Okay guys. I finally got about 80% of the the Rivals Fanworks Index done so here it is. All fanwork mentioned has received permission from their creators to be on this index. If you see yours on there and don’t remember giving permission, please PM me. If you would like yours to be on there, also PM me.
This is a thank you to @kazliin (who has ruined my life, in a good way) and to everyone who’s contributed to the Rivals fandom.
they are two red-haired women, one pureblood and one muggleborn, but neither of them care because blood does not matter
(except that it does. except that this whole stupid war is about blood)
they are two red-haired women with the future of the wizarding world growing in their bellies
and this is how it goes
gideon and fabian prewett go into the ground that day
molly, the last remaining prewett, feels like she’s drowning
(and although she is now a weasley, she will always be a prewett)
arthur’s hand in hers reminds her that she is not alone (far from it, in fact), but it does not ease the pain, the grief of losing all that was left of her family in one fell swoop
there is a stream of endless platitudes and consolations, so repetitive and meaningless that they blend into one another
(and she feels awful for the ones she has offered in the past)
(sometimes words mean so little)
she tries to tune it all out. sometimes she mutters, ‘thank you,’ towards her feet, but mostly she is silent
‘when are you due?’
it is the only question that cuts through because it is so thoroughly unexpected, especially at a funeral
looking up, she meets a pair of brilliant green eyes, softened with sympathy in this moment
(but she knows just by looking at her that this woman can be hard, so hard and strong when she wants to be)
(and behind the woman stands a tall, bespectacled man with black hair, wilder and messier than hair really has a right to be, and she knows immediately that they are lily and james potter, who gideon and fabian talked about because of how bright and brave and in love they are)
when she does not answer, lily tries again, ‘you are pregnant, right? this isn’t some awful, social faux pas where i’ve asked a woman if she’s pregnant when she’s not, right?’
james sniggers and lily elbows him in the stomach
(and she wonders about these two, clearly so young, too young, for war and for a baby and for merlin knows what else might be coming)
(but she sees the way he holds her hand reverently, and the way she looks up at him reproachfully, her eyes betraying her amusement and embarrassment, and how he smiles and she smiles back and molly may as well not be there because they are so in love and damn the war)
‘march,’ she eventually answers and the anxiety in lily’s face melts away
then molly casts her eyes downwards and smiles
‘august,’ she answers, glowing like only a woman who is creating life can
lily’s hand skims across her stomach, the instinctual action of a woman whose belly is full of baby
(and molly would know, she has patted her own belly too many times to count)
‘well, i guess our children will be going to hogwarts together, then,’ molly muses aloud
‘maybe they’ll be best friends,’ lily smirks
and, for a moment, molly feels lighter because it is so reassuring to talk about the future in this way, to think about her children growing up in a world where they’re safe and happy and blood doesn’t matter and they can be whatever they choose to be
‘potter and weasley,’ james is staring dreamily at the sky before dropping his gaze back down and grinning widely
‘hogwarts won’t know what hit it.’
she never sees them again
her hands shake when she reads about them in the daily prophet
and she cries when she thinks about how they were bright and brave and so young
(too young and so in love)
(and now gone too soon)
she never forgets, but the memory does fade, the memory of meeting a vivacious couple on one of the worst days of her life and how they gave her hope for a future when the word future felt like taboo
and it doesn’t happen the way any of them had predicted, but it happens
because ron writes home in september 1991, talking about how he made friends with harry potter and how he stuffed himself silly on the hogwarts express because harry was generous and cool and being friends with him was easy and natural
so she thinks of lily and how she rubbed her belly, green eyes alight with hope
and she thinks of james and his cheeky grin and what he said that day
‘potter and weasley. hogwarts won’t know what hit it.’
My friends and I have been absolutely obsessed with @kazliin until my feet bleed and heart break! My friend actually drew this scene from when they first met right before Victor broke Yuuris heart for the first time. (Posting for her because she doesn’t have a tumblr)
Hi! Hope you’ll enjoy this short one shot. It’s a request based on the song “Somebody that I used to know” by Gotye. It’s only loosely inspired by it though, the song is despite its lyrics rather upbeat while I imagine this story to be set in a sadder atmosphere.
Plot: H and Y/N used to have a bond until they cut each other out of their lives.
Gorgeous picture isn’t mine.
Harry found himself unable to look away. All his eyes could see was me, just as if my frame was the magnet to his attention. It was as though I wasn’t surrounded by a mass of people in a barely lit room and thick, humid air. His gaze was only drawn to me because to him I was illuminated. The air around me glowed. I might as well have stood in an empty room or lain in his bed, his attention couldn’t have been on me any more.
Harry’s jaw tensed. The sweet taste of the soft-drink on his tongue and the loud music blasted through the big speakers would normally have his shoulders relaxed and his body moving along to the rhythm. He would be enjoying his night out with friends and colleagues. But this time he couldn’t. If anything Harry hadn’t ever been this tense whilst partying before. The tips of his fingers twitched, his lips were raw from his teeth pulling and biting into them and his hair was a mess.
All of which he truly could not understand. How was Harry’s mind so incapable of finding an escape from the worry and slight fear his body was tormented with? Ever since he’d noticed me singing along to the music and laughing with my head thrown back and dancing in the middle of the floor, his blood had turned to ice and his skin heated. His eyes followed the movements of my hips swinging, feet jumping and arms raising. The tip of his tongue pressed against his teeth when he noticed my exposed neck and collarbones and his skin prickled. Harry’s stomach turned with guilt because he really shouldn’t be giving me that kind of attention. I wasn’t his after all. Not even as a friend. Nothing.
Still, if only to make sure I was fine, his pupils continued to follow my every move and they narrowed when he noticed me stumble a little, losing my balance momentarily. It seemed as though I’d had one if not many drinks too much. He moved to get up and come to my aid before his head had even caught up with it to consciously make that decision and before it could tell him not to move. Harry didn’t know me. Not anymore, for the matter and it was no longer his job to come to my protection either.
And still, his hands reached out to carefully nudge people out of his way and his big feet moved quickly and steady in order to reach me faster. Harry was impatient and he couldn’t have said why. One of his friends even made the effort to call after him, truly surprised at his sudden movements, but went silent the moment he noticed who it was Harry’s gaze had found. He knew Harry hadn’t heard him, knew there was no reaching him where his head had gone.
There had once been a time when Harry and I would lose ourselves in the other. When the whole room could feel our connection as though an electric energy was caused by it. The house could have erupted into flames, the room flooded by water or the earth broken open - we wouldn’t have noticed. Not when our fingers touched the others skin, if only momentarily. We would have eyes only for the other, words meant for no one else to hear and in truth Harry missed it as much as I longed for those times to come back.
I turned around when I heard him say my name for the first time in over a year. My blood was frozen, my skin light on fire and my heart flattered in my chest as if it tried to fly away. In my hurry and desperation to see him I lost my balance once more and stumbled into his chest rather forcefully. My stomach dropped at the sight of his beautiful features and a smile forced itself onto my lips.
Harry. He visibly hadn’t changed at all and lost nothing of his beauty.
“Harry.” My voice was shaking but fierce, with no doubt in its tone at all.
He chuckled quietly with the softest smile on his face while his hands found my rips to rest on hesitantly. Though his hold was firm, it was a gesture meant to steady me, keep me from falling and getting hurt, but oh if it didn’t weaken my knees even further. And I fell. Metaphorically speaking.
“Hi,” he hummed, his face leant in so his lips were near my ear. I shuddered when his warm breath fanned my skin. His hands brought me closer to him. “Are you okay?”
“Yes,” I replied cheerfully, my arms raising to rest on top of his shoulders with a wide smile. The embarrassment I felt when my voice broke was over quickly and though Harry’s smile told me he’d noticed, it was alright. The kind expression he wore and the alcohol numbing my brain were relaxing me enough to not blush at the uncommon closeness between us.
Maybe the lack of a barrier between us had become something unfamiliar, but when my fingers found the back of his neck and his soft curls to play with, I felt at home. He was truly here, in my arms. The softness of his strands was too addictive to let go of again. I normally wouldn’t have ever dared to be handsy with him, which of course didn’t mean that I didn’t long to be. Touching your ex’s hair and embracing his shoulders after not having seen him in 14 months wasn’t exactly what was considered a great idea, was it?
But Harry wasn’t really any ex. We’d never been an exclusive couple, never went on a date or got around to be introduced to parents. Harry and I were… in the lack of a better word Friends with benefits. It started one night mostly as a half drunken mistake and then continued until our relationship had transformed into something more. We’d hook up occasionally when we were in need for relief, then when we were in need of a shoulder to lean on and then when we were in need to be near each other. Our feelings for each other heightened and grew in strength until when we were in public and somebody asked what we were, neither of us knew what to say anymore. The term friends didn’t suffice, fuck-buddies sounded too meaningless. So we avoided a label all together which was what had brought us to an end.
“Are you okay?” I asked him, trying to adapt a neutral tone. My brows knitted together and I observed his face closely, wanting to be sure he wouldn’t lie. Harry didn’t drink often, hardly ever got properly drunk. I feared he’d changed since we’d last spoken.
Harry nodded though his gaze darkened. Instinctively my hold on his locks tightened in fear he’d pull away.
“I’m good,” Harry muttered, coming closer once more so he could talk into my ear, “But I’ll be even better if you let me take you home.”
My stomach dropped and I let out a shocked gasp. He flinched when I shifted, almost tumbling once more and frowned at me trying to pull away.
“You sure are forward, aren’t you,” I joked half heartily, my voice doing a poor job at covering up the surprise.
Harry’s eyes widened, his head catching up to what he’d said.
“S'not what I mean!” Harry stressed, “M'not trying- Y/N you know m'not that sleazy. Was a stupid way of phrasing and-”
“Harry,” I laughed, “I know. Didn’t sound like you for a minute so I know you didn’t intend it.”
My hands ran down his shoulders and squeezed his arms. “But why do you want me to come with you?
The green of his orbs sparkled and my gaze dropped to the pink of his pillow lips. "Because I really miss you.”
His room looked nothing like I remembered. And that saddened me. The soft blue colored sheets, sheets I’d loved to sleep in due to their unbelievable softness had been replaced by plain white ones. Where once the stacks of books we used to read in to one another before falling asleep had been on his nightstand, was now a quartet of scented candles. I frowned and stepped closer. I’d kept up with what he’d been up to and had only rolled my eyes at his newly discovered obsession with candles, but now that I stood right in front of four my fingers twitched.
Orange. Lavender. Hibiscus. Almond.
“Is water okay? I can make you a tea if you want. Think I even got your favorite somewhere.”
Harry stood in the doorway, watching me with a mixed expression I found difficult to read. But I understood. It must have looked as strange to him as it felt for me, given that the last time I’d been in this exact bedroom we’d both been crying our hearts out.
“Water is fine,” I replied with a hesitant smile, “Thank you.”
His feet were slow when he approached me and the invitation to sit on his bed was spoked low. Any confidence Harry had shown back in the bar was lost, just like my bravery was wearing off with the remains of alcohol leaving my system. The more I sobered up, the stranger the whole situation became to me.
“Please, don’t get sick,” Harry requested quietly, whilst helping me sit down on his bed. I could only assume he was reading my pale cheeks and discomfort as a sign of too much alcohol in my blood. “Got new sheets.”
“I noticed.” The disappointment was evident in my voice and I forced a smile to cover it up, “And I’m alright.”
Why were the sheets gone? It was silly to feel nostalgic about them, but why hadn’t he kept the material we’d spent hours of sleeping under? Where we’d made plans, confessed dreams and caused giggles to fill the room? Had he thrown them away just like that and replaced them by silly blue ones? How could he?
“Where are they?”
“Who?” his face wore an expression of pure confusion.
I let my fingers touch the top of his mattress. It felt wrong. Not even half as soft as it used to be. “The sheets.”
Harry didn’t reply which was answer enough. I hissed and shook my head. My heart was heavy with a sudden sadness I couldn’t explain and knew was stupid. There was no reason for me to feel crushed over the loss of some blue material I hadn’t lain on in a long time. He’d made a decision I had no place being angry about.
Sensing my crushed feelings Harry shifted beside me, his arms ached to reach out and embrace me but his mind burned with questions he needed answers for.
“Why didn’t you ever call, Y/N?”
We weren’t avoiding the awkwardness, then. We wouldn’t dance around the uncomfortable feelings. My chest moved and my lungs filled with fresh air. One thing I appreciated about Harry was his bravery, one I never possessed. He wasn’t afraid of tackling the difficult conversations.
“I can’t remember how many nights I stayed up staring at my phone with hopes I could never fully let go of.”
“I needed space,” I explained weakly, “Needed to clear my head.”
We sat so close next to each other his knee brushed mine and though it was only a small touch, my eyes could not look away from it. His body heat easily radiated off of me, awakening every cell of my body and speeding up the rhythm of my heart. I wanted more, wanted to be reminded what it felt like to hold him right.
“Clear it from me?” Harry’s quiet voice was laced with sadness, “You shut me out of your life. As if you tried to make it like I’d never touched it.”
Contradicting his words, Harry’s hand found my thigh, giving it an entirely non sexual squeeze, one that let me know he wasn’t angry. My hand pressed on top of his and I looked up to meet his eyes.
“You know what I felt for you, Harry.”
He nodded. “Which is just why I don’t understand.”
It’d been him who’d broken us off. Well, whatever “us” had meant. His solo career had been in its beginnings and he knew he’d need to be free to travel for it, work an impossible amount of hours and be available to anyone always. Anyone, aside form me.
Going solo meant he was busy and that meant that any feelings for him I had developed, did not have any place. Harry cared for me, wanted me and desired to keep me close, but at the same time he knew that if he let us strengthen our bond even more, we would eventually suffer a heart break. Our connection wasn’t meant to be, not at that time anyway.
“I began to miss you so terribly the moment you closed the door behind you,” I breathed.
Watching him walk out of my apartment was a sight I knew I’d never forget. No matter how many promises of keeping in touch, staying friends and wanting to remain close had been made, I was sure we both knew they were void of true meaning.
Harry had touched my heart. How could I look into his eyes after having been rejected?
I whimpered when his body turned to face mine and shuddered when his hand fount my neck, gently turning my head so I looked up at him. Harry’s brows were knitted together while his eyes pleaded with mine. My lips parted and my head spun when my own palms found their place on his shoulders, only centimeters away from his collarbones. I yearned to touch his skin.
“But that doesn’t mean you had to cut me off like that,” he whispered.
“Your fear of perhaps not having enough time for me didn’t mean you had to deny us any chance either,” I countered, arching one eyebrow at him.
Relief overcame me when a smile pulled at the corner of his lips and I felt some of the tension in the room shift. “That is true, I suppose.”
His thumb gently caressed the skin of my cheek before trailing along my jaw. Harry shook his lovely head, making his slightly disheveled hair fall into his face. “And both happened despite that I loved you.”
There it was again. The buzz in the air. I moved further up to sit in a crossed legged position across from him, both of my hands still pressed flat to his chest and his eyes closed when the tips of my fingers dared finding the unbuttoned part of his shirt where his warm skin was accessible.
I hummed, a shy smile on my lips.
“You know,” I began in a whisper, “your choice of candles lets me hope there is no past tense to your feelings.”
His nose brushed my cheek and his mouth kissed my shoulder.
My voice shook as I went on: “They are, after all, the scent of the cookies I always made for you, the soap of mine you used to hate and the oil I used to massage your shoulders with when you were stressed.”
A low moan fell from his mouth at the memory and my eyes fell shut.
“And what’s the last scent for?” he asked.
My body was pushed back to lie flat on his mattress and I welcomed him with open arms who finally got to hold him tight again.
“It’s the smell of my hair,” I whispered into the shell of his ear, whimpering when his lips pressed warm kisses to the bare exposed skin of my collarbones. “My shampoo.”
“Maybe s'not in the past tense then,” Harry murmured, grunting when my legs found the familiar place around his hips, “Maybe I still love you.”
“That would be nice,” I gasped when he pressed himself closer against my skin and wanted to cry because it still wasn’t enough.
“Yes,” my hold tightened, “because I’m as in love with you as I was the day I told you for the first time.”
Hope you liked it! It’s the first story I posted since being officially 19! Ahh!! Love everyone of you who reads my stories, your support means so much. Thank you.
Summary: You’re antisocial and one who doesn’t like help from others, when a solo mission goes south, Bucky’s there to help you feel better.
Warnings: smut (just reader receiving oral and fingering), sexual tension
A/N: I was listening to Chains by Nick Jonas and then this idea came to me but I’m also thinking about doing a fic based on the song Chains bc I really like that song. I don’t have a plot for it yet, just smut and fluff, so if you have any ideas for what that fic could be about feel free to put it in the replies down below. Also, I wrote this in a different environment and I’m curious of my writing style or anything related has changed so I know where I write the best; that means feedback is more than welcome!
Rain plummeted from the grey clouds, making rhythmic noises as they shattered against the roof of T’Challa’s place, the mansion you had called home since the Avengers had split. It wasn’t like you weren’t used to living in such a large place, you had your own room back in the tower, but you weren’t used to all the people who worked along side the new King of Wakanda.
T’Challa had specialists called in to help Wanda learn to control her powers, to train in the air with Sam, create new arrows for Clint, make sure Scott didn’t hurt himself while using his suit; there was even a guy to work with Steve to teach him how to use the latest technology. Bucky joined in on the lessons every so often after he was unfrozen, but most of the time he kept to himself.
Bucky had his own team of specialists, working with his mind and trying to help him unscramble it. When he got his new arm, a gift from T’Challa, he spent time in the health center getting tests run. They had to make sure it wasn’t malfunctioning.
You, on the other hand, were always out shopping or doing solo missions. You hated being locked up in the mansion, surrounded by people you didn’t know or fully trust. T’Challa, and Steve, reassured you that they were trustworthy, but you were still weary.
Steve offered to go on the missions with you, but you always turned down his help. You could do them yourself, they weren’t anything too dangerous. They were just simple undercover missions and obtaining information, you could do them in your sleep.
When you weren’t out looking around Wakanda or going on missions, you were in T’Challa’s library. The only person you’d ever run into there was T’Challa himself or Wanda, so you were always safe from the others and the socialization.
I’m not dead!!!///// have been real busy– aah…//// I am sorry-…
I really enjoyed shipping my own Ain with Mochi. ///// AAAH I’M SHIPPING THEM SO HARD thanks to @erabu-san and @murieren, you two are the best, helping me with this ship and supporting it <333 Thank you!!♥
Musician levitate much as he wants, so he doesn’t need Mochi to hold him too tight~ <3
Okay listen up my USA and Canadian peeps! Here is what time you can expect the Until My Feet Bleed And My Heart Aches update to be by state/province. (It’s long) All times courtesy of google. I’m sure I got something wrong.
Your eyes first focus on him as he wanders into the bedroom, clothed in a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, a mug cupped in his hand while he shuffles closer to the bed.
He gives you a tender smile before placing the mug on the side table beside you. “Here’s some tea and a kiss.” He pleasantly informs you, his lips pressing to your forehead before he tucks a few strands of hair behind your ear.
“Thank you, but you need to get ready.” You sigh, prompting him of the award presentation he is attending tonight.
He has spent most the day making sure you are nice and warm, showered with many kisses and cuddles, completely disregarding the fact that he has an awards show to attend tonight.
He nods, acknowledging his duties that do not revolve around caring for you while you are ill. “I’m gettin’ ready. Do you need anything in the meantime?” He challenges as he steps towards the wardrobe extending his arms up while you admire his body.
“Go get ready.” You groan, acknowledging that he will procrastinate and proceed to take care of you, ultimately not getting himself ready for his prominent night that is ahead of him.
He is a sweetheart for wanting to make sure you are comfortable and okay but he does not need to be late for tonight.
He turns back around and meanders back towards the bed you have been lying in all day, a blanket embraced in his hand. He unravels the blanket and thoughtfully launches it over the bed to add a little more warmth for you.
To say the least, he’s astonishingly caring and considerate when it comes down to you being unwell. “Please, go get ready.” You sigh, cuddling yourself up to the softness of the blankets, feeling warm and cosy enough to fall asleep without him by your side. He leans down and kisses your forehead, finally giving in as he notices your somnolent eyes wanting to close.
You watch as he begins to take his shirt off, tiredly admiring every curve his body has, observing as he throws it towards the floor, heading towards the bathroom.
The last thing you remember before closing your eyes is the sound of the shower and his soft hums of a melody you have heard so many times before— your favourite harmony.
thank you for your patience & endless amount of support. thank you for being around as i go through the journey that is self love. no amount of words could ever do you justice. what i feel for you is so much more than that; it’s strong, it’s empowering, it’s real. i don’t think i’ll ever be able to express it the way that i want to, but maybe that’s the magic of it all. i think i find comfort in knowing that i have something that cannot even be put down on paper perfectly accurate. thank you for helping me learn how to help myself. thank you for all the nights you’ve stayed up comforting me when the thoughts running through my mind weren’t so pretty. i cannot even fathom how amazing you are and how lucky i am to have such an incredible life partner. you are the one i want to spend all of my days with - and even that alone excites me, i never thought i would be able to say that about anyone. thank you for your constant reassurance and being one hell of a listener. there’s nothing sweeter than consistency. i can assure you there’s no one else i’d rather share every detail of my life with. all of my favorite things become so much more enthralling once shared with you. i have never felt more safe and at peace in my entire life than i have with you. your words are gentle enough to stick with me. when i lack the motivation to get up some mornings, i think of the way you would encourage me. i think of the way you would kiss my forehead and smile at me and tell me how you’re proud that i’m still here. you would tell me that my feelings are valid & how you’ll be around no matter what. those words alone would be more than enough to make all the pessimism fade away. i’ve never really felt emotionally stable - it’s always been something i’ve had to work on, but that’s definitely improved since you’ve been around. thank you for loving me enough to allow me to embrace my independence yet love you more than anything at the same time. you have impacted my life in more ways than you’ll ever realize and i am endlessly grateful. i have learned so much from you in what seems like such a short period of time and i am so eager to continue. sometimes i struggle with writers block but you’re always right there to inspire me and get me back on my feet. thank you for being you. i am so lucky to love you and have the opportunity to grow with you. there’s not a day that goes by where i don’t recognize all the wonders that you are. i cannot wait for everything that life has in store for us. i love you.