#chsfic
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pairing: vernon x reader
word count: 3.7k
warnings: angst (she did it y’all!!!!), swearing, kissing, wet!vernon
Author’s Note: this fic is part of the Thirteen Valentines event, but can be read as a standalone! also, i would suggest listening to the song listed below to get a feel for the vibe of the fic, but it’s not necessary. Happy Birthday, Bononie!
kissing in swimming pools by holly humberstone
do you think we were made
to last in the coldest of weather?
maybe i don’t have to leave so soon
you look heavenly in this shade of blue
Vernonie [8:48pm]: finally back from dinner
Vernonie [8:49pm]: everyone’s gone btw, so i’ll come get u now?
Y/N [8:51pm]: yeye! Just text when ur outside
You hear his car before you see it.
His parents must have kept his old, beat-up car from high school for when he came back for the summer, you muse, and it makes you smile. You’d spent a lot of time in that car, listening to whatever new indie band Vernon had “discovered” that week, or eating take-out in the department store parking lot after hours, or your personal favourite: with the engine shut off at the lookout Vernon had discovered on his way home from work one day, tucked away from most of the world as the two of you reclined in his car seats and looked at the night sky.
You used to wonder if it was there that you fell in love with him, but the truth is that you loved him long before he showed up at your door at 1am, eyes wide with excitement over his new discovery, and brought you there in your pajamas.
You still have the hoodie he’d leant you that night in the closet of your childhood bedroom.
Tonight, you shut the door quietly behind you out of habit, twisting the knob so it doesn’t make a sound. You’re long past the days of sneaking out, but your muscle memory won’t quit.
It’s been eight months since you last saw Vernon. You only came home for two days at Christmas, claiming you couldn’t take that much time off from your part time job, and had managed to avoid him. You had still needed the space from him, then. December had only marked four months since he’d broken your heart, and you weren’t sure at the time if you’d ever be able to look him in the eye again.
The months after Christmas break had finally begun to heal you. Your new semester had started, and you had decided to dive headfirst into both academic and social endeavors instead of wallowing away in your dorm room. You’d finally made new friends, your grades had improved, and while it still hurt to see his name when it popped up across your social media platforms, it wasn’t all you thought about anymore.
Right now, you kind of can’t wait to see him.
“Hi,” you say, breathless, and when Vernon meets your eyes, you know you’re not breathless because of the jog from your front door to his car.
He looks good. His hair is a bit longer, curling at the ends and falling softly across his forehead, and you think his shoulders have filled out. His jaw is just as sharp, eyelashes just as long, and you immediately wonder how you’d gone so long without him.
“Hi, stranger,” he says, and you’re terrified that the sound of his voice might tear you apart — but it doesn’t. You hold firm, despite the sound of your heartbeat roaring loud in your ears. It hurts, but it’s a dull ache instead of the sharp pain you’re used to. Seeing him sends a wave of relief through you instead of the dread you’d been half expecting, and you can feel the tension in your chest ease just the slightest bit. You can do this. Because it’s Vernon, and because life sucks without him.
You stare at each other for a few moments, and then he raises an eyebrow as if in a challenge, and you can’t help it. You break into a smile, and then you’re surging across the middle console and pulling him in for a hug. He laughs against your neck, and you know he’s just as happy to see you as you are him. The hand that was on the steering wheel finds your back, and your eyes fall shut.
“I missed you,” you say honestly, and you swear you can feel him exhale.
“Yeah,” he says before squeezing you tight, once. Brief, but enough for you to feel it, to understand, as he adds, “Me too.”
You pull back. Vernon puts the car into drive as you click on your seatbelt, and you fall into an easy, comfortable silence as he begins to make the familiar way back to his place.
When you texted him a few weeks ago, your hands trembling but determined, you hadn’t been sure what he would say. You hadn’t spoken in months.
For a while, you didn’t think you’d ever get over the rejection of last August, but a year away at university had done you good. It was full of distractions; you’d even had a couple of flings here and there. Vernon had texted you a bit at first, because you’d insisted that you were fine, but it had hurt to see his name show up on your phone. You had responded slowly, using any and all excuses to explain away the days that passed without you answering. You’d texted sparingly throughout the year on birthdays and holidays, and you knew he watched your stories the same as you watched his. You knew he knew the real reason why you were distant, but he never pushed. After all, he’d broken your heart, not the other way around.
Eventually, you had recognized that the distance was helping, and conversations between the two of you had become even more sparse after that. It had been hard — one of the hardest things you’d ever had to do — but you’d needed the space. So when his response to your text a few weeks ago had come quickly and enthusiastically, a Vernon-esque “bet :)” in response to your ask to hang out when you got home for the summer, you had been so relieved that you’d cried. Though you’d known he would never hate you, deep down a small part of you had still been afraid that you’d pushed him away for good.
The silence in the car tonight is comfortable, and you’re grateful. Vernon is tapping in tune to the beat on his steering wheel while you hum along in quiet contentment. After a couple of songs that you recognize play in a row, you turn to him in surprise.
“Is this the playlist I made you for your birthday two years ago?”
Vernon simply nods, eyes on the road as he makes a turn. “Yeah.”
“Oh.”
Vernon laughs. “Am I not supposed to listen to it?”
“Just surprised me, that’s all.”
”Okay, weirdo.”
The conversation moves on, but you don’t forget about it, even as you pull up to Vernon’s childhood home.
It looks almost exactly the same. You follow Vernon up the steps and to the front door, through the foyer and to the kitchen where you used to help his mom prep for their summer barbecues. He tosses you a bottle of water wordlessly before he’s slipping out the back door without warning, and you trail behind without question. His peculiar mannerisms don’t faze you, even after all this time apart, and that realization brings you a warm sort of comfort.
As soon as you step through the back door and into the warmth of the summer evening air again, you can’t help but smile. This, too, remains unchanged. The heated pool with its blue and white tiled sides; the metal table with its umbrella, a single tip bent out of shape so that it sags just in one small part; the overgrown trees whose leaves spill over the sides of the wooden fence. You’d spent many days and nights here, too.
You join Vernon, who’s already sitting on the edge of the pool with his legs hung over the sides.
“Damn, you didn’t waste any time, Sol.” The nickname falls out before you can stop it. It’s been so long since you’ve been around him, since you’ve even let yourself think of him as anything other than Vernon. If he notices your slip up, he doesn’t say.
”It’s hot out,” he points out, simple. “Why wait?” He takes a swig of his own water bottle, and you’re smiling again.
You join him without further comment.
Quiet settles between the two of you again, which would be fine if you weren't suddenly itching to ask him a million questions. How was his first year of university? How are his parents, his sister? Is his favourite food still carne asada tacos? Does he still only own t-shirts and jeans? Is he… seeing anyone?
Is he happy?
Had he really missed you?
“I’ll be right back.”
You’re surprised when Vernon gets up, barely missing you with the water he sends splashing as he does. But you don’t question him, your legs swinging back and forth in the water. You watch the underwater lights distort in the ripples you make, distracted by the simple movements and your racing thoughts. When you hear him re-emerge, you turn to find him with two towels in hand. Your eyes widen and you frantically shake your head.
“I didn’t bring a bathing suit, Vernon.” And I am not getting into that pool with you in just my underwear.
He pulls something out from under one of the towels, and you recognize it as one of his favourite band tees that he’s had for years. He raises his eyebrows at you, eyes twinkling in a teasing challenge, and you narrow your eyes at him. The smile on his face briefly sends you reeling back — back to before that night last summer when everything changed. Back to when he was just your best friend who liked to tease you for fun, who brought you your favourite ice cream every movie night, who took you to your high school graduation dance even though you knew he would have rathered gouge his eyes out with a spoon.
Back to when you were in love with him, but he didn’t know yet.
“Fine,” you say. “I’ll get in.”
He grins, and your chest does a little flip-flop. You forcefully ignore it as you take the shirt from his outstretched hand. He turns around to give you privacy, and you keep your eyes on his turned back as you remove everything except your underwear and his shirt. Though he’s grown up now and wears things that fit him better — you had noticed the bomber jacket in his backseat, and the t-shirt he’s wearing that fits him just right — he used to love things that were three sizes too big. The old, worn shirt just brushes your thighs, but you don’t have time to think anymore about it when he moves to pull his own shirt up and over his head.
You watch the muscles in his back contract, and you swallow. Don’t go down this road again, you tell yourself. It’s just going to hurt like hell.
If you’re honest with yourself, you’re starting to wonder if you’d ever really strayed from that path in the first place.
Because when he turns back to you with raised eyebrows and a smile, when he pulls you with him by the hand, it hits you with as much force as the cool water you jump into. And when you resurface and your eyes find him already looking back at you, his hair sticking up every which way and water dripping from his lashes down onto his cheeks, it hits you again.
That you don’t know if there will ever be anyone else for you but him.
You turn away from him, running your hands through your hair, trying desperately to keep your cool. You feel like you’re being punched in the stomach, like that sharp pain you’d felt since last August had never left. You thought you were ready to see him again, and you had been so, so wrong.
You can feel all those months of mending, of trying desperately to get over your feelings for him so you could have him back in your life — you can feel them as they slip away.
“I’m sorry,” was all he’d said that night, and your heart had shattered into a thousand pieces. You could tell through blurry eyes that he was hurting, too, because he loved you, you knew he did. Just not like that. He hadn’t said anything else, even though it looked like he wanted to, and you just didn’t understand. You thought for sure that he felt the same, because he’d kissed you back, because you knew him just as well as he knew you.
And it really felt like you’d healed. Just an hour ago, you’d even been excited to see him again.
You will yourself to breathe.
���Hey. I’m sorry I pulled you in with me.”
You don’t respond.
“Are you okay?”
You don’t answer as his voice breaks through your racing thoughts, your back still turned to him.
“…Y/N?”
He sounds concerned, like he cares. You know he does — know that he always has. And it hurts.
You can feel the water moving behind you when you still don’t respond. You can feel it as he takes a step or two closer, and you can almost imagine the look on his face as he tries to figure out what he did wrong. You feel like you’ve been burned when he reaches for you, when his hand tries to find your arm to turn you back to him. You can hear his inhale when you flinch away, your skin on fire where his fingertips just barely brushed your shoulder.
He tries again, because he loves you. Because he loves you — but not like that. “Talk to me?”
Your eyes squeeze shut, and you take a deep breath. You know you have to face him in order to get through this, to leave here in one piece even if it’s by pretending. You have to. You don’t want him to know, don’t want him to know that you’re still the reason you can’t be close to him, that you still love him, that you probably never stopped.
But when you turn to find him right there, find him so close, when you see that his eyes are full of worry, you can’t find a single word. He looks beautiful in the dim blue light of the pool, and it makes your heart ache.
“Y/N.” Your name is nothing but a whispered breath as he says it, his eyes locked so intently on your face that you suddenly feel warm all over despite the slight chill of the water. His gaze pierces through you, and you watch as it travels across your face, down to your lips, where it lingers.
You’re not sure you’re breathing, not sure what to do, not sure how to possibly move on from what feels impossible. Why isn’t he moving away? Why is he so close?
“I…” He tries again, eyes still on your mouth. Then he snaps his gaze up again. “I’m… I’m really happy that you’re here.”
Your eyebrows furrow. “You…”
“I missed you.” He looks hesitant before he says it, but he says it anyway, and your breath catches when you hear the tender, soft tone of his voice. It makes your head spin. “I really missed you. So much.”
You take a steadying breath at the same time as he does. The air between you feels charged — charged with something you won’t let yourself name.
Then he’s stepping even closer, a hand lifting to your face, and you freeze. You can’t move — you don’t even know if you want to. You’re confused, but you don’t move, and all you can manage to say is a single word.
“Sol,” you caution.
He takes a deep breath in, and then he says, “You haven’t thought about it?”
His hand is gentle on your jaw, thumb tracing lines back and forth across your skin. You feel goosebumps everywhere he touches. Your eyes search his, trying desperately to understand. You hate that you’re finding him extra hard to read right now — now, when you need to know what he’s thinking more than ever.
“Thought about what?” Your voice is small, and you hate it.
Vernon’s other hand lifts to your face, tilting your chin up towards him. His eyes search yours as he speaks, his voice low. “Last summer.” He pauses. “Us.”
The words hit you like a truck.
“What the fuck, Vernon?” You finally manage. You can feel the tears begin to well up, and you pull his hands away from your face. “Don’t you dare.”
He takes a step back, eyebrows knit together. “I’m sorry.”
You stare at him incredulously, frustration bubbling to the surface the longer you look at him. “Don’t be an asshole.”
He doesn’t say anything else, and all you can hear is the water gently hitting against the side of the pool. You frustratedly tuck a lock of wet hair behind your ear before crossing your arms.
“Why would you say that to me?” You’re hurt, and he knows it.
“I just…” He searches your face for a moment before he breathes out, “I think about you all the time. I miss you all the time.”
You can feel angry tears pricking at the back of your eyelids. You blink them away rapidly as you spit out, “You were the one who kissed me back and then pretended like nothing happened. You—“
“Would you have gone?”
You blink when he interrupts you, and it takes you a second to try and understand what he means. You wrack your brain, trying to figure out what the fuck he’s talking about. “What?”
“Would you have gone to school there if I had told you I loved you last summer? Or would you have chosen somewhere closer?”
You’re absolutely dumbfounded as you process what he’s saying. You’re blinking away furious tears, mouth agape as you try and settle on something to say. “Was that your fucking choice to make?”
“I was trying to make it easier for you. It’s your dream school.”
You can’t believe what you’re hearing. “What the fuck? I was in love with you, Vernon!”
“I was in love with you, too!”
The silence is deafening. You stare at him with wide eyes, your heart threatening to beat out of your chest. You wonder if he can hear it. Then you squeeze your eyes shut, your hands lifting to cover your face as you try and regain your composure.
“I thought I was doing what was best for the both of us.”
His voice is quiet. You know he’s telling the truth. It hurts, but you know he’s being honest. That he thought he was doing the right thing.
“I thought that maybe the distance would make it a little easier,” he continues, voice carrying softly across the water in the space between you. “But it didn’t. Not for me.”
Moments pass, and you realize you’re shaking. Your hands stay covering your face as you take deep breaths, waiting until you’ve recovered enough to say, voice low, “I have never been more upset with you than I am right now.”
He’s quiet for a moment before he responds. “I know, and I deserve it. I’m sorry that I made that decision for you. I really am. I shouldn’t have done it.”
You nod after a minute, after you force yourself to breathe, letting your hands fall from your face. You can’t look at him, though, eyes instead focusing on your fingers that begin tracing patterns in the water at your sides. “Okay.”
“And I'm…” He trails off, and you wait. He takes so long that you look up to find him looking at you, waiting, and something in his eyes has you stuck there. He searches your face, and then he says, “I’m sorry that I made you think that I don’t love you back. Because of course I do.”
Your heartbeat has begun to roar in your ears again. “You do, present tense?”
Vernon freezes, eyes wide. He opens and closes his mouth a few times before he finally settles on something. “Shit. Sorry, fuck, I—”
“Is that a yes?”
He inhales sharply. “Yeah — yes. I don’t expect anything from you, though. I promise I’m not —“
“You are such a fucking idiot.”
He doesn’t hesitate. “I know. I know. I’m—”
“I spent so long figuring out how to put myself back together,” you say softly, and he cuts himself off. You can feel tears pricking at the back of your eyelids again. “Without you.”
Vernon’s shoulders sag, and he nods, looking down at the water. “Yeah.”
Your breath catches before you steady yourself and you say, “It’s literally always been you, Sol. Even though you’re a fucking idiot.”
His eyes are wide when they shoot back up to meet yours. You inhale a shaky breath, watching as he waits, unsure.
“It’s still you,” you add quietly, and you’re certain that you hear his breath catch.
“I’m in love with you,” he breathes out before you can say anything else. “I love you back. I did then, and I do now, and I’m sorry I didn’t say it before. I wanted to, I swear. I’m sorry that I hurt you. I’m…” He trails off, a hand running through his hair as he finishes, “I’m just really fucking sorry.”
“I believe you,” you say softly, because you do. You believe him, and you’re not sure your heart has ever beat this fast. Because he loves you — the same way that you love him. Vernon looks down at the water again, and you think you can see the faintest hint of a blush on his cheeks as he thinks. “Sol?”
Your soft voice makes him look up. He still looks uncertain, like he doesn’t know what he’s allowed to do.
“Come here?”
You’re in his arms so fast you can barely process. He’s hugging you so tight against his chest that you can feel the warmth of him through your wet t-shirt, and it sends shivers down your spine. He doesn’t say anything else as he holds you, and neither do you. Your arms are wound around his neck, and you can feel the way his nose nuzzles into the crook of your shoulder.
You pull back, your hands finding either side of his face. He blinks, slowly, taking in every part of you in the same way that you’re taking in every part of him. You brush away a stray drop of water that falls from his hair down onto his forehead, and you’re certain you’re dreaming. He’s so beautiful, a perfect juxtaposition of sharp edges and soft lines, so… Vernon.
And he’s gazing at you like you hung all the stars in the sky — because he loves you, in the same way that you love him.
For the second time in a year, you kiss him first.
A/N: thank you so much to everyone for all the love on the other fics so far :) Here’s the sixth of our Thirteen Valentines in honour of Bononie’s birthday.
Please please please reblog if you can to spread the word, and check out the Thirteen Valentines masterlist! If you want to be added to the taglist, send me a message :) Your kind comments and reblogs don’t go unnoticed, I promise.
Taglist: @waldau @wqnwoos @tae-bebe @gyuminusone@savventeen @eoieopda @minisugakoobies @wheeboo @lvlystars@darkypooo @christinewithluv @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @bella-l (Strikethrough means it wouldn’t let me tag you, sorry!)
#Vernon x reader#vernon angst#vernon fluff#vernon x you#seventeen x reader#seventeen x you#vernon imagine#seventeen imagine#seventeen angst#seventeen fluff#thirteenvalentines#my writing#chsfic
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ah well at least I have my dozens of fanfics to read and my family to call later
#currently reading: where the lonely ones go by chsfic and vsfic#BABY TIME. they are married and there's a little toddler and they take care of her and there's a ghost also its rly cute#I hope I have the energy to call...#god I wish I had an animal in my house#I don't want to talk just vibe#ficblogging
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Recent ATLA Fics I’ve Read
What is says on the tin, stories that I’ve read over the last month that I loved and wanted to share. Some of them are new, some old, some popular, some not but I’ve enjoyed them all and want to recommend them. As a heads up they’re either gen or Zukka.
In the Soft Light by CHSfic and VSfic
As the newly appointed cultural liaison to Northern Water Tribe, Zuko is the first Fire Nation Citizen to step foot inside the city's walls in nearly a century. He's determined to prove himself—to the Fire Lord and to his father—even if the Water Tribe's spirit-touched prince seems to want nothing to do with him. Moon Spirit Sokka, Zukka and Katara/Yue.
Healing Balm by burglar_bird
"Prince Zuko," Iroh began, but the prince wasn't having it. He stormed away and before he knew it he was in his quarters, flinging sparks from his fingers and hissing steam. When that passed, he aggressively lit his meditation candles and tried to calm down. It was difficult because unlike combat meditation came easily, which added insult to injury. Gentle flames licked the air and formed in his palms as well. They were warm and soothing, unlike how fire was supposed to be. Instead of stinging his skin with small burns, the flames numbed the scraps on his palms and the aches in his joints. He knew that by the time his meditation ended he would feel invigorated and new.
His heart burned with shame; no wonder father had discarded him. There was no greater disgrace than having a son who was a healer.
Zuko’s Evil Eye by exectutivedoughnut
Zuko is given a new chore to perform, which he does - to the best of his abilities. But just because he’s losing a fight with a needle doesn’t mean he’s blind (or at least, not blind-blind).
The Good Vanilla by Haircrescendo
Sokka’s beautiful friendship with Zuko doesn’t start with breaking Dad out of jail. That’s just what he tells people.Sokka’s beautiful friendship with Zuko started the day he realizes that he knows how to cook.Feat. breakup cake, an attempted assassination, and eating out of the pan like dirty heathens. Zukka
Blue by blacklipscurse
Iroh insists they create a new life and identity in Ba Sing Se. Zuko wants nothing more than to bide his time until his next opportunity to return home, until he realizes ‘Lee’ can get away with things Zuko never could.
Zuko dons the mantle of the Blue Spirit again only to lose his focus when the Avatar comes to the city. This time, however, his attention is drawn to the annoying Southern Tribe warrior. Zukka.
WitchofEndor literally everything by them.
I’m obsessed with While Mighty Oaks Do Fall and have read it no less than 3 times.
High Sage Kenji blesses Fire Prince Zuko with the resilience of the reed, who bends in the wind and never breaks. When he is done, Fire Prince Ozai narrows his eyes, seemingly displeased by this blessing. But Kenji does not speak for himself; he is only a vessel.
The newly-crowned Fire Lord Ozai offers his firstborn son to service in the temple. This turns out to be a catastrophic mistake.
But also Life in Eden
Her daughter is five years old when Ursa realises what she and Ozai have been doing to their children. By each choosing one to bestow with their approval, they’re pitting them against one another. Perhaps Ozai is doing it on purpose, but Ursa isn’t. She resolves to heal the damage she has done. In which Ursa tries to be a better parent to Azula, and it doesn’t change very much. And then, quite abruptly, it changes everything.
where the stars do not take sides
When Azula is nine, she becomes an only child. She hears the Fire Lord call for Zuko's life, and in the morning, her mother and brother are gone. Azula may be young, but she isn't naive. She knows what happened to them.
Which makes it all the more surprising when Azula tracks the Avatar down and fights his group of peasant friends, only to find herself staring into an eerily familiar face.
The Sweetheart Swindle
In which Zuko’s advisors won’t stop harassing him about suitable candidates for Fire Lady, and Zuko’s friends hatch an ingenious plan: pretend courtships.
illustrate the remnants of the life I used to live
Zuko's soul marks have been regularly burned away since before he knew what they meant. He knows that he cannot be loyal to his father and his nation while also being loyal to a soul family, so he doesn't look for them. Unfortunately, that means that he doesn't know when he's found them.
The Family You Choose by TunaFishChris
Some people are born with soulmarks. Zuko has them, but his grandfather burned them off because they "make you weak."
Team Avatar has a few things to say about that.
Roll of Thunder, Hear my Cry by orphan_account
(“You’re not sleeping,” Mai says softly.
“How’d you know?” Zuko asks.
To be honest, he’s kind of gotten to the point where he’s surprised that anyone can perceive him outside of his necessary functions- he exists solely to sit in council meetings and shoulder the blame for genocides and famines and the suffering of one-hundred years. Doesn’t he?)
The war is over, but the fallout is just beginning. And where lightning strikes, thunder is bound to follow.
Divergence of Destiny by Fernandidily_yo
This is his life now, here on this ship, serving tea with Uncle and the crew. Traveling the world and staying far, far away from the ongoing war.
The Jasmine Dragon is Zuko's home.
Meeting the Avatar does not change that.
It changes absolutely nothing.
(Until, inevitably, it does.)
this love burns so yellow (becoming orange and in it’s time, exploding) by meliebee
Ten months after Zuko is crowned at seventeen, he faces his first coup.
With Agni on Our Side by fanficreader5
After the fateful Agni Kai, instead of sending him off on a ship, Fire Lord Ozai decided to remove his son's title and relegate him to being part of the Palace staff.
Zuko's pretty sure he's going to go back to being Crown Prince any day now.
Just a few more days.
And then the Avatar and his companions are captured.
What We’re Given series by Haircresendo
Started out as a “What would happen if Zuko happened to rediscover sky bison while searching for the Avatar?” and turned into something more than that
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Have you ever read [Will We Last the Night] by CHSfic and VSfic? If so, what do you think of those kind of Zukka aus?
OH I think that one’s in my bookmarks to read! I’ll have to check it out.
In terms of AUs, are you referring to canon divergence? Or Zuko joining the Gaang early? I love those! They’re so much fun. I really love AUs where Zuko joins the Gaang in season 1 especially. Yeah yeah, it changes his entire arc, but consider this; a S1 Zuko dynamic with the Gaang is absolutely hilarious.
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Concierge Healer Services (Pt. 1 of 4)
Please enjoy part 1 of my attempt at a Drarry socmed AU, sans socmed, written for my beautiful wonderful friend, @oknowkiss. Thanks to @eveningstruggle and @dumbledoodlewriting for helping it come to life.
Links: Part 2, Part 3, Part 4
Featuring: himbo Auror Malfoy, in denial Healer Potter, ruthless Healer Granger, and slightly soft Auror Weasley.
Tropes: they were roommates, Harry is bad at feelings, angst with a happy ending.
TW: blood/bruising in the art, very light nsfw, referenced past trauma.
Warning: time means nothing, please ignore it.
PART 1
—Malfoy wishes Potter good luck on his first day 🥹
—Malfoy checks in on Potter
—Malfoy says, "If you're a bird, I'm a bird" 🦅
Updates every day for the next three days at 7pm EST. See you tomorrow!
#drarry#draco x harry#txt socmed au#oknowkiss#CHSfic#hp fanart#harry potter fanfiction#draco malfoy#harry potter#tw blood/bruising
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@glitterfreckly THANK YOU for the tag!
slow burn or love at first sight // fake dating or secret dating // enemies to lovers or best friends to lovers // oh no there’s only one bed or long-distance correspondence // hurt-comfort or amnesia // fantasy au or modern au // mutual pining or domestic bliss // smut or fluff // canon-compliant or fix-it // reincarnation or character death // one-shot or multi-chapter // kid fic or road trip fic // arranged marriage or accidental marriage // high school romance or middle aged romance // time travel or isolated together // neighbors or roommates // sci-fi au or magic au // body swap or gender bend // angst or crack // apocalyptic or mundane
tagging the Discord gang: @oldpotatoe @ta1k-less @agentcalliope @kahtara @turtlewritesthings @thestarsontheceiling @arcticpoefinn @sword-and-stars @hi-raethia @spookiestarts IF you’re interested, but also no pressure!
#this was so fun oml#oh no there’s only one bed is the FUNNIEST and best trope don't @ me#I've never really liked kid fic#the trope annoys me#I HATE high school AUs#I am legally not allowed to click smut over fluff#slow burn over any other trope any day#my ideal fic.... combines canon fix-it with enemies to best friends with slow burn with one bed with mutual pining WITH isolated together#and ofc#angst#JDGKGK#the new fic by CHSfic really hits all of those probably maybe IDK YET#but it's GOOD SO FAR#anyways#go ham#love you all
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Sokka’s hand was cupping his arm, thumb rubbing small circles across his wrist. Each soft brush sent another shiver straight to the core of him. The tilt of his lips burned through him. Sokka was kissing him, and he was smiling. Zuko could forget everything but this moment, if the universe let him, and he wouldn’t want for anything else.
Chapter 8, In the Soft Light by CHSfic ( @klabautermanns ) and VSfic ( @voidcenturyscholar )
i’m back with another moodboard, and this time not at midnight???? this one was hard to make because there were so many things i wanted to include, but in the end i chose those that stuck out to me- Sokka doing calculations about the stars in his mind, the letters, the scrolls and books that Zuko poured over with Yue, the ice and snow, and the blue parka Sokka gives Zuko. basically, this fic is beautiful and i love it very much and i hope everyone has read it
(click for quality <3)
#i couldn’t tag jenna but i hope this makes its way to you both 💖#a whole power writing duo#sokka#zuko#zukka#atla#avatar the last airbender#fic rec#moody zukosadragon ace
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hii !! i always enjoy your fic recs, can you give me some more maybe? 👉🏼👈🏼
hi thank you!! :D ofc ofc, i have a fic recs tag if u haven’t checked that one out already but here are some more i recently enjoyed:
closer than eternity by netrixie
this river runs to you by sundiscus
and they have escaped the weight of darkness by cosmicmilktea
2:08AM, softly by astronicht
build me no shrines by occultings
our love language by shinocchi
i‘ll have you and you‘ll have me by sundiscus
marital claims by yeolinski (this was so funny... plus the juniors <3)
where the lonely ones go by chsfic, vsfic
flowers boldly blossoming over withered grass by lilymaxwell
all the depths of me, real by northofallmusic
and here comes the summertime by ribena
this is a love song by brookelinegirl
new phone who‘s this? by uchuchi
OK i think this is enough have fun lol
#clearly i have no life#i couldn‘t remember if i mentioned some of these in the tag before but oh wellllll#anon#mail#fic recs
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Concierge Healer Services (Pt. 2 of 4)
Please enjoy part 2 of my attempt at a Drarry socmed AU, sans socmed, written for my beautiful wonderful friend, @oknowkiss. Thanks to @eveningstruggle and @dumbledoodlewriting for helping it come to life.
Links: Part 1, Part 3, Part 4
Featuring: himbo Auror Malfoy, in denial Healer Potter, ruthless Healer Granger, and slightly soft Auror Weasley.
Tropes: they were roommates, Harry is bad at feelings, angst with a happy ending.
TW: blood/bruising in the art, very light nsfw, referenced past trauma.
Warning: time means nothing, please ignore it.
PART 2
—Malfoy teaches Potter about thirst traps
—Someone is over cleaning up Harry's messes 😳
—Someone else is over cleaning up Malfoy's messes 😳
See you tomorrow at 7pm EST! Smooches 💛
#drarry#draco x harry#txt socmed au#oknowkiss#CHSfic#hp fanart#harry potter fanfiction#draco malfoy#harry potter#tw blood/bruising
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Concierge Healer Services (Pt. 3 of 4)
Please enjoy part 3 of my attempt at a Drarry socmed AU, sans socmed, written for my beautiful wonderful friend, @oknowkiss. Thanks to @eveningstruggle and @dumbledoodlewriting for helping it come to life.
Links: Part 1, Part 2, Part 4
Featuring: himbo Auror Malfoy, in denial Healer Potter, ruthless Healer Granger, and slightly soft Auror Weasley.
Tropes: they were roommates, Harry is bad at feelings, angst with a happy ending.
TW: blood/bruising in the art, very light nsfw, referenced past trauma.
Warning: time means nothing, please ignore it.
PART 3
—Ron checks in on Harry 🥹
—Auror Malfoy has never felt better 🤭
—Harry lets Ron know something came up 😏
—Time moves forward*, relationships don’t always.
* kindly ignore the date stamps that suggest otherwise 💛
Poor little bean 🥺. Final update tomorrow at 7pm EST 😮💨
#drarry#draco x harry#txt socmed au#oknowkiss#CHSfic#hp fanart#harry potter fanfiction#draco malfoy#harry potter
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Concierge Healer Services (Pt. 4 of 4)
Please enjoy the final part of my attempt at a Drarry socmed AU, sans socmed, written for my beautiful wonderful friend, @oknowkiss. Thanks to @eveningstruggle and @dumbledoodlewriting for helping it come to life.
Links: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3
Featuring: himbo Auror Malfoy, in denial Healer Potter, ruthless Healer Granger, and slightly soft Auror Weasley.
Tropes: they were roommates, Harry is bad at feelings, angst with a happy ending.
TW: blood/bruising in the art, very light nsfw, referenced past trauma.
Warning: time means nothing, please ignore it.
PART 4
—It’s been months, but Malfoy knows she's still mad about the giant's penis
—Ron is worried, reaches out to Malfoy and Hermione 🥺
—Ron is worried, reaches out to Harry and Hermione 🥺
—Malfoy's not speaking to you, Potter, he just wants you to know he's not speaking to you
—Epilogue, a few years later, and we’re back to last name basis 🥺
—FIN—
Thank you for reading this very silly thing. Hug your local drarry, they need it 😘
#drarry#draco x harry#txt socmed au#oknowkiss#CHSfic#hp fanart#harry potter fanfiction#draco malfoy#harry potter
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