#jilymicrofics

Many thanks to this year's participating authors! (I tried to only tag you all once so Tumblr actually does the ping thing!) Everyone got their fics in on time for reveals, and we had no need for pinch hitters - that's serious success in our books!

Check Them Out:

You've ruined my life (By not being mine) by emmathecasualauthor for alpacasinsnow

Honey, Honey by Hydrangea_aspera for @siriuslychessi

Never Enough by @annabtg for @formerlympp

A Hostage Situation by mppmaraudergirl for MaryPictorSomnians

The autumn chill in the amber skies by @abihastastybeans for emmathecasualauthor

forays into organic chemistry by alpacasinsnow for Rebeccaseal

Scarlet Haze by @nodirectionhome--ao3 for @fiendishfyre

An Invitation to Mystery by @trinitydaydabbles for @tedwardremus

Where's the trophy? (He comes flying toward me) by TedwardRemus for @wearingaberetinparis

Five Days by @sophie-hatter-jenkins for abihastastybeans

Songbird by FiendishFyre for @apalapucian

Operation Love Languages by Rebeccaseal for AnnaBtG

I think we ought to live happily ever after by siriuslychessi for sophie_hatter_jenkins

happy bloody valentine's day (literally) by apalapucian for nodirectionhome

Pick Your Poison, Babe (I'm Poison Either Way) by ritaskeetered for Hydrangea_aspera

“I cannot believe the nerve of my sister!” Lily said, so preoccupied by the letter she’d been reading and rereading that she almost walked into three different people on her march through the common room. “Sometimes it’s hard to believe we are related at all.”

She slammed her bag onto the table, then began reciting in disgust, “After careful consideration, I believe it is better for everyone if you are not involved with the wedding so you do not draw unwanted attention to yourself—unwanted attention, how? By being related to the bride?”

“Whoa, Evans, take a breath.”

Lily’s eyes shot up from the letter, her cheeks going crimson. “You’re not Mary.”

“Astute observation,” James Potter replied, grinning. He was alone at the table, his transfiguration textbook open in front of him. “She ran upstairs to get her books. She should only be a moment.” He gestured to the seat across from him as he turned his attention back to his book.

This was new, them all studying together. It didn’t mean they were actually friends or anything though. It was just easier to tackle NEWT assignments as a group, that's all it was.

She folded the letter closed before slipping into the seat James had nodded toward. At least he didn’t seem keen to pretend to care...

“I’m sorry to hear about your letter,” James said suddenly, looking up at her. “Your sister sounds like a bitch. No offense.”

Lily opened her mouth to reply, paused, and then burst out laughing. “She is a bit of a bitch.”

“Oh, are we talking about Petunia now?” came Mary’s voice. “What’s she done now?”

Normally, Lily would’ve preferred to hold off on divulging more about her sister until she and Mary were alone. But when she gazed across the table at James, who was looking between the two of them as he twirled his quill between his fingers, she suddenly didn’t feel so embarrassed.

@jilymicrofics

“So you did go to university?”

Lily sighs and takes a fortifying sip of her cola which is unfortunately not spiked. Loosening her tongue with alcohol is in no one’s best interest right now. “Yes. Generally required before getting a  PhD.”

“Oh so similar to my MBA then?” After today, this bloke will cease to be called by any name other than Insufferable MBA Bloke. It is law. Also she was going to kill the rest of the Theatre Fun Club.

“Right - my Masters in International Studies would be similar to the process for your Masters in Business Administration. Then I completed my PhD - so Franny really isn’t coming?”

MBA grins in a way Lily knows he’s practiced in front of a mirror. It’s like he watched hours of tick ticks to discover his ‘attractive’ angles and somehow landed on the ultimate douche. “She had to leave at intermission. The sitter called. Gwen is sick.”

He’s still doing what he probably thinks is flirtatious smiling, an odd choice when talking about a five year old being ill. “Ah. And the rest? I asked them to clean up the eight top over in the corner.”

“Nah we won’t need it.” His brow flicks up and Lily really wants to ask if this normally works for him. It feels like it shouldn’t. She wants to hold an intervention with those who have fallen for this shtick. It’s awful.

She’s still searching for something to say, a way to blow off Caroline’s cousin without ruining Theatre Fan Club, when the pub door slams open and James Potter appears in a swirl of the snow that had been threatening to fall all afternoon and jingle bells. Literally. 

He’s wearing bells strung around his shoulders and sewn into his knit cap. He’s got a few mates with him, similarly festive, and his eyes are searching the bar, likely for a place to sit. But before he finds anything - his gaze lands on Lily.

Lily who looks like she’s on a bloody date. She may actually kill Theatre Club and not even be sorry. Quickly, she slips from her stool and pulls her drink with her. MBA tries to follow but she’s ignoring him as James stomps the snow from his boots. “Dr. Evans!”

“Professor Potter.”

“Oi I’m a PhD candidate,” James shoots back with a grin as he strides toward her and wraps her in a slightly awkward hug given the bells. Still he doesn’t release her until whispers in her ear, “Am I blowing a date or is this a hostage situation?”

Lily grips his sleeve and whispers back, “Bloody hell definitely hostage.”

“Not to worry Evans. I have many years of experience. Your evening is now in my hands.”

“That’s not very comforting,” Lily complains, though she’s definitely not upset about the turn of events. Not at all.

Trying to overcome writer's block, I bring you a @jilymicrofics! For @taylorswiftmicrofic | James and Lily | February Prompt Nº 12 - Heartbeat

The day outside was beautiful. June"s heat reflected upon the field making it impossible to refuse the invitation to emerge from beneath the covers and savor the morning.

From atop the Gryffindor tower, one could observe dozens of third-year students playing with ever-bashing boomerangs, whilst Mr. Filch reprimanded them, red as a tomato; on the other side of the courtyard, some girls read magazines in groups, while certain couples took advantage of the shade beneath the trees to spend time together—something that also deeply outraged Mr. Filch.

But Sirius, Peter, and Remus remained indoors, exasperated, attempting by every means to drag James out of the dormitory, yet he continued to resist, his face practically pressed against the window and his gaze fixed upon the smiling red-haired girl who walked by the lake, hand in hand with some boy from Ravenclaw.

He should be down there as well, he knew this. He should be enjoying himself, playing pranks, attracting considerable attention and, perhaps, teaching that ridiculous boy a well-deserved lesson. But nothing motivated him. Seeing such a clear image of Lily smiling romantically at someone else and thinking that it could be him there beside her, sometimes felt really painful.

So, he continued ignoring his friends, their mingled voices calling his name, the thunderous slamming of the door, the deafening silence of an empty room. Nothing seemed relevant. Only the image below, a constant reminder of the barriers he himself had assembled and which he himself would have to destroy if he wished to change anything.

The reflection consumed even more of his energy, whilst the scorching sun burned his body, fogging his spectacles and inducing faint sensations of delirium. More than once he thought he had seen Lily gazing up at him with a cruel look and a cutting smirk. Could it be possible? Could she be so perverse? Did she perhaps think of him as bulletproof? He needed her like a heartbeat and there she was, amusing herself with his suffering.

James stepped back, away from the window, fled from the ray of sunlight that insisted upon scorching his skin, released the air he had not realized he was holding, and only then became aware that his eyes were closed, squeezed shut, refusing to perceive anything else.

Alarmed, he rushed back to the window, only to find a breathtaking redhead seated alone at the lake's edge, her hands resting upon the grass, her face lifted toward the sun, and a peacefulness that in no way accorded with the earthquake that established itself within James's heart every time he thought of her.

Was he going mad? Could it all have been his foolish imagination playing tricks upon him? Might he have been jinxed? He was no longer confident about anything. But one thing was certain: for that girl, he would take all those risks.

The realization brought him an easy smile and, spinning on his feet, he seized his bag and set off running down the stairs. Going mad for Lily was worthwhile, but fighting for her, under that stunning summer sun, in the most idiotic way possible, was even more worth it.

(Read on AO3)

Lily did not consider herself a graceful flyer by any extension of the term. It'd been six years since she took those compulsory flying lessons in first year and just as long since she'd even thought about touching a broom. Now, her boyfriend James had convinced her to let him teach her the basics. 'It'll be fun,' he'd said. Read on AO3 or below the cut

(Warning this is silly and so very much inspired by The Princess Bride)

The black ship was drawing near.

Lily wasn't troubled by it - whoever was following them was the least of her concerns - but her captors were, and it gave her some satisfaction.

"He will catch us," squeaked the small beady-eyed man called Peter. Lily had learned all their names by now, since they weren't shy about it; it was a bad sign, but she tried not to think about it.

"We should be quicker," noted Sirius. Lily could tell he was swordsman of the group, quick and agile. "Remus knows this waters like no one, and our vessel is swifter."

Peter didn't seem convinced. He glanced at Lily like she was guilty of being hunted. "He must be after the princess too!"

"I'm not a princess," Lily said tiredly. They insisted on calling her that, even though she wasn't one: she wasn't married to the prince, and, if it were up to her, she wouldn't ever.

The only one she had ever wanted to marry had been lost to the sea long ao.

Only Sirius paid her any attention, and it was only to wink amusedly.

"Hey!" Called Remus from the ship's wheel. "We will need to dock. If we stay on open waters, he will outrun us."

"Take your sword!" Peter cried desperately. "The cannons—oh, I knew we should have gotten a ship with cannons—"

"It would be expensive and you didn't want to pay for it," Sirius reminded him. "Besides, if he wanted to attack us, he could have gotten a nice shot a few miles ago. I'm telling you, he is not looking to sink us."

"And I am telling you, he wants the princess!"

Sirius just shook his head. "The princess is safe with us—aren't you, Your Majesty?"

Lily didn't deign to reply. Sirius seemed the silliest of her captors, but he was also dangerous. Lily had tried to fight him, using the same sword movements that James had taught her ages ago — back when they were young and Lily thought they would stay together forever. Only even the comfort of this memory had left her; Sirius had beaten her so easily that it didn't as if she had ever learned how to fight.

James would beat him, she thought savagely, only to feel sad soon after. James had been lost at the sea, captured and killed by a pirate who left no survivor, years ago.

The ship docked heavily; the water was rough there. Sirius approached her carefully, holding his dagger. "Now, I'm gonna cut you free so you can leave the boat, but don't try to run, okay? If you trip, Remus will have to carry you, and he's already done a lot of work trying to get us safe here."

Lily just glared at him. It was a bold request of her captors to ask her to be nice to them.

"Too bad neither of you were thrown in the sea."

Sirius just chuckled. "We can swim, Your Highness, it would be no trouble."

"Speaking of trouble, that black ship is nearly upon here."

"Yeah, well, that would be one big trobule." Sirius cut her free. Lily massaged her hands. "For both of us, I'd say. Only one pirate sails under that color, and he leaves no survivors."

She nearly fell. "Which pirate?" She asked, mouth suddenly dry. If it were the same person who'd killed James...

rated G - 1.3k words - birthday fluff - written for @jilymicrofics January 30th prompt "narrative" (but then I went over 1k and also really only used the concept of a narrative 😁 @jilymicro-oops <3)

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“What’s this?” Lily glanced between James and the card he’d just conspicuously dropped onto her Transfiguration essay. 

He seemed to be…dancing, almost, the tips of his shoes tapping softly against the library’s stone floor as he hopped from one foot to the other. She noticed the absence of his fingers, usually fidgeting in one way or another, and realized he was holding both hands behind his back. “Just open it,” James told her, but Lily huffed in reply.

“I’m not falling for whatever little scheme—”

James rolled his head so far backwards Lily spontaneously thought of Nearly-Headless Nick. “Evans, please, when was the last time—?”

She sat up straighter in her chair. “Five weeks and three days.”

“What?” His shoulders fell and he’d stopped his footwork altogether. 

“The last time you pulled one of your pranks. That’s what you were going to ask me, hm? Well, it’s been five weeks and three days, which isn’t nearly long enough to build any sort of confidence in your so-called ‘Coming of Age Era’ — which, by the way, I really don’t think Remus explained that genre to you well enough.”

James shoved something small into his pocket and folded his arms across his chest, his shoulder muscles stretching the fabric of his button down ever so slightly. “Five weeks is a century, Evans, and the whole point of a Coming of Age story is for the main character to…you know, falter here and there. If I don’t slip up then what am I even maturing out of?”

Lily stared at him blankly for a moment, lips fallen apart. “See,” she blinked and shook her head once, “this is what I mean about Remus having explained it wrong.”

“How?” James demanded, repositioning his stance as though to literally stand his ground and restating, “I’m in my Coming of Age Era — I’m…maturing, growing up, becoming—” He stopped himself short.

She lifted a brow at him. “What? A man?” Lily snorted at the thought, prompting a few nearby students to turn their way. “Right, Potter, that’s not a Coming of Age story.”

James rolled his hand in the air, prompting her to continue. “Enlighten me, then.”

The vague memory of her unfinished Transfiguration essay flitted across the back of Lily’s mind, but some things were more important — winning an argument with James Potter chief among them. “A Coming of Age story is about something that happens to the main character which forces them to grow up, sometimes before they should have had to, often in a way that is true for all people, yet still heartbreaking. It’s about the loss of innocence — something I’m not sure you ever had in the first place,” she added with a sideways glance. “And, sure, growth and maturity are a part of it, but it’s deeper than just…choosing not to play so many stupid pranks.”

He seemed to consider this for a moment. “Who says I’m not maturing in deeper ways than that?” he asked, holding her gaze with a sincerity Lily hadn’t expected. 

She tried to swallow, but her mouth had gone dry. “Well—”

“Open the card, Evans.”