving them to rot in jail, and these two are the most active states with social programs meant to help the marginalized, the outcast, and the poor—where most “criminals” and “Evil” people originate.

Make London, (Now-Not-So Ancient) Greece, and Atlantis* (not to be confused with the Atlantis in Triton’s Bay) as centers of technological advancement, because they were industrial revolution natives, are known for their artisans and their scientists already (Icarus and Daedalus, among others), and of course, are really intent in reviving their old technology and advancing it to fit the brand new world they live in.

Have the most blatant, fantastic shows of science and technology here, not just smartphones which are so everyday, but flying vehicles en masse, intelligent robots, and Icarus yet again flying to close to the sun, only this time, it’s with jet propulsion and a digital HUD telling him exactly just how high is too high.

Make Bayou de Orleans, France, and Camelot as centers of culture preservation, popular tourist spots that have embraced both the modern amenities of the internet and improvements in infrastructure while not completely (or sometimes, literally) paving over with concrete their rich histories and the natives.

Show people all the numerous bits of culture and history without all the commercialization (or alternatively, make commentary about how they got commercialized and disrespected because of greed), broaden the horizons of your viewers, pay homage to the many wonderful artists and arts that have sadly been forgetten, if not outright erased from history by abusive ruling classes.

Camelot would be particularly interesting as I would see it suffering from King Arthur’s phobia of technology, and even more so with the Bibbidi-Bobbidi-Beep-Boop headcanon before this post.

It could be a criticism of excessively conservative culture, but also acknowledge that people can suffer from “Future Shock,” and you should be helping them adjust to this new world, than claiming they just need to “get with the times” and demeaning them.

Make DunBroch, Neverland, Motunui, and Hawaii as their own independent countries, not part of the union, use them to really hammer in the tension and the problems that came with Beast’s unified rule, and how their “perfect leaders” aren’t so perfect, and banding together and joining hands may not always save the day—the world is much more complex than that.

Above all, though, I’m saying Descendants would really be improved by EMBRACING THE CULTURAL DIVERSITY DISNEY IS TRYING TO SHOW WITH THIS FRANCHISE.

A diverse cast of POCs and retroactively making White characters into POCs is a good start, but until the different cultures they all come from stop being a purely aesthetic matter, and start being a valuable, realistic, and integral part of who they are, we’re going to have problems.

There’s a world of difference about how someone will act, think, or do, depending on where in the world and what kind of society they’ve been raised into.

As of now, Auradon is WAY too “White Upper Class America” for my taste, and could do with a good deal of realism, and showing the other 99% that don’t live in unparalleled luxury, comfort, and privelege, than just exclusively the Royal 1%.

* Atlantis hover vehicles may have been hit by the magic ban, though. But then again, I would imagine they have a lot of exceptions, as full enforcement would mean that EVERY SINGLE ATLANTIAN (again, not to be confused with Ariel’s domain) would be immediately sentenced to death as their life crystals are why they’re still alive after all this time.

#descendants #Disney #auradon improvement initiative explained! #AIIE!

[thesinglesjukebox]

COLDPLAY - ALL I CAN THINK ABOUT IS YOU [5.56] Also: 3D, the Chainsmokers, the past...

Joshua Copperman: A stunning return to form, especially after the low point of "Something Just Like This." There's the intimacy of pre-Parachutes EPs, the massive band-driven crescendos of Rush of Blood to Viva La Vida, and the neon-pop of Mylo Xyloto onwards. It's not the first time they've referenced Massive Attack, nor the first time they've anchored a song with a circular piano riff. "AICTAIY" is a great encapsulation of Coldplay's career up to this point, and only the underwritten, clunky lyrics and crushed mastering keep this from their upper tier. [8]

Maxwell Cavaseno: Ironically, the year of Coldplay's most shameless grab for commercial relevance is the year they say fuck it and divorce themselves from their naked earnestness. It's a satisfying mix of their usual pomp, once that piano bangs them to life and they go into U2 on the Horizon mode, and the ponderous navel-gazing of the intro that makes such a swift rise so effective. It's a simple formula, but frankly, Coldplay have worked so hard at constantly trying to prove they're so much more than their basic influences that it's fair enough that they want to do the old trick they used to do well. [6]

Alex Clifton: I hear echoes of "High Speed" and "Clocks" here, and I'm not sure if that's good (Coldplay returning to their roots!) or bad (recycling the same goddamn chords for the past 17 years!) Still, that's the Coldplay I fell in love with back in 2004, and I much prefer this style over their club thumpers. Between Chris Martin's slurred vocals (where's the crispness we had on Parachutes, where you could identify every word?) and the jam-session build that abruptly ends, this is middle-of-the-road in their discography. But it's the least annoyed I've been with a Coldplay song since 2011, which is really saying something. [5]

Thomas Inskeep: The opening rhythm is reminiscent of Massive Attack's "Teardrop," so I'm immediately predisposed to like this. Then Chris Martin actually shows restraint vocally, making this a darker-shaded, more nighttime-listening Coldplay single -- at least until about three minutes in. Then he starts bellowing, but there's at least a warm choir to counterbalance some of his vocal. They sure know how to screw up their own songs, don't they? [5]

Katherine St Asaph: Everything here from chords to percussion to piano timing, suggests a live-band version of "Teardrop." Which is fine -- given House I'm surprised someone hadn't ripped it off sooner. But "Teardrop" had Liz Fraser. Coldplay has a dude with stitched-together lips and a head cold. [5]

Alfred Soto: Dudes, David Bowie's "Lazarus" already boasted this kind of poignant high end bass line strumming, and no one goes to Coldplay for mumbled hooks over echo, cooed like a pigeon flying over the Grand Canyon. [4]

Iain Mew: I used to listen quite a bit to a CD compilation I made of all the B-sides from Coldplay's singles from Parachutes and before. Intimacy and atmosphere pushed even more to the fore than the album, it had a lot of great songs to be enveloped in. That probably makes me among both the most generous and harshest possible listeners for their new attempt to recapture that sound. It means that the first half of the song still gives me an unmistakable warm feeling, even though the vocal processing adds a little more distance than even "Oceans" did not so long ago. It also means that I have no patience at all when it turns into exploding "Clocks." [6]

Ryo Miyauchi: Languid music and underwater reverb on Chris Martin's voice, this is a sonar blip away from being a sibling to "Oceans" from Ghost Stories. Never mind the attempts at deep metaphors; who else other than Martin reaches for a pair of shoes to express separation? All that nonsense fades away once he gets to shouting straightforward platitudes such as the title at the top of his lungs. [6]

Claire Biddles: Deeply unfashionable as it may be to admit, I still carry a torch for early Coldplay. I don't think I was the only melancholy child who treasured the lilting misery of Parachutes in the alternative music abyss of the pre-Strokes early 2000s. In fact, I know I wasn't, because (even more unfashionably) I joined the band's message board in 2002, resulting in a lifelong friendship with TSJ's very own Iain Mew, who wrote a series of thoughtful posts about the subject for One Week One Band. I don't care much for anything they've done since their debut, but -- as we all do, as selfish music consumers -- I sometimes wonder what they'd sound like if they'd built their subsequent sound around the things I liked most about them; if they hadn't felt the need to always be bombastic, and instead had allowed their more speculative, thoughtful moments room to breathe and grow. The first two and a half minutes of "All I Can Think About Is You" are like a parallel world where my daydreams have miraculously become real -- it's untreated and unpolished and quite lovely, reminding me both of Radiohead's "The Tourist" and of that song's advice: "Hey man, slow down!" But just as it's leading us somewhere interesting, they lose their confidence, overcompensate, and it turns into an overproduced rehash of "Clocks." It's rare that I wish a band would go smaller and quieter, but I can't help but think Coldplay still have unspent potential hidden behind the primary colours and capital letters. [5]

[Read, comment and vote on The Singles Jukebox ]

#Coldplay #All I Can Think About Is You