Suikerism
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"Hey, your hair's back!"
Sokka’s hands were everywhere. He wasn't checking for wounds or broken bones; he was reaching up, his fingers diving straight into the dark, messy tang of Zuko's hair. He gripped the back of Zuko’s head, his touch far too certain, his fingers acting as if they were already at home there.
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OR Zuko only finds Tagah attractive for a very specific reason.
Bookmarked by Suikerism
23 Apr 2026
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Sokka takes a strategic step back, but he also smiles: triumphant, like he baited Zuko into exactly what he wanted. Like it’s a challenge. It’s the same way he looked when they sized each other up at the prison, with Sokka in chains that left red marks around his wrist, in tattered prison garb, malnourished and angry. Back then, that was Sokka saying: I see your power. I see you. Now, see me.
Zuko saw him then. And he sees him now; different, but the same. I see you.
Zuko lights his daos in flame. Sokka grins, back to gravel and heat. “Come on, Fire Lord. Impress me.”
Zuko burns. His vision flickers with fire. His heart races. His blood sings. His body is like a magnet, pulling ever onward to meet Sokka’s. He advances.
He pins Sokka to the wall, blades against his throat.
Or, Zuko found Aang first, Sokka and Katara were imprisoned in Boiling Rock for trying to rescue their dad, and all Sokka knows is he's pretty sure he's not supposed to think the Fire Lord is attractive but he's never let things like rules stop him before.
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Bookmarked by Suikerism
21 Apr 2026
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At Sokka’s behest, the Gaang skips rescuing Zuko during the Siege at the North Pole. Instead they leave him, unconscious, buried in the snow.
In completely unrelated news, Sokka’s haunted by a ghost now.
(If you'd like more details before deciding to read this story, look here for spoilers.)
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Bookmarked by Suikerism
20 Apr 2026
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Five times Nick Wilde and Judy Hopps had perfectly reasonable, completely professional, absolutely-not-personal reasons to kiss each other. And one time they finally ran out of excuses to do it.
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Bookmarked by Suikerism
15 Apr 2026
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Fuck.
Jon's been saying that in his head for the last hour. Might've muttered it once or twice under his breath, too, though it's hard to tell since the inside of his skull feels like a yard of wet wool (heavy, tangled, and about as useful as tits on a breastplate).
Any man who stands in a smoke-stinking hut north of the Wall, arguing with his own shadow about asking another man for a favor like this, has already ridden past mad. The rest is just details.
Jon has a favor to ask. It's nothing. For Tormund. The problem is that Jon's not entirely sure it is nothing for Jon.
Bookmarked by Suikerism
21 Feb 2026
Bookmarker's Notes
name: A favor from a friend
author: maukree
ship: Tormund Giantsbane/Jon Snow