#even when its just the album on shuffle

[aposterous]

I have an honest to god Pavlovian response to the Camp Here and There afternoon and evening announcement songs

[nintendont2502]

One thing that'll always drive me insane is when two songs on an album fade into each other - like this is just a brief compilation of all the smith street ones I could find at like 2 am and. God

[justapieceintheirgames]

Hotel staff: When is this bitch going to leave she was supposed to check out half an hour ago

Me: *doing an impromptu dance in the bathroom with only one lid of eyeliner* HOW ARE YOU GOING TO DRESS UP TONIGHT?? SHOW ME BAAABBYYYYYYYY

[springgirlshowers]

could you do joost x gn reader, but it’s literally just them cuddling in bed during a thunderstorm??

Monsoon Season

Pairing: Joost x GN!Reader (no pronouns used)

CW: none!

WC: 726

AN: such a cutey cute lil concept!! fun fact: i wrote this as it was storming hard as hell outside lmao

Just as you were about to send Joost a text, asking how far away he was, you heard the front door open behind.

As you sat up from your spot on the couch, you were met with Joost standing with grocery bags in his hands, absolutely drenched from the rain.

It had started storming about ten minutes ago and Joost must’ve got caught in the middle of the rain on the way back from a recording session.

“I got the stuff you said we needed for dinner.” Joost gave you an amused smile as he held up the bag.

You immediately got up and went over to him, as much as you tried not to, you giggled at a bit at his soaked state.

“Thank you.” You smiled, giving him a small kiss, “Now, I’ll put these away, you go change.” You said as you took the bags from his hands, he just nodded and kicked off his shoes, walking down the hallway into your shared bedroom to change into drier clothes.

You put the groceries into the fridge and kitchen cabinets while waiting for Joost to get finished changing.

You were already done putting everything away by the time he returned, wearing a pair of sweatpants and a green hoodie, camouflage patterns on the hood. His hair had dried a bit more, now messier.

Joost walked up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“Better?” You asked, putting your hands on top of his.

“Mhm, much.” He let out a happy breath. It felt so peaceful in the apartment, the hard rain from outside with the warm light from the lamp in the living room made the perfect cozy atmosphere.

Until a flash of lightning and loud rumble of thunder struck outside, scaring and making both of you jump of you a tiny bit.

“The weather app said it’s gonna be like this for the next few days.” You sighed, turning around in his grasp.

“I guess we’ll be stuck inside for the next few days then.” He moved his hands from your waist to the sides of your face, you nearly shuddered when felt how cold his palms were.

“You’re really cold. You’re sure you feel better?”

“I could use some warming up.” He shrugged, a knowing smirk on his face. You rolled your eyes playfully, letting him take your hands and drag you into the bedroom.

You got into bed first, shuffling under the sheets while Joost followed, laying on top of you.

“I’m so tired. Today was so exhausting.” He mumbled against your chest. Joost enjoyed making music, but this feeling wasn’t uncommon for him after being at the studio for hours on end.

“How’s the album going?” You hummed, pulling the blankets up over the both of you.

“Its frustrating. Nothing is turning out the way I want it to.” He let out an annoyed sigh at the thought of it. “I’m honestly just thinking about scrapping most of the songs because of it.”

“Oh come on, you’ll get them how you want them eventually.” You frowned. “You always do.” You added, hoping it would bring some relief.

“You really think so?”

“I know so.” You ran your hands through his hair, he let out a pleased breath and wrapped his arms a little bit tighter around you in response.

Even though you didn’t have a good look at his face, you could feel his smile against your skin.

The sound of the rain hitting the window and soft thunder in the distance with the warmth of your body against his and you raking your hands through his hair made him feel the most relaxed he’s been in weeks.

It didn’t take long after for his eyelids to become droopy, eventually shutting his eyes in complete bliss.

“I was thinking dinner tomorrow could be pasta. But you might have to go back into the rain again to get the noodles.” You joked, there was no response from Joost.

“Joost?” You said softly, no response again.

Craning your neck a bit to get a better look at his face, you could see he was absolutely knocked out.

His eyes shut, lips slightly parted, face completely relaxed. You smiled to yourself, deciding maybe you could let him sleep for a little bit before you got up.

[jgracie]

THE GOOD WITCH — PERCY + CHILD OF HECATE

masterlist | rules

❝ hi, could you pls write percy x child of hecate hcs ? ❞ — anon

in which percy dates a child of hecate

pairing percy jackson x hecate!reader

warnings none:)

on the radio . . . the good witch (maisie peters)

an the idea for this came to me in a dream (not even joking) so i had to write it ofc... haven't done cabin hcs in a WHILE i miss them sm!! ALSO I LISTENED TO THE GOOD WITCH ALBUM WHILE WRITING THIS STREAM THE GOOD WITCH

Demigod extractions were things often reserved for the satyrs to do. Occasionally, a demigod would accompany a satyr but that was rare since the more demigods in a group, the stronger their overall scent and the more likely they are to be ambushed by monsters

When there’s a demigod with as powerful of a scent as Phoebe’s, however, it didn’t really matter how many demigods you brought along, since she alone was bound to attract monsters - in fact, it was better to bring demigods along, since they were better trained in combat than satyrs

That’s why Percy was currently on a bus heading for Brooklyn at six in the morning, trying his hardest not to fall asleep on the shoulder of the person sitting next to him: you

He didn’t know much about you other than that you’re a child of Hecate and you often volunteered when they needed a demigod on the extraction trips, but he didn’t think you’d like spending the entire drive with him drooling all over your shoulder

As you headed to Brooklyn, Marigold the satyr was yapping away about how powerful this demigod was. Apparently, she was only seven yet somehow managed to be a monster magnet. A demigod as powerful as that could easily be a child of the big three, which you assumed was why Percy accompanied you this time around

The extraction itself went pretty smoothly. Trying her best to hold back her tears, Phoebe’s mother handed her over to you and you gave her a quick summary of what Camp Half-Blood was like, handing her a pamphlet made by the Iris kids while Percy scouted the area for any monsters

Finding none, Percy told Phoebe to say goodbye to her mother, which she did, and the four of you got inside the car to begin your journey back to camp

“When will I see my mommy again?” The little girl said as she lightly tapped your arm. As you looked into her big, sea green eyes, you couldn’t help but notice a striking resemblance between her and Percy, who was silently watching your interaction go down

Giving her a sympathetic smile, you said, “I’m sure she’ll visit soon.” Noticing the sadness in the way she pouted her lips, you smiled and pulled out a deck of cards from your bag

“D’you wanna see a magic trick?” You asked, shuffling the cards. Instantly, her eyes lit up and she eagerly nodded. Being Hecate’s child meant you could do all sorts of magic tricks with ease, so you often carried a deck of cards and various other objects on you when doing demigod extractions in order to cheer the kids up

The trick was simple: she’d choose a card, look at it, put it back in the deck, the deck would be shuffled and then you’d pick the same card out. Despite its simplicity, it made the girl’s day, and the car was quickly filled with laughs and squeals of excitement as you spent the rest of the ride performing all sorts of magic tricks

Unbeknownst to you, Percy was watching you intently, feeling his heart rate get quicker and quicker as he fell harder and harder for you. Yes, he barely knew you, but he couldn’t help but fall when your compassionate heart captivated his own and your bright smile rivalled Apollo’s sun

You went your separate ways once you got to camp, but Percy never forgot that ride back to Camp Half-Blood

Phoebe was claimed just a day after she’d arrived to camp and, as luck would have it, your suspicions were right. She was a daughter of Poseidon, making her Percy’s sister

The boy in question helped her move into cabin three from eleven, and as he moved the ample amount of belongings she had to her bunk, tried to get to know his new sister

However, she didn’t seem to care to know him, she just wanted to see you again. She hadn’t seen you since you parted ways at camp and missed you an awful lot so she just kept asking Percy for you until he gave up and went to fetch you

(It didn’t take that much for him to give up, since he secretly wanted to see you again too)

When Percy showed up at your cabin, although curfew was nearing, you were more than happy to accompany him to his own cabin, since you’d been planning to go and check up on Phoebe at some point anyway. It warmed your heart to know she’d been thinking of you as well

As soon as you appeared, Phoebe clung to you and begged you to show her more tricks, which you gladly did. However, you also made sure to vouch for Percy and show her how cool he is since you felt bad for the guy. His first ever demigod sibling, and she seems to care about someone from a different cabin more than him

Soon enough, it was curfew, and Phoebe had finally tired herself out and fallen asleep. There was only one small issue: you couldn’t leave cabin three unless you were willing to risk the harpies catching you, which you didn’t

“You can stay here,” Percy said, his voice hushed so his sister wouldn’t wake up. It was almost like he could read your mind. You would’ve denied his offer, not wanting to intrude on his space, but you really weren’t in the mood to get in trouble that night

So, you accepted. Neither of you were tired enough to go to bed though, so after a little bit of discussion, you settled on watching a movie together

Perks of the Poseidon cabin? Since there were only two residents, Percy took initiative and replaced a few of the beds with a giant living room of sorts. There was a couch, a table and a demigod safe TV, courtesy of the Hephaestus cabin

Unfortunately, the movie you two ended up choosing was incredibly boring. You never thought a movie could be this boring. Maybe it was because your eyes were starting to get heavy, but you had no idea what the plot was supposed to be or where it was going

At around the one hour mark, your eyes shut and you drifted off to sleep on Percy’s shoulder. Percy, ever the gentleman, closed the TV and carried you to one of the empty beds in his cabin

As he tucked you in, he couldn’t help but take note of how beautiful you were. This was the first time he got to take a good look at you, and he seized the opportunity, engraving the shape of your lips and the colour of your eyelashes into his memory

Maybe he was falling

After that night, two significant things happened: you and Percy started seeing each other much more often, and Percy started keeping a journal

The former was because Phoebe still really enjoyed being around you. Sure, she loved her big brother, but you were always going to be her favourite. You enjoyed the young girl’s company too, so you didn’t mind being at cabin three for most of the day

You also really liked being around Percy. Being at Poseidon’s cabin all the time meant you were bound to get to know him more, and you two discovered you actually had a lot more in common than you would’ve ever thought

You taught him some of your simpler magic tricks, and he showed you his own tricks with water. You both also vowed to watch more interesting movies

The latter was because Percy’s mother told him to. She thought it’d be a good way for him to let all his feelings out when he didn’t want to talk to anyone, and he trusted his mom with his life, so why wouldn’t he?

The journal worked, of course. He’d talk about the challenging life of the average demigod and how he wished he were a normal mortal, but that wasn’t his main use for it. Mostly, he’d talk about you

You, who’d wrapped him around your finger without knowing it. You, who he’d fallen hopelessly in love with. Since he couldn’t tell anyone about his crush on you in fear of rejection, Percy decided he’d tell the journal, since no one would read it anyway

If only he knew how wrong he was

You see, Phoebe was a very perceptive child. She saw her big brother writing in his little notebook then putting it under his bed. The one time she asked him what he was writing about, he got super nervous and refused to show her

That, of course, meant she had to know. So when Percy was helping a group of hippocampi at the beach once, Phoebe decided to discover what he was writing about

She couldn’t read much of it, but she did recognise your name. As soon as she saw it, she got excited and ran to cabin 20 to show you. Although you and Percy were oblivious about your feelings towards each other, she wasn’t, so seeing your name in her brother’s journal excited her

You weren’t surprised to see Phoebe at the door of your cabin. You’d taught her how to get there during her first week at camp in case she ever needed you, so she was there often

You were, however, surprised to see Percy Jackson completely out of breath and running after her. Unfortunately, he was a little too slow

“Read it!” Phoebe squealed, giving you the journal. Confusedly, you looked down and began to read. As you took in all the words of pure love and infatuation, pure love and infatuation for you, you felt your face heat up

Never in a million years did you think Percy would reciprocate your feelings. He was just a silly crush of yours, that could never escalate into anything more, right?

Percy finally caught up with his sister. He didn’t think a seven year old could run so fast. “Y/N, I’m so sorry, you weren’t supposed to read that, it’s silly, it’s–”

“Is it true?” You asked, your eyes and your voice barely above a whisper

All he could do was nod

You started dating after that, of course. Phoebe would spend the rest of her life taking credit for the existence of Camp Half-Blood’s favourite couple

After you and Percy became official, she stopped referring to you as Y/N whenever she’d speak about you to all her other friends at camp. You became “Percy’s soulmate Y/N” (yes soulmate specifically. She saw him writing it once and it stuck)

The children of Camp Half-Blood quickly become your biggest fans. Whenever they’d see you walking around hand-in-hand, they’d all squeal and whisper to each other about how they wanted to be just like you

Phoebe and Percy fought over you all the time. He wanted to get kisses and cuddles from the love of his life, Phoebe wanted to show you her cartwheels and handstands. Sibling banter ensued

Still, you managed to get your alone time

Percy loves asking you for tarot readings. He loves watching your hands eloquently shuffle the cards, he loves watching your eyes light up at the cards that pop out, he loves how excited you get as you explain what it all means, he loves it all

He’ll ask you for tarot readings for everything just because he knows you get really excited to do them, especially when it’s for someone who doesn’t know what any of it means since you get to yap about it

Important exam the next day? Tarot reading. Quest he’s worried about? Tarot reading

“Babe, babe,” Percy said, startling you. You put down Ginger (the Hecate cabin pet cat in my head) and turned to face your boyfriend, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek as he sat across you

Grabbing your tarot deck from your bedside table, Percy handed it to you and said, “I need a reading. I’m about to go and check the minifridge in my cabin for blue coke and I’d like to know if I’ll end up being disappointed.”

You deadpanned, “Perce, that’s not really how it works…”

He asked you for a reading about your relationship once and SO many good cards popped out you were convinced your mother was somehow present. You got so giggly and shy you could barely get through the reading

He loves bringing that reading up in the randomest of conversations (or when someone flirts with you) to remind everyone you two are absolutely meant to be

One time, he gave you a shell to wear on your camp necklace. You treasured it and, in return, gave him a crystal to wear on his

When I say the boy was obsessed!!! Every time he’d catch someone’s eyes flitting down to his camp necklace, he’d rave about his cool lover from cabin 20 and how they gave him this crystal

He asks you about all the properties of the crystals and you think he isn’t paying much attention and is probably bored but he’s actually making a mental note of all of them in his head

The next time you visit cabin three, you find crystals littered all over the place. Percy gives you a tour and recites all their qualities to you and why he chose to put each one where he did and you burst into tears because no one outside of your cabin cared about your interests as much as he did

Oh also you’re the cooler one out of the two of you #loserpercyagenda everyone LOVESSS to tease Percy about how whipped he is for you

[petcr3]

don't shed no tears | bradley bradshaw x reader

summary: you have a terrible day. bradley has a plan.

word count: 845

warnings: bradley calls the reader my girl, this one is very short lol!

You almost hold it together. 

Really, you almost do.

But your work day seemed determined never to end. Each time you thought you’d gotten on top of what you needed to do, there was a new fire to put out. It was as if everything that could have gone wrong did, and just about everyone you encountered during your day was in a foul mood. 

Even so, you had pushed through frustration after frustration, and finally made it home. It’s your day off tomorrow and you get to spend the rest of your night with your boyfriend. Things are looking up.

Any other day, you would have laughed it off. But when you finally let yourself plop down on the couch that’s flush with your living room wall and bang your head, the dam just breaks. 

The sound of a particularly forceful “motherfucker!” sends Bradley bolting downstairs, and when he sees you crouched forward, your face in your hands, he’s on his knees in front of you in seconds.

“Honey? What happened, are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” you say miserably.

“You don’t sound fine.” You don’t respond for a moment. The rough pad of his thumb wipes a wayward tear from your cheek. “You’re crying, hun.”

“I’m fine,” you repeat, voice wavering, “I just hit my head.”

“You hit your head?” You want to curl up and wither away. This is so embarrassing. It’s only the worry in his voice that makes you look up.

“Not hard. I just clonked it when I sat down. I’m… I had a really bad day. I’m sorry.” 

“Hey,” he says softly, “don’t apologize. Not your fault you had a bad day. C’mere.” Bradley leans forward, still kneeling in front of you, and wraps you in his arms. You sag into his embrace, and tears begin to darken the fabric of his sweatshirt. 

“Do you wanna talk about it?” he asks. A little sob works its way out of your chest.

“Not–– not really.” You feel Bradley’s mustache before his lips as he turns to press a kiss to your temple.

“That’s okay,” he coos, “It’s okay.” He’s quiet for a moment, and then: “I have an idea.” 

You aren’t particularly pleased when he gets up, but you don’t have it in you to complain. His footfalls are quiet on the carpet as he pads over to the record player and starts fiddling around.

“What are you doing?” you hazard after a moment.

“I can’t tell you,” he says. “Just hang on a second–– this is gonna be romantic as shit.” You let out a little giggle through your tears, and he grins over his shoulder at you. Leave it to Bradley to make you laugh when all you want to do is crawl into a hole and never come out.

A little flash of blue catches your eye as he finds whatever album he’s been searching for, but you don’t get a good enough look to suss out what it is. Finally, he drops the needle, and you hear the opening notes of No Woman No Cry. The organ plays softly, and you sniffle as a fresh wave of tears hits you. Bradley holds out his hand. 

“Dance with me?” You wipe your eyes and nod, shuffling into his arms. He presses a kiss to the crown of your head and draws you in, settling you against his chest with a hand at the nape of your neck. Relief floods through you at the warmth of his touch, the slow and comforting beat of the music, the sway of your bodies.

“I love you,” you mumble into his chest.

“I love you too, baby. I’m sorry you had a bad day.”

“It’s much better now.” That makes him smile. The rest of the song plays out to comfortable silence as you rock back and forth together. It’s a longer cut–– the live version Bradley is playing is a little more than seven minutes–– and eventually, you find that you’re cried out. As the song ends and the crowd on the recording begins to cheer, you tilt your chin up to look at him.

“Thank you,” you whisper.

“Hey, anything to see my girl smile.” And you do, tilting your head down bashfully. 

As the cheers fade, the next song on the record begins to play and the plucky guitar of Could You Be Loved fills the room. Unable to help himself, Bradley begins to bob along with the rhythm. He withdraws a little from the embrace and takes your hands, bouncing your arms back and forth. You feign a pout, but it’s useless. As usual, Bradley Bradshaw is sunshine, fending off the gathering clouds until all you can see is him. You relent and begin to match his movements and he breaks into a beautiful, enormous grin.

As you dance late into the night, you remember that this is what it’s all about. That no matter how awful your day is, you have someone to come home to that knows, without fail, how to lift you up.

[nervoussagittarius]

20191009 I Like Her

matt sturniolo x reader

summary: y/n shows matt a song that explains the way he's been feeling

warnings: none just fluff

"matt, have you ever listened to mac demarco? " you ask as you lay on his bed. there's been a comfortable silence between the two of you as you search for new music and matt sits at his desk playing around with his computer settings.

somehow you had come across one of your old playlists that focused primarily on the album "2" by mac demarco.

while he was one of your favorite artists growing up, you never got the chance to listen to his newer music. matt looked at you for a second and held up a finger signaling that he'd answer you shortly, after he finished changing his desktop files around.

matt was trying to play it cool. he had been having these weird feelings towards you for the past couple days. he didn't know how they developed or what they meant. what he did know is that he didn't want to come off strong or seem overly interested in you even though his mind was screaming at him to say how he's been feeling.

truth be told, he didn't really know how he felt. he had only known you for a couple of months and you started coming around the house more because you were close with nick. though, as time went on you formed a bond with matt that was comfortable and safe. matt was always able to tell when he started liking a girl, but it was harder to find the words to explain how he felt about you.

matt felt the need to keep any relationship between you two strictly platonic. you were nick's friend first, and while he didn't think nick would care he didn't want to lose the trust that he had built with his brother. he vowed to himself that nothing romantic could happen between you two, but as days went on that thought flew further to the back of his head.

"mac demarco," matt asks, he looked at you again. "is he the one who sings salad days'"

"yeah and he has a lot of other good music, but i just found his newest album and there's one hundred and ninety nine songs on it"

you pressed shuffle on the album. it was intriguing that a majority of the songs just had numbers for titles,and no vocals to them, just melodys.

"this song is '20200821 cowboy shit' its different" you said as you both laughed listening to the lyrics.

"it's definitely something" matt replied still not taking his eyes off of you. he admired the way your eyes sparkled as you flicked through the songs. he noticed how your lips turned up in a twinge of a smile when you heard a lyric you liked. he loved moments with you like this. he could sit here with you forever.

"y/n" matt said as the next song started playing. he was nervous to ask the next question. he wanted to know if you could put a name to the emotions he was feeling. you had always been better with this kind of stuff. you knew how to communicate how you felt, and you were always an open book with him. "do you think it's possible for us to like each other as more than friends? i don't really know how to explain it but i've been having these thoughts recently and i cant tell if they're just plationic"

you stared at him in shock of what he was saying. you've had feelings for matt for a few weeks now, but you didn't want to make things weird by saying something.

the words to '20191009 i like her' played in the background as you two just looked at each other. you kept replaying matts question in your head to think of the best way to answer, while matt was focused intently on the lyrics to the song to try to distract himself from the tension that had begun to rise in his room.

i'd give the world to her

as long as my heart's still beating

as long as she's next to me

as long as this love still fleeting

because i like her

matt thought you looked beautiful even though it felt like he could see the wheels turning in your head as you tried to answer his question.

listening to the lyrics, he felt this thought clear, and he knew in this moment that he couldn't say his feeling were just friendly anymore. sensing this, you made your way over to him. he looked at you warily, almost expecting you to yell at him and tell him that that he was crazy.

there was another beat of silence. "i like you y/n, a lot. i would do anything for you. will you please give me a chance?"

without second thought, you cupped his face in your hands and kissed the boy that you had quickly come to like.

could it be make believe?

am i just walking through a dream?

haven't felt this way in

such a long time, i do believe

that i like her

an: i've never written anything like this before so please tell me if you liked it or if you think i should change something. i'm always open to receiving feedback. i really appreciate you guys being here and if i could give each of you a forehead kiss i would

[rubyblue2005]

Au where when Saiki was younger, he sometimes ran into Aren's mom injured and helped her out, and he became something like an unofficial medic to her and her little group. Sometimes when Saiki was patching her up, she would vaguely talk about her kid around his age and stuff. Well, she wouldn't mention Aren by name or talk about him out loud but Saiki just reads her thoughts and so he vaguely knows about her little Hoodlum but then she and her gang moved and Saiki being a little too good at Rock Paper Scissors happened and so they got separated and drifted apart.

Only for some odd years later (Like, four or five) and Aren transfers into Saiki's class with his whole trying to be a normie spiel and how he is totally not gonna be a punk anymore. Aren doesn't really look like his parents (In the same way of how Kusuo and Kusuke don't really look like Kurumi) so Saiki doesn't really suspect anything- and neither does Aren, and they carry on. Imagine a similar situation as the street magician Chouno Uryoku and how his ex-wife did not look anything like how the dude thought of her.

Saiki never really got out of his Street Medic habits and Aren sometimes coming to school with some scrapes from gangsters either trying to pick a fight or drag him back into his past only exacerbates Saiki's medic habits. Like, he always used to carry bandages and alcohol wipes and antibiotic ointment, but had talked to just carrying bandages because a whole medkit had been annoying to carry and needless for an esper like him. Though, he had started carrying a bit more for Kaidou and Hairo when they become closer. (Saiki adds the antibiotic ointment back into his repertoire for Aren)

When they gets close enough and Aren invites them to his house is when the fun really starts. Kaidou and Nendo find Aren's baby album and look through it and everything. But Saiki spots a smaller album on the book shelf and is thinking "Better not show too many of these family albums to those two, who knows what we might see" trying not to think about the album collections documenting his parent's dates and stuff.

And when Aren comes back into the room the four are just vibing and hanging out, Aren even bought out some Coffee jelly as an offering thank you for coming ya introverted bean. So, even Saiki is in a pretty good mood. And then they hear the front door open and close with shuffling and stuff with a 'We're home, Hoodlum!' and Aren going to greet his parents like the totally good kid he is, and Saiki is like "??? That voice sounds kinda familar."

And whadduya know!

When Aren's mom turns around from putting stuff in the fridge, Saiki instanting recognizes her and its the same lady he helped all those years ago! I imagine its not a big dramatic moment but there is a "What a surprise" moment. And she's just like "Haha! Little Medic, you're friends with my brat, what a small world! I hope he's treating you and his other friends right."

And Aren is standing there after trying to introduce his friends like "What." Kaidou says "You know Saiki???? But he never leaves his house!" But Nendou is the one to be like "Wow, Aren's Mom, how do you know my buddy?"'

To which Aren's Mom says briefly that Saiki used to get discounts from the stores near her hangouts (Rough part of town, but great prices for stingy child espers) and how he used to help her and some of her girls. Aren is over here dumbfounded, and Kaidou is just like, "wouldn't he have been like, six, a decade ago??" That Saiki pointedly does not confirm.

But Saiki and Aren's mom are over here just casually talking while all the other teenagers are standing there, bewildered. Like, Aren is over here being like "Hold on, I thought Saiki was a goody-goody, He knows my mom?!?" Meanwhile:

Aren's Mom: How's that brother of yours?

Saiki: Moved to Britain and is still a sore loser.

Aren's Mom: Haha, good to know he's not bothering ya! So, how's my little hoodlum doing in class? Not being a brat is he?

Saiki in a true show of open candidness: If he was a bother, he wouldn't still be in my class.

And Kaidou and Aren are nearly shitting their pants from this being like "SAIKI?????" with it just completely flying over Nendo's head.

Then, the rest of the hang out is Aren's Mom sharing stories of tiny Aren while Saiki is eating more Coffee Jelly

[slvt4em1lyprenti2s]

Will you please be quiet?

Summary: You have a song stuck in your head and Emily one has one way to make you be quiet.

Word Count: 1.1k

Fluff, kissing

Pairings: Emily Prentiss x fem!reader

!NOT PROOFREAD!

Reader POV:

“I wanna be your endgame, I wanna be your first string!” I sang as I was getting ready for the day. Music blasting through my apartment, as I pack my go-bag.

I go over to my vanity and put on some quick makeup and keep humming Endgame as it echos through the walls of my bedroom.

I hop into my car to go to work and put my Spotify on shuffle, Endgame comes on again. I’m not complaining but oh my god. This is going to be stuck in my head for days now.

Time skip to when reader gets to Quantico*

I’m minding my own business waiting for my coffee to pour while humming Endgame as Emily walks up behind me.

“Got a song stuck in your head?” Her hand lightly brushed over my waist as she went to stand next to me. Oh my goodness this woman makes butterflies erupt in my stomach by such a small touch.

“Ha, yeah. That obvious huh?” She let out a small laugh as she nodded.

“Yeah well you’ve been here what, an hour? And I don’t think I’ve heard anything but that time leave your mouth.” I lowered my head and shook it laughing at her observation, a blush coating my cheeks.

“Unfortunately, I didn’t come here just to talk about the song planting itself in that pretty little head of yours-“ I don’t let her finish, partially because the blush on my cheek is becoming too noticeable now and also because I know exactly what she’s going to say.

“We have a case.”

“Yes, we do, meet in the round table in 10.” She gives me a small smile and walks away.

Time skip to once they’re on the jet on the way to the case*

“Big reputation, big reputation, ohh you and me, we’d be a big conversation.” I mutter under my breath as I sit next to Emily looking over the file.

“Oh my god! You’re still going huh?” I’m snapped out of my thoughts by her soothing voice, I laugh and look at her honey brown eyes.

“Sorry!” I laughed as I looked back down to the file, her hand found its way onto my thigh under the table, careful not to draw attention to us. “It’s okay, I don’t mind.”

An uncontrollable smile bloomed on my face. I gave her hand a squeeze to say thanks and we both went back to the task at hand.

Time skip to when they’re looking through evidence at the local PD*

“You got anything?” Like asked Rossi.

“Nothing, if this guy did have any enemies he was quick to bury the hatchet as not to be tracked down.” As soon as he said this my brain flickered on with Endgame. Again.

“And I bury hatchets but I keep maps of where I put ‘em.” I hear a giggle next to me and look over and find Emily gazing at me.

“Don’t even,” I sighed “It’s starting to annoy me as well.” She laughed and shook her head and looked back down at the evidence like we had collected from the scenes.

Time skip to a little later*

“Hey what you humming?” Tara asked me as she looked up from the crime scene photos on the table.

“Endgame by Taylor Swift.” I reply without looking up, trying to piece together where the unsub was going to strike next.

“Oh my god! I love Taylor Swift! What’s your favourite album?” Before I could respond Spencer came into the room we, and the rest of the team, were in and started talking.

“Guys, I know where the unsub is going to strike next. The house he grew up in has been condemned and scheduled for demolition so that’s probably where he’s been taking his victims. If he sticks to his pattern, he’ll be going back there at some point after 10pm tonight.” We all started to pack up our things when Emily called out,

“Guys, we need to do a stakeout. We’ll scare him away if we go in there guns drawn and then he’ll go underground so, Reid and JJ, park on the curb near the house, Tara and Matt, go to the end of the road, Rossi and Luke to the other end of the road, you’ll act as a kind of covert roadblock and me and y/n will park up in an lay-by near the house.”

We all got up and went to our assigned SUV and started driving to our destinations. On the way there Emily turned the radio on.

“And I heard about you, ooh, you like the bad ones too.”

“Oh my god! It’s everywhere!” We laughed together at this. What are the chances?! We kept the radio on nonetheless.

As we pulled into the parking space we sat in a comfortable silence for a while, just enjoying each other presence and the peace of an evening stakeout. The sun was setting and I absentmindedly started humming under my breath yet again.

“I don’t wanna miss you, like the other girls do. I don’t wanna hurt yo-“ before I could finish I feel my chin being tugged to the side and a soft pair of lips meeting my own.

To say I was shocked at first was an understatement but I soon melted into the kiss, her thumb caressed my face as our lips moved together. It was the most amazing moment of my life to date. Emily slowly pulled away her face still barely a centimetre away from my own.

“What was that for?” I asked, still skeptical.

“It’s the only thing that I could think of to stop you from singing that damn song!” Laughter broke out between us and as it died down she pulled me back in again for a brief kiss.

“Dinner at my place tomorrow?” She asked gazing into my eyes with our hands intertwined.

“Are you, Unit Chief Emily Prentiss, asking me out on a date?” I smiled so hard my cheeks hurt.

“Yes, I am.” She giggled.

“In that case, dinner tomorrow sounds awesome.” I kiss her again, savouring the taste of her on my lips.

“I’ll take you to and from work so you can stay the night and not worry about your car.” I say thank you as I pull her into another kiss, this one lasting a little longer than the others.

Her hand reaches for the back of my head and pulls me in closer, her tongue swiping my bottom lip asking for permission. Granting it, I open my mouth and let her explore.

“Hey guy! Stop sucking each other’s faces and go back to the PD we got the guy!”

We make eye contact and start laughing hard.

Well Shit. At least I ahoy a date with em!

[emeraldenha]

MIXTAPES.

pairing: idol bf!taesan x gn!reader | genre: idol au, established relationship, fluff, slight angst | w/c: +1k words | warnings: overworking, reader is a college student

You always wished the two of your schedules would align better than this.

Not that you weren’t well aware of the hardships of dating an idol. It wasn’t designed to be easy. Rather, it was anything but easy.

Just when your boyfriend, Taesan, got the day off, it happened to be the day in which you were bombarded with due dates from all your college courses.

So here you were, slouched across your desk, fingers glued to your keyboard, while Taesan was sitting on the edge of your bed offhandedly brainstorming lyrics onto his notes app. You felt guilty for boring him and making him wait, but he insisted that anything was fine as long as the both of you were together. Even if that only entailed being in the same room.

“When do you think you’ll be done?”

It isn’t until then that you notice he’s no longer positioned by your bed and is instead standing directly behind you, hunching to the point where his chin ghosts over the top of your head.

“I’ll be done soon enough! I just have to power through it,” you promise.

Taesan rests his hands on the back of your chair and observes you for a moment as you continue working, gradually losing focus of the words jumbled on the screen before staring off into space.

“Hey, I love you and everything but I get a little self conscious when you’re peering over my shoulder like that. It makes it a little hard to concentrate,” you hesitantly comment, lips curled up slightly to signal that you weren’t really mad or annoyed. You just needed to get things turned in so you could spend actual quality time with your boyfriend.

“Sorry,” he quickly apologizes. He shuffles his feet until he’s leaning against the open door frame. “Do you need anything? Snacks, water…?”

“I’m okay,” you reply dismissively, already back to being immersed in your studies.

Taesan leaves your bedroom to find where he left his bag in your apartment. Spotting it on the couch, he searches through the front compartment until he pulls out what he’s been meaning to give you for weeks now. Headphones, check. Cassette player, check. Mixtape #1, check. Carefully taking the mixtape out of its case and plopping it into the player, Taesan’s face heats up by the sheer embarrassment of gifting this to you. However, he knows that whatever he can do to make you happy will squander his embarrassment any day.

Getting caught up in his busy lifestyle, sometimes it takes him a bit longer to realize just how hard you have it too. You work yourself to the bone yet are so patient and understanding when it comes to him. He wants to be there for you, much more than he physically can be.

When he reenters the room, he sees your lips pursed, eyebrows stitched together by a needle of stress. It’s the kind of expression you make when you’re stuck.

Taesan isn’t sure if he should bother you again but decides that it’s a risk he’s willing to take.

Pressing play and setting the device aside, he tucks your hair behind your ears before placing the headphones right over them. His hands then linger to brush through the strands of your hair, as if your inability to hear has somehow obstructed your other senses too. You let him off the hook this time. The gesture is thankfully more calming than distracting.

“Ah, Oasis, right?” You instantly recognize the voice and melody of the song despite not being able to put your finger on it. “Which album is this again?”

Taesan loves sharing music with you, and it’s a passion of his that you’re glad he’s introduced you to, because it consumes such a big part of his life that you like being a part of as well. Though despite having his favorite songs and artists, he rarely ever shows you the same song twice. It’s always something new.

You also never miss out on supporting his own group’s releases, spending time on the phone just to let him point out the lyrics he wrote or any other insider facts from song to choreography to music video shooting. It’s like a whole other world from how he describes it.

But when he admittedly gets sick of hearing the same songs over and over again in the practice room, he’s listening to the thousands of other songs on his playlist for hours before he goes to sleep. He makes sure to send you one by the end of the night, and he plays it as soon as you’ve seen the text so it’s like you’re there listening to it with him. He also has a collection of vinyls—vinyls that’d be all worn out if he didn’t keep them in such pristine condition—stacked away in his dorm, and even a small bundle of slightly lesser used cassettes, which you’re assuming is what he brought for you today in his portable, faded blue cassette player.

“Oh, it’s not an album actually,” he answers, nervously blurting out the words before he can stumble over them. “It’s a mixtape.”

“For me?” You point to yourself, eyes wide in surprise.

He gives you a shy nod. “It’s nothing, really. Just some songs that remind me of you.”

Songs that remind him of you.

Trying not to reveal how flustered you are by the statement, you swivel your chair away from him and face down at the desk. “Thank you.”

He hums, even though he knows you can’t hear him over the blaring drums and guitars kicking in.

But despite that, you can still sense his gaze on you, so looking over your shoulder, you give him a soft smile and say, “I love you.”

As you turn back around, Taesan is finally able to take his eyes off you, letting himself lie back all the way on your bed with a peaceful sigh.

“Love you,” he whispers to the ceiling, because although you still can’t hear him, the words will always reach you anyway. Whether said or unsaid or sung in song, his love will always reach you.

main masterlist

[moseyluvs]

Terlingua Girl - Pt.1

Matty Healy x Cowgirl!OC

A/N: she’s here!! It’s mostly preamble so things make sense in the future but nonetheless she is HEREEEEEE! Enjoy hotties.

Word Count: 1378

Warnings: none.

———

For the first time in a long time, Matty Healy is completely silent. Sitting in the last row of the large black SUV, looking wistfully out the window sits an utterly quiet Matty. Dark curls tousled, eye bags prominent, it's almost unsettling to the rest of the boys on the “detox” that his headphones haven't left his ears since the plane ride here.

He’s in his head, swirling thoughts of past conversations, paths he’d wished he’d taken, Matty is starting to spiral. He can’t get out of his head.

That's why they are on the trip in the first place. No phones, no social media, no civilized society, nothing but making a record on some Texas compound in the middle of the state. He knows it's for his own good, leaving everything behind for a while. Savoring the final moments of his phone he types his passcode in with his thumb almost secretively, almost like he’s ashamed to care that the message sits there at all. He checks his messages one last time, maybe it's changed, and maybe he’ll have to courage to open it.

1 Unopened Message Look Matty I love you it’s just…

He sighs and clicks the power button, taking out his wired headphones to join the lively conversation taking place in the row in front of him.

“-Nah mate im telling you it'll be good, you lot are too accustomed to the city,” says Arthur driving the car, one elbow casually resting on the center console.

He's a producer friend of Jamie’s and has some connection to some property in the country that's “so fucking cool it's mental mate”. He works well with George and after a particularly harrowing cancellation, a weekend plan turned into a summer-long break from the public eye.

“Oh look who decided to join them convo, you done being dramatic?” George smirks turning at the shuffling of Matty putting his headphones in his too-full backpack.

“Fuck off,” Matty mutters not even caring to look up at the blonde.

“It's jokes mate, but god knows you use your mindset for this album well chart!” Ross laughs shifting to face Matty as well.

Giggles are let out amongst the grown men in the car. Matty is not amused in the slightest, a scowl finds its way upon his face. Matty looks up at the men and opens his mouth to rattle off some witty dig when Arthur interrupts.

“Everyone hold on this is where things get a little bumpy” He sharply turns onto a dirt road, and everyone is too busy holding on for their life to continue their tiff.

—----------

They pull up to the compound at dusk after excessively long on the nauseating dirt road. Matty wasn't quite sure what he was expecting, maybe a horror movie house, full of spiders and creaking floorboards but what he was met with was far nicer than anticipated.

The spacious ranch house is surrounded by fields, with a little creek rolling through the property cutting it in half length-wise.

A sprawling deck extends from the back of the house, full of outdoor furniture with a barbeque and a fireplace. Adorning the deck are delicate string lights, their glow illuminating the space warm and inviting, especially as the pink skies fade into pale powdery purples. If he hadn't given up his phone to Arthur a few minutes prior he’d have taken a picture to send to his mom.

It's as he’s surveying the property when he sees it, a small house just on the other side of the creek. He swears he can see a silhouette in the window, lights softly glowing through thin curtains when a hand lands on his back startling him from his discovery.

“Let's go in yeah?” Says Adam with a soft smile. He leads Matty inside one hand on the strap of his own backpack, the other still on Matty's back. Matty shrugs it off and walks beside him in silence breaking apart to claim his room for the future months.

After he gets slightly unpacked and changes out of his travel clothes, the group congregates in the living room to set up where they’ll be physically making the record.

“There’s honestly plenty to do just help yourselves to the land and the house whatever sparks your creative juices you know?” Arthur starts unpacking production equipment, making a makeshift studio while giving his spiel.

“Just don't fuck with the livestock Lou gets all pissy when you fuck with the livestock and I do not want to be yelled at because someone wanted to pet a fucking cow and spooked the whole herd again,” Arthur says sternly, eyes wide.

“Who the fuck is Lou?” Says George, visibly confused.

“Livestock attendant, the compound is technically a vacation house for some rick fucks so they needed somebody to watch the land and keep up the animals,” Arthur explains continuing his grappling with the tapestry. Ross reaches up to help him, pinning it in place immediately. “Thanks, mate.. well that person is Lou”

Matty has no interest in another guy joining their circle, another guy to mess up their dynamic, another guy to mistake as a friend. Adam senses his uncomfortable energy and shoots Ross a look, the bearded man shoots him one back, shrugging.

Matty ignores the worried stares and unspoken comforts and walks to his room without so much as a peep, feet padding along the cold concrete floors.

“We’re worried about him yeah?” says Adam still looking at where Matty stood only seconds ago, as if he left a dark cloud in his path.

“Yeah” Sighs George.

—--

Matty shoots up, sweaty, rigid, and breathless. His legs stick to the white sheets of the bed, crisp cotton turned damp and constricting. The sun is barely peeking over the horizon but the heat of the day has already started. The thick air is filling his lungs, Matty needs a smoke.

Not bothering to change out of the plaid pajama pants and lack of a shirt, he rifles through his backpack pockets searching for his cigarettes. After finding his saving grace in the deepest pocket, he rushes down the long halfway to the back porch frantically lighting his cigarette when he sees her.

She sits on an old wooden fence, all pouty lips, tangled hair, and long legs knocking around in an old pair of cowboy boots. She’s facing the other way toward the pasture, head turned over her shoulder to get a look at the shirtless stranger who looks far too out of place.

Matty rakes through her appearance, light wash cutoffs, and a white tank top you can see through if you squint. She's a gangly little thing really, with freckles upon her cheeks and brown hair bleached a dirty blonde from the sun. She seems unruly, with bruises on her legs, and hands dirtied from caring for the creatures, but she seems…free.

“I take it you’re my new summer neighbor” she breaks the silence, revealing a slight southern drawl, spinning around on the fence to face the man who more so resembles a flustered teenager in the current predicament.

“I’m Lou” she continues cocking her head to the side flicking her eyes to his tattoo-filled abdomen. A slight smirk playing on her pink lips.

It hits Matty that this is the Lou he was worried about. Lou is not a man, she's instead quite possibly the most beautiful girl he's ever seen. Matty feels the need to puff out his chest suddenly self-conscious of the vulnerability, and the shy nature he doesn't typically carry.

“Oh- uh- yeah I guess I am” he manages to choke out.

She grins. There’s a sparkle in her eye, a glint of curiosity. He's something shiny, something new, something to discover.

“Well alright stranger, If you go put on some real clothes I'll show you something cool, yeah?” She states as if he would immediately obey. Matty Healy is no “simp” he doesn't do whatever a chick wants him to do. He is a cold player who calls his own shots. But the way he treks back to his room to throw on a pair of jeans and an old band tee makes him seem quite the opposite.

[all2angels]

hi im the stoner gee anon.. :3 im back 4 more.. and its bad its not even stoner gee anymorw..

2019 gee who grooms u and wants to make u his oblivious-to-how-wrong-your-relationship-is gf/bf!! you guys would meet at some umbrella academy panel thing. he's so enamored by you when you walk up to the table, so much so that when you ask for a signature and drawing, he just HAS to put his number on there..

you're happy, anyone would be happy that a celebrity noticed them. but no, this is gerard way.. the man of ur dreams. as soon as you get home, you lock yourself in your room and text him, shuffling around and pacing like crazy as you anticipate his response. he starts off easy, just making small talk and asking you about your dreams... then a few weeks in or so, he'll drop the bomb that he slipped you his number 'cus he thought you were so beautiful. just stunning, actually.

he eventually starts talking about issues in his own relationship, telling you about how the sex is just so boring and sad.. how his marriage doesn't even feel like a marriage anymore. you feel a little uncomfortable that he's telling you this, but anything to help your heroic idol, right?! then he goes back to how pretty you are, saying that he wishes he had married you, that you were older so he could've met you earlier, so it could actually happen.

there's a night where he calls you, and he's breathing quite heavily. you ask, "what's wrong?" and he brushes it off, replying with a dismissive "nothing." on the other side of the line, his pants are tugged down, his hand's just ghosting over his cock, and he's so turned on. he's been thinking about you so much lately. "how was your day?" he asks, now teasing the tip of his cock, smearing pre-cum over it.. you're not even sure what's going on, but you oblige, telling about how mundane it all was. you can hear small whines over the phone, but you keep going. his hand is going so fast, pumping up and down with every word you say. you get to how you took a shower earlier, a fleeting comment, and he quite literally cums seconds after, with the photo in his imagination. he tries to hold the moans back, but he can't. and it's all finally clicked in your mind.

that was so long. i'm so sorry. but i'm not. i love your posts and these r my gifts to you <3

tw: MAJOR TW! underage, grooming, weirdo behavior. dead dove don't eat i didn't edit this this is literally my pure, unedited thoughts. i did not hold back LMFAO

STONER GEE ANON 😭😭😭😭 i want to give you the world. THIS IS INCREDIBLE!!

i love this dynamic so much ong MY TAKE BELOW

you swear that it wasn't creepy. like, a man in his forties giving his underage fan his number sounds bad, but it didn't sound bad to you. because he was your hero, he saved your life! it's not creepy.

it was when he admitted that he gave you his number because he thought you were attractive that you were hit my a bad, nauseating feeling. but you buried that feeling deep, deep down. he was just complimenting you. gerard way thought you were attractive circled your head alot.

gerard likes to talk a lot. he can go on and on about media that he likes. whether it be a book or a music album, he can go on for ages. you don't have the heart not to listen or tell him you were busy or anything. this was the person that gave you comfort for years, how could you deny a chance to talk to him? even if he's the only one talking.

then it stopped being about comic books, music, or books. things got personal. really personal. and, honestly you were a little uncomfortable when he shared graphic descriptions about his sex life. did you stop him? no. it was gerard way. you awkwardly laughed when he said he wished he could marry you, hoping he was joking even though you knew he wasn't.

this goes on for almost everyday. he'd lock himself in his office, talking to you for hours. when you told him you had school or anything, he'd guilt trip you until he settles for a quick (2, 3 hour?) call before you go to bed.

but despite your gut telling you that he has ill intentions, you were so attached. you were already attached before he gave you his number. and maybe that's why he felt so comfortable sharing these things with you like there were no possible consequences. he knows you can't let go of him.

and maybe that's why he has no shame when he calls you, dick in hand, painfully hard and asking about your day. your voice sounded so good to him, he could've finished just by listening to you. but when you let it slip that you showered was more than he could ask for. he let out a moan that you could hear from your end of the call and when you realized what was happening you hung up quickly.

nothing changed after that. he messaged you asking when you were free so you both could hop in a call, like he didn't just have a one sided SOP with you. you obviously didn't address it. but, you also gave him the time you were available. because how could you decline talking to your hero?

[wavesoutbeingtossed]

One day I’m going to finish that essay or whatever it was in my drafts that’s about the themes of womanhood/relationships/thirtysomething stuff and TTPD but since part of this discussion has been revived on the dash but also it’s Saturday so this won’t ruffle as many feathers, I think one thing that sometimes gets lost in the shuffle in the conversation about the muses and stories in the lyrics is just why the recurring theme of the broken dreams pops up all over the album, and why they permeate the discussion of both muses, if not *all* the muses in the album.

Not to project things on Taylor, but it feels pretty clear to me* that the dreams she’s talking about specifically are about having a family, and that is the through line in the album, and why the successive blows devastated her. (*I don’t want to presume that anyone else feels this way and this is just my interpretation etc.)

The suburban gothic allegory in Fortnight depicting a miserable, lonely marriage. The ring on the ring finger in TTPD making her explode with joy because it was a shorthand for lifelong commitment. “He saw forever so he smashed it up” in My Boy. “I’m pissed off you let me give you all that youth for free” and dying on the sacrificial altar in So Long London. Marrying her wild boy in But Daddy. “Get the matches, toss the ashes off the ledge” in Fresh Out the Slammer (as in, she burned her life down). “You shit-talked me under the table talking rings and talking cradles” in loml. “The deflation of our dreaming leaving me bereft and reeling” in How Did It End. “Promises ocean deep and never to keep” in Peter. The allusion in The Manuscript that the man in question made her think he was in it for the potential of a serious commitment only for her to feel used when he moved on. And there are probably more examples I’m not thinking of off the top of my head here.

But what I’m trying to get at delicately is that from what she’s put down in TTPD, as well as what she’s put down in previous albums (“give you my wild, give you my child,” Paper Rings, Lover, renegade, YLM, etc.) building a life and a family with this person (Joe) was not only something she wanted, but seemingly deliberately planning and working towards. So in the death throes of the relationship, her grief was not just about things like losing someone she once loved, the breakdown of this relationship that was once comforting to her, what she gave up to make their life work, etc. but about this important thing she had dreamed of and what she seemed to feel was on the horizon. What I think I’m trying to say is that it had likely shifted at some point (even just based on the album pipeline) from a hypothetical “one day we’ll have ten kids and teach them how to dream” thing you wonder about with a partner to something that felt a lot more… tangible. (Again trying to be sensitive in my word choice/not project or assume things etc.)

I don’t want to make any accusations or assumptions on main, but I think those kind of life plans feeling within reach not only makes it understandable as to why someone would stay in a relationship whose cracks were turning into fault lines, but on the flip side why giving up on something that felt like it was on their doorstep would be so wholly devastating.

But it’s also why what happened in the two successive relationships *was* so devastating in the songs on the album, and why the Matty thing specifically was so twisted. He’d reentered her life and he’d insinuated himself back into her circle and gained her confidence which in turn led her to confide things in him (the “hostile takeovers” of it all, the whole bridge of The Smallest Man with its honey pot spy mission imagery in which like a mark he sweet talked her into sharing her most vulnerable, compromising “secrets” only to then turn it around to use her and ghost her like a trained operative). And given the way the family thing appears in both presumed storylines, it’s again because Muse #2 used the info gleaned about the life with Muse #1 to sell her a con about an alternate path to what she was mourning so deeply. (And why it’s such an unconscionable act because it’s manipulation, at least going by her own words about her experience of it. It’s as cavalier as the organ donor line in The Manuscript, with the same effect.)

The shittalking about rings and cradles is both of them (if not all of them) because in all cases, they ended up raising her hopes only to not plan on following through. One because he maybe couldn’t commit, one because maybe he was never serious about it. (And the one who did it first who was both 🥴.)

If I had to guess (because I am not Taylor so I will obviously never know any of this for sure besides picking up context clues), the dream was like a carrot dangling in her mind, feeling like this is what the “agony” to quote another one of her songs was for — like, things may be hard, but life is hard, and at least they were building towards *something* she felt they both wanted. And as that dream slipped through her fingers, it created a cascading series of events that crippled her emotionally for a time. So when she mourns that life in her songs, it’s almost like it’s the same dream, just in shifting contexts. The conman selling her dream back to her is comforting at first, but hits doubly hard and leaves her broke when it disappears.

The story throughout the muses on the album isn’t “she jumps to the person who promises her these things,” it’s that it’s a whole life she’s built that crumbles under the weight of reality knocking at the door and a foundation that shifts until it disintegrates. And losing that foundation and the dreams built upon it leaves her searching for answers in the wreckage — and looking elsewhere for clarity for a time. And it’s why it’s so hard to remove one muse from the other (or again, all of them), because that central driving force is used by each of them in different ways to build her up and take her down. And why working through the pain of one situation bleeds into that of another.

It’s hard to delve into this more without crossing boundaries or whatever, but it’s just such a palpable open wound in the album, but also why working through the pain in different contexts on TTPD brings to light all these different kinds of hurt but also the emotions that go along with them.

Anyway. That other essay will write itself at some point idk.

[mulledcherrywine]

Oh Baby, Yeah!

summary: You bring yours and Harry’s daughter to the studio and he can’t keep away from her

a/n: part of the Rosie storyline ! I love writing dad!H so lots of heart goes into these 🤭I imagine Rosie being born around HS1 era, then growing up through that, hence the pic above !!

You were laid back on the sofa outside the booth, Mitch and a few other crew members sat around with you as Harry was posted up in the booth. Your eight-month old, Rosie, was closely bundled in your arms, eyes shut softy as Harry cleaned up a few songs he’d been working on.

Adjusting his headphones, he gave a light wave to the both of you, earning a sleeping motion from you to indicate she was barely awake.

“He’s literally obsessed with her” Mitch laughed, looking at Rosie’s little face, “Like, never stops talking about you.”

You blushed thinking about Harry gushing of your daughter while you were away, even though you knew just as well from how he acted at home. He’d wake up early just to make sure she was safe and warm waking up, he’d bounce her around on his hip and sang lightly to her when she’d have a crying fit and he wouldn’t go a single night without making certain she fell asleep feeling loved.

He’d been working really hard lately. Even though his first solo album just recently made its debut, he was already back in the studio working away at other songs. He loved what he did, but sometimes it meant he had to be away from you and Rosie. Seeing as she was still quite new, he often had you both over to the studio.

After finishing off a few minutes of backing vocals, he stepped out of the booth, approaching where you were sat.

“Hi baby,” he said softly to you, reaching his arms out to take Rosie, “and hi, baby.”

He took her tightly in his right arm, holding her close to his person. Rosie’s eyes fluttered softly out of sleep, which normally boded a crying fit if she’d been rudely awoken, but the comfort of her fathers presence made tears far from possible.

“Jesus, he’s never going back in, now” one of the studio techs joked, removing the headset from his ears, “Breaktime, then?”

The studio team grouped up and shuffled out of the room, taking a much needed break from the day inside the crowded booth.

Mitch shuffled out after, giving a nod to you and Harry. You snuck over to him and your baby, brushing the hair back from Harry’s face and looking at his eyes as he looked to Rosie. The green of his eyes was glassy from tears.

“M’so lucky, s’just, like, emotional sometimes” he said, looking to you.

“I know, m’love” you hummed.

“Love her so much, an’ I love you, baby” he left a kiss on your temple, still holding Rosie tight as ever. She mumbled at the light motion of his body moving, causing the both of you to look down at her little green eyes.

“I love us,” you spoke, moving her already beautiful baby hairs atop her head.

“Stop, i’m going to, just, fully have a breakdown, lovie” Harry joked, his eyed widening like he was trying to jokingly stop the tears.

“Just post-baby hormones, m’love”

“Isn’t that just for the mum, though?”

“I think it applies”

[kissingghouls]

Question Marks (Mary Goore x Reader)

Summary: A night out with Mary has you wondering some things, but Mary presents you with an offer you can't turn down. (3200 words)

(continuing from: Part One - Winter Chill, Part Two - The Date, but can be read on its own. choose your own adventure 💜)

Tags: Fluff, Kissing, the return of the feral cats, marshmallows, blanket forts, he/they Mary

The bar is loud and completely overflowing with people. They spill out in all directions—some to the street, some to the patio, and some are taking refuge nearby, crowding the tiny hallway by the stage. You’re hardly surprised by the sight—there wasn’t much to do in this town and even fewer places to do it in. But you can’t hear your own thoughts, let alone what anyone else is saying and your back hurts from standing so long. The clock keeps ticking later and later while other people get to demand your date’s attention.

At least, you think this is a date. You’re not quite sure and neither of you said it out loud, but the way Mary’s barely left your side all night seems to at least imply that it is. And that’s where it starts to get complicated in your head. Is this your third date? Or just the second? Does making out by the river even count as a date? And if it wasn’t a date then what the hell was it?

It doesn’t really matter, but you know people will start asking soon. They’ll all start trying to make the two of you define whatever this is with strict labels and someone else’s rules. All you really want is for this thing to keep going. Everything is easy with Mary, at least when no one else is involved, and you like that. You like that you haven’t had to think about things or second guess your every move while worrying if he even likes you. You’re not sure Mary could even pretend not to like you.

Some guy, Chris or something, has been occupying Mary’s time for a good five minutes. It’s all band guy talk you don’t have the energy to follow, a conversation you’d barely have anything to contribute to even if you weren’t so fucking tired. Mary squeezes your hand as he talks and you’re not quite sure if it’s a silent apology or a cry for help. You really don’t mind that they’ve been the life of the party the entire night, but having Mary to yourself and making out in a dark corner is slightly more appealing than anything anyone else could possibly want to talk about. 

He leaves you with a soft touch and a cheeky grin, a sure sign that they’ll be right back. You don’t need the reassurance, but sometimes Mary’s just so unpredictably sweet and you’re not going to do a damn thing to discourage that. You watch them for a moment, smiling to yourself as they move through the alley behind the bar. Outside it’s all obscenities and playful insults exchanged between various groups, borrowed lighters and “did you hear that album?” There’s a shuffle underneath, a running current moving like ants on a hill as various dudes squeeze bodies and gear between a tank of a van and a door that’s more rust than anything.

You lean against the wall doing your best to keep out of the way. Your head rests against old flyers and graffiti as you let your attention drift from a certain metalhead to nothing at all. The bar smells of smoke and cheap beer, both scents reaching from different directions to converge directly under your nose. It should probably be gross, but it’s mostly just familiar in a comforting way. A sense memory of nights exactly like this. Nights with Mary.

Your eyes find them again, slowly tracing the silhouette of their frame in the alley. The cigarette between their lips wavers slightly as they smile at you, the bright orange ember bobbing up and down. It’s ridiculous the way fondness washes over you. Mary’s not even doing anything and you’re fucking swooning.

You’re aware of all of it, aware of the implications and possible declarations your presence presents. The simple act of standing where you are is enough to suggest something is going on between the two of you. Something that is made even more obvious with each touch or grin Mary gives you. There’s a feeling in your stomach, the proverbial butterflies have been replaced by what feels like drunk bees. It only intensifies when Mary lands in front of you, unable to stay away any longer. Smoke and cold hang around their jacket, another sensation that is decidedly Mary Goore. But the way they lean over you with one hand on the wall and the other tilting your face up to match the angle makes your brain stop completely. Their lips are cold, but the kiss is so heated you find yourself gripping their jacket and holding on for dear life. It’s tongues and teeth, messy with the sweetness of the cherry cola the two of you split earlier. Kissing Mary is like a sugar rush, a burst of all those feel-good chemicals flooding your body.

This wasn’t part of the plan of course. You and Mary were still figuring things out, trying to really get to know each other rather than relying on secondhand information and crazy rumors you’d heard over the years. But the trouble with taking things slow was that sometimes when you were meant to be doing other things you still found yourself focused solely on Mary.

The look his gives you as he pulls away suggests he’s struggling with something similar. It’s not curiosity or even attraction really—it’s more like desire disguised as hunger. A predator and prey. The amount of fake blood smeared all over their face easily gives away who is who. You’re so hopelessly caught in their web that the cocky smile he shoots your way is both too much and not enough, but god how you don’t want them to let you escape.

Mary knows they’ve got you right where they want you. Knows they’ve figured out how to make your knees weak, how to weaponize their body against yours. It’s a challenge you’re all too happy to accept even if technically you’re supposed to be moving at a glacial pace. But Mary just shakes his head and grins as he shrugs out of his jacket and carefully transfers his prized possession to your shoulders.

“You ok, sweetheart?” they ask and reach up to tuck your hair behind your ear.

“I’m good,” you reply with a nod. “Just tired.”

“Aw I’m sorry, darlin’. I didn’t mean to keep you out so late.”

“No, it’s fine,” you insist. “I’m having fun. It’s just been a long night.”

“You want me to take you home?”

“There is no way in hell I’m letting you drive my car, Goore.”

“Worth a shot,” they reply with a laugh. “What if…you crash at my place? We can have a little sleepover? I’ll build you a blanket fort.”

“Hmm…will there be popcorn?”

He laughs again. “Darlin’, I will get you whatever your little heart desires.” 

“In that case, I desire snacks and this blanket fort. Maybe a little more making out.”

“I think I can do that.”

“You’ve got a deal, Goore.”

He grins and takes your hand, quickly pulling you through a cluster of your friends and his, ignoring anyone who calls out your names. The gossips in this town will have the two of you married by morning, but you couldn’t care less when Mary looks at you the way he does.

It’s a quick stop to pick up way too much junk food, but they refuse to let you pay for any of it. The girl behind the counter is visibly annoyed by the two of you play fighting over the cost of candy, heaving an angry sigh as you swipe Mary’s wallet and take off down the aisle. They catch up to you somewhere near the beer cooler and maybe you let them have this little victory. You’re too content in their arms to try to get away again anyway.

He keeps his arms around you all the way up to his front door, tucking them into the jacket you’re both somehow trying to wear at the same time. You can’t help but laugh as he buries his face in your neck and asks you to unlock the door. It takes half a second to their neighbor to appear and scowl at the two of you before slamming their door to prove a point.

“Gonna get me in trouble, darlin,” Mary groans, but it’s obvious he doesn’t mind at all.

“Better be quiet then.”

He growls low in your ear, holding you a little tighter as he urges you toward the door. It’s warm inside the apartment this time, not that you would complain about sharing a blanket with Mary. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t kind of hoping it would happen again. You doubt they’d turn down the offer.

They reluctantly pull away and excuse themselves, darting through the kitchen to check on the cats outside. As soon as they hear him coming a chorus of desperate meows starts at the back door, a little more pitiful each time. He laughs and greets them, temporarily quieting their tiny screams with replenished bowls of food.

They’re three steps away, but somehow it’s still too far. While they’re carefully patting one of the cats between the ears, you reach over and run your hand through their hair. Mary almost moans, bending backward to look up at you as your nails graze their scalp. Their eyes close as you give their hair a little tug and bend down to kiss them and this time Mary definitely moans.

With Scratch and Sniff fed, Mary’s attention centers back on you. He pulls you down to capture you in a kiss—innocent at first, but neither of you are interested in breaking away so the only thing left to do is escalate until you’re both a little breathless. They grin as you finally separate, kiss-swollen lips now a darker shade of pink and you wonder if you’re wearing the remnants of their black lipstick on your own mouth. As if to answer your question, they reach up and swipe their thumb across your bottom lip. 

“We should go back inside,” he suggests softly.

You nod lazily and let him pull you to your feet, happy to follow him anywhere at this point.

“You wanna borrow something to wear, sleepy darlin’?” he asks as he heads toward his room with your hand in his.

It wasn’t necessary for you to change into Mary’s clothes. Your own t-shirt would have been just fine to sleep in, but once the offer was made how could you do anything but accept? He searches his dresser for something acceptable, looking almost nervous as he hands you a shirt and some boxers.

“They’re clean, don’t worry,” they tease, trying to dodge as you swat at them with their clothes. “The bathroom’s through—”

“I remember.”

“Right. Yeah. Cool.”

It’s an odd tone and you can see the gears turning in their brain, a wave anxiety suddenly working overtime. It’s a side of Mary you haven’t seen before, all that cool confidence stripped away. You’re not sure what’s causing the sudden doubts, but you cup his face and press your lips to his to offer as much comfort as you can without making them explain. They lean into you, body practically melting against yours as they relax completely under your reassurance.

“I’ll be right back,” you add with a grin that rivals theirs.

“Wait,” they say and pull you back in for another quick kiss. “Ok, I’m good now.”

“Try not to miss me too much.”

“Ah, in that case, come back for a second. Maybe two seconds.”

You shake your head, rolling your eyes as you head for the bathroom. Maybe it’s supposed to be weird. Maybe it is weird for Mary, but you try not to think too much about it as you change clothes. You take a moment to admire the softness of the shirt, tracing a hand over the once-black-now-grey cotton and the cracked letters of a logo.  You’d seen Mary in this shirt a hundred times at least. It was clearly one of their favorites and if you were honest, you didn’t hate the way it looked on him. But now those cut off sleeves are on your shoulders and the thing smells like him in the most wonderful way. You like it so much that the thought makes you blush hard, cheeks flaring red-hot until you’re stuck gripping the bathroom counter to calm down.

Once it finally ebbs, you slide back into the bedroom and find them hard at work. The look of determination on their face is so cute you want to cry, but you settle for leaning against the doorframe and watching them create a masterpiece. In the few minutes you’ve been gone they’ve managed to pull together what must be every blanket they’ve ever owned. The bed is almost entirely buried under a mountain of varying colors and textures with all your collective snacks stacked neatly on top. There’s a good three feet of stuff piled up with no real indication on where he intends either of you to sleep. If he’s done this much, he probably has a plan and you’re hardly going to be upset if you’re Mary’s little spoon.

You just can’t believe he was serious about the blanket fort.

He stops as soon as he spots you standing there, jaw hanging open at the sight of you in his shirt. “Fuck,” he breathes before scrambling around the bed to get to you. “Look at you.”

“See something you like, Goore?”

“You have no fucking idea, darlin’. Looks fucking good on you. Fuck.”

“I think you said that already.”

They nod slowly, eyes still tracing over the lines of you. “Yeah, I’m uh, I’m gonna need a minute to wrap my head around this. Might need you to pinch me.”

You shrug and reach out, pinching one of their nipples between your fingers just enough to make him squeal.

“My tits!” Mary howls, cupping their chest dramatically as they dodge your next attempt. “This kind of behavior is prohibited at Fort Goore!”

“Fort Goore?” you ask with a laugh, and he beams so proudly at you that your heart actually hurts from the cuteness of it all.

“This is my opus,” they explain excitedly, gesturing to the mass of soft behind them. “Most comfortable place on the planet. It’s my best work, really.”

“You’re real serious about sleepovers, huh?”

“Well, yeah.” They reply with a shrug. “Kinda want you to stay.”

You can’t help but smile, shaking your head as your face gets warm. “It does look it’s pretty comfortable in there.”

“It’s the pinnacle of comfort, sweetheart. You won’t find anything cozier than Fort Goore.” They lead you toward the little hideout and pull a blanket aside to reveal the inside. “Go on. Check it out.”

You crawl under the tented blankets and follow their shadow as they run around adding a few finishing touches to their castle. As far as you’re concerned it’s already a modern architectural marvel. A system of tacks, pushpins, an entire spool of twine, a chair and a precariously leaning guitar case holds the ceiling up, suspended over the top of Mary’s TV. The interior is a nest of blankets and more pillows than can reasonably fit on the bed, but they’ve built a retaining wall from the sofa cushions to contain them. The whole thing is cute and silly and the amount of thought they’ve put into the construction is nothing short of impressive. You wonder if maybe this was how Mary spent their childhood, creating their own elaborate little worlds out of whatever was available. It wouldn’t surprise you to learn that this wasn’t the first fort—you doubted it would be the last—but this one…this one Mary built for you. It’s the kind of thought that has your chest feeling tight like it so often does near Mary Goore.

A minute later he turns out the light and climbs into the fort beside you. He shoots you another one of those trademark Mary grins, all crooked and toothy in the dim light from the tv. He looks so adorably happy as he tears into the first packet of candy that you can’t look away. He pats around until he finds the remote and hits play on some old black and white monster movie.

“You were so right about snacks. How’d you get so good at this date thing?”

“Ah, so this is a date,” you tease with a grin of your own.

“Wait, is it not?”

“I don’t know. You could be casually building blanket forts for everyone in town.”

“Are you kidding? That would take way too much time. Plus, there aren’t that many people in town I like enough to share a fort with. This is all for you, darlin’.”

“You’re a marshmallow, Goore.”

“Yeah, I might be. Just don’t tell anyone, ok? It’ll ruin my reputation.”

“Cross my heart,” you promise and draw an X over your chest. “But, for the record, I like marshmallows.”

“C’mere,” he says with a grin and pulls you close enough to drop a kiss on the top of your head. “I like you too, darlin’.”

“Yeah, you’re kinda terrible at hiding it.”

“Sorry, you just make it so damn easy to like you.”

“Stop,” you whine and hide your face against their shoulder.

“Not a chance, sweetheart.”

“Mary?”

“Hmm?” he hums in response.

“Kiss me.”

“Happily.”

He claims your mouth with his—a sweet, gentile kiss until he gets his hands in your hair. Your lips part and the two of you are sinking down into the bed as your tongues and legs tangle together. It’s a little hurried, a little clumsy, all wandering hands and the softest sounds while the pile of snacks and pillows inevitably ends up on the floor. You’re too warm—dizzy and a little drunk on Mary Goore, but you don’t want to let them go. You don’t want to stop; don’t want to think about anything other than the way he bites your lip and that self-satisfied chuckle rumbling in his throat when you gasp into his mouth.

Neither of you hear the front door slam. It’s the “what the fuck, Mare?” screamed from the other room that finally breaks you apart. Seconds later someone you assume is Mary’s roommate is pounding on the door shrieking about the missing blankets and the state of the sofa. You slap both hands over your mouth to keep from laughing while Mary rolls their eyes and makes faces as their roommate continues to yell.

“Ooh, I think you’re in trouble, Goore,” you tease in a whisper.

“Ugh. That prick has ruined two of our dates now,” he groans, shaking his head.

“I don’t think either of them were ruined, but…” You trail off and bite your lip. “Maybe next time we can go to my place?”

“Next time, huh?” he repeats with a grin. “You got a little crush on me, darlin’?”

“Yeah, I might,” you admit. “Can’t help it. You just make it so damn easy to like you.”

Mary shakes his head and pulls you closer, letting his eyes close as he holds you. It doesn’t take long for either of you to fall asleep after that, curled up together under a canopy of his roommate’s stolen bedsheets.

-x-

thank you all so much for reading and commenting on the last two parts. 💜 should I do a tag list for these?

more stuff by me // what does Mary Goore smell like? // ko-fi tip jar

[cowgurrrl]

so, I know TONS of artists do these documentaries or whatever and some of them include intimate and personal moments of their lives. I'm just saying! if rockstar!joel had a little documentary made, I feel like there'd be moments/personal and intimate clips of him and actress!reader together, ones that play out while he talks about her during an interview clip or something and it's just SO 🥹🥹🥹 like he'd be so precious and sweet. i love them so much!!!

Okay wait I know I’ve doing little drabbles recently but this is deserving of its own fic 😭😭 thank you for the beautiful idea!

Pairing: rockstar!joel miller x actress!reader

Author's note: wait i really love how this turned out

Summary: The Millers: A Year in the Life [2.3k]

Warnings: discussions of the foster care system, marital bliss, emotions, I think that’s it?? This is literally just fluff

You didn't know what to expect when you agreed to have a documentary crew follow you around while Joel was working on his next album. You worried it would burst the little private bubble you've spent your career trying to maintain or bring unwanted attention to your family. It didn't do either of those things. If anything, it helped show the world how strong you are as a family unit. You just didn't realize how much they caught until you and your family attended the premiere to watch it in full for the first time. 

The documentary opens with clips of Joel touring, playing loud music, and showing off his rockstar attitude for the cameras but quickly cuts to a quiet, sunny morning in your house. Joel is up and making coffee in the deserted kitchen, his hair a mess and his eyes bleary as he looks at the camera. "'S this the kinda excitin' thing you guys wanted?" He asks in a gravelly voice before laughing at his own joke. The camera follows him up the stairs and to the primary bedroom, where you're still sleeping. He carefully puts the coffee on your bedside table and sits on the edge of the bed, smoothing your hair out of your face. You groan and curl into his body subconsciously, and he smiles. "We're gonna have to leave soon, but I made you some coffee, and I'm gonna get the kids up so you can rest a little longer, alright?" He asks, and you nod, peeking your head up from under the covers to see the cameras. You have to laugh when you spot your own messy hair on screen.

"Oh, hello." You say to the cameraman before turning back to Joel. "Give me five minutes." 

"You can have ten." 

"I love you." You say as he leans down to kiss you. 

"Love you, too." He says, lingering for a moment or two before getting up and padding down the hallway. They follow him until he asks them to wait in the hallway, not wanting to freak out the kids, and they oblige. His microphone picks up his gentle voice, rousing your teenagers awake. 

"Honey, it's time to get up. We've gotta get ready for Sam's game." He says, and a grumpy shuffling can be heard.

"Can we get donuts?" Violet asks, barely audible, and Joel chuckles. 

"Yeah, baby, we can get donuts. I just need ya to get movin' for me, alright?" 

"Okay." She says. He repeats the process twice before it cuts to Joel wearing a baseball hat at the game, cheering Sam on despite the obvious fatigue in his eyes. There are little clips here and there of the game itself, but nothing super significant. It cuts again to Joel in his studio, getting mic'ed up for a solo interview, and there's a big smile on his face.

"D'you guys already talk to my wife?" He asks, and everyone in the room laughs. "I'm sure she had a lot to say." The way he says it isn't malicious. It's fond. Like he knows you so well, he doesn't even need confirmation that you talked a lot about him. Then, you're on screen in your office with all your awards and pictures of the kids on display behind you, half-directing the production team on the best way to use the space. You don't introduce yourself until everything is settled. 

"I'm an actress, director, producer, mother, and Joel's wife." You say, smiling. 

"What can you tell us about your relationship with Joel?" A producer asks, and you laugh.

"God, how much time do you have?" You ask. It cuts again to Joel, who laughs at the same question and starts spinning his wedding band on his finger. 

"Should I start at the beginning'?" He asks.

"If that's what you want." As soon as the words are spoken, early pictures and videos of you and Joel start playing over the interview answers.

"We met through mutual friends a few years after I'd moved to LA, but we didn't start actually dating until about two months after we met." You say. It's not entirely wrong. 

"I remember thinkin' she was beautiful, intelligent, and caring. I just wanted to be with her all the time." He says.

"We were both so busy and in the public eye that I almost didn't think it was gonna work out because we were always traveling for work or getting stuck in the studio or on set. The first test was when he went home to Texas with his daughters for about a month, and we had to find ways to keep in touch," you remember. "That's also the first time I realized I really, really liked him." 

"Just like?" The producer asks, and you laugh.

"It wasn't love yet. Joel will be the first to tell you he fell first."

"Oh, yeah, it was stupid how in love with her I was," Joel's interview cuts in, and you each laugh at the editing. "I was ready to marry her after our third date."

"He said that?" You ask the producer and laugh when she nods. 

"When did you know you wanted to marry him?" 

"Oh, after I met Sarah and Ellie and saw how good of a dad he was. I mean, are you kidding? What’s not to love about that?"

"I don't wanna say too much 'cause it's not only my story to tell, but we were really young when we had Sarah," Joel's voice jumps back in with pictures of him with a baby Sarah. "I didn't know what our lives were gonna look like with just the two of us, and I was so scared that I was gonna fuck her up. She was so perfect and little and I... I wasn't. I was pretty much on my own until my brother got back from Desert Storm, and he moved in with us. Then, it felt like we were raisin' her and each other," he says. "Ellie was, somehow, a bigger surprise than Sarah was. She was in Sarah's school and havin' a hard time. She'd just gotten kicked out of another foster home, and I thought, 'Why doesn't she come stay with us?' I think I thought it would be a temporary thing, but she became a part of my heart. We always say she's not our daughter by blood but by soul, and then there was no way I could live without both my girls. So, we filled out the adoption paperwork and she became ours when she was twelve and Sarah was fourteen. So yeah, I was a single dad for a long time before I met my wife." 

"I want to make it abundantly clear I wasn't scared of the girls. I was scared of ruining their lives by dating their father." You say, laughing at how crazy it sounds now. "I hadn't ever dated someone with kids before, so it was all new! But the girls were so kind and so wonderful. And I don't even know when it happened, but suddenly, I wasn't calling them Joel's girls. I was calling them the girls or our girls. The love was so organic it didn't phase anyone when I started claiming them, too. Granted, that wasn't until we'd been together for quite a while, but still."

"We met her… I wanna say it was a few months after they'd started dating," Sarah says, suddenly appearing on the screen. "She was really cool, and I remember telling Dad how much I liked her. She would come over and help with homework, and we'd do movie nights with all four of us. It felt like we were a family long before they got married."

"Oh, yeah. I mean, it's hard not to like her, y'know?" Ellie says. "Coming from foster care and everything, I remember being hesitant when she came into our lives just because I've had mother figures come in and out for a majority of my life, so I was kinda bracing myself for that. But she didn't do that. She stayed and made our lives better for it." 

"She was never just some person our dad was dating or a stepmom. She was always Mom to us." Sarah says. 

"Yeah, I don't think I've ever called her my stepmom," Ellie laughs. "There was a period of time before they got married where we called her by her name, and then by the time Sam came around, we were both calling her Mom because that's what she is. She's our mom."

"When we were gettin' married, we had friends in the industry tell us, 'y'know marriage is hard, but being married while all this is goin' on is so much harder.' And that was really scary. I'd been through a divorce before, and I didn't want to put either of us through that. Leading up to the wedding, we talked about everything. What we wanted, what we expected from each other, what we wanted our lives to look like, and she was so fuckin' patient with me. She always is. And the day of, y'know, five million things are going through my head, and I'm freakin' out, but when I saw her," Joel gets choked up and has to take a deep breath before he can continue. "That all went away. All I cared about was her."

"We got married in his parent's backyard with like thirty other people there. We didn't want a big wedding and all the drama that came with that. Literally, nobody knew about our wedding except the people who were invited and the photographer, and it was perfect. I would do it all over again if he asked me to."

"That's it? That's all the detail we get?" The producer asks playfully, obviously on the edge of her seat for more, and you nod. 

"Yep." You smile. You go on to talk about the births of Sam and the twins and how that changed everything in your lives before the documentary returns to your day-to-day. 

The documentary catches a bunch of special moments you would've never caught otherwise like Joel calling you down to the studio to play you a riff because he's so vulnerable when he first writes a song. You're the only one he trusts with that vulnerability. "What d'you think?" He asks, looking up from the frets with worry lining his face. "I think it's great. What were you thinking for drums?" You ask because you know he's already thinking ten steps ahead. He shifts through his papers to find what he wrote down. When he finishes explaining it to you, you step closer to him, rub away the line between his eyebrows, and kiss the crown of his head, his hands coming around to hold your waist. "Sounds like you've got a hit on your hands."

Or the kids all joining in on a jam sesh when they're all home at the same time. With Sam's baseball schedule and the older girls' families, friends, and lives, it's hard to find time for all seven of you to get together. But by some miracle, all the Millers find a way home at the same time, and the cameras catch them all in the studio, playing song after song just because they can. They play for so long that the camera crew had to ask you how long you thought they'd go. "Oh, they'll go all night if you let them." You say with a huge smile on your face. Your family was all under one roof. How could you not be ecstatic?

Or when Joel visited you on set with flowers when you were having a rough day. He found you sitting in your trailer with your head in your hands, tears rolling down your cheeks, and he quickly asked the camera crew to stay outside. His mic stayed on and picked up everything. "I don't think I can do this." You cried into his shirt. You were still relatively new to directing and had hit a wall. It felt like things kept stacking up against you, and you were so tired. 

"What's goin' on? Talk to me." He said, and you quickly dove into exactly what was wrong, fighting tears the whole time. When you finished crying, he kissed all over your face and whispered affirmations to you. "You can do this, okay? These are just little hiccups. If anyone can handle them, it's you. Just take a second to breathe and tell me what I can do to help you." 

"I don't know. I don't know." Your voice got thick with emotion again, and he shushed you gently. 

"Why don't we get you somethin' to eat, and then we can talk bout it? How's that sound?" He asked, and you hummed. 

The screen fades to black during your crying session in the trailer, and suddenly, you hear Ryan's shaky, loving voice announcing your name at the Oscars for Best Director. It cuts to you sitting there, stunned into silence, as everyone around you claps. Seeing those two clips so close together made you tear up and reach for Joel's hand in the theatre. The rest of the documentary goes through his recording process until the Grammy's, where he won three for the album being documented. In the last few minutes, it returns to Joel in his studio, picking at his nails.

"It is hard. I'm not gonna sit up here and pretend like just cause I've been in it for a while, I'm better at managing it all. I'm not. There are a million things I'm sure I'm doin' wrong, or I've fucked up. But my family, they love me despite everything," he says. "Every day, I wake up, and I choose them. Without them…" he trails off, tears welling in his eyes. "Without them, I'm nothin'. Most of the time, I don't feel half good enough to deserve them, but I'm tryin' to be better. I think that's all I can do. It's all I wanna do." With those wise words from the man you love so much, the credits start rolling on The Millers: A Year in the Life, and everyone in the theatre stands and claps. You turn to Joel and kiss him, with tears falling from both of you and smile against him.

When you agreed to have a documentary crew follow you around, you were sure what to expect. You didn't think your day-to-day lives were anything spectacular, but seeing them edited together like that, you see how wrong you were. You forgot how special it is to share your life with him and find sweet moments between all the chaos. For as private as you try to be, you're glad that, in a hundred years or so— when you and Joel are long gone, and your kids are old— people will be able to watch this and see how much you loved each other. How you chose each other time and time again. How you celebrated each other's wins and mourned the losses together. 

A wise man once told you that the best decision he'd ever made was marrying his wife one hot Texas day many moons ago. Now, more than twenty years later, you'd be inclined to agree with him. It's hard and not always the best of times, but if you could go back in time, you wouldn't change a single thing. You'd sign the contract, go on the fake dates, fall in love, move to Ireland, and rekindle your relationship all over again if it meant you'd have a sliver of the happiness you have now. 

Best decision ever.

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