#can you all believe saturdays exists???? that song is my main baby at the moment | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

boldlyvoid · 3 years

Text

Amoreena | chapter thirteen

Chapter Thirteen

main summary: Heaven is a real place and it's located exactly 14.6 miles away from the FBI, Quantico Headquarters. Off behind a small park, under a fantastical willow tree surrounded by wildflowers, in every colour young minds can imagine.

Don't forget, heaven also comes with angels.

Chapter Warnings: fluff like unbelievably fluffy!

word count: 6.1

here's the playlist for the fic, the last song in the playlist if looped will lead right into Amoreena at the beginning and it works pretty well timing-wise if you like to listen while you read !!

from the beginning <3

All their bags were packed by Friday morning, Y/N and Amoreena waking up extra early with excitement for the weekend ahead of them, and they didn’t even know what was going to happen yet.

Y/N made sure everything was packed and ready for a 3rd time on Saturday morning, right before they left on the trip; making sure they had sunscreen and aloe vera, all her medicine and ginger ale by the pack for her random bouts of morning sickness that lasted all, day, long... And their dresses and his suit hanging behind the driver's seat, beside Amoreena, they all piled into Y/N’s car and took off down the road on their adventure.

Amoreena was awake for the first half of the 9-hour trip, singing like crazy as they drove through Washington, Baltimore, Philadelphia and New York, it was so amazing she couldn’t stop cheering the whole time. It was more than she’s ever seen before, even though they lived so close to New York, she’s never been through it before.

Once they arrived in Rhode Island, Spencer pulled over at the closest gas station to make sure the girls were all prepared and ready for the big surprise he had for them. They filled the car, used the restroom and bought some lemonade before getting back into the car, he turned in the driver's seat to see Amoreena and Y/N better, looking at their wide eyes memorizing the calmness in their faces before he told them.

He didn’t want them to freak out too much, he was worried about Y/N’s blood pressure and how loud she might scream and any stress that a situation like this could put on her body. He’s seen how people react to Taylor Swift, he just didn’t know how they would.

“Now, I'm only telling you so you don't freak out," he repeated the same worry she had when she broke the news of the baby, "I didn’t have to rent a place on the water because my friend lives up here, so we’re going to stay in her guest house,” he explained it simply.

“Rossi's wife?” Y/N asked, confused about who it could be and if she knew this woman yet.

“No, actually I think you might know her, her name is Taylor?”

“No,” she shakes her head furiously, “no, nope, there's no way you did this, Spencer Walter Reid I am not kidding I’m going to pass away if I see her.” She's holding both her hands in fists as she tries to stay calm, closing her eyes quickly before letting out a deep sigh.

“Taylor who?” Amoreena yells, undoing her seatbelt and standing between their seats, she almost jumps into his lap as she leans over and grabs a fistful of his shirt, “Taylor WHO?”

“Go get in your seat and I’ll show you,” he teases, watching her follow orders and get back in the seat as quickly as possible, shouting at him to drive the second he hears the seatbelt click again.

Y/N is completely speechless for the next 20 minutes of the drive, eyes wide and a hand on her stomach as she stares out the front window. She’s like a statue, not able to hear anything Amoreena is saying but that doesn't stop her from going on and on with her stories.

“Mom!” She’s finally able to break her out of the haze, “pass me your phone!”

“Yeah,” she doesn’t even question it, handing her the phone back to the antsy 7-year-old so she could continue her internal panic.

They see her house on the hill as they approach, “holy shit,” Y/N whispers as Amoreena turns on the last great American dynasty, knowing exactly where they were going.

Taylor asked for his licence plate number and car model when they were emailing, letting her gate guy know to let Spencer right in so he could keep it a secret. But they knew the house, there was no point in not telling them. Y/N looked a little relieved that he gave her the time to freak out alone and not as soon as they crested the hill.

Her driveway felt never-ending as they got closer and closer, Amoreena was still in disbelief as she squealed in the back seat, hands flailing as she tried to calm the excitement inside her body with her favourite stim.

Then Taylor walked out into the front yard and Y/N was a mess. Crying as she waved her hand in front of her face, not wanting to be a mess in front of Taylor fucking Swift, “I told you nothing crazy! How did you do this?”

“Yes, but I said 'define crazy’ and you didn’t,” he reminds her with a cheeky smile.

She shoves him, “I didn’t think you could do this?!”

Once they’re parked the door automatically unlocked, and as much as spencer hated that non-safety feature, he's glad Amoreena can get out quickly before she's screaming bloody murder. Amoreena is out the door and in Taylor’s arms faster than they’ve ever seen her move, she should be a track star. It almost knocks Taylor to the ground as she takes her in, holding the sweet little girl against her chest with the biggest smile on her face. Amoreena snuggles right into her, with a hand on her cheek and her other arm wrapped behind her neck. She couldn't be any closer to her, it was like she was her favourite relative who she hasn't seen in a while.

Amoreena is talking her ear off already by the time Spencer’s helping Y/N out of the car and walking her to Taylor, she’s holding his hand like she’s going to pass out or something, “and this is my mom Y/N and my dad Spencer but somehow you know him already,” Amoreena introduces her.

“Hi, Y/N, it's a pleasure to meet you, Spencer's told me a lot about you.” Taylor’s sweet voice saying her name alone makes her stutter out a bunch of nonsense, not to mention the fact Spencer's been talking to Taylor fucking Swift about her.

Amoreena moves out of the way for Taylor to wrap her up in a hug, and Y/N cries harder than he’s ever seen on her shoulder, “thank you,” is all she can say, it’s frightening to Amoreena at first to see her mom cry like that but she knows her mom just loves Taylor like family.

What she doesn’t know is just how much Taylor saved her life. If she didn’t have someone to listen to, someone to take the pain and replace it with hope, she wouldn’t be here and by default neither would Amoreena. Spencer owed everything to Taylor swift at this point, she was a blessing in his life that he took for granted. Not realizing until that moment just how much she meant to him as well now.

“Sorry,” Y/N finally says as she pulls off her, “I’m pregnant, I can’t help it.”

Taylor’s hands fly right to her stomach, “holy crap, you never told me that she’s pregnant in your emails, oh my god!” She’s genuinely so happy for them, “how far along are you?”

“6 weeks on Sunday,” she smiles, feeling like herself again even though it’s incredibly strange to be telling Taylor before her parents even knew. “No one really knows, it’s all very new but when you know, you know… y’know?”

For a woman with an English language degree, she sure knew how to make a sentence, all of them laughing at the words she chose, but they understood.

“We should have used paper rings!” Amoreena yells, holding her hand over her eyes in disbelief as she shares her head with a sigh, she couldn’t believe she forgot that song existed.

It made Taylor laugh, scooping the little one up in her arms and starting the walk inside.

“Well come on in, I’ve got a big lunch spread ready for us and then we can go to the beach for the ceremony whenever you want this weekend, does that sound good?” Taylor is beyond excited to make new friends, much like Amoreena, they got along famously.

“Where are the cats? Do they live here or in LA or Nashville?” Amoreena changed the topic in the form of a yes and proving just how much she knew about Taylor.

“They’re here, Olivia and Benjamin will probably find us soon, Meredith isn’t very open to new friends now that she’s an old lady,” Taylor explained as she set Amoreena down in the entryway, bending down to be at her level and pointing off into the living room, “oh, see, there one is!”

Amoreena saw one of them laying on the floor under a sunny spot, running to it and petting it gently, “hi Benjamin, I loved you in the ME video,” she whispers as she pets him, making Taylor swoon.

“She’s amazing,” Taylor swooned, “I can’t wait to have one.”

“You should!” Y/N agreed, reaching to take Taylor's hand on impulse, and Taylor held it back with a smile, “oh that would be so wonderful, I can just imagine the beautiful stories you’ll create when you discover what it’s like to love someone how your mom loves you.”

Taylor’s smile was priceless, "that's the best way to think about it," she beamed at Y/N the way Spencer did, she had that effect on people. They followed her into the dining room, taking a seat near each other and digging into all the food Taylor made for them.

“Ah,” Amoreena said as she finally joined them, sitting on her knees on Taylors nice antique chairs. “Shark coochie,” she whispers the words to herself, not able to stop her mind from repeating it, but still not wanting Taylor to hear it in case it was inappropriate. She was incredibly well-mannered for someone who had a hard time reading social queues.

“It’s a hard word to say,” Taylor agreed, making her feel less awkward. Spencer may have told her about her autism in advance, wanting his little girl to be respected by everyone she met, for who she truly was, “my mom called it a coochie spread once, actually, she's going to be over tomorrow for father's day.”

"Yes! Oh, I love Andrea," Amoreena laughed at how cool this day was, smiling at Taylor the way she smiled at him that first morning at breakfast like she just found yet another person to love. “You’re so wonderful, Taylor.”

“Oh, thank you, you're pretty enchanting yourself,” she smiles, “I take it you’ve known about me for your whole life?”

“Yep,” she smiled, reaching for a chocolate-covered strawberry and taking a huge bite, covering her mouth before she continued, “I was born a month after Red came out, November thirteenth, it really is a lucky number now, mom says so at least.”

“It is!” Taylor agreed with a smile, “I have some markers, do you want to wear matching 13’s today?”

“Mom, can I colour on my hand?” She turns so fast Spencer thinks she’ll get whiplash.

“Yeah, go for it!” She agrees, spreading cream cheese on a croissant and layering tomatoes on top, definitely pregnant.

So Taylor gets a marker and both their left hands now have matching numbers. Amoreena asks to take a million photos, eventually just taking Y/N’s phone from her, permanently, to take photos of all her favourite things around the house.

She runs off with the cats at a certain point, giving Y/N a chance to thank Taylor without tiny ears listening in. “Can I get really emotional and tell you how much you mean to me or is that too weird for our first chat?”

“Not weird at all, knowing you’ve used my music to raise that beautiful child makes me love you just as much, I’d love to hear why you picked me, of all musicians, to show her how to love,” Taylor replies, as regal and kindly as humanly possible.

“My first fiancé, Stephen, he was actually like an angel and our first kiss was quite literally in the rain, but he passed away in 2010,” she explained it with a smile so Taylor knew it wasn’t a touchy subject anymore, “I bonded with Fearless in a way I can’t even describe to you, it’s my life, he was my superstar, and white horse, I mean come on, I can’t tell you how many times I cried to that after he died but it helped me not feel alone. I wouldn’t be who I am without Fearless, and then Speak Now was there for me when I needed a good cry, Last Kiss really broke me but it wasn’t until Lover came out that I realized I could find someone again, and it’s always just like you released things as I needed them like you were helping me through all the bad things,” she’s never even told Spencer all this, it was special to him that he got to give her this moment.

“When you re-released it with the vault songs, I met Spencer literally a month later. I cried my eyes out to you all over me, but That’s When makes me think of Spencer and now the whole album has a new memory in my heart that’s better. It's just like why you re-released it, to replace the bad things that happened that took all the happiness out of something you cared so much about." Y/N took a second to breathe, shaky as she got to the end of her rant that she seemed to have prepared in the 20 minutes before she had to talk to her.

"I love you, honestly. You’re my best friend and you didn’t even know me then, but you’ve held my hand through it all, so thank you,” she cried a little, holding her belly with one hand as she tried to hold the tears in.

Taylor was out of her chair and in Y/N’s arms within seconds, crying into her arms as she held her. She rubbed Y/N’s back as she cried too, “I’m so sorry that happened, but I’m glad I could be there.”

“Do you want to be this baby's godmother?” She asks on impulse without even asking Spencer if he’s okay with it, he was, it made him laugh.

“Eleonora Taylor Reid,” Spencer says from across the table, making them both turn to him with wide eyes.

“Yes,” Y/N agrees fast, “that's the name if it’s a girl, if it’s a boy he can be Taylor as well?”

“Holy shit,” Taylor smiled wide, “yes, I want to come to visit the farm and buy them baby gifts and throw you a baby shower! I inadvertently helped make them so it’s only fair.”

“Hopefully she gets your voice too, Y/N,” Spencer adds and Y/N shoots him a panicked glance, “it’s the Taylor legacy to be a good singer.”

“You can sing?” The question Y/N feared coming past Taylor's lovely vocal cords, almost on queue.

Y/N can't help but glare at spencer, he had too many tricks up his sleeve and she was at her limit.

“Yes,” Y/N finally answers, “I was going to go to theatre school, but I switched to become a Librarian, I’m not good with crowds or competition and that's basically what the industry depends on. I like the quiet, telling stories on paper is just as easy as singing it to a crowd.”

“That's fair,” Taylor agreed, “would you and Amoreena like to sing some song with me? I have my guitar or the piano? I’m not used to having new friends over without sharing at least 1 song with them. I’m sure you’ve seen my listening parties?” She was really trying to convince her to sing, Spencer knew why and what she had planned.

Amoreena came running in then, “I can play piano too, can we do the long live new year's day from the tour movie?” She rests her hands on Taylor's arm, looking up at her with the biggest puppy dog eyes.

“Of course, come on,” she says taking Amoreena’s hand and rushing into the piano room. “Here, we’ll record it too,” she offered, setting her phone up on the music stand to capture the moment forever.

They sat side by side on the bench, Amoreena showing her how she could play the opening perfectly and surprising Spencer. He knew they had a piano at home, he’s just never seen her play it before.

“She has perfect pitch,” Y/N bragged, “she can play a song after hearing it once.”

“Really?” Spencer had no idea, unbelievably proud of her as he listened to her play.

She’s quietly playing the intro to Long Live as Taylor watches, joining in with the harmony of New Year's Day, “this one reminds me of my mom and dad.”

“Does it?” Taylor coo’s, smiling at her softly as Y/N tries not to cry beside Spencer.

“They’re the knight and the princess of our kingdom,” she explained before the two of them started singing the words together, like they always have, only Taylor was beside her and not just on the TV.

“I said remember this moment, in the back of my mind, the time we stood with our shaking hands, the crowds in the stands went wild,” Amoreena’s tiny voice lead-in, fearlessly as she played away.

“We were the Kings and the Queens, and they read off our names, the night you danced like you knew our lives would never be the same... You held your head like a hero, on a history book page... It was the end of a decade, but the start of an age,” Spencer couldn’t help but cry as she sang with Taylor.

This was on the concert movie, he showed her after school, this song came on and she was silent, listening to the words as she stared at him and then back at the TV. Her mind was connecting little dots, making a story about her mom and dad being the king and the queen, it all made sense now.

“Long live the walls we crashed through, how the kingdom lights shined just for me and you, I was screaming long live, all the magic we made and bring on all the pretenders, I’m not afraid,

Long live all the mountains we moved, I had the time of my life, fighting dragons with you, I was screaming long live, that look on your face, and bring on all the pretenders, one day, we will be remembered,”

Their fingers moved in sync on the keys as they harmonized almost perfectly, she wasn’t kidding about Amoreena having perfect pitch. She knew all the words and sang them almost louder than Taylor.

“And hold on to spinning around, confetti, falls to the ground. May these memories break our fall…”

The piano changes, the cords softer as they move into a new song, smiling at her mom and dad like she knew something. She had no idea what happened the night of the fake wedding, just that they had a party without her.

“And hold on… To spinning around… Confetti… Falls to the ground…”

Spencer wraps his arms around Y/N then, resting his chin on her shoulder as they sway to the tune, she’s barely whispering the words beside him as she smiles as her baby.

“There's glitter on the floor after the party, girls carrying their shoes down in the lobby, candle wax and Polaroids on the hardwood floor, you and me from the night before, but… Don’t read the last page, but I stay when you're lost, and I'm scared and you're turning away. I want, your midnights, I'll be cleaning up bottles with you on New Year's Day,”

Y/N’s hands rest on top of Spencer’s, she squeezes them three times, right before the next lyric.

“You squeeze my hand three times in the back of the taxi, I can tell that it's gonna be a long road. I’ll be there if you're the toast of the town, babe, or if you strike out and you're crawling home,

Don't read the last page, but I stay, when it’s hard or it’s wrong or we’re making mistakes. I want, your midnights, but I'll be cleaning up bottles with you on New Year's Day,”

“Hold on, to the memories, they will hold on to you,” the two of them chanting along with Taylor in beautiful harmony, Spencer felt like he was in heaven among the angels, but for real this time. “And I will hold on to you…”

The piano is so soft, it’s just Amoreena’s fingers hitting them as Taylor goes silent, letting her take the lead with a soft smile, “Please don't ever become a stranger whose laugh, I, could recognize anywhere. Please don't ever become a stranger whose laugh, I, could recognize anywhere.”

They stop for just a moment for Amoreena to smile up at Taylor, just like the break in the concert, “I really do love you,” she reminds them all before playing again.

“We love you, too, sweet girl,” Taylor replies for them using the same nickname for her because it was the truth. She was the sweetest girl, that Amoreena.

“There's glitter on the floor after the party, girls carrying their shoes down in the lobby, candle wax and Polaroids on the hardwood floor. You and me forevermore, don't read the last page, but I stay when it’s hard or it’s wrong or we’re making mistakes and I want, your midnights, but I'll be cleaning up bottles with you on New Year's Day,”

“Hold on to the memories, they will hold on to you,” the girls all chant together, swaying back and forth to the rhythm before taking different parts in the song like they’ve planned it before.

“And Long live,” Taylor takes the one song, while Amoreena takes the other.

Please don't ever become a stranger…

The walls we crashed through..

Whose laugh I could recognize anywhere…

I had the time of my life

Please don't ever become a stranger…

With you…

Whose laugh I could recognize anywhere…"

Amoreena plays the rest, smiling wide at the best day of her life. Meaning every single word she’s saying. “And Long live, the walls we crashed through. I had the time of my life… With you…” Amoreena ends with a few extra notes, making Taylor smile as she held her in a side hug.

She turns back to the piano then, starting to play Amoreena by Elton John. “No way..” Y/N gasps, before getting ready to sing along with all the confidence in the world, alongside Taylor Swift of all people.

“It’s just that; Lately, I've been thinking, how much I miss my lady, Amoreena's in the hayfield, brightening the daybreak,” Taylor changes some of the words, much to Y/N surprise.

“Livin’ like a lusty flower, runnin’ through the grass for hours, rollin’ through the hay, oooh, like a puppy child! And when it rains, the rain falls down… washing out the cattle town… and she's far away somewhere… in her eiderdown… And she dreams of crystal streams, of days gone by when we would lean… Laughing, fit to burst, upon each other…”

Y/N turns to Spencer then, singing to him softly as she wraps her arms around him and sways her hips to the song, pressing against him like they were in the movie Dirty Dancing, something she’s always wanted to do, clearly, with the smile on her face as she sings.

“I can see you sittin’, eatin’, apples in the evenin’. Fruit juice, flowing slowly, slowly, slowly down the bronze of your body. Livin’, like a lusty flower, runnin’ through the grass for hours, rollin’ through the hay, oooh, like a puppy child.”

Amoreena’s voice was the loudest in the chorus, this was her song after all. She belted it out like it was made for her.

“And when it rains, the rain falls down! Washing out the cattle town! And she's far away somewhere… in her eiderdown! And she dreams of crystal streams, of days gone by! When we would lean, laughing, fit to burst upon each other…”

Spencer knew the words as well, who didn’t? It was Elton John's best song. He hugged Y/N, snuggling into the crook of her neck as they twirled in Taylor Swift's living room, swaying with her, forgetting they weren’t alone for a moment.

“Oh, if only I could nestle, in the cradle of your cabin. My arm's around your shoulder, oh… The window wide and open, while the swallow and the sycamore, whoa! Are playing in the valley. Oh, I miss you, Amoreena, like the king bee misses honey!”

“And when it rains, the rain falls down! Washing out the cattle town! and she's far away somewhere… in her eiderdown! And she dreams of crystal streams, of days gone by when we would lean! Laughing, fit to burst upon each other, oooh!”

Amoreena and Taylor playing the iconic piano solo together, Y/N can’t help but move in closer to watch over her little girls shoulders.

“Lately, I've been thinking… How much I miss my lady… Amoreena's in a cornfield, brightening the daybreak. Livin’, like a lusty flower! Runnin; through the grass for hours! Rollin’ through the hay, woah! Like a puppy, like a puppy, child…” Y/N’s voice loud enough to be on the recording Taylor was making as the song ended.

Taylor stopped it then, just as Y/N swore, “holy shit, that was the coolest thing that’s ever happened in my whole life.”

“Mom,” Amoreena looked at her like she broke the law or something, “you don’t swear in front of her…” she mumbled.

Taylor laughed, wrapping her up in another hug, “have you heard champagne problems? It’s okay for big kids to swear here,” she teased her.

They laughed like they were family like they’ve been there before and were always meant to return. Something just clicked with them, and without a doubt, they’d be returning. Taylor Swift of all people slipped right into their little life, filling the shoes of big sister, best friend and coolest aunt in the world all in one day.

It was the most perfect afternoon.

—

Just before the sunset, they all changed into their wedding attire. Meeting out on the beach for their small, extremely intimate wedding ceremony with miss Taylor Swift. Getting it out of the way so they could have the whole weekend for whatever Taylor had planned for them. She said she had a few surprises up her sleeve still.

They filled out all the paperwork required on Taylor's kitchen table beforehand, she had all the right documents from when she registered to ordain online. All they had to do was submit it at town hall and they’d be legally married.

But it didn’t matter to them, this was enough.

Taylor and Amoreena stood side by side at a homemade arch on the beachfront that Taylor owned, waiting patiently for Spencer and Y/N to walk down the fake aisle, hand in hand. They couldn’t stop smiling as they saw Amoreena at the end, a big smile on her face as she bounced with excitement.

They reached the end, turning to each other, Amoreena took Y/N’s bouquet, it was her duty as maid of honour and best man.

“Spencer and I have been emailing for 2 weeks about today, he’s been filling me in little by little about you both as he got to know you, I’ve really gotten to see his love for you in the form of letters,” Taylor described with a large smile on her face.

Y/N looks at him with an open mouth, shocked as she shakes her head in disbelief at him. “You’re kidding, is she who emailed you when we had lunch 2 weeks ago?”

Spencer nodded with another cheeky smile, “she emailed me as you told me not to plan anything too crazy.”

Y/N just laughed at the insanity, “sorry Taylor, please continue.”

“It’s okay,” she laughed along, “it’s actually kind of interesting how Amoreena picked long live and New Year’s Day to sing because from what I’ve learned about you both, the intermission poem from that tour really was written for you, somehow. Almost like by design or some violent, exquisite happenstance…”

Y/n’s eyed do that thing they always do when she’s remembering something she’s heard before, finding the exact filing cabinet in her mind and opening it. She finds the words.

“When she fell, she fell apart. Cracked her bones on the pavement she once decorated as a child with sidewalk chalk,” she starts the poem with a small nod, letting Taylor continue the monologue in the form of vows.

“When’s she crashed, her clothes disintegrated. And blew away with the winds that took all of her fair-weather friends, family and lovers. When she looked around her skin was spattered with ink. Forming the words of a thousand voices, echoes she heard even in her sleep: whatever you say, it is not right. Whatever you do, it is not enough. Your kindness is fake. Your pain is manipulative.”

Y/N hasn’t watched the concert recently, unlike Spencer. She didn’t realize how much it sounded like them. Spencer, however, spotted the coincidences the second he heard it that night with Amoreena. Telling Taylor, explaining in detail how Maeve and Stephen were their personal last kiss storylines, but they’ve found a lover in each other. Cheesy, but it was the best way he could describe it.

“When she lay there on the ground she dreamed of time machines and revenge. And a love that was really something. Not just the idea of something.”

She turned her attention to Spencer, replacing the pronouns to fit him for the next part, Y/N looked at him already knowing why, smiling as she made the connection in her mind.

“When he finally rose, he rose slowly. Avoiding old haunts and sidestepping shiny pennies. Wary of phone calls and promises, charmers, dandies and get-love-quick-schemes.

When he stood, he stood with a desolate knowingness, waded out into the dark wild oceans up to his neck. Bathed in his brokenness. Said a prayer of gratitude, for each chink in the armour he never knew he needed.

Standing broad-shouldered next to him, was a love that was really something. Not just the idea of something.

When they turned to go home, they heard echoes of new words: may your heart remain breakable but never by the same hand twice. And even louder: without your past, you could never have arrived so wondrously and brutally, by design or some violent, exquisite happenstance… here.”

“What she said,” Y/N says with a quick giggle, leaning in as she laughs, taking him down in a giggle fit with her.

Amoreena’s lightly tugging on Taylor’s dress then, “you have to say it, please you can’t not say it, I had this planned out before I even knew you’d beee here…” she whispers like Taylor has any clue what she’s talking about.

Y/N just starts to shake her head with a smile, “I think she means the speak now bridge,” she reminds her.

“Ahh,” she smiles, picking Amoreena up to be at eye level with them all, she sings. “I hear the preacher say speak now or forever hold, your, pee-E-eeace,” she sings it exactly like it is on the album, almost as if she’s been practicing to release it again…

“There’s the silence there’s my last chance, I stand up with shaking hands all eyes, on me,” Amoreena lightly signs right back. “Horrified looks from everyone in the room but I’m only looking at you!”

Spencer laughs then too, smiling at his little girl living out the fantasy of a lifetime, seeing her mom dressed like a princess and marrying the broken knight with rusty armour, while Taylor Swift of all people holds her. Nothing about the life they had together felt real, but he wouldn’t change it for the world.

“I think it’s only fair if I get a say in who marries my mom because I’ve known her the longest,” she adds, “and I’m not the kind of girl who should be rudely barging in on this white veil occasion, but you happen to be the best dad in the whole world, so I think it’s cool that you love my mom.”

Y/N lets out a choked sob, she clearly had no idea that Amoreena was planning to say all that, but of course, she was. She knew all about every single Disney princess wedding, every fairytale ending and happily ever after, Taylor has helped her learn about love and vows and true feelings that cannot be stopped.

She knew what to say and she meant every word.

Spencer reaches out to take Amoreena from Taylor, holding her in his arms instead as Y/N snuggled in close to them, both his girls in his arms.

“I think it’s only fair I give some vows to you as well, I’m committing my whole life to this family, you should know how much that means I love you, too, Amoreena.” She snuggles in closer to his neck as she holds him back, Y/N’s head resting on his other shoulder.

“Till the day I die, I am going to be here for you: with unconditional love, with the best stories and the best morning cuddles. I don’t care if you pull me out of bed at 5 in the morning to feed the goats, or the chickens or just because you think the sun looks pretty and want me to see it too. I love you Amoreena, you’ve completed my life."

"Do you remember that day you asked me to be your dad?” his voice is so soft as he bumps her cheek with his nose.

She wipes her tears as she pulls away from his shoulder, overly emotional at the events of the day and extremely tired from the excitement she let out earlier. She nods softly, “I meant it.”

“I know honey,” he can’t help but start to cry a little as well, dropping his manly facade and being real with her. She deserved to see exactly what she meant to him, “I watched you pouring glitter glue all over that table, making the biggest mess ever, but it made me think… I had a hole in my heart for so many years, there was a part of me missing for so, so, so long, and then I found a little Eden by beautiful little kingdom, and the fairest lady in all the land took me in, and she patched up my broken heart with glitter glue.”

Amoreena tried to smile the tears away, sniffling as she tried to nod, “that's how I felt when you told me I could pick you to be my dad.”

Y/N was a sobbing mess, having to crouch down to her knees as she let it all out, steadying herself by holding onto Spencer’s leg like a child would at that height, “is she okay?” Amoreena worried.

“Your mom loves us so much, and the baby does too, so it’s making her a bit more emotional than normal,” he explains, wishing he could scoop Y/N up and hold her as well.

She wipes the tears from her face as she calms herself down and stands back up with help from Taylor, “thank you,” she manages to whisper to her with a smile.

She’s also been crying, watching the most beautiful thing she’s ever seen. A family built on true love coming together, using her songs to form a bond that she’d never understand.

And she didn’t want to, some stories were best kept in families, to be sent down the line, generation after generation, to fall into the lap of someone like her one day and create a whole world with it.

“With the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband, wife and daughter, the royal Reid family,” Taylor’s voice is soft as she plays along with Amoreena’s fantasy land, hushed to match the moment as Spencer leaned in to kiss Y/N.

Amoreena doesn’t cry out in disgust this time, instead, resting her head on her dad's shoulder as she watched them peck each other's lips gently. Watching a fairytale happy ending unfold in front of her very eyes, blessed to be the result of this happy union.

...

A/N: my anon is on now if anyone wants to come talk about the fic with me!! i love to share little hc's and things with you over here (also this was the original planned ending I wasn't going to continue past here but I'm probably going to write this for the next 10 years its too fun not to)

tag list: @shemarmooresfedora @spencers-dria @spookyspence @reidsfish @manuosorioh @mochionly @samuel-de-champagne-problems @jswessie187

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid request #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine #amoreena

105 notes · View notes

har-rison-s · 5 years

Text

hypnotize

request: Alright, you are lovely! So, my request is Ben!Roger coming back home after weeks and the reader preparing a special night for them, including a striptease with music and all. Then, an awesome night of sex and love and talking.

A/N: Let's pretend that Hypnotize by Notorious B.I.G./Biggie Smalls already existed in the 70s cause I DIG that song and it makes me think about Roger, it's a fitting song for him in my mind. Hope this meets your standards. Happy reading!

warnings: I don't usually put up warnings in smuts, and this is no exception. I like to surprise people ;) also this is quite long

main masterlist

borhap masterlist

borhap!roger masterlist

Tours that I'm not able to go to are the worst. There's the doubts, the neediness, the stress, the daydreams and the longing. That one's the worst. Sometimes I feel like tossing and turning around in my bed because I miss Roger so much. I miss talking to him, waking up to him, eating together, going to his shows and rehearsals.

Of course, I miss his touch and his hands and his other physical, god-like gifts. The sexual frustration makes me crazy, as well. Not like I don't want to touch myself when he's not here because 'no fun without your man'. It's because I don't want to. Rather wait for him than do it myself. Maybe I'm lazy?

But, Roger's finally coming back home tonight from Queen's UK and Europe tour, and I couldn't be more excited. Nerves are taking a hold on me, and, even thinking that I'll see him in a couple of hours makes me shiver. Cliche, of course, but I'll be wearing his favourite underwear set under my flowery dress. And—another cliche—I'm making dinner and putting on a show afterwards. It's the least I can do for my boyfriend being the wonderful man he is.

“Now, now, there's the usual hook-up check.” I say, stretching the skin of his face softly here and there, checking for any trace of another female that might be left on him, even if accidentally. I've waited for them at the airport for what seemed like forever, and now, finally being able to hold him, I still can't resist my natural instincts.

His band mates snicker at my check, and Roger sighs quietly, not resisting and just waiting for the whole thing to be over. No lipstick trace, no hickeys, no puffy lips and no marks at the roots of his hair—also no hair pulled out—he's clean. I leave his head alone and then press the longest kiss to Roger's lips I can remember us sharing between ourselves. I've missed him too much. I feel Roger completely relaxing against my lips, his arms tightening around my torso and pulling my chest closer against his. My boobs feel squashed.

“I've missed you.” Roger whispers when he pulls just a mere centimeter away, watching my lips as he traces his thumb over them. A tear rolls down my cheek, I can't believe he's really here again, although it's been three months—some might say 'only'. I smile wide at him.

“I've missed you more.” I reply. Our foreheads touch and I close my eyes, just enjoying this particular moment.

“Two can play at that game, missy.” Roger says and I hear the smirk adorning his lips and giggle. Not so privately, he slaps his hand down on my bum and I shriek. “Let's get us home.” He says and I give him a smile. We turn around and say goodbye to the guys. We walk past them to get to an available taxi that will bring us right home.

Roger sighs once he and his suitcase have arrived home. I smile to myself, locking our apartment door and turning back around to Roger. “I hope you're hungry.” I say and Roger turns to me. He's put his jacket on a hanger and has quite the clueless look on his face. I grin and take his hand, pulling him towards our kitchen.

“I am. And very tired, as well.” He says and tugs along with me. I stop both of us at the table and Roger gasps quietly. I look at him, my head turned to him, and grin. He's seen the dinner and some silly decorations I chose. Nothing, really, but I liked them and thought they'd suit the occasion well. “Wow, baby.” Roger says and pulls me closer by my waist, pressing a kiss against my temple and I giggle. “Thank you, oh my. This looks wonderful.”

“So let's jump right in.” I say and walk over to the table, sitting down. Roger looks at me for a moment, and I raise my eyebrows. He walks over to the table to sit across me, and does exactly so.

“I feel like we're in a restaurant.” He admits and we both chuckle, exchanging playful glances. “This might be nothing for you, but wow... Pasta with meat, tomato sauce, greens, and—what's this?”

I laugh at his confusion. “White carrots.” I say. He says it might be nothing for me because of my profession - I'm a chef at a restaurant. I make food for the two of us when either I have time on my hands or when we have a special occasion. It's a natural thing, but I like to leave most of it at work and not bring work home.

“White carrots?!” Roger echoes and I nod. “What the hell are those?”

“They exist, believe it or not.” I reply and Roger laughs.

“Thought carrots were only orange.” He admits and I nod again. “Sorry I'm not that educated on the fancy vegetables, love.” He says and looks at me with sorry eyes, but I shake my head at him.

“Bon appetit!” I say, taking my fork in my hand.

“Bon indeed.” Roger replies and takes his, as well. He digs into his portion immediately and moans. I watch his reaction, similar to the one he has when I go down on him, and it's bound to graze my eyes many times tonight. I smirk at that. “God, this is so good, Y/N. I might have just come in my pants.” He says and I watch his face while I laugh, but his is full of seriousness.

“Well, glad you like it.” I reply and take a few mouthfulls of the pasta as well. “It really is good.” I state and Roger nods.

“It's amazing, baby.” He says. “How did I get so lucky with you, huh?” Roger asks and nudges my foot with his. I grin, looking at him for exactly a split second. “You look wonderful today, by the way. Love this dress.” He says and I blush, wanting to hide it with my hand, but failing. Roger's got a smirk on his face as he keeps eating his pasta. “Hope dessert includes the dress on the floor.”

“Shut up.” I laugh quietly and straighten my back. “So, how was Europe? Well, half of it...”

“Strange, really. A lot less people than we have here.” Roger responds. I nod, listening for more. “And all of them can talk english—it surprised us, even the sweds!”

“You sound a bit arrogant, Rog.” I state and he sighs.

“Just a culture shock! Nothing more,” he assures and I nod playfully, “ah, but the crowds and the welcoming was incredible.”

“Did you try any national foods?” I ask and he nods.

“I did! I photographed most of them, got the pictures in my case.” Roger tells me and I hum appreciatively. “Most of them were alright. Some were just crazy and too much other-wordly for me. Brian liked the ones that didn't have meat a lot. And there were few of those.” Roger says, raising his eyebrows. I chuckle. “And have you seen french and italian men? Christ! If it wasn't for you, I'd have nothing left to lose and—”

“Turn gay?” I finish his sentence, and scoff out a laugh. Is he serious?

“Yeah. You have to see those specimens.” He says, fully serious. I keep laughing, the thought of Roger looking at men with heart eyes makes me amused like nothing else. “Laugh at me all you want, but they're damn attractive.”

“Okay, Rog, do I have to fear that you'll run back off to some french barista?” I play along. Roger laughs and he shakes his head.

“Just have to keep me.” He answers. “Perhaps we could go for vacation to France.” He looks at me and I raise my eyebrows, nodding.

“My dream would finally come true, then.” I say. “Working in a Paris restaurant, living somewhere in a french cottage outside the city. Having the 'French diet' for breakfast, lunch and dinner.” Roger looks at me confused.

“The 'French diet'?” He repeats. I grin.

“Coffee, cigarettes and sex.” I explain. Roger hums and nods.

“That does sound quite nice.” He admits and I chuckle.

“Maybe a croissant here and there.” I say. Roger laughs. “Any new songs coming?”

Roger raises his eyebrows and tilts his head from side to side. “Yeah, I got some ideas, but not a song.” He says. “How have you been?”

I shrug and push another mouthful of pasta down my throat. “Nothing big.” I say. “Oh! One time there was a bachelor party at our place and guess what they ordered from us.” I look at him with a dead-serious face.

“The fianceé's portrait on a cake?” Roger suggests. I shake my head.

“The stupid cliché - a dick cake.” I answer and Roger bursts out laughing. “I know.” I say and shake my head, laughing as well.

“Didn't even know fancy places like yours did dick cakes!” He says and I laugh even more.

“The worst part was,” I say and point my fork to myself, “I had to do it.”

“Christ!” Roger exclaims and laughs again, throwing his head back. “Can't believe you had to go through that torture. When was it?”

“Uh, last Saturday.” I say once remembering. “And that was also the night we had the most costumers and I got a fish dropped on me.” I admit. Roger makes a disgusted face at me.

“Poor you, love.” He says with sympathy. I show him my tongue, which he smiles at, and look back down at my food. “Right, I'm already finished.” Roger says and leans into his chair with his back.

“Alright.” I stand up and walk over to the fridge, taking some whiskey and ice from it, and two glasses from the cabinet up above. I feel Roger's stare on my thighs, I know exactly what he's hungry for, what he's been missing for weeks on end. I grin and turn around, trying to get the satisfaction of it off my face.

“Aw, no, I should've got that.” Roger starts to say, but I shake my head. “You've done enough already.”

“I ain't done yet, darling.” I say and place our glasses down on the table. Roger gives me a curious raise of an eyebrow and watches me pour the whiskey into the glasses. I put two ice cubes in each glass and sit back down, wrapping my right hand's fingers around my glass. “When do you get your next vacation?” I ask after taking a sip.

Roger squints and takes a gulp from his glass as well, continuing to eat his pasta. “Probably after we finish our album.” He replies, but then opens his eyes wider. “Oh, no, sorry. It's now.” Roger finally says and I laugh. “Forgot for a moment where we are in the year.”

“That's alright.” I say. “We should do something together with the time we have, then.” I suggest and lean back in my chair, and Roger does the same. I notice his plate is empty and immediately rise back up, taking both our plates in hand and bringing them to the sink.

“Now, those I will definitely do.” Roger says and I hear him get up from his chair, but I turn around quickly.

“Roger, just relax.” I say and point to the exit of our kitchen. “Go to the living room, alright?” I ask of him and my hand drops to my side. Roger watches my eyes for a moment, searching for any faltering or unseriousness, but there's none to find.

“Yes, ma'am.” He answers and is off to the room in seconds. I chuckle at his eagerness and turn back to the plates. I scoff then, and put the plates in the washing machine. I ain't doing no dishes tonight.

I walk into the hallway where our record player stands and choose Roger's favourite sexy vinyl. I chuckle at that and remember the moment he called it that. I put the vinyl on the player and slowly put the needle on the vinyl. I love the sound of the vinyl's scratches before the music starts playing, and during the songs. It makes the whole listening experience much better.

The heavy beats of Notorious B.I.G.'s first song on the album play through-out our walls, and I close my eyes as I walk towards the living room. Roger's standing in the middle of it, and I lean against the doorframe.

“Sit down, love.” I say softly, which surprises him and he turns around. He eyes me up and down and then does as told. I don't like ordering or commanding him, it feels stupid when I tell him to do anything. There's a strange feeling in me when I do, but I don't mean it in a commanding or bossy way. This time I mean it differently.

Roger sits down and watches me walk over to stand in front of him, he then realises what song is playing—Hypnotize—and his head moves to the beat naturally. I smile at the response and shake my hips a little. Just a snippet from what I usually dance like when I'm home alone and this record is on.

His legs are parted slightly, and his hands are by his sides as he watches me move slowly over to him. My legs move slowly, and it's torturing him but also turning him on. The tent in his white pants is growing by the second, I grin.

I put my hands on his knees and spread them wider apart. While I run my hands up and down his thighs, I raise my head to watch his face change. His eyes are completely taken over by desire, barely keeping his beautiful orbs on me.

“Does this feel like home, Rog?” I ask sweetly, stopping my hands where his thighs meet his hipbones, gripping his thighs tightly. He whimpers and nods, his hand reaching up to take my cheek and bring it closer to him. My lips fall on his—the moment I've waited for all evening—and I sigh against Roger, completely melting into him. But I pull back and stand up, barely holding myself on my feet. I can't wait to have him all over me, holding me, inside me.

I pull my dress ever so slowly over my body, moving my hips from side to side once in a while. I hear Roger moaning once while the dress still goes over my head, and when it's finally on the floor, Roger's jaw drops to the floor.

I stand before him in the pink set of underwear that Roger so much loves, my hair moved over to the side from the dress. Roger's head hangs back against the sofa and he groans softly. “My god, baby...” He whispers, moving his leg around so his turn-on would feel more comfortable in the strained pants, and then looks back at me. I grin and stride back to him.

My legs are on each of his sides, straddling his lap, and I put my hands on his shoulders, then moving them up and down his biceps. I look into Roger's eyes and smile again. “Welcome home, Roger.” I say and kiss him. My hands go up to his cheeks, holding his face so that I can kiss him better.

Roger's hands are uncontrollable, they're moving over my bare back and waist in a quick pace as he pants between our slow kisses. I still want to tease the shit out of him, because nothing gives me an ego-boost like seeing him whimper and weaken because of me, under my touch. I kiss his lips slowly, stretching the moments in which our lips are parted, and then delve back in. I slip my tongue between his lips and Roger moans loudly, his grip tightening on my hips.

I move them against his thighs slowly, barely reaching my clothed core against his about-to-burst hard-on. Roger started to trail kisses down my neck, but my movements distract him and he hangs his head back against the sofa. I can't lose his attention on me, although I can't really complain.

“Roger...” I call for him and he looks at me with raised eyebrows, “please give me more.” I ask and bite my lip, feeling something building up in the depths of my core.

“What do you want, baby?” Roger asks and moves his hands down to my thighs, going up and down. I whimper, craving more of him and his touch.

“Touch me.” I whisper and my fingers slip past the borders of his pants, slipping inside his boxers. Roger stiffens when I grab onto his length, but lets out an animalistic groan when my hand moves up and down.

“Fuck, love,” he says and sits up straighter so he'd have a more comfortable reach. Roger moves his right hand down to my underwear and wastes no time, reaching right past the elastic and in between my folds. I fall against Roger's chest and his assault on my clit brings my hip movements to a stop, “like that? You like it when I touch you like that?”

I nod and moan against his neck, my lips stopping open in a kiss on his skin. With his other hand, Roger helps me move my hips up and down on his hand in a certain rhythm, bringing me closer and closer to the edge, but it keeps slipping away. My hand keeps slowly pumping him, and Roger returns moans and grunts to me in response. His two fingers are digging into me and he curls them, which makes me release a sound similar to a scream.

Roger reaches his free hand to my face and moves my face from his neck to above him, making our eyes connect. “Are you gonna cum, baby?” Roger asks in a challenging manner. I nod again, and my orgasm feels so close I can practically reach out and touch it with my fingertips. Roger shakes his head. “You're not coming unless it's on my cock.” He says and his words bring me to the edge. If it wasn't for him pulling out his fingers, I would've really come, but now I have to hold it in.

I pull my hand out of Roger's jeans to help him rid of them, sitting down next to him. I would have stood up, but my own legs are too wobbly. Roger takes off his boxers and immediately pulls my underwear down, as well. He stands up and lifts me off the sofa before laying me down on the floor. I give him a careful glance, but Roger just winks.

“There's not so much room there, is it?” He asks and leans down to me, his elbows resting on the carpet at each of my shoulders. His eyes are so hooded it seems he'll fall asleep any second now, and he only watches my eyes, his finger stroking the side of my face. “I could lay here and look at you like this for the rest of my life...” he admits, his voice sounding like a high pitched whisper. His falsetto is showing. I breathe out a chuckle and then stifle it immediately.

“Are you going to stare at me or fuck me?” I whisper, my thumb going over his sideburn while my fingers thread through his curls. Roger immediately shuffles his legs around and grabs onto my hips roughly, making me whimper and my back lifts off the carpet.

“Think we both know the answer to that, princess.” He says and I feel him pushing his length inside me slowly until he's filling me up completely. Roger relaxes against me once he's all the way in and groans heavenly. I watch his eyelids flutter and his lips part, and I trace my thumb over his lower lip softly. “Fuck, I've missed this.” Roger says and his head falls against my chest. My hand drops onto his back and I breathe out deeply, moaning at the very end at how he feels inside me. I've missed this, as well, Roger being so good to me in every way he can. Touching every inch of my walls with his cock.

“Please, move.” I beg him and Roger lifts his head in a second, grinning at me. He pulls out and then moves his hips back against mine, filling me up again and I throw my head back from the horribly ecstatic feeling. My hands tug at Roger's back and he presses kisses around my clothed breasts while his thrusts in and out of me increase their pace.

Roger puts his hands on the back of each of my thighs and hikes my legs up higher so that he can go even deeper into me, and he succeeds. The moan that leaves my lips is so high-pitched I fear that he may not top it even with his falsetto. My pelvis hurts from the spread, and I realise that our time apart has payed off badly. I'm not as used to him as I was. God, why? Why me?

“Roger,” I call for him softly, my voice laced with uncomfortablity, and he looks at me with furrowed brows. He notices the slightly pained expression on my face and halts his movements.

“What is it, baby? What did I do? Did I h-hurt you?” He asks and I nod barely noticably, there's even a tear at the corner of my eye. Regrettably. I've waited for this for three whole months. Stupid—“We can stop, I'm sorry.” Roger says and pulls out of me, and I whine at the loss of him. I feel so miserable now, so stupid. I wanted this, I didn't even think my body forgot... things. “Aw, don't cry, my love.” Roger says, but it does the opposite of stopping some stupid tears falling. I sit up and wipe them off quickly and look at Roger. My hand immediately reaches out to stroke him, and Roger wants to let me, but shakes his head. “It's alright, love, you don't have to—“ he interrupts himself with a sigh as I move my thumb over his tip, “go on.” Roger encourages me. He knows what he wants and needs, and also that I'm very stubborn.

I work his hard length and it makes Roger's forehead fall against my chest, only my name and heavy breaths leaving his lips. He tries to kiss my skin, but his kisses fade every time he starts. What does the trick and makes him come in seconds—he's already very impatient tonight and won't last long, I can tell—is me running my tongue over his lips and licking over his own. Roger comes, moaning my name in a high-pitched and high-volumed whines, his body shaking in short spasms, and I feel his cum already shooting out of him. I quickly move to sit in his lap and bend my back over his leg, letting his white ribbons decorate my bare stomach.

Roger almost loses his consciousness at the sight before him—me laying over his leg, his cum all over my stomach and my eyes watching his intently. My breasts are pushed up and my hair is sprawled all around my head. He thinks I'm a work of literal art, I can read that in his barely open eyes.

“Fuck.” He says in a breathy whisper. Roger's hair is wild - the closest strands to his face are sticky with sweat, but the rest are going in every other direction. I sigh and chuckle, and Roger looks down at me with a grin, his eyes dreamy. He's on his knees, leg pulled up from underneath me, and looking menacingly down at me. “Might need to repay the favour, eh?” He asks and leans down to my level. I nod.

“But not now.” I say before he can do anything. I'm still too sensitive. He raises an eyebrow at me, and then moves to lay next to me on his back.

“Mind telling me what was the matter?” He asks, turning his head to look at me. His hand sneakily reaches for mine and laces our fingers together. I look down at them, and then quickly at him, but returning my eyes to the ceiling afterwards.

“It hurt when you spread my legs apart.” I tell him. “I guess my body has forgot what it felt like having you inside me.” I admit and huff.

“We have time to remind it.” Roger smiles and I chuckle breathily.

“Didn't even think something like that could happen.” I say and then shake my head. “I'm sorry, Rog, that your welcome home present failed. I thought everything would be perfect...” Roger shakes his head now.

“It is perfect.” He says. “Believe me, it can happen to anyone, the body just... has a vacation.” Roger explains and I giggle at his choice of words. “Just do more stretches and read it up in your girl magazines. Don't be sorry.” I keep giggling. “Hey, I mean it. Don't you laugh!”

“Sorry, love,” I reply and look at him. He smiles wide at me and I return the gesture.

“Love you so much, Y/N.” He says, holding onto my cheek with his palm. “Don't you ever think you're any less than perfect, my girl.”

I smile into his hand and kiss the inside of it softly. I kiss up his hand until the middle of his forearm and then kiss his lips. It's sincere and full of love and understanding. “I love you, too.” I say. “I'm so glad you're home.”

Roger pulls me even closer to him by my waist. “'M glad to be home.” He admits and I smile wider, getting comfortable with my head against his chest. “Are we gonna stay here forever, then?” Roger asks, breaking the comfortable silence and I laugh.

Permanent taglist:

@v0idbella @inlovewithmiddleagedcelebs @works-of-fanfiction @destiel-stucky4ever-loki-queen

342 notes · View notes

theworstbob · 7 years

Text

the thing journal, 5.7.2017 - 5.13.2017

capsule reviews of the cultural things i took in last week. in this post: manchester by the sea, 2.0, old baby, no burden, we cool?, the far field, after laughter, stories we tell, brooklyn nine nine s2, hopeless romantic

1) Manchester by the Sea, dir. Kenneth Lonergan: So in one of the first couple Thing Journals, I gave a glowing review to PWR BTTM. I won't say something stupid like "I wish I could take them back," because I can't take back how I related to something at the time, but I do love it less than I did even just last week. So now I have to ask myself why I'm okay disowning PWR BTTM, but I still made time to watch and think about this movie. Casey Affleck isn't the whole movie, of course, there's several minutes' worth of credits showing that this movie is more than just one person's contributions, but he's the main part of it, this movie is about his character, this movie is about a dude who did something horrible and has to face up to the consequences, and Casey Affleck, who did something horrible and had to settle a case out of court, is playing that dude. It's a film about redemption, and everything about it (save the score, which, you're gonna make a film about lower-middle-class Boston and set it to opera? why...y?) is masterfully done, the teen boy isn't a whiny puke he's a person that does shitty teenager things and never has illegitimate angtsy feelings, the way people react to the Casey Affleck character coming into town is perfect, I would say this film is worth pushing past any discomfort one might have with the lead actor. It asks questions that one can argue require casting someone with a checkered past, namely, how do you decide when a person who did something awful deserves redemption? But: there are women who are permanently scarred by what Casey Affleck did to them, and if you can't push through that to see an A- film, that's a choice I can agree with. Art should be difficult, but everyone has limits, and all limits are valid.

2) 2.0, by Big Data: Well now that THAT'S out of the way, hey, this was just nice and good! This was a fun indie/electronic album with which I spent 40 minutes on a nice Sunday! I don't have much else to say, I don't do a lot of indie/electronic so I don't have a lot to compare it to, and it's just shallow enough that even when listening to it I couldn't come up with a lot in my mind other than "this is nice! this is also nice! just so many nice songs!" Which brings to mind one of the flaws of Thing Journal, which is that I'm turning each experience into a sort of solo thing, when I probably should be discussing the things I take in with other people so that I can develop more informed and better-rounded opinions on the things I enjoy, rather than bandying my opinions about in my own mind and growing all the more self-involved. So hey if anyone else wants to discuss a two-year-old indie/electronic album I've already forgotten, HIT ME THE HELL UP.

3) Old Baby, by Maria Bamford: If there's even a list of comics better than Maria Bamford going right now, it's probably a pretty short list. It's the same material as 20%, which means we get the joke about Maria Bamford telling her husand he CAN swim great distances if he really wants to, but I love the spin on the traditional stand-up setting: I think anyone coming to a Maria Bamford special understands what stand-up looks like, so this special devotes itself to the process, testing out jokes in front of smaller audiences or even just yourself, seeing how people react up close before you put them on a stage where you can't so easily gauge how an audience responds to them. It's just a treat. Maria Bamford's just a treat.

4) No Burden, by Lucy Dacus: It's funny how we come to albums sometimes, right? This came to me via Julien Baker's Twitter, via Dan Campbell's Twitter, via Grantland all those years ago. I really dug this one. I should have either taken more notes or put down these thoughts to WordPad before the day I needed to post a Thing Journal, HAHAHA REMEMBER HOW I FUCKED UP LAST WEEK WELP DID IT AGAIN Y'ALL, but I'm definitely down with what she's doin'.

5) We Cool? by Jeff Rosenstock: One of my favorite genres of music is "world-weary punk scene veterans who're still making music," and I thought this was a dope enough entry into that genre. I might revisit this, connection issues on the bus ride home meant I had to restart my phone twice while listening to it, but there's a lot I like here, like a less-folky Frank Turner sort of thing. Two sentences, that's enough, right, that's why this dude made an album to score two sentences on some dude's recap of things he barely thought about last week?

6) The Far Field, by Future Islands: I resisted listening to Future Islands for a long time because I wanted their Letterman performance to remain Perfect. I didn't want that thing, which is something I believe in whole-heartedly, to be sullied by knowing that Future Islands as a whole was something I might not be terribly into. But! I need to do 7 things a week, and they dropped a new album not too long ago so AWAY WE GOOOOOOOO I thought it was fine, mostly. I think it's quite obvious that this is a band that makes their trade performing live -- albums at this point are just flyers for live shows, but with this band, and that Letterman performance from several years ago, it truly feels like albums are perfunctory for this band, and what's great about their songs comes out in the live performance. So, hey, maybe one day I'll actually go to a concert? What a weird idea, to actually support artists! Might be fun tho

7) After Laughter, by Paramore: this is such a fucking amazing album about being depressed, about saying "fuck it" and being impatient with optimistic people and not knowing where to go or how to extricate oneself from the darkness. every song on here is amazing, and the new sound is great without being that dramatic a departure for paramore -- it's new, but it's also a logical next step, if you can't be pop/punk forever hey guess what POST/PUNK, and the cheery '80s backdrop is the perfect set for this album about feeling empty and seeing no way out. It's not even an album about a way in; there's never any reason given for being depressed, no one died, nothing was lost, it just happens, which is true to the reality of mental illness. This is a classic, and it's gonna take a hell of a thing to supplant this as 2017's #1 album.

8) Stories We Tell, dir. Sarah Polley: This is a brave piece of art. The effort it must have taken to get all the parties to agree to do this, to tell their story of Sarah Polley's mother and her parentage, is just unfathomable, convincing all these people that the project is a good idea and that there is a clear vision and that their voice is needed to paint the whole picture. And, man, they really nail it -- I love the way everyone's accounts inter-mingled, people contradicting each other, people all agreeing that one person did something and that person saying someone else was responsible, it's all woven together to create something beautiful. One of the best moments in this film is maybe one of my favorite moments in any film, something that made me sit up and say "Oh, fuck yeah" to this documentary on my laptop, when one of the storytellers rails against the very idea of this movie by stating exactly why this film needed to exist, it was this beautiful, Real moment. The more i think about this, the more I find I really dug it.

9) Brooklyn Nine-Nine s2, cr. Michael Schur & Dan Goor: This made a leap, yep. I thought the Peralta/Santiago romance worked a lot better this season, mostly because they accentuated Santiago's teacher's pet/hall monitor tendencies -- they took steps to paint Santiago as someone who isn't that much more mature than Peralta, but without completely tearing her character down, only down enough that it made the romance more believable. Rosa in a relationship was great, giving Andre Braugher an enemy and letting that character seethe with rage was always gold, and the show used guest stars perfectly this season. I love Craig Robinson as a recurring thing, Kyra Sedgwick was outstanding as Wuntch, and I always forget that Eva Longoria's a talented comic actress. It didn’t quite make the leap into greatness; the show thinks that Hitchcock and Scully are funnier than they are (and it’s really hard to derive humor from incompetent white cops in 2017 when the cops that are committing atrocities are the Hitchcocks and Scullys of the world; there was a way for them to know this when the show started, if not in a way that was readily apparent, and as time goes on and we learn more, those characters are really tough to accept as harmless boobs), and Joe Lo Truglio sometimes seems like he’s on a different show (he’s great I love him, but even on this show he is way too cartoony, he and Andy Samberg aren’t the chillest comic duo in the world y’know?), but even if it’s not one of The Greats, I don’t think I can point to an episode from this season I would grade lower than a B. Solid stuff.

10) Hopeless Romantic, by Michelle Branch: This is kind of like the Acceptance record from a couple months back: it is lovely to hear seasoned professionals doing the thing they do best. I am unlikely to revisit this, I think I've pretty much nailed down how I feel about this (I feel it is nice and the songs are fine), but the thing Michelle Branch is best at is writing songs, and it was a pretty much okay way to fill a walk on a nice Saturday afternoon.

0 notes