there will never be anything as funny as the mutual disbelief between long form and short form fic writers about each other's style.
short form writers look at people writing 100k+ fics as though this is some sort of talent given as part of a fae bargain, that the commitment required shows some sort of ungodly mental fortitude.
meanwhile long form writers look at people writing 1000 word one shots like god I would cut off my left nipple to be able to say anything concisely. i would love to play with multiple ideas. free me from the shackles of this child I have birthed. i love them but I now must take them to t-ball and doctor's appointments and they're going to destroy everything I own.
psa because for some reason it needs to be fucking said but do not post information pertaining to family members of the omens even if it’s “public” googe-able info. using that shit as “tea” is highly inappropriate and shows that you’re a poor excuse of a human being lol
this is why these boys aren’t actively online anymore because some of you don’t understand the concept of boundaries. please leave them alone. and block bodamenstea or whatever their user is for posting that shit. thanks.
summary: you take care of a drunken Zuko only for him to make a startling confession
You’re just about to apply a soothing mud mask to start off a relaxing evening alone when a harsh pounding at the door has you freezing in your tracks. You set the bowl aside with an annoyed huff at the disturbance as you quickly throw on your robe. You weren’t exactly expecting company, and you had been looking forward to a peaceful night to yourself after a long day at the beach.
You’re staying at Zuko’s beach house on Ember Island for a summer getaway with your friends, and you’ve enjoyed being able to catch up on each other’s lives and reminiscence on the days of your adolescence. Though you appreciate spending time with the group after being apart for so long you felt you needed space to recharge, so you declined their invitations to go out for the night and chose to stay home. Suki, Katara, and Aang were out enjoying a night swim while Sokka, Toph, and Zuko decided to explore the city. You didn’t expect anyone to be home for hours which is why you’re surprised to hear someone at the door.
Holding your robe closed with one hand as you open the door with the other, you prepare to scold the trespasser only to be met with the sight of a barely coherent Zuko propped upright between Sokka and Toph. The water tribe boy’s features are apologetic as he allows the Fire Lord to lean against him for balance, though Toph appears completely unbothered by the situation.
“Look, buddy, we’re back at the beach house,” Sokka tells him with a careful nudge, prompting Zuko to lift his head in confusion. Though clearly inebriated, he manages to make out your figure in the doorway and immediately lights up excitement.
“You found y/n!” He cheers, nearly toppling over as he tries to reach for you. Thankfully, Sokka and Toph manage to catch him before he falls flat on his face.
“Hi, Zuko,” you coo with a sympathetic smile that immediately fades as you turn your reproachful stare towards Sokka. “What did you do?”
“Nothing illegal,” Toph answers in their defense only to receive a glare from her accomplice.
“He had a bit too much to drink at the tavern, and he kept insisting on coming to see you.”
You don’t give an immediate reply, instead choosing to mull over his words as you look from him to Zuko. You realize then that you’ve never actually seen him drunk before. As Fire Lord he took great pride in keeping his composure and maintaining his image as a responsible leader, but being on vacation with your closest friends must have coaxed him into letting his guard down.
“Give him to me,” you finally respond with a resigned sigh, accepting the fact that your night of relaxation will have to be saved for another time. Sokka and Toph are careful as they maneuver Zuko into your hold, helping him drape his arm around your shoulders as you hold onto him by the waist.
“So uh, do you need any help? Because we were thinking of joining the rest of the group for that night swim—”
“Go,” you tell him with an amused roll of your eyes, “I’ve got it from here.”
You watch with a quiet laugh as he quickly bounds off towards the beach with Toph in tow, leaving you on your own to take care of Zuko. You manage to balance your combined weights on one foot as you use the other to shut the door. His head lulls to the side at your movements, his hot breath fanning against your neck as he struggles to keep his eyes open, and you try not to let this distract you from the task at hand.
“Alright, Zuko, I’m going to need your help getting you to your room,” you inform him softly, giving his waist a gentle squeeze to ensure he remains awake. “Can you do that for me?”
He hiccups, letting out a laugh before he responds, “I’d do anything for you, y/n— anything at all! You deserve nice things, and I-I can do those nice things. I’m really nice now.”
You try not to encourage his behavior, but you can’t help the giggle that escapes you at his change in demeanor. It’s certainly a stark contrast to his normally broody personality, and you enjoy getting to see the more playful side of him shine through. Compared to your days as teenagers he’s definitely learned to lighten up, but he still tends to convey his humorous nature more sparsely in comparison to the rest of the group. You like to think he’s most comfortable sharing that side of himself with you, but you try not to dwell on the fact in order to avoid setting yourself up for disappointment.
You don’t remember when exactly you first realized you had a crush on Zuko or how your feelings had transitioned from platonic to romantic, but for years you’ve harbored your affection for him under the guise of friendship. There hadn’t been time for romance during the war, and when he became Fire Lord he resumed his relationship with Mai, thus effectively destroying any chance of you ending up together. Even though they’d been broken up for years now, you’d long since accepted that it was never going to happen, and you wouldn’t jeopardize your friendship over a silly childhood infatuation that was clearly unrequited, so you told absolutely no one and swore yourself to secrecy.
You manage to get Zuko into bed, though not without difficulty, and assist him in removing his shoes so he can lay comfortably on the mattress. Though he’s now in the perfect condition to sleep off the alcohol, he simply sits propped against the pillows with his hands resting upon his stomach as he watches you move about the room. You open his window to allow fresh air to waft through and bring a bucket to his bedside in case he grows nauseous. You do everything in your power to make him content in his drunken state, and this doesn’t go without notice.
“I’m going to get you some water,” you inform him quietly only for his hand to immediately shoot out and grab onto your wrist, effectively keeping you in place.
“Don’t go,” he nearly begs, the emotion in his voice catching you off guard. “I want— I need you here.”
“It’ll only take a second—“
“Later,” he insists with a dramatic shake of his head. “That’s not impor-important… Need you. I only need you.”
His words hit your stomach like a gut punch, your heart lurching in your chest and your face heating from the drunken tenderness of his request. He has no idea how much of an effect he has on you, and even in his inebriated state you catch yourself yearning for him to return your affection. Things could be so much easier for you if you simply told him how you felt, but your fear held you back. You firmly remind yourself that you’re just friends, and he’s only seeking the comfort of a companion to help him deal with the intoxication.
“Okay,” you finally relent through a trembling breath, thankful he’s in no state to pick up on your nervous tells as you seat yourself beside him on the mattress. His head immediately falls to rest upon your shoulder, and you allow yourself the privilege of wrapping an arm around his shoulders as you’ve done so many times before.
“Thank you,” he sighs in relief, allowing his eyes to shut in hopes of stopping the spinning sensation he’s felt since returning to the beach house.
You sit in a comfortable silence for some time, neither of you daring to speak as you enjoy the quiet period of rest. Your fingers find their way towards the back of his head, and you absently begin to rake through his long strands of hair in the way you know he likes. These stolen moments are what allow you to ease the longing ache in your chest every time you’re around him, and you’re grateful he’s never seemed to mind your displays of affection. You let him believe they’re platonic for his sake and for your own sanity. It’s better this way, you think.
“You smell good,” Zuko blurts suddenly, effectively rupturing the silence. “Did you know you smell good?”
An amused huff escapes your nose as you glance over at him. “I didn’t know that, but thank you.”
“You’re just so good… you’re a good person, and I want you to know that you’re a good person. The best person!”
“I think that’s the alcohol talking,” you jest playfully, causing him to shake his head vehemently in protest.
“It’s the truth talking,” he argues passionately despite slurring his words in the process. “You’re so nice and funny and pretty. You’re like… you’re the prettiest girl.”
“Zuko,” you gently try to interrupt. Your heart is hammering in your chest and you can feel the blood rushing towards your ears as you try to stop his drunken rambling. You know he means well and can hardly comprehend what he’s saying right now, but you don’t think you can handle him spewing compliments at you when he doesn’t understand just how deeply it affects you.
“I wish you knew how much I like you,” he sighs, causing you to stiffen in place beside him. You don’t dare look at him or speak, simply holding your breath as you wait for him to continue. “You’re so good for me… I think about you even when you’re not around. I miss you all the time… do you know what that’s like?”
“Yeah,” you admit in quiet defeat, clearing your throat to ease the knot that had formed and pensively looking out towards the window. “Yeah, I do.”
You feel him relax against you, his steady breathing filling the air as he finally passes out from exhaustion. You let out a sigh as you carefully maneuver yourself out of bed and allow him to fall back against the mattress. You make sure to position him on his side and leave the bucket nearby before you set off to fetch him a pitcher of water.
You have no idea what to make of his drunken confession. He’d called you pretty, insisted that he needed you, even confessed to having feelings for you, but did it really mean anything? You don’t want to trust the words of an inebriated man, but you can’t deny the nervous fluttering in your stomach as you replay the moment over again in your mind. You so desperately want him to return your affection, but you know by morning he’ll have no recollection of your conversation and everything will return to normal. You can do nothing but settle into your own room and hope you can avoid ever having to talk about this night.
You manage to get some sleep in spite of your inability to quell your racing thoughts, and when morning arrives you make no mention of the conversation that had occurred when your friends ask about last night. They inform you they’re going to the local marketplace in search of groceries for breakfast, and you volunteer to stay behind to keep an eye on Zuko. You two have always been close, so no one suspects anything of your offer as they bid you goodbye and assure you of a quick return.
You enjoy the silence of the morning as you sip your tea and watch the waves crash on the shore from the window. A soft thud breaks you from your contemplative state, and you glance towards Zuko’s bedroom where a groan drifts through the sliding doors.
“Y/n…?” He calls hoarsely, and you wince at the sound of dry heaving that follows. Setting your cup aside, you quickly make your way into his room and find him hunched over the bucket you left behind. Rushing to his side, you help him pull the hair from his face and fashion it into a loose bun with your own hair tie.
“I’m here,” you assure him with a careful smile as you rub soothing circles into his back. You try not to pay too close attention to the feel of his muscles beneath your palm or the fact that he’d managed to remove his shirt in the night.
“I feel horrible,” he complains with a groan as he leans back against the bed frame. “Never let me go drinking with Toph ever again.”
“You found that out the hard way, huh?” You tease him with a gentle laugh as you reach for the pitcher of water and pass it into his grasp. “Drink water, you’ll feel better.”
You watch him begin to take greedy gulps from the pitcher, droplets of water dribbling past his chin and down the expanse of his chest. You look away flustered and silently curse the spirits for putting you in such a precarious situation. Every time you think you have your feelings under control Zuko unknowingly finds a way to push you over the edge.
“I hope I wasn’t too much trouble last night,” he apologizes after drinking the last of the water. “I made such a fool of myself.”
“Don’t beat yourself up too much. I mean, you definitely were nowhere near as bad as Sokka on cactus juice,” you humor him with a giggle, earning a wry smile from the Fire Lord in return.
“That makes me feel a little better,” he admits softly, carefully wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before allowing his head to fall against the edge of the mattress. “Spirits…”
“What is it?”
You tilt your head curiously when his features turn solemn. His eyes shut close as he releases a slow breath, and after a beat passes he allows them to open so he may turn to face you. His golden irises shine with an emotion you’ve never seen him convey before, and it has your breath catching in your throat as you struggle to maintain eye contact.
“I know what I said last night,” he professes timidly, causing your heart to nearly leap out of your chest with anguish. Your face starts to burn and you want nothing more than to find a way out of this conversation, but with the rest of the group gone you know there’s no chance at escape.
“Oh… right. That,” you breathe shakily. Your gaze trails to the floor as you prepare yourself for the inevitable rejection. If you can survive a lightning strike from Azula, then you can survive Zuko taking back everything he’d side while drunk. At least, that’s what you try to tell yourself. “Listen, it’s not a big deal-“
“It is to me,” he interrupts you with a faint frown. You startle when his fingertips touch the skin of your cheek and gently guide your face back towards him. You hope he can’t feel how warm to the touch you are or hear the rapid beating of your heart. “I’d never want to put our friendship in jeopardy or make you uncomfortable.”
“Zuko, it’s fine-“ you try to interrupt only for him to grow frustrated.
“No, y/n, you need to hear what I have to say,” he demands firmly, and finally you fall quiet. He sighs, not meaning to snap at you but desperate to get the words out. “I… I meant what I said.”
“What?”
A faint blush dusts his face as he nervously grasps the back of his neck and offers you a meek smile. “I know I wasn’t exactly myself last night, and though I wish I could have conveyed my thoughts when I was in a better state of mind, that doesn’t mean I wasn’t telling the truth.”
“So you…. You do like me?” you murmur softly, your stomach fluttering with nerves as you try to process his confession. You can’t believe what you’re hearing, and a part of you thinks you must be dreaming, but the feel of his hand reaching for your own proves otherwise.
“I have for a while now,” he assures you sheepishly, “I guess I just needed some liquid courage to tell you. This doesn’t have to change anything between us if you don’t want it to, and I understand if you don’t feel the same-“
“I like you too,” you interrupt, wincing with embarrassment at your abruptness. He lets out a quiet laugh, but it’s the reassurance you need to continue. “I never wanted to tell you in case you didn’t feel the same, but then you called me pretty and I kind of lost any sense of rational thinking…”
“You are pretty,” he affirms with a tender smile, taking your hand in his own and lifting your knuckles to his lips for a kiss. “If you’ll have me, I’d like to take you to dinner tonight so I may ask to court you the right way.”
“I’d love nothing more,” you nearly swoon, enjoying the feel of his lips against your skin and the satisfaction that comes from knowing the boy you’ve loved since childhood returns your affections.
