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pesterloglog · 5 months

Text

Karkat Vantas

Act 6, page 4685-4694

CURRENT carcinoGeneticist [CCG] RIGHT NOW opened memo on board FRUITY RUMPUS ASSHOLE FACTORY, BORING ROAD TRIP THROUGH THE FUCKING AFTERLIFE EDITION.

CCG: I CAN'T BELIEVE I'M ACTUALLY DOING THIS MEMO BULLSHIT AGAIN.

CCG: I GUESS I DON'T KNOW WHAT ELSE TO DO.

CCG: I JUST NEED TO AIR OUT SOME SHIT WITH SOMEBODY, AND EVERYONE HERE HAS THEIR HEADS SO FAR UP THEIR NOOKS I WANT TO SCREAM LOUDER THAN I USUALLY DO.

CCG: THEIR TROLL NOOKS *AND* HUMAN NOOKS, WHATEVER THE HELL A HUMAN NOOK EVEN *IS*.

CCG: YOU KNOW?

CCG: HEY, ARE YOU THERE?

FUTURE carcinoGeneticist [FCG] 10 MINUTES FROM NOW responded to memo.

FCG: FUCK. FUCK. FUCK. FUCK. FUCK.

CCG: OH...

CCG: HEY

FCG: I CAN'T

FCG: I JUST CANNOT

FCG: *FUCKING*

FCG: ***BELIEVE***

FCG: I HAVE TO GO THROUGH ALL THIS BULLSHIT AGAIN WITH YOU/ME.

FCG: WHAT THE FUCK MADE ME THINK THIS WOULD BE A GOOD IDEA???

CCG: DUDE, WHAT'S WITH THE TEXT?

FCG: UUUUUGH.

FCG: WHY DON'T YOU TELL ME!

FCG: I JUST HAVE THIS INCREDIBLE PREMONITION YOU'RE ABOUT TO ANYWAY.

CCG: WHY THE FUCK WOULD I KNOW WHY YOU CHANGED YOUR TEXT RED!

CCG: WE DON'T DO THAT. THE SHOWY, SELF-ABSORBED "PAINT YOUR TEXT IN YOUR BLOOD COLOR" THING. OR EYE COLOR, OR WHATEVER.

CCG: IT'S FOR ATTENTION-GREEDY, INSECURE LOSERS.

FCG: SURE IS!

CCG: HMM.

FCG: ?????? <- SARCASTIC WONDER.

CCG: I'M JUST THINKING

CCG: THIS REALLY MAKES OUR CONVERSATIONS EASIER TO READ.

CCG: REMEMBER THOSE INSANE BLOCKS OF GRAY ANGRY TEXT WE USED TO WRITE TOGETHER.

CCG: WHAT WAS THAT

CCG: LIKE HALF A SWEEP AGO ALREADY?

CCG: IS IT WEIRD THAT I'M ACTUALLY LOOKING BACK ON ALL THAT INSANITY WITH A CERTAIN AMOUNT OF FONDNESS?

CCG: AT LEAST SHIT WAS HAPPENING.

CCG: IT'S SO BORING OUT HERE. AND LIVING WITH THE HUMANS IS JUST GETTING KIND OF

CCG: WEIRD.

CCG: ANYWAY, THIS IS ACTUALLY A LOT MORE DECIPHERABLE. MAYBE YOU'RE ON TO SOMETHING.

FCG: WELL HEY, CHECK IT OUT: SHIT JUST GOT NOSTALGIC.

FCG: LOOK AT THAT, I'M FEELING MORE SENTIMENTAL ABOUT THIS MORONIC CONVERSATION ALREADY.

CCG: OK, WHY DO YOU HAVE TO GO FROM ZERO TO DOUCHE LIKE IN THE BLINK OF A FUCKING GLANCE NUGGET.

FCG: THE BLINK OF A GLANCE NUGGET?? I'VE BEEN AT THIS FOR TEN MINUTES ALREADY. AND COUNTING!

CCG: I JUST THINK YOU MIGHT HAVE BEEN ON TO SOMETHING WITH THE RED TEXT. I WAS TRYING TO PAY YOU A COMPLIMENT YOU ANTAGONIZING FUCK.

CCG: I MEAN, WE ONLY EVER GOT IN THE HABIT OF TYPING IN GRAY TO HIDE OUR BLOOD COLOR, RIGHT?

CCG: AND LIKE, 1) EVERYBODY KNOWS IT NOW, IT WAS THE WORST KEPT FUCKING SECRET EVER, AND 2) EVEN IF THEY DIDN'T, IT'S JUST US HERE, AND OBVIOUSLY WE'VE BOTH ALREADY KNOWN IT ALL OUR LIVES

CCG: UNLESS WE'RE BOTH SO NEUROTIC WE ACTUALLY STILL WANT TO ACT LIKE ITS A SECRET WE'RE KEEPING FROM EACH OTHER...

CCG: BUT I'D LIKE TO THINK THE DAYS OF THAT ASTOUNDING DEGREE OF MENTAL ILLNESS ARE BEHIND US!

FCG: (I WANT TO KILL MYSELF, BUT I CAN'T UNTIL THE CONVERSATION RUNS ITS COURSE. THIS IS THE WORST HELL IMAGINABLE.)

CCG: SHUT THE FUCK UP. THAT'S THE EXACT KIND OF MELODRAMA I'M TALKING ABOUT, WE'RE BETTER THAN THAT NOW MAN.

CCG: I'M GONNA DO THE *MATURE* THING HERE: AND SWITCH MY TEXT TO RED.

CCG: THERE. I THINK THIS SHOULD BE THE UNIVERSAL CONVENTION FOR WHEN TWO OF THE SAME PEOPLE ARE TALKING TO EACH OTHER.

CCG: ONE GUY BITES THE BULLET AND TALKS IN RED.

CCG: SERIOUSLY, ONE OF US HAS TO BE THE GROWN UP HERE.

FCG: OH! I GET IT NOW.

FCG: WHEN I TYPE IN RED, IT'S SHOWY AND INSECURE, BUT WHEN YOU DO IT, YOU ARE SHOULDERING THE PRAGMATIC BURDEN OF A MARTYR, EVEN THOUGH IT WAS *MY* FUCKING IDEA TO DO THAT IN THE FIRST PLACE TEN MINUTES AGO!

FCG: YOU PIECE OF SHIT.

CCG: OK!!! GOD DAMMIT, STOP BEING SO SENSITIVE. I FUCKING APOLOGIZE.

FCG: CAN YOU JUST TALK ABOUT YOUR STUPID FEELINGS ALREADY SO WE CAN GET THIS NIGHTMARE OVER WITH.

CCG: WELL LOOK, IT WASN'T SUPPOSED TO BE THIS LOPSIDED THING WHERE I SPILL ALL MY FEELINGS INTO IDIOTSPACE WHILE SOME SHIT HEAD YELLS AT ME.

CCG: I WAS KIND OF THINKING THERE WOULD BE SOME GIVE AND TAKE, SINCE YOU PRESUMABLY SHARE A LOT OF MY THOUGHTS??

FCG: OK WHATEVER. JUST SAY SOME STUFF ALREADY. ALL THAT SHIT I SAID TEN MINUTES AGO.

FCG: I WILL "RIFF" WITH YOU AND SOMEHOW PRETEND IT DOESN'T FEEL LIKE I'M REHASHING A BUNCH OF LINES WRITTEN IN BARELY DRIED INK!!!

CCG: OK

CCG: WELL

CCG: I'M HAVING A HARD TIME EVEN PUTTING MY THOUGHTS INTO WORDS ABOUT THIS BIZARRE TREK THROUGH THE RING.

CCG: AT FIRST IT WAS JUST BLAND AND UNEVENTFUL. BUT THAT WAS KIND OF A RELIEF, REMEMBER?

CCG: NOT HAVING TO WORRY ABOUT GETTING KILLED ALL THE TIME, OR TRYING TO RALLY A BUNCH OF UNCOOPERATIVE TROOPS TOWARD AN IMPOSSIBLE OBJECTIVE.

FCG: YEAH.

CCG: BUT THEN

CCG: AS IF IT WASN'T ENOUGH THAT SOMETIMES WE VISIT THESE CRAZY DREAM BUBBLES WHEN WE GO TO SLEEP...

CCG: WE STARTED PHYSICALLY PASSING THROUGH THEM TOO.

CCG: LIKE I THINK I COULD HANDLE IT BETTER IF IT WAS JUST ONE THING OR THE OTHER.

CCG: LIKE *ONLY* THE MONOTONOUS DAY TO DAY DRUDGERY ON THE SAME GLOOMY FUCKING METEOR WITH THE SAME BUNCH OF RIDICULOUS PEOPLE, AND BASICALLY NOTHING TO DO EVER EXCEPT GET ALL UP IN EACH OTHER'S BUSINESS.

CCG: OR *ONLY* A SWEEPS LONG SAFARI THROUGH AN EPHEMERAL REALM OF GHOST MEMORIES AND DEAD FRIENDS SHITTING AROUND IN A HAPHAZARD EXISTENTIAL CLUSTERFUCK.

CCG: BUT HAVING TO DEAL WITH BOTH, IN TOTALLY RANDOM INTERVALS?

CCG: IT'S KIND OF TAKING ITS TOLL.

FCG: "I HEAR YOU MAN."

FCG: THAT WAS WHEN I WAS SUPPOSED TO SAY THAT.

FCG: BUT FOR THE RECORD, I GUESS I MEANT IT.

CCG: YEAH.

CCG: I MEAN, DON'T GET ME WRONG.

CCG: I MISS ALL OF MY DEAD FRIENDS A LOT.

CCG: EVEN THE ASSHOLES! I MISS THEM TOO. MAYBE EVEN ESPECIALLY THEM, IN SOME PERVERSE WAY.

CCG: AND I SHOULD BE RELIEVED THAT THEY ALL SEEM TO BE HAPPY IN SOME WAY, EVEN IF IT'S BY FLOATING NEBULOUSLY THROUGH DREAM PROJECTIONS WITH THEIR FREAKY BLANK EYES.

CCG: AND I GUESS I AM RELIEVED ABOUT THAT.

CCG: BUT AT THE SAME TIME IT'S LEFT ME UNSETTLED.

CCG: FOR REASONS I CAN'T REALLY PUT MY FINGER ON.

FCG: I KNOW WHY.

CCG: YOU DO?

FCG: YEAH.

CCG: WELL OF COURSE YOU DO.

CCG: I GUESS BECAUSE I JUST TOLD YOU TEN MINUTES AGO, MAKING IT LIKE A SELF-FULFILLING EPIPHANY??

FCG: WELL THERE'S THAT

FCG: BUT ALSO THIS CONVERSATION HELPED CLARIFY SOME THOUGHTS TOO, IN SPITE OF ITS EXCRUCIATING POINTLESSNESS.

FCG: PART OF WHAT'S BOTHERING YOU ABOUT THIS IS WHAT IT MEANS ABOUT MORTALITY.

CCG: YEAH

CCG: I THINK THAT'S PART OF IT.

CCG: AFTER VISITING WHO KNOWS HOW MANY DREAM BUBBLES

CCG: AND HANGING OUT WITH WHO KNOWS HOW MANY DEAD FRIENDS, AND *COPIES* OF DEAD FRIENDS FROM ALTERNATE TIMELINES...

CCG: I START TO WONDER, DOES DEATH EVEN REALLY MEAN ANYTHING?

CCG: DID LIFE MEAN ANYTHING, FOR THAT MATTER??

CCG: WAS THE POINT OF LIFE TO JUST GO AROUND COLLECTING A BUNCH OF PAINFUL AND AWKWARD EXPERIENCES TO SUPPLY MATERIAL FOR THE REVOLVING MEMORY-COLLAGE THAT SERVES AS THE BACKDROP TO A MUCH LONGER, EMPTIER STRETCH OF EXISTENCE?

CCG: AND HOW UNNERVING IS IT RUNNING INTO OUR DEAD DOPPELGANGERS FROM DOOMED TIMELINES?

FCG: HEY, YOU'RE PREACHING TO THE CHOIR, BRO.

CCG: IT'S FUCKED UP.

CCG: NEVER MIND WHAT IT MEANS ABOUT A PERSON'S IDENTITY OR SENSE OF SELF, OR WHICH GUY GETS TO BE CONSIDERED "THE REAL GUY" OR PHILOSOPHICAL BULLSHIT LIKE THAT.

CCG: JUST ON THE LEVEL OF WHAT YOUR DECISIONS AND ACTIONS DURING YOUR LIFE ACTUALLY MEAN.

CCG: SOMETIMES WE RUN INTO THESE VERSIONS OF OURSELVES WHO REACHED GOD TIER FOR FUCK'S SAKE.

CCG: BUT IN SPITE OF BEING *MORE* SUCCESSFUL THAN WE WERE, BY THAT PARTICULAR OBJECTIVE MEASURE

CCG: THEY GET PUNISHED FOR THAT, BECAUSE IT WASN'T "THE THING THAT NEEDED TO HAPPEN"??

FCG: PRETTY MUCH.

CCG: SO WHERE DOES THAT LEAVE US?

CCG: IF WE ARE TO TAKE SOME LESSON FROM THAT, WHAT IS IT!

CCG: "TRY TO BE GREAT AND SUCCESSFUL, BUT MAYBE NOT TOOOO GREAT AND SUCCESSFUL?"

CCG: OR MAYBE DON'T TRY AT ALL IN SOME CASES! BECAUSE IF YOU DO, SOME GIANT FUCKING SQUID IN THE MIDDLE OF NOWHERE IS GOING TO BE LIKE, NOT SO FAST, MY HIDEOUS MONSTER PLANS BEG TO DIFFER.

CCG: DON'T YOU THINK WE'D HAVE BEEN BETTER OFF IF WE DIDN'T EVEN KNOW ABOUT ANY OF THIS DREAM BUBBLE SHIT?

FCG: WELL.

FCG: YEAH.

FCG: THAT'S WHAT I WAS THINKING TEN MINUTES AGO.

FCG: BUT NOW I DON'T EVEN KNOW.

CCG: YEAH, WELL AT LEAST YOU'RE LISTENING. EVEN IF YOU WERE BEING YOUR USUAL SHITTY SELF ABOUT IT.

CCG: NOBODY ELSE EVEN GETS THIS, THEY DON'T WANT TO HEAR IT.

CCG: LIKE TEREZI?

CCG: IT USED TO BE THAT SHE WOULD AT LEAST HUMOR EVEN MY MOST LUDICROUS, VITRIOLIC GARBAGE ALL THE TIME.

CCG: REMEMBER THOSE DAYS?

CCG: WAY BACK BEFORE WE EVEN KNEW WHAT A HUMAN WAS.

CCG: BACK ON ALTERNIA WHEN MY BIGGEST FEAR WAS IF PEOPLE FOUND OUT I WAS A MUTANT. HOW QUAINT CAN YOU FUCKING GET?

CCG: I WAS AN IDIOT NOT TO UNDERSTAND HOW GOOD THINGS WERE BACK THEN.

CCG: BETWEEN US.

CCG: NOW IT'S LIKE...

FCG: SDJS;ALSKJFSA;JK

CCG: WHAT?

FCG: THIS PART OF THE CONVERSATION.

CCG: OH GET OVER YOURSELF, OUR TEN MINUTES IS ALMOST UP.

CCG: I WOULD JUST LIKE TO KNOW.

CCG: IS SHE PUNISHING ME FOR SOMETHING?

CCG: I DON'T NEED TO REMIND YOU HOW MUCH TIME SHE SPENDS GALLIVANTING AROUND THE METEOR WITH YOU KNOW WHO.

FCG: NO YOU SURE AS FUCK DO NOT.

CCG: AFTER ALL THIS TIME I *STILL* CAN'T TELL IF SHE'S SERIOUS ABOUT THAT, OR DOING IT TO FUCK WITH ME.

CCG: WHAT DO YOU THINK? IS THERE SOMETHING LEGITIMATELY RED GOING ON THERE?

CCG: HOW CAN I COMMAND SUCH ABSOLUTE MASTERY OVER THE ROMANTIC SCIENCES YET REMAIN PERPLEXED BY THIS???

CCG: MAYBE I CAN'T GET A READ BECAUSE HE'S NOT A TROLL, AND THEREFORE HAS NO IDEA WHAT THE FUCK HE'S DOING?

CCG: IT'S LIKE TRYING TO DECIPHER AN INTRICATE COURTSHIP PROCESS BETWEEN AN ATTRACTIVE POTENTIAL MATESPRIT, AND SOME SORT OF VEGETABLE.

CCG: LIKE IT DOESN'T COMPUTE.

FCG: FUCK, THIS IS SO EMBARRASSING LISTENING TO THIS, MAKE IT STOP.

CCG: QUIET, I'M TALKING.

CCG: I JUST FEEL LIKE MAYBE I'M PAST THE POINT OF NO RETURN WITH HER.

CCG: WHERE BEFORE THERE WAS MARGIN FOR ERROR, PROBABLY WAY MORE THAN I EVER DESERVED.

CCG: AND NOW THAT'S IT. SHE'S TOTALLY HAD IT, AND THERE'S A NEW DUDE WITH CANDYBLOOD IN TOWN.

CCG: HE'S JUST GOT IT ALL, DOESN'T HE? HE'S A MUCH BETTER ARTIST THAN I AM, FOR ONE THING.

CCG: AND HIS HORNS ARE SO NUBBY, THEY DON'T EVEN EXIST! TALK ABOUT HITTING THE JACKPOT.

CCG: AM I OFF BASE??

FCG: WE JUST WENT OVER THIS.

FCG: I DIDN'T GET IT THEN BECAUSE I WAS TOO BUSY WHINING AND FEELING SORRY FOR MYSELF LIKE YOU'RE DOING NOW SO PIPE DOWN AND LISTEN.

FCG: YOU'VE BEEN SENDING HER AN ENDLESS STREAM OF MIXED SIGNALS FOR AS LONG AS YOU'VE KNOWN HER.

CCG: OH BULLSHIT.

FCG: LIKE FUCK IT'S BULLSHIT.

FCG: IT'S ALL TOO CLEAR TO ME NOW. IT'S A CLASSIC CASE OF QUADRANT VACILLATION, AND YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW IT.

FCG: NO WONDER SHE WAS FRUSTRATED AND GOT FED UP WITH YOU.

CCG: THIS IS OUTRAGEOUS.

FCG: IS IT?? TELL ME, HOW MANY TIMES HAVE YOU TREATED HER IN A WAY THAT COULD BE OBJECTIVELY CONSTRUED AS A FORM OF BLACK SOLICITATION?

CCG: THAT'S JUST

CCG: NO, THAT'S HOW WE'VE ALWAYS ROLLED TOGETHER. IT'S LIKE

CCG: SPIRITED PLATONIC CONTENTION.

CCG: TOTALLY NORMAL TERRITORY IN A HEALTHY MATESPRITSHIP.

FCG: YEAH, A *HEALTHY* ONE, NOT ONE INVOLVING A DEMENTED LOUDMOUTH WHO CAN'T KEEP HIS SHIT UNDER CONTROL.

FCG: LET ME ASK YOU, HOW MUCH OF THAT ANIMOSITY IS INNOCENT "PLATONIC RAGE"?

FCG: COULD IT BE THAT SUBCONSCIOUSLY YOU WANT TO PUSH THINGS WITH HER ONTO CALIGINOUS TURF, MAYBE SEE HOW THINGS WORK OUT THERE?

FCG: SEE IF YOU CAN HAVE YOUR GRUB, AND CULL IT TOO??

FCG: THAT WAY YOU HAVE HER ALL TO YOURSELF!

CCG: FUCK YOU.

FCG: YOU WANT HER IN EVERY QUADRANT LIKE A DESPERATE FOOL.

FCG: DO YOU REALIZE WHAT YOU'VE BECOME? YOU ARE THE SAD JOKE CHARACTER IN THE ROMCOM, YOU KNOW THE GUY I'M TALKING ABOUT.

FCG: WHO'S GREEDY AND INDISCRIMINATE ABOUT FILLING EVERY QUADRANT, TOTALLY OBLIVIOUS TO IT, AND IN THE END HAS FUCKALL TO SHOW FOR IT.

CCG: I DON'T HAVE TO PUT UP WITH THIS.

FCG: YOU KIND OF DO, FOR AT LEAST ANOTHER TEN MINUTES.

CCG: NO, FUCK THAT, I'M SO DONE WITH YOU.

FCG: YEAH, YOU PRETTY MUCH ARE, BECAUSE THE TEN MINUTES ARE ABOUT UP, AND I'LL BE GONE.

FCG: THEN IT'LL JUST BE YOU AND THE OTHER GUY, SPINNING YOUR GLOBES TOGETHER LIKE A COUPLE STUPID PIECES OF SHIT, AD INFINITUM.

CCG: MAN, I MUST HAVE BEEN INSANE TO THINK ANYTHING IS DIFFERENT.

CCG: YOU HAVEN'T CHANGED AT ALL, YOU'RE JUST AS PETTY AND HORRIBLE AS EVER.

CCG: FUCK YOU FOREVER. FUCK EVERY TEN-MINUTES-AHEAD VERSION OF MYSELF ALL THE WAY INTO TEN-MINUTE-FUCKING-ETERNITY.

FCG: I CAN'T EVEN DO THIS, NOT ANY MORE.

CCG: YEAH, WELL YOU MADE YOUR COCOON, PAL. NOW WE HAVE TO TAKE TURNS SHITTING IN IT, TOGETHER. IT IS THE MOST PATHETIC, SMELLIEST DANCE OF ALL.

FCG: HMM.

CCG: WHAT THE FUCK IS IT NOW?

FCG: IT JUST OCCURRED TO ME

FCG: THIS DUMB TANTRUM I THREW

FCG: THIS ENTIRE BAD MOOD...

FCG: IT WAS JUST ANOTHER IDIOTIC SELF-FULFILLING REACHAROUND WASN'T IT.

CCG: WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT??

FCG: I MEAN, WHERE DID THIS EVEN COME FROM?

FCG: IT WAS LIKE SPONTANEOUSLY GENERATING SELF-LOATHING WITH NO DISCERNIBLE SOURCE.

FCG: WAS THIS EMOTIONAL OUTBURST EVER EVEN REAL?

CCG: OH NO, DON'T EVEN START WITH THAT.

CCG: DO *NOT* START GETTING EXISTENTIAL ABOUT MY ANGER.

CCG: YOU BETTER FUCKING BELIEVE THIS IS REAL.

FCG: ARE YOU SURE, MAN?

CCG: ASLKJSDKLSDLFHJSIKLKLSDGNKL

CCG: YOU CONDESCENDING FUCK.

CCG: HOW

CCG: FUUUUUUUUUUUSDLIHLYUUIFHIERGFSHDJKBGJKSUUUUUCKING

CCG: **********DAAAARE**********

CCG: YOU CALL INTO QUESTION THE LEGITIMACY OF MY FEELINGS, AS IF THEY AREN'T COMPLETELY JUSTIFIED AND TOTALLY 100% GROUNDED IN

CCG: *ABSOLUTE*

CCG: ~*=STONE COLD CONCRETE GOD DAMNED=*~

CCG: **********

CCG: OBJECTIVE.

CCG: MOTHER.

CCG: FUCKING.

CCG: REALITY.

CCG: **********

FCG: YEAH, SEE

FCG: I'VE COMPLETELY SET YOU OFF HERE, AND NOW YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT YOU'RE SAYING.

FCG: SORRY, THIS WAS MY FAULT. I'M GOING TO GO TRY AND CALM MYSELF DOWN.

CCG: OH, SO THIS IS WHY YOU DECIDE TO LEAVE THIS CONVERSATION???

CCG: YOU GOT OWNED, SO YOU HAD TO SLINK AWAY LIKE A FUCKING COWARD??????

CCG: NICE TRY SHIT HEAD, BUT I'M NOT DONE WITH YOU YET. YOU THINK YOU'RE THE ONLY ONE WHO CAN LIST HIS 10-MINUTE-AWAY-SELF'S FLAWS??

CCG: I COULD GO ON FOREVER!

FCG banned himself from responding to memo.

CCG: FINE, GET OUT OF HERE! GOOD RIDDANCE!

CCG: AS IF I COULD TAKE ANOTHER SPONGE WRINGING MINUTE OF YOUR DISINGENUOUS DRIVEL.

PAST carcinoGeneticist [PCG] 10 MINUTES AGO opened memo on board FRUITY RUMPUS ASSHOLE FACTORY, BORING ROAD TRIP THROUGH THE FUCKING AFTERLIFE EDITION.

PCG: I CAN'T BELIEVE I'M ACTUALLY DOING THIS MEMO BULLSHIT AGAIN.

PCG: I GUESS I DON'T KNOW WHAT ELSE TO DO.

PCG: I JUST NEED TO AIR OUT SOME SHIT WITH SOMEBODY, AND EVERYONE HERE HAS THEIR HEADS SO FAR UP THEIR NOOKS I WANT TO SCREAM LOUDER THAN I USUALLY DO.

PCG: THEIR TROLL NOOKS *AND* HUMAN NOOKS, WHATEVER THE HELL A HUMAN NOOK EVEN *IS*.

PCG: YOU KNOW?

PCG: HEY, ARE YOU THERE?

CURRENT carcinoGeneticist [CCG] RIGHT NOW responded to memo.

CCG: FUCK. FUCK. FUCK. FUCK. FUCK.

CCG: OH...

CCG: HEY

CCG: I CAN'T

CCG: I JUST CANNOT

CCG: *FUCKING*

CCG: ***BELIEVE***

CCG: I HAVE TO GO THROUGH ALL THIS BULLSHIT AGAIN WITH YOU/ME.

CCG: WHAT THE FUCK MADE ME THINK THIS WOULD BE A GOOD IDEA???

PCG: DUDE, WHAT'S WITH THE TEXT?

CCG: UUUUUGH.

CCG: WHY DON'T YOU TELL ME!

CCG: I JUST HAVE THIS INCREDIBLE PREMONITION YOU'RE ABOUT TO ANYWAY.

#homestuck #karkat vantas #homestuck act 6 #page 4685 #page 4686 #page 4687 #page 4688 #page 4689 #page 4690 #page 4691 #page 4692 #page 4693 #page 4694 #homestuck act 6 intermission 2

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solsticeofsolar · 2 months

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Rosella @cherie.crossing //DA: 4687-0147-1791

This island made me feel like I was in a Sakura wedding. I love cherry blossom season and this dream was beautiful.

#animal crossing #acnh blog #gaming #nintendo #acnh screenshots #solsticeofsolar #acnh dream address #acnh da #nintendo acnh #acnh switch #acnh gif #acnh qr #acnh community

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hermionewrites · 7 months

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Invaluable

THIS IS UNIMPORTANT PART 2!!!!!!!

summary: your boss finally realises what you mean, and how he feels. warnings: smoking, drinking, sexual situations (not smut!) a/n: this is based on that time aaron SNATCHES that cigarette out of the unsubs mouth and it’s hot. If you want a smut part please comment or leave a thing in my inbox. love ya <3

wordcount: 4687

The next few weeks nothing had changed between you and your boss since his confession of you being important to the team. But at the same time, everything had. He had become less dismissive once you handed him the usual bitter black coffee he gets. Instead of the usual “Thank You,” just thrown your way without a sparing glance.

Now, you were still thanked. However, he turned his head towards you, making eye contact for a slightly lingering moment before continuing on with the case and turning back to the drawing board. It was pity, you assumed. Pity for the fact that you had almost been shot and killed in a police precinct bathroom.

Another small change was the way he asked for things. He had went from harshly barking orders at you to have papers ready, collect that box of files, prep the interrogation room. To coming up to you directly, asking you quietly and politely.

On the other hand, something completely different, never happened before, your boss, Aaron Hotchner had brought you a coffee on the jet. Albeit, the rest of the team were passed out in a deep sleep. Em had her head rested on JJ’s shoulder as they slept together. Spencer had a book over his face and Morgan had his music playing in his ears.

“You’re not sleeping?” He asked as he bent down to place the coffee on the small table in-front of you. Lifting it up you take a scalding sip from the mug. Boiling hot, burning your tongue but exactly how you liked it.

“How do you know which way I like my coffee?” You ask, the shock evident in your tone and get given pointed look because the answer to that was obvious. “I can’t sleep when something is moving, car, train, private jet.” Your mouth quirks up at the last one. You see him nod in understanding and he makes his way back to his seat and to bury his nose back into the files. “Thank you.” You whisper out loud enough for him to hear but not enough to wake the team.

The rest of the flight back to Quantico was peaceful. Silence after a long and hard case was always welcome, the calm after the storm.

Silky sheets caress your legs as the loud blaring of your alarm rings in your ears. The orange beginnings of daylight peek through a small gap through the curtains. Rolling over, the blue light from your phone glares in your eyes. New email. Meeting at 8:30. Urgent.

One thing you hated about your boss was his inability to elaborate when things were important. Rushing to get ready and throwing your work clothes on as fast as possible, your mind races. Skimming over every mistake you had made in the past few months that could lead to you getting fired. Or anything the rest of the team could have done to prompt an urgent meeting.

Arriving at the office the rest of the team stand in the bullpen, equally confused.

“Do you know what’s going on?” Emily asks you as you join the huddle at her desk.

“No idea.” You reply with a shrug and the six of you turn to look up into Hotch’s office. He has the landline up to his ear and seems to be talking intensely to the person on the other end. “What do you think that’s about?”

“No idea.” Spencer echoes your words from earlier. “He doesn’t look happy though.”

Then without a word Hotch opens his office door and with no more than a nod, orders you to the conference room. It wasn’t unusual for him to look that way. Stoic, serious and unmoving.

“We’re all fired.” Pen squeaked out with a determined nod. She then marched up to the conference room, the rest of you following in her stead.

The conference room was not a stranger to long intense silence. It usually happened when one of the team had made a mistake that Strauss wouldn’t let go. Usually a mistake that your unit chief’s job was put on the line for. Hotch is sitting when you enter.

“Have we got a case?” Derek asks with a nod to the remote in Hotch’s hand. The screen behind him lit up and he stood up.

“Not exactly.” A look of disgust was commonly shared around the circular table at hearing about the heinous crimes that the team solved regularly. However, a look of panic, was rare and was prominent at what Hotch said next. “We have been invited to the FBI christmas gala.” Groans and eye rolls were shared around the table.

“We are on orders from Strauss to not take any new cases until after the event,” He continued, “As we are most likely going to revive an award.”

“When is it?” JJ asks, her chin in her hands and her hair falls over her face.

“Next Friday. We all get a plus one.” Hotch finishes and gets up, striding out of the conference room and back to his office to stare at more files until late in the evening.

“You know what this means ladies.” Penelope starts, her body pretty much vibrating with excitement. “Dress shopping!” The huge smile on her face made everything more bearable. At least one of you was excited.

A few days later the girls and you were standing in some high-end boutique, browsing the multiple colours of dresses. Racks upon racks of different cuts, shapes and lengths are everywhere. Penelope was rushing through them at a speed you'd never seen, picking out what she thought would look best on the three of you.

"Em, you just have to wear red!" She gushes and hands Emily a stack of different shades of red. "Go try them on." Pen gives her a shove toward the fitting rooms. "Same for you." She says to JJ, her pile filled with a variety of blues, pinks and purples.

They both come out one at a time, showing you and Pen all of the dresses she had specifically picked out. Naturally, Pen loved every single one they came out in, smiling every time. Until they both came out at the same time and she let out a dramatic gasp.

Emily was wearing a deep red velvet dress that came down to her ankles and was tight-fitted down her body. JJ's was light pink with light lace flowers all over in lace. It flared out from her hips and draped over her legs. "Those. Are. Perfect." She squealed at the pair as they both did a spin. They both blushed at your and Pen's extensive compliments about how well the dresses fit them.

"You guys look amazing!" You say from your seat and Emily's look turns from appreciative to mischievous.

"Now it's your turn," Emily smirks and she and JJ take their place on the plush bench that you and Pen were just perched on. JJ hands you the pile of perfectly curated dresses Penelope had picked out for you, in many different colours. You pick out all of the colourful ones and leave them on the bench. You catch the girls confused looks.

"While a gala is a break for you, I'm still on the clock." You explain and shake the black dresses in your hands. "I have a dress code, black only." You watch Penelope's face drop.

"But, that green one would look so good." She says, obviously disappointed you wouldn't get to wear the one she had envisioned you in. "Try it on for me?" She asks and gives you a look you couldn't resist.

"After, I find my one for the night." You put emphasis on after as your friend was not one for patience.

A few dresses later, varying reactions from the girls as you came out. Some 'oohs' and 'ehhs' gave you a clear opinion of what they thought. Penelope had found her dress almost instantly, it was a silky champagne with black lace over the bust. Finally, you had thought you had found the one. It was black, of course, and didn't come down too low at the bust, stopping just before inappropriate. The fabric stopped at the floor and didn't restrict your walking movement.

"Oh, that's lovely," JJ says as you pull the curtain back to reveal yourself to them.

"That is the one!" Penelope jumps up and gives you a hug.

"I think I'm all dressed out." Emily slumps against the wall as you make your way to get changed back into your normal clothes and bag up your dress of choice.

Making your way to the till, you all pay for your dresses and head your separate ways home.

The fateful day had finally come. Hours upon hours of explaining that you are not a profiler to a part of the BAU team but their PA. Then having to listen for hours upon hours on why the BAU was favoured by the director as they had a private jet and a PA. Looking good was crucial if you were a benefit, you had better be a good-looking one.

If the dress had to be black and plain with a simple shape and a boring unappealing neckline. You'd dress it up with dainty jewellery and amazingly high heels in a matching black. You had turned a simple dress that was gathering dust in the back of the racks into a sublime sleek look. The ding from your phone catch’s your attention as you grab your clutch.

It read ‘We’re outside’ and quickly you smooth down your hair one last time and make your way out of the apartment building, seeing the girls waiting in one of the SUV’s for you. Emily at the wheel with Jj in the passenger seat and Penelope in the back.

“You look stunning!” Penelope shouts from the window as you walk towards the car and you can’t help but produce a huge smile on your face.

“So do all of you.” You say as you shut the car door behind you. The drive to the venue wasn’t long, small talk being the main focus of the conversation.

“Are any of you looking for a man tonight?” Jj asks, a smirk on her face. She had brought Will as her plus one and he was currently residing in the men’s car who were trailing not too far behind them. “Or woman.” She adds, casting a small glance at Em.

“If something happens, it happens.” Emily says with a shrug, knowing that she would be approached many a time during the night.

“I’m fine with my chocolate thunder.” Pen says, her face lighting up. “But you never know.” A few hums of agreement echo around the car. “And what about you, beautiful creature of the night?” Penelope asks.

“I’m working.” It was a short answer but you didn’t miss the simultaneous eye rolls of the three others. “What was that?” You ask with a scoff, looking between the three of them.

“Oh yes. ‘Working’” Pen says, “Until you go out for a smoke.” She smirks as she says this.

“You’re just jealous it works.” You snark back, as you pull up the the grand hotel that the gala was being held in. “I am now officially on the clock.” You say, getting out of the car and opening the doors for all of the girls. At the same moment the men’s car pulls up behind you. You do the same for each of them. Each of them thank you as you open their car doors.

“I hate treating you like this, you’re our friend not our employee.” Spencer complains as you walk in on his arm. “It feels strange.”

“It’s one night. And technically I am, your employee.” You smile up at him. “Your assistant.” The room you were in was huge, the carpet was a deep red plush, the cushions on the chairs matching. The ceilings held up by marble stone pillars that towered over everyone.

You and the BAU find their way to their large circular table in the middle of the room. Not a single corner of solitude where they could not be observed by the rest of the FBI. They place their, clutches and Jackets on the table and you turn to them.

“Drinks?” You ask looking around the table.

“You don’t have to.” Derek starts but you cut him off with a hand wave.

“I am being paid.” You say sternly, “Drinks?” You ask with a stubborn tone. “The usual?” You continue and receive nods from around the table. Making your way to the bar you rattle off the teams orders. “A whisky on the rocks, a neat whisky, two glasses of house red, a glass of house white, two jack and cokes and a lemonade. Please.” You receive a nod and wait for the poor bartender the make all of those drinks. “Oh and a tray please!”

You weren’t a stranger to the looks of envy from other departments as you carried the tray of drinks to the table. Or from the patrons stood at the bar fetching their own drinks.

“I come bearing gifts.” You say and hand out their drinks accordingly around the table. Whiskey on the rocks for Rossi. Near whiskey for Hotch. House red for Jj and Emily. House white for Pen. Jack and coke for Derek and Will and a lemonade for Spencer. “Now go socialise, you important people.” You say and they disperse around the room in pairs to go and talk to the other agents. That was your queue was to go and stand in the corner of the room as all of the people who thought better of themselves, boasted about their achievements in the field and out of it.

It took thirty minutes until it was announced it was time for dinner and all of the patrons made their way to the assigned seats. Wait staff flew out of every door, brining everyone the meal they had chosen a week prior. And that was your cue to go for a smoke.

It was dark outside when you push the door open. The pebbled ground crunches under your heels as you make your way to the back of the building and there is your solace. A bench. It was wooden and was sat in the middle of a small green patch of grass.

These FBI things had been few and far between with your with the BAU. The team rather spending their time on cases and saving people’s lives rather than spending time being paraded around by the director. However, that had meant that in the couple times you had been at these things, you had a tradition.

Men loved being saviours. So when they see a poor woman, sat in the cold, waiting for her cigarette to be lit. But in reality, you had a lighter placed in your bra. Dinner had just started so you pull out said lighter and light your first cigarette and take a drag. The smoke flaying out in-front of you in the light as you sit on the table of the bench, your feet on the seat.

The team sat around their round table, slowly eating and sipping on their drinks, longing out the process to avoid the socialising that was to come again next.

“It’s just not fair how she doesn’t even get a seat at our table,” Spencer huffs as he puts another forkful into his mouth. “The team would barely work without her. She’s a part of the team.” Everyone around the table nods in agreement.

“If it was up to me, she would.” Hotch says, also continuing to eat his food and sip his drink.

“Well you could push harder for it.” Spencer says, his mood sour and he fiddles his fork around his plate as he mumbles.

“Don’t worry Spence.” Emily said from next to him, placing her hand on his shoulder. “She’s just fine.” She says smirking at Jj and Penelope from across the table.

“Pump your brakes, what does that mean?” Derek says with raised eyebrows looking between the three of them. “Is she with someone here?” His eyes flit between them and waits impatiently for one of them to answer.

“Not yet.” Jj barley whispers into her wine.

“And what does that mean?” Derek pushes again and looks towards Penelope. “Babygirl, what do you know?” He asks leaning towards her and she hides behind her hands. “Penelope.” Everyone around the table was interested in what the ladies of the BAU knew about your love life.

One thing about the team was they were nosy. Specially about the love lives of the other members of the team. Behavioural analysis made it easy for them to tell when a night was spent out of bed.

“I’m not supposed to tell.” Pen squeaks, her voice an octave higher than usual, feeling the pressure of all of the curious eyes on her. But her reddening face and the pitch in her voice getting higher and higher indicates that she was going to spill and soon. Even Hotch was engaged and listening. And spill she did. “Hot rich men carry lighters.”

“And what does that have to do with sleeping with other agents?” Rossi chimes in, his hand resting around his glass and his finger tapping against the side.

“When time comes to dinner and she doesn’t get a seat at the table, she makes her way outside with two cigarettes,” Emily starts to explain. “She lights and smokes the first one while dinner is happening.”

“Then after dinner, she waits for someone to come and offer to light her second cigarette.” Jj picks up from Emily. “It’s actually quite smart.” She smiles as she finishes.

“Then they get to talking then she’s got somewhere to sleep for the night.” Penelope finishes. “The FBI is so cheap, they don’t even book her a room.” She rolls her eyes and takes another sip, clearly getting tipsy. “She never tells us who she’s been with, i’m dying to know.”

“Who would have thought she had it in her huh?” Derek says with an impressed smile.

“Literally all of us.” Emily laughs at him and wait staff begin to collect in empty plates and people begin to stand and shuffle and talk about boring corporate nonsense.

They watch Hotch get up abruptly from his chair and stride toward the bar, he doesn’t order anything he just stands there and waits for the team to disperse around the room.

“He’s not as subtle as he thinks.” Will laughs out towards Rossi who gives a small shrug before turning around and shaking the hands of agents from all over the US.

The shine of your shoes caught your attention, the patent dark material reflecting in the light. Circular rings dance across them and reflect in your eyes. Your first cigarette had long been smoked and shoved into the stones beneath your feet. You’d began to wonder if you just hadn’t gotten lucky this time round. Maybe you hadn’t grabbed the attention enough for anyone to follow you outside. Your eyes hadn’t left the ground yet, and were now tracing the irregular pattern of the stones. Just about to give in to the temptation and time, reaching into your bra to pull out your lighter.

“I didn’t know you smoked.” Your head shoots up and your hand goes heck to its original position by your side. It was him, your boss. Aaron Hotchner,one of the richest and hottest men you knew. You hadn’t heard the stones rustle on the way over, he always walked quietly. His voice didn’t travel far in the large empty space.

“I thought you were meant to be a profiler, sir.” You say smiling up at him and scooting over, making room for him next to you. “Get tired of all the questions?” He sits down, mirroring the way you were perched.

“I’ve already told you.” He says, the lights that were wrapped around the leaf filled arch lit up his face in such a perfect way, you couldn’t describe it. “It’s Aaron.” He repeats from weeks ago and you see him turn towards you out of the corner of your eye. Now, it was time to test if your theory was correct.

“Ok. Aaron.” You put specific emphasis on his name with a laugh and you look over to him. “Do you have a lighter?” His eyes meet yours.

“You shouldn’t smoke, they’re bad for your health.” He says avoiding the question, maybe you were wrong. “But I do. There.” He pulls it out of the inside pocket. It was fancy, silver with an engraved pattern with his name next to it.

“This is a fancy lighter.” You comment as the orange flame shines on your face. Pulling the cigarette to your mouth you take a drag. “Lots of things are bad for your health.” Your hand passes the imaginary line between you and you hold the cigarette in front of him and you raise your eyebrow in question.

“Thanks.” He takes it from your hand and pulls it up to his face but pauses. He stares at the deep red circle around the paper. “It was a gift from Rossi, he just likes to spend his money.”

“That he does,” You smile at him and notice his hesitation. “It’s just lipstick.” Resting your elbows on your legs you tilt your head to the side, hair falling over your shoulders. “It’s safer than shaking hands or whatever Spencer says when he meets someone new.” You joke. He laughs deeply at that and finally takes a puff of the cigarette.

His face contorts in slight disgust. “Those don’t taste like I remember.” But he keeps it in his hand.

“That’s because they were incredibly cheap.” Giggling, you realise you are still holding his lighter in your hands and it shining in the light.

“So you won’t mind then?” He asks and you look towards him confused.

“Mind what?” You reply, the line between your eyebrows prominent.

“This.” He smirks and throws the cigarette on the ground and stamps it out. You make a noise of protest as you watch the small orange glow disappear.

“I’m in a right mind to keep this lighter now.” Looking down into your lap shyly where your hands lay. Fiddling and flipping open the lighter. He made you nervous, usually you were able to take charge of these men and lure them to bed without a word. However, this man, your boss, was terrifying to you as he sat there breathing steadily, while your heart raced erratically.

“You’re welcome to.” He says with a shrug and brings his hand up to adjust his tie.

“It’s beautiful out here, it looks like a wedding venue.” You were deflecting and refuse to even look in the man’s direction.

“It is.” His answers were getting shorter and shorter and your heart was getting faster and faster.

Adrenaline ran through your veins as the next words flew out of your mouth before you could spare a second to think about it. “Do you know the FBI don’t even pay for my room at these things?”

“Really? I’ll look into it.” He says and taps the side of his head and keeping it in there for later.

“Thank you.” The two of you sit in silence for a while, breathing in the fresh air and looking around the grand garden and taking note of the potted plants dotted around the place. The night was clear and the stars were out, looking close to the small fairy lights that surrounded the pair of you.

“You’re part of the team, just as much as me or anyone. They should get you a room.” He says, his pinky finger inching across to yours, laying millimetres away.

“You’re the Unit chief and they’re agents.” You laugh. “I’m just an assistant.” You continue. “I’m not-.” You realise you go to say important and your mind flies back to your conversation in the parking lot.

“Important?” He sighs and you turn towards him and he says your name in the same airy voice. His tone suddenly changes back to his normal firm one. “You know what?” He asks and you raise your eyebrows at him. “You’re not important.” He states.

Your face morphs into confusion. “What?” You scoff at him and you lean back, also pulling your hand away from the closeness of before. You stand up abruptly and start to quickly walk away from the bench, grabbing the bottom of your dress up and keeping it away from your heels.

He says your name again but this time it’s a shout. “Wait!” He shouts again and you spin around and shake your head at him.

“What! Sir!” You shout at him harshly and take a step towards him in anger.

“You’re not important because.” He starts and you roll your eyes and he takes a step towards you and the gap gets smaller and smaller. Your breath getting shorter and shorter.

“Because what?!” You shout again and wave your arms around in emphasis.

“Because.” He says your name softer this time. “You’re invaluable.” Your mouth hangs open and all of your air leaves your lungs and you stand there for a moment. Your boss had rendered you speechless once again. Staring at him with his perfectly tailored suit and that sexy fucking red tie and just his sexy fucking face. “You’re invaluable to me.”

Dropping your clutch on the floor you quickly walk at him, trying not to trip in your heels on the uneven ground. “You stupid, stupid man.” You say and the two of you hover close to one another. “Aaron Hotchner, you massive idiot!” You gasp at him and grab his tie and pull him down to you and kiss him.

It was quick and rough and you pull away after a few seconds. “Shit, you’re my boss! Fuck!” You exclaim and look up panicked, running your hands through your hair and take a large step back. Your chest heaves, as you look him in the eyes. “I’m invaluable to you.” You say dumbly and blink quickly in more confusion than before.

“Yes, you are.” He says and takes a large step forwards, putting you toe to toe. His hands run up the tops of your thighs and over your hips and land in the small of your waist. “Say my name again.” His nose runs up your neck towards your ear.

The realisation hits you then. “I’m invaluable to you, Aaron.” You say smugly and he leans into kiss you this time and he hums in agreement inside your mouth. You’re pressed up against him as his large hands on your waist have you pulled against him.

You’re own hands start to wander as his tongue enters your mouth, they slide their way up the back of this suit and into the nape of this neck and the top of his hair. “I’ve waited so long to do that.” He sighs as the two of you separated for breath.

“Me too.” You smile as the two of you hold each other. “Your room?” You ask and intertwine your hand with his.

“Definitely.” He says and you begin to walk to the back door of the hotel, you leading the way.

“I’m your invaluable assistant.” You smirk at him as you open the back fire exit door. You felt smug being invaluable to the man. The man you’d had a crush on since you’d joined the BAU.

“Yes, you are.” He repeats and reaches down to give your arse a squeeze, in your tight dress.

“Oi!” You reach down and smack his hand away with a laugh. “Just for that, you’re going up the stairs first.” You say and push him towards the staircase.

“I’ll have you know my eyes are always front.” He says and starts to walk up the steps to his room, key card already in hand.

“Mine aren’t.” Your eyes and centred directly on his arse as he walks up the stairs to his room.

#criminal minds #fanfic #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #ficlet #fluff #oneshot #aaron hotchner smut #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotch x you #aaron hotchner is dumb about feelings #i’m so sorry this took so long to post i really hope you enjoy love you sillies

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sweetestofchaos · 1 year

Text

Hold On Ft. Jackson Wang

Genre: Slice of Life, Fluff (?)

Warning: Anxiety Attack, Grinding, Jackson in a mesh shirt, Body Rolling...nothing too crazy

Paring: Jackson x Reader

Rating: Teen (17+)

Summary: What starts out as a rough night morphs into the night of your life.

Word Count: 2.5K

A/N: Requested by the lovely @omgsuperstarg. Thank you so much for waiting and I hope this is okay. I wasn't sure if you were looking for something soft or smuty, so I went the softer route with a lil spice.

You were here, finally. Tonight, was the night that you would get to see Jackson Wang perform in person on stage. You were a little bummed that his VIP tickets sold out before you could get them, but it happens. You knew that it was a slim to none chance. Your tickets weren’t bad, you were still pretty close to the stage, if you got lucky, you could still squeeze your way to the barriers. Just in case you wore a pair of custom made nike sneakers. They were all back with green and yellow crystals mixed together on the checkmark. Your outfit was very simple, you didn’t want to dress too crazy in case it got a little too hot or someone got a little too excited. The last concert you got dressed up for, someone’s ring got caught up in the ties of your shirt and you ended up flashing half the people around you.

A black mesh onesie that had an open back and cinched at the waist was paired with light washed jeans with rips in the thighs. The bedazzled green and yellow chunky belt added a little extra to the outfit and pulled everything together as it matched the mismatched yellow and green diamond earrings you wore. You wore your hair in its normal style and settled on a simple black winged eyeliner, a pop of silver shimmer in the corner of your eyes, a rose gold highlighter and lined your lips in black with a tinted lip gloss.

As you finished getting ready, your phone rang and you saw that your friend from online was calling. The two of you meant online and just clicked, it would be the sixth time that you would see each other in person. She was able to get a ticket to Jackson Wang’s sound check and you offered to let her stay at your place so that she wouldn't have to pay for a hotel. You grabbed your car keys, snatched your phone from the dresser and answered it. You were hit with the sound of your friend breathing heavily and a muffled voice in the background.

“Hey, hey. Listen to me okay?” You quickly rushed out of the house and hurried to your car. “I’m on my way to you. I need you to breathe with me, kay?” You coached your friend through her anxiety attack. The phone sounded muffled for a moment before a new voice was on the line.

“Hey, um…this is Eddie. D-Do I need to do anything? Can I do anything to help?”

“Can you just stay with her, please? I’m fifteen minutes away. Is she outside the venue? God, I should have left with her.”

“We’re inside the venue. I passed her in the hallway and knew something was wrong.”

“Thank you, Eddie. I really appreciate you stopping to help her.” You glanced at the time on the dashboard and frowned. “If you're comfortable, she should have a bottle of klonopin in her bag, can you give her one. It will help with the attack.”

“One pill? Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

“I’ll be there soon. Please call me back if anything happens. Her password is 4687, it spells Got7.”

The man, Eddie laughed lightly and a smile pulled at your lips. Good to know the stranger had good taste in music.

“Security just got here, they want to move your friend to somewhere safer that is not out in the open. What’s your name? They can wait for you at the front of the venue.”

You gave your name to Eddie and hung up, determined to not crash as you sped towards the venue to help your friend. You reached the venue and parked, nearly crashing as you swerved into a spot. You made sure that you had your ID, phone and bag before you ran into the venue. You rushed past the long line of people waiting to get in and gave security your name as they tried to stop you from entering the building.

“Right this way.” A guard led you into the building and you could hear the sound check starting up. You felt bad that your friend and the stranger, Eddie, were both missing it. The guard knocked on a door that had a do not enter sign on it and when the door opened you saw a young man that you didn’t know.

“Eddie?” You questioned and the guy smiled with a nod his head.

The two of you shook hands and you stepped inside the room. Your friend was curled into a ball on a couch with a bottle of her tucked into her lap.

“Oh, sweetie.” You walked over and sat beside her. Silently, you pulled her into your arms and smoothed your hand over her hair while you kissed the top of her head. “Thank you, Eddie. I am so sorry that you missed part of the sound check. I can cashapp you for the trouble.”

Eddie waved you off as your friend started to cry into your shoulder. She muttered how embarrassed she was and you shushed her. She had nothing to be embarrassed about, these attacks happened to a lot of people and there was nothing wrong with it. Eddie chimed in with his two sense and your friend sighed. You helped her get herself together, thankfully you had some makeup in your bag and were able to touch her up.

“Do you want to stay or go home?” You asked your friend and she wanted to stay. She would call it quits early if she felt another attack coming on. The guard from before led the three of you to the sound check and another guard gave you an upgraded ticket so that you could stay with your friend in case something happened.

“The perks of being my emotional support human!” Your friend joked and you rolled your eyes as you melted into the crowd together with your new friend Eddie.

As people moved around, you slowly made your way to the front of the crowd and Eddie acted as your personal body guard as he made sure that no one touched your friend or got too close to her. You were thankful for him and the excitement for the actual concert started to hit once Jackson Wang disappeared from the stage. More people were let into the venue as the start time got closer and the same guard from before was in front of the barricade. He kept an eye on your friend and again you felt thankful for such kind people.

The whole venue was plugged into darkness and everyone screamed as the beginning note of 100 Ways started to play. Light slowly started to get brighter and smoke filled the stage before Jackson Wang himself appeared on stage. You thought your eardrums were going to bleed with how loud everyone had screamed. The set list was perfect, Jackson sang a lot of the songs that were your favorite. Your friend, Eddie and you sang along and danced your hearts out as Jackson threw his hips around on stage like no one business. The man looked good, dark make up on his face, silver blonde hair hung in his eyes and that black outfit…yeah mesh was made for him.

Water was thrown on the crowd, dancers interacted with those close to them and Jackson took a moment to address the crowd. His speech was nice, he spoke about himself, his hopes, his dreams and how he was feeling about himself nowadays. It was touching to know that he trusted everyone enough to share his thoughts and feelings so openly. After a few more songs, you noticed that Jackson had spotted someone. He kept coming over to your section of the crowd and interacted a lot more with those around you. Your friend touched his hand and you thought that she was going to die right there in front of everyone. Eddie was just as bad, the man almost dropped when Jackson tossed him a water bottle.

You were happy that your friends were enjoying themselves. At some point Jackson disappeared from the stage and the whole place went nuts. You blinked and it seemed like he just popped up in your section right in front of the barrier. He stood in front of you and grinned as he adjusted the mic by his mouth.

“Hey. Do you have a boyfriend?”

Jackson looked right at Eddie and you laughed, “He’s a friend. No boyfriend.”

“Really?” Jackson sounded surprised and nodded his head before he waved his hand. ��Come on up!” He watched as the guards helped you over the barrier and he took your hand in his once you were safely on the ground.

You had seen videos of Jackson online where he had pulled fans up on stage and danced with them. It was wild and sexy. It was something you had dreamed about many, many times and now it was your turn. You glanced over your shoulder to look back at your friends and they were foaming at the mouth. Jackson led you on stage as the notes to 'The Moment' started to play and placed you in a chair in the middle of the stage. The moment you sat down the beat dropped and Jackson Wang was body rolling in front of your face. The black mesh shirt he had on didn’t hide anything and you drank in every inch of his pecs, abs and the thin patch of dark hair and disappeared into his black dress pants.

You felt hot, your face was warm and the music was so loud. Jackson was there in front of you and the next moment he wasn’t. He walked around you in a circle with the rest of his male dancers and you sat there numb and relaxed. So, he wanted to give a little dance, okay. Eye contact, and lots of it. Jackson didn’t look away from you once and you refused to back down from his challenge. He smirked as he dropped to his knees and body rolled slowly and when he rolled over and started humping the floor, his eyes were on you.

You bit your bottom lip and raised your eyebrow. Accepting your silent challenge, Jackson jumped to his feet and crowded your space. His legs were on either side of your thighs and he grabbed your face in his large hands. They burned your skin in the best way as he sang to you and booped your nose before he stepped away and started dancing again. The other dancers stroked your cheeks and winked at you as they moved about and you took it all in stride. A lap dance is a lap dance. Even if Jackson Wang was the one giving it, you weren’t going to back down.

Jackson came back in front of you and pulled you to stand up by your hand. The chair disappeared and it was just the two of you on stage dancing. He danced close, his body firm, sweaty and warm as he kept to the beat. You placed your hands on his shoulders and trailed them upward to the nap of his neck where you then fiddled with the ends of his hair and scratched your nails lightly against his skin. You felt Jackson shiver under your touch but his voice never wavered as he grabbed your hand and slid it down the length of his abdomen. He stopped just above his navel and you trailed your hands back, your fingers spread a little wider so that you could catch his nipple between them on purpose.

Jackson smirked and the song faded into 'Dead', where Jackson then grabbed your hand once again. He spun you around and pressed himself against your back as he sang in your ear. You felt his heart beating against your back and the warmth from his body seeped into your own. You were led into an open elevator and Jackson kept you close, as he pressed his forehead to yours, those icy blue contacts striking against his tanned skin tone. He continued to sing and you danced with him, giving the crowd more of a show than the rest of the fans that he pulled onto the stage.

You kept up with his body rolls and leaned into his touch. Your arms wrapped around the back of his neck as he sang, “So, hold on, are you really dead to the world? Slow down, you're not really dead to the world.”

You swayed your hips to the beat as Jackson cupped your face in his hands softly, his thumb stroked the apple of your cheek. His hands went to your hips, his forearms rested on your sides while his hands hung respectfully above the small of your back. You hid your face in his shoulder and laughed which made Jackson rest his cheek against the side of your head.

“Right now, I'm about to take you to the house, be under covers, lovers, dead to the world. You told me never take your time in vain.”

The open elevator started to rise and you tightened your hold on him. You weren’t a huge fan of heights and your body tensed up a little. Jackson felt the tightness in your body and he pulled you into a hug as he finished out the song. His voice was strong and soothing in your ear as the elevator disappeared up out of sight. Jackson quickly turned his mic off and rubbed your back.

“I'm sorry. I didn’t ask if you were afraid of heights. Are you okay?”

“I’m good. I’ll be better back on the ground.”

Jackson huffed a small chuckle and held you tightly as the elevator started to come down behind the stage.

“You can hang back here if you want or go back to your spot.”

“My friends-”

“They can come back too! I wouldn’t mind hanging with you all after the show…if you want?”

As the elevator touched the ground Jackson pulled away from you and you grabbed his hand. He looked down at your hand around his and back up at you.

“We would love to hang out after the show. I’ll be here.”

Jackson grinned and you let go of his hand as he turned and told one of the guards to grab your friends. Jackson rushed off for a quick outfit change and a staff member offered you a chair. You accepted it and waited for your friends to arrive backstage. You saw them before they saw you and you rushed to their side.

“Oh my God!”

“Bitch…what the fuck?!”

Eddie and your friend were besides themselves as they gushed about how good you and Jackson looked together. You really didn’t mean to show out, you were just having fun. You didn’t want to waste a perfectly good opportunity to have fun, so you just enjoyed yourself and danced along.

“We got invited to an afterparty…”

“What?!” Eddie and your friend were dumbfounded. An afterparty? W-With Jackson Wang?

“What? He thought I was cool, and you losers are cool by default.”