Work Text:
The morning started peacefully enough.
Tyler was in the kitchen, wearing pajama pants patterned with frogs playing banjos and one of Josh’s hoodies, sleeves too long and flopping past his fingers. He was attempting to balance a banana on his head while dancing to a playlist titled “vibes for when you love your husband but also need to cause a little mischief.”
Josh was nearby, stirring a pot of oatmeal like it had personally wronged him. Jim, Josh’s impossibly chill dog, was under the table chewing what may or may not have once been a sock. Possibly Tyler’s. Possibly a stranger’s. No one was brave enough to find out.
“Okay,” Tyler announced dramatically. “If I keep this banana balanced for ten full seconds, I get to name our next plant.”
Josh didn’t look up. “It’s gonna be another fake Italian name, isn’t it?”
“Respectfully, Josh, you named our last succulent ‘Chairman Meow,’ so I don’t think you get to gatekeep plant names.”
“That was creative and you know it.”
The banana lasted seven seconds before launching itself off Tyler’s head and smacking the fridge with a wet-sounding thwump. Jim looked up for a brief moment, as if judging their entire lives, and then returned to sock-chewing.
Josh’s phone pinged once.
Then again.
And again.
And then started vibrating like it was trying to physically escape the kitchen counter.
“Uh,” Josh said, furrowing his brows. “Did someone die? Or is Twitter mad again?”
Tyler spun dramatically and landed in a squat. “Could be either. Could be both. Could be Mark forgot to schedule a post and now the Clique is crying in the comments.”
Josh picked up his phone. Squinted. His eyes widened slightly. “Oh.”
“What oh?” Tyler asked, immediately suspicious.
Josh turned the screen toward him slowly, like he was about to reveal a cursed artifact. “You said it.”
Tyler blinked. “Said what?”
Josh pointed at the caption of a fan-made TikTok already 200k likes deep:
“WHEN TYLER SAID ‘when Josh and I got married’ AND NOBODY NOTICED???”
“Oh,” Tyler said. Then, brightly: “Oh yeah. I did say that. Huh.”
Josh’s phone exploded. Mentions flying in so fast the notification banner short-circuited.
Tyler’s phone buzzed on the counter and immediately fell off the edge from the sheer velocity of messages.
“Why didn’t anyone notice that yesterday?” Tyler asked, casually picking it up and scrolling. “I was so casual about it.”
“That’s why! You just slipped it in between a story about hot sauce and your fear of squirrels. Nobody processes anything you say.”
“Fear of squirrels is valid.”
“Also—YOU JUST OUTED OUR ENTIRE MARRIAGE IN A PODCAST INTERVIEW.”
Jim barked once, supportively.
Tyler, unfazed, grinned and read aloud from his phone. “‘#SOYOUMEANTACTUALLYMARRIED’? That’s trending globally. Jenna just texted me thirty-seven crying emojis and said ‘I KNEW U WOULD SLIP UP EVENTUALLY’”
Josh groaned and dropped his forehead dramatically onto the kitchen island.
Tyler kept scrolling. “A fan found that blurry photo from backstage at Bandito where I’m wearing your hoodie and kissing your hand. The caption says: ‘They were giving us crumbs while sitting on the whole damn wedding cake.’”
Josh mumbled something into the granite countertop that sounded like: “Mark’s gonna quit. He’s gonna open a bookstore in Ohio and change his name to Steve.”
“Debby says if we don’t post wedding photos, she’s leaking the one of me crying over that s’more.”
Josh looked up. “The s’more, Tyler.”
“It was a deeply moving dessert experience.”
Another ping.
“Oh, and Jenna wants to throw us a ‘Congratulations on the Accidental Public Soft Launch of Your Secret Marriage’ party.”
Josh finally gave up and laughed, because really, what else could he do? “What do we even say to the internet?”
Tyler, without missing a beat, opened Twitter.
“No—wait, Tyler—”
“Too late,” he sing-songed, thumbs flying.
@tylerrjoseph:
yeah sorry we forgot to tell you guys we’ve been married for like 7 years lol anyway here’s a pic of jim wearing our rings like toe beans 🐾💍
Attached Photo:
A blurry, zoomed-in pic of Jim’s paw, both wedding rings delicately balanced between his toes. He looks majestic. He looks mildly irritated. He looks iconic.
Josh read the tweet. “That is going to make everything worse.”
“I know,” Tyler said, smug. “And yet? No regrets.”
Josh leaned against him with a sigh, the kind that says I love you, but also you are an agent of chaos sent by the gods. “We’re gonna have to call Mark.”
Tyler kissed his cheek. “Only if he hasn’t already changed his number.”
Jim barked again, twice this time, and wandered into the hallway.
Somewhere deep in Twitter’s servers, chaos reigned.
And in the Dun-Joseph household, breakfast resumed as usual.
Well.
Sort of.
Ten minutes. That’s how long it took for Mark’s world to fall apart. Ten minutes from “normal Wednesday morning” to “full-on digital wildfire.”
Josh’s phone rang with the saddest ringtone known to man: “Mark Cell 😔☕️”
Tyler looked up from where he was smearing strawberry jam on a toaster waffle like he was painting a masterpiece. “Oh no. Do you think he saw the tweet?”
Josh answered on speaker. “Hey, Mark.”
“No.”
Josh blinked. “No?”
“No. I’m not okay. I’ve had one sip of coffee. I haven’t even fed my dog. And I open my phone—my one sanctuary, mind you—and what do I see?”
A pause.
“You two. Soft launching a seven-year marriage with a blurry dog paw pic and a caption that reads like a sassy afterthought.”
Tyler beamed. “You saw it!”
“Oh, I saw it. I also saw the Buzzfeed headline that reads ‘Did Twenty One Pilots Just Gaslight Us for an Entire Decade?’ and I saw the Instagram comment from someone who said, and I quote, ‘This is my 9/11.’”
Josh snorted into his coffee. Tyler wheezed. Jim barked, possibly in agreement.
“Do you know how many press outlets have emailed me in the last ten minutes?”
Tyler offered, “Like… four?”
Four? TYLER. CNN DM’d me. CNN. I am not trained for this. I was hired to manage flights, make music videos and make sure you didn’t die in a fog machine accident.”
Josh winced. “That one time—”
“And now I’m supposed to… what? Write an official statement that says, ‘Yes, they’ve been legally married since Trench, no it’s not a joke, yes the dog is aware’?!”
Tyler muttered, “Jim signed the certificate. He was our witness.”
“I’M HANGING UP.”
“Wait, wait—Mark,” Josh said, holding back a laugh. “We can fix this.”
“No, I can fix this,” Mark replied grimly. “I’m gonna schedule a tweet. Something normal. Something calm. Like, ‘We’re so grateful for your love and support,’ blah blah blah.”
“You could just post the photo of us in the cloaks,” Tyler suggested.
Mark sounded like he was ready to kill a man. “If you send me one more picture where you two look like chaotic gay wizards getting married in the forest, I will walk into the ocean.”
“...That’s fair.”
There was a pause. A long, painful pause.
“I have to reschedule a BBC interview now because they want to do a segment on it. A segment. They called it ‘The Dun-Joseph Reveal Heard Round the World.’ That’s not journalism. That’s a fanfiction title.”
Tyler whispered, “That’s actually a really good fanfiction title.”
Mark hung up.
Silence filled the kitchen.
Josh looked at Tyler.
Tyler took a bite of his waffle.
Jim walked by with a pair of sunglasses in his mouth.
“Should we… do something responsible?” Josh asked.
Tyler considered. “Define responsible.”
Josh paused. “Like… post a real wedding photo?”
Tyler grinned like a man with a death wish. “Only if we Photoshop in an audience of raccoons.”
Josh reached for his phone. “Say less.”
It was quiet in the kitchen. Too quiet.
Josh was staring at his phone like he was debating launching a missile. Tyler, now halfway through his second waffle and a glass of orange juice, narrowed his eyes.
“What are you doing?”
Josh didn’t answer.
“Josh.”
Still nothing.
“Joshua William Dun—”
“Too late,” Josh said, hitting send with the calm malice of a man who knows exactly what kind of chaos he’s about to inflict on the world.
Tyler lunged across the table. “WHAT DID YOU JUST—”
@joshuadun:
just seemed like a nice morning to drop this
Attached: One (1) wedding photo.
Josh, beaming ear to ear, standing in a field in a black tux and holding a shockingly large bouquet of sunflowers like the sunshine husband he is.
Tyler, in a matching suit with his hair half-up, face blotchy from clearly sobbing, clutching Josh’s hand like it’s the only thing tethering him to the earth.
The background? Forest. Vaguely mystical.
Jenna can be seen in the background photobombing with a disposable camera.
Jim the dog is wearing a bowtie. A small veil is clipped to his head.
Five seconds pass.
Twitter explodes.
Trending Worldwide:
#JoshlerWedding
#TylerWasCRYING 😭
“He’s holding a BOUQUET your honor”
“THE DOG WAS THE RING BEARER”
“I THOUGHT THEY WERE JOKING. THEY WERE NOT JOKING.”
Fan Tweet:
“NO CAUSE TYLER IS SOBBING AND JOSH LOOKS LIKE THE SUN CAME TO LIFE. I’M NOT OKAY.”
Another:
“they posted this like it’s normal. like we haven’t been STARVING. you EVIL, MARRIED MEN.”
Another, slightly unhinged:
“i’m standing in the dairy aisle crying into a wheel of brie. i didn’t know they were in LOVE love.”
Back in the kitchen, Tyler stared at the post in horrified awe.
“You… you posted the crying photo?!”
Josh grinned. “It’s a classic. Iconic even. You looked so soft.”
“I WAS UGLY CRYING, JOSH.”
“Baby, it was beautiful.”
Tyler’s face scrunched up again and Josh saw the exact moment it happened: the sniffle. The watery eyes. The quiver of the lip.
“Oh no,” Josh whispered. “He’s doing it again.”
“I just—” Tyler’s voice cracked, “you were holding flowers, Josh.”
Jim barked once, solemnly.
Josh reached across the table and gently wiped Tyler’s cheek with a napkin. “C’mere, my emotionally unhinged cryptid.”
Tyler launched himself into Josh’s arms.
From the hallway, Josh’s phone buzzed again.
He ignored it.
The world could wait.
Let them scream. Let Twitter burn.
His husband was crying over wedding flowers again and frankly, he had priorities.
It was happening.
Josh knew it the second he saw the name pop up on his phone:
GROUP FACETIME: “THE MOTHERS 💅🍷💍”
Tyler, mid-sip of his almond milk latte, saw the screen light up and froze. “…They saw the post.”
“They definitely saw the post.”
“They’re going to yell.”
“We deserve it.”
Josh sighed and answered.
[FACETIME CONNECTING...]
The screen flickered to life, immediately revealing Laura Dun and Kelly Joseph, perched on a couch together like two chaotic fairy godmothers armed with passive-aggressive fury and matching wine glasses.
Laura was in a fleece blanket that looked like it had cats doing yoga poses. Kelly had on a silk scarf and was already pointing a very long fingernail at the camera.
“EXPLAIN. YOURSELVES,” Kelly said, like they’d just confessed to a felony.
Josh held up his hands. “Hi. Good morning. Love you.”
Laura narrowed her eyes. “You POSTED IT.”
“We talked about this,” Kelly added, swirling her wine like she was about to cast a spell. “We were all on the same page. Low-key. Private. Family-only wedding. No fanfare.”
“We agreed!” Laura said, pointing at Josh with her wine stem. “We all AGREED.”
Tyler looked vaguely like a raccoon who had been caught raiding the fridge. “I mean… we didn’t post the actual ceremony?”
“You posted THE RING PAW PICTURE, TYLER,” Kelly snapped. “You posted a PICTURE of your DOG WEARING YOUR WEDDING RINGS like it was TUESDAY.”
“There were emojis,” Laura whispered, distraught. “Toe bean emojis.”
Tyler tried to fix it. “Okay—yes—but it was cute?”
Josh nodded. “Really cute.”
Kelly looked directly into the camera like she was about to throw hands through the screen. “Cuteness is not a legal defense, Joshua.”
“We just didn’t think it would be a big deal,” Tyler added.
“Not a big deal?” Laura screeched. “You two trended higher than the President and someone made a moodboard of your wedding photo in under six minutes. I saw it. It had lavender fields. And a quote from Pride & Prejudice.”
“Your father asked if you two were launching a side hustle as forest influencers,” Kelly muttered.
Josh blinked. “That’s kind of flattering—”
“NO.”
Tyler held up both hands. “Okay. That’s fair. We should’ve given you a heads up.”
“Should’ve texted,” Josh said.
“Or called.”
“Maybe emailed.”
Laura squinted. “You sent Mark a screenshot, didn’t you.”
Tyler looked at the ceiling.
Kelly gasped. “YOU WARNED THE TOUR MANAGER BUT NOT YOUR OWN MOTHERS?”
Josh leaned into Tyler’s shoulder. “I didn’t want Mark to panic.”
“MARK LIVES IN A STATE OF PERMANENT PANIC,” Laura said.
“And now we’re in it, too,” Kelly sighed, setting her wine glass down. “Do you know how many cousins have texted me today? Do you know what it’s like to get a DM from your ex-sister-in-law that just says ‘THEY’RE MARRIED?!?! 😭’?”
Laura groaned. “My Zumba instructor made me do a celebration squat.”
There was a beat of silence.
Tyler scratched Jim’s head beneath the table. “…We love you.”
Kelly looked into the camera. “Don’t think I won’t emotionally weaponize this for the rest of your lives.”
“I already started a folder of screenshots,” Laura added, sipping her wine.
“Okay,” Josh said, “That’s fair.”
Tyler held up a peace sign. “We’ll text you next time we accidentally go viral for being husbands.”
“You better,” Kelly said, but she was smiling now.
“You both looked beautiful, by the way,” Laura added, eyes softening. “I cried. Again.”
Tyler sniffled. “I cried too.”
“We KNOW,” both moms said in perfect unison.
They hung up.
Josh turned to Tyler and said, “That could’ve gone worse.”
Tyler wiped his eyes. “I’m giving them matching mugs that say ‘My son soft-launched his marriage on Twitter’ for Christmas.”
From under the table, Jim barked once in approval.
[NOTIFICATION: debbynryan started a live video with jennablack]
Twenty seconds in, over 30k people are watching.
By 90 seconds? 112k.
The comments are already screaming:
“WHY ARE THEY TOGETHER”
“IS THIS ABOUT THE WEDDING”
“BLINK TWICE IF TYLER IS CRYING AGAIN”
Jenna’s in a hoodie that says “I KNEW” in Comic Sans. Debby’s in sunglasses, indoors, holding an iced oat milk latte with whipped cream and zero shame.
“Hi, everyone,” Jenna says sweetly. “Welcome to our impromptu press conference.”
Debby leans into frame and whispers: “It’s not really a press conference. But it is an emotional reckoning.”
“Today’s topic,” Jenna says, holding up a piece of printer paper that just says:
‘MARRIED??’ in Sharpie.
“We’re gonna talk about… them.”
The comment section goes feral.
“DROP THE TEA.”
“SAY EVERYTHING YOU KNOW.”
“I THOUGHT THIS WAS GOING TO BE ABOUT SKINCARE WHY ARE YOU SHATTERING MY REALITY”
“Okay, first of all,” Jenna begins, “we’ve known they were married since 2018.”
“You knew,” Debby interjects. “I suspected. I told my mom. She placed a bet.”
“They invited us. We were there.”
“Jenna gave a toast.”
“You cried!”
“You cried harder.”
“Josh wrote Tyler a poem and read it out loud in a forest while Jim wore a little bowtie,” Jenna says dreamily.
“Which, yes, was exactly as unhinged and romantic as it sounds,” Debby confirms. “There were candles in trees.”
“They kissed before the officiant even finished. I yelled at them from the front row.”
“They high-fived after the kiss.”
Debby dramatically pulls off her sunglasses. “And you people are surprised?”
“THEY HIGH-FIVED??”
“DEBBY PLEASE”
“SHE SAID ‘ROMANTIC’ LIKE SHE’S HAUNTED BY IT”
Jenna holds up her phone. “We told them not to post the dog pic.”
“I said, ‘Give the internet time. Be gentle.’”
“And what do they do?”
“RING PAW.”
They sip their coffees in synchronized disappointment.
“They soft-launched their marriage like they were announcing a collab with a granola brand,” Debby deadpans.
“I love them. I really do,” Jenna says, “but they’re absolute feral cryptid husbands.”
“They’ve had matching robes for YEARS,” Debby adds. “One says ‘Mr.’ and the other says ‘Also Mr.’ I’ve seen them. With my eyes.”
“I walked into their house once and they were building a blanket fort and arguing over whose turn it was to be the little spoon.”
“IM GONNA THROW UP”
“I’VE NEVER BEEN HAPPIER”
“FERAL CRYPTID HUSBANDS IS SO REAL”
Jenna glances at the screen. “Okay, we gotta go soon. This is already spiraling.”
“Josh just texted me ‘PLEASE STOP,’” Debby reports cheerfully.
“Too late.”
“Way too late.”
They both blow kisses to the camera.
“Oh,” Jenna adds. “If you think this is peak chaos? You haven’t even seen the group chat leaks yet.”
“Goodbye, besties,” Debby purrs, ending the stream.
[LIVE ENDED – 287K viewers]
Back at home, Josh is face-down on the couch.
Tyler is lying next to him in silence, scrolling through clips of the live, muttering, “Cryptid husband… that’s not even inaccurate.”
Jim the dog is sitting on top of a throw pillow like a smug gremlin.
Josh lifts his head and says weakly, “We’re gonna have to log off the internet for like… a year.”
Tyler doesn’t even look up.
“We’re trending again. The number one hashtag is #AlsoMr.”
Josh sighs into the couch. “Fair.”
It started with one photo.
One innocent little picture: Josh, in front of a mirror, hair messy, soft lighting, wearing a clearly oversized hoodie with “COLUMBUS” written in fading letters. The sleeves hang past his hands. The caption reads:
“stole my husband’s hoodie again. not sorry. 💅”
Twitter implodes.
Trending Worldwide within minutes:
#JoshlerDomesticEra
#HeSaidHusbandLikeItWasCasual
#TylerGiveHimMoreHoodies
“I DIDN’T KNOW I COULD BE ENVIOUS OF FABRIC.”
The next day? He posts again.
A blurry, cozy photo:
Tyler, asleep on the couch, face smushed into a pillow, one arm wrapped protectively around Jim. There’s a throw blanket tangled around both of them. Tyler’s foot is sticking out and he has a tiny cartoon bandaid on his toe.
The caption?
“my whole world is asleep on the couch rn 🥹”
“yes that bandaid is dinosaur-themed”
“no he will not let me remove it.”
Fan Responses:
“JOSH STOP I CAN’T LIVE LIKE THIS.”
“they’re soft married and chaotic what kind of combo is this.”
“the fact that Tyler Joseph owns dino bandaids is so hauntingly on brand.”
“i’m crying in the break room again thanks a lot”
Then it escalates.
Josh starts curating his chaos.
He posts a photo carousel titled:
“A Day in the Life of Husbandry.”
Tyler stirring something on the stove, wearing nothing but pajama pants and Josh’s backwards snapback.
Jim sitting politely next to a bowl of dog food with a tiny napkin tucked into his collar like he’s at a Michelin-star restaurant.
A candid of Tyler humming while doing the dishes, captioned “he sings while he scrubs. it’s how he lures me into helping.”
A blurry selfie of Josh with flour on his face, grinning like a menace.
The final pic? Tyler, holding a burnt pancake with a frown and a caption:
“i tried my best” – him
Twitter? In shambles.
“I THOUGHT THEY WERE MYSTERIOUS AND ANGSTY I WASN’T READY FOR ‘HE SINGS WHILE HE SCRUBS’”
“who do I sue for the emotional whiplash of feral trench-era tyler becoming domestic sad poet husband”
“why is this more comforting than soup”
Back at home, Tyler stares at his phone.
The latest post? Josh caught a pic of him cutting vegetables and looking so husband—messy hair, concentration face, tattooed arms, soft grey t-shirt.
The caption:
“in this house we dice 🧅 and we dice with love.”
Tyler groans. “You’re out of control.”
Josh looks at him over his cereal bowl. “They need this.”
“They need therapy!”
“They need content.”
Tyler flops dramatically onto the couch. “At this rate, someone’s going to write fanfiction about me folding laundry and make it emotional.”
Josh: “…should I post the one of you folding laundry in your socks?”
Tyler: “JOSHUA NO—”
Too late.
Josh is already uploading.
[NEW POST:]
📸: Tyler, folding a t-shirt in a patch of sunlight, smiling faintly at Jim who’s watching like it’s performance art.
Caption:
“he folds. he shines. he tells the dog he’s doing a good job.”
Comment Section:
“I didn’t know I needed this but now I’ll die without it.”
“This is the kind of love that heals bloodlines.”
“I want what they have. I want a man who narrates my laundry.”
“I’m gonna go cry into a bowl of rice.”
Mark sees the post, lets out a low groan, and changes his Twitter display name to “I tried my best – me.”
Tyler buries his face in a pillow.
Josh sits beside him, smug and cozy.
“Are you done yet?” Tyler mumbles.
“Not even close,” Josh replies, uploading a video of Tyler yelling “WHERE ARE MY LEFTOVER TACOS” with his hair sticking up like a hay bale.
The caption?
“the husband in his natural habitat.”
The internet? Done. Cooked. Destroyed.
And Josh?
Still posting.
It all started because Tyler got fed up.
Not with Josh.
With Josh’s posting supremacy.
Tyler, scrolling through Josh’s latest post—himself, mid-yawn, wrapped in a robe with the caption:
“he yawns like a baby deer 🥺🦌”
—groaned into a couch cushion.
He muttered, “This is slander. I am cool and mysterious.”
“You’re literally wearing llama pajama pants.”
“I’m reclaiming the narrative.”
It wasn’t a competition.
Fuck it, yeah it was.
Tyler makes his first move.
A candid shot of Josh asleep on the living room rug with Jim curled up on his back like a dog backpack. Caption?
“my husband fell asleep mid-conversation. no thoughts, only retriever.”
The fans go FERAL.
“WE’RE CALLING THAT POSE THE ‘DUN DOWN’”
“i am holding this photo like a warm cup of tea”
“he sleeps like a victorian orphan in a field”
Josh wakes up to 150k likes and a DM from Tyler that says simply:
“countered.”
A thirst trap of Tyler in sweatpants, cooking pancakes. Caption?
“you ever seen a man flip pancakes and break hearts at the same time.”
Twitter EXPLODES.
“josh. joshua. you are ENDANGERING THE PUBLIC.”
“this is domestic thirst and i need to lie down.”
“he’s just like me (i also burn pancakes while being hot)”
Tyler reposts it to his story with the caption:
“i will destroy you. with love.”
It happens.
Two hashtags rise:
#TeamJosh: “The Wholesome Chaos King”
#TeamTyler: “Silent but Deadly (with a camera roll full of blackmail)”
One fan makes a graphic comparing their tactics like it’s Pokemon:
Josh: “Candid Affection • Cozy Lighting • Soft Captions”
Tyler: “Pajama Blackmail • Sneak Attacks • Feral Precision”
Debby reposts it with:
“we trained them well 😌”
Jenna comments:
“i just want peace but also this is better than Netflix”
Mark is tired. Ready to sue twitter and instagram for emotional distress.
Phone ringing off the hook.
Labels calling. Sponsors confused.
Texts from management:
“What’s happening?”
“Do they need a PR team?”
“Why is there a meme of Tyler holding a spatula like a sword??”
Mark texts the group chat:
Mark: can y’all CHILL
Tyler: sorry i was folding towels and had an idea
Josh: you’re gonna LOVE tomorrow’s post
Mark: i’m not paid enough for this
Jim: 🐾
(Mark doesn’t know how the dog got in the chat. No one does.)
Tyler drops a video montage on Instagram.
Josh brushing his teeth with his eyes closed.
Josh giggling while trying to zip up a hoodie that’s clearly too small.
Josh petting Jim while whispering, “You’re my real son.”
Josh tripping over laundry and yelling “SABOTAGE” in falsetto.
Overlayed with romantic music. Fade to black.
Caption?
“he is beauty. he is grace. he fell down the stairs at our first Airbnb.”
Josh responds... with a photo album titled: “husband.exe has crashed 💕”
Tyler looking lost in the grocery store, holding two identical jars of pickles.
Tyler holding up a sock and yelling “THIS ISN’T MINE” like it’s a murder weapon.
Tyler napping with Jim’s paw on his face like a weighted blanket.
A selfie of them both grinning post-argument with ice cream pints.
Caption?
“love is real. and also mildly unhinged.”
THE INTERNET: HEALED.
THE FANDOM: FED.
MARK: CRYING.
Tyler is face down on the couch. “You started this,” he mutters, scrolling through comments.
Josh smirks, sitting beside him with a bowl of cereal.
“Yeah, and I ended it. With a sock photo.”
“You monster.”
“You love me.”
“I do.”
Jim barks softly and presses his paw to Tyler’s phone.
Mark’s phone buzzed AGAIN. For the hundredth time that day.
He picked up, groaning, his voice thick from zero sleep and approximately seven empty coffee cups littering his desk like casualties of war. His hair looked like a tumbleweed had decided to settle on his head — clearly, a brush had not graced it since the chaos began.
“Josh? Tyler? Please tell me you two have stopped posting,” Mark begged, voice cracking slightly. “I don’t know how much more of this my sanity can take.”
On the other end, Josh laughed — a full, carefree, utterly delighted laugh — while Tyler rolled his eyes, though the smile tugging at his lips gave away his amusement.
“Mark,” Josh said, practically grinning through the phone, “you’re underpaid for this, but also, it’s fun watching the internet burn.”
Tyler chimed in, “We’re just keeping the fans happy. Plus, Jim’s been great moral support. He hasn’t posted yet, but we’re thinking of letting him take over tomorrow.”
Mark’s exasperation hit peak levels. “If Jim starts posting, I’m officially quitting. Or moving to a cabin with no Wi-Fi. No calls, no texts. Just me and the bears.”
Josh’s laugh echoed again. “You love us, Mark. You know you do.”
Mark rubbed his temples. “I do NOT. I’m trying to convince management to hire a full-time therapist for me.”
Tyler smirked. “Just think of it as emotional cardio.”
Mark’s voice dropped to a whisper: “I need a nap. Or a miracle. Or both.”
Josh winked through the phone. “We got you. Just maybe not today.”
Mark sighed, already anticipating the next round of chaos. His phone buzzed again.
“Send help,” he muttered.
The “LIVE” button glowed red, and Josh hit it with a shy grin, instantly flooded by thousands of eager fans tuning in. Right beside him, Tyler lounged casually, eyes already locked on Josh like he was the sun in the room.
Josh’s oversized hoodie swallowed him whole—the unmistakable Tyler-scented, way-too-big hoodie that Josh had “borrowed” again. He tugged the sleeves nervously, cheeks flushed, barely able to hold back a giggle every time Tyler shot him a look.
“Still wearing my hoodie,” Tyler teased, voice low but full of warmth.
Josh’s grin turned mischievous. “Can’t help it. It’s like a security blanket, but way better.”
Tyler reached over and squeezed Josh’s hand, eyes twinkling with pure love. “I don’t mind. You look cute.”
Josh’s laugh was soft, breathless, and completely infectious. “Well, I’m a fan of you, so maybe it’s contagious.”
The chat exploded:
“HE’S IN THE HOODIE AGAIN OMG ❤️🔥”
“Tyler literally can’t stop staring. I’m screaming.”
“Jim’s side-eyeing the PDA but lowkey loving it.”
“Josh’s giggle should be its own emoji.”
Josh glanced at Tyler, eyes sparkling. “No more hiding. We can be… this.”
Tyler smiled softly. “Yeah, this. All of it.”
Josh leaned into Tyler’s side, snuggling closer inside the massive hoodie. “I’m obsessed with you.”
Tyler’s voice dropped to a whisper. “And I’m obsessed with you.”
They shared a quiet laugh, hands intertwined, love filling every pixel of the screen. The fans? Absolutely losing it.
Josh glanced at the camera with a shy smile. “Thanks for sticking with us, everyone. This is real. This is us.”
Tyler nodded. “And we’re not going anywhere.”
The chat erupted in heart emojis and cheers, a sea of fans witnessing something so genuine, so joyful—and totally hoodie-wrapped in love.
Josh and Tyler are still cuddled up in the giant hoodie—Josh practically drowning in fabric, Tyler’s arm casually draped around him. The cozy, low-key vibe? Totally shattered by the chat blowing up like a fireworks show.
“ARE YOU TWO EVER GOING TO DO A Q&A? I NEED ANSWERS!!”
“HOW DID YOU KEEP THIS A SECRET FOR SO LONG??”
“Who steals whose hoodies more? This is vital info.”
“Jim. Jim. Jim. WHERE IS JIM?!?”
“Can we get wedding deets? Like, who cried first??”
“Tyler cooking live pls, I wanna see Josh’s reaction to burnt food.”
“How many times did you fake not being married in public?? Spill!!”
“😍🥺😭💕🔥🔥🔥”
“What’s your favorite song to slow dance to? Also… who’s the better dancer??”
Josh blinked, smiling sheepishly. “Okay, wow, that’s a lot of questions.”
Tyler laughed, squeezing Josh’s hand. “We love the enthusiasm. Keep ‘em coming.”
Josh cleared his throat, voice a little shy but honest. “We kept it secret mostly because... well, we wanted to. It was our thing. But now? We’re done hiding.”
Tyler nodded. “And to answer the hoodie question? Josh steals mine way more than I steal his.”
Josh giggled. “Guilty.”
“Still waiting on Jim’s cameo, thanks.”
“Jim is probably judging but also lowkey happy.”
Tyler grinned. “Jim’s here. He’s just chilling, waiting for his moment.”
Josh glanced down as Jim the retriever slowly padded into frame, plopped down beside them, tail wagging lazily.
“Hello, internet,” Josh said with a laugh, scratching Jim behind the ears. “He approves.”
The chat went bananas.
“This is pure gold.”
“JIMMMMMM!!!!”
Tyler smirked. “Wedding deets? Well... let’s just say there were tears—from everyone.”
Josh blushed. “I cried so much. Tyler looked gorgeous.”
Tyler chuckled. “I was a mess too.”
Josh looked back at the chat, eyes shining. “We’re thinking of doing a proper Q&A soon—maybe even cooking live, like you guys asked. Warning: I can’t cook.”
Tyler laughed, shaking his head. “Prepare yourselves.”
The fans kept throwing questions, hearts, and memes faster than anyone could keep up.
Josh squeezed Tyler’s hand and whispered, “This? This is the best kind of chaos.”
Tyler nodded, grinning wide. “Let’s never stop.”
Mark was staring at his phone like it owed him money. Seven empty coffee cups later, his hair was officially a disaster zone and he hadn’t seen a coherent thought since the Joshler news dropped.
But then — the moment — management finally gave the green light to post an official statement on the band’s account.
Mark breathed in deeply, prepared for something diplomatic and measured.
Instead, Tyler and Josh had other plans.
The statement popped up:
“We know, we know. The secret’s out. We’re married. No, we did not mean to shock everyone. Yes, Jim is very involved in the marriage negotiations (he demands belly rubs).”
“Thanks for your patience while we all caught up to this news — especially Mark, who is currently hiding under a pile of coffee cups and unanswered emails.”
“In short: we’re married, we love each other, and yes, the hoodie theft is still ongoing. We promise not to flood your feeds too much… but no promises on the pancakes.”
“Much love and chaos,
Josh, Tyler, Jim (the real MVP), and the ever-suffering Mark.”
Mark stared at the screen, jaw slack.
“Are you kidding me,” he muttered.
Mark’s phone buzzed nonstop as fan reactions poured in:
“OFFICIAL STATEMENT = ICONIC.”
“Can we get a cooking tutorial next? Preferably not from Josh.”
“Poor Mark deserves a medal and a vacation.”
Mark sighed, rubbing his face. “Send help. Or at least more coffee.”
The living room was wrapped in a gentle, golden glow from the dimmed lamps and the flickering light of the TV. Soft music hummed from the speakers as Jim, ever the loyal sidekick, nestled comfortably between Josh and Tyler’s legs, his head resting on Tyler’s shoe.
Josh was practically curled into Tyler’s lap, his head resting against Tyler’s chest, fingers intertwined with his. Tyler’s arms wrapped around Josh’s shoulders like a shield, holding him close with a tenderness that made Josh’s cheeks flush with warmth.
Neither said much; the quiet was comfortable, filled with the kind of peace that only comes from being exactly where you belong.
Josh pulled out his phone and, with a soft smile, snapped a quick selfie — his face pressed gently against Tyler’s, both illuminated by the soft blue light of the TV screen. Jim poked his head into the frame, tongue lolling, perfectly photobombing the moment.
With a tiny laugh, Josh captioned the photo:
“he’s a great pillow”
He hit “Post,” and the flood of heart emojis, “crying in the club” and “FUCK” comments exploded almost instantly.
Tyler kissed the top of Josh’s head, whispering, “Perfect.”
Josh smiled up at him, eyes shining. “Yeah. Perfect.”
Jim gave a sleepy woof, as if to agree.
And in that quiet, glowing room, everything felt just right.