In the spirit of Christmas, could we get a snippet of TFTDC? 👀🌲🥰❤️❤️❤️
No pressure!! Loved your newest fic as well. 💞
of course! and ty so much 🥰
i actually cannot believe it's been 2 years since i wrote JHF, where does the time go!!! 😭
this is actually from ch. 9 of TFTDC (july pt i), and it's from a plotline i'm very excited about 👀
“I met someone tonight,” she says hesitantly.
Fleamont raises a brow. “Oh? Who?”
“Lucy Avery,” Lily says.
Fleamont sets down his stack of dishes. “Oh,” he says again, but there’s something deeper running beneath it. His brow is furrowed slightly, but after a second he goes back to stacking. “I suppose you’re wondering why Effie and I invited her, considering the circumstances?”
“Lily Evans,” James says slowly, with a shake of his head, and her eyes widen imperceptibly, “how could I ever hold a grudge against you?” He’s smiling at her, brighter and brighter, like one and two and three wands illuminating one after the other.
surprise?
all credit to @clare-with-no-i for the picture of the hands from her penguin classics cover, it FLOORS me every time! and thank you again @kay-elle-cee for the help!
well, i started this for the great, wonderful @clare-with-no-i’s birthday last year (and also as a combination of two prompt’s from @efkgirldetective‘s summer of jily 2022!) and it is officially almost a year late…
let’s see if i can finish this extremely self-indulgent, illustrator-James, author-Lily who clings to self-control like a barnacle, high-powered best friends, co-worker duo buys a house in the countryside and then slowly implode from repressed feelings and heartbreak over the course of several years (also berry picking! and swimming in the ocean! and a cat named Eclair!) fic over the next week! (w caution set aside for unforeseen calamity ofc, but i’m optimistic)
little snippet below!
Spring
It’s an odd story, how Lily buys a house with her illustrator.
A hand brushes along the back of her head, warm and soft.
She jolts, then glances back. Feels the hand fall away.
James is standing there, chest still a bit sunburned from the beach. His fingers still hover slightly, before settling back at his side.
She stares up at him for a second, a silent question. Her instinct is to tense, to turn to stone, to demand recompense. She wouldn’t let just anyone touch her.
“Your clip was crooked,” he murmurs after a second.
A Thrill Divine, Down My Spine || Read on Ao3 || 2K Words
“Oh shove it, Potter. I’m just saying. You’re like…a really nice glass of Ogden’s Old,” she says, eyeing a bottle of the spirit and signaling to the barkeep.
A little lost for words, James stares at her. “How strong was that drink?”
“You know what I'm getting at — like a really good thing personified. Take a compliment Potter, God.” She turns on her stool to face him, sliding one of the firewhiskies his way.
Or: Two totally platonic friends get drinks after a rough day.
Happy Valentine's Day, friends! This fic came around because I listened to "You're The Top" from Anything Goes too many times 🙃