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#bison leather
kimludcom · 8 months
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SPECIFICATIONSBrand Name: BISON DENIMDepartment Name: AdultBelts Material: CowskinOrigin: Mainland ChinaCN: GuangdongGender: MENStyle: FashionBuckle Width: 4cmPattern Type: SolidBuckle Length: 5.5cmBelt Width: 3.8cmModel Number: W70252Item Type: BELTSPlace Of Origin: China (Mainland)
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5racha · 1 month
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Khaotung as Bison in The Heart Killers (Trailer)
(aka Khao in a leather jacket)
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secondlifep · 12 days
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Never be afraid to try something new!
Inspired by my trip to AMS a year ago, I fell in love with an amazing roll top bag that a beautiful friend of mine had - and I decided that I wanted to make one (yeah feckin' crazy) ...
The long story short is that over the past year I have been learning and practicing leather-craft. Watching videos, assembling tools, testing my skills and building a pattern for a roll top backpack inspired by my friends bag.
I've made a bunch of small things like wallets and bracelets and slowly building up my skills and confidence.
Starting a few weeks ago, I bought the leather (American Bison) and began laying out the pattern, cutting and adding tons of decorative stitching and then doing the final assembly.
70 hours later and lots of hand stitching and sore shoulders, I finally got it done, and I think it looks fucking amazing.
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Funguary day 18: inky cap! A right shaggy bison boy with many layers of fur and perpetually muddy hooves. Based on the Coprinus Comatus (photo below)
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Photo credit to user Bigredwine1 on Wikimedia Commons
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prairie-tales · 1 year
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'Hide Hunters'.
Mural by Texas artist Harold Dow Bugbee, 1956, which can be seen at the Panhandle-Plains Historical Museum’s in Canyon, Texas.
I am going to write an essay about bison hunting at some point, but for now will submit this brief explanation by Richard Grant from 2011:
The American bison is the largest mammal on the continent and a symbol of the American West. Herds migrate with the seasons and this is why the tribes that hunted them became nomadic. Now restricted to a few National Parks and a growing number of private ranches, at one time the accepted number of bison that roamed the West was 60 million. They were wiped out in less than 20 years by hide hunters, thereby depriving the Plains Indians of a livelihood*.
Numbers were reduced to less than 2,000 [other sources say fewer than that] and replaced by 50 million cattle. Some think this was a mistake as cattle are not nearly as well suited to the environment. Bison can give birth without the assistance of a vet, they have good immunity to the various endemic diseases, they can make it through the winter without supplemental feed and survive the storms with their big head and shaggy-furred shoulders. The animals evolved in this environment and therefore adapted to it over time. Cattle are not as hardy and do not always survive the winter. Bison are now growing in numbers again, mostly in farming, because their meat is low fat and tasty.
*As well as making money for the hide hunters and traders (there was an enthusiastic market for 'buffalo leather' in the east and Europe), the annihilation of the bison was also a deliberate tactic to deprive the Indians of their way of life and force them into the reservations.
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byeclownguy · 2 years
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delcompany-blog · 4 months
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Box cosmic latte
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View On WordPress
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toopeanutcrown · 4 months
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American Bison
Our authentic American Bison is custom tanned to our specifications by one of the most outstanding tanneries in North America. Our products are designed in Texas and made in North America.
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kraftymckrafterson · 8 months
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New Sea Kraken Octopus Leather Belt in with Solid Brass Buckle just added to the line. Shown on Yellowstone Lizard Bison Leather. From Cellar Leather on good old Cape Cod. #seakraken #octopus #leatherbelt #solidbrass #brass #buckle #yellowstone #lizard #bison #cellar #leather #capecod (at Cape Cod) https://www.instagram.com/p/Cp1ARv_P97x/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=
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hunterpetshop · 1 year
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Adjustable Dog Leashes in USA
Now get the most comfortable and easily Adjustable Dog Leashes in USA by the Hunter Pet Shop! Thanks to the three length options, the adjustable leash is suitable for handling any situation: whether you require a long leash for walks or a short one for training purposes or trips into town, these dog leashes can be adjusted in no time at all. Contact us or visit our online store now to find the perfect leash for your dog!
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gutsby · 2 months
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Just Peachy
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Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader
Summary: Joel’s got a jealous streak and a bold idea.
Warnings: 18+. Unprotected p-in-a. Loss of anal virginity. Possessiveness. Semi-public sex. Cumplay. Spit as lube.
Word count: 3.2k
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Joel was too old to get jealous.
Long before he ever reached fifty-one, the man had known who he was and what was his—and you were it.
He got a refresher each time he split you open and watched your soft, pliant hole form an even wider ‘o’ around his shaft, moans as profuse as the moisture leaking out of you. He took comfort in that. It wasn’t often he required a reminder with such immediacy as he’d needed it tonight: thrusting you headfirst into the bathroom at the Tipsy Bison with your hands pinned clumsily behind your back. You’d laughed when he did it.
“What’s up with you?” you’d murmured, eyes alight with amusement as you watched Joel yank his belt in two.
You would’ve liked to admire the shelf of hefty, salt-and-pepper speckled belly that was left on display by the loosening of the leather, the tugging of fabric away from his heated lower parts, but the moment was so fleeting. Joel hadn’t even bothered to respond before he was smoothing your dress over your hips, drawing in, and—
“Shit!”
You seized either side of the sink and let out a yelp loud enough to stir half the bar. Joel just grunted. Approving.
“‘Atta girl,” he said, burying himself inside your cunt.
Quick fucks were never Joel Miller’s métier, it was true. He much preferred the drawn-out bouts of lovemaking that had your knees and brains in a puddle of mush by the end of it. But now there was a will behind the weight of his thrusts, a calm and calculated fervor that sent each snap of his hips moving faster against your own. You knew there had to be a reason for such an outburst, feeling his hands singe your hips in a bruising grip, so you weren’t surprised in the slightest when you heard:
“That loser ever fuck you like this?”
You made an effort to meet Joel’s gaze in the mirror, but it was hard to keep it straight when his cock was sawing back and forth between your walls at a breakneck pace.
“W-W— Who?” you stammered, teeth gritting at the last.
“Dipshit in the Sigma Chi polo,” Joel returned gruffly.
You were in awe the man had seen you two at all, much less read the Greek letters and knew what they meant. You’d spent all of five minutes chatting it up with an ex whilst deliberating which Creed song to queue up on TouchTunes. There was no way he could’ve known.
Unless, of course…
“Tommy tell ya?” you said in a breath, grimace slowly morphing to a smirk as you clenched and held the sink.
Joel groaned but didn’t slow. He didn’t like that look. Perhaps by chance—but more likely on purpose—he drove his hips all the way in until the head of his cock kissed your cervix. Your nose almost hit the mirror.
“Fucker!” you hissed.
“Right?” Joel said, pretending to commiserate. Then, fighting back a grin as your own smile began to give way to a whimper, “Dude looked like a real fucker, for sure. Just hoped he never got the chance to do it to you.”
So that’s what this was all about—stated plain as day.
Joel was surprised he’d said it himself, but with the way your wet, messy cunt was pulling him in, he had to know.
It drove him insane to think one drop of that nectar had been meant for anyone else but him. He was, of course, too old to be concerned with anything resembling jealousy, but then again, you were you. And you were his. And, mature as your Joel tried to be, the thought of that shit-brained chump ramming his dick in and out of the softest, sweetest depths of your body had him contemplating violent crimes of every flavor.
“Did he?” Joel pressed again, a bit more stern this time.
You felt a hand thread through your hair to hold your face upright in front of the mirror. You stared and saw your mouth hanging slightly ajar, saliva pooling at the sides and threatening to spill with every stab of Joel’s cock.
You were surprised you could even speak at all when that cockdrunk pout made a low, slurred, ‘Di-id he what?’
“Did he fuck you here?”
Here? Like in the bar bathroom?
As if reading your mind and seeing you start to shake your head no, Joel stilled your motions with his hand and used the other for more leverage as he continued to drill.
“No, no, darlin’. I mean— he ever fuck this pretty hole?” And, as if to punctuate his question, Joel plunged his dick so far inside you that your face did tap the mirror; nowhere near hard enough to hurt, but enough to get your attention. And smear your lipgloss on the glass.
You reeled back and moaned. Felt a pit in your tummy.
Why drag it out? By the look in his eye, he already knew. You wouldn’t be sharing any earth-shattering secret now.
“Yes. Yes, I—” You sucked in a breath when you felt that pit become a pinch and in turn, cause your toes to curl, “—he fucked me.”
“Once? Twice?”
“Three t-times.”
To your surprise, you saw the corners of his lips twitch into a smile. Like he was pleased by what he’d heard.
“Oh yeah?” Joel hummed.
You whimpered in the affirmative and tried to nod, but it was hard to do with his fingers still tangled in your hair. Your walls involuntarily clenched around his cock, and you could’ve sworn you felt an influx of warmth follow after. If ‘apologetic cumslut’ had been the goal, you weren’t quite sure you were succeeding at anything but being the latter part. Joel seemed to notice as much.
“Did he cum inside and make a mess’a her, too?” he asked, teasing now as he took his thumb and started rubbing the slick flesh that was being stretched and stuffed full of his fat cock. His pace was slowing by turns.
Normally you could not stand the thought of a man policing your sexual history, but with Joel, it felt different. Like he wasn’t really making fun at all but simply poking and prodding around for the truth so he could get to someplace else. Still thumbing, gently.
“You let him fuck this cunt and stuff her full, pretty girl?”
You had no choice but to nod. His hips had lost nearly all their speed and were now making slow, shallow thrusts.
“Yes,” you whimpered, “I— I—”
—didn’t even know you then. Didn’t like the guy at all. Didn’t enjoy having him cum inside a fraction of the—
“I know, baby,” Joel interrupted you, still rubbing the rim of your cunt with feather-light touches, “‘S’okay, I know.”
You wanted to keen at how affectionate, warm, and soft he could be—amazed by the way he’d made that switch—when the force of Joel’s thrusts halted altogether. He leaned over your body to press a kiss to the side of your head, holding your gaze in the mirror. Grey stubble licked at your temple as his cock nestled deeper inside you, and the weight of his soft and muscled stomach pressed in.
His thumb moved too.
Sliding up to the taut ring of muscles above your full, aching pussy, Joel drew a slow ‘o’ and kissed you again.
“He ever fuck you here?” he asked.
Something fluttered in your stomach, and it sure as fuck wasn’t just butterflies. You stared at the man in disbelief.
You’d just begun to shake your head no when the tip of his thumb grazed the rim of your hole and sank inward. You choked on a gasp when you felt your ass pucker, and shit did Joel Miller look smug as he’d ever been when those too-tight-for-you muscles gave in and sucked in.
“What the— ah,” you hissed, slamming your palm flat on the mirror. You couldn’t see a thing besides Joel’s elbow jutting out, tanned bicep flexing with his ministrations, but you could feel his thumb swirl gently again. Inside.
“Anybody touch you here before, honey?” Joel said.
“Nuh-uh.”
Admittedly, you were a little unnerved, on the verge of being opposed to what this man was doing, when you felt the muscles snap back—Joel retracted his thumb—and two other digits hovered along the vulnerable spot. Just by chance, you caught a glimpse of what looked like Joel about to blow a kiss or whistle, and suddenly you sensed a wet glob of warmth on the small of your back.
Then sliding, gliding down to your crack and between your two cheeks with an obscene heat you would’ve never thought possible: Joel’s spit ran down to his hand, and his index and middle fingers started rubbing it in. Circling the hole and smearing it more for good measure, Joel grinned and placed a kiss atop your shoulder blade.
“Tell me it’s mine to fuck,” he mumbled.
“Joel—” you started.
A trail of kisses led up to the nape of your neck as the fingers pushed deeper. Joel’s touch was soft both ways.
“Only mine,” he tried again, and the request was implicit.
You clenched around his fingers and his cock, feeling the former slide back and forth with near-astonishing ease. You would be lying if you said the sensation, paired with the blunt, wily lilt to his words didn’t make your legs much weaker than they were before. No, it wasn’t just the matter of it being a first for you but a first and only for you both—Joel claiming a space where no man had ever fucked you and making it his own, filling you whole.
Joel spit again, and you hated that you’d come to crave the sound, but the obscene squelch of his saliva mixing in with your arousal as he worked his fingers in and out of your ass was like music to your ears. You whimpered and found yourself nodding quickly, half-embarrassed, saying it’s yours Joel, all of this is yours to fuck and fill.
You never had been one to tell the man no. Whether it was his head between your legs at the most inopportune of times, a blowjob behind the bar, or a lightning-fast quickie in the drive thru line, you were always down. And Joel was wholly enamored with the idea he could have you anywhere he liked—now in any hole he wanted, too. You could see the fuckdrunk look in his eyes as his digits pushed in and his cock dragged out of your cunt, leaving you empty in one and getting spread for him in the other.
Joel’s lips were glistening with spit and the world’s biggest grin as he caught your eye in the mirror. Then he leaned in closer, pressed a kiss to your temple again, and kept his mouth beside your ear as he whispered:
“I’ll be gentle, honey, I promise.”
You were each a trembling mess of hormones, lust, and bottom-shelf spirits, and you definitely shouldn’t have been trying anal for the very first time in Tommy’s bar. But your pussy and ass were drenched, Joel’s fingers had pulled out and made way for just the tip of his cock to notch into that space between your cheeks, and both your minds were delirious with the idea of doing a thing so taboo and new. Full primal desire took over, and before you could think twice about what it was you were doing, Joel was squeezing your hips and pushing in.
What felt like a full fucking thrust of him was really just an inch. Your hand clawed at the towel rack on the wall and seized the bar tight as a burn shortly, swiftly took root between your legs and forced a whimper from your throat. Joel swallowed a groan and kissed your neck.
“Need it slower?” he said as soon as he saw you wince.
Stinging and stretched as you were with just the tip, the filthy urge to have him further inside was too great. Against your body’s best interest and the ache in your core, you wiggled your hips and nudged more of him in.
Joel’s kiss turned to teeth in your skin, and he cursed.
“Fuck that’s so tight,” he said, words more like a growl, “Suckin’ me in so good, baby.”
You beamed with the most sick and lascivious sense of pride and pushed your ass back again. You heard the squelch, felt the reflexive pulse of your muscles struggle to take more in, but the burn that followed this time was eclipsed by the pleasure you felt in seeing Joel’s face.
Feeling him grip you tighter, watching that expression move from bliss to guilt to ‘Sweet pea, you sure it’s OK?’ to bliss once again when you braced your weight against the sink and started moving your ass gently in time with your breaths. Then that tender brown gaze fell to the space between your body and his, and Joel just watched you fuck him, groaning each time your hole stretched.
There wasn’t a thought in his mind that wasn’t obscene. Practically monopolized by primal need, Joel Miller saw his cock glide back and forth inside you and seemed to be capable of conjuring no other thought than ‘mine.’
‘This sweet little peach is all for me, ain’t it, baby?’ Words as soft as velvet came tumbling off his lips, and he scarcely even knew he was talking, or grinning, or doing much of anything but fucking you and loving every second. The fingers of his left hand kneaded your hip while the ones on his right moved over your front. Thick, callused, and quickly soaked in your arousal, his middle finger made an easy trail to your clit and started rubbing.
You clamped your teeth tight in an effort to contain a cry. You whined into Joel’s touch, throat humming with that pathetic little sound as his groin sank deep to find the backs of your thighs and—finally—was inside you fully.
Words barely registered in your brain above the whir of your pulse in your ears, the pleasure unfurling from this strange new place, but Joel made sure you heard it when he leaned back in and murmured, ‘C’mon, baby, who’s this hole belong to, huh?’ as he tilted his hips up, body blanketing yours completely from behind. When you couldn’t contain the cry this time and your mouth fell open in a moan, he took that as his chance to slide his tongue inside and start to thrust, pinning you to the sink.
“You,” you whimpered feebly into his mouth. His tongue and the sounds of wet, sticky skin colliding over and over again all but drowned out what you were trying to say.
“What’s’at?” Joel returned, equally muffled but in far greater control of his words, it seemed, “This for him?”
“N-N-No, Joel.”
“Whose is it, then?”
You tried to answer ‘You’ again, but a shockwave of pleasure stole the air from your lungs, and you just whined in Joel’s mouth once more, head tilted limply to him as he shook your whole body with thrusts. You reached back to find a forearm, a hand, anything of his to anchor yourself, and you felt his fingers grip yours. Then he brought your hand and his up to the mirror, and he placed them flat on the glass—his big one overtop, dwarfing your own—and his hips picked up their speed.
Your lips parted just long enough to tilt your gaze ahead—Joel’s face and yours resting side-by-side in the mirror while he fucked you faster and deeper and grit his teeth.
“Use those words,” he seethed. Groaning when you clenched around him, nipping the cusp of your cheek.
If there was any doubt of what primal urges could do to a man like Joel, you were seeing it now. Feeling him stuff you full, pull back, and crash his hips into yours again and again while those sharp incisors took the tiniest, teasing, feral bites, it was like watching him come undone before he’d even cum inside you. His irises reduced to two minuscule rings around black, dilated pools; torso caging you in; breaths and groans and helpless moans commingled in a hot, plaintive medley.
Joel was too old to get jealous, and yet, he had never in his life wanted to hear the words that you were his and his alone more than he did right now, fucking you raw in a hole that had never been breached by anyone but him.
Your gaze remained on his in a sweet, near-innocent look—a staggering feat for someone getting their ass fucked bare in a dirty bar bathroom—and beneath his hand, he felt you squeeze his fingers. Your cunt fluttered too.
“It’s yours, Joel.”
The head of Joel’s cock took a nosedive to the furthest depths of you, as far as he could manage it, and he kept fucking you there, like he couldn’t bear to leave it.
“Say it again,” he said, voice hoarse. Pleading.
With what little strength you had, you laced your fingers with his on the mirror so he was holding your hand in a fist. Then you pressed your knuckles to the glass, squeezed as hard as your muscles would allow, and met his thrusts gently, keeping your eyes on him all the while.
“I’m all yours,” you returned—and when the hulking man with his grey, sweat-dampened hair and dark eyes and arms locked tight around your frame let out a whimper, you knew you’d said exactly what Joel needed to hear.
His hips canted wildly, quietly into your own, those tough and stubbled lips releasing sounds like you’d never heard before; never even thought possible for a man his size and stature with such a replete desire for dominance. This Joel was needy, panting in your ear while nudging his nose to the shell of it, ‘Baby, please keep fucking me, please, just, fuck—’ and seizing your hand, your waist, whatever flesh he could find while his cock pummeled a desperate and frenzied pace inside you. And, as much as you wished that glimpse of him would last, it was also what sent you both over the edge in the seconds right after. Your toes curled into cool checkered tile, Joel’s hand made an even tighter fist, and together, you trembled and cursed and groaned through your highs like it was the first you’d ever felt. In a way, it was.
As new to you as it was to him, that feeling pulsed and throbbed between your bodies in a shockwave of pure satiety. It left you breathless. Boneless. Slumping inward and into each other, at length, until your full weight was pressed onto that porcelain sink, and you were sure the force would tear the fixture off the wall at any second.
Fortunately, it didn’t budge.
Joel leaned even further into you and exhaled.
Evidently, the sink beneath you was the furthest thing from his mind, and all he could do was keep fucking his cum deeper while the spray of his spend was still fresh on your walls. Gently, but with intent, he drove his cock back and forth. He felt a drop or two trickle out of your wet, stretched hole and groaned, then kissed your neck.
Still in awe of what had just happened. What you’d said. Trying hard not to grin too big when he felt your walls clench around him, and you let out a low, shaky sigh.
“Feelin’ okay, baby?”
You smiled back.
“Just peachy.”
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mimiteyy · 1 year
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playing minecraft n having mod specific dilemmas
a livestock mod has made it hard to find farm animals outside of villages, so I wanna make a horse-drawn cart to haul some over from a village. but idk how to craft it
so I’m sifting thru the JEI menu trying to find it but there’s like 45 pages of Stuff
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imagines--galore · 1 year
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||Theatrics||
Summary: During a little impromptu training session, you happen to sprain your ankle. Luckily Zuko is around to help you back to Katara so she can help. Unfortunately for Zuko, you have a tendency to be slightly dramatic about your injuries.
Pairing: Zuko x Reader
Rating || Genres || Warnings: T. Romance. Fluff. Slight mention of injury but that about it.
A/N: You guys voted, so here it is! Also gif is definitely Zuko’s reactions to reader’s.....theatrics :3
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"I’m dying!”
“You’re not dying Y/n.”
“Then why is the world growing dark!?”
“You probably have your eyes closed.”
"I do not need your sass while I am dying Zuko!”
“Well maybe you should shut up before I drop your dying butt.”
Smack.
“Ow!”
“Rude Zuko!”
“Thats it! You can crawl back for all I care.”
“No! Wait! Zuko! Wait!! I’ll be quiet.”
“One more word out of you, and I won’t carry you back.”
Katara looked up from where she had been mending Sokka’s shirt, again. There was no one in sight yet Zuko and Y/n’s voices were loud enough to echo along the path leading up to the main courtyard of the Ember Island Summer House. She stood, dropping her sewing to side as she quickly made her way towards the door and peered outside.
It took a minute or so, but then she saw the approaching figure of Zuko with.......you on his back. An amused smile played across the young waterbender’s lips as she watched the Fire Nation prince approach with you slung over his back, your arms wrapped around his shoulders to keep yourself in place.
“Katara! Oh! Now I won’t perish! Or perhaps I will? The pain is too much.” You moaned, throwing your head back for dramatic effect, the force of which nearly made Zuko stumble in his steps. Katara giggled as Zuko huffed in annoyance.
“She twisted her ankle.” He explained as he carried you into the courtyard with Katara trailing behind.
“And who’s fault is that? If you hadn’t startled me during my practice then I wouldn’t have twisted it.” You snapped back. Clearly the pain was making you more then a little cranky.
Zuko rolled his eyes, turning around and dropping you, rather unceremoniously onto the wooden platform that led to the rooms. You gave a little yelp, glaring at the Prince who smirked back as you rubbed your tailbone a little. Katara, ever the kind soul, carefully removed your shoe. You let out a soft hiss as the leather was slipped off.
Removing the cork from her water pouch, Katara made quick work of assessing the damage. “Well you definitely twisted it. I’ll try to heal it as much as I can, but it’ll be a little while before you’re able to walk on it properly. Probably a day or two.” You turned to glare at Zuko who rolled his eyes. “I’ve blasted you off the side of a flying bison Y/n. I don’t see you holding a grudge about that against me.” He said, referring to the days when he had spent chasing Aang and the rest of them.
“Yeah, well I got my revenge when I knocked you out with a blow to the back of your head.” As Katara started her healing process you held up a threatening finger in his direction. “You better watch out Princey, I will have my revenge.”
Zuko smirked. “What will you do? Hobble after me waving a crutch?” You growled under your breath, looking like you would leap at him at any moment. And if your ankle wasn’t throbbing so much you would have.
“Now now children. Lets not fight.” Katara said in a mocking tone as she tried to contain her laughter. You let out a small sound of relief as some of the throbbing was alleviated as Katara worked her healing abilities. “You’re a spirit-send Katara.” You said, gratitude shining in your eyes as you grinned at the girl.
Zuko frowned. “What am I? An ostrich-horse? I carried you back and you don’t call me a spirit-send.” You turned your attention back towards him, an annoyed frown creasing your forehead. “And who’s fault was it that you had to carry me back?”
“Don’t be so dramatic.”
“I am a performer, I’m supposed to be dramatic.”
“Over dramatic you mean.”
“Need I remind you, the acting company I worked for won awards for being one of the best in the Earth Kingdom.”
“Probably when you weren’t working for them.”
“As if your dramatic self is any better? Out of all of us, who’s the one moaning about his so-called honor all the time?”
“That was in the past.”
“The past was only a couple months ago, Princey.”
“Shut it Drama Queen.”
“Ah! At least I’m a rank above you, you fire-breathing-”
“Er.....guys?”
You and Zuko broke eye-contact to glare at the poor unsuspecting Avatar who had just arrived from the market with Sokka, Suki and Toph from an errand run.
“What?” The two of you snapped in unison, prompting Aang to let out a nervous laugh and slowly back off, holding his hands up in a surrendering manner.
Taking the lull in the argument, Katara quickly finished bandaging up your ankle and patted it in a reassuring manner. “There, you’ll be all better tomorrow.” You gave a small smile in thanks to the girl before gripping the sides of the wooden platform and slowly starting to stand. You tried putting some weight on your bad ankle, only to wince at the pain that radiated from there. It was much better then what it had been a few moments ago, but it still hurt.
“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I shall be retiring to my room.” With a haughty look in Zuko’s direction, you turned towards where you room was.
"Isn’t our room upstairs Y/n?”Toph helpfully reminded you, causing you to pause from hobbling forward. Your face fell, shoulders slumping, causing Sokka to let out a bark of laughter, only to shut up when Suki gave his shoulder a light punch.
“Hey Aang? Can Appa drop me into my room through the window?” You asked, turning to the younger boy with a pleading look. Before Aang could reply, Zuko let out a loud groan, throwing his head back to stare at the sky as he growled.
"For the love of Spirits!”
With that he stomped forward, and before you even got the chance to say anything, he had lifted you off the ground, one arm secured around your waist, the other under your knees to keep you from falling. Meanwhile, you had let out a shriek of surprise, your arms coming to wrap around his shoulders.
“If we want to defeat the Father Lord, you’d better start laying off from the FireFlakes.” He grumbled as he began to carry you towards the stairs.
“Its Fire Lord, and are you insinuating that I am fat?!”
“I said that! And I’m not insinuating, I’m stating a fact.”
Thwack!
“Ow! Will you stop hitting me?!”
“Then stop being so rude. I thought Prince’s were all about manners and chivalry when it comes to ladies.”
“Lady? You? Please! Toph is much more of a lady then you are.”
Thwack!
“You hit me one more time and I’ll drop you on these stairs.”
“Do it! I’d rather crawl up then be carried by you anyway!”
“Ungrateful brat!”
“Pouty prince!”
“Drama queen!”
“Honor bound jerk!”
Your voices started to muffle to the rest of the group as the two of you walked further into the house. The younger members of the group stood where they were, a little dumbfounded at what had just occurred.
“I bet you anything these two are gonna be even worse with their flirting when they get married.”
Sokka gaped at Toph, who stood there smirking.
“That was flirting?!” He exclaimed, prompting his girlfriend to roll her eyes at her boyfriend, smiling at how oblivious Sokka could be. Aang blinked his wide grey eyes. “You know, now that I think about it, whenever we fought Zuko in the past, Y/n always had something to say to him.”
“And he always said something back.” Katara added, the laughter obvious in her tone as she continued to listen to the muffled arguing through the wooden floor above.
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smoqueen · 1 month
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the leather butch, with her sexy as fuck M Bison hat
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Imagine Zuko when you’re paralysed with fear at the sight of Azula…
It had been a peaceful morning just like the previous two days - until the ground quaked violently. Eyes flew open at the imminent danger and Aang was quick enough to deflect an incoming fireball as the rest of the group scrambled to their feet.
Zuko’s eyes widened when he realised their attacker. “It’s Azula.”
You had just thrown a bag into Appa’s saddle when you heard him and ice trickled through your body. Stumbling back, you accidentally stepped on Momo’s tail to which he screeched and then nursed in his little paws.
You would have apologised. You would have done anything but you stood frozen with fear clawing at your throat seizing all breath.
There was a series of calls for you but it was fuzzy to your ears - all but one. Golden eyes found themselves in your line of vision until it was all you could see. A warm hand against your waist, another on your cheek giving off a natural heat that thawed you for a few moments to focus.
“Look at me. You need to get on the saddle, okay? I’ll handle this.” Zuko said.
You took in a small breath, apparently you were still alive and breathing. Unable to find the words, you blinked and it was enough for the Prince.
He gently but quickly urged you towards the sky bison where Sokka had a hand extended. When he had yours gripped firmly, Zuko let you go and ran for the ledge to face his sister.
What happened in the moments after were a blur, there was yelling and the smell of fire and earth in the air. Appa was speeding through the valleys in order to escape and you held the side of the saddle to keep from flying off.
Just as he levelled out, you heard a voice in the air. That conceited, cold, relentless one that spent days and nights in your prison chamber. Then you heard her laugh - the very same one that echoed when spikes of lightning shot into your shackled, defenceless body until your screams forced blood.
Scrunching your eyes, you let go of the saddle and covered your ears. You didn’t care if you flew off. You just wanted to be away from her. Curling into yourself, you laid on the leather base and tried to drown out the sound.
There were shouts from somewhere above. A hand gently pressed against your arm as Appa changed flight and dipped low hard. The hot rush of air reminded you too much of the prison cell and memories began to flash. You started to drown in them, missing the additional thud of a body in the saddle.
Appa levelled out once more, still maintaining speed but the loud voices outside had reduced to softer tones - unlike the ones in your head.
Your nails dug into your scalp as your mind drowned you in the very worst trauma. And you begged for it to stop. You’d do anything for it to stop.
Something familiar moved closer, warm hands finding purchase over yours. They were steady and safe, carefully prying the tight hold away. A muffled voice made its way through your head and worked a soothing balm across the chaos.
Finally, you could feel a line between the past and reality. And you fought hard to stay in the land of the latter.
The air around you had cooled. Your cheeks felt wet and your hands were holding onto a soft fabric that smelled of home.
It was enough to finally pull you out of the haze and understand where you were.
Zuko was laying with you. His arms wrapped protectively, body flush against yours. His head nuzzled by your neck while his mouth whispered to you alone.
He was telling you a story about a prince who promised to give his life to protect the love of his life.
“You’re the love of mine.” He said with a gentle squeeze. “You will always be and I will never let you hurt like that again. I promise.”
~ More imagines here ~ (for more ATLA)
A/n: 2.5 hours sleep works wonders sometimes…
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