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hqbaby · 1 day

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fourteen — kiss me again

mess it up — gojo x reader & sukuna x reader

⁀➴ when i told you i’m fine, you were lied to. when the love of your life falls for someone else, you decide to move on—by pretending to date your best friend, the campus fuckboy.

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word count. 2k content. profanity, sexual content [elevator sex, fingering, oral f receiving]

Once the adrenaline of the last few minutes has dissipated, you and Sukuna find yourselves painfully awkward as you stand in the elevator, placing a respectful distance between the two of you.

“How—”

“Do—”

You both stop talking, looking at each other with nervous smiles. You laugh to try and ease the tension, but somehow it only makes it worse.

He nods at you, wringing his hands. “You go first.”

You look away. “Nothing,” you say. “I was just gonna ask how—”

The lights go out around you and the elevator comes to a sudden halt. You stumble at the unexpected stop, but Sukuna grabs you before you fall.

“Did it just—”

“—stop? Yeah,” you say, squinting your eyes as they adjust to the darkness. “The power’s been fluctuating recently and the elevator’s been doing this.”

You become acutely aware of the fact that you’re pressed flush against your best friend’s chest, so you right yourself and pull back, his reluctant arm loosening its grip on you.

“How long does it usually last?” he asks.

“Not more than ten minutes,” you tell him. The ache of your legs makes itself known and you sit on the floor. There’s no use standing while you wait. “Sorry about this.”

You can see him shake his head, your eyes adjusting to the dark. “It’s fine,” he says, carefully sitting down next to you. He’s still pointedly far away from you. Not too much to be strange, but enough to not touch you, even by accident. “I guess we wait.”

You hum. “I guess.”

The two of you sit on the floor of the tiny box, occasionally shifting to stretch your legs, to look at your hands. The tension is terribly apparent, but neither of you has the nerve to address it. Every time you look over at Sukuna, he looks away, and when he tries to look at you, you turn to your side.

This little song and dance goes on for a while until—

“Do you just wanna talk about the kiss?” he asks bluntly.

You let out a relieved groan. “Yes please,” you say, scooching closer to him. “So? What did you think?”

He snorts, peering at you as you come close enough to brush your shoulders against his. “Of the kiss?”

“Yeah,” you say. “Am I a good kisser? I’ve never really asked anyone that before because it’s pathetic, but I’ve been dying to know.”

“I dunno,” he says teasingly. “Pretty sure I carried the kiss.”

You punch his shoulder. “You did not.”

“Felt that way to me.”

“You’re such a loser,” you tell him. You grab his shoulder and shake him around a little. “Tell me, tell me, tell me.”

He plucks your hand off and interlaces it with his. A romantic gesture with anyone else, but a regular occurrence between the two of you. “You know, you’re a really annoying person.”

“Fuck you. You love me.”

His grip on your hand goes slack for a second as he looks away. You know that it’s dark right now and there’s really not much to see, but you spy the catch in his breath. You see the way he grows skittish as you tighten your hold on his hand. And there’s another thing, even more miniscule but incredibly obvious to you.

“Are you blushing?” you say loudly.

He pulls his hand away from yours and snarls at you. “What the fuck?”

“You are!” you say with a gasp. You point a finger at him, all childish and giddy. “You’re fucking—”

You’re cut off by his lips on yours. It’s harsher than last time. A stark contrast to the gentle nervousness of your last kiss. This time, it’s rough and wet and messy. And you hate to say it, but it’s incredibly hot.

You kiss him back, your hands going to his hair as he finds your hips, pulling you closer to him. You’re so caught up in the feverish haze of it all that it takes you a while to hear the voice screaming in the back of your head. What are you doing?

You press your hands to his chest and push him away. You blink at him in the dark, short breaths leaving your lips as you find him staring at you with an intensity you don’t think you’ve ever seen before.

“Sukuna,” you say quietly. “Are you sure about this?”

His eyes flick over to your lips then back to your own eyes, staring at him all wide and uncertain. “I—I don’t—sorry,” he says. “Do you not—Do you not want to?”

There’s something so sweet about the way he stumbles over his words, his hold on your hips going from confidently sexy to horrifyingly self aware. He leans back with parted lips. It’s like he’s waiting for your rejection, waiting for you to turn him down.

You lift a hand to cup his cheek and you chuckle. “I want to,” you whisper, leaning closer until your eyelashes flutter against his. “I just… this is a lot for me.”

“I know, I know,” he reassures you. His hand rubs your hips in small soothing circles as he looks at you sheepishly. “This is a lot for me too.”

You close your eyes and brush your lips against his. “Kiss me again?”

You hear him laugh. “Anything for you, tiger.”

The kiss is tender this time. Closer to your first kiss, but with the assurance that this is something you both want. You melt against him, hands roaming through his hair, across his shoulders, over the plane of his chest. He touches you softly, letting his fingers linger on the small of your back, up your spine, behind your neck.

Kissing Sukuna is like breathing, catching a second wind again and again with every touch of your lips to his.

You move against him, rocking your hips gently, little waves touching the shore. His tongue slips out and brushes against the bottom of your lip, a silent request that you indulge. Your hands are on his neck now, playing the short strand of hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him ever so close to you.

His touch trails down your back and lands on your thighs, fingers lifting the fabric of your skirt to touch your burning skin. His hands rub your skin, every now and then getting close to the space between your thighs, but never touching, never giving you what you really want. He’s so careful, so sensitive to doing the right thing and as much as you want to applaud him for it, you can feel the heat growing in your core. The frustration beginning to inch through your bones,

You detach your mouth from his and ever so quietly, you ask, “‘Kuna, can you—can you touch me?”

His hands graze over the fabric of your panties. “Here?” he asks softly, slipping a finger over the wet fabric.

A moan escapes your lips at the sudden contact and you hold on tight to him. “Yes,” you say. “Please.”

“You don’t need to beg, tiger,” he tells you. He pushes the fabric to the side and runs his finger along the stripe of your cunt. “All you gotta do is ask.”

He moves his mouth back to kiss you as he slips a finger inside of you, swallowing your whimpers. “Fuck, you’re already so wet,” he says, more to himself than to you. He presses his thumb on your clit, forcing a squeal out of you as he drags his finger in and out, in and out. “Do you like that, tiger?”

You press your face into the crook of his neck, panting as he works between your legs. “More, ‘Kuna.”

“Greedy girl,” he murmurs as he kisses your head. “I’ll give you more. I’ll give you everything.”

He pulls his hand off of you and you jerk back in confusion at the sudden loss of contact. “What—”

He guides you backwards and makes you sit on your knees. You place your hands on the floor behind you to prop you up, raising a brow in confusion. Just as you’re about to ask him what he’s doing, he ducks his head between your thighs, pushing your skirt up as he laps at your pussy.

“Oh shit,” you gasp, throwing your head back as his tongue sucks at your clit. Your hands fly to his hair and you pull, moaning when he slots a finger back inside you.

He pushes the digit deeper and curls it against a spot that sends you reeling. “Right there?” he asks, still intent on eating you out.

You keen with every move, with every brush of his finger against your walls, every kiss of his tongue on your throbbing clit. It’s too much, it’s not enough. The only thing on your mind is Sukuna, Sukuna, Sukuna.

“Are you close, tiger?” he asks. He slides a second finger into you and you moan, your hold on his hair only growing tighter. “You gonna come for me?”

You’re so caught up in your pleasure that the only thing you can do is nod and whimper. “‘Kuna, I’m so close,” you tell him. “Gonna come for you.”

“That’s my girl,” he says. He pulls his mouth off of you and replaces it with his thumb, rolling your clit beneath his finger as the other two continue to curl inside of you. He pressed his lips to the span of skin on your stomach where your shirt rides up. “Give me a kiss, tiger. Please.”

You open your eyes and groan at the sight of his cheek pressed to your stomach, looking at you with pleading eyes as his finger moves sinfully between your legs. You sit up, wincing as the movement sends his fingers diving deeper into you, and you grab his collar, pulling him closer to kiss you.

The kiss is more heated now, what with you getting closer and closer to your high, but it’s just as sweet. Just as gentle as earlier.

He moves his unoccupied hand to your neck, holding you close to him. “Come for me, tiger,” he sighs against your lips. “Want my girl to come for me.”

His words send you over the edge, a wanton moan tumbling out of your lips as you grab his collar, the only thing grounding you as your high descends on you, all intense and hot and positively electric.

Sukuna kisses you through your high, moving his hand from your neck to your back, fingers drawing up and down your spine.

When your orgasm fades, you pull your lips away from his and find him smiling at you. Not his usual teasing smirk, not his smug little grin, a smile of pure unadulterated joy.

“You good?” he asks, drawing his hands away from between your legs and letting them settle on your waist.

You giggle and nod. “I’m good.”

The two of you end up laughing, out of relief mostly but also a happiness that neither of you thought was possible. You settle on Sukuna’s lap, still facing him as he holds you to his chest, soaking in every bit of your presence, your touch, your everything.

“Thank fuck for broken elevators,” he muses aloud.

You chuckle. “Yeah,” you say, tilting your head to look at him. “Thanks for always showing up when I need you.”

He pecks your cheek, still smiling. “Anytime, tiger.”

You snuggle into him, wrapping your legs around his waist as you place your head on his shoulder. You’re about to close your eyes when you feel something poking at your ass—the something being his painfully hard dick.

“Is that…?” you ask, unmoving.

“Yup,” he says, voice a little strained.

“Do you want me to—”

“Nope.” Sukuna clears his throat. “Let’s, uh, wait to get to your apartment. Just ignore it.”

“It’s kinda hard to ignore.”

“Ignore it, tiger,” he says again, holding you tight so you don’t make any sudden moves. “It can—yeah, it can wait.”

You smile into his shoulder. “Whatever you say, ‘Kuna. Whatever you say.”

notes. this is for all the sukuna girlies 😩

#hqbaby.miu #hqbaby #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #gojo #gojo x reader #sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna smut

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weirdmageddon · 12 hours

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the shift in lore literacy in homestuck’s fandom

i was thinking about how the people who got into homestuck after it ended—whose interactions with the comic are in a static, archived state, not an ongoing thing—missed out on information that was more common knowledge in the fandom at that time. i don’t know if this is true since i’m not on tiktok, but i wouldn’t be surprised if it was. the fandom certainly isn’t the same as it was before.

ive found that many people reading homestuck now simply do not understand things in homestuck that were common knowledge back in the day, with calls for “homestuck literacy classes to become mandatory” in response to baffling takes because so many people just now seem to have glazed over the comic without absorbing important plot points, and i think i know why this may be. i ended up writing a post reflecting on my time with the comic, my perspective and how ive seen this change. i still think and write about homestuck because it still fascinates me. earlier i quote retweeted that call in my thread talking about the temporal relativity of dave and rose’s god tier ascension in the green sun, saying “my homestuck literacy is 100% so guess im doing my part as a teacher by pointing out whatever i think is really cool about it”. this post im writing now started out as a reply to this tweet i got in response.

i joined the fandom in 2013. i was 11. i had been aware of it since at least late 2011, early 2012 when my friend ryan in fifth grade told me to read it but i couldn’t get past the first few pages. i remember writing a journal on deviantart around this time (late 2011-early 2012) that was mocking people who typed like gamzee, which ironically was very karkat of me. and i remember someone on flipnote hatena i was following was making flipnotes with the alpha kids.

i dont know what caused me to flip the switch into reading it but 2013. i got into it somewhere between april (i think closer to april—i remember it being quite a span of time between the last update before HOMOSUCK dropped.) this was the most recent page the comic, meaning there was no > [S] ACT 6 ACT 6 at the bottom.

i got into it during a pause in updates, which looking into it, was the year 4 megapause. i wasn’t sure of the month until seeing the news post detailing the reason for the hiatus and the status report of the comic’s development at that time. pretty cool i could narrow it down by referencing the dates of those updates and the news post to correspond with the pause!

according to readmspa, the year 4 megapause was a 59 day hiatus from Apr 14, 2013 ==> (EOA6A5) running to 12 Jun 2013, [S] ACT 6 ACT 6. then for a few months there were the first updates that i was apart of the fandom for.

and what an exciting time during the story get into the webcomic! when the updates resumed in june, part 4 of homestuck had begun. here was a glimpse of the updates in that span of time before the next hiatus began in october.

that hiatus was none other than the gigapause, the longest hiatus in the comic, which started october 2013 and lasted for a YEAR, and i already posted about what happened on the date of return.

but here were the main events happening in the story at the time i first actually got interested in it. i wasn’t aware of the full context of them then like i am now, but i was looking at the most recent updates anyway with interest:

the alpha kids just emerged as god tiers from their slabs in derse and prospit, blown up by the condesce and caliborn / lil cal-possessed b2 jack noir.

the journey to the new session started 24 hours after jack called an early reckoning in descend—for context that was about when dave entered around midnight central time and before jade even entered. it’s pretty easy to forget that side 1 of homestuck basically happens within the span of a single day—and at this point in the story, the 3 year journey (which was also 3 real life years) had just ended. john and jade emerged from the other side of the yellow yard through the fenestrated plane on LOMAX. john’s real body was asleep upon arrival in the new session, while his dreaming projection out in the dream bubbles came across vriska’s ghost ship to learn lord english lore with vriska and aranea, and go on the treasure hunt where they found the ultimate weapon at the X mark out in in the furthest ring. in the dream john stuck his hand in the juju, started warping all over canon which removed his real body from the ship on LOMAX. he zapped around for a while but eventually zapped back to LOMAX, now awake, completely out of the loop of what everyone else is up to, and bored as fuck. what was everyone else getting up to while john was asleep?

jade was now once again within the domain of the green sun. im pretty sure her space god doggy essence comes with the power to sense what was anywhere within the domain of the session since her face looks like she arrived at that spot with intent (and she literally has jack noir’s exact powers from bec’s prototyping. also this panel). she immediately dispatched b2 jack to the edge of the incinisphere, defending the newly god-tiered jane and jake. i think even if they weren’t in any danger, she would have warped to them instantly anyway because she COULD now, and i can imagine she wouldve been sooooo eager to meet everyone. even davesprite comments about her rapid departure.

the pre-scratch refugees arrived during the only time serious shit ever went down in the nobles’ months-long inert void session. the condesce used her freak psychic bronze-cerulean powers to commune with jade’s bestial side and mind controlled her, which is super dangerous as someone with the powers of a first guardian. she then used jade’s powers to corrupt jane with the tiaratop. no funtime meetup allowed!

the trolls’ meteor with rose, dave, and the remaining trolls was pulling up into the new session with no way to slow it down. grimbark jade warped there once it was in the incinisphere and took active control. she warped everyone off the trolls’ meteor and sent them to LOMAX.

as john was losing his mind on LOMAX waiting for everyone, the meteor crew warped in. after 3 years he finally reunited with rose and dave, and at least saw the trolls in person. close curtains, end of A6A5. this was the newest [S] flash page at the time, one of my first impressions of this comic, and still one of my favorite flashes. knowing the context of the flash in the story only enhances the retrospective joy i have at getting into the comic at the time i did because it’s such an anticipated moment in the story for everyone, while for someone with no context of the story it was still enjoyable.

so that’s what was going on plotwise when i joined the fandom.

from this time, through those few months of updates and through the gigapause, i was familarizing myself with the characters in the story and overseeing the state of fanbase, getting myself acquainted with the story and wrapping my head around everything.

at that time i found that a new-ish group called colab HQ who were producing a let’s read homestuck series on youtube. hearing the voices and the pacing of it like that really, really eased me into it (maybe it was my adhd that gave me trouble actually starting it?). i caught up to a certain point using lets read homestuck and from that point was able to continue with the comic on my own, and by the time the gigapause came to a close i was fully caught up. i remember the rebranding of colab hq into voxus about a year and a half after i discovered them.

but.. back to the main point of my post. even these posts from hussie’s tumblr exist in archived states. how many new fans know about hussie’s old tumblr? i don’t know, unless theyre a new fan that must scour the internet for more deep more dives on homestuck and its fandom as a whole. but since hussie deleted his tumblr (it exists archived now on homestuck.net which, alongside from the unofficial homestuck collection, has nearly singlehandedly kept the most important relics of the fandom and lore archived), that page is not an active part of the fandom now, because it’s gone. it’s a pile of bones. it’s not living and breathing. it’s in an archived state. the whole thing is already there. homestuck and its fandom history is something you now binge instead of slowly consume and meld with as it comes out. it’s now this rapid information intake that you might forget about if you read it now instead of engaged alongside it. you’re not surrounded by people actively talking and theorizing about developments anymore. the ability to have those sorts of conversations during the ongoing development of the story reinforced concepts, ideas, and lore over and over as we tried to make sense of it.

being in a fandom when the author is still delivering the story is like nothing else. it allows you grow alongside the characters and engage meaningfully with the media and people in the fandom space around you. it feels like you’re participating IN the media itself, especially if you’re interfacing with the creator. it’s in always having something to theorize or talk about and speculate. and people become very aware of these sorts of forgotten story facts because they were applying the logic of the newest official post from hussie into making their sburb ocs or something and share resources and discussion posts about “what just happened in this update?? recap????” it was this cultural osmosis thing. i think this is why homestuck literacy is now at an all time low, at least from what i can see on twitter.

reading homestuck then vs now is like the difference between serialized shows with spaces between episodes to discuss stuff and time to reflect and learn and become attached to the story, narrative, worldbuilding and its characters, vs the netflix model where it’s all dropped all at once and people forget about it after binging.

at this point in time im getting the sense that “homestuck elders” now are no longer just people who were there since 2009-2010, but now also people who were there while it was still updating, probably stretching into 2014-2015. there are many sources of lore that were common knowledge in the fandom at the time that, since becoming susceptible to the deletion of content and link rot, and with the thanosing of mspaforums, are no longer accessible at the source. and a lot of people moved on after it ended, especially following the epilogues, the kate drama, and the whatpumpkin-sarah z drama, leaving a void of information behind if not for archivists and people such as me who continue to keep old facts relevant in discussions. my friend has called me a fandom scholar before and seeing this post i think i get what they mean.

EDIT: there is a series of video essays ive watched multiple times (because theyre that good) and they are exactly what modern fans need to see more of. they really help contextualize the comic and the themes present in it help you appreciate the basic fabric of homestuck a hell of a lot more. i highly recommend them and encourage any fan of homestuck to watch them, or someone considering getting into homestuck to watch the first one.

i think this is arguably as close to the “mandatory literacy class for homestuck” that person was talking about as you can get, especially the first video.

additionally, there is also the website https://rafe.name/homestuck which is essentially a sparknotes for homestuck and can help you follow developments in the comic itself.

#homestuck #homestuck meta #homestuck fandom #mine

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beefcakekinard · 14 hours

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i really think maddie and tommy could be really good friends. like at first their shared connection is buck - and that's a strong starting point, they both love this golden retriever of a man, and they both think he deserves all the love a person could possibly fit into their life! maddie is generous with the baby stories, which buck finds generally distressing, but tommy just eats them up, he's totally enamoured and it becomes really clear to maddie that tommy really wants to know all of buck that there is to know.

one evening maybe they're over at maddie and chim's for dinner and they've finished eating, they're both watching chim and buck chase jee around the backyard - tommy makes a comment like "howie's such a great dad" and maddie thinks, not for the first time, how nice it is to talk to someone who knows them as howie and evan. so she asks tommy if they can do lunch sometime, just the two of them.

lunch is fun. maddie is kind of surprised by just how much tommy makes her laugh; buck goes on all the time about how funny he is, but they've never spent time together outside of a group setting, where tommy is less naturally chatty. he has a dry sense of humour that more than once startles her into laughter, and they're having so much fun that it's so easy to decide to extend lunch into coffee at a place nearby.

relatively recently, tommy has been brought into the fold of buckley sibling trauma, and when she brings up her parents in some way, he gives her his condolences for daniel's loss. she immediately gets choked up the way she always does when this subject comes up, from the tenderness of a wound left raw and ignored for so long, but she breathes through it and thanks him, sincerely. she tells him that it's nice to be able to talk about daniel again, and to get to finally share him with evan. tommy's so open and easy to talk to, and doesn't push or pry. he says that he knows how it feels growing up with parents who aren't able, or willing, to give you what you need. when she eventually changes the subject, he goes along with it easily.

anyway, they have a really good time. i think they have a lot they can connect about, and their personalities mix in a really fun way! lunch becomes a semi-regular thing, as much as they can manage with their schedules. maddie gets tommy into the bachelor - he gets her into his favourite movies. in no time at all they have their own jokes and references. they fit naturally into each other's handpicked families like they were supposed to be there all along.

#bucktommy #rose.txt #please s8 please please pretty please give me a maddie and tommy scene. a conversation. a interaction...

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thestoryofusstan · 2 days

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clarisse x reader where y/n had been noticing clarisse like getting distant( like not holding her hand for more then 4 seconds just small stuff that only y/n notices😭) and then the day percy breaks her spear she's mad and y/n trys calming her down but clarisse just yells at her about how clingy she is and to leave her alone and basically she regrets it and apologizes multiple times and after like a week y/n forgives her and it's cute (I NEEDDDD THE PLAYING HARD TO GET PLS I HATE WHEN SHE FORGIVES HER EASILY)

I Miss You, I'm Sorry

pairing: clarisse x apollo!reader

summary: clarisse is distant and cold, and y/n is officially done.

warnings: none?? i don't think?

you'd been with clarisse for around three years now. at first, a lot of people were confused. clarisse was, essentially, one big ball of anger, and you were a ball of sunshine. after a while, though, it made sense. you balanced each other out. plus, clarisse was a lot softer with you.

but recently, clarisse had been acting different. ever since percy jackson came to camp, actually. she was a lot more angry. and perhaps it was because you'd welcomed him to camp and generally tried to be nice to him. you couldn't help it, he reminded you of your brother, who had a mortal dad and stayed at home with your mom.

when you'd sneak to the ares table during meals, she'd hardly acknowledge you. when you tried to hold her hand, she'd let you, for all of six seconds. you weren't sure why. you hadn't done anything to personally anger her, had you?

you must have. because even as the two of you got ready for capture the flag, she ignored you.

"hey, claire?" you said, turning to her. you were just about the only one she let give her a nickname, and you'd settled on claire. "can you help me with my armor? i think it's crooked."

"you can do it yourself, i'm sure."

you frowned. she'd usually jump at the opportunity to help you- to touch you, to breathe the same air as you.

what did you do wrong?

you had one of your siblings fix it for you.

luke had outrun you with the flag when you heard a scream from the beach. you recognized it.

"clarisse!" you shouted, bolting towards the sound.

when you got there, you saw clarisse sitting before percy, her broken spear between them.

you ran to her side and helped her up as the other team began celebrating their win.

"claire, i am so sorry about your spear. we-- i can fix it! or i can have one of the athena kids do it! someone should know how, right? probably. yeah, we'll have them fix it, and it'll be-"

"can you just leave me alone?" clarisse snapped.

you froze. pulled your hands away, and retreated into yourself.

"oh," you said, clearing your throat.

"gods, you're just so clingy! i just need five minutes of peace."

"oh."

that's when she seemed to realize she hurt your feelings. she sighed, her face softening, "y/n-"

"i'm gonna go."

"i didn't mean it like that-"

"yeah. i'm sure you didn't."

you crossed your arms as you walked away, resisting the urge to cry.

DAY 1

during dinner that night, clarisse came up to the apollo table.

"y/n?" she asked.

you kept pushing the food around your plate, ignoring her.

"y/n." she repeated.

she sighed.

"i'm sorry, i didn't mean it-"

without saying anything, you stood up and walked off.

clarisse didn't follow.

DAY 2

you were sitting by the lake, your feet in the water. you heard someone come from behind, and you knew who it was.

you sighed.

“y/n..” she started.

“i’m not talking to you,” you stated. you crossed your arms and kicked your feet in the water.

“please, i’m sorry—“

“i don’t care. you really hurt my feelings, clarisse. you could’ve just told me you want space instead of acting like you hate me.”

“i don’t—“

“just go, clarisse.”

she sighed and didn’t fight you anymore.

DAY 5

clarisse had done what you asked for the past few days. she didn’t come up to you or try to apologize.

you were getting ready for bed, braiding your younger sister’s hair, when someone knocked on the cabin door.

assuming it was some late night check, you sighed.

“i’ll get it.”

you walked over to the door and opened it, and clarisse was standing there.

you didn’t even let her speak before you shut the door.

“who was that?” lee asked.

“no one,” you shrugged, sitting back on the bed and resuming the braids.

DAY 6

“why don’t you just talk to her?” percy asked you. you offered to help him train with the water as best as you could.

“because. i usually do, but she’s been rude to me for a few weeks now. i just wanna makes sure she knows i won’t put up with it.”

percy shrugged, “makes sense, i guess.”

even though you had a poker face around clarisse, it did make you sad every time you shut her down or pushed her away.

you just wanted your girlfriend back.

DAY 7

after dinner, you really just wanted to go to your cabin and sleep. however, when you opened the door, a bunch of candles were lit.

“what the—“

clarisse was standing next to your bed with a bouquet of flowers. they were your favorites— hibiscus. they didn’t grow anywhere near long island, so she must have gotten a demeter kid to get her some.

“i’m sorry, y/n. i shouldn’t have snapped at you. i just.. i’ve worked my whole life at camp to be recognized by my dad, and percy gets all this fame and glory in a few weeks. it’s not an excuse, but i just.. wanted to explain myself,” she said, extending the flowers toward you.

you kept your arms crossed.

“i want to be around you all the time. i didn’t mean to act like i don’t wanna be with you, because i do. i mean.. besides, who else is able to calm me down?”

and that made you laugh, “nobody,” you took the flowers. “thank you for the flowers. no one’s ever gotten me these.”

she shrugged, “i figured it was about time you got your favorite flowers.”

you smiled and quickly turned to her.

“so.. we’re good?”

“we’re good,” you nod and plant your lips on hers.

a/n: YAYAYAYAT FIRST CLARISSE IMAGINE / BLURB / DRABLE IDK THE CLASSIFICATION!!!!

#clarisse la rue #clarisse x reader #clarisse la rue x reader #pjo #pjo x reader #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #percy series #heroes of olympus #x reader #apollo!reader

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cacoetheswriting · 2 days

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celebrity skin. (part nine)

pairing: rockstar!eddie munson x popstar!fem!reader word count: 4.6k summary: an album release forces some feelings and conversations — one thing's for sure though, Eddie will always be thinking about you.

content warnings: 18+, minors dni: suggestive & mature themes, adult language, use of pet names, mentions of alcohol consumption, mentions of blackmail — if i missed anything in this chapter, pls let me know!

& psa: images used in the header don’t depict readers physical attributes! these are also described vaguely in the story, only that she’s a little shorter than eddie.

celebrity skin. masterlist

“We are here this morning with a true music icon in the making, who’s hits like Compromising Positions and most recently Honesty took the world by storm. Now, Eddie Munson is just a few short days away from releasing his sophomore album with his Corroded Coffin bandmates, Assistance is Futile. Welcome to Eddie Munson everybody, yes!”

“Happy to be here, Charles.”

Good Morning America was definitely not the type of talk show the rockstar pictured himself ever getting invited on. He didn’t think his personal style, or the music he was putting out there with the band, would be something the producers would welcome. Considering especially the whole thing was televised live. No cuts, no edits, no take backs. Whatever is said remains out there forever. Quoted and interpreted until the next schmuck makes a fool of himself.

Hosts, Charles Gibson and Joan Lunden, were also known to be quite blunt with their guests. Blunt, but not in the rude sense of the word. Given their history on the network, their experience, they're simply good at what they do, which sometimes means effortlessly picking at a topic until they get a satisfactory reaction or better yet, television worthy answer. Of course there’s always a list of pre-agreed questions, carefully discussed with management and PR teams, but things have known to… slip out.

But Marianne trained him. Extensively. She flew out to New York the second this interview was arranged and spent hours in Eddie’s penthouse hotel room going over details that to most people, people not from this world, may seem minor: how to sit, how to smile, what to laugh at, the amount of seconds it should take him to answer a question. The list goes on. And now she was here, at the studio, to make sure Eddie saw a friendly face in the crowd. Someone to look at in case he got flustered at any point during the fifteen minute round.

“Before we get into the nitty gritty,” Joan begins, crossing one knee over the other, “Eddie, why don’t you tell us a little about how you and the band first got started?”

So Eddie talks. He’s charming as he tells the story, sparing a few details ‘cause he knows he doesn’t have a lot of time. He does however, crack a few jokes, including one about the list of names Gareth and Jeff brought to him one night before they all agreed on Corroded Coffin. Charles laughs before asking the next question about the band's success so far, and what he makes of it.

“Oh man, it’s so insane,” Eddie answers truthfully, “I still have days where I don’t think any of this is real. All of us in the band feel incredibly lucky, for sure.” He nods along as he speaks.

Joan and Charles take turns asking a few more general questions about the band plus the other members who couldn’t make it out today, before settling on the whole reason Eddie agreed to do this interview in the first place: promotion for the new album.

Assistance is Futile was a collection of songs about you — but that was not going to be an answer he gives today, accidentally or otherwise. Instead, the rockstar focuses attention on how the record was built. Technical language that he dumbs down slightly to make sure he’s continuously captivating his audience (Marianne’s advice). He tells them what instruments the group played around with that may not have featured on their last album, which was more classic rock than this new project. And he’s excited as he talks. Passionate.

He continues to lay out the facts. List the number of tracks it features, eleven plus two bonus songs on the extended version. He talks about the writing process, still carefully avoiding mentioning the influence. He won’t say he wrote them all during the aftermath of your breakup. He hasn’t even admitted that to you, despite the fact that you spent every waking moment together since the afternoon at Cove City Sound Studios. He knows he won’t be able to hide that for much longer, but until the album comes out and you hear the songs for yourself, he’ll keep it to himself because things have been so… great.

Sure, things weren’t back to normal. It can’t be the way it was until Eddie finds the time to speak with your management and nip this whole evil grandmother blackmail thing in the bud. At least he’s got you in some capacity. He gets to talk to you again, laugh with you. He gets to hug you, kiss you, touch you. Friends with benefits, or whatever the term is. Eddie’s just glad to be around you.

“Now, here at the studio, we got an exclusive, sneak peak listen to Assistance is Futile, and there’s a little bit of speculation between the crew about the meaning behind some of the songs.”

Boom. There it is. The dreaded topic. And it was going so well.

“Care to share where the inspiration for these lyrics struck you? Who, in particular, they might be about?”

Eddie smiles. “Give into the charade”, Marianne’s words ring in his ears, “But by any means, don’t confirm their suspicions”. Not an easy task. A slippery slope by all accounts. He ever so slightly glances in the direction of his manager who nods her head to show encouragement.

“Who do you think they’re about, Joan?” Eddie bounces the question back.

The presenter smiles. She knows she shouldn’t say. Yes, it would be good for ratings, but bringing up your name is not something that can be done lightly. She knows that. Hence why Joan hoped Eddie Munson wouldn’t be smart enough to avoid the initial question. But the rockstar’s been trained and he’s not about to mess up with two minutes to spare.

“Well, I’d say my friend Charles here. He’s got, what was that one lyric, legs for days and a wicked smile.” Joan deflects. Ever the professional.

The whole studio starts laughing. Eddie joins in, satisfied with the way this worked out.

“You’d be right on the money there, Joan.” The rockstar nods with a wide smile before continuing, “Charles Gibson has been a constant inspiration for Corroded Coffin songs. There’s not a lot to do in Hawkins, where we grew up. Gotta write what you know and my uncle has an affinity for this show.”

He turns to the camera to say hi to Wayne, “I know you’re watching.”

Then shifts to look at the hosts once more, winking at the gentleman sitting across from him.

“Charles, you sexy devil, you.”

The laughter continues. People start to clap, whistle along to Eddie’s perfectly curated response. Marianne is beaming with pride because for a brief moment, she didn’t think he could do it. There've been so many mishaps in the past, wild things the band — the curly-haired frontman in particular — have done that she’s had to either smooth over with the media or keep hidden from the public altogether. This morning she finally exhaled. He did well.

You’re laughing too. Feeling proud too as you watch him through your television screen, just like you promised Eddie you would.

Blanket covering your body, all the way up to your chin, as you sit comfortably on the couch. The smile on your face is as genuine as they come. He’s so good at this. Considering how nervous he was, how much time he spent with Marianne going over every possible scenario until his head hurt. You took a mental note to tell him later that he really had nothing to worry about. He’s a natural.

The question about his inspiration for the album didn’t surprise you. It’s pretty standard for these types of press junkets. Even more given the fact your relationship has been the talk of the town for months, especially when the two of you weren’t even together. People love to speculate.

When Eddie told you about the upcoming album, one night after you came down from another intense orgasm, you assumed he wrote about your relationship — especially the failures. Honesty came to the rockstar after only one night. Makes sense that a complete record would be next. He didn’t confirm it though, because you didn’t ask. You would know once it came out, when you purchased your own copy to listen through. Artists supporting artists, and whatnot.

“Corroded Coffin’s Assistance is Futile. Coming to a record store near you, this Thursday, October 14.” Charles Gibson announces, holding up a shiny compact disc to one of the cameras, showing off the album’s cover art: a thundering night sky, with something sinister looming inside the blood red clouds. An ode to the band's Dungeons & Dragons days.

“Eddie Munson, thank you for your time today.” Joan Lunden flashes a pearly white smile.

The rockstar returns the expression. “Thank you for having me.”

Backstage, Eddie gives Marianne a big hug. Thanking her for being here. While returning the embrace, she reassures him that’s never going to change. “Or at least until the contract ends,” his manager teases and ruffles his already wild hair before sitting down on the velvet sofa.

“So, tell me, am I flying back to LA alone?”

Eddie picks up a bag of previously opened Funyuns before leaning against the vanity. He shuffles the remainder of the onion-flavoured corn chips inside the plastic, then starts eating them, one by one.

“Yeah,” he says, shrugging as if it was an obvious answer. “We’ve got the release party for the album. The guys would kill me if I missed it.”

“I’d kill you first.”

He smirks. “Then why ask me the question?”

Marianne gives him a pointed look. One that says, no, screams, he of all people should know why. Eddie got on a private plane to New York so he could “sort something out”, then ended up staying for weeks longer than intended with no explanation. Marianne called him at the hotel multiple times, asking for a return day, but he always gave a vague answer. Then Gareth called, as did Jeff (who sort of already suspected the reason for the delayed homecoming, kudos to Holly), but Eddie continued on the road of avoidance, all while Page Six posted about sightings of him with a certain pop sensation.

“Eddie, you haven’t been this happy since—”

“I know,” he interrupts, “I know and yes, to whatever you’re thinking, but I don’t wanna talk about it now because there’s something I need to do first.”

“What do you need to do?” She asks, puzzled because in the time they’ve worked together, the rockstar has never once left her out of action. She did everything for him. That was her job. One she did gladly because she’s grown to care for these boys.

Eddie sighs, wiping his crumb covered hands on the material of his trousers. The bag of chips lays empty on the table next to him. Of course he contemplated telling Marianne everything on multiple occasions, but each time he chickened out at the last minute. He knew she could fix everything in the blink of an eye. Simply, the rockstar just didn’t feel worthy of that.

His entire life, Eddie ran away. From situations, from people, from feelings. Anything that was messy, or just became messy. He ran until the distance felt comfortable enough to continue with his life. Growing up in Hawkins, he didn’t have a Marianne. He didn’t have anyone that would stand up for him, so running became second nature. Running fixed his problems.

By the time the band hit stardom, running turned to escapism in the form of drugs and alcohol. The bubble. Under the influence, the rockstar didn’t care who cleaned up after him and Marianne was so good at her job that most of the time, Eddie didn’t even know there was a problem to run from until it was resolved.

The situation with your grandmother however, was different. It involved you.

He gave into his instincts and ran. Only this time, Eddie ran to protect you. Threats were made to potentially ruin your career — fucked up, considering the person that made them was also the person who helped kick-start your fame. And as selfish as he may seem to people that don’t know the real him, the rockstar wasn’t willing to gamble everything you built for yourself. He ran.

But Eddie was done running. He was going to fix this and he planned on doing it alone.

“What’s going on?” Marianne stands and takes a step closer, crossing her arms. Concern is starting to fill her veins, though she’s trying her best not to show it. Trying and failing.

Maybe solving this alone wasn’t the way to go.

“Someone’s been blackmailing me,” he admits eventually, reluctantly.

“What?!” Marianne just about shouts. “Who? For how long?”

“It’s uh…. It’s a complicated story.”

“Well, fuck.” She’s slightly annoyed ‘cause how could he have hidden something like this from her? This is why the band has her. Managing them, planning shit to maintain their career is only a small part of her job. Protecting these boys is a priority and blackmail is a big fucking deal.

Exhaling, Marianne lets her arms drop and proceeds to take a much less confrontational stance.

“Eddie, you know I’ve always got nothing but time for you, so spill.”

And he does. Starting right at the beginning with Chrissy Cunningham.

When Eddie stops by your place later that afternoon, he kisses you, the second you open up your apartment. He kisses you fully, deeply. He’s kicking the door closed with his boot, lips continually locked together, his hands holding you firmly by the waist. A man on a mission and the mission being to make you feel like you're floating all the damn time.

You smile against his soft lips. Mission accomplished.

“That’s one way to say hello.”

“Hello,” he whispers back, also smiling. “How was your morning?”

“Not nearly as interesting as yours,” you answer his question and turn in your spot, wanting to lead him to the couch. Eddie’s hands remain on your waist as you do so, no inclination of letting go.

MTV is on. The wild-haired rockstar instantly feels at home — a stark contrast to that first night he showed up at your door. Adrenaline pumping. Unsure of the outcome. But it was better than he could’ve imagined, dreamed. Back in your arms with little to no arguments. Back where he for sure belonged.

Honesty comes on. The video makes him smile as he effortlessly pulls your legs over his thighs, hand settling on your soft flesh and giving it a gentle squeeze. The memory of that day with you on set. Eddie wouldn’t call it acting. Hugging you, kissing you on camera. Not a tough act. Natural, actually. That was a good day. You’re thinking it too.

“Magnetic.”

“Huh?”

Eddie can’t tear his eyes away from the screen. “You’re magnetic. Utterly. I almost forgot, but I didn’t really, you know? I-I think about that day often and how much fun it was,” he rambles. It’s sweet.

“But what I replay in my mind the most is how fucking talented you are, sweetheart. A goddess in front of a camera, I swear.”

You smirk, your own mind flying to something much, much dirtier than what Eddie meant, and he flicks your leg at the institution, all while glancing at you from the corner of his brown eyes. Because there was a video camera left under the rockstars California King bed with a tape inside, a tape that could get you both — although the sexist industry you’re lucky to be a part of would blame only you, mainly — in a lot of trouble, if it ever saw the light of day. A tape for private eyes only. And Eddie wasn’t wrong, you were near damn a goddess.

“Wish we could work together again,” he says, then quickly adds, “Professionally, sweetheart, before you get any kinky ideas.”

That makes you laugh.

“Think you should focus on the album the band is about to release, hotshot. Once that’s a sure hit, then we can talk about doing something together.”

“Well, there is a box in my room, back in LA, with notebooks full of songs…”

He’s trying to be encouraging. Motivational. Really what Eddie’s doing is building up the courage to ask you to go back to Los Angeles with him. In a complete roundabout way, to be honest. The guys would call him a pussy. He was being a pussy. There was however, a lot he still needed to tell you. This whole thing with your grandma, for one. But Marianne was handling that now, and once she gave him the agreed upon sign, there was nothing stopping Eddie from screaming he loves you from all available rooftops — which he hoped to do for the first time at the place you two officially met.

And with his manager on the case, he knew it would be sooner rather than later.

“Eddie, you’re a dumbass.” Marianne states. There’s a frown on her face, but it’s not serious. Accompanied by a smile that’s giving him a little bit of hope.

“I know—”

“No,” she interrupts, “You don’t.”

He exhales. “I do, though.”

“Eddie. If you came to me when this first happened, you would’ve never lost all this time with Little Miss Perfect. The fact that you didn’t, the fact that you didn’t trust me with this information, makes you a dumbass.”

“So, you can fix this?”

“There’s a little thing called a Cease and Desist,” Marianne says as if it’s the most obvious answer in the world. And in a way, it is. “No one is going to threaten the career of my favourite client and get away with it.”

Eddie smiles. Genuinely. Something reminiscent of relief is flowing through his body, down to the tips of his toes, until he no longer feels heavy. The burden of this situation is slowly lifting.

“With your permission, I’d like to approach her team with this information. They’ll most likely also issue a cease and desist, so that her career is also protected.” Marianne says. “But I guess since all you’ve tried to do is keep her out of harm’s way, the only way you knew how, I’m assuming I have your permission without even asking for it?”

“Yes, yes, thank you.” He’s repeating over and over and over, wrapping his arms around Marianne. A hug they’d both cherish forever.

“Like I said, let’s get you to survive this record release first, okay?”

You’re looking at each other now.

“Take it day by day, Eds.”

“What if I want to skip ahead?”

There’s a lot hiding behind that question. The future is uncertain in many ways. He knows that he wants you, you know that you want him. That’s enough, but at the same time it isn’t. Day by day is easier than thinking about tomorrow, or the next day. He just loves you, which he’ll tell you soon. That’s what he wants to skip too.

On the other hand, you’re terrified. Giving into him again brought no shortage of anxiety about his past behaviour. Eddie Munson hurt you, twice. Second time worse than the first. You forgave him, yet the fear was still there. The question remained: what if he did it again? He wouldn’t, but what if he did? So taking it day by day, as it came, was easier. A shield, of sorts. Protection against hurt.

Also, it was a lot more fun to act without consequence. To just be.

Existing with him felt almost normal, even though there was nothing normal about the various interviews and photoshoots the rockstar has been doing promoting Assistance is Futile while in New York, or the long phone calls with his manager and bandmates in preparation for the release party. Nothing normal about your own career, which you’ve slowly been defrosting following the short heartbreak hiatus. Pivoting slightly towards acting as a new form of expression. So you’re reading scripts, rehearsing lines. All without expectations. Day by day.

“Skipping ahead means you, going back to LA for the release party,” you point out.

“You could come with me. The invitation is there, you know that.”

“There’s nothing I’d want more than to be there for you and the guys, Eddie, you know that.” You lean in closer, pressing your body weight into his. “But if I make an appearance, it will overshadow the album you worked really hard on and that’s not fair.”

He doesn’t say anything. Instead, pressing his lips to the side of your head, leaving a soft kiss while inhaling the sweet scent of your shampoo. He slowly nods against you, understanding your point of view.

“So we won’t see each other for a while then, huh?”

“Well, I got that recurring part in Law & Order which is filming here, so that’s a couple of months, at least, that I’ll be stuck here in New York.”

“I can visit,” he jumps in almost instantly, “And you, maybe… You can come out to see me whenever you have breaks in filming?”

“Sounds good, Eds.”

There’s a moment of silence. It shifts towards the heavy side. Eddie’s biting his tongue. He wants so badly to tell you everything he’s been keeping secret, but he knows it’s not a good idea until Marianne confirms she’s consulted your team and the cease and desist letters have been sent out. He’s just not ready to say goodbye yet. Not even for a little while. He just got you back. You’re also lost in thought. Reuniting with the Corroded Coffin frontman has been nothing short of a rollercoaster, in the best way possible. Having him here, next to you once more, kissing and touching you. And you know it was limited. That time would come knocking and he’d have to go back, while you’d need to stay. Bittersweet would be the word to describe how you feel.

“How about we focus on right now, hm?” You offer, lifting your head so that your sweet gaze catches his chocolate one. Then a short inhale later, you kiss him. Gentle, at first, although not quite a peck. His eyes close on impact as his hand reaches for your face, attaching itself like a magnet. Cradling, squeezing your cheeks.

And you smile. Fucking smile. Eddie loves it when you smile while kissing him. It drives him crazy knowing his touch makes you that happy. So he can’t help but smile too. Teeth knocking against each other in the process.

“I’ll never get tired of kissing you,” the rockstar admits.

“I’ll never get tired of kissing you, Eddie Munson.”

The hand that held his toned abdomen just a mere second ago is now not so innocently sliding in a downward trajectory. You fiddle with his leather belt, unbuckling it rather effortlessly with one hand after you press your lips against his once more. Deeper this time. Wanting.

“But distracting me from a conversation about what’s mph… next,” he mumbles as you tug at his zipper. You’re not giving him a chance to breathe. “Isn’t going to - Jesus - work.”

“Okay,” you’re teasing. It’s a whisper and Eddie’s brain short circuits ‘cause your perfectly manicured fingers are sliding into his boxers, reaching for his semi.

“So, you guys are like back together now, huh?”

Steve’s question lingers in the air for a moment. He’s glancing at his small-town friend turned worldwide phenomenon from across the table, swirling black coffee in his takeaway cup.

Eddie looks out the window at the clouds passing by.

After getting over his initial fear of flying, since he hadn’t been on a plane until his early twenties, the rockstar decided he enjoyed it a lot more than he thought he would. Things were peaceful up here — especially since he could now afford private jets. Just him and his guitar. Even when he travelled together with the guys, they all got lost in their own thing too, as did Marianne.

The upcoming release party however, prompted an invite to his little sister as well as Steve. So he knew that unfortunately this trip wasn’t going to be a quiet one.

“Something like that,” Eddie answers, turning his attention back to his friend.

Harrington nods. “That’s good, man. She’s great.”

“That she is.” Eddie fails to contain a smile.

“I’m happy for you.” Steve’s words are genuine.

“Thanks, dude.”

The short exchange is interrupted by Max’s snort. The two boys look at the redhead currently splayed out on one of the recliner seats. A book in her lap, one that she’s not really reading, but she’s keeping up appearances anyway.

“To think we wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for my genius,” she retorts, a smirk now present on her face.

Eddie laughs lightly, but doesn’t say anything. He’s looking out the window again. His mind turns to you. He misses you, even though he saw you not even a half hour ago when you said goodbye before he got on the plane. He misses you. Anxiety building since neither of you are really sure when you’d be able to see each other next. “And that’s okay,” is what you said to him in between soft kisses. He’s repeating it now.

“She’s not coming to the party, right?” Red asks her older brother, briefly breaking Eddie away from his thoughts.

The rockstar shakes his head. “No.”

“You’ll see her soon,” his sister reassures, reaching for his forearm across the aisle, squeezing.

“I know, I know.”

“Then why the sad face?” Steve points out.

Eddie wishes he was alone. Then no one would be questioning him, even though he knows it’s coming from a good place. They just care, he tries to level his emotions, they’re asking because they care.

“Our last goodbye wasn’t so good,” he answers plainly.

Luckily both Max and Steve understand. They exchange a glance between themselves before returning to whatever activity they were engaging in prior to the start of this conversation: Red buries her head in the book she wasn’t really reading and Harrington resumes listening to music on his Walkman.

Eddie is once again glancing out the small jet window. He’s once again thinking about you.

And he continues to think about you when the plane lands. In the car, on the way to his Hidden Hills home. He continues to think about you when the house fills with people that are there to style him for the release party. He’s making small talk, his mind still centred on you.

You remain the centre of his attention, even when Eddie and the band arrive at the venue, and he’s being ripped ten thousand different directions. Picture here, sign this, talk to this person. He enjoys a drink and he’s still thinking about you. He’s wishing you were here.

The guys are introduced to come up on stage and even though Eddie is on cloud nine for this release, super proud of the record they put together, he’s wishing you were here to celebrate this with him.

He thinks about you as he sings one of the songs. Breaking News — a song about you, of course.

There comes a point during the night, a split second during which Eddie stops thinking about you. Not for any particular reason. Nothing spectacular happens for him to do so, he just… does. But it’s only a fleeting moment. He regrets it as soon as he realises. He especially regrets it when Marianne approaches him, a concerned look spread across her usually composed features — although the rockstar doesn’t pick up on her expression immediately.

“What did you think of the performance?” Eddie asks, smiling wide.

She doesn’t answer. Instead, she reaches for the half-empty glass in his hand and sets it aside before exhaling a sigh.

He furrows his brows, the smile fading as quickly as it appeared.

“Eddie, there’s been an accident.”

thank you for reading! really appreciate the endless & continuous support!

celebrity skin. masterlist

& tagging some cool ppl that expressed interest: @eviethetheatrefreak , @thirddeadlysin , @haylaansmi , @nope-thanks , @tlclick73 , @vintagehellfire , @ashlynnkennedy , @avalon-wolf , @sidthedollface2 , @astheni-a , @bebe07011 , @aysheashea , @papillonoirsworld , @vol2eddie, @spideyanakin-interacts , @rogers-sweatbands , @mimsie95 , @mmunson86 , @eddiesguitarskills , @ohmeg , @hereforshmut , @eg-dr3amer3 (if your user is crossed out, it means the tag isn’t working. pls check you’ve enabled tagging in your settings)

#eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #rockstar!eddie munson #rockstar!eddie x reader #rockstar!eddie smut #rockstar!eddie x you #eddie munson story #eddie munson series #celebrity skin.

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soaps-mohawk · 1 day

Note

I just saw someone talk about Simon Riley being a rapist and the only way they tried to confirm it is by saying that he is a war criminal and all soldiers are misogynistic and sexist and they also talked about how he dreamt of hurting women in the comics when that's quite literally a normal reaction by being raped by both men and women (what I mean is that abused people sometimes dream of becoming someone they're not and don't want to be) but they conveniently forgot to mention how that "dream" was a nightmare. (Just wanted to rant about this and see your opinion)

The sigh I let out when I saw this ask this morning.

I'm so sick and tired of seeing this discourse. Not just in this fandom but in every fandom. Maybe it's just because I'm old and my frontal lobe is fully developed, or maybe it's because I was in fandom back in the days where there were no tags. You were lucky if you got a warning at the beginning of a fic. Most fics you walked in blind and if you didn't like something? You hit the back button and found something else.

This sudden mainstreaming of fandom has ruined these spaces. People come in, refuse to "learn the rules" that most of us learned by just existing in these spaces and watching others interact. There were no written rules back then. We learned by observing and occasionally being guided on fandom etiquette by those more experienced than us. Now it's just like people come in expecting fandom to be like every other space on the internet and then get defensive and angry when they realize it's not. Fandom is cringy. It's nerdy. It's happy and sunshine and it's dark and ugly like every media out there. Us creators and those of us more experienced in fandom have been screaming how to exist in fandom spaces from the rooftops but no one is listening and then everyone wonders why creators are leaving these spaces. Why fandoms keep getting abandoned.

All of that aside, this discourse about FICTIONAL characters pisses me off. Simon Riley is a FICTIONAL character. He has no morality, there is no right or wrong because he's FICTIONAL. You can make him do whatever you want to do because he's NOT REAL. You can give him wings and have him fly and guess what?? Cool, that can happen because he's NOT REAL. You want to make him a rapist? Cool, you can do that because he's FICTIONAL. You can make him whatever you want to make him because he's a character. He's not a living, breathing human being. There are no consequences of his actions because he's FICTIONAL!!!

Don't even get me started on this sudden discourse about dark fics and dead dove that's appeared recently. Dark media has existed for literal centuries. The Epic of Gilgamesh from 1800 BCE. The Odyssey. Mostellaria by Plautus. The Castle of Otranto published in the 1700s. Frankenstein. Dracula. The works of Edgar Allan Poe. Lolita. Hell, look at the Bible. The Bible, especially the old testament, is fucked up. Even in the watered down, bastardized King James version, the things the old testament "God" supposedly did, when you sit and actually think about them outside the lens of religious brainrot, are super fucked up.

People have been creating dark media for a long time. Horror has existed for a long time because it plays to our worst fears. It gives us a safe way to express those fears and to experience them without having to experience them first hand. You wouldn't bitch at a horror movie director for including things like rape and gore and murder in their movies?? So why is writing different? You think every horror movie director agrees with the things they portray on screen? You think every horror movie director would go out and murder someone just because they made a movie about it? No, because we're allowed to portray things in all forms of media, we're allowed to write things without morally agreeing with them. Guess what, most people that write rape or assault or violence, aren't going out and doing those things in real life. They don't support those things in real life. In fact, people that write dark fanfics are some of the loudest protesters against those things.

If you want to make Simon Riley a real person, guess what? He's not going to be even morally grey. Most people in the military are not good people. They're not. The people that are good people in the military, or were in the military, are the ones saying that the loudest. People that got tricked into joining, people that got promised things, people that did it because they had no other choice and then realized what it was really like after getting in? Those are the people to listen to. Not Call of Duty, not the people trying to convince you to join because they're glorified sales people and have a quota to fill. Look up videos of what happened in Iraq and Afghanistan at the hands of American and British soldiers. You would not like Simon Riley if he were a real person.

But he's not real. He's FICTIONAL. Even as a fictional character, he's not a good person. So many Call of Duty fans put on the blinders and ignore the fact that these men are out here committing awful acts of violence and killing people because they're "the good guys." People love to forget that Price literally kidnapped a woman and a child and had them held at gunpoint to get information out of someone. Not only that, he was okay with it. If he were a real person that did that, you would not be questioning if he were a good person or not. You can tell the people that have never played the games or watched playthroughs, who only know these characters through the lenses of fanfics and artwork and headcanons.

Call of Duty is military propaganda. They paint these men as heroes, make it easy to put the blinders up and ignore the things that are happening, the things they're doing so that they can convince young men that they want to do that and they should join the military so they can go out and do that too. That's Call of Duty's audience. That's who they're creating these games for. These young, impressionable boys who get excited by the violence and the action who will go on to fill quota numbers for recruiters. Call of Duty was not made for us, the people writing fanfiction and creating art for it. This side of the Call of Duty fandom will be the first to tell you all of this.

This side of the fandom creates fanworks which would turn Activision's eyes red. We babygirlify their military propaganda because it actively goes against what Activision is trying to do. It goes against what Call of Duty is at its core. Sure, some people water it down a lot, and others keep it more realistic to what these men would be like in real life, because it's FICTION. You can portray these characters however you want because that's what fiction is for.

And guess what, anon? Rape kinks exist. Consensual non-consent exists. It's well known. And guess what? Victims of sexual assault and rape can develop those kinks as a coping mechanism. Here's a study from the NIH website, and if that's too complex for you, here's a VICE news article that uses that study. People can write rape and rape kinks and CNC and noncon and not support it in real life. People can write those things to bring awareness to the fact that they happen to people in real life, or because people in real life have those kinks. People write those things to help victims, to support them. It's cathartic. Dark media most often is created for catharsis. It gives people an outlet, and it allows people to experience those things in a safe, controlled environment for whatever reason.

And that's the thing, anon. People don't have to give anyone a reason for why the consume that kind of media. Creators don't owe anyone an explanation as to why they create it. It's none of your business, and if you're not comfortable with it, then don't consume it. You can turn off the TV if a horror movie is too much for you. People walk out of theaters all the time because a movie is not what they were expecting, be it because it was bad or because it was too graphic or violent or disgusting. You start reading a book and you don't like it for whatever reason? You put the book down and pick up another. Why do people have such a problem with not reading fanfics they don't like? Why do people have such a hard time just blocking creators that make things they don't want to see. Most dark fic and dead dove creators put ample warnings on their blog and their posts. That's why those tags exist. You don't like it and you don't want to see it? Then block and move on and let others enjoy what they want to enjoy.

You pearl clutchers are ruining fandom and soon there won't be anything for you to enjoy. If you can't handle fandom, then don't be in it. There is no algorithm here. You're going to see things you don't want to see and it's very easy to just block and filter tags. There was a time on Tumblr where you couldn't filter tags. I remember those days. You had to download the X-kit extension to block things, and that only worked on desktop. The fact Tumblr gave us the option to filter tags on the site and on the app was a big deal when it was rolled out. I remember so many people that didn't want to use the app when it first came out because you couldn't block potentially triggering tags.

It's not a creator's problem if you were triggered by their media. Life doesn't come with trigger warnings and it's a blessing that it's become so normalized to include warnings at the beginnings of fics. There's websites that exist for other forms of media that will give trigger warnings. If you can look up trigger warnings for a movie and decide not to watch it, you can look at the trigger warnings for fics and decide not to interact with it. You're not out here emailing the directors and producers of movies that include triggers you don't like, telling them they're awful people for including those things in their movie and they shouldn't. Yet you have no problem coming into the comments and inboxes creators who do this FOR FREE because we wrote one dark fic. Because we wrote something that's triggering to you.

And yes, some abuse victims go on to be abusers, some people continue that cycle because they don't have the help and support to break it. It's a sad thing that happens, but it happens. It happens in the fictional world and it happens in real life. People can make that happen to fictional characters for whatever reasons they want.

I've written dark fics. I've written several. I consume "disturbing" media for fun. I've read books and watched movies that would send these pearl clutchers to the hospital. Hell, I've probably written things (some published, some that will never see the light of day) that would turn these pearl clutchers inside out. Guess what? That's okay because it's FICTION. It's cathartic. I don't have to give my reasons why because it's no one's business except those I decide to tell because I trust them and I know they'll support me. I don't support those things in real life. Just because I write for Call of Duty doesn't mean I support the things the game portrays. If you consume Call of Duty media be it the games or fanfiction, does that mean you support what the game supports? What the creators of the games support? What militaries around the world support?

Think about that next time.

I’ve made my stance very clear here before, but I’ll do it again. In real life, I am anti military, anti war, anti gun violence, anti genocide, anti fascism, anti terf, anti homophobia, anti conservative, anti rape, anti domestic violence, anti colonialism and pro choice.

Just because I may create or consume media with those things in it, does not mean I support them. It's high time some of these pearl clutchers learn that.

The next time you want to come into a creator's inbox or comments and spew hatred towards them because of the things they write, why don't you do something useful with your time instead.

This will be my only discussion on this topic. I will not be answering any more asks like this. I will delete and block anyone who tries to come "well actually"-ing into my inbox. If you don't agree with this stance, then get off my blog and block me.

#free Palestine #free congo #free Sudan #free everyone living under a colonial apartheid regime #this was not directed at you anon #I just used you in the general sense #unless you think like that then it was #answered

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ragzonacamrencruise · 3 days

Note

Azutara #49

oooooh prompt 49 is boss/intern au

this is going to be fun 😈

***

Katara bites her lip in anticipation. "Should I be scared?"

"Oh, definitely." Sokka nods his head without taking his eyes of the screen. "Your knees should be giving way underneath you right now, trust me."

Katara gulps. She looks all around in nervousness. It's a huge bull-pen. Eight in the morning and the whole area is already bustling, telephones ringing insistently, loud chatter providing a strange ambience, exchanges of good morning and news about their weekends.

Everyone's pristine and crisp here at Agni Incorp., and Katara already feels overwhelmed. She has no idea how her brother does it sometimes, being the Head of Engineering at the most prestigious and posh company like this one. She's just managed to land an internship opportunity here, due to her brother's heavy recommendation, and it's just her first day! Because the company had been looking for young and brilliant minds to do their work, she'd been instantly selected by someone called Zhu Li.

She tries not to worry too much. But Sokka's recent updates on who'll be leading them for the next 6 months had already made her gut bottom out.

Azula Agni.

People knew very little about her. Mostly because she always worked in the shadows of their company, Sokka had told her. There's a reason the main hall, Which Ozai Agni runs, is somewhere below them in an easily accessible, busy floor, rather than high up at the top floor, which Azula was allocated to.

It also did not help when Sokka told her about the time Azula had made an employee literally pee his pants the very first day she arrived here at the Strategic Management Department. Sokka had been complaining the whole time about what an engineer is doing 'strategically managing', but then he'd also said that he's never worked more in his entire life. Azula's been taking over things here. She's brought forth humongous changes that always boost up the sidelines.

There's a reason they call her the Shadow Director of the entire company in just two months.

Sokka's eyes lift up to Katara from where he's stitting at his desk, a lowly shift from what he was accustomed to in Ozai's floor. "Don't worry. You're a smart girl. You'll fit in just fine. Also, make sure not to talk back. She hates that."

Okay, now Katara's pretty sure that Azula isn't that haughty. Sure she's a little intimidating from what she's been hearing from not just Sokka, but literally everyone present at the bull-pen, talking about how they need to get something right cuz if Azula finds even a single mistake, she's gonna burn the whole place to the ground.

But how bad can it be, right?

Right?

Wrong.

All heads suddenly turn to the elevator when it dings sharply at 8 on the nose. Silence falls heavily inside the great hall and Katara's heart rate increases tenfold. The elevator door opens and it first reveals a short woman with Harry Potter spectacles on her button nose, her hair in a bun and her body clad in official dark green, business suit. She has short bangs that frame her forehead and she walks out in crisp strides.

And then, Katara's heart really does stop.

Behind her, is one of the most beautiful girls she's ever laid her eyes on, if not the most beautiful girl in the world. Her skin is pale, compared to Katara's darker complexion, and her hair is also in a bun, but two strands of hair loose from the bun frame her face perfectly in the most mind-numbingly gorgeous way possible. Katara tries not to drool. But it's hard not to.

She steps out of the elevator, her posture as straight as a rod. Unlike the first woman, she takes slow, deliberate steps into the bull-pen, sliding in, right into the middle of the whole hall. She pauses.

From this angle, Katara can see that the girl is quite young. In fact, Katara's sure she's not older than herself. She's clad in a simple but quite a fine suit Katara's ever seen. It's a black shirt with a deep red blazer thrown over her delicate torso, completing the look with a black pant and a red tie.

The girl turns her head in deadly precision, sweeping the room with her eyes, looking at every single person present. If it's not for the occasional telephone ringing somewhere in the corner, you could've droped a feather and it would've made noise, Katara's pretty sure.

Everybody is on alert and that immediately puts Katara on edge, her body stiff as a post. The girl's head is turning, slowly, and for some strange reason, Katara feels like she's going to pass out, from all the anticipation and the stress that this whole situation brings her.

When the girl's head turns completely to her right, the first thing Katara notices is that her eyes are striking golden. A rare gold mixed with brown that she hasn't seen on anyone ever.

And she almost does pass out when those eyes suddenly fall directly on her.

She lets out a silent whimper, not really sure why she's having a physical reaction to the girl just looking at her. But it's not just any look. It's the kinda look that could melt stone if you point at it long enough. Katara feels her face heat up under the scrutinizing gaze, completely giving herself over to the girl's stare.

Then it's gone. The eyes are completely gone and they move on to Sokka standing next to her and then to the next person whoever that is, and Katara's breath returns back to her lungs.

She feels her head spin for a second, but she holds her composture. And suddenly, there's a snap of fingers in front of her face. She looks up and almost jumps out of her skin when she finds the girl looking directly at her, again.

But this time, she gestures with a finger to follow her into her office, and then, like a whirlwind, she's gone. Completely out of sight.

Katara remains frozen in place, her brain in a frenzy, not really sure what just happened. Chatter and indistinct noise returns back to the bull-pen and Katara feels the world come crashing down.

She feels a sharp nudge to her ribs. This time, she does jump out of her skin. "Wha-?"

"What are you standing here for?!" Sokka whisper-yells in her ear. "Azula just called you into her office!"

Katara blinks. "Wait- That's Azula?!"

"No, it was the queen of Ba Sing Se." Sokka gives her a look. "OF COURSE IT WAS AZULA! And if you aren't in her office in about 10 seconds, she's gonna burn the whole place down. Go! Go! Go!"

He pushes Katara heavily towards her office door at the end of the bull-pen. She stumbles across, trying to find the strength to face the golden-eyed girl again. For all the accounts she's heard, she didn't expect Azula Agni to be as pretty as that. In fact, to be honest, Katara was imagining Ursala the sea witch the whole time.

When she nears the door, she notices a big, secluded booth, where the lady with the Harry Potter spectacles is seated, her eyes lazer focused on the computer screen in front of her, looking like she's going over a dozen different things at once. And it hasn't even been like 5 minutes since she got here.

Feeling Katara's presence loom over her, she talks without looking up from her work. "Tell her I asked you to be here and she'll leave you alone." She states, her voice almost sounding like a robot.

Katara frowns, not really sure what that means, she doesn't really stick around for clarifications, seeing that the woman is already back to her work, not that she ever looked up.

Katara sucks in a deep breath before she raises her hand to knock but the woman's robotic voice beside her halts her. "Don't bother. She hates when people knock."

Katara's hand falls limply to her side. Okay, so this Azula seems to hate a lot of things. It's almost as if the things she hates are literally everything that makes a human, well, human.

She hesitantly opens the door, her body strangely building up confidence that she really needs right now as she steps through into the room.

It's huge. Everything is huge. The first thing she notices is the giant floor to ceiling glass window that has this incredible view over Republic City, as if it's some kind of a palace that governs over the whole of the city. The second thing she notices is the deep red couch placed right beside the window, and how fucking comfortable it looks. And only then does her eyes fall on the desk that is placed far inside the rectangle room, and the most comfortable swivelling chair she's seen, occupied by a tiny figure clad in red and black.

Katara looks at her nervously for a second, before walking inside, her confidence fading with each step. When she gets closer, Azula's face becomes clearer and well-defined and Katara has to physically stop herself from ogling.

A few seconds pass and Katara doesn't know what to do with herself, standing there awkwardly, staring at the girl. Then suddenly, the golden eyes fall on her and Katara has to stop herself from falling down on the ground with the sheer force of the glance.

"Who are you? Why are you here." The girl demands after a second, leaning back in her chair.

Katara blinks. "You called me here-"

"I was talking about your general presence in this building." each word is ice-cold, hitting like bullets inside Katara's brain. "Are you a spy?"

"Spy?"

"To the Cabbage Corp."

"No. Of course, not." Katara's well aware of the rivalry between the Cabbage Corp., and Agni Incorporation. She'd even briefly considered applying for a job in the Cabbage Corp., before her brother pestered her to come work here.

Azula doesn't answer. Instead, she just narrows her eyes, and Katara knows that she's looking for an explanation. So she provides her with one instantly. "I'm the new intern here." Azula's eyes narrow to slits, and Katara continues, noticing it. "Today's my first day."

Azula still doesn't answer, her face now sporting a full-on scowl. Katara immediately panics, not really knowing what she should be saying here. She squeezes her brain in a hurry, and then suddenly, she remembers.

"I was selected by her." Katara jerks her thumb in the general direction of the robotic lady sitting outside Azula's office.

That seems to do it. Azula's eyebrows immediately raise up slightly. "Zhu Li selected you?"

Katara nods slowly, finally putting a face to the name Zhu Li.

"An intern for what?" Azula asks her sharply.

Katara gulps. "I was told I needed to be assesed for at least a week before getting assigned for a catagory of work that I would go to."

Golden eyes scrutinize her for a long minute silently, making her feel suddenly naked. She looks all around the office room awkwardly, not really strong enough to meet those sharp, calculating eyes anymore.

"You will shadow Zhu Li for not one but two weeks. Learn what and why of the things we do here. When I get a report from Zhu Li at the end of the two weeks, I'll decide whether to keep you or kill you."

Wait- Kill her?!

Katara's eyes widen comically.

"Dismissed." Azula waves her hand non-chalantly, and Katara feels her feet getting a life of their own, following the order Azula Agni's hand gave them.

When she comes out the door, Zhu Li's voice sounds beside her. "How long?"

Katara turns to her, her eyes still not back to normal from the shock. "Two weeks. I'm supposed to shadow you for two weeks before she apparantly keeps me or kills me."

And only then Zhu Li looks up from her hectic typing on the computer, giving her a smirk. "Then you better start right away."

...

It feels like a whole year was cramped into one week, cuz that's how long the week was for Katara. Her neck hurts, her feet hurt, her back hurts and even her butt hurts!

She now understands why this was such a big deal. Why when she got here, all heads were either buried in their work or drowning in copius amounts of diluted cactus juice, cuz this shit is hectic.

She was looking forward to her weekend like she was crazy. She'd followed Zhu Li around like a puppy, taking notes of her notes, keeping track of Azula's schedule that Zhu Li had provided her with, and typing through endless amounts of transcripts of meetings after meetings Azula seemed to attend.

It's Friday afternoon and Katara can't wait to hit the bed in the lovely apartment she shares with Sokka.

She'd had a couple of run ins with Azula, her golden eyes poring into her soul every time she looked at her. And if Katara has learned anything in the past week, it was that Azula was ruthless.

She always wears red and black, and always holds her poise. Every time Azula walks into the bull-pen at sharp 8 o clock, she scans the room completely before heading into her office without fail. Katara's never once seen her lose her composture, sharp and to the point all the freaking time.

Katara still hasn't had the privilege of attending Azula's meetings. But she can imagine what it's like, just by reading through the transcripts. Every word she types as Azula's is pure golden, akin to her eyes. They hold such brevity and clarity that Katara can't help but be fascinated by the girl.

Every time she walks into a room, she holds this kind of regality, as if she was born to rule over them all, and Katara shudders thinking of the way Azula's eyes seems to peruse her, leaving her breathless and unnerved with just a singe glance.

The intern shakes her head, to pull herself away from day-dreaming. She's almost done with typing out the transcript for the meeting Azula attended to in the morning. And another meeting seems to be going on now. If she's done typing that out too, she's free to go and enjoy her weekend. So, her fingers fly on the keyboard as fast as they could possibly go.

She suddenly pauses, her eyes drawing attention to one line from Azula in the meeting minutes laid out on her desk :

"Perfection is always one step better than what you thought was perfect."

Katara blinks, flabbergasted. That is one of the most thoughtful things she's ever heard someone say. Or in this case, seen. And Azula's said it in a room full of the board of directors. The amount of power she holds just stuns Katara. The way she demands respect from every one that meets her is mind-blowing really.

It takes a long moment for Katara to move on from that line, as she wills herself to start typing again. She gradually forgets what's happening all around her, as she drowns herself in her work, making progress at record speed.

She's almost done with the work when she hears her name.

"Katara." Zhu Li is looking directly at her, standing before Katara's desk with a phone pressed against her ear. When Katara looks up snapping her eyes away from the monitor, Zhu Li gestures with her eyes and a tilt of her head to follow her.

Katara immediately springs into action, grabbing her notepad and pen, to rush behind Zhu Li. If she's supposed to be Zhu Li's shadow, she's gonna be just that.

Zhu Li makes her way to the other side of the bull-pen, where the meeting room is. Katara's heart starts beating faster when Zhu Li leads her straight to the meeting room, opening the door.

Katara's stomach flips in excitement. She's never been to the meetings and she's eager to see one where Azula's at the top of her game. Zhu Li steps inside through the door, and Katara follows right behind her.

". . . preserving the quality but also the cost. Design B is fuel efficient as well." Azula's saying, standing at the head of the table. When Zhu Li walks in, Azula's eyes snap to her. "Anything important, Zhu Li?"

Her tone is dangerous, and Katara's been here long enough to read it as, "This better be important or i'm gonna fire you for interrupting my meeting."

"Are you sure you wanna hear it here?" Zhu Li asks, looking around the meeting table, filled with board members and Katara guesses, the top order people of the company.

Azula narrows her eyes, seeming to contemplate it. But then she nods once, giving Zhu Li a green light.

Zhu Li hangs up her phone, the one that was pressed against her ear before saying, "Our shipment's been stolen."

Katara's eyes widen.

So does Azula's. "What?" She snaps.

All eyes in the room swivel to Zhu Li.

"I got the news just now." Zhu Li says, her usually robotic voice now tinted with a dash of worry. "An entire shipment's been stolen."

Shocked whispers begin to erupt from all around the table.

"Which shipment?" Azula asks, her brows furrowing together.

"The one with the parts for our new airship design." Zhu Li is quick to answer.

Azula breathes out a quiet curse. "Okay. I'll look into it."

One of the board members pushes his chair back and stands up. "You'll look into it?! Really?! That's all you have to say?!"

Azula braces her palms on the table in front of her and leans forward, hanging her head.

"Yeah." Another member quips. "We've just lost our latest technology. And all you have to offer is looking into it?!?!"

Another voice speaks up. "Having our valuable shipments stolen isn't exactly very strategic of you, is it? And my sources have reason to believe that this has been happening for months now. Maybe it's time for you to step down and let Mr. Zuko take care of things here, Miss Azula. Shouldn't you be taking action already? Looking into it isn't really going to help, now is it-?"

Azula snaps her head up and the asshole that was talking shuts his mouth in a hurry.

The whole room falls silent when they notice the look Azula's giving the guy. A chill runs up Katara's spine, and she permanently decides that she definitely does not want to be at the receiving end of that piercing glare.

"Loosing composture in a time like this isn't going to help either." Azula's voice is even and cold. "So, unless you have a trick up your insolent little sleeves, I'd like to see you all presenting your design idea on another day. The meeting's adjourned."

Everybody shoots out of their seats in a hurry, wanting to get the hell away from Azula's raising wrath before they get caught in the middle of it.

"Your father will be hearing about this when he returns back from Ba Sing Se, Miss Azula." The asshole says before walking out of the room.

Azula just stares at his retreating figure, her face surprisingly even.

"Zhu Li." Azula says.

"Yes, Miss Agni?" Zhu Li perks up.

"My office. Now."

...

The door to Azula's office automatically shuts close the second Katara walks into it. Azula's already pacing back and forth in front of her desk as Zhu Li walks up to her.

"It's the Cabbage Corp., I'm sure of it." The secretary says.

Azula stops on her tracks, mid-pace. "Of course it is. Who else would it-" Then her eyes suddenly fall on Katara and she stops talking.

Zhu Li seems to follow her line of sight. "Oh, don't worry. Katara's fine. We need all hands on deck if we're gonna handle this."

"And you think she's capable of it?" Azula points a lazy finger at Katara.

"More than." Zhu Li says and Katara feels a rush of affection towards the woman.

Azula nods once before taking in a deep breath. "Zhu Li . . ."

"Yes?"

Azula stares at her for a second long, before her sculpted full lips curve up in a smirk. "They swallowed the bait and the whole damn hook!"

Zhu Li's usually neutral face morphs into a genuinely surprised one. "Wait- WHAT?!"

Azula lets out a loud guffaw suddenly, throwing her head back and clutching onto her chest tightly.

Zhu Li looks at her like she's gone completely crazy. "Azula?!"

"Hmm?" Azula hums, before losing it and staring to laugh again.

"What is going on?!" Zhu Li panics, and Katara can't help but silently watch the whole debacle. "What bait?!"

Azula wipes at the corner of her eyes. "Oh god, this is perfect!"

Zhu Li blinks at her. "Should I be worried?!"

"No." Azula says before humming in mirth again, letting out a small chuckle.

Azula walks over to her swivel chair and plops down heavily. Zhu Li and Katara take the queue, confused out of their minds, and sit down on the chairs opposite to Azula's across the desk.

"Okay." Azula clears her throat. Then she looks at both Zhu Li and Katara in the eye with mirth dancing in her normally striking cold eyes. "What I'm about to say, must not leave this room untill and unless I give you explicit permission to do so."

Zhu Li nods and Katara does the same, already not believing her luck.

"Especially you, new girl." Azula's eyes fall on Katara. "If I find out you're a leak, it'll be years before the cops shovel out your bones."

Katara gulps, her eyes widening.

"Will you just tell us already?" Zhu Li impatiently asks.

Azula rolls her eyes. "Fine. The whole shipment? That was my bait. And the Cabbage Corp., gobbled it up hook and meat."

Zhu Li gives her a look. "So you're saying, you purposefully left a shipment unattended for the Cabbage heads to take it?"

"Yes." Azula leans back in the chair and crosses her legs, fingers clasping in front, her elbows resting on the arm-rest.

"Why would you do that?!" Zhu Li sounds annoyed. "You know they've been swiping our stuff for months right?"

"Yes. And that's exactly why I was forced to come up with this."

Zhu Li raises her brow. "You have a catch." It's not really a question but a statement.

"Of course I do." Azula leans forward, waving her hand. "I'm not an idiot."

Zhu Li holds her silence for a second before speaking. "Cameras?"

"The size of a pea." Azula smirks. "It can even fit in a pen." She says before tapping one one of the many pens kept in a cup on her desk.

"And if they found it out?"

"Oh, I'm counting on it. It'll be really nice to see the look on their faces if they discover it, don't you think?" Azula types something quickly in her keyboard and then a second later she turns the whole monitor of her computer towards us. "This is going to be my soap opera from now on. Zhu Li, make sure to get some fire flakes, yes?"

Zhu Li's too busy looking at the screen. There are at least 12 camera footage that Katara notices is definitely live, trained on a bunch of people gathered around a huge warehouse, playing Pai Sho. Near them are huge containers with the Agni Incorp., emblem on them. Clearly, they're unaware of the little eyes that are watching their every move. What's even interesting is that the emblem of Cabbage Corp, is blatantly visible behind their Pai Sho table.

Katara almost face-palms at their stupidity. Thank god Sokka insisted her on joining Agni Incorp., huh?

"Are they really this dumb?" Zhu Li's face screws up in disgust. "Good work, Miss Azula." She stands up. "I'll make some calls to Long Feng, arranging a meet up."

"Make sure you stay quiet about this." Azula warns. "I wanna see that scum's face personally when he realises what's coming for him."

Zhu Li gives Azula a smile before clip-clopping her way out of the office.

Katara should've left with her. She should be helping Zhu Li set up the meeting. Yet, the wheels in her head are turning and she stays rooted to her chair, mind racing a hundred miles per second.

A snap in front of her face, jolts her awake from the spiral she just fell into. She looks up to find Azula's fingers in front of her face, looking at her with a slight tint of annoyance.

"I said, 'dismissed'. And I believe that's your cue to exit my office immediately." Azula is saying, but Katara's not interested.

Katara's brilliant blue eyes snap to Azula. "What will your meeting with Long Feng be about?"

Azula stares at her. "Do not take advantage of your position, new girl. These are matters that do not require your concern."

Katara's face hardens. "I've typed enough transcripts of your meetings in the past week to know more about your management than any other person on this whole floor." She states. But then she tilts her head slightly to the side. "Well, except Zhu Li, of course, but that's Zhu Li."

Azula leans forward in her chair and places her forearms on the desk, clasping her fingers.

Katara mentally cheers herself for speaking up and continues, hearing no response from Azula. "If I were a spy, I'd be halfway to Ba Sing Se by now, selling all your information. But I didn't. So, tell me. What are you going to discuss with the Cabbage Corp's first director?"

Azula scans her face for a long moment. So long that Katara almost ups and leaves from the sheer weight of her gaze. It's piercing and calculative, making Katara squirm in her seat, feeling oddly heated and flustered.

Azula speaks finally, much to Katara's relief. "I was thinking of giving him the scare of his life. But I haven't really gotten around to the details yet."

Katara's face lights up.

This is it. This is the perfect opportunity laying itself in front of her and Katara reaches out and grasps it so freaking tightly, you'd think she's crazy.

"They've been giving you hell for the past few months, right? What if I tell you, that we can take their obvious stupidity and use it to bleed them dry?"

Azula's brows lift up ever so slightly. She stares at Katara a second longer before yielding. "What are you suggesting?"

The smirk that takes up Katara's face could've summoned a fleet of dark spirits. "The perfect scam." She sneers, her mind already racing, making out the details.

...

The clip-clop of Azula's heels probably alerted them or something, Katara isn't sure, but the moment they enter an empty warehouse for the meeting with Long Feng, the little group huddled together right at the middle of the room turn to look at them.

"Ah!" A guy, almost in his 50's, with long hair plaited behind him and adorned in an extremely exquisite kimono, tilts his chin up, turning to Azula and Azula alone. "Miss Azula. We were expecting you for a while now."

"No, you were not." Azula's quick to reply.

The meeting was set up for 4 o clock Saturday afternoon and Katara was pretty sure they were walking in right on the nose of it, given the obsession Azula had for being perfectly on time. No, scratch that. Being perfect all the time, Katara thinks.

Zhu Li had told her that Azula had specifically asked for the 'new girl' for the meeting, and Katara couldn't help but feel euphoric. Every time she's even thinking of her boss, she gets all dizzy and alert at the same time, it's annoying really.

Now, walking behind, just shy of Azula's steps, she's sure they look like professional demons, here to destroy Cabbages, not with swords, but with pens and words.

A smile almost takes up Katara's face at the thought, but she schools her features. No, professionals are supposed to hold a neutral expression, practiced and poised. She glances slightly over to Azula, the perfect example and straightens her back on instinct.

When they near the small group of elite officials, Azula halts abruptly, in a calculated step that only she can master, and Katara almost stumbles behind her, before regaining her composture just as quickly.

A young guy suddenly appears in front of us, carrying a huge video-camera on his shoulder.

Azula rolls her eyes. "Seriously, Mr. Feng? The camera crew again?"

"If we're going to make a deal, I need all the precautions, Miss Azula." The guy with the long plaites looks smug. Katara realises him as the First director of the Cabbage Corp. "I'm surprised you didn't arrange for the same." He cocks his head and gives a smirk that's supposed to indicate his silent victory or something.

Even Katara knows it's a pathetic attempt. And a poorer execution. She can't even begin to think how Cabbage Corp., even achieved this level of power in the market.

"Oh, I like to keep things simple." Azula says before tapping the suit pocket on her chest, which holds a rather unique pen.

Katara's eyes widen when she realises what's inside that pen.

Hot diggity dog! Azula's amazing!

Long Feng's smirk falters as he catches on too. But then he manages to boost his composture back. "Shall we begin?"

...

"Your resources just took a massive hit, according to my sources." Long Feng crosses his legs. "You're at the brink of collapse, if you don't recompense yourself fast. Why would I want to deal with you?"

Azula doesn't answer. She stares at him without a single expression on her face. Katara squirms in her seat. They've sat down for like, what, ten minutes? And this guy already thinks he owns Azula. It's pathetic because Katara knows what's gonna hit him. And the second-hand embarrassment that she's feeling for him right now is unbearable.

Long Feng, seeing that Azula isn't going to answer him any time soon, continues. "Since I have a particular interest in watching other companies shine and provide me with a better competition, I'd like to offer you financial aid. To recover from your loss. What do you say?"

Azula smiles. "I think you're very generous. But I had something else in mind."

Long Feng narrows his eyes. "Oh?"

Azula looks all around the warehouse, non-chalantly, before letting out a short breath. "A merger."

Her words hang in the air. Katara's face can't help itself but break out into a slight smirk. The whole thing was her idea and she's never been prouder for coming up with anything than when she came up with this. But Azula's making it 10 times better.

Long Feng looks at Azula for a long moment. Then he bursts out laughing. He laughs so hard that he almost falls out of his chair.

"Y- You're serious?!" He asks inbetween peels of laughter, before guffawing out loud again.

Azula looks at him with a smile on her chiseled face. She holds her hand out, and Katara immediately gets her cue. The blue-eyed girl carefully fishes out the laptop from the bag she's holding and opens it.

Live footage of the hidden cameras placed in Azula's stolen shipments, starts to play and Katara instantly places the laptop on her boss's extended arm.

Azula doesn't even look at it, when she turns it around towards Long Feng.

And, oh boy. Katara's pretty sure she would watch how the colour and mirth drains from Long Feng's face, over and over again for the rest of her life after she gets hold of Azula's pen camera footage. It's just so damn satisfying when his laughter slowly turns to chuckles and finally stops abruptly as he makes sense of what's being shown to him.

"I believe we have an excellent deal in our hands. It's a shame about your generous offer though, Mr. Feng. I might not accept it, considering my busy schedule of managing two companies simultaneously from now on. I'll even be kind enough to let you work in the inner circle of the board after the merger, if you're willing."

Long Feng's eyes almost fall out of his head in shocked rage. He grits his teeth to the point where it makes a racket and echoes along the large warehouse.

"My secretary will meet you in a week's time, with the necessary documents regarding our merger. Be sure to bring your camera crew too! They're most welcome! Good day, Mr. Feng."

Azula stands up and turns on her heels, walking crisply away from the chaos she just caused. Katara follows right behind, not exactly sure why she's so fucking turned on at the moment.

...

[Three months later]

Katara's desk is filled with notes and diagrams and draft proposals of anything and everything Azula's been engaging with. It's late. Friday night, 10 PM to be precise. Katara leans back in her chair with a sigh of relief, looking up and all around, having completed her work just moments ago, observing and absorbing how strange it is to see the bull-pen so empty.

She's beat and would do anything to have a nice, long, warm shower and a comfortable snuggle only her bed gives.

She packs her things up from the mess of her desk, tidying up a bit so that she won't have to worry about it first thing on Monday.

Then she hears it

And because it is so quiet, she hears it clearly. The soft clicking of keys on a keyboard. Her sharp ears pick out the sound immediately and she decides to follow it, trying to figure out where it's coming from.

She wanders around the empty desks for a few seconds before halting abruptly in front of Azula's office. The sound seems to be coming from there.

She hasn't gone home yet?

Katara frowns. Maybe she got too caught up in her work to realise that Azula hasn't gone home yet.

Pumping herself with some much needed assurance, she slowly opens the door to Azula's office. She knows the girl hates knocking.

Katara peeps inside the room tentatively. Her eyes fall on her boss, typing feverishly on her computer, brows furrowed in concentration. And Katara, knowing that it's too late to be doing heavy work like what Azula seems to be doing right now, decides to go interrupt.

She steps inside the room quietly. Her boss doesn't seem to notice. But when Katara starts walking towards the desk, closing more distance, Azula's eyes snap up to hers suddenly, without turning away from her computer. Katara stops dead on her tracks, panic griping her heart, faster than a race horse. She stares at her boss, not really sure about what she's doing with herself, praying to all spirits silently that she isn't overstepping any boundaries.

Azula considers Katara for a moment, her fingers halting for a second, before she snaps her golden eyes away to the screen again to continue typing. The blue-eyed girl's heart begins to beat faster.

She's not encroaching any boundaries?!

Katara takes a tentative step forward. And when she meets no resistence, she walks freely, closer to Azula's desk. Her boss, seemingly, is absorbed in her work. And Katara doesn't like it. It's Friday night for spirits sake! And she's the boss! She doesn't have to work this hard!

Katara reaches the desk and walks around it to the side where Azula's seated. It's a large desk, and it gives Katara ample space to lean her butt against the edge of it and stand facing Azula with her arms crossed over her chest.

She watches her boss type so fast, she's sure they keys are just minutes away from flying off the keyboard. It's silent between them. Katara knows that her boss is blatantly ignoring her, so she just waits in order to get her attention.

A moment later, Azula finishes up in a flourish, ending her furious typing, and shuts her computer down, before she turns in her chair to face Katara.

"Why aren't you home yet?"

"Haven't you gone home?"

They both speak at the same time. Katara purses her lips, and looks down at her feet, trying to hide her fast forming blush.

"And not to mention," Azula gets up from her chair, unbuttoning her sleeves, "You've walked in here without permission. I could fire you right here."

Katara looks up in a hurry. "No, you won't."

"Oh, yeah?" Her boss begins to roll up her sleeves. Katara gulps, tracing her eyes over Azula's hands. "What makes you so sure?"

The intern averts her eyes away to her boss' face. "I'm too valuable."

Azula gives her half a shrug. "Meh. You're tolerable."

Katara smiles in reply, teasing and taunting. She takes a moment before asking. "You know, you're the boss right?"

Azula finishes rolling up her sleeves before meeting Katara's eyes in an answer. So Katara continues. "You can go home whenever you please. Why haven't you gone already?"

Azula stares at her silently, reaching her hand up to the back of her head and pulling the band that holds her hair together in a bun. The volume of her hair comes crashing down to her shoulders and her back, and Katara can't help but not take her eyes away from the girl.

Katara knew she was attracted to her boss, months ago. But this . . . this is too much. This is like watching the always poised and alert exterior of Azula that she's spent half an year to build, come crashing down; and Katara's the glad witness of the mind-blowing event, all in slow-motion that her brain seems to put her in.

Her boss steps forward a little, getting a better view of Katara leaning against her desk. Golden brown eyes hold the intern in a daunting stare, before Azula looks away. "I had to draft a proposal."

"This late? You could've asked any of us in the bull-pen to do it for you."

"I don't trust them enough to do this." Azula moves a bit forward. She reaches for the red tie around her lithe neck and gets it loose with a few rough tugs. Then her delicate fingers wrap around her collar button and she unfastens it in the blink of an eye.

Katara's brain freezes over, her eyes trained on the sharp collarbone peeking out from under her boss' collar. "Y- You don't?"

Azula shrugs. "Trust is for fools. Fear is the only reliable way."

Katara gulps as she snaps her gaze to Azula's striking ones trained on her intensely. "What about Z- Zhu Li?"

"Ah, Zhu Li . . ." Azula takes another step forward. "She doesn't fear me. And that's the only reason why I respect her enough to remember her name. The others could be eaten by spirits for all I care." She waves her hand dismissively.

"What about me? I don't fear you."

Azula steps closer, almost a foot away from Katara. "You sure about that?"

"Y- Yes."

Azula just smirks in reply.

Then something clicks in Katara's brain. "Wait- Is that why you keep calling me 'new girl'?! You don't even know my name!"

Her boss moves closer again, and this time, Katara can differentiate the various shades of brown sprinkled in those golden eyes from how close she's standing. "Your achievements shall make me remember you. Not your worthless name. So, tell me, new girl. What have you achieved in order for you to make an impression on me and urge me to remember your name?"

Katara presses herself against the desk behind her like her life depends on it. "I- I um . . . I gave you the idea for the merger deal with the Cabbage Corp!!"

Azula leans forward and places her palms on her desk, on either side of Katara, trapping her. Katara's heart rate increases tenfold. She almost whimpers at the intoxicating smell her boss seems to posess.

"And that's supposed to have impressed me?" Azula raises one chisled brow, silently mocking Katara with just her eyes.

Okay, now Katara's definitely sure that this isn't something that's supposed to be happening between a boss and her intern. But does she care? Oh, spirits no! She finds herself slipping into a daze, her mind filled only with Azula's scent and her goddamn eyes.

"I- I . . ."

"You're gonna have to do lot more than that." Katara feels fingers as soft as silk place themselves on her thigh. They find the gap between her suit-skirt and her burning skin and slides inside effortlessly like butter. Katara shudders at the touch.

"W- What are you doing?" The intern's voice is unstable, riddled heavily with something thick; something raw.

Azula stares at her, slowly moving her hand higher up inside Katara's skirt. "Waiting for you to tell me to stop."

Katara closes her eyes, overwhelmed with a rush of new feelings she knows she shouldn't be having for her boss. She feels hot breath hit her face just and inch away.

"Do you want me to stop?" Azula whispers against her lips, taunting her; teasing her in a way that drives Katara crazy.

And Katara makes a decision. "No." She breathes. "Don't stop."

A smirk takes up her boss' face immediately before she crashes her lips against Katara with such force that pushes Katara flush against the desk, the edge digging into her butt. She pushes back with equal fervour, clasping her fingers tightly around Azula's loose tie and pulling her forward with it.

But Azula's having none of it.

She pushes Katara's skirt up, massaging the intern's thigh with her hand as she spreads the girl's legs apart. She wastes no time, moving forward to come and stand in between her legs, giving Katara a delicious friction to rub herself against.

Their mouths dance against each other, fighting in the most intimate way possible to gain control. Azula's hand that is not presently engaged with Katara's thigh, comes up to untuck the intern's blue blouse from her skirt, dipping her hand inside to caress the soft skin there.

Katara jumps on cloud nine. Her hungry desire for her boss ever since she laid her eyes on the girl, hits her with full force as her hand find Azula's shirt to crumple under her fingers. She lets out a needy breath when Azula leaves her lips to dip her head down to place a hot, wet, open mouth on Katara's neck, sucking the supple skin there in a way that makes Katara pretty sure it's gonna leave a mark.

It's wrong. Katara knows it's absolutely wrong. But it feels so damn right and so damn good that she silences all the other nonsensical thoughts riddling her brain and pulls the dark, raw, unadulterated hunger she feels for her boss to the forefront, throwing away all reason. She doesn't know when exactly she became this shameless animal, wanting, no- needing to be satisfied by Azula, and only Azula, but she doesn't seem to care.

Especially not when Azula's caressing hand unbuttons her skirt and sneaks its merry way down to pure, wet, heat. Katara feels herself pounding in time with her heart, gushing wetness all over Azula's now bold and teasing fingers. She arches her back, aching for her boss' touch, and gasping out loud when Azula finally, finally puts pressure exactly fucking where she needs it.

Katara's hand flies out to grip the desk and accidentally hits the pen stand and it comes crashing down with a loud BANG!

Katara jolts awake.

She sits up straight in her chair, blinking rapidly, her eyes adjusting to the sudden hit of light. She looks all around, shocked to find that she's at her desk in the bull-pen. She must've fallen asleep on her desk or something.

Heat flushes into Katara's face as her brain catches up with what she was dreaming. She looks toward Azula's office, and most definitely, there's not a single soul there; lights out and door locked.

Her body's still buzzing, completely on edge, still not over the mind-numbingly vivid dream she just had.

God dang it!

Now she's never going to be able to look at her boss in the eyes again. She packs her stuff up and heads home in a hurry. She's taking the coldest freaking shower known to mankind when she reaches home, for sure.

...

"The proposal's been approved." Azula's sharp voice rings around the meeting hall. "I want the draft for the first design by this Thursday. Any delay on your part and I will not hesitate to terminate you from my office. Understood?"

There are terrified nods all around the hall.

"Good." Azula narrows her eyes. "Dismissed."

Zhu Li, beside Katara, gets up to go have a seat near Azula, to run over the details regarding the discussions in the meeting, just as everyone hurriedly scurries out of the hall. Katara follows her mindlessly. Even after 3 months, Katara still shadows Zhu Li around, learning as much as can from the secretary.

The intern thought that if she spent the whole of the weekend having slumber parties with her friends, it just might take her mind off of the dream she had last Friday.

But, nope.

She tried all the trick in her book, but nothing seems to be working. Sitting here in the meeting hall, along with Zhu Li and Azula alone, she can't help but let her eyes wander to her boss' tie, noticing the way it stands crisp and how it came so beautifully undone under Azula's sculpted fingers in her dream. She can't help but imagine what witnessing the real thing would be like. It also does not help when Azula picks up a pen and starts twirling it inbetween her fingers.

Katara sucks in a sharp breath and pulls her eyes away reluctantly to her notepad.

"Katara?"

She hears her name and looks up instantly to find Azula's sharp eyes looking directly at her.

"Zhu Li's gone already. I said dismissed two minutes ago."

Katara looks around the hall, confused, and feels her cheek heat up at the realisation. She and Azula are the only ones in the hall. But then she frowns. "Wait-" Her eyes snap back to her boss. "You know my name?!"

Three months under Azula's leadership, and not once has Katara heard Azula call her by her name. And the same three months of experience tells Katara that the look Azula's giving her is the one she wears when she's confused.

"What do you mean?" The golden eyed girl asks.

"I- I thought you always called me 'new girl' cuz you didn't know my name!"

Azula arches her brow. "I always call you 'new girl' because you are a new girl."

Katara frowns. "Then . . . I'm not a new girl anymore?"

Azula snorts. "You've not been new since your mom pushed you out of her."

The intern scowls at her boss. "Not funny. My mom died when I was 5."

Azula stares at her employee for a second longer before shrugging slightly. "Sorry."

Katara perks up. Sorry? The great Azula, shadow director of Agni Incorp., is capable of uttering that word?!

Seeing that Katara's confused, Azula explains without prompt. "Look, you've improved the status of the company since you arrived here, so much so that I could kiss you with how pleased I am. So, it's importat that I don't treat you as just another employee although they're important too, but as a colleague."

Katara gulps. "Y- You could kiss me?!"

Azula raises her eyebrows. "Figure of speech." She says but there's amusement in her eyes. "Were you really about to say 'no' to Azula Agni kissing you?"

Katara's eyes blow wide. "What?! No! That's not what I was-" She notices Azula's expression. "You're playing me, aren't you?"

The corner of Azula's lips curve up into a smirk, her eyes twinkling. "You should've seen your face."

"I know, I know." Katara rolls her eyes. "Very funny."

Their shared moment hangs in the air softly, bathing Katara with an unnatural elation. She finds Azula staring at her with the twinkle never leaving her eyes. Her stomach flips involuntarily. She sobers up, playing with a strand of her own hair in sudden nervousness.

"Zhu Li's planning on resigning." Azula states and Katara looks up with shock at the sudden news. "I tried to keep her in, but it really is no use. She needs to work on her career and she can't do that wiping my ass for the rest of her life."

"When?" - Is the only thing Katara can ask.

"In three months." Azula looks down at the table. "She says she'll train you for another month and then issue me her notice."

Katara frowns. "Me?"

Azula's gaze finds Katara's confused ones. "Yeah, you. You're gonna be Zhu Li's replacement."

The intern's heart pounds against her ribs. Being Azula's secretary means being close to her at all times, arriving at her beck and call and . . . Katara really isn't sure if she's cut out for the job with the kind of dreams that she's been having.

"You . . . don't want to be?" Azula frowns slightly.

Katara decides to be honest. At least about one thing. "I don't think I'm cut out for the job is all."

Azula's frown deepens. "I just told you how I could kiss you because of how good you're at this job. Just . . . think about it and make sure to let me know before Zhu Li hands in her notice."

Katara knows that her decision is already going to be a 'yes'. But she nods to Azula's suggestion anyways, as if to mull it over.

"Dismissed."

Katara walks out of the meeting hall, with a light heart.

***

i've been writing this fic for THREE days. that's how long this is 😭🖐🏻

i hope i satisfied your prompt, anon!! if anyone wants a part 2 for this... all u need to do is ask me 👀 it's that simple.

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