Ayesha. Fanfiction blog. Archive of writing and recs. You can also find me on my main blog, prongsmydeer. Icon art by bevsi. Sidebar art by andythelemon. Navbar art by anxiouspineapple. Mobile header art by gin-draws.
For anyone who still checks out this blog, I wanted to let you know: This blog will not be used for new HP writing by me in the foreseeable future. I’d had a waning relationship with HP in the past few years in any case, but especially in light of JKR in 2020, I’m not inclined to continue creating content for it. Her comments, in tandem with my own experiences in fandom, make it so that continuing to create HP content would not bring any sense of satisfaction and comfort. I don’t intend to delete the blog, but I also do not intend to add that kind of content. I’ve gone back and forth about whether to make a post about it, but as I’ve received some very sweet comments on these works lately, I thought it worth mentioning for clarity.
I’ve met some wonderful people through this community, and I love and value what they have brought (and continue to bring) to my life. So, regardless of what I’m spending my time on, I’m still around this website. I also still write on AO3 here for other fandoms. I really do appreciate everyone who has supported my writing over the years.
And, because it bears mentioning in a conversation tied to JKR:
Stonewall (UK) has a list of Black-led LGBT organizations and a list of QTIPOC (Queer, Trans, and Intersex People of Colour)-led organizations, which seem like lovely ways to concretely support/engage with trans communities in the UK, and directly oppose the transmisogyny and racial inequity which is faced by real-life people. I also always encourage people to look at who is doing support work in their local community and see what supports/involvement organizations need and offer.
For me, I'd be awesome to keep as an archive, but maybe link to your other stuff in a pinned post for whoever wants to read your other stuff?
Thanks you for all the stories over the years, they were all *chef's kiss* You truly never had a bad track <3
Good to know!! Thank you so much, that’s very sweet of you. <3 It was really a growth experience all the way through.
Thank you for the suggestion! If this does remain an archive, I think there’s already an AO3 link in the current pinned post, but I can make an updated post/make it more visible and add Tumblr-based links too.
"No more hp writing left" but your second post is a jily fic??
Yeah, I realize how that may be confusing. These were the last things I had in the drafts of this blog!
I haven’t written anything for HP in literal years. (The posts below are date marked, written in 2016 and 2017 respectively.) What I meant is that because I have nothing else in the drafts, and no intention to write anything new for HP, I wanted to ask if anyone had any opinions on what I did with this blog going forward.
Edit: I guess I did add to one of those drafts in 2020! But nothing since then, looool.
Because there’s no more HP writing left on this blog, and no intention to create more, I did want to ask y’all:
Do you
A) Prefer for this blog to be kept as an archive of all previous work?
Or
B) Want stories from other fandoms to be shared here? As I’ve noted, I still am writing, but not for HP. I’ve always kept it separate, but I could start reblogging or posting them here hahaha.
I dunno if you're still doing requests, but can you possibly do one where james is the one who bonds with lily's friends? we always see lily x marauders. thanks!
(Gentleman Friend - Unfinished - Dec 10, 2017)
James doesn’t consider himself a particularly easy person to accost.
Usually, in fact, he is the one doing the accosting, considering he has a map of his school’s inhabitants, an invisibility cloak, and transfiguration skills so advanced he’s managed to convince Argus Filch he was a suit of armor more than once. These advantages, on top of years of built-in wariness from having a group of clever and rambunctious roommates, have made him uniquely equipped to deal with being waylaid.
And yet, that’s exactly how he finds himself, as he exits the boy’s lavatory on the first floor to find Mary Macdonald, Emmeline Vance and Yasmin Shafiq all looking at him intently. All are James’s housemates, but not ones he expects to be waiting for him outside the toilets.
“Black said we’d find you here,” says Mary, nodding at him. “Oddly specific location actually, but we’ve learned not to ask.”
James has to wonder why they’d be looking for him at all. “Er, Lily’s not with me,” he says, ruffling his hair. “Obviously, not with me in the toilets, but in general. We were studying in the library earlier and she had to leave for her Charms Club meeting.”
“We know,” Emmeline replies solemnly. “That’s why we chose this time.”
“Oh,” says James faintly. That doesn’t bode well.
Yasmin eyes him as if he’s something she’s about to transfigure. “We’d like to have a chat.”
James’s eyebrows draw together. “Did I do something?”
Emmeline shakes her head. She looks at Mary, folding her arms. “I told you we should’ve done this in the common room. Lavatories are not good places to strike up a conversation.”
“Well, we’re not inside the loo, are we?” says Mary, with a level of exasperation which suggests they’ve had this argument several times today. She turns her attention to James, grinning. “And no, Potter, you didn’t do anything. Well, not yet anyway.”
“Not yet?” he echoes.
“It’s Lily that you’re doing,” supplies Yasmin, making James flush. “Going to do? Or going to date, in any case. You two fancy each other so much, it’s a wonder you’re not dating already.”
At this, Yasmin receives an elbow to the gut from Mary, who takes over. “What we’re trying to say, is that we’ve noticed that you and Lily seem… closer lately, yeah?”
James’s thoughts shift to how he and Lily spent half of Tuesday’s patrol snogging, and thinks this is a fair assessment. He nods, and Mary continues. “So, in the interest of supporting Lily, we want to get to know you better. We’d like to be friends.”
“Aren’t we friends already?” asks James sheepishly. “Vance, you’re on the Quidditch team with me. Shafiq, we share a subscription to Transfiguration Weekly. And Macdonald, you’re usually around the boys and me whenever Lily is.”
“And yet,” remarks Emmeline, “You still refer to all of us by our surnames.”
A crease appearing between his brows, James asks, “Is that… important? You call me ‘Potter’ too.”
All three girls look at James as if he is missing some key element to human sophistication.
“Come with us,” says Mary, tugging him along without waiting for an answer.
James wonders what it says about him that Mary’s demand makes him more nervous than full moons.
xx
“You really attract some odd people,” James tells Lily, when he finds her in the common room.
Lily grins at him. “I don’t need to bother following through with that punch line, do I?”
“It’s low-hanging fruit,” James agrees. He sets himself down by the fire, which just so happens to leave his back leaning on the arm of Lily’s chair. She reaches down to pat him on the head. “I was hanging out with your dorm mates.”
“Oh?”
“They seem to think we’re courting each other, and they wanted to ask about a dowry,” he remarks, trying not to smile. He fails when her fingers run through his hair.
Hand still rubbing soothing circles in his scalp, Lily says, “I hope you told them you wouldn’t go for any less than three goats and the House Cup.”
“It’s like you don’t even know me, Evans,” he replies, leaning into her touch. “The Quidditch Cup’s way more important than the House Cup.”
She tugs his hair a little, encouraging him to tilt his head up to look at her. “Your sense of sportsmanship didn’t keep it off the table?”
James shrugs, grinning. “My mother raised me to be an expert negotiator, not a referee.” He sighs in feigned disappointment. “It’s a moot point anyway. Negotiations broke down when they realized I can’t access the Potter haircare fortune ‘til I’m eighteen.”
With more sincerity than James expects, Lily tells him warmly, “I’d still give at least three Sickles and a Knut to be with you.”
Sliding his hand into his hair so he can thread their fingers together, he says, heart beating a little louder, “Take me to Hogsmeade and we’ll call it even.”
She laughs, pulling his hand up as if she were going to give him a handshake. “Deal.”
He’s never been particularly restful, always fidgeting and stretching, even during sleep. His eagerness to move even follows him into his dreams. It hasn’t changed since the war. When it isn’t unbounded energy keeping him on the verge of waking up, it’s unease.
Today, it is the latter.
It has been three days since Voldemort disappeared, and James hasn’t slept since.
In the immediate aftermath, when the relief of finding their family alive had given way to wondering what exactly happened, Lily thought, briefly, that it had been a miracle. That the prophecy lingering over their heads had finally come to fruition, and their son had won. But James knew better. For the first time in his life, he was unwilling to trust in the goodness of the world. It didn’t take long to figure out why.
James cannot find rest in a world where Sirius Black isn’t alive.
They had been asleep, of all things. Finally under the protection of the Fidelius, finally able to ease some of the heavy weight of the worry and fatigue from trying not to be found, they turned in early that night. They did not hear Sirius when he came to check on Harry, or his quiet refusals to move away from Harry’s cot.
“Love magic,” is Dumbledore’s explanation when they ask. His tone sounds almost reverent, and for some reason, that makes James want to hit him.
There is one fact they do know, from the information flooding from the other side. At some point, Regulus Black asked Voldemort to spare his brother’s life. Albus doesn’t have an answer for how an eighteen-year-old boy had risen high enough in the ranks to be able to make such a request of Lord Voldemort. Regulus is dead now, so it’s not as if they can ask him.
All the same, Sirius was given a choice. Step aside and let his godson be taken, or suffer the consequences of standing in the way.
He had not hesitated.
Only the Order mourns. All along the wizarding world, celebrations are breaking out because of the Dark Lord’s fall. No one seems to care that it was at the cost of someone’s life. While fireworks light up the London sky in the daytime, James Potter lowers his best friend into the ground.
Minerva McGonagall is crying. James’s mother is gone, and Walburga Black could care less, but Minerva McGonagall is crying and James cannot look at her without feeling as if he’s forced her son into the grave.
He’s supposed to speak, of course. James is supposed to speak because he’s Sirius’s family, and everyone is looking at him for answers. And he tries.
“Sirius Black,” he says, hoarsely. His throat is too tight to continue, so he begins again. “Was—” is all James manages before he can’t find words.
Lily takes over then, in spite of the tears on her own face. She holds James’s hand in her own and their baby on her hip, and she’s so much stronger than him, because she can bring herself to use past tense.
Exhaustion doesn’t make James any less aware, so it’s not hard to navigate people after the service, speaking when he’s supposed to and nodding when he’s not.
If he were to choose to speak to anyone, it would be Remus, but neither of them can look each other in the eye. Lily, beautiful and unbending to their brokenness, hands Harry over to James and takes Remus into her arms. James looks away when his shoulders begin to shake.
Harry fists his hand in James’s shirt, and James looks down at him. He is smiling, because he does not know any better. There is a scar on his forehead from three days ago, still fresh. It had been Harry’s crying that woke them up moments before the explosion.
His son’s life is a gift from Sirius which he will never be able to repay.
Lily’s hand on his shoulder guides him away from the crowds eventually, and he’s grateful. They walk to Bathilda’s house, their temporary home. It isn’t far, because Sirius has been buried in Godric’s Hollow next to the parents who loved him.
“He was supposed to come over today,” says James pointlessly. Lily knows this. She has been just as excited for it as he has. Still, he feels the need to fill the silence. The world is too quiet now.
Lily nods, eyes downcast. “I was going to make him a cake.”
Sirius Black will never be twenty-two, but they throw him a birthday party anyway.
There were three stories left in my drafts on this blog that for whatever reason, I didn’t want to part with. So, you’re getting them now, incomplete, but posted. Last vestiges of old writing. It is what it is! Hope you’re all well.
-
(Unfinished - Mar 27, 2016)
When James Potter is seventeen years old, Lily Evans decides he doesn’t know anything about Muggles.
“My family’s lived alongside Muggles for centuries,” he says, frowning.
Lily eyes him dubiously. “James, who is the Prime Minister?”
“Churchill?” he tries. He’s certain he’s seen the name in one of his textbooks.
By the way that Lily looks heavenward for patience, his answer is a bit out of date. She turns to his wardrobe and starts pulling articles of clothing out. “You’re due for a lesson, mate. We’re going to London.”
James protests that he’s been taking Muggle Studies since third year, so he must know something, but Lily promptly informs him that Muggle Studies is a rubbish class founded upon the same identity politics used to justify British colonialism. James blinks, and lets her hand him a t-shirt and jeans so he can change.
On their way down the stairs, James shouts to his mother that he will be going out and if his body is found she should send the Aurors after Lily Evans. His mum tells them to have a nice time.
When they arrive in London, James almost loses her in the crowd. At first he assumes this is normal, considering how many people live here compared to the countryside on which he was raised, but then he notes the shouting.
“Why is everyone yelling?” he asks Lily. She grabs onto his hand so that she can pull him through the sea of people.
She says something about “wage restraints” and “labour” but her explanation is lost in the din.
James thinks about how dangerous it is to have this many Muggles gathered out in public at once, when attacks have becoming bolder and no longer restrained to the night. Then he wonders how he could be a crowd full of people in a city he visits at least once a holiday and have no bloody clue what they’re protesting. Lily Evans is right; he knows nothing about Muggles.
A man hands James a pamphlet, and he figures out what they’re protesting comes down to money. It’s hard not to feel a bit stupid at that. Gold has never been an issue for his family, and though he’s always known that’s better-off than a number of his peers, the sheer number of protesters over something like this has taken him off-guard.
He looks at Lily and thinks about how money tends to follow old blood in wizarding Britain. The Blacks, the Malfoys, the Potters. Even as magically talented as they are, Remus and Lily will never have half so many doors open. Money is certainly not the cause of the divide, but perhaps it’s a symptom.
“Is the rest of this day designed to me feel like a prat as well?” James asks, raising his voice as he leans towards her.
Lily grins. “Yes.”
And in spite of his discomfort, James cannot help but return her smile. “Looking forward to it.”
When the Muggle law enforcement starts to disband the protest, Lily decides it is time for them to make their exit. She blends into the group with an ease James can only hope to mimic, and once she’s pulled him into a shop, she explains, “You don’t have any identification. Couldn’t risk your smarmy arse getting taken in by a policemen and having them deport you when they realize you don’t technically exist.”
“The only identification I need is in these jeans.” James smirks, tapping the wand in his pocket. He expects the sock to his arm that Lily delivers. “Besides, I exist. I reckon it’s all sort of the same government.”
Lily laughs. “Yeah, I see that going over well. ‘You see, Sergeant, we should all be one government, really.’ Combine that with being out at a union strike, you might as well be waving a red flag at their headquarters.”
Like before, James isn’t sure that he’s caught her whole meaning, but he laughs anyways, because he likes it when Lily does, and they’re standing in a record shop ducking the police. He turns his gaze to the albums, but his attention is still on Lily as he asks, “Is this how it feels all the time?”
She runs her hands over the cover art of a band he doesn’t recognize. “How what feels?”
“Like people are speaking in half-sentences,” he admits, giving her a side-long glance.
Catching on, Lily raises her eyebrows. “Sometimes. But it’s not really the same, is it?”
James flips a record over in his hands for want of something to keep him busy. “What d’you mean?”
“I’ve got to do both,” Lily says with a shrug. “I go to school and learn what it means to be a witch, but I come home and return to living like a Muggle. I can’t just ignore it like you can.”
Somehow, this feels like an insult. “I don’t try to ignore it.”
She shrugs again. “You don’t need to try.” Perhaps sensing that his hackles are raised, she adds, “I know you’re willing to learn. I wouldn’t have asked you to come out otherwise.”
He nudges her with his shoulder. “And here I thought you asked me here for the pleasure of my company.”
Lily finally meets his gaze directly. They pause, a quiet moment in a noisy shop. “There’s that too,” she agrees, and the moment passes.
James clears his throat and suggests they browse the shop in earnest. This, at least, is a subject in which he does not feel so lost. He’s listened to music like this with Remus, even has his own records, and music is not something so dissimilar across worlds. The words may be different, but the frustration is the same.
Lily buys a record for James that she declares “post-punk.” As she is pulling out the correct change, he comments, “I didn’t realize punk was dead. Sirius will be heart-broken.”
Very seriously, Lily tells him, “Punk will never die.”
The clerk chuckles as she hands over the record. “Tell that to PC Plod outside,” the girl says, and Lily laughs. The girl leans closer and lowers her voice. “You ought to come to our gig tonight. Me and my mates are playing down the road at half ten. You can bring your boyfriend,” she adds, with a side-long glance at James. He blushes.
Instead of correcting the girl, Lily tugs on James’s wrist and says over her shoulder, “I just might.”
There are a number of fics in the drafts of this blog that I started a few years ago, and no longer feel the inclination to finish. But there are still some pretty fun bits and bobs, so I’m going to throw them all up in one post if anyone is interested in some disjointed excerpts.
--
Dueling - Jan 27, 2014
James has his hands on her shoulders, and she is calculating how best to catapult him off of her body when his lips descend to kiss her thoroughly.
“James,” she protests, as they pause for a breath, “we’re supposed to be fighting.”
“Sorry,” he murmurs, but the grin on his face contradicts his apology.
Later, when they are about to leave, Lily says, “I think we should compartmentalize our situations.” She does not meet his eyes, choosing instead to rub nonexistent grease off of her wand by running it against her jeans.
“How so?”
“Well… as much as I like snogging you, I think that we should have… snogging times, and dueling times. So we can be efficient with, er, both,” It sounds oddly formal and for reasons Lily is unsure about, a flush has risen in her cheeks. She still refuses to look him in the face.
James tilts her chin up, a gleeful look on his face. “Lily Evans, are you asking me out?”
She splutters out an indignant protest but James just grins all the wider. “You are asking me out,” he says, leaning closer to get her to look at him directly. Her cheeks are hot as his hands move to either side of her face. “Yes.”
--
And There Was Only One Bed - Feb 2, 2014
“One of you can come up and sleep with me.” As all four boys seem to prepare themselves for a smarmy comment, she adds, “Don’t start, gits. You know what I mean.”
“If someone’s joining you, Wormtail’s out,” Sirius says, his eyes flicking to the boy in question, “he’s a kicker.” From his tone, it seems that Sirius has experienced this very quality one too many times.
Peter huffs indignantly. “Padfoot’s a prat, I kicked him out of a hammock one time—” He cuts himself off as he sees the black-haired boy fingering his wand. “Fine, I’m out.”
“I’m out, too,” Remus says with a sigh. “I roll about too much, I’m afraid. I’d be falling out of the bed anyway."
James does not say anything, but instead he and Sirius seem to communicate something with a glance between them. James gives Sirius a warning look, but Sirius simply grins and pats the wooden arms of the chair, saying, "I’m comfortable where I am,”
“C'mere, then,” Lily says to James, gesturing to the spot next to her. Shooting a loaded glance at his best mate, he sits down.
--
Pecker Parody - April 22, 2014
James Potter had a problem. This particular dilemma was approximately five feet tall, freckled, and had a habit of popping up at inopportune times.
This problem was his diddly-doo. His magical wanking stick, if you will. You see, while having a dingler the size of a broomstick was all well and good when he was a boy, due to the fact he could ride it around like a pogo stick, at the age of eighteen, it was a bit more troublesome.
The truth of the matter was that he wanted to put his party popper inside Lily’s cash register, but he didn’t know how to tell her.
--
Birth - March 15, 2015
“I can’t believe you just did that,” he says in awe. “Did you know you could do that?”
Brushing some of her hair out of her sweaty face, Lily laughs. “I’d had some time to get used to the idea, yeah.”
James looks back at the bundle in his arms, and then again at his wife. “You just pushed an entire person out of you. Our person. He’s not tiny, either. I mean, he is tiny, but only because he’s a baby. Otherwise, he’s quite a large thing to be exiting any orifice.”
“If we ever do this again, you can do that part,” she says leaning back against the pillows.
--
Grease AU - June 25, 2015
(Also posted here.)
“This is… ridiculous,” she murmurs against his lips.
James laughs. “It’s a little late to denounce snogging on the beach, Evans, since we’ve been doing it for the past few weeks.” As he speaks, he drops his mouth to her neck, smiling as her eyes flutter.
Lily pulls his face up by the chin to meet his gaze. “I meant this whole thing.” She gestures around them. “After what happened after the Defence O.W.L. at the end of last term, how can you find any of this normal? Everything was such a mess after. Hell, if we hadn’t both come to the same place this holiday, I’d still be stewing in it by September.”
“But we did,” says James, brushing his nose against hers. “We talked and we yelled and we talked more and then you threw yourself at me.”
He dodges her swat at him much too easily to satisfy her, but at her raised brow he makes an amendment. “Alright, so I may have done some of the throwing. I’m a Chaser. I need to hone my reflexes.”
“My point is, it doesn’t feel like you’re Potter on this beach,” Lily says, ruffling his hair pointedly. She smiles. “You’re just James.”
“Just James,” he repeats, adjusting so he lies beside her instead of half atop her. “You make it sound like I’m two different people.”
It is Lily’s turn to laugh. “Aren’t you? I can’t imagine this version of you hoisting someone up by their ankles.”
“Of course not,” says James immediately. “I’m wearing trunks. Where would I keep my wand?”
Lily is already giggling by the time James begins suggesting locations on his body that he might be hiding his wand, and by the end of his lewd list, she is nearly having a fit on the sand. When she catches her breath, she looks at him. “I know I don’t get to keep Just James forever,” she says, leaning on his arm. “But at least try to preserve the illusion for me when we get back to school by avoiding me.”
James is quiet for a moment, but when he speaks his voice is soft. “You’re being silly, Lily,” he tells her, pulling her closer. “This is who I am. Caring about your feelings, about anyone’s feelings, isn’t exclusive to this beach.”
She kisses him, slowly and deeply. “Try to remember saying that.”
James grins. “If I’m going to be reliving a memory from this holiday, I reckon I have to choose the night under the pier—”
Lily laughs, cutting him off with her lips. “Be quiet, James.”
--
Masquerade - Dec 16, 2015
“So you’re Muggle-born, then?” he says thoughtfully. She stiffens, and he hasten to add, “It doesn’t matter to me. I’m just trying to figure how that narrows down the options for who you are.”
She smiles, but then looks a little put-out. “That’s hardly fair, I don’t know anything about you.”
“Pureblood,” he tells her, kissing her neck.
“A pureblood that doesn’t care that I’m Muggle-born? That does narrow down the options.” Her fingers tug at his robe. “N.E.W.T. classes?”
He shakes his head, kissing her lips quickly. “Too easy. Do you play Quidditch?”
“No. Do you?”
After a moment of hesitation, he says, “Yes,” so she is quick to follow with a suspicious, “On a team or for leisure?”
He laughs. “Both.”
--
Problematic.jpg - March 29, 2016
“James Potter,” Lily says to Mary suddenly, “is my problematic fave.”
“Receipts, please,” says Mary, not looking up from her copy of Witch Weekly.
“Plus, he’s like, a pureblood. So he’s got the whole legacy of all that fucked-up culture.”
“But like, a lowkey pureblood. He’s 12% Muggle-born.”
--
Junks the Trash King: The Sequel - April 18, 2016
“I’ve met the Rubbish Man,” announces Lily upon entering her flat.
“Good, tell him we need a new recycling bin,” says Mary absently. “There’s a family of raccoon living in ours.”
“Not him, Junks.”
The name catches Mary’s attention. “The soulmate?” she asks, straightening up. “How was he?”
Lily drags herself over to their kitchen table and collapses into a seat. “Not named Junks, for one.” Lily holds up her palm for Mary to inspect. “Apparently this is supposed to say ‘James.’”
“Shame. I’d rather hoped to one day receive a wedding invitation inviting me to the marriage of Lily and Junks. Though I’d have to bin it for the wordplay, you understand.” Lily turns her hand so she can flip Mary the bird, but from the look in her eyes, her friend has already spotted something new. “Got his number already, did you?”
--
Baby Brain - June 15, 2016
“I think I'm pregnant,” says Lily, so quietly that James almost doesn't hear it.
“Oh.”
“Oh?” she repeats, turning over in bed to face him. “I tell you I might be up the spout and all I get is, ‘Oh?’”
James grins at her in the dark. “Would you have preferred ‘Blimey?’” He expects the pillow that's aimed at his face.
“James.”
“Yes, dear?”
“Would you be okay with it? If I am?” It's hard to see her eyes clearly with such little light, but James can hear in her tone that she's nervous.
“I... Yeah, I would,” says James, seeking out her hand. “You know I want kids with you. I mean, I might not have seen this starting so soon, but I think we're pretty great at improvising. Remember our wedding reception?”
Lily laughs. “Somehow I don't think using Dumbledore's hat to catch projectile vomit is the same thing as raising a child.”
“I think you'll find they're remarkably similar.”
She laughs again. “I'm trying to work myself into a worry, James, and you're making it very difficult.”
He leans over to kiss her on the cheek. “Sorry, dear. Feel free to treat our child as a sign of impending doom.”
Lily leans her head onto his shoulder. “We're nineteen, James.”
“Old enough to be married,” he replies, poking her with his ring finger.
“We don't know anything about children.”
James smiles. “Children don’t know anything either, so we’ll be on a level playing field.”
--
(ʘ‿ʘ)ノ✿ Hold My Flower - August 17, 2016
“Lily, no.”
She scoffs. “What do you mean, ‘Lily, no?’ I didn’t say anything.”
“Lily,” he says cheerfully, throwing an arm around her shoulder, “We have been married for forty-five years now—”
“Dating for eight months,” she corrects, holding back a smile.
James waves a hand dismissively. “So, in that time, I am confident that I’ve grown to recognize what your faces mean. And that face said, ‘I’m going to put frogspawn in his tea.’”
“I don’t carry around frogspawn, James.”
He looks at her dubiously. “But you’d find some, wouldn’t you?”
--
Countdown - October 31, 2016
“Padfoot gets back from his assignment tomorrow,” Lily tells him, eyes on their calendar.
James pauses in trying to convince his son of the merits of pureed beets. His eyes drift towards the day on the calendar circled in red. Lately, they’ve taken to marking their calendar with the events of their day, if only to make the days seem more distinct. August 27th: ‘At 3 o’clock, Harry said his first full sentence.’ September 12th: ‘At 6 in the morning, the cat brought James a present and left it in his mouth.’ Tomorrow, October 31st, is a rare date that marks the future.
“Good,” he says. “I was hoping he’d be back before his birthday.”
A small, hopeful smile blooms on her lips. “Perhaps we can finally give him a nice celebration. I know Moony is still underground, but Wormy said he’d stay close by. I could bake him a cake.”
“Cake!” says Harry, and James laughs. He takes advantage of his boy’s opened-mouth enthusiasm to give him a spoonful of beets. The look he receives is nothing short of betrayed.
Victorious and still chuckling, James turns back to his wife. “We can ask him to come by as soon as he’s home.”
--
Baby I’m Trying: The Sequel Pt. 1 - Jan 4, 2017
He wishes his mum were still around, but since she’s not, in his desperation, James consults his neighbour, Batty Bagshot. Though she’s had no children of her own, she’s looked after many of her nieces and nephews over the years, and James has never been more thankful to hear her drone on.
After his conversation with Bathilda, he comes home, arms laden with all the supplies she recommended he find. Sirius’s eyes are wide as James brings the load inside the flat. “Reckon you got enough?”
James slumps over to the floor and leans his head on the pram. “This stuff is only for the first six months,” he says, staring into space. “Do you know how many times a day a baby needs formula? D’you think McGonagall will let me take the baby to class?”
Sirius considers it. “McGonagall does let her cat into the lectures. Although,” he says, wrinkling his nose and holding the baby out to James, “she knows how to use a litter box.”
James wonders if it’s pathetic to google ‘How to change a nappy.’
--
Baby I’m Trying: The Sequel Pt. 2 - Jan 4, 2017
In three days, James has a paper documenting that the baby is one hundred percent, undeniably his. He hadn’t doubted that he was, but it’s something different to see it on paper. It makes the whole thing more real for him. He sets about telling the rest of his friends, and while they are as surprised as he is, they take it in stride and help him sort it out, as they’ve always done.
“What are you going to name him?” asks Remus.
“Wilberforce,” suggests Sirius, grinning.
James cracks a smile at that. “Maybe something unisex. Elvendork?”
“You’ll have no trouble calling out for him if you ever lose him,” says Peter fairly.
James laughs. The baby fusses a bit in his arms and he runs a hand over the dark mass of hair that is already on this boy’s head. “Could go with a family name,” James says thoughtfully.
“I’m going to take a moment to remind you that your father’s name was Fleamont,” says Remus.
He shakes his head. “My grandfather,” James says.
None of the boys know much about his grandfather, since he died while James was still in primary school, but Sirius lived with his parents for a time, and he knows James better than anyone else. So it is Sirius who asks, “Henry?”
“Harry,” corrects James. Maybe it’s a coincidence, but the baby stops squirming. “His name was Henry, but they called him Harry.”
“Harry Potter,” says Peter. “I like it.”
His son has a name. “Harry Potter,” James repeats quietly.
--
Ring Out - June 15, 2017
“Frank and Alice are engaged,” Sirius tells him as he slides a drink to James across the table.
James lifts the pint into the air. “Congratulations to them,” he says, and he means it. He knows many couples rushing to the altar these days, but Alice and Frank seem the best-suited for marriage of all of them. He takes a large swig of his firewhiskey.
Sirius raises an eyebrow. It takes no more than this movement for James to know what he will say next. Still, Sirius asks, “When are you going to ask her?”
“What, you reckon because everyone else we know is getting married, I ought to as well?” James asks, mirroring his friend's expression.
Sirius snorts. “No, I reckon that you're horrendously in love with Evans and want to ask her to be your wife.”
James takes another drink. “We're in the middle of a war, Padfoot.”
“Seems to be reason enough for everyone else,” Sirius counters, shrugging.
“Exactly," says James firmly. “I don't want Lily to marry me because she's afraid we're doing to die.”
Sirius pauses, reaching for his own firewhiskey. After a moment, he lowers his glass and shrugs once more. “We might.”
“We might not.” James retorts. He runs a hand through his hair. “I'd rather wait for her to be certain.”
“You're living together," Sirius says, and when James opens his mouth he shakes his head. “You say you live with me but you spend more time at Lily's than you do at ours.”
James chuckles. “So your concern is that we’re living in sin? Talk about glass houses, mate.”
I adore @gryffindormischief marauders/Lily friendships so much.
I am a huge fan of @lindsue and the magnetic way her words pull you into a story
I will constantly shout into the void about @magic-girl-in-a-muggle-worldJames and how clever he is in her fics, a true James if I do say so myself
If I want to laugh I plunder my way through @abby10fanfic little texting series
@thejilyship has had my heart since I stumbled onto the Hunger Games AU she wrote last year!
@women-inthe-sequel has a very poetic way with words that I quite enjoy
@floreatcastellumposts always manages to do Jily canon flawlessly and beautifully
So many others I read that make me happy: @where-the-stars-end @hiddenpolkadots @alrightginger @mollyraesly @feed-the-birdss @scaredofrobots @sunshinedaisieswindmills @prongsmydeer @shining-jul-of-hope @youreyesinstarsabove @blvnk-art
literal eons ago @october31st1981 had a prompt about head students not being able to date, eons ago i wrote two versions of the prompt and here’s the companion piece
_________
Of all the things for James to suddenly become stubborn and sanctimonious over, of all school rules he decided to consider applicable to him, he chose this. The insufferable prat decided to prove he was no longer self-interested in the one thing that could actually be selfish of him.
Lily wanted to kill him. Preferably in the same slow, torturous way he was killing her.
Life was easier when he was an annoying prick. Well, he still is, but somehow he’d become the annoying prick she fancied. Really, really fancied.
She hated him for it all. Hated him for his stupid, annoying laugh and his stupid, annoying charm and ability to keep her steady as the war burns stronger around them. His jokes are clever and best of all, no longer cruel. She keeps the letters and postcards he sent her over the summer tied with a ribbon in her trunk. She’s the first one he finds after bad Quidditch practices, he’s the only person she wants to impress nowadays, and their late night talks during rounds leave her buzzing.
It’s one of those late nights in the Common Room that finds them awake at this hour together. Rounds schedules litter the table with notes and edits about the prefects, an algorithm of schedules and characteristics the two of them have only just begun to hash out. James’ quill scratches across his parchment while Lily studies the Map a bit more, looking for any Slytherin out past curfew to note. They move in rhythm, go at the same pace, understand one another while working together without needing to explain themselves. Moments like these are peaceful, and above all else, right. Things make sense here.
Which is why James’ refusal to go out with her doesn’t make sense.
It’s been a week since Lily grabbed his hand after finding him out on the Pitch, a week since he brought her in closer, a week since she stood on tip-toes to reach his lips as he bent down, her fingers finally laced in the hair his hand can’t get enough of, and a week since he pulled away without explanation.
That means it’s been six days since he refused to look at her, five days since he could actually be in proximity of her, and four miserable days when he politely asked her to just forget about it all.
Four days of Lily trying, and failing, to get him to listen to her.
It’s late now, and they’re both exhausted in more ways than one, but Lily is nothing if not proud and stubborn, which makes for a dangerous combination. Keeping her eyes trained on James instead if the Map now, she tilts her head to the side, examining him curiously.
“You know we can’t ignore this, right?”
James, of course, tries to ignore her. Lily, of course, throws her quill at his head. He didn’t flinch, and Lily began to think that maybe now isn’t a good time if she can’t even make him smile when he shakes his head and chuckles softly, mumbling out, “Pathetic.”
“You’re the Chaser, not me.” Lily defended herself, but James was still pretending to be engrossed in the same schedule that he’d been working on for half an hour. “C’mon, James, I mean it. We have to talk.”
“We’re talking now, aren’t we?”
“About the kiss,” Lily hummed.
His quill stopped its scratching. “There was no kiss.”
“That’s my problem. Yours too, I wager.”
James sighed, running a hand through his hair, before he finally brought his attention from his homework to her. This earned him a pleased smile from Lily. He leaned back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest, and met her smile with a weary look.
Lily’s grin widened as she mentally ticked off “step one” in her battle plan. He quipped his eyebrow at her pleased grin, which Lily widened ever so wickedly as she sing-songed, “You like me.”
James remained unamused. “They didn’t give you all those O’s for nothing, now, did they?”
“And, as some cruel twist fate would have it, I like you .”
James tried to maintain the cool facade he’d put on, but she could see his lips twitch up in a smile. He was being stubborn for no clear reason, but he wasn’t unaffected. Lily knew what it must feel for him to hear that, to know that he’d finally grown on her… if James could affect her life as much as he could during the months she’s fancied him, she can only imagine what it’s been like for him to wait to hear those words voiced through more than looks and laughs and blushes. She holds her smile, feeling it soften, and he actually looks away from her with a blush, biting the edge of his lip. Lily’s heart swells with warmth, encouraged, wanting nothing more than to make him blush again, to make him smile and to show him in words as well as deeds just how much she likes him. After a moment he meets her eye again, his poker face glowing slightly from the redness in his cheeks.
That wasn’t enough, though. She needed James to actually engage in this conversation if any good were to come of it, which means that the game has begun. James could hold his cards near his chest as long as he wanted. Lily was ready to play her hand.
“So you can see my confusion here,” she continued, sitting primly in her seat, “as to why a perfectly capable and fit pair such as us isn’t living up to every fun potential we’ve got.”
“It’s just not that– you think I’m fit?”
“Annoyingly so.”
Again, a smile spread across his face, lighting up his hazel eyes in the way she adores before he seemed to remember himself, pulling it back down to a grimace. “It’s not that simple, Evans, and you know that.”
“I honestly don’t,” Lily shrugged, standing up and walking around the table to his side. James kept his eyes trained on her, calculating. “You fancy me, I fancy you. I’m not speaking in runes here.”
It’s odd seeing James this composed and reserved given that he wears his heart on his sleeve every other day. He follows her path along the table, sitting back in his chair as she stops at his side.
She wants to physically shake sense into him but settles on sitting herself on the table instead, propping herself up right in front of him, letting her skirt sit a little too high on her thigh. His eyes trace its hem before he glares up at her.
“You’re playing dirty.”
“Oh, I can play a lot dirtier than this if you’d like.”
James breathed out wearily, looking at the suddenly-interesting-ceiling rather than at her. “Can you not make this any harder than it has to be?”
“Come again? I can make a lot of things har—”
“Don’t.”
Pleased but slightly abashed, Lily pulled at her hem, uncrossed her legs, and slumped down a bit, more casual, more level with his eyeline in the chair. James relaxed too, staring up at her the same as he always does, eyes lit bright with an upward tug at his lips. She’s played the game well so far, and he’s a good sportsman if nothing else.
“What’s this about, really?” She asks, genuinely curious. She’s in no rush. The Common Room is empty, they have free period first in the morning. “Is there something I’m not seeing about trying to date you?”
Again, his smiles in such a boyish way it makes her heart melt, but this smile is as wistful as it is playful.
“Evans,” he asks, “Is it really so unbelievable that all I am trying to do is follow school code?”
She raised an eyebrow at him.
James simply shrugged. “I mean it.”
Lily stopped herself from rolling her eyes, but just barely. “That code that hasn’t been enforced in years. Everyone knows the Alice and Frank were shagging, and that was years ago. Nothing happened to them, you know.”
“Yeah, well,” James says, clearly unmoved by her excellent counterpoint to the rule forbidding romantic relationships between the two Head students for sake of school stability, “It wouldn’t make it right for us to ignore the rule as well.”
Lily’s head fell into her hands, shaking back and forth in disbelief.
“This is karma. This is a cruel, cruel joke for all the times I yelled at you to read a code book when I was made Prefect. Some hag heard me begging you to follow at least one school rule and cursed me— and this is what it looks like.”
James had the decency to laugh then, quiet and soft, a wonderful timbre that reverberated through her body.
“Stop laughing,” Lily shoved his shoulder in good humor. “You are mocking my very deep pain. That’s not the way to treat the girl you like.”
James’ expression suddenly turned serious again. “No, it isn’t. You’re right, Lily. I know you’re upset with me.” He sighed, suddenly old, weary. “Trust me, I find it harder and harder keep myself focused each day.”
The question, So why bother? died on her lips as she held him in her gaze, trying to understand what she couldn’t comprehend. Slowly, tentatively, James reached up with one hand to meet the one Lily had on his shoulder, holding it there.
He held her hand in his, wonderfully caring in the gesture. He closed his eyes and something in her nearly broke at this false surrender of his trust in her. She allowed the silence to pass over them in waves as they both indulged in the first touch they’d shared together since the non-kiss on the Pitch a week ago.
“I wouldn’t be pressing this point if I didn’t think it mattered, James,” Lily nearly whispered, hearing a tenderness she’d never heard in her own voice before. “But it matters more than anything else to me. You and us, right here and right now, is the most important thing in my life.”
James ruefully opened his eyes, staring intently at her as he never had before. He slowly pulled her hand and held it in his own, playing with it.
“You think I don’t know that?” He breathed out. “You don’t think I don’t agree, and that right here, right now isn’t tearing into me?”
“A mess of your own creation,” Lily cut out, almost unkindly. His confession came close to angering her, because if James agreed with her and still wasn’t doing anything, then she wasn’t sure she really knew him after all. She tried to tug her hand out from him, but he clasped it in his own, tight and desperate, keeping it in place. His eyes begged her to stay, to hear him out. Lily sighed.
“Out with it, James,” Lily commended gently. “If you’re going to be a giant bloody idiot about this, I need an actual explanation.”
“It wasn’t long ago when you could you couldn’t stand the thought of going out with me, let alone be near me,” he spoke to her hand, turning it over in his. “You ever think about how this happened?”
“All the time.” She watched him carefully, unsure of where this was going. “But it feels like a lifetime ago.”
“Not to me,” he said, looking up at her with intent, eyes heavy with weight she is unfamiliar with from him. “Not to me. Everyday I’m surprised I managed to pull my head out of my arse and get my act together. I owe you and Sirius a lot for that.”
She smiled. “Remind me to thank him later.”
He paused, gathering himself. “I’m not ready to risk everything. I’m not ready to rush in. Not when I’ve only just proven myself to Dumbledore, not when everything else seems so fragile.”
She didn’t need the gentle caress of his thumb on her hand to know exactly where he categorized her in this.
“I’m not fragile, James, and neither is what I feel, or else I’d be well done of you for making me wait like this.”
He regarded her with a careful gaze, trying to communicate something important to her. “Can you blame me?” He whispered, low, entranced. “Can you blame me for being afraid? For taking my time?”
His hand gripped hers again, tighter. “I can’t lose this chance, Lily. I can’t fail you now because I wasn’t careful.”
“You’re talking like you’re the only one here with fear or with doubts,” Lily spoke back, matching his low, soft tones. “Don’t make this decision without me. Don’t forget me in this noble quest you’ve undertaken without much thought for my needs.”
James narrowed his eyes and she could see a sign of real anger being quelled beneath his resolve to finish this conversation. Lily admired him, considering how often she’d walked out on him at the first chance during the days before whatever this was between them.
“That’s not fair,” he countered, the anger showing through enough to add an edge of sharpness to his rebuttal. “I’ve been thinking about nothing but your needs. I can’t stop thinking about what you need, what Sirius needs, what my parents need and what Remus and Peter and McGonagall and—“
“I don’t care about what they need,” Lily cut him off. “What do you need?”
She wanted him to say, You. What she heard instead was, “What I need doesn’t matter. I’m more concerned about you and Sirius and—“
“James. What do you need?”
His eyes said, You in the way they fell down to her lips, tracing them. In the way he took a small breath, steadying himself. His mouth said, “I need to know that the moment I kiss you isn’t the moment everything gets worse. People will talk, Lily. Not here at Hogwarts. Outside. Regular people and people who I never want knowing your name will have something to say about us. I need to know that I’m not killing us by kissing you.”
Lily didn’t speak for a long time, and neither did he. It was a strange feeling, wanting to escape from the truth and fear in his concern while being consigned to her fate in a calm, accepting manner.
“I can’t give you that .”
“I know.”
Another beat of silence. James stared at the fire and she stared at it reflected in his glasses. Lily came close to indulging the melancholy of what waits for her outside of Hogwarts before her happier senses kicked in and she gave her own shuddering breath, releasing fear and breathing in the warmth and light she felt from the boy in front of her.
“I don’t want to focus on what we can’t change,” she started. “I’ll tell you what I need instead, so please, try to get it through your beautiful, wonderful, thick head. I need time, and not the kind you can give me. I need time to live because I think this war is going to kill me.” She didn’t let him interrupt, didn’t let him try to sell a lie about what happens to Muggleborns like her nowadays. “I need time I can’t have, so I need to at least live a bit before I go. I’m not fragile, James. I’m just mortal.
“So,” Lily quipped with some air of finality. “We can carry on, wasting time and ignoring whatever mess we’ve got going on, or–” she made sure to deliver this with the most James-like, devil-may-care-smirk she could manage, “–or we could just accept reality and bang on this table.”
She didn’t look back at James when she stood straight, fussing out the wrinkles of her skirt to shift it back and forth. One doesn’t look back at explosions they’ve caused, no matter how tempting. Lily took a few deliberate steps forward, towards the stairwell to the Dormitories, when her effort paid off.
She’d nearly made it to the stairs when she hears the chair scrape behind her, can practically feel James’ eyes on her back when she spins to claim her victory, satisfied smirk on her face–
When she’s struck silent first by the blazing look in his eye, and next by his mouth on hers, desperate and greedy, his hands cupping her face for more contact, better access. The shock wears off fairly quickly, and she’s kissing him back, fingers curling delightfully in the mop of hair at his neck, finally able to wander into territory they’ve been itching to explore for themselves. His hands wander, pulling her in, and it’s a while before he gathers himself enough to slow down, coaxing longer, slower kisses from her lips.
“That,” James says, haggard breath doing something wonderful to all of her as she smiles, big and warm, “That is a kiss worth talking about. That is a kiss worth risking it all for.”
Rules: It’s time to 💛 yourselves! Choose your 5 favourite works you created in the past year (fics, art, edits, etc.) and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you brought into the 🌍 in 2019. Tag as many writers/artists/etc. as you want (fan or original) so we can spread the 💛 and link each other to awesome works!
Tagged by @lizardcookie. Thank you for thinking of me! <3
2019 was a year without a lot of downtime, taking courses and new hobbies and volunteering then starting a new job. I mostly wrote things solely for events, and very few for HP at all! So I will rec the two HP pieces above the cut, and a couple of non-HP writings I did under a read more.
The Order of Affairs - This is what I will call the fic I wrote for James’s birthday! I’m very fond of it. It’s simple, and has the exact energy I want to portray in James and Lily’s relationship. A little bit overly intimate, a little bit stubborn and proud. No hesitation. Happy, easy to write drabble.
As Good As Gold - I like this one in its own way, despite not being my usual bag. It was a challenge to write something in half an hour, but it forced me to get creative and stretch some writing muscles! Writing about Harry as an older than a baby is a plain that I have yet to fully discover.
Borrowed, with Interest - One nice thing in writing for a smaller pairing is that a lot of simple tropes are novelties! This fic was something I’d never seen done for this pairing. And I like role swaps a lot. For this piece, there was a lot of thought about what was happening beyond what actually made it onto the page.
Operation Scary Date - This fic is a collaboration, with my writing and Sloane’s art. Let me tell you, it was an absolute blast to write. It mixes genres, and times, and pairings, and manages to feel complete without a conclusion. It is just pure, chaotic fun. The premise actually spun out from a movie watch, which is like... a vintage internet friendship move. Plus, it is a branch out from my usual pairing monogamy. (You know what that is? Growth.)
Wolf in Leaf’s Clothing - I know the AO3 publication date says 2020, but it actually went up on tumblr in 2019, for Halloween gift exchange! Am I betraying a trope bias here with all these chaotic magical curses? As with HP, I actually rarely ever write main gen for any fandom. But when I did this piece, I actually found it hilarious, because I was able to lean into my favourite group vibe of “you-know-this-is-bananas-behaviour-right-why-no-sir-this-is-Very-Normal.” If it takes a village, then you can take this one. The whole thing. Just take it somewhere.
I tag @fetchalgernon @ghostofbambifanfiction @bcdaily @sunshinedaisieswindmills and anyone else who would like to do it!
i love you (ain’t that the worst thing you ever heard?)
on ao3
(22k, failed friends with benefts)
He’s not really sure how it happens. He’s not really sure what cruel twist of fate had them run into each other in Diagon Alley one evening, unplanned. He was just killing time, because Sirius is visiting his uncle and his parents are traveling. She was just killing time, because Petunia doesn’t speak to her and Severus wants her dead, in a manner of speaking, and Mary’s been traveling abroad as an early graduation gift from her parents.
James vaguely remembers his mother saying something about idle minds being a dangerous thing.
They were both just killing time. It wasn’t supposed to lead to this, to her letting him talk to her, to her letting him ask her for a drink. It wasn’t supposed to lead to this, his body pressed against hers, her hands tangled in his hair pulling him closer, closer, closer.
This isn’t how James Potter wanted to kiss Lily Evans for the first time. In daydreams and idle fantasies in times spent drawing out her initials on his parchment, he pictured her arms flung happily round his neck after a glorious victory on the itch or some homework assignment gone wonderfully astray. In fact, he’d been spending his idle summer time trying to map out just how he could convince her to do any one of those things, hyper aware of how precious little time they have together in school for her to even consider fancying him the same way he fancied her.
He didn’t picture Lily wandering alone, he never imagined the dullness that seemed to overcome her usually vivacious eyes, never fantasized about the way she looked at him straight on and asked, “Want to do something stupid?”
He, apparently, was something stupid.
So one moment they’re in the Leaky Cauldron and the next they’re stumbling into the alley way and she’s tearing at his shirt buttons and he’s learning that his hands like running through her hair much, much more than just rustling his own. Her hands are burning the skin across his shoulders, lightly scratching at his back while she’s being supported by her hips and the press of his body against hers into the brick wall. It is entirely, entirely too fast for him, but then Lily Evans moans into his mouth and he gets that same thrill he’s felt when flying a broom towards the ground again and again and again and can’t will himself to stop.
They do stop, though. Eventually. He isn’t losing anymore of his dignity crammed between two crates of bottles for the pub. James gets some amount of satisfaction from the fact that she’s as out of breath as he is, then even more satisfaction that in her glazed eyes, he can see life there for the first time all evening.
He stares at her, completely unable to think, knowing that no thought could make any amount of sense of this. But all Lily Evans does is stare back at him, her bright eyes flickering across his face looking for something he doesn’t know how to give her. Her lips turn up in a friendly sort of way.
“Thanks,” is what she says, like all he did was help her with an essay. Then she untangled herself from him and was gone.
James has just professed his love for Sirius for the fifth time (that evening) when he hears a familiar chuckle behind him.
“You never could hold your drink, Potter.”
His eyes go wide. He whips around to face the newcomer, then turns back to Sirius.
“Did you invite her?” he demands. “I thought we were having a lad’s night!”
“We are, mate.” Sirius claps him on the shoulder. “Or we were, anyway.”
“Then what’s my ex-fiancée doing here?”
Sirius snorts. “You’re sloshed, and somebody’s got to get you home. I’m not interested in listening to your whinging about my sofa.”
“Well, it’s bloody uncomfortable, isn’t it?”
“It fits my aesthetic. But doesn’t matter, because you won’t be staying there. Up you go.” He tugs James to his feet and steers him towards Lily.
The bartender raises a bushy eyebrow. “Handing your mate off to his ex when he’s off his trolley? Seems harsh.”
“Indeed!” James wobbles slightly and waves a finger in the air. “A betrayal of the highest order!”
“For Merlin’s sake!” Lily rolls her eyes and grins. “I’m only your ex-fiancée because we got married three weeks ago, you muppet.”
James gasps. “Lily Evans, you married a muppet?”
“In my defence, he’s quite handsome.” She’s smirking when she grabs his hand. “And it’s Lily Potter to you. Now come along.”
“Lily Potter,” James echoes, beaming. He gives Sirius a cheerful salute as his wife leads him from the pub. “I must be the luckiest muppet in the world.”
Consider this: Jily as a The Devil is a Part-Timer AU
James as Satan, the demon king who loses his powers upon entering the modern world and has to get a part-time job as a fast-food worker; assures everyone he’s going to defeat the hero but truly only ever mildly annoys her
Lily as the Hero destined to defeat him who works in a call-centre; constantly claiming to be watching for James’s mischief but really they’re mostly just hanging out and teaming up to protect their town/friends
Sirius as Alciel, James’s roommate and vassal who is essentially a house-husband but also his most trusted right-hand man
Remus as Suzuno, sent to investigate what’s happening between between the Hero and Devil, but ends up accidentally becoming part of their friend group
Peter as Lucifer, fallen angel, online shopper and certified shut-in
![#[thishouseisclean.jpg]](/tag/%5Bthishouseisclean.jpg%5D){kind=link}
