78 more days of productivity. a break! i’m not sure how well-deserved it was but it was needed. i slept a long time, although i woke up in the night, could remember some dreams and finally woke up tired. i’m hoping my body still takes those 10hs and does something good with it bc i’m SICK. thanks, james. it’s light so far, at the back of my throat and in my chest, a headache in the morning that left me after a painkiller. so, as i was saying, apart from planning to kill james, today was a break day starting with my birthday lush spa treatment from my parents, finally. i chose Energy & “Coeur Vaillant” (with the thought in mind that, “à coeur vaillant rien n’est impossible” which i’m now thinking of getting tattooed) and it was really lovely. i love, love lush and i’m really considering handing my cv in instead of doing another year at the littles’ school. after that, hank pizza, and finishing Turn - two other lovely, lovely things, i met up with Carolaïne! we started talking about two-ish/three years ago during atb’s prime and never got the chance to see each other. though with all the long skype sessions we’ve done, it felt a bit like we had. she’s one of three baby gays i love and want to support so i did just that as much as i could irl, with cuddles on top since that’s the one thing really impossible with an ocean or 7hs buses between us. then we took an #ironic picture bc well, even supporting people into doing the best they can to get help and be healthy, i can still make fun of all the depression going on in between us. love you my little protégée marseillaise <3
62 more days of productivity. fighting my way back into not being a yawning mess at all hours of the day by starting the day with stretching/yoga, having a good breakfast, a healthy lunch, and then throwing it all away for cakes. i just love cakes. i managed to follow today’s class r well (it was also a lot more interesting) and could have cried getting back into my room after having cleaned it. i have s p a c e isn’t that an amazing concept? and abt the cakes, there’s a roommate dinner tonight and it’s perfect timing since we all eat so many veggies when we eat together. today’s good thing balance was the cashier at the prêt gifting me chips & orange juice coz their credit card machine was broken and i only had change for the sandwich (bless her, she was lovely), being seated next to rage-filled undergraduate student who cannot wait to not do her masters in cinema (i love her tho i do miss sitting next to Margot and commenting the classes together), rereading old fic stuff i’ve written two years ago and missing the writing seshs (soon, soon). cakes. did i mention the cakes? i really like the cakes.
88 more days of productivity. my little baby girl!! i spend half my time worried sick abt her health and the other half using her voice to get me through my own rough patches. seeing her live was super lovely, especially as we did the grown up thing of only coming 5 mins before the doors opened and didn’t have to wait in the cold. then we found a little good spot on the stairs, and clapped (out of rhythm for me) and sang back at her as loudly as we could (not loud for sick!james). then she had a taste of parisian stubborness as everyone screamed at her to come back despite her saying she didn’t like encores - she had already taken off her mic, too, and messed up the chords of One For The Road bc of how overwhelmed she was. sorry baby. despite me still being a bit sad she didn’t sing She, i had a really good time. and even a little cry during Sick of Losing Soulmates, cuddling jimmy and laughing together at the “you’re as fucked up as me” line, hah. not a productive uni day, but a gentle loving caring day. blessed.
93 days of productivity. uploading the pictures, i didn’t even remember taking the first one - that’s how long this day was. it was a rollercoaster, the kind kids go on that give you a little “oh there” but not really a screaming/laughing/crying one. to sum up, i was told that being out of order for the whole of first semester (aka having a depressive episode that lasted three months & took one full one to put myself back to working order) does mean i can’t really hope to get into a phd program this year. which then means one more year of being a masters student. which means, stagnation. which means, at some point this week*, i will feel like death&dying. other than this long and productive (and disappointing) meeting, i received adriene’s pretty&soft long sleeve shirt, and after this whole business at uni, met up with jonathan. we went to a lush, to la brasserie 2ème art and to hank pizza before i came home for a chat with colin whilst i was running my bath. i’m going to try my damn hardest not to fall down the rabbit hole bc of this. luckily, dodie is singing at my face on saturday and james is here in three days. also, we might finally be fixing the oven! there is some good in there.
90 more days of productivity. today i dropped off my child, by which i mean my computer, to hopefully have the keyboard repaired. as a reminder, in the last four years, this baby has been drowned twice (water then coffee) both times whilst i was writing my masters’ thesis. of course. apart from that and the feeling of wrongness that i’m left with, i had a lovely chat with my cousin whom i haven’t seen for more than a year now. i really want to visit her but time + money + the fact that it’s actually pouring in Toulouse next weekend don’t really make this a possibility. it’s a shame even tho it’s just pushed back to another time bc we were both really affected by elsa’s death and i do think it’d be lovely and healing for us to spend time mourning together. oh well. james is coming over tomorrow, with a cold, so i hate him a little bit. the last time i was sick lasted from november to late january. can’t wait to see what happens this time! i’m harming myself with all the tumeric, ginger, garlic and vitamin c i can find and praying for the best.
slughorn telling lily she belongs in slytherin and lily smirking as she tells him “green isn’t my colour” because everyone knows lily evans looks good in every colour
Can you do a drabble for Jily with number 23 or 29 I can't pick? Thank you!
“at it like bunnies”
#23: “The skirt is supposed to be short.”
modern muggle au <3
“The skirt is supposed to be this short.” Lily says, indignant.
Marlene just sniggers. “I didn’t say anything.”
“Your eyebrows did.” Lily inspects herself in the mirror one more time and then turns to face her friend and housemate.
“You look great, can we go now?” Marlene asks, finishing off the bottle of wine in her hand in one take.
“Is she ready?” Mary pops her head around the door, looking hopeful. Lily frowns at both of them. “Aw, don’t be like that Lils, you’ve been an hour.”
“We’re prinking!”
“No, you’re primping.” Marlene just manages to dodge the cushion Lily throws at her.
“Fine then, let’s go.” Lily grabs her bag and pulls Marlene up from the bed.
“She’s ready!” Mary yells as they head downstairs, and the responding cheer from the kitchen makes Lily frown again.
Marlene slings a comforting arm around her shoulder. “We love you really.”
If this was a normal night, Lily would have been ready a long time ago. As it stands though, it’s a fancy dress night and she has a plan. So she accepts the teasing from her friends as they do one last shot and then leave, heading towards the pub, because she knows it will all be worth it.
Except it’s not, not immediately anyway. The first pub, their usual, is packed full of other uni students in fancy dress, all in varying degrees of effort. A pack of boys have stretched their student budget to buy banana outfits whilst, next to them, two girls are wearing black dresses with wooden placards around their next, informing Lily they’ve been arrested for public disturbance. Tegan scowls when she sees them, because she too has opted for the jailbird look but, unlike them, has gone full out.
Mary, barely a ladybug with a red dress and some wings, orders the first round. It helps Lily ignore the fact that the reason she’s wearing her ridiculous get up isn’t in the pub. It does not help her ignore the two leering freshers, Thing 1 and Thing 2, who are clearly making bets about which one of them can get her number. Leering was to be expected though and, like the teasing, Lily takes it because it will be worth it, no one’s got the guts up yet to actually approach her and because in an outfit like hers, she can’t say she wouldn’t stare either.
It had been Marlene’s idea, and Lily had agreed both because she was desperate and because she’d known she’d look good. And she does. The skirt, as short as humanely possible without showing her arse, and the heels, too high for her own good, make her legs look endless. It’s a look that could kill.
It’s also a look, apparently, which boosts her alcohol tolerance and self assurance. So, by the time they reach a club, despite the several rounds of shots and jaeger bombs, she manages to get passed the bouncers without stumbling once. They dance for what feels like hours, Lily spinning with Mary and Tegan and almost breaking her ankle when she drops to the floor during Low with Gemma. Marlene vanishes and returns with a boy, yelling to the girls that he’s got a party at his house.
They go and Lily has almost forgotten why she is wearing what she’s wearing. Then she steps into the boy’s living room and she remembers.
He’s dancing on the other side of the room, with Sirius, of course, and he looks beautiful. Maybe it’s the disco lighting. Maybe it’s the leather jacket he’s wearing. Maybe it’s the fact that she’s in love with him. Whatever it is, he’s never looked fitter and Lily almost runs out of the room before he can get a chance to see her.
“What are you doing?” Mary runs after her, catching her arm just as she’s about to crash into a snogging couple. Who would have guessed that Luigi and Jesus would make such a good coupling.
“Reassessing.” Lily says.
Mary pushes a shot into her hand. “Liquid luck. You can do this, Evans, we all know you can.”
Lily tips back the shot and, with his nickname for her ringing in her ears, regains her confidence. “I can do this.”
“Yes!” Mary pushes her back in the direction of the living room and Lily smiles to herself, ready to conquer.
Sirius spots her first and a smile sneaks across his face, making her think he knows exactly what she’s doing. She gives him a wink and stops behind her reason for spending £20 on an outfit she might never wear again.
“Can bunnies hop in heels that high?” Sirius asks her and James, realising his best mate is speaking to someone else, turns around.
It’s as if he’s been punched in the stomach. His mouth drops open, his drink falls out of his hand and it’s all very dramatic. Lily smiles.
“Alright, Evans?” He chokes, eyes tearing over her body like he’ll never get another chance to see her.
“Actually, they call me the Easter Bunny.” She points at the fuzzy ears on her head.
Sirius, grinning, slaps James on the back, and leaves with a smug, “Good luck with this one, mate.”
“I-I…” James is blushing now and Lily reckons his costume, Danny Zuko, would be ashamed. “The Easter bunny doesn’t wear crop tops.”
“Have you met the Easter bunny?”
“I’m just hazarding a guess,” he seems to regained some of his motor skills because his mouth closes and he runs a hand through his hair. Lily realises it’s the first time she’s seen it actually obey hair gel, fashioned into a quiff.
“I’ll let him know you have a complaint about the uniform,” she shrugs.
“No!” He blushes again. “Not a complaint, I’m not complaining,” his eyes flick down to her legs, “no one’s complaining.”
Lily can feel herself blushing too, only his eyes having the power to make her feel nervous. Maybe the white crop top and leather skirt was too much. But it certainly got his attention. That was the aim.
Since the first week of freshers, they’ve bounced off of each other, bickering and debating and getting kicked out of a record number of pubs. Then it turned out they had chosen almost all of the same modules and their seminar room had almost gone up in flames. It had taken two terms, but the arguing soon became friendly and then appreciative and then, not that either or them realised or would admit to it, flirtatious. Then Lily had gone and fallen in love with him and it had gone tits up. Mainly because he wasn’t in love with her back. Not that she knew that - it was just an assumption. Until Peter had ‘accidentally’ sent her a screenshot of their group chat and Sirius had ‘accidentally’ sent her a snapchat of a drunken James and Remus had ‘accidentally’ told Marlene that James was in love with Lily. Then it had been less of an assumption and more something she needed to confirm. Because if she loved him and he loved her then Lily didn’t want to waste another second not being with him. And not kissing him. Kissing him was definitely high on the list of aims she needed her plan to achieve.
“So, no complaints… you like it then?” She gives him a twirl, just because she can, and because she knows the little fluff tail draws all eyes right to her arse, and then down her legs. When she comes full circle, his eyes are still focused down. She smirks.
“Compliments. No complaints, just compliments.” He nods, excessively.
“I’m glad you like it. I wore it for you.” It’s bold. It’s even bolder than when she told him he looked like a Conservative. It’s even bolder than when she swore at him mid-debate, in front of their lecturer. It’s even bolder than when she kissed some guy at a club two months ago, just because she knew he was looking.
James takes a second. “For me?” He frowns. “I don’t understand.”
Lily rolls her eyes. “I didn’t think it would take you this long to catch on.” But she’s worried now, worried that her bare midriff and legs aren’t enough of a hint. Of course it’s for you, you arse. She thinks.
“But -” he runs a hand through his hair and she knows the quiff has no chance of surviving. “Sirius said you liked him?”
“Sirius is a liar.” She says, making a mental note to hit Sirius over the head with something heavy.
“He said you called me an idiot.”
“I have called you an idiot. On many occasions. Just because I like you doesn’t mean you’re not an idiot. in fact, you’re kind of proving me right.”
James stutters. “Like me?”
“Yes.”
He looks her up and down again. “You wore that because you like me?”
“You were taking too long. I thought I’d make the first move.” She bits her lip, shy. “Has it worked?”
“I have a semi.” James says it matter-of-factly and, it’s so out of the blue that Lily can’t help but laugh.
“That was meant to come later, but I’ll take it now.”
“That’s what she said…” Absentminded, James steps forwards and cups her cheek with his hand. “So you like me? I like you too.”
“I fucking hope so. Otherwise you owe -”
“McGonagall was right then. We both do take too long to get to the point.” And he’s kissing her and she can’t breathe and then she can and it’s his breath and they’re kissing. She buries her hand in his hair, destroying the quiff completely, and only stops kissing him when a wolf whistle pierces through the music.
He rests his forehead against hers.
She smiles up at him. “Not bad Potter, not bad.”
Later, when they’re in bed and can’t take their hands off each other, he kisses her neck, “By the way, the skirt -”
“It’s supposed to be this short,” she says, arching her back.
James laughs. “I was just going to say, if you want to keep it on… no complaints.”
okay rhiannon i can't choose one so here and you can choose which inspires you c: 20, 49, 51, 54, 58 & 60 <333 ((because i can never make my mind up! choose whichever hehe))
‘marble hearts collide’
#58 “I was going to kiss him, but then my friend texted me about going to Taco Bell, and, well, there’s this cashier that works there who is way cuter, so I bailed on the rest of the date.”
Thank you Grace! I chose this one because I had an idea for it as soon as I read it and so… that’s what this is <3 I might make this a thing ?? like a series
modern + muggle au
“I was going to kiss him, but then Gemma texted me about going to Taco Bell, and, well, there’s this cashier that works there who is way cuter, so I bailed on the rest of the date.” Lily’s telling him this, aware that she sounds loopy, and she can’t help the blush on her cheeks but she’s also had a few glasses of wine, a few really meaning five, and really, it needs to be said. “So, anyway, I’m standing in front of this cashier guy and he really, really is cute. Like, textbook, chick flick, cute. Probably has a good shot at a career on Instagram. And he asks me what I want. And you know what I don’t want?” She pauses, doesn’t give him time to answer, takes another sip of the drink in her hand, drink meaning gin and tonic, and continues, “Him! I don’t want him! So, now I’ve bailed on my date to ask another guy out on a date and I go to ask this guy and I realise I don’t want to go on a date with him! He has to use a calculator to work out my change. I only paid with a fiver!” She throws her hands up and almost sends her glass flying and Sirius takes that as his cue to intervene.
“Hey, Evans,” he says, stilling her hand, “breathing is a vital part of staying alive.”
She looks at him with wide eyes, wide eyes meaning eyes that can’t focus on one thing. “I’m breathing.”
“Good to know.” He slips her legs off his lap and stands, cracking his neck, before snatching her glass from her hand. He downs it before she can protest and just grins at her pout. “Everything in moderation.”
“Including sobriety.” Surprisingly, drink never seems to hinder Lily’s vocabulary. It just makes her sound like a character out of an American coming-of-age film.
“So the date was bad then?” Sirius asks, placing her empty glass on the drink tray and opening a new bottle of scotch. He only pours one glass and her pout spreads to her eyes.
“He said his favourite film was Fight Club,” Lily winces just thinking about it.
“Yet, you were still going to kiss him?”
He rejoins her on the sofa as she shrugs. “He had a nice jaw.”
“A perfectly acceptable excuse to kiss someone.” Sirius raises his glass in a faux toast, “I still don’t understand how you ended up here, though.”
Lily rolls her eyes dramatically, as if that in itself is a journey which needs a film trilogy to explain it. “Well,” she lifts her legs back onto Sirius’ lap, “he gave me my change and I asked him if he knew what my name was. And he didn’t! The cheek! I’m a regular in there, at least when Mary’s in town which is like, 80% of the year. So, I’m standing in front of him, thinking that I was about to ask him out and he doesn’t even know my name! And then I ask how old he is and, get this,” she raises her eyebrows to emphasise her words, “he’s seventeen.”
“You naughty, naughty cougar,” Sirius smirks, shaking his head.
“I know! So, now, on top of him not knowing me, I’m basically like, breaking the law just by looking at him, and I’m sorry, but what seventeen year old can have a 5 o’clock shadow? None of you four managed it!” It’s a sore point and Sirius punishes her by pushing her legs off. “Anyway, so I just run. Mary is pissed because she hadn’t finished her taco, and so I tell her to just go back because I need to talk to you. So I get on the tube, walk like, the billion miles to your house, and here I am.”
“You left out the part where you threw your heel at my window to wake me up,” Sirius says.
“This isn’t Verona, there aren’t just convenient pebbles lying around,” Lily says this as if he should have thought of this immediately.
Considering he pays a guy to clean his driveway, he probably should have considered there wouldn’t be any pebbles for her to throw. “Well, you’ve certainly had an eventful evening. I’m guessing you want to sleep here?”
“I’m guessing you haven’t changed your silk sheets for cotton?”
“Never,” he says.
“Then yes please.” She accepts his helping hand up, and obediently follows him to the guest room. As always there’s a robe, matching the one Sirius is wearing except for his monogrammed initials, hanging up, two mints on the pillows, and a fire going. “God, I love you.”
“You love my money.”
“And your hair,” she goes up on her tippy toes and pecks him on the cheek. Sirius leans in the doorway, casually elegant, and somehow beautiful despite the fact that she woke him up at two am, and watches her as she gets ready for bed. They’ve been friends for years and, as a result, she has no qualms about slipping out of her dress in front of him. As she disappears into the en suite, knowing there will be make up wipes and face wash ready for her, he swirls the scotch around his glass.
Then, nonchalantly, “You know Potter is coming home tomorrow?”
In the en suite, something falls into the sink. “No! I thought he wasn’t due back until, like August.”
“No, tomorrow.” Sirius takes a swig, waiting to see if she says anything. Nothing. “I did tell you recently.”
“Must have slipped my mind.” Lily’s voice sounds oddly high pitched. Sirius can imagine her dragging out the task of removing her make up, not wanting to face him. Not wanting to face him meaning not wanting to admit the truth.
“He put it in his Easter newsletter,” still, Sirius sounds completely nonchalant, casual as a wolf with its mouth around a rabbit.
“I don’t read those,” Lily says, “they’re each as long as Ulysses.”
Sirius makes a considerate noise. “Well, I’m sure you won’t see him anyway. You’ve got such a busy schedule, you’ll probably have to leave early before he gets here.”
“Oh, no, I’ve got tomorrow off. They’re renovating.”
“Just for a day?”
Lily hums in agreement, just loud enough for him to hear, “Yup.”
In an attempt to lure her out, Sirius doesn’t reply. Just waits. And, as expected, it works because, a few minutes later, Lily leaves the en suite, some stubborn eyeliner still left around her eyes. She walks proudly, in only her bra and knickers, to the bed and climbs in between the silk sheets, burrowing down until only her eyes are visible.
“So, still in denial?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She says it as if she knows exactly what she’s talking about. Which she does. He’s talking about how she always manages to be around whenever James is due to arrive back from his latest trip. He’s talking about how she knows everything about James, from his shoe size to his least favourite restaurant in China Town, to his mum’s middle name, to where he wants to be buried, to the number of moles on his back, to his favourite Fast and Furious film. He’s talking about how both she and James have known each other as long as Lily has known Sirius and never once kissed, not even on the cheek. He’s talking about their shared aversion to sitting next to each other at the dinner table, even though they spend the rest of the meal talking to no one else but the other.
It’s infuriating. For him, for every single one of their shared friends, to anyone who spends more than two minutes in the same room with them. It’s so obvious, it bites the air, strains against whatever leash they’ve put it on, shouts to be heard. Yet, they both ignore it.
Ten years ago, Sirius had hated the fact that his best friend had fallen for someone. Now, he hated the fact that his best friend refused to admit he’d fallen for someone. They were 26 for fuck’s sake. For Sirius, who knew he was never going to marry and had no interest in any of that bollocks, this was okay. But, for them, who should stop wasting time and get on with it before they were 78 and still looking at each other from across the room, it wasn’t. It was time for them to break the leash and stop wasting time.
Sirius finishes the scotch. “If you say so.”
The wine and the G&T have worn off, and it’s obvious in her voice, as she says goodnight, “Sleep well Black, I’ll make you breakfast in the morning.”
“No you won’t,”
“No I won’t.”
“Goodnight, Evans,” he blows her a kiss from the doorway and then switches the light off, closing the door softly behind him. Once in the hallway, he pauses for a moment and shakes his head. Then, he walks up the stairs to his own bedroom and goes back to sleep, making a mental note to call someone about the heel-shaped crack in his window.
