#uncertainwallflower

BETWEEN THE DESIRE AND THE SPASM Chapter 11: Wind's Singing

“…I thought you said you lived in a flat,” she said in an accusatory tone. “I do.” “This is not a flat.” He shook his head. His hair was militantly tamed; frame clad in trim black Auror robes that hung worshippingly from his shoulders and wallowed in his wake. It was early, though not so early that he hadn’t checked his watch multiple times during this rough-and-ready tour—next was the boiler room and small lavatory used mainly by guests, each found off the landing between the first and second floors. James could feel Lily’s eye-roll as she fleered: “So not a flat.”

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Between the Desire and the Spasm

A second-chance-romance Jily fic by @uncertainwallflower

Trains are arguably the centre of everything. The sinew of civilisation for muggles and wizards alike. They are where all walks of life converge. Congregate. In synchronised traversal. Shared agony inflicted by the piercing screech of metal on metal, bonding all patrons aboard a carriage. And outside. A passing glimpse of someone you thought you’d never see again. Trains. They change everything.

Rating: M AO3

Undercurrent

A Hogwarts-angst Jily fic by @howluckydoyouhavetobe

It’s Sirius’s 17th birthday, and his only wish is for the Gryffindor Chaser to kiss the Gryffindor redhead. // Lily goes out someone who's not James, and James is seething. Lily seems to care more about if James noticed than about her actual date. Remus is caught in between it all. // Takes place from October 31st, 1976 - November 6th, 1976.

Rating: T AO3

Encounters of the Future Sort

A time travel Jily, Wolfstar and Hinny fic by @calmlyerratic

AU & headcanon-oriented time travel. A freak cauldron explosion leads the Marauders, Lily, and Sev hurtling forward into the future where they come into contact with Harry and friends during their 5th Year at Hogwarts. Alternating POV's. Anything is possible. Lots of silly shenanigans, but also an emotional rollercoaster. ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ Harry held his breath. The following fraction of a moment felt like a heartbeat split with an eternity—unstable enough to simultaneously rattle and soothe the collective consciousness. A boy of Harry's height and frame stepped through the portrait hole. He had round spectacles, a long nose, and dark hair that stuck up in all directions. "Wow!" Fred and George exclaimed in unison, looking between Harry and James. "You're identical!"

Rating: T AO3

These Dorms Were Once A Madhouse

Book I of We Will Be Remembered by writteninthewolfstar

My (long) fluffy, silly, emotional, intense, heart-wrenching take on the Marauders seven years at Hogwarts. (Year 1 alternates Remus and Lily POV and following that we alternate between several main characters.) (UPDATES EVERY SUNDAY AND WEDNESDAY!) (also fuck JKR)

Rating: M AO3

To Live Without a Heart

A James-without-Lily fic by @uncertainwallflower

James wasn’t home that night. It was the one decent thing Peter did, and James hated him for it.

Rating: M AO3

The Hawthorn Blowëth Sweetest

A medieval Jily fic by @uncertainwallflower

James, son to duty and fairness, is revered as the Young Lord of wintry Caledonia. Lilibet, daughter to curiosity and kindness, driven to silence and submissiveness by her vindictive stepmother and selfish stepsister, is desperate to gain freedom in whatever form it takes. Brought together by cruel intent and manipulated honour, the two grow to love each other despite their reservations and all that spit at their blessing.

@hprecfest Day 12: A WIP You're Following

Between the Desire and the Spasm by @uncertainwallflower

Ship: James/Lily Rating: Mature Relevant Tags: Alternate Universe—Modern with Magic, Slow Burn, Second Chances, Post-Hogwarts, Eventual Smut, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Fluff and Angst, Emotional Infidelity Warnings: N/A Word Count: 24,396* *WIP

Trains are arguably the centre of everything. The sinew of civilisation for muggles and wizards alike. They are where all walks of life converge. Congregate. In synchronised traversal. Shared agony inflicted by the piercing screech of metal on metal, bonding all patrons aboard a carriage. And outside. A passing glimpse of someone you thought you’d never see again. Trains. They change everything.

thanks for the tag @uncertainwallflower! here y'all go! the most recent line(s) I've written!

this is from this fic! 13k and counting! I am so VERY nervous about this fic because of the unexpectedly lovely & enthusiastic (& large!) response to that first snippet... 😅

“Ooh, is that to Dorcas?” Alice asked, peering over her shoulder. “Say hi from me.”

Lily added the greeting in post-script, then shoved the quill in her rucksack and the letter in her robe pocket.

“I’ve got to run to the Owlery,” she said to the general vicinity before snatching the slice of toast off of her plate and hastening from the hall.

She hurried up the steps two at a time so that she wouldn't be late for Study of Ancient Runes when she physically collided with someone.

“Whoops! Sorry, Evans,” James Potter steadied her by her shoulders.

“No, I’m sorry. I wasn’t looking where I was going.” Lily blushed.

“No dramas.”

“Could I just—” She pointed over his shoulder.

“Hm? Oh yeah, of course.”

“Thank you.”

They shuffled awkwardly past each other on the too-narrow staircase, so close that Lily caught a hint of sandalwood.

“Well, see you around I guess,” she said, waving goodbye before hurrying up the rest of the stairs towards the owlery.

“See you, Evans,” James called after her.

hello!! so this actually was me simply trying to overcome writer's block a few weeks ago by writing something small and silly. maybe part of something bigger? who knows!

“What did you do?” hissed Lily in her most venomous whisper, watching, horror-stricken, as Sirius and Peter totted her husband—one of his arms slung over a shoulder each—down the little pathway from the gate to the front door in which she stood. Amendment: her very drunk, very nearly unconscious, and very bald husband.

Remus, who made up the rear, shutting the gate—which he dwarfed with his long lean frame—behind him, shyly offered what to Lily was no explanation at all but to the boys—not men, boys—supporting James was funny enough to nearly drop him into the azaleas. “Sirius bet him his broom he couldn’t down a bottle of firewhisky then walk across the river and back.”

“On the ledge!” adding a guffawing, evidently also pissed, Sirius.

“Yes, on the ledge.”

A million and one thoughts raced through Lily’s mind. Did he really drink the whole bottle? What if he drowned? How fast was the river? He’s probably got alcohol poisoning! What was the spell charm to induce vomiting? Had they had dinner like they planned? What if he caught hyperthermia? Oh, god, he definitely had alcohol poisoning. Why are they so stupid? She gnawed at her bottom lip, flattening herself against the doorjamp to allow the giggling grown men into her hallway. They carried James through to the small loungeroom and dropped him on the small sofa, his long limbs sprawling out in his mindless state, then deposited themselves in various squashy spots about the room; and Lily picked her way around and over their legs to reach James, pressing a cool hand to his warm cheek.

He peeked a bleary eye open, probably only enough to gauge light and shadow. His glasses were bent and smeared with algae. He cracked a grin. “Lily.”

“Hello, love.”

His smile fell away and he frowned, closing his eyes again with a groan as he pressed his cheek into her palm. “It’s all his fault,” he said to no one and everyone, but probably meaning the one who proceeded to kick out at his foot. James muttered a groggy “Fuck off, Sirius” and Lily sighed, turning on the other three. She pulled her palm from James’s cheek—he protested with a whine, reaching blindly out for her—and set both hand on hips, brows raised.

“And what happened to his hair?”

James paused his search for his wife and reached instead for his scalp which sported a few uneven tufts and fair amount of short stubble, the result a poorly—or intoxicatedly—performed sheering charm.

Sirius and Peter fell into another fit of giggles and Remus sighed heavily. “That would be the other bet.”

“Lilibet!” A hush drew over the great hall. Her father was there, three bodies away, face chalk white. “My Lord Lockhart.” He bowed. Lilibet’s thrumming heart plummeted. “Please forgive my daughter, she did not intend to dishonour your guests.” Lilibet looked into the face of the lord he addressed and saw the man with the sunlight hair. He was gilded from head to toe by the richest of fabrics, finest of jewels and the heaviest livery collar. His face grew pinched and sour, but only momentarily, for the plainer man beside him, with his heavy brown furs, his own golden chain, and wild dark hair—dark hair identical to that of the boy’s, his son’s—looked down at her fearful round face, smiled kindly and asked: “Is it not a great honour to witness the sweet innocence of a child?”