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The Official Coldplaying Fanfiction Thread 3- The Revival


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This thread, my friends is your new and updated 1 stop shop to post and read any Coldplay fanfiction you've never wanted. My writing partner Angela and I know that Coldplaying used to be a lively fanfiction web site full of writers, and we hope to revive the dorment amazing authors lounging around the threads.


The first chapter of our first fanfiction Twisted Logic will be up soon enough! Feel free to post anything and everything that is an original Colplay fanfiction!


Discussion in the other thread- meaning that if you want to comment something please refrain from commenting on this thread since it's often hard to dig for fanfictions through comments.




Click on that link to be directed to the thread where you can comment to your hearts content!!!


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Hi, everyone. This Angela and Jaytheblue are co-writing this epic story. Here's the first chapter. Let us know what you think!


Twisted Logic




Chapter 1


Obsessing. That's what I do. I spend hours and hours scouring the Internet for the things that are the fibre of my being. It changes every day, one day it's Doctor Who, the other, Fallout Boy. But one obsession stays the same continually, Coldplay.


I can't remember a time where I wasn't obsessed with Coldplay. Honestly, I'm pretty sure I came out of the womb with Yellow playing. I mean, 15 years, 15 years of completely obsessing over one band, and I haven't gotten tired yet.


My tired green eyes scrolled across another tumblr post, then another, and another. They really never seemed to stop. New random information about people that I stalk to a pulp and then toss away.


I scrolled on more and more until I saw a post from my beloved Coldplay updates page that I spend way too much time reading and re reading posts on.


I scanned the glowing poster on my old rickety laptop which had been used way too much. I breathed in deeply and took in the sweaty smell of my partially rotting room that I spend my life in, and adjusted the collar of my much-too-big Oasis t-shirt. (Yes, I went through an Oasis stage... )


I re read the post again and again to see if I wasn't dreaming. It was a generally gorgeous big picture of Chris Martin's amazingly fabulous face. Something recent I figured, he was wearing some button over a tight fitting navy blue shirt. Ah, I could stare at that shirt forever. That smile plastered on his face never died- it never did on those pictures of course. There he was, Chris Martin, lead singer of Coldplay, frozen in time on my computer screen, yet still my closest friend on so many levels.


I live to see pictures of Chris Martin. Well, all of Coldplay really, they all seem to be amazingly attractive one way or another. I stared at the picture more, scanning a piece of paper Chris was holding, which got me so excited in the first place. I mean, collar adjusting excited is just hands down the most exciting anything could get.


'Spend a day with me, Chris Martin anywhere you want! Enter what your favourite Coldplay song is on Coldplay.com and be entered in a draw for a day with me! :)'


I took a small breath in again and sighed. There was no way I was ever going to win this. Me, Sam, the unluckiest person on earth. Not a chance. God, I can't even begin to count the number of times I fell down stairs and broke bones, when I was that one mark of from getting perfect, when I never get chosen for things I want to do. Or how my continuous tweets to just about everybody on the planet just pass unnoticed... By just about everybody. Even that extra that nobody cares about on Game of Thrones.


I sigh once more, and almost scroll down. Until I hear a buzz from the most obnoxious phone in the universe. Like it’s the most pointless thing in the universe. It continuously buzzes for no reason. I mean, honestly phone, I don't want a notification for every single reply to every single post I comment on, and an email to top it off. And let's face it, I comment on a lot of posts.


It was a reply to a comment I left on an Instagram post a million years ago. I mean, so long ago that I barely even remember what I commented in the first place. I brushed a stray brown hair out of my face and turned to read the reply of some random dude who probably spent too much time reading comments on a post about Paper Towns- a book I read a while ago. It was something about how everybody gets a miracle.


That post was funny to me. Man, I got nothing. I got back-of-the-class guy with smelly armpits. I got barely passing grades and a constant desire to sleep. I have a yearning to spend my life in my room, and never see the light of day. I'm Sam. I'm fifteen years old. I don't get miracles.


Naturally, I must have commented something like that on the post and an account with the username @OMG_SHIPPING_GAZEL commented back, 'Sometimes you can't get a miracle if you don't expand your horizons.'


I stopped for a second, and turned back to the Chris Martin on the computer burning my eyes. I stared it down real good, that picture, looking at my some sort off brand Samsung out of the corner of my eye. Then I eyed the walls of unspecified posters lining the walls of my room.


I stayed like that for a while, looking at Chris, then my phone, then my posters then back at Chris. Until something washed over me. A feeling that could not really be describing as anything but the cheesiest expression of all time, YOLO. I clicked a link on the bottom of the photo with the will of my whole life force, and filled in every field adrenaline rushing in my veins. My fingers pounded at the falling apart keyboard of my laptop and I hoped to God I put in the right information.


I sat there, sagging in my faded yellow bed comforter for a second, and clicked that enter button with a big smile on my face. Laughing a little, as I realized this was probably one of the most thrilling moments of my life so far.



The next few following weeks were a mess. Summer was approaching. All the girls in school were having the odd pool party. I, of course rejected every invitation. God, I couldn't stand a second in other peoples company. Especially some of those girls who actually have a life.


I instead stayed next to my trusty computer like a good stalker should. I scrolled through my countless random Facebook emails and stopped at a very peculiar one. One labeled 'Coldplay Contest Results'. My mind turned to a couple of weeks ago, in a time similar to this. With me sat in my room just the same, living my life as the seconds slowly droned on.


I clicked hesitantly on the email, wondering who won the contest in the first place. And then I paused. No, it couldn't be. It couldn't be... Me.


Yet the computer told me something else. 'CONGRATULATIONS ON WINNING THE CONTEST SAM YOU NOW GET TO SPEND THE DAY WITH CHRIS MARTIN. Please wait for a call from Coldplay management later today for more details.' The bolded letters jumped at me through the screen. No way. I couldn't win the 'Guess how many Jellybeans are in the jar' contest because people misinterpreted my 1 as a 7. There was no way I won this without some type of complication.


I pondered a bit more, staring at a stash of mismatched albums on a bookshelf across my generally closet-like room. Then I heard a buzz. I put my hand to my face once more. Not my phone again.


And then it buzzed again, and again, and again. I finally realized I was getting a call. A call from none other than Coldplay management thanks to the ID.


I answered with shaky hands and breath. Making sure I pressed the talk button before I held it to my scared yet excited face. My stomach did backflips as I heard an extremely familiar voice echo through my phone's speaker.


"Hello, this is Chris Martin, is this Sam?"


I paused completely, at a loss for any words whatsoever. This was it, the guy that heads the band I basically call the backbone to my life, talking to me. Addressing me, and me only.


I thought back to that post that made me click that enter button in the first place. Maybe all the unluckiness in my life was just surrounding me so all the luck could happen now. Maybe this was my miracle. And little did I know it was just starting.




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Hello hello hello!! Here's a nice big wad of Coldplay fan fiction from Angela and I for you! So here you are!! (Also- anybody is open to posting on this don't you worry!!!)


Twisted Logic

Chapter 2





I talked a bit of nonsense with Chris for the next few minutes, after I actually figured out how to formulate words of course. I basically retold him my whole life's story and added on a bit of how I lived IN THE MIDDLE OF NOWHERE. He laughed at that one- but he didn't really understand the complete and utter boredom I experienced in a town as small as mine. After a long rant, Chris chimed in. “Ok. So where do you want to spend the day with me?” Chris asked.

I thought long and hard... Wasn't the next town over having a carnival or something? Of course little old Mere with a population of 2000 would never have one of those.

“What about a carnival?” I suggested. How awesome would it be to go on the Flying Dragons with Chris, I thought.

“Ok." Shuffling and mumbling was heard in the distance. Clarifying where everything was and all. "I'm only in London now. Meet you there at ten tomorrow morning?” Chris asked. I smiled into the phone.

“Sure. That sounds great.” I said, almost bursting out of my skin from excitement. Was I doing anything tomorrow anyways? I laughed inwardly- nothing besides tumblr of course. After that, we agreed on a meeting place and exchanged our goodbyes.

I couldn’t believe it. I was going to the carnival with perhaps the sexiest guy in Coldplay, Chris Martin!


The next morning, I jumped out of bed and got dressed quickly and headed out the door to take a cramped shuttle bus to the carnival. It was a sweet little place that reeked like fries and sweaty men, sat by a small little lake. When I got there, I saw Chris standing by the ticket counter. My eyes brightened as he walked over to me and shook my hand.

“You must be Sam.” He said. “It’s great to finally meet you.” I stared into his eyes- man they were even better staring at me in real life than on my computer screen.

“Likewise.” I muttered, still not believing that this was really happening.

After we got our tickets, I grabbed a map and we started walking around- not that there was really much to navigate to in the first place. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted the first thing I wanted to ride: the Flying Horse Carousel.

“Could we go on that?” I asked Chris.

“Sure.” He said shyly following me over to it. Chris wasn't really speaking too much- or maybe I just looked too sick to my stomach to actually say anything. It was one of the largest carousels I'd ever seen and had many beautifully painted horses. Each horse had a seat belt to wear while riding. I could understand why; it went pretty fast. I just hoped Chris wasn’t going to get nervous- he probably looked as sick as me and then some- but still gorgeous nonetheless. We each found a horse next to each other. I was on a black and blue one while Chris found a brown and white one. They were so majestic and beautiful. They looked amazing. As we were waiting for the ride to start, some young girls got on behind us their several pigtails shone in the bright light coming from the carousel.

“They started talking loudly.

“Why is that tall guy on here?” one of them asked. “He looks like he’s too big to be on here with us.” The girl next to her giggled and pointed at Chris. I took no notice of this and tried to think of other rides to go on after this was over. Suddenly, the ride began, and our horses flew way up into the air. I squealed with delight and smiled at Chris.

“Isn’t this fun?” I asked.

“Yeah, it is.” Chris replied. “I didn’t realize we would be going this high though. Now I see why we have to wear seat belts on this thing.” He smiled sweetly and I almost audibly swooned. After a few minutes, the horses slowed to a stop and we got off.

“What do you want to do next?” Chris asked.

“What about the Flying Dragons?” I asked, remembering my thoughts from the day before.

“Alright.” Chris said. We were just taking our seats when I heard a voice say, “Your friend shouldn’t’ be on here. He’s too tall for this ride.” I recognized it as one of the girls who was on the carousel with us.

“The reason he’s with me is because I meet the height requirement and I don’t want to ride by myself.” I said, feeling a little angry that people weren’t treating Chris well so far. I mean I was only 5 feet short- I could pass as a 10 year old! As the ride started, the girl kept glancing at Chris and making comments about how he was too big and why he was even with me to begin with. If only she knew why…


After a few more rides and a quick bite to eat from some crowded fish and chips stand, Chris took the map from me and started walking toward a large roller coaster. I began to feel nervous; I’m not one to go on roller coasters, especially if they go upside-down.

“Let’s get on this.” He said somewhat softly, “This is a ride I’m definitely not too big for.” I laughed a little uncomfortably and extremely awkwardly as we boarded the ride. The next thing I knew, we were climbing a very big hill. I squeezed Chris’s hand as panic set in.




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  • 2 months later...

I posted this is the second thread, but then this popped up and I never got around to reposting it here. So, story time!


My First Kiss




Hella original name because this is pretty much totally inspired by this lovely little video (starts at 20 seconds in):







My name’s Christopher Martin, aged 11, 5th grade class of the gorgeous Ms. Gregory, and I got my first kiss today. Come to think of it, I also got my first black eye, and it’s the first time I knocked another kid’s teeth out. Literally. And it all happened in the span of 20 minutes. Allow me to begin my story before the events of this fortunate recess:


As I told you, I am in the 5th grade class of the wonderful, amazing, stylish, and talented Ms. Gregory. She’s much too old, she’s like, 27 or something, but she’s attractive. And, before you get any ideas, no, I did not get my kiss from her (as much as any boy in this school would love that). I have been top dog in her class, with my buddies Guy and Will; I’m the musical one, Guy is the athletic one, and Will is somewhere in-between with brawn and brains that are unmatched. Save for that one girl, Samantha Brown, but she’s a show-off who knows how to spell “planetarium” and other big science words without having to try and write it down first. She’s cute too, but … where was I going with this again?




Recently, my status has been challenged by these two newbies who were moved from their class, because they’re too advanced for their class and got moved in to ours or something. They came up from the 4th grade section, and they’re both wicked smart, and one of them knows how to play guitar! That’s MY job! I wow the class with my piano skills in music class, and now, he comes in out of nowhere and starts to steal my thunder with his own guitar skills. I can’t carry a piano around with me! It’s not fair! So, I admit, I got jealous of him, big deal! He got all the attention from the other kids, including my friends, and he caught Ms. Gregory’s eye. I guess you could say I became territorial.


I started to resent this kid, but his friend isn’t any better. He’s smart, can sing, play piano (better than me!), and he’s athletic. He’s PERFECT. And the two of them being friends and being smart and talented and … it makes me sick to think they can take mine and my friends’ spotlight. Their names? Jon and Phil.


The Jon kid is the one with the guitar, and he’s kinda cute too, not gonna lie, and maybe it was those strawberry blond curls of his that caught Ms. Gregory’s attention. I don’t know nor do I care what it was, but I just get this weird mix of feelings whenever I see him; I’m angry, I’m scared, I get these weird feelings in my stomach, and whenever I wanna try and make peace with him to be the bigger person and get Ms. Gregory back, I end up losing control of myself and end up yelling at him and being a jerk! At least, when she’s around, and that’s the only time that matters! Otherwise, I just kinda ignore him, and it’s like, I dunno, he’s kinda like a girl. He’s so sensitive and seems so nice and yet, he makes me feel so weird and I don’t know what to do! I just kinda end up being angry and confused.


But he’s not my only problem, oh no, he’s nothing compared to his little friend, Phil. Someone I wished had never set foot in my classroom. He’s just too perfect! He’s nice, talented, smart, and he knows how to speak to grown ups and it’s like, he doesn’t even have to try to flirt with the teacher in the way us little boys do, he’s got those perpetually rosy cheeks and semi-toothless smile that any girl would swoon for! He’s the main problem, and he’s real protective of that other kid, Jon, which means he gets in my way a lot. He makes me look even worse, sticking up for his friend when I don’t know why I’m being a jerk! In front of Ms. Gregory too, it’s just so embarrassing!!


However, that is nothing in comparison to what happened a few weeks later, now, after they’d been in our class for a while. This is where the events of our tragic recess begin.


I was sitting on the swing, minding my own business, contemplating if I was willing to attempt being a part of the football or join the small group that were playing rugby, or to start pumping and jump off and fly for a bit, when this Jon kid comes up to me. His face was beat red, and he had this hat on, the one that he wore in and out of school with everyday, and that he wasn’t supposed to have on the playground.


“You’re not supposed to have that, you know?” I told him.


He just stood there, his face red and hugging himself, breathing a bit heavier and trying to find something to say.


“What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?”


He shook his head, the red on his cheeks intensifying.


“Then talk to me! What do you want with me anyway, pretty boy? You’ve got everything you could possibly want! You got bumped up a level, have an amazing best friend, know how to play guitar, and you’ve go the eyes of my Ms. Gregory. Congratulations! Coming over to rub it in my face?!”


I ran back, my butt still planted firmly on the swing seat, and I push forward when this kid grabs my arm and pulls me away, pulling me under the little dinosaur, the one place the teachers have difficulty seeing us, which indicates to me there’s a problem. He sat me down and puffed a bit, his face was now a bright red, still somehow deepening in shade, and he was really shaking now.


I look him up and down, put my hands behind me and point at him, eyebrow raised, “You got something to say mate?”


WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM?!” he screamed.


“Excuse me?”


“You! You and your … you-ness! I’ve just been trying to be nice to you and try to fit in, but all you’ve done is yell at me and isolate me from the others!! They don’t like me because YOU don’t like me!! The only person I have is the one you call my best friend, and he only sticks up for me because we got bumped up together! He doesn’t know me that well! He’s barely my friend, and I was trying to be friends with you because a lot of the other kids talk about you and how cool you are and I just wanted to be somebody for the first time in my life! And when I figured out who you were I-”


“Whoa, whoa, time out, you think I’m cool?”


YES! You’re like, great! You can sing and play piano, and you’re good at art and you’re really really awesome at maths and reading and you’re really cute and you make me feel awful and so-”




He stopped there, his face was burning now, his breathing shaky and tears were starting to well up in his eyes. This is when things pick up. He leaned in and kissed me.


My first kiss, taken by a boy.


It was just like that! He was quick about it; I could feel the heat of his blush when his lips pressed up to mine. It was only a second, and then, by the time I’d blinked, he’d turned around and bolted out of the little cove, his hands covering his eyes as tears began running down his cheeks.


I sat there, and just sat. I didn’t know what had just happened, let alone understand why it felt so … nice! It was amazing! It made me feel all these butterflies in my stomach and I could feel my face begin to burn red with embarrassment and a strange sense of joy and sadness. I was in there for a minute or two before I crawled out of the cove and sat back on my swing, elbows on my knees and palms holding my head up. I had the biggest, dumbest smile across my face and I couldn’t tell you why.


I was in this state for about five minutes, rewinding and reliving what had happened just minutes before, and I ran from behind the swing, aiming myself from behind and jumping. I grabbed the chains and stood on the seat of the swing, letting out a big, “WOO HOO!” and flew off at the highest arc of swing. I felt the air go through my curls, up my shirt and jacket, and then gravity pulled me back down to earth. This is when things went bad. I landed and then saw this Phil kid in front of me, a football in his hands and he was clearly angry.


WHAT DID YOU DO TO HIM?!” he screamed, throwing the ball at my face before I even had the chance to react.


The ball hit me square in the eye, his aim was awful, but it still knocked me back and onto the ground, and I landed with a thud.


“What do you mean?!” I screamed at him, once I was able to see two of him.


“You left my friend crying AGAIN, Martin,” Phil said, grabbing me by the collar, “Now, we both know I’m younger than you, but we BOTH know that I’m stronger than you are. So, you’re either gonna explain yourself or that eye’s bruise-to-be is gonna get a lot darker.”


“Hold on!” I managed to say, “I didn’t do anything, he’s the one who-”


Before I could say anything else, I felt another strike straight to where the ball had hit me, “DO NOT EVEN TRY TO GIVE ME THAT!


Ow ..” I moaned.


“Phil! Stop it!!” I heard, and I managed to see the shoes of Jon, the beat up trainers were a relief to see.


“What, Jon?! He made you cry! AGAIN!” Phil screamed, “This jerk has done enough to you, and it’s high time he got his just desserts!”


“That’s not why I was crying you idiot!!” Jon screamed. I sat up and moaned, feeling my eye beginning to swell and bruise. Jon ran to my side and supported me, looking at my eye and looked back up at Phil, “Please, leave him alone. It was my own fault I was crying this time. I just couldn’t tell someone I liked them, it just goes wrong. Just like it always has.”


“This guy is the first person you’ve EVER expressed interest in, Jon,” Phil said, “at least, as far as I know, and you’re only ten years old. Girls are still gross to us, so I find it hard that you’ve-”


“Shut up!” Jon said, hugging me and hiding his face into my shoulder, the fabric of his hat rubbing up against my swelling face.


“Oh, you baby. You gotta learn to stick up for yourself, I can’t keep doing it for you.”


Phil grabbed the football and walked off. I could feel Jon shake and begin to cry again, which drove me off the deep end. He clearly cared for me, and I did too now? I wasn’t sure, but god knows I was mad. I pushed Jon off of me and ran after Phil. I caught up to him, grabbed his shoulder, and swung my fist at him.


My eyes were closed, but I aimed for the face, hoping I’d land my hit, and I did. Right in the mouth. I opened my eyes when I heard him hit the ground, and I saw him cough, open his mouth and pull out a bloody baby tooth. He pocketed the tooth and looked at me.


“You’ve got balls,” he said, “but you’ve challenged the wrong person!” He lunged at me, and I began to fight back, falling over and throwing blind punches and screaming back and forth at each other. Phil had crossed a line, and while I know I’d crossed plenty, but I couldn’t just take what he’d said sitting down! And it wasn’t even at me!


Our scuffle didn’t last long; Ms. Gregory came and broke the two of us up, Jon standing behind her with tears in his eyes, which I only then noticed were a bright green. They were prettier than any girl’s eyes I’d ever seen, and I couldn’t help but think that maybe I could like a boy.


The two of us were sent to the nurse’s office, where we cleaned up and got ice and band-aids for our various scrapes and cuts. I had to hold a big ice pack to my eye; Phil had to gargle with salt water, and then held ice on his gushing lower gum. We were cleaned up and called in for a meeting with our parents, who had been called in, and the principal and poor Ms. Gregory who looked so disappointed in us both.


At the end of the day though, after all the trouble, fighting, and scolding we got, no one brought up that I’d gotten my first kiss! I guess that detail had been carefully removed from the story, and I’m glad it was. I feel like the adults would’ve frowned upon us kissing, but that didn’t stop me from doing what I did after everything was said and done.


The next day at recess, I found Jon drawing with the chalks we had and I sat down next to him, “Hi.”


He looked up and jumped, and backed away from me a bit, “I’m sorry!”


I smiled at him and laughed, “For what?”


“You know, yesterday. Everything that happened was my fault! I got so upset and then Phil punched you and-”


“Phil punched me, not you.”


“Yeah, b- but I …” his face grew red and he hid his face in his hands, “I’m sorry!”


“It’s okay,” I said, hugging him, “I know how you felt, actually. And I don’t know if you still feel that way, but, uh, you know, that’s – what you did- I mean …”


I felt Jon’s arms wrap around me and squeeze me, and we just sat there in a hug for a little bit. We kinda smiled at each other and started drawing with the chalk, drawing our favorite pokémon and animals and things like that. We talked and laughed and told each other stories and about ourselves! It was really great! Then it was time for recess to end. Everyone lined up and was about to head inside, but I took Jon under the dinosaur again, hiding in the cove and waiting for just the right moment.


“Look man, you’re gonna have to forgive me for this,” I told him, putting my hands on his reddening cheeks, “but I owe you.”


I felt my cheeks flare up as I leaned in and felt my lips press up to his, kissing him and hearing the bell for the end of recess.


“I really like you, Jon,” I told him, holding him close to me, “I’m sorry I was a jerk.”


I felt the heat coming off of the other boy’s cheeks when I felt his arms around me again. He started to laugh and he kissed my bruised eye, “I really like you too.”




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