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jimjam-lillo · 3 years

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if only in my dreams

Lily has been having some dreams about James but of course that in no way means she has any feelings for him of any kind

Read below or on AO3 or FFNT

The dreams started about a month into October of Seventh Year. They started slow at first and innocent enough, fun little dreams of the Marauders and Lily’s friends all sat near the fire playing Exploding Snap or chatting at dinner. Slowly, however, they started to shift. Instead of it being all of their friends together, they began to focus in on just her and James. Sometimes they were outlandish and artificial the way dreams could be, like the one where she was a star quidditch player and was playing his team but all of the other teammates were octopuses, or the one where Paul McCartney was their Transfiguration Professor. Fun and ridiculous and clearly too dreamlike to be of any real consequence to her but certainly notable. Yet other times they were so completely and utterly simplistic, domestic even. Calm and casual, just them sitting and laughing and holding hands. Everytime one of those occurred, Lily would wake up feeling content, at peace almost. Then the realization set in and the contentment quickly turned to horror. Those were the scariest dreams of all.

After the first few she was able to write them off as a coincidence, simply neurons firing in her brain as a way of dealing with spending so much time with him during the day as co-heads. Especially as they became friends over those first few months, it was really simple and logical, just her brain dealing with him being so present in her life and working it out as she slept. Considering it’d been years of them fighting and screaming, the sudden shift to friendship and laughing was obviously a lot to process.

The dreams didn’t occur every single night, at least not at first, more like once or twice a week at max. Just enough for her to spend some time thinking about them during a boring Ancient Runes class and processing them, but certainly not enough to cause any real worry or concern over her well being.

Even when they increased in frequency, from twice a week to six times a week plus that one time she zoned out and started daydreaming during History of Magic (which didn’t really count because he was sitting next to her and smelled so good of course it was going to leech into her dreams). It wasn’t hard to rationalize those either. It was completely logical that she’d daydream about lying on the Quidditch pitch alongside James, looking up at the stars together, hands intertwined, because after all they had stood near each other in Astronomy that day and he had pointed out Venus’s moons to her. It was natural, truly.

And it wasn’t difficult at all to make the connections between that day at lunch when she’d almost tripped but he’d caught her with a strong arm wrapped around her waist with that evening, when she had dreamt that same arm was wrapped around her tightly as she sat in front of him on the back of his broomstick as they flew over the school.

They were just dreams. Harmless imaginings of the imagination and the kind of stuff that was covered in day one of Petunia’s psychology courses at muggle Uni. Easily explainable and not in anyway shape or form telling of any real emotions she’d possibly be having.

Except that considering how simple and natural some of the dreams felt, she occasionally started mixing up what had happened between dream James and Lily and real life James and Lily. Was it real James or dream James that had brushed her hand while passing a quill in Transfiguration and set a wild blaze of electricity firing all up and down her arm? Did she actually hear real James’s breath hitch when she had brushed against him while reaching for the bottle of scalamander eyelashes during potions? Was it real James or dream James that she had stood so close to, close enough to feel his chest rising and falling against her as they hid from Filch in a cupboard?

It shouldn’t have been much of a surprise (but of course it still was) when the dreams turned a little more… intimate. When instead of dreaming of lunch in the Great Hall, the scene began to shift to lunch in the Three Broomsticks, just the two of them, followed by hand holding through the streets of Hogsmeade.

Friday night escalated things to nightmare level. Lily had been studying in the common room with Dorcas when the team returned from practice, led by James. Sweaty, grass stained, hair mussed, quidditch gear wearing, James. Lily felt her throat tighten and heart accelerate. His eyes landed on her and instantly smirked, nudging Marlene to point them out before the pair of them headed straight towards her.

“Evans, Meadows,” Lily’s mouth was too dry to respond. She nodded weakly as Marlene flopped down next to her and looked at her strangely.

That image of him haunted her, snuck deep into her subconscious, permeated her thoughts and took root there to flood her dreams. Filled them with him, sweaty and red, but for a reason far different from quidditch, leaning over her, whispering into her ear while she gripped his shoulders and left scratches in a trail down his back.

She couldn’t meet his eye the next day at breakfast.

This process seemed to repeat for the next several weeks: notice something about James during her waking hours that her subconscious would latch onto for the evening, wake up embarrassed, flushed, unsatisfied, and try her hardest to ignore him and stop the cycle. She never succeeded.

The night that really ruined her was right after they’d been partnered in defense. When she’d struggled with the incantation and he’d placed his fingers overtop of hers to show the correct positioning. When she felt how strong and flexible his hand was, how warm and long and rough his calloused fingers were. She felt shivers up and down her neck as he breathed closely to her, smelled mint on his breath, smelled the warm musk that was just so James.

All night she twisted and turned in her sleep, feeling those fingers trace up and down her arms, down her chest, twisting and lapping around the valley of her breast, circling each bud, pushing lower and lower, carving out waves of electricity as they squeezed her hips until she could just feel his fingers circling her clit. She could feel the callouses, could see him smirking at her as he’d bring his head down to meet his fingers, following the same trail of his fingers with his mouth, leaving a series of kisses across her skin.

She’d woken in a tangle of sheets sticking to the sweat on her skin, his name on the edge of her lips.

It’d taken a long, ice cold shower, to clear her head successfully. She stood in the freezing water attempting to justify the dream as just a way for her subconscious to deal with the fact that her close friend was decidedly fit. She tried desperately to cling to the idea of the dreams being a symptom of teenage hormones. However, in spite of her most sincere attempts, it was becoming shockingly clear that the dreams were much more a symptom of her real, genuine feelings for James. Romantic feelings. Spurts of butterflies and rampaging elephants that flooded her heart when he smiled. The fact that he could make her feel so on edge with excitement and anticipation when she saw him coming yet also immediately comfortable and the ability to talk to him about anything.

But she missed her chance. He’d been into her before, sure, but that was long over now. He’d essentially told her as much back in September, when he asked for a ceasefire now that they were both Heads. He’d told her he had grown up and would stop asking her out and bothering her if they could be civil, wasn’t that admitting that he’d left any possible romantic feelings for her behind him? He was over her. He was over her and it wasn’t his problem that she’d just now begun to realize how very badly she wanted him, all of him. She’d just get past it too.

How she was going to possibly get over him when his every waking action filtered through her dreams each night was the real issue. Her fingers were beginning to go numb from the frigid water, nearly shaking as she reached to turn the water off.

She wrapped her towel around her tightly, sheltering her like armour as she met her reflection in the mirror. Cheeks still flushed.

“Get over it,” she whispered to herself. She’d avoid him. That was the best solution. The only way to remove him from her dreams was to remove him from her waking moments as well. It’d be hard to avoid him forever, but at the very least she couldn’t be alone with him. Groups would be safer.

XXX

The next several days were difficult. Filled with eyes flitting away, nodding answers to his questions that had clearly been asked to engage in a conversation, ducking into bathrooms as he came down the corridor, and in a moment of absolute desperation brought on when she saw him standing there waiting for her in the doorway after potions, clearly attempting to walk with her which was essentially an ambush, and she had no choice but to strike up a conversation with Slughorn on the merits of using crushed salamander spleens verses the ever controversial chopped spleens. He’d gone on for about six minutes before James had given up and moved on to lunch, Lily counted to thirty before cutting Slughorn off and dashing away.

In the end she lasted three days of almost complete avoidance. He found her in the library. She’d done her best at hiding, choosing to study in the dusty Arithmancy section that maximum one person and one ghost seemed to visit per year and the table needed a solid Scourgify charm before she was able to sit down. She’d made it through half of her Charms essay before his hands slammed down on the table.

“Lily, I need to talk to you.”

His voice was tense and without looking up she could envision his rigid shoulders and sharp jaw looming over her. Her grip tightened on her quill as she set her shoulders and took a breath.

“Little busy right now, can it wait?”

He scoffed and pulled back the chair opposite her. “You’ve been avoiding me.”

“Not avoiding,” she squeaked, sneaking a glance up to see his gaze locked in on her and quickly averted her eyes back down. “Just busy, very, very busy.”

She could feel the eye roll.

He reached out across the table and closed the textbook she’d been reading from with a thump, forcing her to meet his eyeline with a glare that he unflinchingly met with his own.

“You can’t prove anything,” she crossed her arms across her chest.

“The only proof I needed I got when you suddenly, desperately had to talk to Flitwick about the best technique for forging charms which we all know you mastered three years ago. Or when you needed to discuss that stupid Salamandar debate with Slughorn that was clearly boring even you stale.”

He stated it all dryly, matter of fact, leaving no room for question or debate. They sat there silently for 93 seconds (she counted) as James leaned back in his chair, a vision of casual confidence.

“Fine!” She broke first. “I’m avoiding you. Are you happy? Are we done here now?”

He barked out a laugh, dropping his hands onto the table and folding them together. “We’ll be done when you explain whatever it is I did that made being around me so awful when we were just getting to a place where I thought we were friends, or at the very least capable of being in the same room and having a civil conversation.”

“I think it's time I go.” She pushed all her stuff into her rucksack hastily, hearing an ink well shatter as she did, and practically running to the door. One of the only benefits of the Arithmancy section is that it at least had a fast exit route, away from the main drag of tables, up the side of the aisles. She could hear James scrambling out of his chair and running to catch up with her but she refused to look back, getting as close to running as she could without risking the wrath of Madam Pince.

She was so close to the exit, the taste of freedom on the tip of her tongue. If she could just get out of the library, she could go left out of view and hide in an alcove until he passed or gave up looking. From then it’d be a simple matter of hiding away in her dorm for the next two to six days before she felt capable of facing him. She was rounding the corner to the exit, nodding tightly to Pince, when she felt his fingers wrap around her wrist and yank her into the nearest aisle.

She stared longingly over her shoulder at the exit as it disappeared as James pulled her along, weaving through aisles. Past Charms, past their table in Arithmancy, straight through Potions, all the way deep into the Divination section where the dust on the books appeared to be older than Lily and James combined.

It was there he finally stopped. Pulling her to the center of the aisle and standing strong in front of her.

It was silent for a tic as she stood there counting the seconds, mentally hoping that if she stayed quiet long enough, James would give up and leave.

Instead he cleared his throat. The noise was jarring in the otherwise silent aisle and without thinking her head turned on its own accord away from the dusty tombs to meet his eyes instead. Big mistake. His eyes were positively smoldering, a storm of hazel and gold glaring down at her. She’d always loved his eyes.

“What?” she bit out, forcing herself to break eye contact and stare somewhere around his shoulder instead.

“Start talking, Evans.”

His shoulders looked solid, no way she could charge past them. The way his shirt was pulling taut across them made her wonder if they’d feel as solid as they appeared and how’d they feel on her hands if she dug her nails into them while she-

She ripped her eyes away from his shoulders and down to his shoes instead. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she muttered, studying his laces and fidgeting slightly.

He scoffed and brought his free hand to her chin to tilt her gaze up to meet his once more. There were the eyes again.

“It’s a little late for all that, Lily.” He spoke slowly and quietly, as if she was a young deer he was worried would scamper off. “Now talk to me or I swear to god I’ll learn Occlumency just to get a peek at what you’re thinking about up there.”

Well that was a horrifying thought. Her brain reeled through all the images he’d see if he had actually taken a peek, his body pressing hot up against her, the two of them sitting in a sunlit field, picking dandelions, him wiping away a butterbeer mustache off her top lip as they laughed in the Three Broomsticks, him winning the Quidditch Cup and picking her up to spin her around in front of everyone.

“There,” he whispered accusingly, “that blush all over you right now? You’re hiding something from me, Evans, and that ends right now.” The tone was soft but the words were strong, gaze remaining level with her own, eyes searching her own as if the answer was written within them.

“I’ve been having dreams,” she blurted out, too flustered to be aware of her words and instantly regretting that they had come out. Her insides shrank as she squirmed under his gaze, shifting her weight.

He held steady, keeping his hand still tight on her wrist, not allowing her to move more than a breath away.

“What kind of dreams?” Nothing had changed in his voice, still controlled and level.

“I don’t know!” she snapped out, voice far louder than his own, “the embarrassing kind, okay? Are we done?” She twisted her wrist out of his own, somewhat surprised when he allowed her to. She was free, a part of her knew she should run right now and make her grand escape but a much larger part wanted to see what James would say, do, now that the truth was coming out.

She could practically see his wheels turning, mentally piecing together her words with her actions and the ramifications of it all. He was being too quiet, taking too long, and the words were boiling up in her now, desperate to fill the silence.

“They’re just dreams, okay? They don’t actually mean anything, it’s really not that big of a deal even,” she insisted, repeating the words she had spent the last several weeks telling herself out loud for the first time.

“If they don’t mean anything, why are you still blushing like that? And why would I be avoiding me? And what kind of dreams are the embarrassing ones exactly?” His brow was furrowed and a hand was rooted in his hair.

“They’re just stupid and random and unrealistic,” she spluttered, feeling the blush reach down to her toes.

“So tell me about one!” He demanded, “what happened in the most recent one? Did I kill you or something?”

“Oh please you don’t get it at all, you buffoon.” The embarrassment quickly was turning into rage and the words were pouring out.. “You didn’t kill me, you kissed me. Okay? More than kissed me really. You happy now?”

James was decidedly not happy. His expression turned only more incredulous with each passing second as her words took effect on him. His left hand dropped from her wrist to join his right firmly rooted in his hair, pulling and twisting.

She stared at him expectantly, waiting for a response, a realization, a reaction, anything. But instead he just stood there. Dumbfounded or disgusted or downright confused.

The seconds ticked by and her discomfort level rose as each one passed. The rage faded back to embarrassment and formed tears pricking at the back of her eyes, blinking furiously and squeezing her nails into her palms to try and stop any from leaking out.

“Are you going to say anything or just stand there ripping out your hair?”

He continued to stare, unmoving.

“Goodbye, James,” she spat out, crossing her arms tightly across her chest and pushing straight through him.

She heard him splutter something and got about six steps ahead before hearing his thundering steps behind her catching up to her. She pushed ahead until she felt his hand grip her shoulder and turn her around again

There was a scream on the tip of her tongue as she was pulled around to face him. “What, Jam-”

Her exclamations were silenced as he pushed his lips down onto hers. She hesitated for a moment in shock before throwing her arm around his neck and pulling him against her, leaning up on her tiptoes and responding enthusiastically. His hand from her shoulder pushed up to caress her cheek, other hand pressing hard and unforgiving into her hip.

“Was it like that?” The words were a whisper, hot against her face, barely a breath of space between them. “In your dream, was it like that?”

She barely nodded before pulling his lips back down to meet hers.

It was harsh and unyielding and not the kind of first kiss she had ever imagined for them but was certainly something taken right out of her dreams. She felt his hand tilting her head, adjusting their angle to fit perfect against each other as his tongue reached out to meet hers. Hot and heady and unbelievably perfect.

She didn’t notice them turning until her back was pushed up against the shelf. Corners and spines of the dusty volumes pressing up against her barely registering when there was so much of him to feel up against her. His scent surrounding her entirely, permeating the air around her until all she could think, smell, feel was just him.

He pulled back again, still barely a centimeter away and clearly reluctant to do so. “Wait, wait,” he heaved, “what exactly about a dream like that is ‘unrealistic’?”

She stammered unintelligibly for a moment, head filled with fog and fist curling tighter in the fabric of his shirt to anchor herself and him next to each other, “I just meant that we were friends now and you didn’t want to be…. you know.”

He cocked an eyebrow inquisitively, “enlighten me.”

“With me! Romantically speaking!” Her cheeks burned again, and eyes flitted down to where her hand was twisting his shirt.

Until she heard laughter. Actual laughter. One quick look at his face confirmed it, James Potter was actually laughing at her.

“Dear God, Evans,” he brought his hand to caress her cheek, thumb tracing her lower lip. “Evans, if I ever, and I mean ever, say I don’t want to be with you ‘romantically speaking’ you might as well Avada me right then and there because that is clearly an imposter.”

He didn’t give her a second to respond, crashing his lips back down onto hers.

And then he was snogging her again, harder. This instantly shut down her brain, eliminating the potential to analyze the implications of what he had just said because of course there would be time for analysis later but right now, in this moment, there was no time for that. There was no time for that because James Potter was snogging her in the depths of the library and it was so much better than any dream she’d ever had. She had no idea how long they’d stood there snogging, hands pulling hair and bruising skin and leaving her so utterly weak in the knees that she became vehemently grateful for the support of his arm around her back and the shelf she was leaning on. Minutes, hours, days, years, until she was so out of breath that she was practically sighing against his lips as they both slowed down, exhausted but so unwilling to separate, lips still brushing as they breathed in and out.

Her eyes remained closed and she pressed their heads together, lips no more than a centimeter apart.

“Hey Evans?” He sighed out, kissing her again chastely.

She hummed in response, rubbing her nose against his lightly and pushing up for one of those chaste kisses of her own, feeling his glasses press into her nose.

“Go out with me?”

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jimjam-lillo · 3 years

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Classroom Entertainment

my first ~smutty~ story… be gentle with me plz. Read below or on AO3 or FFNT

He was trying to kill her. That was the only possible explanation. Her boyfriend was actually going to kill her. Lily was absolutely sure of it, in fact it was the only thing she could say she actually learned during class today.

She certainly didn’t learn a single word about the Goblin Revolution of the year 459. She didn’t hear or understand a single word that Binns droned on about. She was trying to, honestly! But that damn boy was trying to ruin her, tarnish her reputation, and wreck her grades with one damn hand.

She’d been focused in, as attentive as one could be to Binns, and forcing herself to take notes on her parchment instead of mindlessly doodling, when she felt his hand first rest on her leg.

She froze instantly, his fingertips lightly caressing right above her knee, close but still over the hem of her skirt. His eyes remained forward, seemingly entranced by Binns, but she could see the smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“What,” she whispered out harshly, “do you think you’re doing?”

Keep reading

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jimjam-lillo · 4 years

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Dumbledore falling off the astronomy tower

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jimjam-lillo · 4 years

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no. this is why you shouldn't stan snape. all he cares about is lily. he doesn't give a shit about james and harry. he takes lily's love, her love that wasn't meant for him, and rips what would have been one of the only family pictures harry would have had. but no. snape rips it up, he rips up the family, and takes the picture of lily, which wasn't meant for him. he throws away james and harry; he doesn't care. lily wasn't ever meant for him, he was obsessed with her. he never loved her, he desired her.

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jimjam-lillo · 4 years

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when I send people asks on here I always turn on anonymous even though I don’t say or ask anything rude I’m just embarrassed to be saying things

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jimjam-lillo · 4 years

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41 Emotions as Expressed through Body Language

Found Here x

41 Emotions as Expressed through Body Language unique This list, while exhausting, is soooo not exhaustive; it barely scratches the surface. And each entry could easily become cliché (if it isn’t already). But, it should be enough to get you started. Want more? Start watching people (not in a creepy way), and take notes of what they seem to do when expressing different emotions. Your repertoire of expression will double in no time. PS—do not use these for actual, real-life body language reading; you will fail. These are strictly novelistic.

Awed -Slack -jawed, raised eyebrows, staring -Frozen, slack body language (Self? What self? There is only Zuul.) -Take a step back and put a hand to his heart

Amused -Smiling and throwing back her head laughing -Slapping her thighs, stamping her feet, clapping her hands -Shaking her head (That’s so wrong!)

Angry/Aggressive -Sharp movements, like shaking a fist, pointing, slashing, or slamming a fist on a table -Flushed face, patchy red blotches -Tension in neck—chords standing out, veins throbbing—and jutting or tucked chin -Arms akimbo, or clenching fists -Entering someone else’s space and forcing them out -Poofing up with a wide stance (I am big! Very big!), arms wide (Bring it!) -Lowered eyebrows, squinting eyes -Teeth bared, jaw clenched, snarling

Annoyed -Pressing lips together into a thin line -Narrowing eyes sometimes with slight head tilt (Why do you still exist?) -Rolling eyes, often paired with a long-suffering sigh

Anxious -Fidgeting, such as tearing grass into little pieces, playing with a ring, or chewing on a pencil -Biting lower lip, swallowing unnecessarily -Quickened breathing or holding breath -Darting eyes -Pallor, sweating, clammy palms -Unusually high-pitched, “nervous” laughter -Hunched shoulders -Pacing

Attentive -Slow head nodding with a furrowed brow -Leaning forward, toward the speaker, and sitting up -Taking notes -Looking over the top of her glasses

Bored -Resting his head on his palm, peeking out between the fingers, maybe even slipping so his head “accidentally” hits the table -Tapping toes, twirling pencil, doodling, and otherwise fidgeting -Staring out a window, or at anything remotely more interesting (Which is everything …)

Confident -Arms clasped behind body -Head lifted, chest out, standing tall -Walking briskly and making firm, precise movements

Confused -Tilting head with narrowed eyes -A furrowed brow -Shrugging

Contempt/Superiority -Lifted chin (The better to look down the nose.) -Pursed lips, sneering, slight frown -Circling a shoulder, stretching her neck, turning away—anything to indicate she doesn’t see the person as a threat or worthy of her attention -Grabbing her lapels, or tucking her thumbs in her waistcoat (See this clothing? It is much nicer than yours.) -Dismissive hand-waving

Cynical/Sarcastic/Bitter -Twisted lips or a half-smile -Sneering, sometimes with shaking the head and other defensive body language -Pressed lips with a slight frown -Eye rolling

Defensive -Crossed arms, legs, crossed anything, really (Well, maybe not fingers … or eyes …) -Arms out, palms forward (Stop!) -Placing anything (sword, shield, book, backpack) in front of her body

Disgusted -Crinkling his nose -Curling his lip and/or showing the tip of his tongue briefly -Flinching back and interposing a shoulder or turning away -Covering his nose, gagging, and squinting his eyes shut—hard—for a moment. (It assaults all the senses.)

Displeased -A plastered-on fake smile (You suck; but I can’t tell you that. So here: a fake smile! Enjoy.) -Pouting or frowning (I’ll cry if you don’t give me what I want—don’t test me, I will!) -Crossed arms and other defensive/frustrated body language (I will not let that terrible idea influence me!)

Distressed -Wide eyes and shallow, rapid breathing -Beating the walls, or huddling into a corner -Clasping hands over his head protectively -Rocking himself -Handwringing -Running his hands through his hair

Earnest/Passionate -Leaning forward, nodding, wide eyes with strong eye contact and raised eyebrows -Hand on heart, or presented palms-up, or otherwise visible -A double-handed handshake (I really want to make sure you understand me!)

Embarrassment -Blushing -Stammering -Covering her face with her hands or bowing her head (I’m so embarrassed, I can’t look!) -Difficulty maintaining eye contact, looking down and away

Excited/Anticipation -Rubbing hands together (I can’t wait to get my hands on it!) -Licking lips (It’s so close I can taste it!) -A vigorous, pumping handshake (I can’t wait to get started!) -Jumping up and down (Look at me being literal here! I am jumping for joy.) -A wide and easy grin

Flirty -Eye play, like winking, looking up through the lashes, over the shoulder glances, and eye catching -Preening, like hair flipping or smooth, clothing straightening, spine straightening, etc. -Striking a cowboy pose, with his thumbs gripping his belt tight

Frustrated -Shaking his head (You are so wrong!) -Massaging temples (My brain—it hurts.) -Clasping his wrist in his opposite hand, behind his back (Bad arm! No biscuit.) -Running his hands through his hair (All this frustration is making my hair mussy. I can feel it.) -Grabbing onto something like armrests, or white-knuckled interdigitation (Restrain yourself!)

Happy -Smiling and laughing -Eyes and nose crinkling -Swinging her arms, spinning loosely, dancing, jumping

Impatience -Quick head nodding (Get on with it!) -Toe/finger tapping (Hear this? These are seconds. Wasted. Listening to you.) -Sighing, checking the clock/sundial/freckles (Time. It is moving so slowly.)

Jealous -Tight lips, or a sour expression -Narrow eyes locked on the perpetrator, to the point of a stare down -Crossed arms, and additional frustrated, angry, possessive, or bitter body language

Lying -Scratching their nose, ear, neck, miscellaneous part of face -Sudden change in behavior or demeanor, including shifty eye contact, lots of long blinking, shrugging -Ill-timed smiles or laughter (This is how I normally smile, right? Right???) -Additional anxiety body language -Shaking head no while saying “yes” (I can’t believe I just lied.) -Licking lips, covering mouth, touching mouth, etc.

Overwhelmed -Both palms to forehead, fingers splayed (This gives me a headache.) -Covering eyes with one hand (If I can’t see the world, it can’t see me …) -Eyes wide and staring into space, hands gripping the table in front of her (… Woah.)

Playful/Friendly -Winking -Waggling eyebrows -Tiny shoves or nudge

Pleasure -Head tilted back, lips parted slightly, eyes wide or closed -Slow, languorous movements, stretching (such as arching her neck or back) -Slight flush, quickened breath and pulse

Possessive -Handshake with arm clasp -Putting hands on or around someone’s shoulders, neck, waist, back, or even just the wall near them -Standing in someone’s personal space, body positioned toward that person -Any one-sided act of intimacy, like running a knuckle down someone’s cheek -Staring down any who get too close

Proud/Dominant -Chin up, chest out, shoulders back -A painfully hard handshake that not only squishes the bones, but also forces his hand on top -Leaning back with his hands behind his head, and his feet up -Strong, unblinking, focused eye contact

Reluctance/Resistance -Arms crossed, sometimes with fists (Not happening.) -Dragging feet (But I don’t wanna!) -Pinching nose (You want me to do what now?) -Clamping hands over ears (La la la la!)

Sad/Upset -Droopy body (and anything held, like a sword), bowed in shoulders, wrapping arms around self -Slow movements with hesitation -Bottom lip jutting out and/or quivering -Crying, sobbing, body shaking, sniffling, wet eyes

Secretive -A tight-lipped smile (My lips are zipped.) -Hiding her hands in her pockets (What has it got in its nasty little pocket?) -Looking away

Scared -Hunched shoulders, shrinking back from others (Don’t hurt me!) -Wide eyes and lifted eyebrows (The better to see them coming.) -Shaking, trembling, or freezing -Rocking from side to side, sometimes holding self (It’ll all be okay, self, it’ll all be okay.)

Shame -Slumped shoulders (Don’t look at me.) -Trouble meeting your gaze, looking down and away -Burying her face in her hands or bowing her head (I can’t face the world right now.)

Shocked -Hands covering her mouth, or mouth hanging open, sometimes with a gasp (If I had words, I would be saying them.) -Freezing and staring with wide eyes and eyebrows raised (Diverting all resources toward staring.) -Smacking a palm into his forehead (Clearly, my head isn’t working right, or I wouldn’t have seen that)

Shy -Avoids eye contact, or has only fleeting eye contact (Eye contact means you might speak to me.) -Keeps a fair distance from everyone, and will back away if someone steps closer (Space invaders!) -Folded arms, head down, and other defensive body language (If I make myself small, they can’t see me.)

Smug -Slight, close-lipped smile (occasionally one-sided) and sometimes one raised eyebrow (I know something you don’t know.) -Chin slightly tucked, Mona Lisa smile, raised eyebrows (I know better.) -Finger steepling (I am so smaaaht.)

Suspicious/Skeptical/Disbelief -Narrowed eyes, sometimes with a sidelong glance or raised eyebrow (Perhaps if I look at it out of the corner of my eye, I will catch it unawares.) -Rubbing his eyes (I can’t believe what I’m metaphorically or literally seeing!) -Shaking his head (I—I don’t believe it.) -Blowing out cheeks (Well , I don’t know …)

Tired -Rubbing his eyes, eyes staring into space, raised eyebrows (Raising my eyebrows helps keep my eyes open.) -Yawning and/or stretching (I am tired—see? Tired! Too tired to care!) -Almost nodding off and jerking awake (Cannot. Stay. Awa—snnnnurzzzz.) -Gritting teeth to stay awake (Cannot—yawn—dang it!)

Thoughtfulness/Thinking -Steepling fingers (I will think better if I center myself and focus.) -Pinching nose, sometimes with closed eyes (Focus, focus—I just need to focus.) -Tugging on an ear (This will help me remember!) -Stroking a real or imaginary beard (People with beards look smart.) -Furrowed brow, narrowed eyes, sometimes tilted head and pressing lips together (I can’t see it—I will try harder!) -Resting his chin on his hand (Thinking makes my head heavy.)

Triumphant -Hands clenched and held above head while grimacing (She is invincible!) -Head tilted back with a yell (She is fierce!) -Arm pumping in the air, jumping (Woohoo!)

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jimjam-lillo · 4 years

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Birthmarks

Tiny Jily drabble that was stuck in my head :)

Lily once read, in some silly magazine in a waiting room or one of her roommates gossip rags, that birthmarks were where a lover always kissed you in a past life.

If that were true, she’d have a lot to explain to any future reincarnations of herself. She liked the idea though, the idea that James would be leaving his mark on her, even into the next life. A little memory of him before her future self found his future self, again and again. She thought it explained the mark on the back on her right hand, where she supposed some old traditional version of James had likely kissed. He always was brought up with manners.

Right in the middle of her forehead there would likely be a large one in the next life. Right where James kisses her every time he left the house - long hug, once on the forehead, once on the tip of the nose, twice on the lips, and one more on the forehead.

She knew there’d be one sitting right below her left collarbone, a spot that only he knew drove her wild. He would spend minutes that felt like hours lavishing that one, singular spot.

Her right hip, as well, would undoubtedly have a mark. It would be right in the middle of her lower hip, where he would always sweetly place a kiss. The sweetness in contrast to the rough way he usually held her in that position, the smarmy grin he’d throw her as he made eye contact, sweetly kissing that one spot, blowing on it, before she’d roll her eyes and push his head lower.

She knew that any future version of herself would be covered in reminders of James-from-now and she loved that. She loved that the emotional and psychological marks he currently held on her could be made into permanent, everlasting ones that superseded her current incarnation.

Her only hope, as she pressed her lips to his right cheek, then left cheek, then nose, would be that she could leave a similar mark. Mark his future self up just the same, and hopefully, just maybe, it’d make finding him next time just a little bit easier.

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jimjam-lillo · 4 years

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Nah, She Didn’t

The seven times Sirius Black said “nah, she didn’t” about James and Lily. Read below or here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26399692

Third year

“James!” Sirius shouted as he walked in his dorm and saw his best mate sitting on his bed, head in hands. “Where were you? We’ve been waiting for you in the library for an hour to work on the map.” Sirius shoved him over so he could sit alongside him.

“Sorry, I forgot,” James said, refusing to look up from his hands. Sirius scoffed at him, “no way you forgot, what the ruddy hell were you doing?”

“I erm I ran into Evans,” James fidgeted, slowly meeting Sirius’ eyes. “I was just trying to be friendly but she was with Snivellus and he said some shite and I hexed him without thinking and er, she yelled pretty loud.” James was running his hands through his hair, dejected.

“Nothing new there mate, Evans has a permanent stick in her arse and Snivellus is a git. Still not seeing the issue.”

James looked down again, pulling at his fingernails. “She said she hated me, Sirius. She hates me. I tried to apologize but she wouldn’t listen,” James mourned, looking like a kicked puppy, “she meant it, she really hates me.”

Sirius looked at his pathetically upset friend, all spun out over a dumb girl. He deserved better than that. Still, he spoke with a gentle tone, “Nah, she didn’t mate. She didn’t mean it.” He stood up and reached out a hand to help James up, “let’s get to the kitchens, slice of pie might cheer you up”

Keep reading

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jimjam-lillo · 4 years

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Taylor Swift x twenty

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jimjam-lillo · 4 years

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“Nah, she didn’t”

“How come she married him?” Harry asked miserably. “She hated him!”

Hated him? Hate was not the word that Sirius could attribute to the way Lily and James were. Images blurred in the back of his eyes. Laughter, red wisps of hair, coming to life in the fire of the common room. Hands laced together as they ran down the corridor, laughs peeling out as James lifted her and swung her around. Crinkled eyes full of light, and warmth. Absolute warmth, like a fire, every time they made eye contact. Him, moving along with her every movement, moving closer together like magnets.

How could he ever show that to Harry? Show the true joy and love his two best friends had shared. That kind of rare, passionate, absolute perfection could only be understood by someone first hand observing. There was no way to properly explain to their son, the wonderful product of true, undeniable love, just how much passion his parents had for each other. No way to express the warmth and love.

“Nah, she didn’t,” said Sirius.

#jily #James Potter #Lily Evans #sirius #sirius black #Harry Potter #mywriting #blurb

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jimjam-lillo · 4 years

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harry potter and the prisoner of azkaban (2004), dir. alfonso cuarón

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jimjam-lillo · 4 years

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Happy birthday Harry Potter! ( July 31st, 1980)

#jily

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jimjam-lillo · 4 years

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queen shit

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jimjam-lillo · 4 years

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Never Lose You

Lily and James meet again after 5 years in a bar. Too much history has happened but too many feelings remain. Loosely inspired by Cornelia Street by Taylor Swift because she is everything. Part 1/2 posted

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13611019/1/Never-Lose-You

A wave of sticky, hot air washed over Lily as she entered the crowded bar. Half of her immediately wanted to turn around, but the promise of alcohol and Marlene’s pushy hand on her back gave her the courage to keep moving through the sweaty people.

Alice had texted that she’d already secured them a table in the far right corner, and LIly could see her waving excitedly at them now from where she stood. She pushed through and jumped into Alice’s open arms for a hug.

Emma was sitting on the other side of the table already and pushed a drink across the table to her.

“Drink up, ladies,” Emma grinned at Lily and Marlene, “Alice and I have been here for an hour already. You’ve got some catching up to do!”

The girls passed the next hour and a half laughing and chatting, catching up on their recent lives, and reminiscing on their Hogwarts years together. They saw each other as often as they could, but it had gotten harder after school and not being around each other constantly. They moved in all together immediately after school but soon enough Alice left them to go move in with her boyfriend, Frank. Emma left soon after to attend grad school, and that left Marlene and Lily. Both worked within a few blocks of their shared apartment, a small, cute, barely in price range 2 bedroom that they decorated with thrifted furniture and empty wine bottles. The bar they were at now, The Griffyn, had become their go to spot to catch up with the girls. Close enough to walk back home on a nice night, with cheap enough drinks, and the most limited amount of creeps to hit on them.

It had been a painful, long day to end a painful, long week at work where the problems just never seemed to end. Usually Lily would refuse to go out or leave her couch after a week like that. She felt the best way to solve those weeks would be to turn on a good Criminal Minds binge and survive off of takeaway for the weekend. Tonight, however, the weather was warm for the first time in weeks, and Lily had missed her friends. She knew she needed to go out so she came home, showered, put her makeup on as if it was her own form of war paint, and headed out, choosing that she would have fun tonight.

It seemed this was even better medicine than Criminal Minds and Derek Morgan's beautiful figure because Lily’s stomach was quickly hurting with how hard she was laughing. Alice was telling a very animated work story about some idiot co worker and causing Lily’s drink to come out through her nose as tears streamed down her face in laughter. She felt light, pure joy, and happiness wash over her, surely from an equal combination of her drinks as well as her company. Noticing now that her cup was empty, Lily insisted on buying the next round and leaping up from their table towards the bar, blowing kisses over her shoulder back at the table as Marlene called out “My hero!” to her.

Lily was still laughing when she got close to the bar. There was a group of four boys, tall and broad shouldered, standing right in her way of accessing the bar. Unsure of how to get around them, Lily quipped out a “S’cuse me, gents'' as she slipped directly in between the two closest ones, cutting under the arm of one with long, black hair. Their conversation seemed to halt at the girl weaving through them, and Lily heard them begin to speak in hushed tones while her back ws to them but she couldn’t convince herself to be bothered. Instead she focused on flagging down the bartender. He was preoccupied down at the other end of the bar with a Bachelorette Party so Lily resigned herself to waiting for a few minutes until he could come deal with her, and leaned up against the bar, twiddling her fingers. She was scanning up and down the others leaning on the bar, seeing if she recognized any other regulars, when she felt a tapping on her shoulder. “Evans?”

Lily whipped around at this mystery stranger knowing her name and she was met with shocked, hazel and sparkling eyes. “Potter?” She whispered back.

“It really is Evans! At a bar! Who would have thought!” The second voice shocked Lily and she tore her eyes off of Potters, to reassess the others with him. Sirius, who turned out to be the second speaker, was standing next to James, eyes filled with mischief and mirth, just as she remembered them. Peter and Remus were there as well, the latter smiling brightly at her.

“Sirius Black, I would say it's been too long but ah… still not sure it's been quite long enough,” Lily shot back at him, with a teasing smile.

“Oh Evans,” Sirius reached out and ruffled her hair, “I have missed you!”

Lily pushed his hand out of her hair with a laugh and leaned around to hug Remus, who she’d always gotten along well with at school, and give an awkward one arm hug to Peter, who she never talked to quite enough at school to properly know. After they unlatched she turned back and James caught her eye. She hadn’t seen him since a week after graduation, at Emmeline Vance’s graduation party. The gold in his eyes brought her right back to that rooftop they sat on and her breath hitched in her throat. She could tell he was there too until he snapped out of it and his eyes turned from molten back to guarded and black. Exactly the guarded look he had that night when she rejected him.

“All right, Evans?” There was her Potter. With his roguish grin that she used to hate and then she didn’t, which scared her more than anything.

“Alright, Potter,” she grinned back at him and walked right into his open arms for a hug.

He smelled good. Like real good. Like manly and home and she resisted the urge to curl her fingers into his shirt and purr like a cat. Letting go of him after a respectable amount of time for a friend hug was hard. She didn’t want to give him friend hugs. She wanted him to hold her and wrap her up like he did when she was shivering from the wind that night. When he would so casually drop a kiss onto the top of her head.

It took them a full year of being heads together and friends to reach that level of comfort and it took months of being that comfortable, for him to convince himself he wasn’t just seeing things, and to work up the courage to kiss her. And for her to kiss him. And then all those days, weeks, months of work came tumbling down because of her and her fears of starting something so new and real when she was just starting her life and leaving.

She knew that James was special, that her and James together would be special and powerful and would be so damn good. But she also knew that if she was going to be with him, it was going to be deep, and real, and probably forever. And as a brand new graduate, forever was far and scary and she was a coward who rejected him without explaining any of her fears. If she just told him, just explained, he would have talked her out of it immediately. But she didn’t. And so he left her on that rooftop and she was too much of a coward to go after him. Or to track him down or keep touch and now here she was five years later, alone, and unable to be with anyone else because nobody else was him.

“You here alone, Evans? Scoping the crowd out for eligible young bachelors?” Sirius waggled his eyebrows at her, scoping out the crowd.

“Mhm yes, Sirius I frequently spend my evenings in bars alone to pick up eligible bachelors. You wanna be my boy for the night?” She teased back, “Just kidding, I haven’t stooped low enough to be interested in you, yet. Marlene, Emma, and Alice are all back there,” she stood on her tiptoes to point at the table. “I’m getting drinks for everyone but you guys should come join us!” she couldn’t help her eyes from sticking to James at the invitation. His cheeks colored when they made eye contact, and his hand immediately went to ruffle his hair as he nodded.

Remus helped her flag down the bartender, being much taller and after collecting their drinks they headed over to the table, the boys carrying her drinks for her, as well as their own. With her hands free and James’ eyes on her she felt extremely aware of where her arms were and how much they were swinging as she walked back to their table.

“Look who I found!” Lily announces to the table, interrupting Alice mid sentence.

The girls all jumped up to hug their newcomers and Alice stole two chairs from a nearby table so they could all squish in. Naturally, Lily ended up right next to James, smushed up all alongside him.

Isn’t this perfect.

Lily spent the next hour sitting there, with her right side pressed up against James, brushing up against him even more every time she lifted her glass to take a drink, pretending she didn’t notice. He should have smelled like sweat, all squashed up as he was, but of course he just smelled like cologne. Cologne that she wanted to bathe in. She also spent that hour pretending that she wasn’t watching his jawline whenever he swallowed, his cheekbones everytime he laughed, his throat everytime a stray drop of beer ran down him. She had to look away when she started to seriously consider leaning over to lick it off.

Marlene and Sirius were hilarious to watch and listen to as they bantered back and forth, barely stopping to let anyone else get a word in. She was sitting there just watching them and laughing when she felt James shift in his seat and couldn't focus on anything else as his head dipped down and leaned closer to her ear.

“So,” he whispered into her ear, hot breath washing over her as she gulped. “How have you been?”

She whipped her head around the table to see if anyone had seen or if there was any chance someone else heard, but saw them all still absorbed in Peter’s missing pet rat story. She chanced a look back at him and saw his face so close to hers, she couldn’t look away. “Good! Busy!” she swallowed hard and looked away. “I started working at a NonProfit a few months after graduation and have been there since.” Work talk was safe. Work talk meant no feelings. “How about you? Did you end up working with your dad?”

“Yeah, eventually. I held out for a little bit, put my accounting degree to use at another firm but he pulled me over to Speakeasy about a year and a half ago to be their in house accountant. It's been good. Better than I thought at least,” he smiled uneasily.

She gripped her drink tightly and smiled softly back at him, “Good. That’s good! I’m happy for you.”

“Yeah, thanks. I’m happy for you too.”

It was awkward and slightly uncomfortable, but it felt like that was the necessary talk to open the floodgates and Lily felt her whole body relax. Maybe that meant they would be ok, they could recover and be like they used to or be even better. They could have their fresh start.

After that Lily joined the group conversation, as did James. They laughed and chatted and teased and filled in the blanks of the years lost but quickly came back to their fun, light banter as if no time had passed. The years apart faded away as each drink was finished and before long he was her James again. It became natural to shove his side when he made a cheeky comment, not at all weird when he grabbed her to give her a noogie, or when she stole his drink to take a drag. They were back and together and one again.

Sirius got the next round, then James, then Remus, each time Lily or Alice fighting them to let them buy it but “we crashed your girls night. It’s only right!” James shot back every time with a wink always directed right at Lily, which she always responded to with a fierce blush. Marlene was smirking at her and Lily was half refusing to make eye contact, half smirking right back as she realized she didn’t care if Marlene teased her when it felt so. damn. good. Sitting with him, laughing with him, just being around him. She felt like she had come back to life without even knowing she had stopped living. Each laugh felt louder, breath deeper, drink stronger. She liked it.

The bar had begun to clear out until they were one of the last remaining tables. “Let’s go, drunkies” Alice had stood from the table and was attempting to pull Sirius up from the bench, as he responded with dead weight refusal to move.

“Aliiiiiiice,” he groaned, face down, “we can’t let the party die already!”

“Who said anything about it dying?” Marlene smirked at him, “Let’s go, Lily and I live a block from here. We can party all night long.” Sirius gave a whoop and leaped up from the table, tackling Alice.

“That okay, Lily? You don’t have to get up early for work or anything, do you?” James looked at her earnestly, rubbing the back of his neck, something that looked a lot like hope or fear glimmering in his eyes.

She smiled softly back. “Of course. Not going to let this night die so easily.” He broke out into a wide grin then and hers quickly matched his, standing at the edge of the table, staring at each other, smiling like idiots.

“Ehm, s’cuse me,” Peter squeaked out from the table Lily was blocking him from leaving. Their little bubble broke as she mumbled out an apology and stepped away to let him out, whole face lighting up in blush.

“C’mon, Evans” James had walked a few tables ahead and stood there waiting for her to catch up. All the others had walked on.

They caught up quickly but stayed a few paces behind the others as they emerged onto the street to have the cold air wash over them. She barely had time to curse herself for forgetting her jacket back at home when his was wrapped around her shoulders.

It smelled just like him. Yep, I’m done for.

#jily #marauders #fanfic #harry potter #james potter #lily evans #fanfiction

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