#tftdc 8

[theesteemedladydebourgh]

Hi Ange! If I’m not too late (or if you haven’t done this one yet)…hand 👀

hey kelsey! 🥰 there's a lot more of jily [redacted] in this chapter than i thought there would be tbh. i'm sure all of you will/won't enjoy that, depending on your persuasion 😂

Lily laughs, the sound slightly strained and pulls away. Her eyes are slightly red and her hands linger on his shoulders. “Right,” she says. “My mistake.”

Send me a word from TFTDC 8! 🥳 

[theesteemedladydebourgh]

Happy writing cave, lovely Ange, word ask - pain <3

hi hi 🥰

James’s heart riots, and the sickness mingles with care so strong it almost makes him ill. He wants to grab that agedness, the exhaustion in his friend, the years of pain, and crush it into nothing. He’ll do anything, trade anything, give up his own right arm—

Send me a word from TFTDC 8! 🥳

[theesteemedladydebourgh]

Breath

oh, this one is spoilery 👀

He wants to take a breath, but the room is suddenly strangled of all air. Evans does that to him—he’s yet to figure out why, and he dislikes it in an imprecise sort of way. Last year, he would’ve said he disliked her.

Send me a word from TFTDC 8! 🥳 

[theesteemedladydebourgh]

If the word asks are still available: sigh 💗

“Potter,” she sighs. Dry. “Do come in.”

Send me a word from TFTDC 8! 🥳

[theesteemedladydebourgh]

Word for the ask game, "feeling."

Can't wait for the update!!

A strange pull at that scar of their past. Another feeling, caught between shame and discomfort. 

Send me a word from TFTDC 8! 🥳

[theesteemedladydebourgh]

Hello! For the word ask game: gentle ❤️

Lily inhales, then her fingers twitch. She doesn’t set down the bottle, but her other hand comes out and rests on the couch cushion just above his shoulder. James’s throat is dry, he can’t swallow, or fucking move. He slowly leans his head back onto the cushions, wincing at the ache, then turns his head to the side. Her palm brushes gently against his face, and he hears her breath hitch.

Send me a word from TFTDC 8! 🥳