presented without comment (I am exhibiting massive amounts of restraint)

when stan plays kyle songs on his guitar unprovoked it’s different because even though kyle didn’t ask it still has him laid up kicking his feet and giggling. it would be annoying if it were anyone else but when stan does it it’s sweet and endearing and romantic

I remember that ended because she fell asleep during a therapy session. And then she told me I was boring her. So if you get a therapist and it's not the right one, try again. Eventually you'll find one. Some people are just pieces of shit and there's nothing you can do about that.

-Rob Thomas

I love this interview, here's the link to the whole thing:

https://www.gq.com/story/real-life-diet-rob-thomas?fbclid=PAAab23ktvhHhjP64WH8scNRR4Qd7YwzfcRPpOawpfAMPvkB-paVBCr_0Sm2w_aem_AfnlY8l5Rn25vd27X0_XDQF9-RLjXbJQzrtPt7vIVHt7NpRM_IUhgeiUvj_5Xkk2Tq8

this is THE song for Nace right now

https://youtu.be/5WvXA6P2Po4

You’ll be strong, you’ll be rich in love, you will carry on, but no, oh no, no you won’t be mine

tired of spotify trying to lure me in saying mb20 is in a playlist and then having like one or two songs by them so i made this playlist. (designed to be played on shuffle lmao)

Wild Dogs (Running in a Slow Dream) is going to haunt me, I fear

Daniel Ricciardo gets a job offer from Matchbox Twenty after they see him singing one of their hits

Freshly sacked McLaren star Daniel Ricciardo gets a job offer from superstar band Matchbox Twenty after they see him belting out one of their hits  Daniel Ricciardo offered job by Matchbox Twenty after posting car karaoke clip  The Aussie Formula One star has been recently sacked by McLaren  Fans on social media were quick to point out that Ricciardo needs a job By James Cooney For Daily Mail Australia Published: 20:56 EDT, 24 August 2022 | Updated: 20:56 EDT, 24 August 2022 Aussie Formula 1 driver Daniel Ricciardo will leave McLaren a year early after mutually agreeing to terminate his contract at the end of this season - but he may have scored a gig with rock band Matchbox Twenty. The eight-time grand prix winner was on holiday in the US when he filmed himself driving and singing along to one of the American stars' biggest hits. In clip, the 33-year-old Aussie belts out his best version of the band's smash 1997 single '3AM' as he cruises down a freeway. Aussie Formula 1 driver Daniel Ricciardo recorded himself singing along to Matchbox Twenty while on holidays in the US The Aussie star (pictured) has been recently sacked by McLaren and his future plans are still unclear - but he might have a lifeline in the music industry The clip didn't escape the notice of the band, who took to social media to let him know they were impressed. 'If you're ever looking for a side gig outside of @F1 let us know @danielricciardo!' the band wrote on Twitter. Fans were quick to chime in, noting that Ricciardo might be looking for a new line of work in light of his recent sacking. 'He'll definitely need it next year,' wrote one. 'He's actually looking for a main gig now! Hopefully y'all sign him!' joked another. 'As a roadie,' said a third commenter. American rock band Matchbox Twenty (pictured above) saw footage of Ricciardo singing their hit song 3AM and offered him a job The Aussie actually has some experience in the music industry after scoring a guest appearance on a Gang Of Youths album playing drums and backing vocals in 2020. Ricciardo has endured a horror two-season stint with McLaren in which he struggled to find form and was frequently outperformed by his British teammate Lando Norris. The Aussie has struggled for form during his two-season stint, being markedly outperformed by his less experienced team-mate Lando Norris in qualifying and trailing him by 57 points after 13 races this year.   With Ricciardo's departure now confirmed, 21-year-old Formula Two champion Oscar Piastri is expected to take his fellow Australian's place. Ricciardo was under contract until the end of 2023 and only last month insisted he was 'committed to McLaren until the end of next year'.  He could be set for a payout in the region of $24million, taking into account his massive salary and performance bonuses. 'It's been a privilege to be a part of the McLaren Racing family for the last two seasons but following several months of discussions with Zak & Andreas we have decided to terminate my contract with the team early and agree to mutually part ways at the end of this season,' Ricciardo said in an official statement. Ricciardo's midseason break ends this weekend as he suits up for the Belgian Grand Prix - his first race since the news of his split with McLaren broke 'I'll be announcing my own future plans in due course but regardless of what this next chapter brings, I have no regrets and am proud of the effort and work I gave McLaren, especially the win in Monza, last season. 'I've enjoyed working with everyone at McLaren both trackside and back in Woking and will be giving my all on and off track as we enjoy the remainder of the season together. 'I've never been more motivated to compete and be a part of a sport that I love so much and look forward to what comes next.' Advertisement Share or comment on this article: Daniel Ricciardo gets a job offer from Matchbox Twenty after they see him singing one of their hits via Formula One | Mail Online https://www.dailymail.co.uk?ns_mchannel=rss&ns_campaign=1490&ito=1490

also matchbox twenty fucking rock completely unironically. they put on a great show

That feeling when one of your favorite bands is gonna be at the Walmart Amphitheater tonight but you don't have tickets. But you did have them pre-covid but they cancelled like 2 years in a row and you sold the tickets back...and now you're broke 😭😭😭

Santana featuring Rob Thomas - Smooth 1999

"Smooth" is a song performed by American rockband Santana and Rob Thomas of Matchbox Twenty, who sings the lead vocals. It was released as the lead single from Santana's eighteenth studio album, Supernatural (1999). It was originally conceived by Itaal Shur as a song called "Room 17". The lyrics were stripped off and the track was given to Rob Thomas, who re-wrote the lyrics and melody and re-titled it "Smooth", then recorded the song as a demo to play for Santana. After hearing the song, Santana decided to have Thomas record the final version. Thomas originally had George Michael in mind to sing the song.

The single became a chart-topping hit in 1999, spending 12 consecutive weeks at number one on the Billboard Hot 100. "Smooth" stayed in the top 10 of the Billboard Hot 100 for 30 weeks and the top 100 for 58 weeks. In the UK, "Smooth" peaked at number three, spending eight weeks in the top 40. The song also peaked at number three in Ireland, spending ten weeks on the Irish Singles Chart. The song also peaked at number one in Canada for a week, number two in Greece, number four in Australia, and number nine in Austria.

On Billboard magazine's rankings of the top songs of the first 50 years of the Billboard Hot 100 singles chart, "Smooth" was ranked as the number-two song overall and the number-one rock song in the history of the chart.

"Smooth" received a total of 85,6% yes votes!

The Difference

2024, England.

When a portal appears in your living room and Gale Dekarios tumbles out of it, you think you are going insane. But truth is stranger than fiction, and things are rarely what they seem.

A story of love and its complications, the boundaries between reality and fiction, and the cages we build for ourselves.

[The title is taken from Matchbox Twenty's "The Difference", which is the soundtrack to this fic.]

Disclaimers: Non-18+. Gale x Tav/OC. Alternate universe (isekai). Mental health issues. Angst and hurt/comfort. Breaking the fourth wall/meta.

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

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

Liked this fic? Check out my other work.

Savage God by PottersPink, binding by DCB Bindery

Summary: Past, present, future, Steve knows Bucky Barnes. It’s why he recognized him when he found him in that alley in April of 1942, even though Bucky was older, stronger, wearier; he called himself The Asset, and had a metal fucking arm. He flinched when Steve tried to touch him, and when Steve told him he loved him, his first response was to ask why. The Asset was only with Steve in 1942 for a few days, but it’s enough to change the course of Steve’s life forever; the journey to becoming Captain America is coloured with urgency, with an undercurrent of fear and determination that in the end he just can’t manage to hide from everyone — But it was all for nothing. Steve saves Bucky from Zola, just to lose him on the train. Their second chance, wasted. Seventy years later, Steve wakes up in the twenty-first century, and he doesn’t know whether to be heartbroken or hopeful when some of the things Bucky revealed to him in 1942 start falling into place.

Specs: Square back bradel, red edges, marbled patterned endpapers and endbands, A6, with slipcase.

A gripping read from @potterspink, undoubtedly one of my all time favorites. I’ve revisited this fic over and over again and it is no less satisfying to read each time!

On the process: I knew I wanted to base the design of this binding around a matchbox, and decided to go with Diamond matches. Really liked how it turned out, especially with the striker design on the spine of the book. Had a lot of fun bringing in elements of the story into the slipcase design too, and the slipcase construction was so much simpler and easier than I expected!

I’m quite pleased with the matches marking parts one to three as well, adding a little pop of red that ties everything together. I’m binding three editions of this fic for Binderary so check out the paperback & collector's edition for a more in depth look at the typeset!

More DCB Bindery Projects

Linger, Chapter 1: She's So Mean

Summary: From the moment you meet her, you can't stand Melissa Schemmenti.

Warnings: Strong Language

----

You’ve always been one to go above and beyond. Whether it was because you were truly an ambitious go-getter, or because it was actually rooted in a deep-seated fear of letting others down, who can say? What mattered was you were reliable. You did your best to stay organized and on top of things, despite the fact that you struggled with it. You thrived when it came to creative problem-solving. And you were never, ever late.

At least, that’s the mantra you repeated to yourself as you mentally practiced the apology you’d be giving Abbott Elementary’s principal. Glancing at the watch on your wrist as you burst through the front door, you curse under your breath. Arriving almost a full 45 minutes later than you were supposed to was not the way to make the first impression you wanted. You’d been a bundle of nerves the night before, prepping the following day’s lunch as much as possible. You’d made a concerted effort to get to bed at a decent hour, you’d laid out your “first day subbing at a new school” outfit, and you’d even set a few different alarms in order to prevent this exact situation.

It might have slipped your attention that the alarms you’d set were actually for the PM.

The surge of adrenaline when you’d seen 7:02 AM blinking back at you from the digital clock on your bedside table as you woke was more effective than any cup of coffee. You were barely finished dressing before you were out the front door with your shoulder bag in tow - hair piled in an unkempt mess on your head and makeup, socks, and half-prepped lunch forsaken in your haste.

Mercifully, most subs had pre-planned lessons to follow, so you didn’t have to worry about throwing off your student’s schedules too much today. But seeing as this was your first day at Abbott, you weren’t familiar with the building layout. Even worse, you’d never met the principal, which means you have no idea what kind of reaction to expect in regard to your tardiness.

You knew students started to arrive at Abbott at 7:30 for an 8 o’clock start to the day, and you’d been instructed to arrive no later than 7:15. You looked up from your watch to get your bearings in the unfamiliar environment. Just up the hall from the doors you entered, you saw an office with glass walls and what looked like a check in area where there stood a tall, stunning black woman.

She was dressed stylishly, shockingly so for someone who works in an elementary school. A form-fitting olive green dress hugged her curves, which were emphasized by the large brown belt around her waist. Her hair was long and looked right from a salon, her nails meticulously cared for. She wore red lipstick and her eye makeup could easily be seen on the cover of a magazine. Her face was buried in her phone, so she hadn’t noticed you enter the building. You approached her, your hectic morning creating a distinctly frazzled air around you.

You felt silly and underdressed standing next to her, your normally put-together appearance ditched in favor of time. You silently thanked your past self for having the foresight to lay out your clothes for the day. Even still, your plain black work trousers, white button-down, and sneakers felt distinctly out of place next to this woman. As you stood there, she didn’t look up from her phone.

Unsure what else to do, after a moment you made yourself known by clearing your throat. Without looking up from her phone, a single, sculpted brow raised in question, followed by a short, “What do you want?”

Taken aback, you stuttered, “I-I, uh, I’m the principal- I mean, I’m looking for the principal.” You felt heat rising in your cheeks at your mistake. ‘Good one,’ you thought.

At least your slip-up gained you some ground. The woman lowered her phone and glanced at you, giving you a once-over from head to toe. “What do you want with the principal? If you’re here to complain about something, you’ll have to send it in an email or Instagram DM, she’s on vacation.”

Your heart dropped to your stomach - the principal wasn’t even here? You weren’t sure if Abbott had a vice principal. You were already late, you didn’t know where you were supposed to go, and you weren’t sure if the vaguely-unfriendly woman in front of you would be able to help.

“Oh, actually I’m a sub-” you started.

You were cut off by a loud, “Oh! Well, why didn’t you say so? Why are you dressed like a waiter?”

You frowned. She was right. You did look like a waiter.

You were stunned as the woman’s entire demeanor changed. A large smile graced her features as she held out her hand. “Ava Coleman, principal of Abbott Elementary.” You stared at the outstretched hand before taking it, your eyebrows furrowed.

“Wait, did you just lie to my face about being on vacation?”

“Usually when someone introduces themself, you’re supposed to do it back. Unless you’re like Leo DiCaprio levels of famous, obviously,” she prompts you, entirely ignoring your question.

You give her your name, overwhelmed by the whirlwind that has been this morning and the whiplash of the woman’s sudden change in attitude. “Nice to meet you,” Ava says with a glowing smile as she releases your hand. “You know you’re late, right?”

You nod, rubbing the back of your neck sheepishly. All things considered, Ava didn’t seem upset, or even remotely reprimanding, for that matter. She might as well have been asking about the weather she was so nonchalant. Having braced yourself for a lecture or a raised voice, you found yourself feeling just the slightest bit relieved. “I’m sorry about that. This isn’t… it’s not the norm for me, I promise. It won’t happen again.”

“Girl, I am not pressed,” Ava says, brushing off your apology with a wave of her hand. “At least you showed up at all. Trying to get a sub lately has been like trying to get Taylor Swift tickets - a whole lot of waiting just to find out there aren’t any left.” She gives a cheesy grin at her own joke, not waiting for you to react before continuing, “You’ll actually be with another teacher. Her aide has appendicitis, she’s out for at least the next week and a half.”

You were surprised, not unpleasantly so. You’d expected to have your own room, but there were plus sides to subbing in for teaching aides. “Oh, okay. That will be good actually, I can get a feel for things and watch how she runs her class, maybe ask her for pointers,” you state as you start to follow Ava down the hall.

Ava glances back at you, a look you can’t quite discern in her eye. “Uh, yeah,” she said, entirely unconvincing. “I’m sure she’d love to share pointers. She’s been a teacher here for a long time, so she does stuff a certain way.”

Ava’s words reignite some of the anxiety you’d felt starting to dissipate. You thought having another teacher to lead the class and watch would be a good thing, but Ava is making it seem like this teacher would be difficult. You’d had plenty of old, strict, mean teachers as a student. When you first started subbing, you’d met a teacher at another school who went through teaching aides like Duracell batteries. She’d been in the same school for well over 35 years, so it was essentially her way or the highway. She was so strict and particular, most people ended up taking the highway.

Ava stopped at a door on the right side of the hall, and as she pulled the door open, you heard a chorus of tiny voices say, “Good morning Miss Schemmenti!” At least you’d managed to make it before any actual instruction began.

Popping her head in the room, you heard Ava say, “Melissa, you got a sub today.” A ripple of ‘oohs’ and giggles spread throughout the class. Kids were always interested in a new face.

“Oh really?” came a dulcet voice with the strongest Philly accent you’d heard in a minute. It was tinged with incredulity and annoyance. “A sub who can’t be bothered to show up on time?”

Your stomach churned with anxiety and shame, but you felt a slight spike of annoyance as well. You suppose you couldn’t blame her, but you hadn’t even met this woman yet. You pushed these feelings aside as best you could as Ava replied, “You’re lucky you got a sub at all girl. I didn’t have to put her in your class. You’re welcome!” Stepping aside, she gestures you into the room.

The first thing you notice is the sheer amount of kids crammed into one room. There’s a division in the center and one side seems to be slightly older. The confusion must be evident on your face, because Ava chimes in, “We lost a third-grade teacher last minute and we couldn’t afford another one, so we combined a second and third grade class. You get two for one! I love a good deal myself.” Her joke doesn’t land.

Two grades in one room was really unconventional. How could both classes be receiving the right instruction? You couldn’t wrap your brain around it. Either the second graders had to be feeling left behind, or the third graders were learning the same things they’d learned last year. Not to mention the number of kids presented a challenge itself. ‘There have to be close to thirty kids in this room!’ you thought.

The velvety voice from before chimed in, “You could at least try not to look overwhelmed. Jeez, how old are you anyway, kid? I’m not gonna be able to tell the difference between you and the students.” Some small giggles echoed around the room as you turned.

Whatever you had been expecting, this woman was not it. ‘Is everyone working in this school hot?’ you grimaced to yourself as your eyes took in the gorgeous red-headed woman who stood before you. She was older, which in your mind only enhanced her beauty. She was a few inches taller than you, although you noticed the heeled boots she wore. Her deep red hair was luscious, with soft waves begging to have fingers combed through them. A single eyebrow was raised and a decidedly unimpressed expression graced her face, a dusky rose color painting her pursed cupid's bow lips. Her nose was soft yet prominent - it suited her immensely. Her eyes were slightly close-set, a captivating green-hazel color. They were rimmed with a subtle smokey shadow that made them pop.

She had on a long-sleeved black shirt and a few necklaces decorated her collarbones. But what caught your attention most were the leather pants that clung tightly to her soft hips.

You’d always been a sucker for a woman in leather.

“You gonna acknowledge me or not? Do I need to get you a copy of the lesson plan, or a coloring sheet?” She asked, hands on her cocked hips. Another ripple of giggles ricocheted throughout the room. Your cheeks flame with embarrassment. You were used to being teased about your height and young appearance by people you knew, not by strangers using it as a way to question your position at work.

Feeling a surge of indignation and annoyance, you opened your mouth before you could stop yourself and shot back, “I’m 28 years old - how old are you?”

A loud chorus of “Ooooh!” from the class, and in a split-second, you knew you’d fucked up.

A fire ignited behind Melissa’s eyes, her eyebrows coming together and her weight shifting forward. Her posture was rigid, coiled like a rattlesnake, ready to strike at any moment. Her nostrils flared as she bit out, “I’m none-of-your-business years old.” Her tone was dangerous and sharp. The class waited with bated breath to see what you’d do. Would the new sub start a fight with Miss Schemmenti? The tension in the air could be cut with a knife.

You heard, “Neither of you swing before I start recording!” from Ava.

Your heart was rattling inside your chest. ‘And I thought being late would be enough to make the wrong first impression.’ But you didn’t feel sorry for what you said. It wasn’t fair for her to be so critical. If she wanted to play the age card, then you’d meet her where she was at. She had no right to belittle you, even if you were less experienced.

You decided then and there that you didn’t like Melissa Schemmenti.

But you needed to get past this - you both had a class to teach, after all. Standing your ground, you managed to hold her gaze as you said evenly, “If you would be so kind as to point me to my desk? I believe we have a school day to start.” You were immensely proud that your voice didn’t tremble, despite the way your pulse thrummed in your ears.

Glaring at you for a moment longer, you knew you’d live to see another day when Melissa shifted her weight back again, arms folding across her chest. 'Her well-endowed chest,' you thought. You immediately chastised yourself. You needed to get a grip. This was your workplace and you should be keeping things professional, although that had almost gone out the window already. Even if she was alarmingly hot, she’d disrespected you without so much as a “hello.” The woman had been ready to tear you limb from limb a moment ago, and not in a sexy way.

Melissa tilted her head with a pointed look toward the back corner of the room, and you glanced over to see a small desk. You met her gaze once more and muttered a “Thank you.” But as you started to turn, you realized neither she nor the class knew your name. Stopping, you introduced yourself, instinctively holding out a hand.

It occurred to you how incredibly awkward it was to offer to shake the hand of the woman you’d just slighted, and you’re thankful you can write off the heat still lingering on your cheeks as your temper.

For a moment, she stared disdainfully at your proffered hand, but she sent a furtive glance toward the class and a look of realization passed over her face - her students had been watching all of this unfold. Maybe she wanted to set a good example, or maybe she just wanted to move on, but she took your hand begrudgingly. Her grip was a bit too tight. “Miss Schemmenti,” she said, and you noted the lack of a first name. Her teeth were gritted behind a strained smile. The flash in her eyes made the message clear. You are not on my good side.

Ava made a disapproving sound. “Man, I thought I was gonna get something good,” she said, and you caught the light glinting off of what you suspect was her phone camera as she turned and walked away.

You released Melissa's hand and retreated to the back of the room. As you deposited your things on what was now your desk, Melissa began, “Alright my little cannolis, enough dilly-dallying. Shawnte, will you please help me pass out these math sheets?” Her irritation was masked impeccably behind a practiced teacher's voice as she split a stack of papers with a small girl from the third-grade side of the room.

You exhaled deeply. It was only 8:15 and you’d managed to make your first enemy at Abbott. Unpacking your things, you found you couldn’t resist watching Melissa as she made her way around the room. You didn't consider yourself quick to anger, but somehow this woman had managed to piss you off in a matter of minutes. And you were supposed to spend at least the next week and a half with her?

As she passed by you, her eyes shot up and briefly made contact with yours. You felt the heat of her glare piercing into you. It seems she couldn’t resist another pointed comment on your tardiness. “Maybe tomorrow, you could get here on time and do your job, so I don’t have to ask a student to help pass out papers.”

This was going to be a long week.

based on my experience with ocd

The Years - Virginia Woolf / Girl, Interrupted / Come with Me Now - KONGOS / Unwell - Matchbox Twenty / The Walking Dead / Sharp Objects / ‘Notes' from The Underground - Fyodor Dostoevsky / Franz Kafka / Overdrive - Katy Rose / Obsessions - MARINA / Pi (1998) / Ride - Lana Del Rey / Empty - Olivia O’Brien / Let You Down - NF / Every Single Night - Fiona Apple / Spring Breakers / Heavy - Linkin Park, Kiiara / Holding On To You - twenty one pilots / Thinking Bout You - Ariana Grande / Hurricane - MS MR / Teen Wolf 3x14 / The Monster - Eminem, Rihanna / My House - PVRIS / Sick - Cassie Steele / Teen Wolf 3x18 / Winona Ryder / The Monster - Eminem, Rihanna / Oh My God - The Pretty Reckless / Jujutsu Kaisen (x) / Where Is My Mind? - Pixies / Afraid - The Neighbourhood / Sickman - Alice In Chains