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neverheardnothing · 2 years ago

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Album + Iconis & Family concert breakdown/review

I wanted to consolidate my thoughts on Album after having enough time to digest the songs and their recorded versions. Here’s my track by track breakdown no one asked for. Warning, it’s a long one.

Album

A bit navel gaze-y, she types for her Iconis dedicated blog while wearing her Iconis and Family t-shirt she got on a trip she spent way too much money on entirely to see Joe, lol. On my generous days I’ll say I think he deserves it though, and then on my hater days I’m rolling my eyes. It’s very Joe, a sprawling mess of a too long song, it’s just that it’s too much about him as a person in a way that doesn’t excite me. Not to say I think Joe is boring but I don’t think it was written in a way that appeals to me. By itself, it’s mostly a skip because of sheer length, it isn't all that good/exciting of a song, and Joe isn’t the best singer. I think I like his live performances more because on professionally recorded it sounds just good enough that it’s in an uncanny valley between the rawness and messiness that live allows and which Joe does well in and the cleanness of recorded. I do enjoy the family coming in at the end as well as the little references to other songs of his littered throughout. That’s the main redeemable part of the song. Well, the music is nice but that’s usually a given. The ever so slight echo-y haunting quality is great. But not enough that I’m going to ever listen to it enough to remember the words and the order of the call and response at the end.

Best memory of the song was on the Saturday Iconis and Family Album release concert at 54 Below where within the first verse, Joe forgot the lyrics and had to start over.

The Answer

Interesting singer pick for the song. Yeah, Joe says that not one person is on Album solely for their name but, well, some people are clearly here at least partially because of it. Not discounting his performance at all, it’s very good. Just doesn’t stand out from the many other versions of this song that are out there. I haven’t seen Aaron Tveit in enough to be able to judge his acting in general, but everything in his version felt stock, standard, safe. It was very impressive vocally and sounds really good but this is a teenager having a breakdown about his life path, and it doesn’t quite sound like that. Again, it’s good but it’s like he didn’t put his stink on the song which is what I’m looking for when I hear new performances of a song other people have done.

Ammonia

Charlie R once said something of the sort that hearing a song fully/with new orchestrations for the first time is like only looking at line art for so long and then seeing a colored image. Yeah. Man, yeah.

All the other performances of Ammonia have cut that one verse since Heidi did it and I’m glad it’s back. I could and have spent hours listening to this version. The ominous bass was an obvious choice for orchestration but that doesn’t make it any less good when you hear it. I’m always a big slut for strings so hearing those spiccato high notes is great. The strings in general make this song feel so expansive. It sounds like the freedom of an empty house, taking up more space than there is physically. It’s loud and sweeping and epic in the exact way this song and the story told in it deserves. Fuck. I love Ammonia.

Heidi deserves awards for her performance in this song. Also I can’t believe it was one of the songs released early, I was thinking we would have to wait till the entire thing came out to hear this monster of a song, but no it was just out there. It forced me to listen to this one hours on repeat because nothing else was out (except for Kevin) and you’d think the song would be diminished on that many repeat listenings but yet during each one my mind was still fucking blown by how good it was.

Archie's All-American

The energy of this song is fucking infectious. At the concert, we went straight from Album into this song and the instant head boppin’ energy was palpable from within a second of the instrumental starting up. EWM was fucking great on this song in person and I’ll be honest I think I like that more than ABF’s version on the Album, though maybe I’m biased because I just really like EWM’s voice. Not to say that the Album version isn’t good, but I think the instrumental mix didn’t go as hard as it did in person (drums really gave it that extra oomph). ABF does bring a youthful energy to his version that’s very nice and fitting of the song. Speaking of ABF, apparently he did a demo version of Kaboom and I would kill a man for it. God, this song just makes you want to fucking dance.

Lydia's Song

I know absolutely nothing about Beetlejuice but Lauren doing this song is always such a weird goddamn delight. Lyrically, this song isn't my favorite but the music and performance Lauren consistently gives is unparalleled. I know it’s called acting, but her mood when she was singing this song in person was so dour I actually got fooled into thinking she wasn’t happy to be there briefly. Also, strings. The deep, sparingly used drum beats. They add so much to the atmosphere of this song. Fucking superb, Charlie.

The Protector

Joe, tell me what this song means you bastard. I know you saw my Reddit AMA comment because you acknowledged it when answering the other one!! Todd Solondz’s Happiness apparently helped inspire this song which means I have to go watch it at some point. This song wasn’t one of my regular listens before Album because it was so confusing but lately I’ve been thinking about it a lot.

I know I’m overusing this word and I’ll use it several more times before we’re through with this breakdown, but the music of this song is so fucking haunting and beautiful. The dissonant chords. The deep piano. The journey you go on with this song. First listen you think it’s an extended joke with the “in Florida” punchline but on repeat listens it starts to be more than that. The music and lyrics are both a bit too chilling. To me, this song has always been about a father, too beaten down by life and haunted by the past, to trust his son with his own safety, but that feels pretty surface level after you get past the Florida joke reading, though I do think my readings of songs tend to stay pretty surface level. I’ll be wondering what else I’m missing for a long time.

Another overused term, this song is a liminal space. It’s distant shores. It’s snowy fields of white. It’s record stores. It’s suburbs bathed in white. It’s too-real conversations that can only happen in kitchens late at night and are never accessible again, but have changed you and your understanding of the other person forever. I have no fucking clue what the Florida bit is supposed to mean, even still.

Maybe the placement of this song on Album, sandwiched between Lydia’s Song and Kevin, will provide further clues but for now the mystery of The Protector remains unsolved.

Kevin

I didn’t realize Andrew R was as popular as he was but I guess considering the 81k streams on this song at time of writing (second most popular being the title song at 13k), he brings in the listeners. I admit I’m more partial to Jeremy M’s version of the song. I think he fits in the character more and makes bolder decisions, but he doesn’t sit as well with the music. Andrew plays it very straight, sarcastic, and vitriolic while Jeremy’s is a bit more flighty and wondrous. I haven’t checked to confirm but it feels like the tempo is slowed a bit for the middle of the song which I’m pretty ok with on this track. His delivery on “I mean you didn’t even live here then so it wasn’t really a thing for you” is so good. You can taste the contempt. The police sirens are a golden touch. I can see it in my head, him stone faced, nonchalantly walking opposite past police cars racing towards the scene.

Another person who is probably on here at least partially because of the name, but I’m ok with it because he kills it (literally) on this track. Finished typing this and just remembered his numerous Broadway credits, yeah he’s popular lol.

Jeff

My disappointment is immeasurable and my day is ruined and you know exactly why. The goddamn lyric change. Changing “naked Korean girl” to “naked caucasian girl” makes the song instantly lose 1/3rd (literally a third, her 3 traits are: naked, Korean, and girl) of its meaning because at least for my reading, the fetishization of the exoticness of the east is baked into the song. I know everyone’s gonna be like IT’S NOT THAT DEEP and that’s fine, I’m still gonna rant here. The whole point of the song is that Jeff is looking to this person who he thinks is the complete opposite of him, of which the Korean part is intentionally drawing upon the long history of painting the east as foreign and other, and wishing to be like her.

The specific change to caucasian seems like such a weird one, too. Who SAYS caucasian? To my knowledge, no one is out here saying “I’m caucasian” in the way people say “I’m white/Korean/Black/etc.” I get why Joe changed it because if I were a white man I wouldn’t be writing a song like that, but well, he did, and I liked it the way it was.

Maybe it wasn’t intended to be read that way and Joe just needed a nationality that would fit with that number of syllables, but he wrote Korean originally and that’s how the song was popularized and now that meaning is part of the song, death of the author etc. Just like it’d be pretty impossible to change Just Means or Nerd Love to be less uncomfortable/offensive without changing the DNA of the song, you can’t change Jeff, even if on the surface the issue seems restricted to one word. Changing it seems both cowardly AND neuters the song. I would love to talk to Joe about this and why he changed it but that doesn’t ever seem likely to happen. Final take, it should’ve stayed as “Korean.”

Also, I don’t know how much I jive with the trans interpretation of this song. Yeah, we’re going even further down this rabbit hole. The original lyric of Korean makes me instantly think of the way white men specifically fetishize Asian women, especially in film and porn, in a way that’s so cishet and about the white male/Asian female (forgive my use of the term I promise I’m not going mrasian on you) interaction and yellow fever that it’s hard for me to see past it as anything other than fetishization. I don’t think Joe was intentionally writing about any of this other than to use Korean as a shortcut catch-all for Asian exoticness to highlight the otherness from Jeff’s experience. Even some lyrics within the song push back on the more sexual parts of this interpretation (“I don’t want her to think that I’m some perv on some voyeuristic trip” “I promise I’m not looking out of carnal frustration”) but then come the first “oh” part of the song where I take it to mean he’s deriving some sort of pleasure, sexual or not, from this, so who knows how reliable of a narrator Jeff is, though I do tend to take his word on it when he says it’s nonsexual. Not to say that it can’t be fetishistic without it being sexual. Nor that this and the trans reading of the song are exclusive, just that the former is what is overpoweringly what I think of when I hear this song.

Ok, we’re done with the it’s not that deep section.

With that out of the way, Jeremy is fucking great. He plays both the humor and the complexities of this song so fucking well. I love the very specifically chosen grammar incongruity in the line “a couple couples see me fall all over but none of them cares.” It’s subtle enough that you might miss it at first or think that the singer messed up the lyrics but it’s consistent throughout different people singing this song and you realize it’s supposed to convey Jeff’s drunken state. Such a small detail. I fucking love it. Jeremy’s delivery also changes a bit. You can hear the swallows and the slight lag in speech. I can feel his fantasy shatter and reality come crashing back in when he says “myself just staring back at me.” The ever so slight hint of bitterness in his voice when he says “your life will be the same.” It’s so subtle and so good. Man, Jeremy’s performance on this song is unparalleled and it’s a shame this version is ruined by the lyric change. I love this song so much despite how sinister it feels to me. It really is a masterful combo of music, lyrics, and performance.

BUT I AM NOT THE SAME!!!!!!!!!!!

Remember when people shipped Kevin and Jeff? Wild times and I never really understood why. Okay, I do in that they’re both named sadboi characters whose songs have a surprising life and death twist, but on a deeper level I don’t think these characters have anything that would make them compatible. At the core, their characters are based on apathy and self-hatred respectively and what about those two things go well together I’m lost on. It does make for good vibes and aesthetics I guess.

Using Joe lyrics to talk about different Joe songs. “I think about the legacy and all those who came before.” Guess all his street number songs are obviously going to be about history and legacy. The cyclic nature of inspiration. The deconstruction of the rose tinted glasses we see the past through. Alan is so good on this track it makes me almost angry. Slight growl on “drink at McHale’s.” His voice is so smooth. The new orchestrations for this song are so pretty and definitely on the subtler side. Touch of strings, brass, and drums that gives it some extra color but still mainly piano and guitar like in the live version. I love the not quite synchronization on the delivery of “good lord, nostalgia’s so complex!” Also just having 3 people who can really fucking sing on this tracks brings so much life to it.

Play the Princess

Much in the way I think Hosing The Furniture woman and Ammonia woman should leave their husbands and get together, I think the two women in Play The Princess should kiss about it. I think they kinda swapped out a jazzy style for a more country vibe. I can believe this version of the song happens in the backstage of Bloodsong. I do admit I really miss Katrina’s voice on this track, I don’t think L Morgan and Destinee’s voices go as well together. Like they talked about on the podcast, they both seem sorta type-less, but L Morgan sells the princess type a lot more than Destinee does the tough type. Or maybe I’m just too used to hearing Katrina’s powerful voice on this song. Overall, I just don’t think Destinee gave a good performance. Like at 3:40 you can hear her just fade out and it’s only L Morgan singing. What the hell is that? Maybe a lack of communication from having recorded separately? Whatever it is, this track turned out to be pretty disappointing and it was one of the ones I was most looking forward to when the tracklist was announced.

On one hand, I guess it says something about how these women perceive themselves to be that type and mentally put themselves in those boxes when in actuality they don’t come across as it and that they have much more in common than they give themselves credit for, but on the other hand they’re both just sorta same-y and the lack of contrast doesn’t excite me.

The Actress

All the Obie awards to this performance. This song is so Katrina’s that I literally cannot imagine anyone else doing it. I love the new zombie-like “yaaas queen.” It’s my exact reaction to her singing like this and that’s exactly why that line is in there. I love how you need to have that loud and high voice the song talks about to pull it off, but she also retains so much of her uniqueness in her performance that the song talks about throwing away. Also, god this song is so fucking bonkers. Just so classic Joe. The seven minute insane character story epic. This type of song is what I think of when I think of a Joe composition. For translation from live to studio, no complaints. Pretty much a replica and it works very well.

The Song

This fucking song makes me want to hide under sheets and never come out again. This is not the song I should feel called out by the amount of raw fucking lines that make me feel way too seen, but yet here we are. Songs to make my future therapist listen to for sure. Insert Gordon Ramsay’s it’s fucking raw.jpg here.

This along with the next song on Album is of those songs by Joe where you go “oh this is about him” to “oh it’s actually only about him in the same way that all the songs he writes are about him, but he uses the context of his real person to make it seem like it’s only about him on surface level reading.” Brilliance. That’s also why I have trouble believing that it’s solely based on any relationship in Joe’s real life. Sure, he probably drew inspiration, but I doubt this is anything close to a one to one recount of what happened in his life. Off topic, but it feels the same as when people think A Strange Loop is autobiographical for Michael R. Jackson. Yes they drew varying levels of inspiration from their own lives but it’s clearly about a character and not themselves.

Sometimes I lean towards maybe The Song could be about a real life relationship with the introduction he gives it (can only be sung when a certain someone doesn’t come to the concert), but I always wonder how true that is. I used to take it at face value but lately I've been thinking about the bits he's done in the past in between songs that aren't true so now we're back where we started. The introduction could be part of the performance. Then I also remember how Joe's material never is surface level about him, they're all done through characters, slightly more apparent in All The Mistakes than in this song, which makes me even more sure that this song is also about a character. Am I overthinking this? I'm probably overthinking this.

This is the song on the album that should have an intro, not fucking Muthers. I want that intro on here to fuck with people’s heads even more.

All the Mistakes That He Made About the Girl

Sad to say that it's not as rockin’ and angry as in the live videos. Unfortunately that’s a complaint about almost every single song on here but y’know, only so much you can do when translating live to studio. I feel like Joe just isn’t slamming on the keys as hard as he can like this song deserves. The electric guitar and drums helps but also Joe just doesn’t sound as aggressive as he does in other performances. I think there’s a slight synthetic effect on Joe’s voice throughout the song? Or maybe not, but definitely at “he’ll be back where he started” it’s very audible and I enjoy that a lot. I’m also liking the electric guitar arpeggios. Also once again, a sucker for strings.

I love that in a way this song is the opposite of The Actress in that while they both talk about how well the performer can sing, The Actress actually calls for that performance while this song is exclusively performed by Joe and anyone can admit he’s not the greatest singer.

Yesterdays / I Can't Relate

I’m so conflicted because I love the version Jared did at the Lincoln Center and the higher chorus a lot and yet Jason V’s voice is so deep and soothing and I think it fits song better. I could easily see this song on some indie artist’s 5 track EP. Both Jason T and Jared start off with like a weariness in their acting but Jared moves into almost reproachfulness by the end while Jason T stays mostly weary. Love both vibes. I do miss synthy piano, it evoked like an 80s sorta feel. This song so melancholy that I don’t listen to it that much but it really pulls off the vibes it’s going for. Old man too confused and tired to yell at clouds.

Building a Fort

I like this song only so far as it’s a good character song. I don’t really care for it musically or lyrically. One line that always throws me is “I’m not answering your email, I’m throwing out my phone” because I always feel like this song is a spiritual brother to Albuquerque Anyway. It seems very much from the POV of a child so having a phone and email to check seems so strange. Do children check emails? I really don’t think it could be an adult with the way the music is and the rest of the language of the song. If it is that sure would be weird. Anyway the song is cutesy but not for me most days. I love that the backup vocals though are also (as far as I can tell) all by himself alone.

Haddonfield, 15 Years Later (For Judith)

COME ON HOME!!!!!!! During the very first listen I was sort of concerned by how low energy it was but then it kicked into high gear and every single fear was assuaged. Jared fucking kills it so goddamn hard (sidenote: I’ve been re-listening to Isolated Thunderstorms and Elusive Particle is such a fucking jam). I like breakdown laughter a lot since now it isn't a solo song and he doesn't have to Carry the entire thing but also man, do miss those High Notes. The choir arrangements are so fucking fantastic I need to give Joel my life. I want to hear just the vocal tracks on this song. The arrangement and amount of people singing also really helps with the volume and energy. Love the drop out on the lyrics (same thing as in MITB). In the Sunday performance, Jared did a little inhale like he was gonna start singing before stepping away from the mic. God tier. Platonic hand in marriage to that acting choice. Jared so consistently brings like 200% to performances I really want to see him in a full length Joe musical one day. Oh, also time to admit I haven't seen Halloween.

Sympathy for the Killer

Not one of my regular listens before Album but Liz does so good on this song that she and the song are growing on me actually. Previously I had only really thought of her doing Velociraptor but she killed so hard on this song (or rather was killed) both acting and singing-wise (sidenote: definitely gonna be keeping an eye out on White Girl In Danger). As a song itself, it’s not my favorite, but it’s short enough, Liz gives a good enough performance, and the production is fun enough that I’ll listen to it most of the time. I love the dissonant piano, the laughing, the sighs. Fun fact it’s also the second shortest song on Album (behind Slide Whistle). A Joe song less than 3 minutes long is a rare, rare thing.

Helen Sharp

Previously a “Joe sings this so there’s a layer of extra irony/meaning” song but literally anything lost from Joe performing it is instantly made up for one hundredfold with Lorinda’s performance. Are you fucking kidding me?!?! I am literally fucking speechless. I don’t have words to describe how good she is on this. Charlie’s work on the song also helps elevate it to a new fucking level. I love the at times creeping and other grandiose strings, along with the brass (what is that, a tuba?) that joins in right at the end. It helps expand the world of the song so much. I truly know nothing about the movie Death Becomes Her but I can imagine this version of Helen Sharp actually doing something, anything, about Madeline. Meanwhile, Joe’s version is also angry and bitter, but seemed more content to just bitch about it, and the orchestrations definitely help with that difference. I love the venom in Lorinda’s voice at “everything you wanted for yourself” but honestly I could pick 10 different deliveries to put in there and they’d all be true. I love Lauren being so audible in that first shout of “Madeline” when more people join in. I love the scream. I love the whisper of “Madeline” at the end.

When the YT release of the Lincoln Center performance happened, Lauren posted a picture of this song happening on her insta story captioned with something along the lines of “if only you could hear the names Joe is shouting in our living room right now” and I would kill to be a fly in that living room wall right then. I mean I think we can all guess the names but it’d still be fun to hear.

The Nurse and the Addict

Heard that one version of Joe singing it at the MTF so many times that my brain leaves in the flub he did and not hearing it on this version always throws me for a loop momentarily. The typewriter clack noises are brilliant and so, so fun. My platonic hand in marriage to whoever thought of it. Probably Charlie. I love that editing gets us the complete dead silence for after "pull away a bit" to the point where someone thought the song stopped playing. It’s so jarring. This track is one of the best live to studio translations on Album. All the new additions to the instrumentation are so good. Taylor’s voice has this sort of innocence and optimism to it that makes the relationship in the song feel even more unbalanced. When he just straight up starts screaming at the end it even sounds melodic.

Out Of Sight / Out Of Mind

Rip “(The Buddy Song)” lol. A song that got that the banjo/country orchestration which I don’t know if I enjoy on this song as much. This is mostly a skip unfortunately, not even the strings can save it. Well, there is one part I very much enjoy which is the slow part at the 4 minute mark. That “and not care all about me like how I care all about you” reminds me instantly of Krysta singing Adore. I think if we cut a minute or so out of it I’d be more inclined to listened to it. I enjoy the lyrical contents and theme of the song a lot but musically it’s just not my thing and the style on Album isn’t helping. Krysta does a good job on the song though. Not that I would trade it for Jared’s version but I do want to hear her do Haddonfield with the new choir arrangements.

The Saddest Girl in the World

Liz did this song live at the concerts and I enjoyed it then but otherwise it’s a skip. On the Saturday performance on her way up to the stage she stopped by a friend of mine’s table during the “he don’t have to be of age” line and said hi to him, which killed me. Otherwise, I don’t enjoy pretty much anything about this song. Not the music nor the lyrics. Not really sure why there was what amounted to a pointless lyric change. I don’t think Kerry did the best on this song. Really I don’t have much to say about this song. The only way I can really enjoy this song is solely as a snapshot of a character like Just Means. Wish this had been replaced by one of the songs on my missed list. Definitely a skip.

Norman

This version elevated Norman from a skip. It’s because of the strings. I’m always a sucker for violin no matter the situation. The very slow run right before 2 minutes in is so lovely. The contrast between the elegance of the violin and the lyrics and mood of the song is so stark and I love it. The staccato. The anger and volume and scream behind “I wish we were.” The stutter. The numerous girls in the background laughing and talking and calling his name. I definitely picked out Lauren’s distinctive voice. Haven’t seen Psycho but this performance seemed much more of a character than other ones I’ve seen. I am also always just constantly blown away by how new orchestrations can make it feel like you’re hearing a song for the first time. Thanks Charlie for literally my entire life.

(Run Away from You)

It regrettably does not go as hard as that one version of Joe at Two River which is my all time favorite which is unfortunate. I love the slight distortion/electronic effect on Jason’s voice during “girl I swear with all my werewolf heart” as well the crunchy electric guitar throughout. The “hide behind the bushes” etc part just does not have the level of intensity as it needs to make the song really work. It needs to build to frenetic levels and leave you feeling like you’re stalking down the street right alongside him but instead I feel like it didn’t go anywhere and I fell asleep inside the bush. I miss the werewolf breathing sounds. I’m wondering if Jason wasn’t feeling well or something when recording because this is not as good as it could’ve been. There are videos of him doing better. I think I’m being a bit overly harsh on this, it’s honestly not that bad and nowhere near the worst live to studio adaptation on this album, it’s just that I know it could be a lot better so I’m disappointed.

The Prisoner's Christmas Song

Not one of my regular listens before Album. I don’t think I care much for the song in particular but Grace gives such a performance and musically it fucks severely. Honestly just copy paste my exact feelings on Sympathy For The Killer. I am a huge sucker for a lot of growl in voices when singing so generally have a very fun time listening to it.

Right Place / Wrong Time

Yee fuckin’ haw. Legendary goddamn song. Maybe thee Joe Iconis of all time? It has all the major qualities: a story with a twist, vivid misfit characters, so fucking long, the struggle of being an artist, obsession with the past, repeating chorus, nonsense syllables. Yeah, this is thee Joe Iconis song of all time. I like that one of Katrina’s lines is “tell me my singing’s out of style” when she’s talked about how her style is actually what’s hot right now but it wasn’t when she started.

I miss the piano sirens, they’re a lot more subtle here. Not much to say about this one, just a very solid recording of what’s done live and I appreciate it.

Sometimes I think to myself “why is Joe so hung up on Broadway” and wanting his shows to play there. I had a conversation with a friend around when LIHN was happening at Two River where I was saying it’d sure be something if Revolution Song one day played at the Tony Awards. They said they’d rather the institution actually be torn down and at the time I couldn’t quite articulate why I didn’t think Joe would ever want that. Well, this song is why. For better or worse, he much too much respects the legacy and meaning of Broadway. He considers himself a pretty traditional guy, not trying to break new ground, be witty/impressive/insincere etc. He too desperate to make it within the place he loves to ever do anything else.

I don’t know why there’s a single soft clap/snap along the middle of the track. It seems like it’d much more belong in an a capella version of this song. It’s pretty clearly intentionally added because it cuts out eventually but it seems a bit too soft and the rest of the song is overproduced so that it doesn’t add much to the song and it just feels a bit like a distraction. Not that the song was overproduced, I just think it was past the level of being able to add a clap track along it. I actually like the level of production and new instrumentation.

Admittedly, I’m not much one for history. That’s one of the topics Joe talks about a lot that least resonates with me. I love that as time goes on, fewer and fewer people will know what this song is talking about without looking it up. I know I had to. I’m the people who don’t understand how much they meant, but this song gives me a small window into the mindset of people who care. It makes me care more than I did before.

A Guy That I'd Kinda Be Into

A surprise, to be sure, but a welcome one. I liked the live versions of this cover a lot in the past when I heard them but I wasn’t expecting it to make it onto Album. It’s weird to hear this song without the backing vocals and dialogue. It’s sweet that the last line is changed so it’s a pure-ish love song and it also subverts expectations like this song originally did. Guess we’re in covers/cabaret versions of songs from full shows section of the album.

Joey Is a Punk Rocker

Another one that wasn’t one of my regular listens and that I only enjoy as a character song. For both this and the last track, I really do like that the people singing are so different from the character that usually sings it in the show. In general, I really enjoy Annie’s voice and how full of character it is. The one section of the song I do have to admit I enjoy is the line “that his nipples were pierced but his heart was too.” Banger fucking line. Also the hilarity of Joe writing the line “I’m in love with a punk rocker named Joe” has not worn off for me.

Social Worker

Now this is a bonkers version of Social Worker. Immediately the synth is like whoa, what the fuck. I love the increasing echo effect on Nick’s voice during the panic attack section of the song. I enjoy it just as a listen but I’m really curious as to why they decided to go down a synth route for this song. Seems weird and I don’t know if I tonally agree with that choice, but I also don’t really disagree? Just want to know why they did it. Also, low-key I think Nick could’ve done better on this track. Like it was very good but I think the instrumental was definitely carrying.

I Was a Teenage Delinquent!

MAYBE THE GREATEST THING THAT HAS EVER GRACED MY EARS??? I think within the first goddamn second I had my tiny little fucking mind blown. This song and the fullness of the orchestrations makes me want to scale several stories of brick wall so I can scream from rooftops “I FELL IN LOVE IN JUVIE HALL!!!!!!!!!” I truly mean it when I say I love how bad, overdramatic, and trashy this song is. She’s writing on bathroom walls in lipstick! She’s romanticizing her suicide scars! She’s falling in love in anger therapy! I love the incongruity of the line “I am a teenage ne'er-do-well” like a teenager would ever, ever say that. Well, maybe they did in the 60s. I love the brief saxophone bit while they almost kiss. I also love that they cut like the 30 seconds of dead time. This song is such a violent, cheesy, goddamn banger. As always I’m in love with the uniqueness of Lauren’s voice and performance. I can’t believe that LIHN came from this. It would be interesting and fun to hear Amina and Kelly do this as a one off but I’m glad it was Lauren and Molly, I want Amina and Kelly’s rendition of I Fell In Love In Juvie Hall to remain a sacred, earnest, triumphant gay love jam.

(Do) the Slide Whistle!

What the hell is this. Why did they go all out on this song. I don’t know the story behind this song. I don’t think it would help even if I did. It’s catchy, I’ll give them that. Who the hell are Suzie and Jenny and [Turp?], what is this song? All around confusion.

Muthers R Speshel (Wen Yer Sad)

I guess they lined up Slide Whistle and this one next to each other so I could double slam on the skip button. The nicest thing I can say about this song is that at rare points it’s charming and heartwarming. Another case of “well... some people are here at least partially because of their name.” It is not like LMM has been out here at concerts doing Joe’s songs.

My Best Friend's a Skeleton

Jeremy is delightful as the skeleton as always. I wonder if the skeleton jumpsuit he wore in the 2013 video is the same one in the 2022 shows. I think I enjoy Lance’s version more but they’re really incomparable since that one was live and George’s was a studio recording. Lance is just. Such a silly guy lol. Don’t know which I like more, the “I cannot wait for you to pass” in the live version of George or the “that’s gross why would you say that” but really just all the awards for Jeremy. For the Album version, it’s another one that got that sorta banjo/country twang in the orchestrations which I’m enjoying on this version of the song, but honestly overall it’s a skip. It’s the sort of song that lives on the banter they have between verses so it’s best in a live recording. Makes me wish they swapped this song out for something like Blue Hair.

Velociraptor

A real win for my media comprehension skills that this song is next to Him Today, Gone Tomorrow. I was like “yessss” when I saw it when the tracklist came out. It makes the skull line very weird but with an extra layer of meaning I guess.

I love the sort of what I can only describe as elevator-style music. It gives the song a very modern, cosmopolitan feel. I can easily imagine this as an anonymous woman lost in the size of NYC. I love how bold the guitar noise is after the “there’s a dinosaur” noise. It kind of sounds like it’s supposed to be a dinosaur roar. I love the line “where the species intertwine” because suddenly that line feels like it implies everyone on the street is a different species instead of nondistinct/normal/human like I was imagining them before. Everyone sees themselves as an animal in a city of humans but really they’re all their own kind of weird and Velociraptor is just looking for people who are weird in the same way as her. I don’t usually think about this but this song really is similar to Right Place/Wrong Time.

Also I have absolutely no memory of where I heard about this but once Liz said that she was complaining to Joe about feeling tired of singing generic songs about people feeling out of place and then he wrote this for her haha. Liz consistently kills it in an under-appreciated way, very much hoping she’s in the official White Girl In Danger cast next year so we can see/hear her in something.

Him Today, Gone Tomorrow

Not as much of a banger as it is in the live performances. Unfortunately nothing about this performance of this song is that good. A combo of audio mixing, instrumentation, and vocals all make this song not live up to its potential. There’s a real variance and buildup of energy in the live version but in this one it’s all mostly samey. I don’t like the addition of background vocals, it’s not loud enough to actively contribute to making the song better and in fact it feels like it helped make this a more lulled song this version. I do prefer the emotion and acting in the vocal performance for this version though.

I love the “she” transitioning from sounding like a tentative question to a celebration with many exclamation points after it. I want to see Manifest Pussy in full. I always wonder if there’s more context for this song that I’m missing.

Starting to Forget

Not one of my regular listens before Album. I actually used to think that this song was about a woman walking the line between still missing and starting to forget their abusive ex and healing, and I thought that for longer than I care to admit. I think it was only when I went to transcribe the lyrics to this song a few months ago that I finally really started paying attention to exactly what was being said and I realized how incredibly sad it was. Then even more recently I found out it’s about Joe and his grandfather. But you know what I still somewhat stand by my reading of this being about one person’s complicated journey moving on from their ex-lover. It could work.

I love Badia’s voice on this so much. It’s also interesting because on the Album podcast, they said they recorded all the band stuff first, but this track sounds very singer lead with the liberties taken with tempo. It sounds like a song that requires the accompaniment to come after or be live with the singing, but apparently that’s not what happened so props to them for making it sound like that’s what happened.

Also shout out to this song for apparently being able to always bring a tear to Michael R Jackson's eye.

Tightrope Walker / Mountain Climber / Me

So Joe has this old song called Tightrope Walker but I’ve never heard it. I have to imagine this song is a reworking/expansion of that other song and it makes me really curious to hear what the old version was. Regardless, new Joe Iconis song!!! [Has a life crisis].

This song is so interesting and I’m still trying to figure it out. The latter half captures the feeling of being an observer in your own life, the detachment and distraction of living in our social media age, and the ease at which we can compare ourself to others now. However, I don’t understand why the tightrope walker and mountain climber bits exist. To draw comparison to the “me” bit, but is it saying that they’re more similar or different than one would expect? Or neither? Is it saying that the career of an artist is in some ways comparable and as dangerous as tightrope walking/mountain climbing? The biggest hint is the some people are fueled by terror/praise meanwhile I live vicariously through others line. Do they exist only to lay down examples of other’s accomplishments that the starving artist feels they’ll never have their own version of? The song is a lot about what motivates people and I guess the artist’s lack thereof? Or maybe they do have motivation but it’s slowly been eroded over time by not reaching their goals while everyone else seems to be. Still, I don’t understand why. And then it also gets meta with the “I hate my vocals on this song” so then it’s implying that the starving artist wrote and is performing this song. I don’t know what any of this means! Would love to hear what other people think of this song. Can’t wait for the podcast episode of this song.

Since Joe almost never shares his lyrics verbatim I think I’ll be wondering forever if the “and days and days etc” part eventually ends on “and daze” because I love a good homonym. Would be cool if it did.

I love Molly H and her voice so much. I also really want to hear Lauren do this song. I think her voice lends to the style a lot. I love how casual this song sounds, very fittingly for the message of the song. In the Sunday live performance of this song it went heavy on some sort of synth-y rock guitar and there were also backing vocals. It was weird.

Flesh and Bone (The Robot's Song)

I'm sorry. What the fuck? It's like they decided to suck literally all of the energy out of this song during the recording. And I know Jason can go hard on this song, I've seen it before. So what the fuck. It started out a bit more low energy than I was expecting but I was expecting it to pick up but then it never did and we got to the nanas at the end and I was so disappointed. I just checked and it’s literally 10 bpm slower than live versions. I’m back again wondering if Jason got sick or something because this was not it. His voice sounded a bit off, like it was more tired/weaker. I’m just am in shock at how bad they ruined this song. Like how did this happen. This is one of Charlie’s favorite songs so like, how did he listen to this and think “yeah that’s good.”

The string pizzicato was nice but I’m still not sure how I feel about it in this song specifically. I miss the versions where the guitar in the background plucks an alarm going off/warning signal of low battery. The wind and rust sound effects were also lame as hell in this version, and by lame I mean almost nonexistent. I very much prefer versions where they do something outsized and wacky. Overall, I don’t know why you would choose to listen to the worse version of this song out there.

Party Hat

The new interjections are so fun and I love it. I think my favorite is “you are quite something” and “that’s what my therapist says!” It reminds me of Lauren’s Our Show. Also love the funky lil banjo and melodica. Thank god they kept the kazoo. This song is almost good enough for me to forgive EWM for making smacking lips noises right in my ear. Honestly I don’t have all that much to say about this song. Good song, good recording. Okay, I’ve been trying to find a way to word this without sounding weird but there is no good way. I want EWM to be my cat. No elaboration. You either get me or you don’t.

Amphibian

About to say something sacrilegious. I only like Amphibian an okay amount and it definitely is one of those songs whose charm lies in live performance, though this track translated pretty well from live to studio. I think they’re also aware of this so starting it off way more cutesy helped. Also that the ensemble choir was made up of so many people was great. On some tracks you can tell the ensemble had less people and as a result felt much less full. It’s very cute that Lance joined in for a duet. Double Natos! Shamefully, I thought it was Joe the first few listens until Al told me otherwise. I like the crowd/general chatter noise at the end with very low ribbits that then transitions straight into It’s All Good.

The Amphibian on Sunday when Will was out with COVID was by far my favorite performance of this song, ever. Amara was so good at the beginning that I want an entire version of her and John’s energy was so innocent and quickly turned rockin’ that I am obsessed.

It's All Good

I feel like the audio mixing could’ve been better on the ambient crowd/chatter noise to not have it cut out as abruptly? It felt a bit jarring. Regardless, I like it. It creates a feeling of a live performance where people just get up and go to the mic that fits well with the content of the song. Not one of my favorite songs of Joe’s, but it’s so nice to have the boys from the 08 cast all singing together on this and their voices mesh very nicely together. It also sounds like they recorded together to match up the vocals or at least they did a much better job of it here than some other tracks.

Find the Bastard

I have to fucking talk about this shit. After the Saturday concert, the performers were talking to audience members outside and I had a short conversation with EWM where I told him how much I loved BSOL. He ribbed me a bit about being 12 when the original production happened, which is totally fair, and I thought that would be the end of that interaction. But he remembered because the next night during this song, right after the first “what’s your name, what’s your name,” (I guess I shouted loud enough that he noticed me) he made eye contact and pointed to me in the audience briefly as he sang. I am still replaying this moment in my mind. And also physically replaying it on the vid I took lol. Literally the amount of joy that those brief seconds have brought me is immeasurable. Months later just listening to this song is still a free happiness machine.

Last on Land Whomst? This is my new favorite, no I'm not biased at all (ok but can you blame me after what happened). I guess I should talk about the actual song now.

Ok, on the Album version right at the beginning of the instrumental after the very first measure (0:03-0:04), the guitarist accidentally plucks another string when changing fingerings and it bother me to no end. Can you tell I’ve been listening to this song on eardrum shattering volumes? Other than that, almost 0 complaints. The snake rattle effect sends chills through me. I like that there’s clearly a lot of people in the mix for the ensemble part but you can hear Jason ST and Katrina distinctively in the mix. I love the new brass. It fits so well. Loud and brash just like the show. Speaking of the brass, I’m in love with the drawn out instrumental crescendo right before “they done me wrong.”

AND FROM NOW ON, WHEN THEY ASK MY NAME (WHAT’S YOUR NAME, WHAT’S YOUR NAME) MY ANSWER ALWAYS GONNA BE THE SAME (WHAT’S YOUR NAME, WHAT’S YOUR NAME) I’LL SAY MY NAME IS AWFUL LONG AS IT’S THE LYRICS OF THIS SONG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I do not know how a single person in the world could possibly listen to this song and not feel the hype in their fucking soul and The Musician’s mission as their own. For three minutes and twenty-nine seconds, I’m a guitar wielding musician recently freed from prison on a mission to get my woman back from a dastardly kazoo playing villain. And it better be yours too.

I don’t know why on these TBS and BSOL tracks, there’s noise/people talking at the beginning/end. I assume for like atmosphere/continuity to signify that they’re from the same show/should be listened to together?

Last on Land

Don't look at me, I'm listening to Last on Land. As always, thinking about that one review that called this song the out of nowhere number about sailing. Watch your fucking back, I’m about to turn you into an out of nowhere number about sailing. Though I’ll be honest, parts of this song are still lost on me but I enjoy that. I’m always thinking about what certain lines could mean when I’m listening to this song. Some parts mean a different thing to me every time I listen to it. I guess I can understand how someone who wasn’t paying attention and hearing this song for the first time could think it was just a song about boats. I mean, admittedly that’s what I thought the first time I heard this song. But then you listen again and you notice the raw fucking lines like “we find the solution to escape our fate, it lies in the equal distribution of our weight” and I dare you to not feel even an ounce about community and what we owe and willingly give to one another when this song plays.

Since it’s in a different key on Album as it is in the show, the octave jump on the piano backing is even higher and everything feels even more perilous. Like oh my god, things are beginning to sink!!

Sorry I am continuously ragging on it, but it’s noticeably not as good in an album of mostly good to stellar performances. I don’t think Jason ST’s performance on this track is the greatest but the tiredness sort of fits the opening of the song so it’s not as egregious on this track. I don’t know there’s any standout performances on this track actually, it starts getting very good later into the song.

I love the angelic choir sort of quality the “ohs” in the vocal only part, and it carries that quality even when everything else comes back in. It feels like prayer and community to someone non-religious like me. The only thing on this earth for us is each other. The new harmonies are so fucking good it makes me lose my entire goddamn mind every time I listen two minutes of this song. Especially the new high part on “if you weren’t here with me.” You know the one. The echoing on the chorus. Thank you Joel for these god tier vocal arrangements. It’s what this song fucking deserves. It really feels like it’s taking full advantage of the size of its goddamn cast list. I wouldn’t be surprised if almost all the people in that image of people on the album were in this chorus.

Can you believe that Joe originally wasn’t going to do any songs from full shows of his? Thank god Jen convinced him otherwise. Lord, what would I do without [this version of this song].

Try Again

I connected like a year ago that the "lifeboat manned by me" line was in reference to Bloodsong but it took me up until a few weeks ago to realize the "fuck those bastards, find a friend" is also probably one. With how connected this song is to other works of Joe now I'm realizing the suicide attempt off the roof is not at all random and definitely calling back to Broadway, Here I Come! lol. It takes me a minute...

Ending with Try Again instead of Last on Land is fun and interesting. The placement of this song makes me think Joe still feels like he hasn’t made it in the way he wants to in this industry, which, fair. It’s just funny how a song he wrote with a large inspiration about BMC after TRT is still the message he wants to go out on, that even with that very show making it to Broadway, he still feels he’s at the stage where he’s picking himself back up and trying again. And I guess YMMV on if he deserves to feel that way. With how much he talks about being a fan of traditional musical theater and having traditional mindsets of what being successful in musical theater looks like, he certainly hasn’t made that original show that’s been reviewed well by the NYT regionally and moved to Broadway and had a successful run in the way he thinks/thought shows should do. And both BBH and LIHN, right after BMC had a similar trajectory of not being the success he wanted, with LIHN being especially similar to how BMC started out.

Though honestly I don’t know what Joe Iconis would be like if he had his well-loved Broadway hit and I don’t know if it’s ever gonna happen for him. It seems like he just somehow grates on people in a way that in his eyes, he’ll be almost making it forever. Like if you just shift your viewpoint a bit, this track would’ve also fit very well after Right Place/Wrong Time as the 26th track, at exactly halfway through Album. With this song as the midpoint, it would’ve sent a message of how despite the NYT review, he tried again and BMC was eventually able to get to Broadway because of the love people had for it, and he saw that result of trying again and is past that part of his life.

Am I reading into all this too much? Probably. Maybe he placed it here as an upbeat message about trying again to loop back to the beginning of the album. But reading and listening to what he says in interviews I’m inclined to think he still feels like he’s in the trying again stage of his life.

#teresa talks #album #refusing to use full names lol on the off chance one of them somehow finds this #im being a little mean a little bitchy i dont want people to see mean words about them lol #iaf #my posts #ive been working on this post since june 24 lol #then joe started posting on tumblr and i got scared hed namesearch himself and see this #oh well if he does ill just die #i continue to ramble in tags in hopes that this will make it not show up in search #please god i just dont want creators to see me talking about them #this is my space!!!#anyway i hope if he does find this he knows i say this with as much love as possible #i mean i wrote 9k words of thoughts i think about it a lot #every day i live in fear #the irony of loving if you like it so much and desperately hoping he doesnt find u talking about him #i just think there should be a separate spaces between fans and creators #where we can be a lil mean amongst ourselves with the understanding it's all love #joe iconis

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joelsgoldrush · 4 months ago

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“give me all of that ultraviolence” | 2k

logan howlett x f!reader

SUMMARY: You give Logan head for the first time.

WARNINGS/TAGS: mdni - smut 18+ implied age gap. dirty talk. kind of inexperienced reader. oral sex (m receiving). face fucking. dom!logan. a tiny bit of degradation. he guides you through the whole experience (shocking!!! i know)

AUTHOR’S NOTE: HI PALS!!! yes i'm alive and kicking. yes university is killing me. so recently i’ve been OBSESSED with this man and i needed to write something for him. english is not my first language and i may have made some mistakes (if you encounter any you can tell me, i won't mind it). comments/likes/reblogs would be highly appreciated. i've got sooooo many ideas to write and i'm finally getting my hands on them. i missed you all so fucking much. hope you enjoy this!!!

It’s common knowledge that all humans have needs. Try as you may, there’s a primitive side that you can’t spare yourself from. You, as everybody else, have urges.

“Logan,” you basically mewl his name, five letters that roll off your tongue with little effort. He doesn’t seem to acknowledge you, his kisses growing harsher on the delicate skin of your neck. Threading your fingers through his hair, you decide to try again, speaking a bit louder this time. “Logan, please.”

“What is it, honey?” he says, bitten lips still pressed to your pulse point. As you remain silent, he looks up at you, those big, brown eyes that you love so dearly almost completely dark now. “Do you want to call it a day?”

His question catches you off-guard. You cup his face, thumbs caressing his cheekbones, suddenly afraid that he might pull away from you. “No! Not at all. That’s- that’s not what I want at all, actually.”

“What do you want, then? You can tell me,” he kisses you on the lips, softly at first. What starts as nothing more than a sweet kiss turns into a needier one, his hard on poking you through your shorts. “Come on. Tell me, baby. What does my sweet girl want?”

“I want to suck you off, Logan,” you whisper as you latch your mouth onto his, and you can feel how he visibly tenses beneath you. His breath hitches in his throat when you grind your hips. “I really need it.”

From the very beginning of your relationship, you had made things crystal clear: you didn’t have much experience on this territory. For a man his age, he was totally understanding. He knew you had your own times, that for him to take you to bed would take longer. Truth be told, Logan was willing to go to the ends of the world for you. There was no use in forcing anything.

At present, the bulge amid his legs becomes even more noticeable as you get off his lap, playing with his belt. “Can I?” you ask him, amazed at how straightforward you’re being.

Logan stares at you, so far panting, lust glowing in his eyes. “Shit, you’re gonna be the death of me,” he mutters as he helps you undress him. His worn out jeans end up pooling around his ankles, and you locate yourself in between his legs.

You’re on your knees, hands folded in front of you. Suddenly, it hits you, the shame of it all. How badly you want him, how desperate you are to feel the weight of his cock on your tongue. How many nights you’ve dreamt of this moment, unable to stop that unbearable need of touching yourself every time you thought about pleasuring him.

That’s what you truly want. For him to use you.

“What’s wrong, princess? We’ve talked about this a lot of times. You know what to do,” you can’t help but stare at his crotch as you listen to him, and then he raises your chin with his finger, your lips parting unconsciously. You blink slowly at him, eyelashes fluttering together. At last, he seems to understand what you’re trying to tell him, and he raises his eyebrows, that cocky grin of his taking place where it belongs. “You want me to guide you, don’t you? Want me to tell you what to do? Know you like it when I go a bit off the rails.”

You moan at his words, squeezing your eyes shut and nuzzling your cheek up against his palm. Slick gathers in your panties as you push your thighs together. “Please. Tell me what to do.”

“Take it out,” he instructs you, and you do as you’re told. Grabbing him by the base, you pull his cock out of his briefs. He twitches in your hand, and he’s so, so incredibly big.

You stroke him once, testing the feeling. This you know how to do. You’ve given him hand jobs millions of times, although this one feels particularly different from the others.

He takes hold of your fist, applying a bit of pressure. “I’m sorry, baby. I think you got it all wrong. I’m the one who makes the calls here, okay?” he grunts, his brows knitted, and you only nod, salivating at the sight of his cock already leaking precum at the tip. Logan licks his lips, curling his hand around yours. “You do as I say. Now, stroke me. Nice. And. Slow,” he punctuates each of his words by moving both your hand and his in unison around his length. “That’s it, darling. You just need someone to boss you around from time to time, ain’t I right?”

One thing to know about Logan: he’s so full of himself on a daily basis, but he just gets worse in bed.

“My mouth,” you hover your lips over the head of his cock, all shiny and soft. He has let you go, both of his arms now flexed behind his head, as if he were appreciating how pathetic you must look on your knees, begging for him to allow you to taste him. “Let me.”

“Not yet,” his hips follow your tormenting pace, seeking the warmth that your skin radiates. He grits his teeth, biting his lower lip. You’ve no idea how a man so strong can become putty in your hands like this. “Greedy girl. I’m beginning to think you’ve set me up. Only a slut would get so worked up about having a cock in her mouth. What happened to my innocent girl? Gone with the wind, huh?”

“Please, Lo. I need it so bad,” you are whining, peppering his thighs with kisses. You inhale his musky scent, getting dizzy. “Give it to me. I’ll be good.”

Out of nowhere, Logan grabs a handful of your hair, forcing you to arch your back. He scrutinizes your face, studying your blissed out demeanor. “I don’t doubt that. I’m sure you’ll be good. Otherwise, we’ll keep on trying. We have all night, and you have a good memory, just need to put it to use,” as he taps your lower lip with his tip, you catch him smirking. He repeats that same motion until he has you shivering from the excitement of being stuffed. ”Show me how much you need it. Go easy on it at first, okay? Don’t want you choking beforehand.”

You’re more than happy to comply.

Your tongue darts out to lick at his head, enveloping it between your lips. The salty taste of his precum invades your tastebuds, and you moan as you trace the veins of his cock with the pad of your thumb. “Tastes so good, Lo,” your voice sounds distant, almost unrecognizable to your own ears.

“I know, bub. Such a nice fucking mouth, can’t believe you’ve never done this before. I guess you’re a natural,” shaky fingers place a strand of hair behind your ears, patting your head as if you were a dog in heat. “Do you feel like bobbing your head a little?” he asks you, and you prepare yourself, attaching your mouth to his head once again. “Good. That’s good.”

With that being said, Logan fists your hair once again and shoves your face down, his hard cock tickling your throat. Your whines and his rapid breaths are the only sounds to be heard in your bedroom. He grins as he takes in the sight of you. “Oh, sweetheart. You look so beautiful with your mouth stretched around me,” his index finger taps your cheek and he feels the outline of his own cock. “You know I can smell you, right? You’re fucking soaked, baby. Think you’ll leave a stain on the carpet? You’d clean it off with your tongue, wouldn’t you?”

You have no idea how he’s coming up with these things, but you’re far from annoyed. In fact, you’ve never been this wet. Your underwear must be ruined at this point, and you wish Logan would tell you to touch yourself.

After some minutes of bobbing your head up and down, he pulls you off his cock and you breathe through your mouth for the first time in a while. As you gasp for air, Logan kisses you, tasting himself. He massages the back of your neck, his cock throbbing between the two of you. “You tired?”

Your glossy eyes widen. Shaking your head, you go for his balls this time, sucking one of them while toying with the other. Logan buries his hands in your hair for what must be the hundredth time in the night, unable to stop himself. “F-fuck, that’s it. A pretty girl like you just gets what she needs,” he praises you, and you return to his length, taking as many inches as you can without hurting yourself. Tears shimmer in your eyes, yet you can’t bring yourself to care about that detail. You’re far too focused on Logan’s grunts and growls. “Keep that up and I’ll come. You heard me? You’re gonna make me fucking come, bub.”

His words ignite a fire inside you. You use your hands, your mouth, everything that you have to pleasure him. He’s getting closer and closer, thighs shaking when you pay special attention to his tip. Logan responds to each of your movements, and as you feel every coherent thought fly out the window, you try to take him all the way down your throat, breathing through your nose and swallowing around him. He cants his hips up, brutally fucking your mouth. Like a dog without a leash, Logan seems to get lost in the warmth that envelopes his cock, chasing his own release. “You’re such a good girl. My good girl. Nobody will fuck this mouth ever again. I’ll ruin you for any pathetic guy that tries to get in your pants. You’re fucking mine, darling. Oh, f-fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuck-”

You’re met with his happy trail once he spills his hot load inside your mouth. He keeps you trapped there, his cock twitching and spamming through the aftershocks of his orgasm. You don’t think twice and swallow what he’s giving you. Some of his cum slips from your lips, falling directly onto the carpet. Even Logan seems surprised when he doesn’t stop coming.

He helps you stand up after a moment, kissing you as soon as he gets the chance. He licks into your mouth, squeezing the flesh of your hips. Logan lifts his eyebrows, relishing how cock-drunk you must look. “I think you nearly killed me. And that’s a lot to say coming from someone who cannot fucking die.”

You plaster a smile on your face, hugging his wide frame. “So, was I okay?”

His jaw goes slack, and he lowers his head to capture your lips in another kiss. “You were fantastic. I could easily get hard again just from thinking about it,” his fingers trace the buttons of your shirt, tugging at the fabric of it. “What if you let me focus on yourself for a while? You’ve already done enough, baby. Let me take care of you,” he rubs his hands on your thighs, reaching for your drenched panties. “Perhaps we could try something else today. That pussy’s begging to be fucked.”

dividers by: @/cafekitsune thank you!!! :)

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3verythingiknowaboutlove · 19 days ago

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the limit does not exist!

how spencer helps college!reader understand a little calculus and therefore understand how he loves her.

MDNI | smut word count: 1931 warnings & tags & stuff: fem reader, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), lil bit of overstim hehe, pure unbridled affection, LOVE, FLUFF, hugging, reader cries, this was in fact meant to be written for spence's birthday... sorry about that school is kicking my butt lets just pretend it's october! author's note: this one is for my folks who HATE their calculus class and want spencer reid to give them head instead <3 maybe this can help you romanticize it a bit. i think this is classified as self indulgent…like REALLY self indulgent… hah... anyway i hope you enjoy! let me know your thoughts if u have any, i loveeeee you!! have a great day my hands are shaking posting this smut is so scary!!!!!

You sat in bed, staring down your notebook, eyes narrowed. Limits stared back at you. You were just about at your own limit, if you were being honest.

Your brain, however sharp and witty it may be, is absolutely not one designed for calculus. A literary analysis essay? Done in half an hour. In depth scientific research project? Easiest months of your life. But there’s something about finding the instantaneous rate of change of a curve at one point in time by finding the slope of a tangent line that hasn't clicked yet.

A slew of other papers- notes, practice worksheets printed from obscure websites, and formulas- surround you, a sea of unfinished thoughts from the past month of the semester.

You bite on the end of your pen, the little hope you had for a good grade in this class slipping further and further away with each passing moment, like the last ember dying in the remains of a fire.

What you really wanted to be doing was celebrating Spencer’s birthday with him right now. A chocolate cake lay on the kitchen counter and pasta simmers on the stove, but you and your boyfriend had agreed to do a solid hour of work before the celebrations ensued.

You were never particularly strong willed when it came to following through on such agreements.

“Teach me calculus,” you say, a very impressive three minutes later, flopping down on the couch. Your head makes its way to its forever resting spot, Spencer’s lap. He raises his eyebrows slightly, thumb reaching out to trace over the slope of your nose. His eyes flit between you and the file to the side of him.

“I thought we agreed on an hour.”

“Yeah. But it wouldn’t be a very productive hour if I didn’t know how to do what I have to do. And I missed you.”

He sighs quietly, closing the file next to him.

“What do you not understand?” You smile at that, loving how quickly you won.

“Related rates. Like, conceptually.”

Spencer hums in response.

“It’s October. You’re not even supposed to know related rates yet.”

“Fine. Then let's open presents,” you respond, smiley. His eyebrows get impossibly higher, hand stroking your cheek delicately.

“No. I want our night to be a little more stress free when we celebrate, okay? How about you think about that lovely cake you made for me. What if I decided to squash it so that the diameter would get bigger, going from…let’s say, 20 centimeters to 26 centimeters in 3 seconds, and the height would get smal-”

“That wouldn't be nice. It took me like four hours,” you interrupt, grumbling. He cracks a smile.

“For the sake of the example, let's say I was an awful boyfriend and really wanted to ruin all the hard work you put in for me.”

You roll your eyes.

“Hey,” he says, hand moving down to touch your jaw softly. “Don’t do that. Don’t be difficult. I’m helping you.”

“Sorry. I guess I need you to zoom out a little. I don’t really get why I’m learning this as a whole.” Spencer’s eyes pore into yours, staring down at you adoringly for a small moment as he comes up with an answer.

“Calculus helps us begin to explain the unexplainable by harnessing what we can,” Spencer says simply. “Einstein once said that, ‘Pure mathematics is, in its way, the poetry of logical ideas,’ which makes it simple in practice, but I actually like to think about it as the opposite philosophically. Trying to find logic in the more poetic ideas.”

You cuddle deeper in his lap.

“Think he would agree with that?” you ask. “I do answer to Einstein before you, unfortunately.” Spencer bends down to kiss your hair.

“I think so. He also had a really nice quote where he remarked that, ‘Gravitation cannot be held responsible for people falling in love.’ He said, ‘How on earth can you explain in terms of chemistry and physics so important a biological phenomenon as first love? Put your hand on a stove for a minute and it seems like an hour. Sit with that special girl for an hour and it seems like a minute. That's relativity.’”

Spencer takes a deep breath.

“Math doesn’t explain how I love you. It can’t. But I love the fact that it tries to. It kinda makes you wanna learn it as best you can.”

You process that for a long second and nod. He keeps talking.

…

Presents get opened, and cake gets eaten before dinner. Of course.

You’re now in bed, on top of the covers, forcing Spencer to give you a fashion show of the new sweater vest and tie you got him. He turns to you after putting it on, and you beam.

“I really like it. You look great. Do you like it?” you ask. He nods, smiling back at you.

“I’m gonna wear it to work tomorrow.”

You beckon for Spencer to come closer, sitting up in bed. Your hands go out to the tie, tugging at the knot softly. He stares down at you until eventually interrupting your motions with a slow kiss, hands cupping your face.

“You’re so pretty,” he mutters.

He pulls away and finishes what you started, folding the tie neatly and setting it in the drawer. Then comes the vest, and soon enough, he’s just in his boxers.

“You’re the pretty one,” you say quietly. “Come to bed.” He crawls on next to you, tugging you into his arms. “Happy birthday, Spence. I love you.” He dips his forehead to your shoulder.

“I love you.”

Before you know it, he’s shifted on top of you, moving down. Fast. You blink, hard, trying to rid your head of the hazy endorphins as you register what he’s doing.

“What? No, I was gonna do that. It’s your birthday. You don’t have to,” you protest.

“But I really, really want to, darling girl,” he murmurs back, kissing your knee and softly pushing it to the side.

You fluster and Spencer just looks at you, fingers tracing shapes on your waist, waiting for you to be ready.

“Well. Um. Okay. If you insist. I can’t really deny the birthday boy.” Your voice is small, and a little giddy smile grows on your face. Of course Spencer Reid would want to give you head on his birthday.

He smiles a little against the bare skin of your hip where your top meets your shorts. Then he meets your eyes.

“You know you can, though, right?” he asks, voice a little more serious. You reach out to touch his hair softly.

“Yeah. I know.”

Fingers hook your shorts, gently pulling them down. He presses a kiss to your thigh, and then he suddenly looks down at it.

“Soft,” he murmurs, like he’s making a mental note. He presses another, and another, incrementally going closer and closer to your soaked through underwear. His eyebrows scrunch when he sees the wet spot. “All this from a few kisses?”

You blush, unable to respond.

Spencer’s fingers hook a centimeter of your underwear. “These?” he checks.

“Yes, please,” you manage. He tugs them down, silently noticing the slickness of your sex, and exhales shakily.

“How many times on average does it take for a guy to call you pretty on a given day before you get annoyed?” he murmurs, soft smile playing on his face. You smile too, head cloudy from his words, but it immediately drops when his lips press directly against your pulsing clit, kissing it softly.

“Fuck,” you say (Spencer would argue moan) softly (loudly). You let out a content sigh, and he moves to suckle it, actions becoming less and less delicate.

It’s not harsh, but incessant. Spencer knows what you can take. He knows exactly what you can take. You’re both quiet for a bit, save for your breathy moans.

“Spencer,” you say softly, ripping you both out of your individually hazy and dirty and distracted minds. “You’re too far away.” He looks up to you, face parallel to your aching core, hair beautifully messy and mouth glistening.

After a second, he grabs your hips, gently pushing you up against the pillows so you’re propped up at a better angle. He then shifts his body up wordlessly so he’s more above you, dipping his head down to give you a soft kiss. You taste yourself, tongue darting out to lick your lips.

His hand takes over where his mouth was, sliding in between your folds with a practiced ease. Spencer looks down at you, eyes wide and flitting between yours, searching for a reaction.

You reach out and wrap your arms around him, holding him close. “Holy shit, I love you,” you murmur.

His fingers lightly graze your clit again before one slides into you. “Angel,” he breathes out, so quietly. “I love you too. This okay? Are you okay?”

You nod feverishly and lift your hips to meet his hand, always in a perpetual state of wanting more, to be closer. Your bodies are melded so close together, barely giving him room to push his hand into you. He doesn’t even bother to ask you to use your words or keep your hips down, like he might on a regular night.

He pulls his head back to watch as he pushes another finger into you, stretching you just a little. “There we go. You always feel like heaven around me.”

Your eyes flit up to his face as he says those words, now having a little more room to observe him. You focus on the slope of his nose and curve of his mouth.

“You’re so perfect,” you say quietly, adoringly, before you even realize it was true.

You blink at that thought. Spencer Reid is perfect, despite whatever universal odds deeming that impossible.

Those graphs, those formulas, now laying discarded & crumpled on the ground. They click, a little bit. You understand why Albert Einstein wanted to spend his life developing theories of relativity.

This is how Spencer sees you? What he was talking about earlier?

This is how he sees you?

The thought is almost too much.

Spencer sees your face, and not knowing what's going on in your head, slides down his free hand from your cheek to your carotid, feeling your racing pulse. “Take a deep breath for me, okay? You're about to come, huh?”

You inhale and are met with peace. Then your orgasm hits you like a wave. You clench hard around his fingers, and he just watches it happen, fascinated. “Baby,” he coos softly at you.

It wasn’t just your sensitivity he’s currently maximizing on or the little kisses he dips down to leave on your neck that sealed the deal, but the very thought that you could be loved in a way that is so perfectly impossible.

You exhale breathily as Spencer pushes you through the last trails of your climax, fingers not caring one bit that you just had your world tilted on its axis.

“Spencer. Ohmygodohmygodohmygod,” you say eventually, overstimulated.

“You’re okay. Did so good.” he murmurs, fingers slipping out of you.

His thumb brushes your cheek, wiping away a tear you didn't even realize was dripping down.

“Don’t cry, you always cry. It’s my birthday. Don’t cry on my birthday,” he whispers soothingly, affection lacing his voice.

“I’m not.”

Another one falls.

You reach and press out that perpetual little slope between his eyebrows with your thumb, gentle, like you might break him. “I’m not crying.”

Spencer lets you lie.

#spencer reid #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #fanfic #piper’s works

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ohdeerfully · 10 months ago

Note

alastor request HAI can it be based on the fact that alastor doesn't sleep, and it's his lover finding out that petting his ears during cuddling makes him fall asleep.

thank you for your service

yess i love sleepy alastor thank u so much anon :D!!

Goodmorning, Love

Alastor x Reader (fluff) TW: none! join my discord! ═══ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ═══

You were well aware of the Radio Demon’s sleep habits. Or, well, lack of sleep habits. You often spent nights in his room, where he would sit with you in bed until you fell asleep and go do whatever the hell he gets up to late at night. You always woke up in an empty room, and often so in the middle of the night, struggling to rest again as a greedy tightness gripped your chest in worry and disappointment.

You understood, though, and tried your best not to let it get to you that you didn’t have his warm body next to you when you woke every morning. But you couldn’t help that twinge of sadness. You weren’t particularly needy or clingy, but would it kill him to stay in bed with you for a single night? And to have a slice of domestic bliss as you woke up?

Obviously.

You roll your eyes as you lay, staring up at the ceiling. You had just gotten ready for bed, and now waited for said demon to join you for a few hours. Your fingers tapped, impatient, against your chest as you hummed absentmindedly.

“How lovely,” You heard him speak. Tickles of that radio static that always followed him clung to your exposed skin, which was signal enough that he had entered the room had he not announced himself. “What a siren you are, luring me here with that hum of yours.”

You smiled slightly at his comment, scooching over slightly to encourage him over. He obliged, joining you under the covers. He still wore his usual outfit, which made sense considering his tendency to go away all night. You purse your lips at the thought, slightly chewing on the skin.

“Why the face?” Of course he noticed your expression. He always noticed when any emotion tickled your face. You appreciated the genuine tone in his voice, the typical buzz of radio barely detectable in his words. He always got a little softer and kinder when he was alone with you like this.

You appreciated nights with him, being able to see a side of him that nobody else would live to spread word of. You enjoyed feeling a little special, especially to somebody like him.

“Do you think you could stay in,” You asked cautiously, fiddling with your hands as you inched closer to him, pressing your body against his. Even laying, he still seemed much taller than you. You gingerly guided his head down, against your chest as you spoke, hoping the multitasking would keep him from sitting up and rejecting your intimate gestures. “Just for a night. I miss you all night long.”

He allowed his head to lay against you. He did feel tense, of course, letting the back of his head be exposed in this manner as he lay vulnerable on you. It was a strange feeling, but not one he cared to consider for too long.

“(Y/N),” He began with a sigh. “It’s impossible for me to get much done during the day, what with all the running around Charlie does. Somebody has to keep an eye on that young princess. I prefer to stay awake to get my own errands done at night.”

I know that, you wanted to say and interrupt his explanatory ramble. You wanted to beg him to understand, just this once. You held in a sigh, watching as his head gently rose and fell with every breath you took. Maybe you should just take this submission from him as good enough.

You gingerly began tangling your fingers through his red hair, brushing out any kinks he may have gotten throughout the day. His tense body seemed to ease slightly, becoming more and more relaxed as you weaved your fingers through the locks.

“You have really soft hair, Al,” You commented, changing the subject. You figured there was no use convincing him. You let your fingers lightly trail upwards, up to his ears. You grazed them slightly with a finger. You touched again. When he made no motion of dislike, you fully began rubbing them. Petting him. You smiled to yourself at the idea of petting the feared Radio Demon. “And your ears are even softer.”

“I try to take care of myself,” He responded proudly. There was another hint of something in his voice, but you couldn’t quite place what it was. But it seemed heavy. “A well groomed man is a successful one.” You absentmindedly agreed as you stroked the velvety fur of his ears, switching back and forth between them and his hair. You had a preference for the ears, though.

You sighed and began humming quietly again. He rarely got so… comfortable, even around you. He always had some sort of guard up, always had his shoulders squared. He almost never became so… loose and vulnerable.

You noticed the clippings of radio frequency had stopped, which was a noise that was ever present in his wake. You had a suspicion why it disappeared, a small grin forming on your face.

Yes, the Radio Demon never slept. But that was a choice he made, not a curse that prevented him. Even demons get tired. You don’t know how Alastor makes it day by day without a wink of rest, but it was apparent that exhaustion had built up in him. He just needed to relax for a second.

You graced your fingers over his fringe, and craned your neck in a way to get a glance at his face. Yeah, you were right.

He laid there, eyes shut, features relaxed with the lightest grin playing on his face. Even in sleep, you complained. It didn’t really matter. What mattered was the sound of his deep, slow breathing and occasional twitch of his velvety ears. You briefly wondered what the Radio Demon would dream about.

Would he be aggravated with you when he woke up, realizing you had practically cast a sleep spell on him? You didn’t, but the rate of which exhaustion took over may as well have been some sort of magic.

You shut your own heavy eyes, exhaling lightly as you continued to comfort yourself with the texture of his fur and hair. It didn’t take long for you to fall asleep.

You craned your arms and neck as consciousness came back to you, but an unfamiliar weight kept you from getting that good stretch in. Momentarily confused, you blinked open and looked down.

Red and black hair, more of a mess than usual, still took place on your torso. This was a first, and your chest felt like exploding with the glee of seeing Alastor still resting with you. He somehow looked even more relaxed than the night before, his cheek flush against your stomach, squishing his lips up slightly. A light grin was still there.

You gently brushed your fingers over his face, trailing a line around his features with an index finger. His eyes squeezed for a moment, and that static ambience of his slowly, quietly, returned. It was a noise that you had learned to find comfort in. He slowly opened his red eyes, a confused and sleepy daze clouding them. There was a wrinkle in his brow as he roughly propped himself up with an elbow, looking up at you with a furrowed expression.

“(Y/N)..?” He trailed, pausing to take in a shuddering morning yawn through a confused smirk. “Did I… Dear, what time is it?”

You looked at him tenderly. Oh, how cute he was, sleepy like this. Composed like an exhausted kid. Something even you have never seen before.

“Yeah,” You responded to his unspoken question. “It’s probably seven a.m. or so. I dunno.” There wasn’t a clock in your immediate line of sight.” “A.m. …” He said slowly. He sat up fully, looking down in disappointment at his wrinkled day wear. He quickly blinked the sleep from his eyes and managed to bring some composure to himself, but that lick of exhaustion was still prominent. Especially under his eyes.

“Yeah,” You said again, a light chuckle following. “Goodmorning, Al.”

He wasn’t obviously upset, it seemed. Though he probably was too tired to think about it too much yet. Maybe later.

“Well… Goodmorning, love.” He responded, still with a hint of confusion in his voice. “I suppose I accepted your plea from last night.” He brushed at his clothes while he spoke, trying to flatten out the creases that were brought on through a night of rest.

“Maybe more often?” You asked, twiddling your thumbs in anticipation. You already knew the answer, but it was okay. You knew how to keep him in now. You mischievously smirked as he closed his eyes and shook his head.

“Unlikely.”

#alastor #alastor x reader #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #ohdeerfully #alastor is eepy #fluff

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headkiss · 1 year ago

Text

something more

pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!bau!reader

summary: you and aaron are friends with feelings more obvious than you think. or: 5 times the team suspects you and hotch are dating +1 time they know it.

word count: 6.6k

warnings: friends to lovers, the team being a little nosy, pining idiots!!!, probably inaccurate descriptions of bau jobs (for the plot!), a very small injury, a birthday, a first kiss, and fluff!

a/n: hiii this one has been a long time coming so thank you guys for being so patient with me!!! and special thanks to the anon who requested this one! i hope u guys enjoy it and please please let me know what you think <3 ily

༄

Aaron Hotchner was never someone you thought you could be this close to.

Coming to the BAU, you’d been intimidated more than anything. As Unit Chief, he’s got a reputation that’s hard to ignore. Professional, brave, cold when he has to be. His success and talent were undeniable, and all you wanted to do was prove that you belonged there, too.

Then, you really met him, and he surprised you in a way you hadn’t expected. Hotch was kind right off the bat, welcoming you to the team with a smile that felt like some sort of prize.

He was an excellent boss. Understanding and protective, quick to defend anyone on the team like they were his own family. Except, he was so much more than just your boss.

Now, you’d call him your closest friend, someone who’s number you’d call if you were in trouble. He’s your closest friend and yet you feel so much more for him.

It started slow, a friendship blooming the way a plant does with just enough sunlight. It was a shared smile here, a nudge of the shoulder there. It grew to be a seat next to him reserved for you on every plane ride.

Today, it’s eating lunch with him in his office.

Aaron usually works through lunch, more eager to get things done than he is to worry about skipping a meal. Somehow, with two tupperware containers in your hand and a sweet smile, you’d managed to get him to take a break.

“Whatcha doing?” You’d asked.

Hotch looked up from his paperwork then, dropping his pen because you were in his doorway. “You know, Unit Chief business. Reports.”

“Sounds like you have time for lunch, then.” You set the containers down on his desk, making sure to avoid the papers he’d just been working on.

“I should really get this done-”

“Hotch,” you stopped him, “you and I both know that you’re always ahead on this stuff because you stay here so late. Lunch won’t set you back.”

With a shake of his head and the biting back of a smile, a simple twitch at the corners of his mouth, Aaron agreed and stacked his paperwork off to the side.

That’s how you’ve ended up in the chair that’s usually on the opposite side of his desk, only now it’s tugged to be next to his. Your knees touch every so often when one of you shifts, and the warmth stays with you even when the contact is gone.

“Sorry it’s nothing fancy,” you say as he opens the container you brought for him.

“Don’t apologize. It’s great.” Hotch has a way of saying things that make them sound true, no matter how few words he uses, so you accept it.

“Okay, good!” There’s a small silence, a lull as you both take your first bites. “Can I help with anything?”

Aaron looks from the paperwork to your face, your eyes already on his. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I want to,” you reassure him. “I think sometimes you forget that you aren’t the only one who can do this stuff.”

He knocks his knee against yours. Purposeful this time. A silent ‘thank you.’

“Like you said, I’m ahead anyways. I’ve got it.”

“Come on, Hotch. I’m already done with my report from our last case. I’ve got time. Let me help.”

He’s always been reluctant to accept help, to ask for it, but when you’re asking so sweetly, when it’ll give him an excuse to spend more time with you, it’s hard for Aaron to say no.

“Alright. You help for an hour, that’s it.”

You grin at him, like his acceptance of your offer was some kind of gift he’d given you. Your nose crinkles a little with it, and his hand flexes in his lap, like he’s fighting not to reach out to you.

“Okay, put me to work, boss.”

“We just started lunch,” he says, a little chuckle puffing out.

“Have you ever heard of multitasking, Agent Hotchner?”

Aaron laughs, shaking his head as he reaches for one of the files in the stack he’d made and hands it to you. He’d call everyone at the BAU a friend, but there’s something different, something more about how he’d describe you.

He’s grown closer to you than he usually lets himself get to people, like you’re the only one with the right tools to break through walls he’s put up. You see each other outside of work (on the rare days you aren’t working), and still, he feels like it’s never long enough.

Hotch briefly wonders if he could just move your desk into his office. He shakes off the thought and what it might mean.

Head bent, you’re now focused on the work he gave you, and Aaron takes the chance to admire you. His eyes flick over your profile, the light hitting your cheeks, the flutter of your eyelashes every time you blink.

As if you could feel his gaze on you, you turn towards him and smile—a small, closed-mouth smile, but a smile all the same—before turning your attention back to the page.

When you take a pause and take another bite of your lunch, a small drop of sauce lands on your thigh. “Oh, shit.”

Aaron grabs a tissue from the box on his desk, wrapping it over his fingertip before wiping the small spot from your leg, his finger a spark against you even through your pants.

“Good thing you wore black,” he says, tossing the tissue in the garbage. His hand, however, stays on your leg, and though the touch is light the weight of it feels the opposite. Heavy, huge.

“Good thing you’re here to clean up after me, more like.”

Your eyes meet, and you share a smile with Hotch the way you often do. Mid-conversation, across a room, it’s a smile you sort of reserve for each other.

In the main office below, Derek, Spencer, and JJ stand together, watching the interaction through the window into Hotch’s office. You and Aaron seem to be in your own bubble, completely unaware of your small audience.

“They’ve gotta be together,” Derek is the first to speak, waving a hand towards the office where you and Hotch are talking. “I mean, come on.”

“I don’t know,” JJ shrugs, “they both seem kinda clueless.”

“We probably shouldn’t speculate about them,” Spencer, always the sweetheart, says. “But, statistically, Hotch never eats lunch. Just saying.”

JJ pats Reid on the shoulder, huffing out a laugh before she heads back to her desk.

You stay in Aaron’s office much longer than an hour that day.

Punctuality is important in the BAU. Really, if you’re not early, you’re late. You’ve always got to be ready, wheels up in ten, or five.

You suppose that doesn’t really apply to outside-of-the-office parties at Garcia’s.

It’s rare that you’re all available at the same time, from late nights at the bureau to families, it’s tough to make your schedules line up when you aren’t working, which is why whenever she can, Penelope likes to host drinks for the team.

You’re on your way there now, or, you should be. Instead, you’re getting ready in your bedroom while Aaron waits in your living room.

Hotch has offered to drive you to these things every time, and with every offer, comes your easy answer of ‘yes.’ He’d been outside in his car for five minutes before he decided to call, because you’re usually in his passenger seat within seconds of him pulling over by your building.

The ringing of your phone had your eyes blinking open, squinted against the sudden brightness of your TV. You’d accidentally fallen asleep, and, still disoriented, picked up the phone. “Hello?”

“Hey, everything okay?” It’s Aaron’s voice on the other line, and you pull your phone away for a second to check the time before sitting up quickly.

“Shit, Hotch, I must’ve fallen asleep. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s alright, I can wait for you.” He’d wait as long as you need, he thinks. The thought passes through like a leaf blown in the wind, freely, randomly.

“Have you been waiting long?” You ask, fingers tugging at a loose thread in your pants.

“No, don’t worry. Barely five minutes.”

And he still wanted to check on you.

“Why don’t you come in? My couch is probably more comfortable than your car, right?”

“You sure?” He checks, like he hasn’t been to your place before, like you’d ever not want him there.

“Get in here, Hotchner.”

You hung up before he could reply, and he laughed to himself in his car before shutting it off and doing exactly what you’d told him.

So, now, you’re rushing to find an outfit while Aaron sits on your couch by himself.

Even though he’s in the next room, you can feel his presence around you, the steady security he gives you, the warmth that seeps out of him even when he tries to hide it.

You settle on a knitted sweater, a skirt, and some tights, which you realize as you tug them on aren't the speediest of options, but it’s too late to change your mind now. With your hair figured out and the mascara that had smudged during your nap fixed, you step back out into the living room.

Aaron made himself at home while you were gone (he often feels that way with you, at home), sitting on your couch with his arms spread across the back. He looks better than he should there, suit stretched across his shoulders, and you have to clear your throat to snap yourself out of it.

“Okay, sorry again for the delay. I’m ready to go.”

He looks up as soon as you walk in, eyes skimming over your legs and the tights wrapped around them, your waist, up your neck. His gaze lands on your eyes the way it often does, like magnets.

He shakes his head, “don’t be sorry. We’ll be what they call ‘fashionably late.’”

You laugh, because who would’ve thought that the words ‘fashionably late’ would ever come out of Aaron Hotchner’s mouth.

“Who taught you that one, huh?”

“I like to keep my sources anonymous.”

“Well okay, then. Let’s go be fashionably late, Hotch.”

He lets you lead the way to the car, only jogging up ahead to open your door before you can reach it yourself.

During the drive to Penelope’s, you take control of the music with little objection from Aaron, and when it gets to a song you know he likes, you sing along, encouraging him to do the same.

“Let’s hear it, Agent Hotchner.” You hold your fist out like there’s a microphone in it, looking at him with a grin on your face.

“I can't sing.” Aaron’s fighting off a smile, because you’re sitting beside him, not too shy to sing along, being all cute and, briefly, he thinks about reaching out and grabbing your hand and holding on.

“Sure you can! Everyone can sing, come on.” You unfurl your faux microphone-holding fist and tug on the knot of his tie, “loosen up a little.”

And, because you have some way of convincing him of things—first lunch, now this—he humors you by joining in for one chorus of the song. When your eyes light up a little, and your grin only widens, he can’t bring himself to be too concerned of how bad he probably sounds.

By the time you’re at Garcia’s door you’re a solid hour late, yet you and Aaron walk up to the door with matching smiles all the same.

“I’m getting you to do that every time I hear that song now, I hope you know.”

“That was a one time special,” he says. He reaches over your shoulder to knock on the door. His hand brushes against you, featherlight and quick, a crackle over your skin.

On the other side, Morgan says, “must be the lovebirds” when he hears the sound.

You and Aaron don’t hear him, only broken out of your little shared bubble when Penelope opens the door. “There you guys are! I made your drinks but the ice might be melted by now. You know, ‘cause you’re late.”

You know this is directed towards you more than it is Hotch, because Garcia’s a little intimidated by him still. You also know she’s only joking, and greet her with a hug before stepping in.

Aaron isn’t far behind you, though at these things, he never is.

You’re met with warm greetings from the team when you walk in, and you chat for a bit, but it isn’t long before things split off into smaller conversations. They all know that Aaron drives you to these things, and, as profilers, they’re also all able to see the way you look at each other, the way the knot of his tie sits lower than usual.

In the corner, Emily leans over to Derek, saying, “usually it takes at least two drinks for Hotch’s tie to look like that.”

“I told you, they’re together,” Derek shrugs.

“I don’t think they know that,” Emily replies.

This time, Aaron hears them, and he can’t help but look towards you in the room the rest of the night, thinking and thinking and thinking.

He ends up deciding that they might have a point. That maybe, that shift in his heartbeat when you’re around isn’t nothing, isn’t just friends.

The flight home from a case always feels the longest.

On the way there, you’re packing every hour with information about what’s going on, talking to Garcia, reading police reports. You’re all on edge, eager to get out there and help and do your jobs,

Then, on the way home, with another case solved, all you’re thinking about is going home, sleeping in your own bed, and time seems to go slower.

If your name happens to be Aaron Hotchner, you’d spend the plane ride home doing paperwork that actually can wait.

You and Aaron sit next to each other on pretty much every flight, though the seats have never been assigned. It’s an unspoken thing, like your names are written on the fabric of the same two seats on the jet and that’s just the way it is.

The first time was early on in your time on the team. It was a tough case for you, and Hotch seemed to know it without you having to say anything, so, when you got on the jet to come home, he smiled that small, twitch of his lips smile at you and nodded at the seat next to him. You’ve been sitting there ever since.

Today, your flight is on the shorter side, but feels long the way it always does. Trying to keep yourself occupied, you pull out your earbuds and shuffle your playlist, hoping that the songs will speed things up.

“Sick of me already?” Hotch speaks up when he notices your headphones.

You tilt your head to look at him. He looks tired, the way you’re sure you do, too, but never any less handsome. His eyes are soft where they meet yours, paired with a hint of a smile that you’re always able to catch.

“Sick of you, Hotch? Never.” You nod at the file he has open on the small table, “just didn’t want to distract you.”

“I thought you enjoyed distracting me. Always telling me I work too much.”

“‘Cause it’s true,” you say. “That doesn’t mean you listen.”

“I listen to you more than I listen to most people.” Aaron’s voice is gentle when he says it, the words sinking in and melting you just a little, sugary sweet. It could mean absolutely nothing, but with the way he keeps his eyes steady on yours, you don’t think it does.

“Listen to this, then,” you hand him one of your earbuds, and his fingers brush yours when he takes it from you. “But you can’t make fun of me if a musical soundtrack comes on, okay?”

“Okay,” he huffs a small laugh, and you feel a little brighter. “I promise.”

You’re aware of the team having their own conversations in the rows in front of you and Hotch, but you can’t bring yourself to join in, because you and Aaron are sharing your earbuds and his head is bent just a little closer to yours. It’s delicate, and you’ll do your best not to break it.

You talk a little longer, until it naturally fizzles out and Hotch is back to working on his files and you’re bobbing your head along to your songs. Only now, Aaron sits closer to you, his arm against yours.

He’s not sure what to do with his newfound realization that his feelings for you run far deeper than friendship. All Aaron knows is that he likes the feeling of you beside him, and that he’s planning on keeping you there as long as you’ll let him.

It’s quiet between the two of you aside from your occasional ‘this is a good one,’ and his hum of acknowledgement.

Eventually, you’re relaxed enough that your eyes grow heavy, the sleep you’ve been lacking suddenly catching up to you, and when you hit a patch of slower songs you’re fighting to stay awake.

When your head lulls onto Hotch’s shoulder, you jerk your head up, “sorry, Aaron.”

His chest does something funny. A jump. It’s not often you call him Aaron, and he’d listen to the sound of his name on your lips on a loop if he could. Because he can’t help himself, he scooches himself even closer to you.

He decides to call you something different, too, saying, “it’s alright, honey.”

You’re too sleepy to really read into that one, all you feel is the flutter in your stomach and Aaron’s hand on your head, gently guiding it to his shoulder.

When he’s sure you’re asleep, Hotch looks away from his files and over to you. Your cheek is squished against his shoulder, your lashes fanned shut. He thinks you’re the prettiest girl he’s ever seen.

Aaron doesn’t even feel the smile that spreads over his face as he reaches up and pushes your hair away from your face. He’s completely unaware of the eyes that catch him, far too focused on you.

Emily turned around when she realized she hadn’t heard your voice in a bit, and she did it just in time to catch Hotch’s movement. Instead of saying something, she turns back around and shakes her head to herself.

Hopeless, she thinks.

Sleep doesn’t come so easily with this job, with the things you see, so Aaron can’t help but try and stay steady for you, and if that leads to him letting his eyes close and resting his head on yours, then so be it.

It’s not until the end of the flight that the team checks on the two of you. As everyone stands and grabs their go bags, they notice the two of you, asleep next to each other, earbud wires hanging between you.

“Should we wake them up?” JJ asks.

“Hotch doesn’t get enough sleep as it is,” Spencer chimes in. “Neither does she, actually.”

Of course, Derek finishes with, “let’s leave the lovebirds to it,” before the team gets off the plane.

It’s only about twenty minutes later that Aaron does wake up, but he feels more well-rested than he has in a while, even with the kink in his neck.

Blinking his eyes open, he’s met with an empty jet and the comforting weight of your head on his shoulder. “Shit,” he sighs.

He debates waking you, ultimately deciding that you’d probably rather sleep in your bed rather than the seat of the BAU’s jet. Reaching up, he pulls your earbuds away, setting them on the table. With a brush of his fingertips to your cheek, he coaxed you awake.

“Hey, honey,” Aaron’s nearly whispering, like he’s afraid to scare you. Or, maybe, he’s convinced that if he moves too quickly, too loudly, this whole thing will fade away as if he’d been dreaming. “Wake up, we’re home.”

“Hm?” You grumble, scrunching your nose when he brushes your cheek again.

“We fell asleep, but we landed.”

“Oh, god.” You sit up properly, lifting your head. “I’m sorry, Aaron. Hotch.”

“Aaron is good,” he eases you. “Come on, I’ll drive you.”

Sleep-hazed, or maybe just happy that he can be Aaron to you, you agree easily and take his hand when he offers it, letting him lead you to his car.

You’ve been spending more time at Aaron’s ever since that flight. In the car, he’d convinced you to stay over at his place in the guest room, since it was closer. With your go bag already in his car and heavy, sleepy eyes, it was hard for you to do anything but agree.

It’s another slice of his life that he’s let you see, and you can’t help but feel like it means something, like you’re stepping further and further away from being coworkers who are friends and towards something different. Something more.

That flight feels like the catalyst, the thing that caused things to shift into what they are now.

Aaron’s couch is much more comfortable than yours, and though you’ve yet to spend the night again, you’re sitting there with him at almost every chance. The time off you get is rare, and Aaron wanting to spend it with you sends flutters to your stomach whenever you think about it.

You feel like you know him better, getting to see his space, how he chose to decorate, what colors he likes, which ones he doesn’t. You also know what temperature he likes to set his thermostat.

“Do you enjoy living in a refrigerator?” You ask, hands tucked into your sleeves. “Just wondering.”

Aaron laughs, a small huff, “I think you just run cold, honey.”

He’s been calling you that a lot, too. Honey.

“No way, Hotchner. Your house is what runs cold. Or maybe you’re cold-blooded.”

Not with you, he thinks. Years and years of doing what he does, Hotch might even call himself cold when he’s thinking a little too hard. But never cold with you. He thinks that might be impossible for him.

“Shhh, don’t tell anyone my secret,” he says, his arm brushing against yours from where he sits next to you on his couch. “Where are you cold?”

“Can’t feel my toes, Aaron. I might be out of commission for the next case.”

“Well we can’t lose our best girl, can we?” Best girl, he says. Like he means it, like it’s simple. “I’ve got some thick socks you can grab. Bottom drawer.”

Just like that, he’s cracked another wall of his down even further, giving you permission to go into his bedroom as if you’ve been in there a thousand times.

“Really?”

“Unless you’d rather not feel your toes-“

“Okay, okay,” you stop him, unable to fight your smile. “Thanks, Aaron.”

When you stand and head towards his room, Aaron can’t stop himself from thinking that you belong there, in his home, his room, his life. You fit in so seamlessly he wishes you’d never leave.

He stands up too, because the couch suddenly feels sort of empty without you beside him, without your warmth. He walks over to his thermostat on the wall and turns it up for you.

You’ve always thought that you can tell a lot about a person from where they live, and seeing Aaron’s bedroom now solidifies it. His place does too, but there’s something about his bedroom that feels much more personal.

Here, there’s more of him, little bits of his life scattered around. A picture of him as a kid with his parents on the dresser, the newspaper’s crossword sitting completely finished on his nightstand, his bed neatly made.

You smile at the framed photo before slipping the top drawer open and finding the pair of socks he’d been talking about. As much as you’d love to snoop, you don’t want to invade his privacy in any way. Besides, from Aaron, even a glimpse of his space feels special.

You slip on the socks before you leave his room, letting them bunch at your ankles.

As soon as you walk back into the living room, Aaron’s phone rings. Glancing at you softly, almost apologetically though he’s got nothing to be sorry about—you work with him, you know how important a call can be—he picks it up.

“Hotchner,” he says, holding it to his ear. His voice is different this way, more professional, controlled. Never any less pleasing to hear.

He’d wanted to say something about how good you look in his clothes when his phone rang, Garcia’s name flashing on the screen. Aaron wishes it was someone else, only to spend more time with you this way.

“Sorry to call late, sir,” Penelope says. “We’ve got a case. Missing kid; it’s urgent.”

“Don’t be sorry, Garcia. We’re on our way.”

“Wait, we?” She asks, curious as always.

“What’s going on?” You ask Aaron.

“Got a case. I’ll drive, honey.” He lets the pet name slip, like it’s a habit.

On the other line, Garcia’s grinning to herself in her office. She’d had a suspicion of who on the team Hotch would be with outside of work, and hearing your voice, and his use of the word ‘honey’ all sticky sweet, she knows she’s onto something.

“Oh, that’s ‘we,’” Penelope’s voice teases. “Tell her I’ll see you guys soon!”

Aaron shakes his head, fighting his smile. “Bye, Garcia.”

He hangs up and looks from his phone to you, your eyes already on him, corners of your mouth tugged up just a little like you’d heard what Garcia said, heard the lilt in her voice. Like you liked the idea of you and Aaron being a unit. We.

He likes that idea, too.

Back at the BAU, Garcia calls Derek next, who picks up with his classic, “hey, babygirl.”

First, she tells him that he needs to come into the office, that they’ve got a case, then, “you’re never going to believe this.”

Penelope loves to talk, and Derek’s happy to listen, so she tells him about how you’d been with Aaron when she called, and that you were on your way together.

“I give them another week, max, before they’re holding hands when they come in.” Derek laughs, because he can see yours and Hotch’s feelings so easily, plain as day, and he loves to be right about things.

“How mad will Hotch be when he finds out that we talk about his relationship?” Penelope’s mostly joking, only a fraction concerned.

“If the boss didn’t want us talking about it, he shouldn’t be so obvious, sweetheart.”

Once you arrive at the office, you don’t catch Penelope and Derek’s shared looks behind yours and Aaron’s—who happens to be carrying both his and your go bag—backs.

And if anyone notices the loose socks around your ankles, they don’t say anything about it.

You’re not supposed to go off on your own unless it’s absolutely necessary. You know that, the team knows that. Aaron, who is always trying to keep you as safe as possible, enforces it.

You guess that this time might be up for debate.

When it comes to what you do, you have to trust your instincts most of the time. And today, your gut told you to make a decision that might not have been safe, but to you, it felt like what you had to do.

Aaron had been on the phone with you, trying to figure out a way to make the car drive any faster to get to you. He’d heard it in your voice, in the tone of it, that he couldn’t convince you to wait for someone else to show up.

“I have to do this, Aaron,” you’d said. While the team would normally probably tease him about you calling him Aaron, as if it isn’t his name, they’d known not to interrupt this time. “You know I do.”

“You don’t have to.” His hands tightened on the steering wheel as he spoke. “We’ll be there soon, alright? Just-”

“I’m sorry.” And then, you hung up.

In the end, going in when you did had been the right move. A life had been saved, and you’d slowed the guy down enough that the police were able to arrest him when they arrived. All it cost you was a cut and a bruise on your cheek.

So, your instincts weren’t so bad.

Aaron, however, disagrees. Logically, he knows that he would’ve done the exact same thing you did, knows the rest of the team would’ve, too. But when it comes to you, he has a hard time thinking logically.

After you hung up on him, all he could do was breathe and breathe and breathe over the heavy thumping of his heartbeat and the worry spinning in his head. He drove the quickest he could manage, the car silent inside. A static.

It’s not that he doubts your abilities—he’s always thought you were incredible, even before the friendship, even before now—only that the idea of you being alone with such a bad man makes him feel sick.

He’d take your place in a heartbeat, if he could, just to make sure you’d be safe.

By the time he and the rest of the team get to the scene, you’re walking out of the building with a hand pressed to your cheek and a paramedic leading you to a nearby ambulance.

Aaron spots you right away, his eyes scanning the small crowd through red and blue lights and conversations surrounding him. When he spots you, everything goes quiet.

His first thought is, thank god she’s alive, then, it’s fuck, she’s hurt.

Without a word to anyone, he heads over in your direction right away. He meets you at the ambulance, where you sit on the small bench inside while the paramedic presses your cheek with gauze.

“Honey.” It comes out in a breath. Relief and pain all at once.

You look over to him, his hair a little messy, his eyes wide and roaming all over you like he’s checking for any other injuries. He cares about you, and it’s written all over him.

“Aaron. I’m okay.” You hold a hand out, and he grabs it, sitting beside you on the bench in the ambulance. “Promise.”

For now, he nods, letting the paramedic do their job bandaging up your cheek. When they’re finished, they hand you a spare bandage saying, “it’s gonna bruise, and it might feel sore for a bit, but you’re all patched up.”

The paramedic leaves after that, probably going to check on other people. The lights inside the ambulance seem to cocoon you, a bright difference to the darkness outside.

The first thing Aaron says is, “let me see.”

His hands reach for your face, rough fingertips gently holding your jaw, tilting you so that he can look at your cheek. It’s a little swollen, discolored where you must’ve been hit. There’s a furrow in his brow, something that looks like a pout on none other than Aaron Hotchner.

“Hey,” you grab his wrists, but his hands stay on your face. “I’m fine.”

Aaron’s always worried, he’s always cared about you and about everyone on the team, but this is different. He was usually able to hide things much better than this. Much better than with you.

Now, all he sees is the tiny bloodstain on your shirt and the bandage on your cheek. All he feels is your hands squeezing his wrists and your eyes locked on his.

“You should have waited,” he says. “I could have been there.”

“Hotchner,” your deadpan tone is intact, which he’ll take as a win, even if it’s directed towards him. “You and I both know you would have done the same. I had to.”

One of his hands shifts to cup your non-injured cheek. Normally, he’d be much more composed while working, but he can’t bring himself to care about how he must look right now.

“I know you did,” he tells you, because he does. “I just wish that you didn’t. I don’t like seeing you hurt.”

Your stomach is tumbling, rolling, your heart doing silly things in your chest. You can hardly feel the pain of your cheek anymore when his hand is on the other, his palm warm against your skin, his gaze even warmer.

“I’m hardly hurt, Aaron. Just a scratch.”

“Right. One that required medical attention. That’s more than just a scratch, honey.”

“If you say so, Hotchner.”

He shifts his hands so that they fall into your lap, palms up and fingers instantly finding yours, tangling together perfectly. Like puzzle pieces.

“Good job, by the way.” Hotch rubs his thumb over your skin once, back and forth. “You did the right thing.”

“Learned from the best,” you say.

You’re both oblivious to the fact that the team is watching from a distance, and that the two of you look so lovesick it’s ridiculous that you haven’t spilled your feelings yet. You’re both absolutely fucked.

Where she stands with the team, Emily shakes her head, “I haven’t seen Hotch like this since… ever.”

Beside her, JJ merely shrugs, like it’s obvious, “yeah, they’re in love.”

Spencer looks at you and Aaron in that ambulance with a smile. “The odds of you guys being right are very, very high.”

Aaron Hotchner was never the biggest fan of birthdays. Was never big into the cakes and making wishes, the song and the presents and the fuss of it all.

When he started at the bureau, it stayed that way. Days off were rare enough as it was, so he’d always work on his birthday. And while he kept the signed cards from the team, he treated it as any other day. Nothing special.

This year, you’re on a mission to change that.

While it isn’t the first of Aaron’s birthdays you’ve spent with him, it’s the first one since the two of you have grown as close as you have, since you’ve felt the way you do. You’re just hoping to make it a good birthday for him.

You’ve roped the whole team into it. Decorating the conference room with streamers and balloons and a sign that hangs crooked on the wall, bringing in a cake that reads ‘Happy Birthday Hotch’ in frosting, and keeping it all a secret.

Of course, you’ve all already said happy birthday to him, and you’ve got a present stashed under your desk for later, but you’ve been doing your best to act natural even when the anticipation of your surprise for him eats at your stomach a little.

Surprises are a tricky thing, and there’s no way of knowing whether he’ll like it or not. You’ll just have to wait and see.

While in his office, the team had made it seem like they’d all left for the day, saying their goodbyes to Hotch. Instead of leaving, though, they’ve been hidden in the conference room waiting for you to bring him in.

“Aaron,” you say, knocking on his office door. “I think I lost an earring. Do you think you could help me look for it?”

Because you’re the one asking, Aaron says, “‘course, honey. Where do you think it is?”

You smile, because he’s fallen into your trap easily, because you know that he probably would search for an earring with you if you’d actually lost one.

“I remember having it on in the conference room, so maybe there.”

He stands from his desk, gesturing for you to lead the way with his hand held out. You grab onto it before he can drop it, tangling your fingers and leading him behind you.

Aaron lets you guide him, and when you open the door to the conference room and flick on the lights, he’s met with the team’s grinning faces and a chorus of, “surprise!”

For a moment, he’s speechless, frozen in his spot in the doorway with your hand in his.

No, Aaron’s never been the biggest fan of birthdays, but maybe that’s because nobody’s ever done something like this for him. You came into his life all sweet smiles and now you’re throwing him a surprise party? He’s never ever liked someone the way he likes you.

So much that like is spilling into a four letter word and he’s happy to let it.

You know him well enough to know that he doesn’t like being the center of attention too much, so the only people in the room are those of the BAU. His closest friends. And you, his favorite person.

Before he can say anything he’s being spoken to by the team, getting a ‘happy birthday, boss,’ from Derek, a spill about how hard it was to keep this a secret from Penelope, a grin from Spencer, a tip about how you’d organized all of this from Emily, a squeeze to the shoulder from JJ.

When he finally gets the chance, the others split into their own conversations, Aaron tugs you aside to the corner of the room.

“You did all of this for me?” He asks, head bent to catch your eye.

Although you’d caught the signature Hotchner smile—closed-mouthed and quick—when he saw the surprise, you’re nervous about what he might say. You worry that you’ve done too much, that he’d been pretending to like it for your sake.

“I’m sorry if it’s a bit much,” you start, anxiously tugging at your sleeves. “I wasn’t sure if you liked surprises, I know not everyone does, but I wanted to do something for you because I care about you. A lot. And birthdays are meant to be celebrated, you know?”

Aaron can’t help but let a smile spread over his face as you speak; a real smile. His heart is light, his feelings for you melting through him like the soft pink of cotton candy. He doesn’t think you could ever do anything that he wouldn’t like.

“I’ll clean it all up, too, I prom-”

Your rambling is cut off with his lips on yours. He’s kissing you.

It’s soft, the press of his mouth against yours, and it takes you a second to push back. It stays delicate, a dance between the two of you like you’d practiced a million times before.

His hands skate down your arms to hold your hands, weaving his fingers with yours, squeezing like he’s making sure you know this is real.

You feel it all over, your stomach tumbling, your heart beating in a rhythm that thumps his name. Aaron, Aaron, Aaron, over and over.

It’s a kiss worth a thousand words that you haven’t said yet, a kiss full of feelings and meaning and you know it, just by the way he does it, because you know him and he knows you. It’s you and Aaron, and it feels like the beginning of something huge. Of the rest of your life, maybe.

When he pulls back, Hotch rests his forehead against yours, giving your head a gentle nudge, locking his brown eyes on yours.

“It’s perfect,” he says.

The next thing you hear is Derek Morgan cheering, “I knew it!”

Similar words come from the rest of the team.

“Finally,” from Emily.

“About time,” from JJ.

“This isn’t surprising,” from Spencer, who smiles while saying it.

A sweet, “yay,” from Penelope.

Distracted by Aaron kissing you, you’d sort of forgotten they were there. Bashful, you tuck your head beneath Aaron’s chin, forehead against his collar. He simply tightens his hands around yours.

And when it’s time for cake, this year, Aaron Hotchner makes a wish on his birthday candles. He wishes to spend every other birthday just like this. With you.

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thank you so so much for reading!!! if you liked it, please please please consider reblogging/commenting and letting me know what you thought! love you <3

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