A/N: It’s still January 30th somewhere. In honor of Lily Evans, darling heroine of our hearts, on her birthday. I’m not really sure where this came from and I feel like it’s something I’m going to read over and really hate in the morning, but here it is anyway. Also, there are probably a million mistakes. Will fix them when it’s not 1:30 a.m.

            When Lily was seven, she was married to her sister Petunia beneath a half-dying oak tree in their small back garden wearing their father’s old dinner jacket and a dusty, black top hat.

            It was a beautiful day for a wedding, all sunlight and big, puffy clouds. The guests arrived promptly at noon, and were soon lined up in neat little rows, split on either side of the narrow aisle of summer-greened grass and dandelion weeds Petunia had meticulously constructed. The groom’s side (and Lily was, of course, the groom) consisted of an unkempt group of stuffed animals and the occasional doll whose hair could never quite lie flat. In contrast, a collection of pretty, pristine Barbie dolls filled the bride’s many pews, one shining, plastic face smiling as brightly as the next as the bride walked primly down the aisle to the sound of Lily’s diligent humming.

Read More

A/N: For various anons and others who are deserving of something new. Sorry about the delay and the 2348934 typos probably found below. I will fix them when I feel less lazy.

            The party was loud, crowded, and had lost any semblance of decency around the time the first years started drooping and the butterbeer began to burn as it went down. The wireless crooned an old Cauldron Cakes tune as the Gryffindors milled about the common room, talking, dancing, shouting, and occasionally climbing atop the furniture to profess a gargled speech or two before someone inevitably dragged them back down. The banner that hung above the fireplace had originally read, “Go, Go, Gryffindor!” in bright scarlet and gold, but at some point early on in the evening, “Poor, Poor, Gryffindor!” had replaced the previously encouraging exclamation and the less optimistic slogan had been flashing on a loop ever since.

            Standing at the back of the room, watching the scene enfold, James reckoned it certainly said something about the resiliency—or perhaps the alcoholism—of his fellow housemates that they could celebrate a loss as sensationally as they could a victory.

            At that moment, he would have given just about anything to be able to do the same.

Read More

For Sam—Sorry it was slightly delayed, and sorry that it turned a bit more complex than down-right fluffy, but I hope it still makes you smile. =)

—————————————————-

                For as long as she could remember, all she’d ever heard about was his hair.

                Everyone was enamoured with it. The mess. The tussle. The silky, sloppy strands, so dark and so everywhere and Merlin’s beard, if he couldn’t even manage to keep his hands out of it, how were the witches of Hogwarts meant to stand a chance? You’d think the boy didn’t have a face, that he was merely a wig on a stick figure, the way everyone went on and on about it. His hair was his crowning glory, and everyone ought to know it.

                But for her, it had never been about his hair. It was perfectly nice hair, of course, and one could certainly grow to appreciate it, but the first time she noticed him—really noticed him, the way her classmates had, the way he seemingly had her—it was because of his hands.

Read More

            She could feel him watching her again.

            Lily kept her eyes trained on the Potions book in front of her, skimming through the pages of ingredients but only registering about every fourth word or so. He stood at the bookshelf just behind her, absently picking books from the shelves but never keeping any one long enough to actually read. When she’d first heard the footsteps and felt the telltale prickling at the back of her neck, Lily hadn’t been able to resist turning her head. Their eyes had met for a brief second before his had darted away again, suddenly entirely consumed with the rather massive tomb in his hands.

            He’d been doing it a lot lately, the staring. At first Lily thought it was a fluke, that she was being self-involved or sensitive and clearly needed her head checked, but it had been weeks now and she had caught him at it far too many times to chalk things up to mere coincidence. For someone who strutted about the halls with such a slick, cavalier air about him, she wouldn’t exactly call him smooth. Then again, maybe it wasn’t about fluidity—Merlin only knew James Potter had never been subtle. Maybe he wanted her to notice.

            But for all the occasions that she’d caught him staring ever since they’d come back from summer hols, he’d never once said a word to her.

            James Potter, silent.

            She didn’t trust it.

            She knew what Sev would say, which is why she didn’t tell him about all this. She didn’t need to hear the scathing list of all of James Potter’s worst deeds and faults, or yet another diatribe about how worthless and asinine her male housemates were. She had four full years worth of that nonsense, and didn’t need to start off her fifth with more of the same. It wasn’t that she didn’t acknowledge that Sev had a few good points—and Merlin knew he of all people knew how rotten the lot of them could truly be—but objectivity had never been Severus’s strong suit, and Lily wasn’t so naive as to believe that the animosity and antagonism only went one way. Both sides were at fault, and the boy standing behind her was certainly no innocent. Still…

            Moving her head as slightly as possible, Lily shot Potter one more quick glance.

            She didn’t know what it was about him. The boy drove her absolutely mad in so many ways. He flaunted everything he shouldn’t and played down everything he should, and Lily could’ve sobbed at the blatant lost potential. He may not have spoken to her since the end of last term, but Lily wasn’t entirely certain that was a bad thing. More often than not, they ended up arguing. He was so pigheaded, so certain in the things he said and believed, and Lily would have admired that kind of conviction if he didn’t dedicate himself to all the wrong things. Still, he made her think and he made her wonder, and sometimes when he grinned—even when it was that cocky arse smirk of his—Lily’s stomach did odd things.

            The staring wasn’t helping.

            Lily was about to tilt her head back around and focus on her Potions book once more when Potter chose that exact moment to shoot her another glance. When their gazes caught and Potter instantly whipped back around to the shelves, Lily’s temper flared. She snapped her book closed with an angry clap and whirled on him.

            “What?” she demanded. “What the bloody hell is it?”

            Potter turned, blinking owlishly at her from behind his glasses.

            “Sorry?” he asked.

            “The staring!” Lily cried. “What’s with the staring? Every bloody time I turn around, there you are, looking at me! So what is it, hm? Is this some kind of prank? Are you just trying to get a rise out of me? Because if that’s it, congratulations, you’ve done it! “

            “I’m not trying to get a rise out of you,” he said.

            “Then what are you doing?”

            For a long moment, Potter didn’t do anything at all. Lily stood seething, validated in being the one to stare this time, but Potter gave her no satisfaction. It seemed an eternity before he finally closed his own book, carefully returned it to its proper place on the shelf, then turned around to face her. He crossed his arms over his chest and Lily felt for the first time what it was like to really be stared down by him, to have those damned piercing eyes giving her all of his attention. Without knowing quite why, she felt a flush begin to creep up her neck.

            “You cut your hair,” he finally said.

            Lily blinked. “Sorry?”

            “Your hair. It’s shorter now than it was last term.”

            “So?”

            “I like it.”

            Lily’s hand lifted almost instinctively to an errant strand of hair that had fallen out of its braid, a inevitable consequence of her shorter locks that she had indeed chopped over the summer. The blush that had started at her neck spread immediately to her cheeks, burning and bright and mortifying.

            Potter’s lips lifted into one of his trademark smirks.

            “S’later, Evans,” he said.

            Then he turned and exited the library, and Lily was the one left staring.

Art by astralsymphony, drabble by bcdaily

Art by astralsymphony, drabble by bcdaily

CONGRATULATIONS, ASHLEY!! =)

The moment Lily grabbed his broomstick and loudly pronounced that she wanted him to give her flying lessons, James knew something was wrong. Following silently behind her as she quickly made her way out of his house and across the grounds towards the fenced-in Quidditch pitch his father had had built for him when he was seven, James considered questioning her about it before deciding it’d be futile. If five months of dating Lily Evans had taught him anything, it was that this witch was not the sort to keep her irritation to herself. Whatever was wrong, whatever he’d done…though really, what had he done? All things considered, James reckoned the visit was actually going rather well. It had been Lily’s idea to visit a few days over Easter hols, and since she’d arrived yesterday morning, James hadn’t witnessed anything too catastrophic. But apparently catastrophe had struck somewhere in his wake, because Lily wasn’t striding across the grass with a speed unseen before because she was feeling jolly. So whatever the issue, James would listen to her complaints as proper boyfriends did and try to sort things out.

            He only wished that she wasn’t holding his prized Nimbus in her angry hands while he was doing it.

Read More

When they’d first gone public with their relationship, James had lost count of the number of suggestive quips he’d received about what a bad influence he’d be, and how terribly he’d corrupt her.

It made him grin, how little most people knew her.

“Just the morning,” she begged, twisting her fingers in the starched linen of his school shirt. It was just after breakfast and they were meant to be heading down to Potions, but Lily had pulled him off to the side of the Entrance Hall before they’d even reached the stairs, apparently set on an alternative route. “Two classes,” she said. “That’s all.”

“Not just any two classes—Potions and Transfiguration,” James corrected, catching her fingers against his chest. But he wasn’t quick enough—she’d already managed to pop the top button of his shirt out of its tight loophole. He narrowed his eyes at her. “You may be able to skive your way out of Slughorn’s wrath, but somehow I don’t think McGonagall will buy the ‘got lost on the way to lessons’ routine.”

“Don’t be such a bloody stodge,” she said, sneaking her fingers out from beneath his, but only so she could make quick work of his tie. The poorly knotted strip of cloth fell like silk from his neck. “What’s the worst she’ll do? Give us detention? Don’t you already have two of those this week?”

“Only one,” James defended, watching her skim the gold and maroon material between her fingers. Her arms lifted as she tied the bit of fabric up in her hair, the long ends trailing amidst the crimson curls before sweeping gently at the nape of her neck. Her hands moved instantly back to his shirt. James shook his head, sticking her with his most scolding look. “You’re trouble,” he muttered.

“One morning,” she tried again, shuffling forward until their bodies brushed. She raised herself on her toes, peppering brief kisses and saucy licks against his jaw line. “One…silly…insignificant…morning…”

She pulled only far enough away for him to see her fingers moving between them again. But instead of continuing to pop open his buttons, she stealthily went to work on her own. One. Two. Three…

He spotted the scanty bit of coral lace cupping her breasts and wondered why the bloody hell he was resisting. He argued faintly with the last of his moral gumption as her lips finally found his.

“Lessons—”

“Fuck lessons,” she whispered, then trailed her lips to his ear and murmured a similar phrase, with one, vital word change.

James expelled a sharp breath.

Dear Merlin, this girl was going to drive him mad.

But as they stumbled their way into the nearest empty classroom, James reckoned he didn’t really mind that.

Art by astralsymphony, drabble by bcdaily

crestas:

This is a James Potter and Lily Evans appreciation post.

Fanvideos: I’m Secretly Grateful, This Heart Beats, October 31, Lily + James, That Moment,  Everything, Chase Forever Down, If Love Can Kill, Misery

Fanfics: The Life and Times, Commentarius, Boyfriend, Before the Fawn, All Over Again,Wind and Waves, 24 Hours, Resolution, Prelude to Destiny, Obsessive Lily Disorder,Scribblings of a Red Head and a Quidditch Captain

Jily Blogs: toerrags, likejameslovelily, giantsquidlovetriangle, fuckyeahjily, lilylovesjames

Jily Graphic Makers: fairestcharming, katnips, jamesbloodypotter, jamespotterdidntstrut,mezjennifer, catnipmellark

Artists/Writers: anxiouspineapples, viria, julvett, burdge, itatemyhand, bcdaily,astralsymphony

Fanmixes: Doe & Stag, Christmas with the Evans’s, I need some Fine Wine, Part Right, Half Wrong, Designs, Crossed Collective Hearts, The Moment You Said Yes, We Never Change,Brighter Than Sunshine, Yesterday You Just Smiled at Me, Why Should the Fire Die, Love, Love, Love

museme87:

Check out the community for some fabulous fanworks for the next two weeks, lovelies! Help us bring in the holiday season with Lily and James. And don’t forget to leave the authors and artists comments! 

astralsymphony:

“so fall down, I need you to trust me. go easy don’t rush me. help me out, why don’t you help me out” (maroon5)

In honor of our beloved OTP, who brought as much to each other’s lives as they’ve brought to ours. James&LilyPotter

[Oneshot, Lily/James]

Read More

nixievans:

“Christ,” he muttered, looking at me with far more astuteness than I was entirely comfortable with. “I knew you weren’t fond of change, Infallible, but I didn’t think it was this bad. You don’t have to be afraid of it.”

My mouth fell open, a noise of protest falling from my lips. “No,” I stuttered. “No, it’s not…I’m not afraid of change. It’s nothing to do with change. It has to do with—”

“It has everything to do with it!” James bit off, his voice snappish. He looked like he wanted to yell something else, but suddenly stopped himself. His face lost its fight and when he spoke next, his voice was much softer. “You’re not going to lose me,” he told me forcefully, lifting a hand to run it slowly through my hair, coming to rest at the nape of my neck. I tried to ignore the pleasant feel of it. “That’s the stupidest thing I ever heard. Being together wouldn’t change anything important, Lily. We’d still be the same two people doing the same mad things—except now we could do them together. What could possibly be wrong with that?”

I am officially dead.

Sometimes I forget I write these things. 

Sign up for the LilyJames_fest’s Season Greetings holiday exchange! Bring some L/J love into your holiday season! The more people who sign up, the more L/J goodness we all get. =)

**The deadline for participating is tomorrow (10/21)! Make sure to sign up! <3**

Sign up for the LilyJames_fest’s Season Greetings holiday exchange! Bring some L/J love into your holiday season! The more people who sign up, the more L/J goodness we all get. =)