#zuko sweep

[peak-zuko-tournament]

Final Matchup

[mini-minish]

boy prince has to learn to do the dishes

[cogcltrcorn]

are you really about to let the guy that has screamed and cried for gods to strike him down with lightning because they always tormented him anyway by making him a cringefail loser (which is the only problem of his he recognizes at that point of the story) lose in the "the most wet and pathetic" competition??

Tumblr's Poorest Little Meow Meow Contest

Remember, don't just vote for your fave! Consider who is the SCRUNCHIEST, MOST MISERABLE, and has made the WORST CHOICES.

[spielzeugkaiser]

12/12 we had an Uncle Iroh sweep!! He won the poll by far - and for a moment I thought about making it quite sad, but I contained myself, hehe.

[muffinlance]

Opening my old story notes and finding "The Crossroads of Fuck You" as a plot arc is DELIGHTFUL, let me tell you

Anyway outlining for the next Dark Night in Ba Sing Se is going, I've fleshed out a rough outline for the entire series

Except for the part I'm actually supposed to be writing

why brain why

[zukosdualdao]

give your all to me / i'll give my all to you

zutara month, day 10: secret, @zutaramonth

summary: the night before they're set to leave to face ozai, katara can't sleep. neither can zuko. "tell me a secret," she asks of him.

warnings: references to ozai's abuse of zuko, kya's murder and katara's discovery, and ursa's disappearance.

other notes: title is a lyric from all of me by john legend. yes this is the second fic i've written about zutara the night before they're supposed to leave for the final battle. no i will not change <3

Though there are several rooms in the Ember Island house, on the first day everyone was here, they’d dragged all the blankets and pillows from them and instead set up in the open room at the front of the house, and that’s how they usually all fall asleep, near to each other—a holdover from Katara and Sokka’s days growing up in the Southern Water Tribe.

Aang is somewhere else, though. She doesn’t know what he’s doing, what he’s thinking.

She doesn’t know what will happen tomorrow.

Toph is snoring lightly, on her back and feet planted firmly on the ground, but Katara’s gotten used to that. That's not why she can't sleep. Sokka sometimes snores, too, but tonight, she can hear his easy, even breathing. Suki is silent in a way she wouldn’t be if she was awake, and Katara knows she’s pulled Sokka up to her side as she always does in sleep.

Zuko is awake. She doesn’t have to look at him or hear anything to know that. 

“Tell me a secret,” she says quietly to the ceiling and to him.

“Like what?” Zuko asks, matching her volume, not bothering to pretend he doesn’t know who she’s asking. Even in the darkness, they have come to understand each other.

“I don’t know. Anything.”

It takes a long moment, but then Zuko says, “Okay.” Another pause, and then: “I use my bending to get the temperature right for the tea. Sometimes.” He says it almost a little guiltily. 

Katara snorts and then looks over to make sure she hasn’t woken the others. Toph shifts in her sleep but otherwise only snores again. When she turns, resting her chin on her hand, Zuko is already staring back at her in a mirror image. His amber eyes are two bright points in the dark.

“That is not a secret. You’re not as stealthy as you think.”

“Oh.” She can just make out the way his frown shifts into a slight smile.

“Try again,” Katara says again. “Something I don’t know. Something real.”

He takes a moment to think it over. “The day of the eclipse,” he says finally.

“Yes?”

“My father… he said something.”

“Was this before or after he shot you with lightning?” she asks. It’s rude, abrasive, but—she can’t help it. He’d said that almost casually today while training Aang, and for a moment, that uneasy anger she’d felt when he first came to them resurfaced. Only now, it was for him as well. 

How could he ever choose to go back to that? she’d thought. To someone who would do that to him?

“Before,” Zuko says, matter-of-fact, not seeming bothered by her intrusive question. Katara blinks, brought back to the moment. “He said… he implied… I don’t know. He said she might be alive. My mother. I don’t know if it’s true, or if he just…”

Katara’s heart stutters. Knowing something like that was awful. Knowing that no matter how she wished for it, her mother would never return this earth was an awful burden to bear. Remembering what it felt like to run with everything she had, only to find… 

But not knowing? Being made to wonder? There’s a different kind of cruelty to that.

“If we win,” Katara starts, then pauses, shaking her head. “When we win—you should look for her. And I'll be there with you,” she promises.

There’s a long, silent moment in the aftermath of that. 

“You will?” Zuko asks, sounding sort of choked. Katara smiles softly at him. 

“Yeah,” she insists. “You helped me. Remember?”

The journey to find Yon Rha… it hadn’t been easy, or particularly pleasant. But it was what she needed. And Zuko helped her get there. Told her what she needed to know. Guarded her. Respected her choice to walk away without a word one way or the other, no approval and no dissent.

Zuko stares at her for a moment, discerning. “You don’t owe me anything, you know. It—it wasn’t about that.”

“I know. But I still want to help you.”

“...Okay,” he replies in a soft voice. Then:  “Now it’s your turn.”

“Hm?” Katara asks, her eyes starting to feel heavy with sleep.

“To tell me a secret.” 

Katara winks an eye open again. Mulling it over, she leans just a touch closer and reaches over to smooth his wild hair out of his eyes and touch a gentle hand against his face, against his scar. 

Zuko leans into her hand.

“I’m really glad you’re here.”

[sapphicyanli]

sokka: talk dirty to me;)

zuko: mud, trash, dust

[ssreeder]

I saw that other ask about Zuko ending up firelord in LIAB and I'd just like to add on to that my thoughts abt it in the original show- was it just me or did it feel really out of character for Iroh to try and push Zuko into a major leadership role at 16?? Like how did he possibly think that was a good idea, what with all the seriously heavy burdens that it would bring on to Zuko? Not to mention Zuko has had barely any chance to be a regular teenager for a second throughout the show, what with the 3 year banishment and then he's immediately pushed to be firelord.. Also the fact that firelord feels really unfitting for Zuko?? He's shown to not be a good leader. I feel like coming out of a 3 year banishment and awful childhood I don't think he'd want to be surrounded by constant reminders of his abusive father and not to mention be in the same role his *abusive father* was in... Sorry for the impromptu and slightly incomprehensible rant... this is still one of my biggest gripes in the show. Btw your writing is wonderful and im so excited for the next chapter of LIAB! Have a great day :D

Hiiii!! (here is another impromptu & very incomprehensible rant)

I think Zuko would have been a good fire lord if he was given the proper training & support. But I have to say I think it was completely in character for iroh to do that to Zuko…

I enjoy iroh but I think his character is EXTREMELY flawed & his way of helping zuko develop from a young angry hurt 13 year old boy could have been handled a lot better. Yeah yeah he isn’t zukos dad but he signed up to mentor and be there for Zuko so he could have mentored him a little more. (a lot more - I don’t think is was likely Zuko had any growth from 13-16 because he was pretty awful at season 1 and disrespected everyone including iroh and was in so much denial about his situation it was SCARY)

I could go on & on about iroh and his missed opportunities with zuko but I think irohs “Zuko will overcome and he is good inside” way of thinking is what prompted him to plop his teenage nephew on that throne even though he was like 3 days into his redemption (ok yeah it was maybe a month? Idk but not very long). The anger, sadness, self doubt, unhealthy coping mechanisms were all still there - but iroh is very…. ‘He’s got this I believe in him’

Even if it means zukos going to struggle and stumble over himself and work extra hard to try and be a good leader with (let’s face it) almost no healthy leadership experience. (5 minutes into being aangs fire bending trainer he is yelling at him. his idea of how to get aang to take training more seriously is to attack him - yeah let’s give him a fucking country! Yiiipeeeeeeee)

If iroh cared about Zuko he would hang up his tea uniform, take his RIGHTFUL place as fire lord and have Zuko become his crowned prince and start learning how to be fire lord while UNCLEEEEE took the initial burden of becoming fire lord right after the war. But nahhhh let’s invent boba or whatever he was fucking doing in BSS

*deep breath* sorry… I promise I LIKE iroh… I just….. DISAGREE with his methods.

Sorry about my rant anon haha

[pollokeiser2]

Ive seen this meme rightfully with Zuko as Abed but lets not forget who was the daddy issues autistic swagg og ;)

( image description: its the

"jeff think you should play the role of my father"

"i dont want to be your father"

"thats perfect, you already know your lines"

scene from community)

Wheel of Doom Ring of Fire (Quarterfinals)

[queenpiranhadon]

A/N: You all voted on this poll, and this poll, and this poll, and after a LOT of voting, I present you this :) BIG thanks to @that-multi-fandom-hijabi for beta reading this go follow her writing acc rn (@novaaaaaa-writes). Here's my masterlist!

Warning(s): Enemies to lovers trope, mentions of burning, stabbing, blood, bad descriptions of both fire of water (ice, snow ?) bending, Zuko is whipped, just a little confused about it, reader is a baddie, water benders unite (not me tho), reader is GN but written with f!reader in mind, reader looks non-threatening, is underestimated a lot, this takes place at the end of season one, I think that's it

Pairing: Prince Zuko x GN!Reader

•──•°•❀•°•─── ʜɪꜱ ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ᴡᴀᴛᴇʀʙᴇɴᴅᴇʀ ───•°•☁︎•°•───•

“You shouldn’t be here” you glare, your gaze sending shivers down his spine. 

But that could just be because of all the snow and ice surrounding the both of you. 

The fire prince remains unfazed though, his amber eyes sweeping over your form- assessing the threat you posed. 

He could take you down in seconds. 

Zuko doesn’t respond to your jab though, because he knew you were wrong. He had to be here, it was the only way he could finally receive his father’s favor- as the heir and as the son of Firelord Ozai. It was his duty, his honor. 

And he wasn’t going to let a non-threatening waterbender get in the way of that. 

Reaching back, he unsheathes his dual swords, the glint of the waning moonlight reflecting the dangerous glint in his eye. 

And yet you didn’t back down.  

Pooling some water from your waterskin, you assumed the stance you had trained yourself to take whenever you honed your skills. One with the water, one with the ice.  

‘Power should flow, not force itself” Master Pakku had told you once.  

People had always underestimated your skills, saying you were better suited for healing. But after showing Master Pakku how you could use your bending to control the falling snow around you, he gave you a chance.  

He had told you to let the power settle in your body before releasing, instead of forcing it out immediately. Conceal and then control. 

You met Zuko’s fiery gaze with an icy one of your own. You were going to protect your home.  

With a yell, you form flurries of snow, whipping around your form as you channel your strength to change the form of your flurry, snow turning to water, water turning to sharp daggers of pure ice.  

Zuko scowls, setting his hands ablaze and you run at each other, fire meeting ice.  

Time slows down, as the intensity of your elements picks up, until all you could hear was the steady thump – thump – thump – of your heart, and the roar of crystalline knives swirling around you. 

Flames lick the side of your leg, wincing as the raw burn of the fire sears through your skin in white-hot pain. Razor sharp icy shards cut into Zuko’s skin, finding chinks in his armor, piercing his flesh and drawing blood. 

The snow beneath the both of you was dotted red now, both of you staring at each other, panting heavily.  

“You really shouldn’t be here.” you repeat again, but this time, it was barely a whisper, swallowing down tears as the cold wind of the Northern Water Tribe stung your gaping wounds. 

Zuko growls, grunting in pain as he pulls a shard of ice out of his skin.“I don’t take orders from a little waterbender” he spat, venom dripping from his words. 

You reciprocate with a snide comment of your own. “This ‘little waterbender’ just sunk 5 icicles into your skin.” 

Zuko was just about ready to tear your head off, hands igniting with vermillion flames before you collapse, the burns along your thigh and calf were much more severe than either of you realized.  

You choke out a sob of pain but keep your control of the water left in your waterskin. You couldn’t die, not today, and not at the hands of the prince of the Fire Nation.  

Zuko’s heart throbs unexpectedly, the look on your face too familiar for comfort. The face of someone who worked so desperately hard, only for all that effort to go down the drain. But he didn’t care for you. He couldn’t- couldn’t grow attachment to a non-threatening waterbender. Yet you sat there on the snow, dotted with blood, with that raw look in your eyes. His flames extinguished, without him meaning to.  

You flinched as he threw his swords down frustrated, impaling themselves into the nearby snow mound, standing straight up. 

He stomps over to you, and you frantically move back, but your leg flares up in pain again, and you yelp, hissing in pain.

“Stop moving, you’ll make it worse.” he says, glaring at you, but not as intensely as he had before.  

You want to scream, kick him, punch him, anything, but your body betrays you as he sweeps you up into his arms, carrying you to the nearest place he can find, where he can keep you safe. You feel his strong arms hook under your knees and under your back, holding you securely to his firm chest. Even through his armor, he radiates warmth, a gentle heat, unlike the flames he threw at you merely minutes ago.  

He hates this, with every fiber in my being, his voice screaming at him to drop you and burn your frail body to a crisp, vengeance for the blood dripping from his own body, but he keeps moving, step after painstaking step. 

You try to stay awake, you really do, yet channeling so much energy from your battle, the numb throb in your lower leg, and the comforting heat radiating off the fire prince who refuses to look at you, you slip into unconsciousness.  

Zuko feels a weight press against his chest, and he huffs, honey-colored eyes catching onto the details of your face, the curve of your nose, the apples of your cheeks, the slight pout of your lips as you nuzzle into his armor unintentionally, how pretty you were when you were at peace. 

He stops himself there, reprimanding himself for thinking such things. He can’t have feelings for the enemy. 

And yet, even as he and his troops head home, battle wearing and dejected from the loss of a major battle, Zuko can’t help but think about his little waterbender.  

*** 

When you wake up, the kind woman tending to you tells you all about the mysterious and handsome man who carried your sleeping form across the entire Northern Water Tribe because he didn’t know where the healing center was.  

[peak-zuko-tournament]

Round One

[lolabearwrites]

I'd like to think on ember island zuko would do a lot of little things around the house. Sweep, wash the dishes after dinner so katara didn't have to in the morning, etc. And he'd be a bit flustered at how appreciative she was, because it's not that big of a deal to him, but it means the world to her

[siblingshowdown]

CONGRATS TO ZUKO AND AZULA ON THEIR WIN!

Sibling Showdown: Second Choices

[captainkirkk]

I'm normally a very slow reader of published novels, but I devoured The Hands of the Emperor by Victoria Goddard and now I can NOT stop thinking about it.

Everyone who has read my Fire Lord Zuko content knows how much I love 1) people of power working tirelessly to make the world a better place for all; and b) kings, slowly being crushed under the weight of their crown and duty, finding love and care in their loyal servants and staff

Except this story is more. The Emperor is worshiped and treated as a god, bound by extreme taboos and protocols that he can't break. It's about his staff (his found family) looking BEYOND the exterior of godhood and finding the human being underneath - who is dying under the weight of being the Emperor - and deciding to reach out, even if by acknowledging his humanity they are technically breaking many laws.

God this book is about so many things, including:

Found family can be the Last Emperor and his senior members of staff

The Emperor learning how to be human again with the help of his friends

There's no romance in this book. The deep friendships are the beating heart of this story, and they very much Love each other.

Breaking down a previously corrupt imperial empire through hard work and radial reforms, leading to sweeping changes including UNIVERSAL INCOME

Embracing cultural heritage, even in the heart of the imperial palace. Our main character is both one of the highest ranking members of government and from an islander culture, and he dedicates himself to both

The struggle for your family (who have a case of tall poppy syndrome, and live far far away from the capital and palace) to see you as a respected adult and understand all of your (many, MANY) achievements, even when you're very literally brought the Emperor home with you.

This book has some BEAUTIFUL confrontations, take-downs, and revelations based on the past two points (and more). If you underestimate or insult our main character, You Will Regret It. Watching him lose his temper is a glorious thing to behold.

Anyway I'm pretty sure this just became my all-time favourite book, because it's beautifully written and touches on all of my favourite tropes.

[junedenim]

maybe i was mistaken

just a summer thing

warnings: smuting, sexing, blowing, eating, fingering, flinging, etc.

word count: 3.4k

The relationship between Alex and you can't be understated. Some say it was gradual, some say it was all at once. But you would just describe it as one summer. Nestled in the heated crest of 2013, you met Alex, you fucked Alex, you loved Alex, and you never saw Alex again.

You met Alex at a party in January. One with a blurry memory and only one photo to prove you were ever there. Then, you met again at another party. This time in June, only one drink in, and enough hair gel to suffocate a man and turn on a woman to a ridiculous degree.

"You know, I'd never thought I'd have a thing for Danny Zuko," you told him, three drinks in, two makeout sessions later. The edges of his mouth had red lipstick smeared on it, just like the rim of your glass. He had visions of that smear around his cock and he was sure he was going to get it tonight. "But after tonight."

He wrapped an arm around you and gripped your ass, not shameful in feeling you up. In fact, every advance had been edged closer and closer to exhibitionism. It turned you on along with the clang of his belt and those black Chelsea boots. "Some say it's Elvis," Alex said, pushing his hand along the side of the grease helmet.

"Isn't that the same thing?" You countered. "Elvis, Danny, Birdie."

He raises an eyebrow. It feels calculated. "Birdie?"

"From Bye Bye Birdie, the musical," you explain. "It's based on Elvis going to war. It even has Ann-Marget, Elvis's l—"

His mouth covers you, absorbing away at that red pigment. He takes control of you completely and you fall away, into him completely. There's a tight squeeze of your ass and a signal from him, rubbing up against you, telling you it's time to get a room.

Somewhere in the pounding chaos of this party, he locks a door, and you get down on your knees. Alex's eyes glaze over as you take him into your mouth, his head lulling to the side as your tongue sweeps across his head and teases his slit. Your eyes lock onto his, watching him watch you as you bop your head up and down, your plump lips stretching as you slowly take more of him into your mouth.

You hollow your cheeks and suck, your mouth making obscene noises. You get halfway down before you pull back and start again, bringing a hand up to wrap around his shaft and stroke him as you begin to descend again, this time gagging when you feel his tip poking the back of your throat.

"Fuck, baby, that's it," Alex moans, his hands tangling in your soft hair, feeling your throat contract around his dick. He doesn't hold your head or force you to take more, just massages your scalp and lets you keep control. "That feels so good."

You smile around his cock, slurping and sucking and stroking him to full length with eagerness and vigor. You watch his face as you please him, feel the way his thighs tighten underneath your hands, the way his body does these cute little jerks and jumps when he's trying not to come too early. You fall in love with it all. He takes hold of his cock and empties completely into your mouth, the last drop hanging on that faded red lip.

Then, there was a call. It might have been a week after the party, maybe less. He called and invited you to dinner and what you thought to be unrequited infatuation after a hookup became reciprocated because Alex has always known how to reciprocate.

He never called you his girlfriend. You never called him your boyfriend. But you were each other's arm candy. He was your date for a wedding. You were the woman on his arm at Glastonbury. 

Fortunately and unfortunately, it wasn't a friendly affair. It was a carnivorous and burning desire that left you both desperate individuals with only the other to suppress the flames until the fire fought back and the process repeated.

You slammed your head up against the wall as he mauled away at your neck. He could kill you, mouth on your jugular, let you bleed out. Is it sick that you'd let him? You've fallen so deeply into him. Deeper than you want to confess, even to yourself. 

He's hungry, hand on your thigh, pulling your left leg up, his erection dancing right around your core. It's obsessive teasing and you ride up right into him, making his breath hitch against your throat. "You want me to do you right here?"

You hum with a quick nod. He pulls back with a smirk, his hands leaving your body to undo his belt. You're in some bathroom at some fancy function that you don't understand and are quite bored by but he asked you to come so you came. Now, well, now he's asking again.

He presses his body up against yours, sandwiching you in between the wall. Alex's hands slowly drag their way up your thighs to your short silk dress, pushing the skirt up so teasingly. His mouth hovers inches away from your mouth, hot breath consuming you. You could fall right into him and die for it but you maintain your willpower to resist his pull.

His fingers brush the lacy edge of your panties, sending shivers through you. The smirk on his face only grows more pleased. He moves across the waistline, stopping to play with the tiny bow. 

Then, suddenly, his movements quicken like the desire has caught up with him. He pulls himself out of his underwear, giving himself a few pumps. "Do you want me to...?" You suggest, motioning to his cock.

He chuckles. "Nah, I want to fuck you here and now and quick. That alright with you?"

It's all too easy to say, "Yeah" before he's taking you over again. He pulls your panties to the side and runs his fingers through the folds once before he enters you. It's pounding and there's no teasing in any way. You both know there is probably a line forming outside this bathroom and you're both so hungry for it that there is no need to play it slow and sensual. Not that there's much love in your lovemaking.

"Fuck," he mutters, "you like that? Huh?"

You can only manage to say, "Yeah." Your arms cling around his neck to keep some stability as he thrusts into you. His hands are on your waist, pulling you into him, having you match his rhythm. It's dirty. You feel dirty. And you like it. 

Everything is pounding—Him, the music, your head—but you're lost in it completely. You throw your head back and knock into the wall again, enough to grasp your head in pain, cursing. Alex just thinks you're really into it. He pushes you to your knees, grabs your head, and lays his dick on your tongue, shooting into your mouth. "Fuck that was good."

"Yeah." You continue to clutch the back of your head. "I think I'm bleeding."

"What? Like your period?" Alex looks down at his cock, still out and shiny with cum, no period blood.

"No, my head. I hit it." You look at the tips of your fingers, a slight stain of red. 

"Oh, fuck. You okay?" He takes up his pants, fixing his belt, and taking a long gaze in the mirror at his slightly roughed-up appearance. He pulls out a comb from his back pocket and runs it through his hair.

You're not sure what to say. You take to your feet and try to get a look at yourself in the mirror. "Yeah." Your hair is messy but that's nothing new. The light is hurting your eyes and you suddenly feel like you should be at home. Not in some foreign country with a man you barely know. "I think I'm gonna go back to the hotel."

"Alright. I'm gonna hang around here some more. Are you sure you're okay? I'm sure a drink would help."

Alex seems to think that a lot. The cure for anything is a drink. You're not sure if that applies to everything in his life or just you. You shake your head and say you'll be fine. You're not sure what time he returns to the hotel but his arm is wrapped around you when you wake up. It's enough reason to not go home.

*

In July, he crashes at your place for a week. You try to be realistic, as you always have with Alex, but you can't convince yourself this isn't serious. That during his break from touring, he shacks up with you. He cooks dinner for you one night and on another, he rubs your feet after they've suffered in heels.

"I love having you around here," you tell him on the last night. It's the closest you'll ever get to saying "I love you" to him.

He rubs his hands along your legs that are sitting in his lap. "Thanks for having me. I like it around here a lot."

You giggle at his pronunciation. "You mean you like the privacy."

"Well, yeah." Your words are a sign for him and he brushes his hand up higher, past your knee, up your thigh. Any response you had is left in your throat. 

His fingers touch the waistband of your shorts, flicking them away from the skin. "Will you do something for me?" For the first time, he sounds timid, nervous even.

"What?"

You think of what he could say, what you long for him to say. Those declarations of love that sit on your tongue. Instead, he asks, "Can you touch yourself?"

Your mouth gapes. "Like masturbate?"

Alex chuckles at your reaction. "Yeah. Touch yourself," he whispers.

You never thought you would do this, something so vulnerable to you, but his gaze is strong and he can convince you of anything with those eyes. You slide your shorts off, your fingers brushing against the moist material of your underwear.

You lean back and relax against the couch's arm cushion as you spread your legs wider, allowing Alex a greater view. You bite your lip as you run the tip of your finger up and down your underwear, applying a little bit more pressure each time you trace yourself. 

"Will you do it too?" You ask. The imagined sight of that turns you on severely. 

He shakes his head. "Later. I want to watch you now." You hum and dance over the fabric shielding your pussy. You reach in and finally touch yourself. "How wet are you?" He asks softly, watching your hand move between your legs. He keeps one hand on your leg, the other sits on his crotch, neither moving.

Your eyes flutter closed as your fingertips slide through your slick folds, tracing a long path up the entire length of your slit, your breath hitching as you brush your clit. "So wet," you finally answer him.

You start rubbing tight circles on your clit until your whole body tenses and you're coming violently with Alex staring straight on.

A satisfied smile covers his face as your body relaxes. His body starts moving toward you, a predator hunting its prey. You whimper as his fingers approach your pussy, his hand resting on the lips. "You want to come on my fingers now?"

You nod and his slowness is destructive but it's so much softer now. You've never done foreplay but now one hand is smoothing over your sensitive skin while the other reaches under your top, searching for your nipple. His eyes look into yours and for a moment you can see everything clearly, the feeling seeping out of him.

Then, his fingers run through you, wetting themselves from you. His head moves down lower and he moves off the bed, kneeling beside you. He shifts your hips toward him, giving him a perfect view. He hooks his fingers in the band of your panties and pulls them down your legs, tossing them over his shoulder and spreading you wide open to get a nice look at your pussy. He licks his lips before diving in, giving your inner thigh a few quick nips before he drops the pretense and moves his mouth directly on you.

The first lick makes your head spin and he laps at you to get more and more of you on his tongue. The flat of his tongue licks broad stripes up and down your wetness. Your hips buck off the bed and towards Alex's mouth, practically humping his face. 

He latches his plump lips onto your swollen clit, sucking and slurping on the nub as his tongue traces words and shapes on it. His fingers wrap around your thighs and pull you even closer. 

Alex abandons your clit to move down to your hole, dipping his tongue inside your warmth and fucking you with it while his thumb replaces his mouth on your clit. As he eagerly licks you out, his gaze drifts up and meets yours, staring you down until you are falling apart around his tongue, the walls of your pussy vibrating around it. He grips your thighs tightly to keep you in place as he continues to eat away at you through your orgasm.

He wraps you up in his arms that night. Each caress is caring when he fucks you and he leaves his cum inside you and you know your deluding yourself with the thought that he loves you, trusts you enough to hold something so personal. You know you're not the first. You'd beg to be the last. But you've always seen the writing on the wall.

On tour, it's like being a ghost. Sex is the only solution it seems. You can't complain, you enjoy it, you love it, but sometimes you feel like you don't exist. It's easy to make excuses. He's busy. The schedule is insane and it's hard to hold the same bliss as you had at your house when you're basically in a tin can for a month straight.

You decide to head back home citing work responsibilities but you know he doesn't believe you.  The rest of July passes with no contact. Everything is a blur until August. 

He shows up at your front door like some bizarre vision. He's suave and moves with little hesitation into your apartment. You think about questioning him, asking him what right he has to stroll in here after hearing nothing from him, but you know it's no use. 

"You look nice," Alex says. He looks around the place like he's playing Spot the Difference, trying to find the changes in you, trying to see if somebody else has come in here. He eyes you up and down like he's trying to see if there is somebody else.

"Thanks. You too." For him, that's all the permission he needs to approach you. "It's late."

"Yeah," he rubs the side of his head, "I'm a little drunk."

You nod. "Figured."

"Come here to fuck you," he laughs embarrassingly. "Now I just kind of feel pathetic."

You shake your head. "I'm the pathetic one."

"No, you're not. Sorry I've been a jerk."

"It's fine. I'm not shocked by it."

He chuckles. "I'm just, you know, going through some stuff."

"Okay."

"I'll probably be going through it for a while."

"Okay."

"Sorry."

"You don't have to feel guilty. We can just fuck."

"Okay," he says. His lips are quick because it's always quick. His hands are rough on your body and he's pulling away at your shorts, taking them off along with your underwear. He's equal, pulling away to take off his jeans. You take your shirt off, so he takes his shirt, and suddenly you're both nude. 

He comes back to you, taking your head in his hands, holding you to him. His hand travels down, teasing its way to your pussy where he rubs his fingers through you. "This good?"

You nod your head, bucking your hips forward into Alex's hand, desperately trying to create some friction. "Please, I need…"

"What do you need?" He whispers, smirking at you and the way you shiver as his hot breath tickles your neck. He moves with your body, his fingers slipping through you, pulling little gasps out of you every time he hits your clit. He keeps teasing you, massaging the bud for a moment before dipping back into your folds, reaching back, but not far enough to get to your entrance. 

He trails his hand across smooth skin, flipping you around so your back is to him. You lean against the back of the couch and stick out your butt. Alex shuffles and lines himself up with your core. He grips the base of his cock, and guides the head through your wet folds. He slowly starts pushing inside you. "Holy fuck."

"You okay?" You pant out, turning your head back to look at him.

He nods but doesn't make eye contact, too dazed. "Yeah. It's just been too long."

You giggle at him. "Same here. You stretch me out good."

He moans at that, dipping his head back. He pushes the rest of the way in, burying his entire length in your pussy. You clench around him as you get used to the feeling of being so full again.

Alex holds still, taking a moment. It takes so long that you start moving your hips back into him, rolling them in that way he likes. His eyes roll back as you fuck yourself on his cock, and he lets you set the pace for a few moments before he gathers his bearings and starts thrusting forward, meeting each of your slams with his own sharp pumps.

You rock against each other roughly before your movements start to flow, and you're fucking each other in rhythm. He grips your hips as he drills into, holding on tight as his thrusts pick up speed.

He drops his forehead against your shoulder, his eyes drifting down to watch as your ass presses up against his stomach with each pump. "That feel good, baby?" He pants into your ear.

You moan back, "I want you to come inside me, fill me up."

He whimpers at the words, and transitions from his pounding into smoother, longer thrusts, letting his hands move from your sides to find your hands, lacing your fingers together. He arches his chest away from your back so he can slide into you more easily.

His moans blend with your whimpers, and you're so caught up in pleasure. He keeps thrusting, feeling your walls starting to get tighter around his cock each time he slides through you.

"I'm close," you pant. He speeds up his pumping and he hits that spot that makes you go stiff. Your pussy clamping down hard on his cock. "Oh, fuck, I-" It's all you're able to spit out before you're shaking. He's quick to follow, spilling into your pussy.

You pant and shake against one another for a minute, Alex's hips jerking a bit as he continues to empty himself into you. Then, there's the question of the after.

He pulls himself from you with a sigh. "Are you alright?" He asks.

"Yeah."

He heads to the shower and you join him. It's as intimate as you'll ever get. After, he almost heads home, but you convince him to stay that night. In bed, you ask him about the tour.

He says, "It's long. This is my last big break until Christmas."

"And you spent it with me?" You hate the hopefulness in your voice. It betrays you, desperate to not sound desperate.

Alex seems to not know what to say for a while. He grabs your hand and plays with the tips of your fingers. "I feel like a jerk for saying goodbye."

You sigh and for once decide to be honest with him. "You are. I cared about you a lot. More than you did." He nods, staring down at your fingers. He tries not to show your words affecting him but his face betrays him, frowning and hopeless. "But I'm alright with saying goodbye. I'm comfortable just being a footnote in your story."

He shakes his head and finally looks at you. "You were more than a footnote. You'll at least get a chapter in the story of my life."

You share a laugh and it's nice when it's like this. Quiet and just the two of you and your laughter. "Thanks. I think you'll get a page in mine."

He nods. "I'm fine with that. I'm happy you're even allowing me to be included."

You sigh. "Well, you did fly me to Europe so I can't complain."

*

a/n: not my best work but it's finally something. writing some other things too...

[gay-disabled-characters-showdown]

LGBTQ+ Disabled Characters Showdown Round 4, Wave 2, Poll 4

A character being totally canon LGBTQ+ and disabled was not required to be in this competition. Please check qualifications and propaganda before asking why a character is included.

Check out the other polls in this wave and round here.

Zuko-Avatar: The Last Airbender

Qualifications:

Zuko is sight impaired and has PTSD. Zuko is bisexual.

Propaganda:

Zuko is sight impaired and has PTSD. Zuko isn't queer in canon to my knowledge

Yang Xiao Long-RWBY

Qualifications:

She is canonically wlw (has been for years but specifically kissed and got together with her now girlfriend in the latest season) and uses a prosthetic arm and has been shown to struggle with PTSD due to the traumatic nature of losing it during the show.

Canonically had her right arm chopped off, uses a prosthetic. Has PTSD. Is canonically in a WLW relationship.

She has a canon girlfriend and canonically has a prosthetic arm and PTSD

She's canonically sapphic (part of a recently canonised wlw slowburn relationship) and is an amputee (due to events from the 3rd season finale) who wears a robotic prosthetic. She also suffers from PTSD which is explored in the show

Propaganda:

I will keep on submitting Yang to relevant brackets until I die. RWBY has plenty of strengths and weaknesses with writing, especially Yang's recovery arc, but instead of forcing her to push past her trauma and enter the battlefield immediately, we see her struggle with it, take time to process, and not be pushed into repression and when she chooses to wear her prosthetic, chooses to train to ready herself, and chooses to seek out her family and save lives, she isn't perfectly healed, as no one is. The show depicts her having flashbacks due to sudden loud noise, shaking hand the first few times she has to fight for her safety instead of training with her dad, and snapping at friends when they bring up Blake, the person she lost her arm trying to save (who, near immediately after ran away due to feeling she was endangering those she loved, furthering Yang's already present abandonment issues.) It isn't done perfectly but the intentions and general message sent are extremely positive and honest. She struggles less as the show progresses, and there are opportunities to consider herself less for being disabled or "become whole again" but she explicitly refutes these ideas and says that's she's better because of her failures and losses, and isn't any less whole. Her becoming disabled is also extremely tied to her being LGBT, because, as previously mentioned, she lost her arm protecting her then friend and partner, now girlfriend, directly after the villain who cut her arm off told her love interest that he would "destroy everything [she] love[s]. (Camera pans to Yang, he looks at her.) Starting with her." LIKE. He attacked her BECAUSE Blake cared for her so much and Yang ran to her defense blindly BECAUSE she loved Blake so much. When they reunite, they struggle with communication because Yang feels Blake is seeing her as weak, and through several things, mostly a climatic battle against the man who severed Yang's arm, they affirm each other as equals. I can go on but this is already too long. YANG SWEEP!!!!!

Yang lost her arm while protecting her best friend and future girlfriend from said girlfriend's abusive ex. Had a whole arc about learning to live with that loss and dealing with PTSD. Is totally devoted to and in love with Blake Belladonna and is just the sweetest but most badass character in the show.

She's one of the main characters, and just finished a 10 year slow burn romance. Plus, she has both physical and mental disabilities, but is never treated as lesser or incomplete.

Yang Xiao Long was one of the first examples of a sapphic character I ever saw in animated media with her character journey in the show being an iconic part of my teenage years and current young adulthood. The loss of her arm after a traumatic event in the show's 3rd volume was one of the big shockers of the show that nobody saw coming. Since then the show has done an amazing job in exploring both the mental and physical effects of her losing a limb, gaining a prosthetic arm and the recovery journey. Her character also has a major arc regarding handling her PTSD from both this and her past most notably in the 5th and 6th volume. Her character also has a slow-burn romance with her teammate and fellow main character Blake Belladonna which is one of my fave romances ever (it has everything: canon soulmates, friends to lovers, sunshine x grump,battle couple etc..) that has recently became CANON BABIEE!!! There are MULTIPLE characters in RWBY with various disabilities that are handled well in the narrative but i would say Yangs definitely the top FAVE!