#jilytober2023

[constancezin]

Yes!

[jfleamont]

@jilytoberfest @jilymicrofics - 337 words - Week 2 Prompt:

Smoke

“I am finished.”

“You're not.”

“McGonagall is going to take my Head Girl badge away.”

Lily was looking straight ahead, and if the circumstances had been different he would have thought that she was just enjoying the view from the Astronomy tower, but she was avoiding his gaze.

“Oh, come on, she only saw you smoke, and she didn't say a word. And, she's seen me doing worse things.”

She shook her head. “You should have seen the look on her face! And it's different, James... No offence, but you're not risking much. You're a pureblood.”

“McGonagall isn't.”

Her head turned so fast that he was afraid she got whiplash. “What?”

“Her dad's a muggle. And you know she doesn't care about that stuff. It's our first week back and you're just nervous, I get it, but you're overthinking this. Plus, it's not like it was, you know... pot,” he whispered the last word, shooting her a knowing look.

“I don't know what you're referring to.”

She had a great poker face, he had to admit it.

“Mmh. I probably just dreamt that you were high as a hippogriff this summer at my house.”

“Yes.”

“And I must have imagined you trying to ride Sirius's bike, right?”

The left corner of her mouth turned up, and a dimple appeared. “You have a creative mind, what can I say?”

“Lily,” he admonished her.

“James,” her chin high in defiance, a challenge in her eyes.

He raised one eyebrow, and that was all it took to break both of them. Her laugh was loud and bright, and she had regained that mischievous glint in her eyes.

He recovered first and, still smiling, leaned on the railing again, looking at her out of the corner of his eye.

“You know, I broke into Minnie's office once. I'm 96% sure she has a secret stash of catnip and if she catches you while you're high, I'll get that for you so you can blackmail her.”

“Ah, my knight in shining armour.”

[jilytoberfest]

JilyExpress fic chain 2 (M+ rated)

Lily has no idea how much blood the human body holds— later, when she's sitting white-faced and trembling outside the makeshift infirmary she’ll finally speak the question aloud and Sirius will tell her it's 5 litres (why he knows this, she does not question)— but she does know the burgundy pool beside James’ shaking body is too big, his wheezing too loud, his breathing too laboured. Her eyes are too blurry to catch the way he looks at her as he fades, her hands are too busy casting— a frantic attempt to mend his cursed wounds— to note the feeble squeeze he gives her knee and she's much too scared at the thought of losing him to focus on anything but saving him. A hand—Sirius — squeezes her shoulder and with a hurried tap of her wand they begin to spin.

[kay-elle-cee]

@jilytoberfest 31 Prompts: Day 1 || 689 Words || Read on Ao3 —

“Excuse me?”

Lily looks up from her phone, startled by the proximity of the deep voice calling for her attention. The volume of the pub around them necessitates close proximity for any sort of conversation, and she blinks as her eyes focus on a (very) attractive man sliding into the seat next to her. Quickly, her eyes dart around looking for Dorcas, who should really be on her way back from the loo any second now, to no avail.

“You’re here with Meadowes, right?” The man asks, a black eyebrow raising knowingly, something unspoken and humorous dancing on his lips.

Rolling her eyes, Lily leans back in her seat and drops her attention to her phone. This happens all the time. “You’re not her type, sorry.”

The man lets out a sharp laugh that draws her gaze up once more, and it lingers to take in the untamable curls that fall in front of square-rimmed glasses. “I’d say not.” At the raise of her brow, he shakes his head with a smile. “I’m James. Marlene’s friend.”

Lily sucks a breath through her teeth and reaches for her half-empty drink. “I see.” Taking a long sip, she sets it down and straightens out the napkin on the table, fixing this man—James—with a tired, knowing look. “And I take it Marlene also disappeared to the toilets about ten minutes ago, and has yet to return?”

“‘Gone to get us drinks,’ actually,” James replies, fingers quoting around his friend’s excuse.

“Wonderful. And here I thought Dorcas wanted to have a girls' night.”

“To be fair to Dorcas, I think she is.”

Lily just stares blankly at him. “Does that usually get a laugh?”

“An exasperated groan, actually.”

“Good,” she nods, taking another sip of her drink. “You don’t need the encouragement.”

James places a hand over his heart in mock-pain, a smile spreading on his lips. “So Dorcas lured you here under the pretense of a girl’s night? Marlene said we were coming to a pub quiz. Imagine my disappointment.”

“This is so messy,” Lily sighs, tracing the top of her glass. “The last time they broke up—”

“I know,” James sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Their schedules just really don’t line up. Maybe that’s why they pulled us into it—someone to hold them accountable.”

“Fat load of good that does when they don’t even tell us the reason we’re here. I have other things I could be doing other than sitting alone in a pub on a Tuesday night.”

“Yeah I’m a little peeved at McKinnon. I actually rearranged my schedule because she said they were down a member.”

Lily’s lips twitch. “You rearranged your schedule for a pub quiz?”

“I rearranged my schedule to help a friend,” he answers, aghast.

“Your friend should be more appreciative and not run off to snog her ex-girlfriend in the toilets,” Lily grimaces, finishing her drink.

He sighs, bringing his beer bottle to his lips (and drawing Lily’s gaze there as well). “It’s not the first time she’s done something like this. I’m afraid I’m rather gullible when it comes to my friends.”

“It’s Dorcas’ first time pulling something like this.” She clears her throat and tears her eyes away from his lips, a flush crawling up her neck as she sees she’s been caught. James quirks an eyebrow.

“Maybe we should teach them a lesson. Make sure they don’t do it again.” 

Her pulse quickens. “Maybe. They shouldn’t leave their poor, suffering friends alone in a bar.” Green eyes flicker down to full lips for the quickest of moments. “Do you have an idea?”

“I do,” James breathes, and he’s leaning in towards her. “But I’d feel pretty shit following through without even knowing your name.”

She honest-to-God blacks out for a second, before remembering the four-lettered thing. “Lily.”

“Lily,” he repeats, and the sound of her name in his mouth sends a jolt of electricity through her. “I’m James.”

Her smile is fleeting as she spots two figures heading their way, and she rushes her next words. “You’ve already said that, and they’re coming. Now shut up and kiss me.”

[jaylienpotter]

3rd October (sry I'm late) @jilytoberfest prompt

~ Tasty ~

[eastwindmlk]

It was not uncommon for James and Lily to argue. It had never been. They argued about everything, every day, ever since everyone could remember. If there wasn’t bickering at the Gryffindor breakfast table, people would get the feeling that their day never really got started. Some students even started using the quality of the bickering and banter as an indication of how their day would go.

This meant that their ceasefire in seventh year left a lot of students unsettled. Left adrift without their daily dose of discourse. Everyone has witnessed how, over the years, it has gone from passionate dislike to begrudging affection and finally to outright flirtations. Not that it seemed like the pair had any idea.

Until, one day, things took a sudden turn. After having thrown around backhanded compliments and thinly veiled advances, everyone was whispering and betting on when they would finally admit to each other that this was more than just a little friendly rivalry.

It was a fairly dull Monday morning in early December when the Gryffindor table filled with the familiar bickering. People leaned in to catch the words that would have the student body talking for the remainder of the day.

James Potter was sitting with his arms crossed, a smirk on his lips as he huffed. “You know what, Evans? Fuck you.” Without missing a beat, the head girl shot back. “Would you?” Her head tilted slightly, winking as she watched him choke on his morning pumpkin juice.

Victorious at last!

[emeralddoeadeer]

31 Prompts for 31 Days

@jilytoberfest is back! Happy October

A collection of drabbles

7. Getting engaged

James runs a quill tip over her skin, steady, sure.

Lifting her gaze from the parchment she’s working to fill Lily looks at her hand between them.

“What are you doing?” Voice barely a whisper, she doesn’t think she could raise it even if they weren’t in the library.

“Dreaming, imagining, planning…” He smiles softly, eyes still on the delicate pattern on the second finger of her left hand.

“I—”

“I’m going to marry you, Lily Evans, someday.”

Her voice now impossibly quieter, “Did you just propose to me?” 

“What would you say?”

Without hesitation, her voice is found.

“Yes.”

[joyseuphoria]

Oh look, Joy is finally writing again

Even The Sun Sets In Paradise

Chapter 1 - hello, come in, welcome to the freak show

Written For the RomCom event for the @jilytoberfest

Inspired by the book ‘The summer of broken rules’ by K. L. Walther

Honestly? I’m making this up as I go. The plot I took the time intricately plan out, isn’t plotting much. So, here we are! I hope you enjoy this. I’m also trying to incorporate all the 31prompts in this fic so… let’s see haha

Summary: Basically, James and Lily are basically going to be participating in a huge game of Assassin while falling in love with each other 😌

Huge thanks to @practicecourts for helping me with everything haha

[ohmygodshesinsane]

the badge and the boy, chapter two

[A love story told in 20 micros for @jilytoberfest and @jilymicrofics, using the Jily Sprinkles prompts.]

train

Rumours swirled up the train with wisps of smoke and the trolley witch. Lily vowed to pay them no mind until the time for the meeting came; she’d spread the word that it was to be at one, and whoever the Head Boy was, he hadn’t contested it. Not Sev, then, and that relieved her.

She slipped into the big compartment at the back of the train and started arranging her things. Maybe the Head Boy was Boyd from Ravenclaw. He’d always been a bit spacey.

The door slid open. Lily looked up. Her heart sunk.

“Hi,” said James Potter.

[ao3]

[isahorcrux]

love, james || chapter 3

love, james || chapter 3: surely all the maps have been made

James likes Lily. And Lily likes James. How the hell did it get so complicated?

Love, Rosie, but make it Jily. Written for the Jilytoberfest 2023 Rom-Com Event.

listen to the playlist here

The leavers’ dance, by all accounts, was a resounding success.  At least in Lily’s opinion it was.  How she and James had managed to find time to plan the damn thing between studying for their N.E.W.T.s, Quidditch, and their actual Head duties was beyond her.  Perhaps it was because they were so busy.  Lily often thought she thrived when she was the most stressed.  Perhaps that was why she was so miserable tonight.  

continue reading on ao3

[call-me-the-cassie]

Lily lay on a hammock, her eyes closed, her hair loose and swaying with the wind, looking like a princess except the cigarette in her hand marring the perfect picture.

“That’s a filthy habit, you know”, James observed.

Lily raised an eyebrow, amused, glancing pointedly at his own pack.

“We could quit together”, he suggested, staring a little as her eyes fluttered shut again.

She laughed, disbelieving.

“I’ll pledge you my allegiance, my lady”, he promised, jumping off his hammock and reaching for her hand. “Quit with me?”

And when he looked at her like that, Lily couldn’t say no.

Whew, that's my first proper drabble, exactly a hundred words, so that's exciting! Thanks to @jilytoberfest for the week 2 micro prompts.

@jilymicrofics I wrote a micro!

[jilymicrofics]

A little angsty + communication and you get a winning jily combo! @chiechie97

The Cigarette's you left at Mine

A Jily Microfic for @jilymicrofics

Prompt: Smoke

The smoke curled around her tongue, it's acrid taste a bitter reminder of the man who had left them in her flat.

"Lily?" Mary called from inside. "He's at the door again, should I—"

"Tell him, to fuck off."

James Potter had never been good at taking a hint. Or no for an answer.

She thought things were serious between them. She thought he knew how she felt.

But apperantly he didn't see things the same way. She'd taken one look at the letter from Clara Clearwater on his kitchen counter and seen enough.

'You looked good last night. I'll see you this weekend for the charity ball. I still love you.'

All written in a letter that had arrived that morning.

She'd balled up the letter and thrown it at his face, yelling at him for being a prick, for leading her on, for making her think there was something serious between them.

Lily took another harsh drag of the ciggarette, watching the smoke from it swirl between her fingers like a snake.

The door to the terrace slid open behind her, the warm air from inside sliding up her back.

"Is he gone?"

"No."

She whipped around, the cigarette falling from her hand as she turned to stare at James.

"I thought I told you to fuck off."

"And I thought you told me smoking was a filthy habbit."

He had bags under his eyes, his shirt was rumpled and untucked from his trousers. Since leaving Hogwarts he'd become considerably more put together, but at that moment he looked like shit.

She glared at him. Stomping out the the remains of the fag that had fallen onto the floor of her balcony.

"Lily, please just listen to me for one minute. Let me explain." He had his hands up deffensivley, like he was waiting for her to strike him with her words.

"You have one minute."

He sighed in relief. Hand jumping to his hair, which was more unruly than usual.

"Clara and I ran into eachother at a dinner party my parents threw, I didn't know she would be there I haven't spoken to her since graduation."

"And she just sends you a love letter out of the blue?" Lily questioned, arms crossed angrily over her chest.

"You know our parents were hopeful for a relationship when we were in school. I have a feeling her parents still haven't dropped that idea." He explained.

"And yours have?"

"Yes." He emphasized, taking a step closer to her. "Because they know how crazy I am about you."

She sucked in a breath, an unwanted flutter in her chest lit up at his declaration.

"Do you swear that nothing has happened between you and Clara?"

"I swear on my life."

Lily starred at him for a moment, assessing the sincere and desperate look he was giving her.

"Alright."

"Alright?"

"Alright I believe you."

She pulled his pack of cigarretes out of her back pocket, her hands shaking with a deep sense of relief. "Do you want a smoke?"

He grinned, accepeting his own cigarette before reaching out to light the one she had put between her lips. His hand brushing against her cheek.

"Smoking is a filthy habit." He said, parroting her own words back at him.

"So are you."

[jilytoberfest]

JilyExpress fic chain 1 - G rated

It was common knowledge that soup was only for for the sick, or so Lily thought. Be it for her nemesis (he got promoted to love crush a few months ago) to refute that fact and cause an all out war in the Gryffindor common room. And that’s how Lily found herself on top of one of the couches there, arguing her case in front of the makeshift jury— Remus Lupin, Mary MacDonald and Benjy Fenwick.

[kay-elle-cee]

@jilytoberfest 31 Prompts: Day 30 || 1346 Words || Read on Ao3 This one's sad! 😀 —

It’s a cloudy day outside—that much James can tell from the little window in his room. He’s been told there’s no outside time today by his Healer, Opal, so he guesses there’s probably rain coming, or maybe snow—he’s not sure he can recall what month it is. But still, he enjoys sitting in the comfy chair by the window, smoothing the blanket on his lap as he watches the birds fly by, for a long while. 

A few times he mistakes his reflection for a bird—the grey strands of his hair rustling with the turn of his head. This earns a low chuckle from him—so jumpy after a life spent in war, even in a place as safe as St. Mungo’s. 

“James?”

His name pulls his attention from the birds outside to the doorway across the room. Standing there is a woman with sparkling green eyes, edges crinkled as she smiles tentatively over at him. Her hair—a light, faded red—is plaited over one shoulder and she slowly takes a step forward. “My name is Lily. I’m a Mungo’s volunteer, and I thought I could sit with you for a while, if you’d like some company.”

He nods, gesturing to the matching chair beside him. “Of course.”

His invitation relaxes something in her shoulders and her smile melts from tense to easy. She grabs a pillow from another nearby chair and places it behind her back as she sinks down next to him. Her eyes scan him, and James suddenly becomes self-conscious. 

He knows the war he’d fought in had left him marked with scars, had left him bruised and battered, and he tugs his cardigan tighter around his neck to hide some of the more gruesome marks he’s not sure how to explain. 

“It’s nice to meet you, Lily,” he nods with a smile, trying to move on from the awkwardness of his scars.

A flash of something crosses her face, but it’s gone so quickly he figures he must have imagined it. Instead, a warm smile is back on her lips and she’s leaning towards him. “It’s nice to meet you, too, James. Tell me, do you know what today is?”

He thinks for a moment, but still can’t pinpoint the month or year, much less the day.

Lily doesn’t let him stew too much in his thoughts, reaching into her purse and pulling out something she enlarges with the tap of her wand. It’s a container that contains two chocolate cupcakes, and when she opens it, the smell alone jolts James back to his parents’ kitchen as a boy.

“Opal told me it’s your birthday,” she says with a gentle excitement, handing him one of the cupcakes. “Luckily I happened to have this in my purse, I thought it could be a nice little treat.”

“Oh,” James blinks, staring at the treat in his hand, “thank you.” She smiles at him again before taking a bite, humming appreciatively, and he follows suit.

It’s good. He can’t remember having something like this since—

Well, that’s the problem with spell damage, isn’t it? He doesn’t know. 

He lets out a sigh of frustration as he takes another bite, trying to usher the negative feelings away as he focuses on the kindness of his guest. They make some idle chit-chat between bites and she vanishes up the crumbs with a wave of her wand once they’re done.

“Contraband, no evidence,” she whispers with a mischievous smile and a lively glint in her eyes that has James staring too long. 

Under his gaze, she tucks a strand of light hair behind her ear and he notices the glint of a ring on her finger, and inexplicably his heart sinks. Offering her a slightly weaker smile, he thanks her again for the cupcake, realizing that if it’s his birthday, then that means it’s March, and if it’s March, that means Quidditch was nearing the end of regular season.

“I have an…odd question,” he asks. Lily gives him an encouraging nod. “Puddlemere United. Would you happen to know how they’re getting on this season?”

Her head falls back with delicate laughter, and when she smiles, it’s warm and buzzing with affection—a fellow Puddlemere supporter. “They’re doing really well,” she tells him, her laughter still echoing in the spaces between the words. “Two of the Chasers have been drafted onto England’s team for the World Cup.”

“There’s a World Cup this year?”

“Yes, there is. Held in Italy, if you can believe it.”

James sighs, leaning back in his chair with a look of wonderment on his face. He removes his glasses and wipes his face. “I wish I could go to the Cup. Just once, at least.”

“You—” Lily begins a sentence, then clears her throat before continuing. “It’s quite an experience, I’ll say.”

He sits up straight, looking at her with wide eyes. “You’ve been?”

Something’s changed. Her eyes still sparkle, but there’s a softness around the edges that tug at something in his chest. Lily takes a breath and nods slowly, dropping her eyes to her lap, where she twists the rings around her finger. “I have. My husband and I went some years ago, when it was held here in England.” A smile tugs the corners of her lips back up. “It was remarkable.”

“Please tell me he doesn’t hold allegiance to a stupid team.”

She laughs again, shaking her head softly. “No, no. He has good taste. A Puddlemere man, through and through.”

He makes a sound of approval and sees her lips twitch from his periphery. “He’s a patient here, actually. It’s why I love to come to Mungo’s and volunteer, to see him.”

“Lucky bloke,” he comments, flashing her a smile just as Opal raps on the doorframe with a large smile on her face.

“Look at you two,” she gushes as she crosses the threshold. His cheeks redden at the insinuation in her tone. “Are you enjoying your visitor, Mr. Potter?”

Potter. The name is a bolt of lightning in his system—something to grasp for that’s a natural extension of James but is just slippery enough to not stay put, no matter how many times he hears it. 

Potter. It conjures up more faded memories: the blast of spells, overlapping schoolboy laughter, vibrant red hair, a small child with bright green eyes and wild black hair.

Potter. His head turns to look at the woman beside him, and her features—beautiful as they are in their graceful age, flicker to something younger, something fiercer. Something full of hope, until suddenly they’re back in his room at St. Mungo’s and her hair is faded and her eyes twinkle with concern. 

It’s all a bit overwhelming, these surges of memories through the lasting damage of decaying magic. These two sets of eyes on him—expectant and kind and worried. His gaze falls into the hands in his lap—old, wrinkled, but undoubtedly his own—and he frowns as he twists a silver band around his finger, not quite remembering how it got there.

“Yes. It’s been nice company to have, especially on my birthday.”

He retreats into himself, as he normally does after such an intense round of mental strain, and Lily quietly rises, reaching over and squeezing his hand in a silent farewell. 

It’s a sensation he remembers, he just doesn’t know from where.

He’s silent as he watches her go, hoping he didn’t upset her enough that she won’t return—he really did enjoy her visit. It was…comfortable. Familiar.

“I’m going to give him some time to rest,” he hears Lily whisper to Opal across the room. “I’ll be back later with Harry when he gets off work.”

“Of course, dear, we’ll see you back around dinner.”

As she crosses the threshold of his room, she casts one last glance back at him, and this time when their eyes meet his heart thunders against his ribcage at the sadness and love he sees in their depths. Emotion breaks forth from somewhere deep in his chest, deep in his soul and reminds him—however briefly—of love he can’t forget.

Lily.

[chierafied]

Moonlight Waltz

Here's the one shot I wrote for the Masquerade event hosted by the wonderful @jilytoberfest!

Summary:

On a late-night sugar-borrowing mission, Lily finally meets her elusive neighbour. But she’s not prepared for the sight she’s about to see.

Rated T. 1,288 words.

Prompt: You’re my neighbour and I came over to borrow some sugar and didn’t expect to find you outside, slow dancing with your garden rake.

[eastwindmlk]

“You’re wrong.” A voice came from behind James, taking him by surprise. The point of his pencil was almost going through the newspaper. His head whipped around to see an unfamiliar face peering at him from between the seats behind him. “Uh, thank you? But I am pretty sure about this one.” He muttered, too confused to question the woman. His eyes drifted back to his crossword. “Suit yourself, but you are wrong.” She chirped, disappearing back into her seat without offering what she believed to be the right answer. Which suited James just fine. He did not need help to solve it.

A few minutes went by, and the train halted at the next station. A chilly breeze was going through the car as people bustled in, shaking snow from their heads and shoulders before settling into a spot. Tapping at the next clue that stumped him, his lips rubbing together in thought. Pressing them together, the lady behind him appeared again. “You are thinking of the wrong type of season.”

James turned a quarter so he could see her properly, wondering what type of person would feel the need to meddle in his puzzling time. He was not sure what he was expecting, but it was not a set of brilliant green eyes framed with thick lashes. Red-painted lips, wearing a knowing smile. So, at least she was cute. Not that it made what she was doing less rude.

“What makes you say that?” He asked before having thought over whether he really wanted an answer. “You’re thinking food seasoning, but you’re doing the Times crossword.” James nodded. So far, she was right. Taking off his glasses to polish them, he thought over her words, a smile creeping onto his face. “Fall. It is bloody fall.” He realised, pushing his glasses back up his nose. Looking at the woman for confirmation, he felt oddly proud when she nodded, withdrawing once more.

Another station passed them by; he finished his crossword in peace before turning to stare out of the window. The afternoon skies were already dark grey, and he was watching street lights fly past. “You’re a long way from home; what brings you to Scotland?” James asked, seemingly out of the blue, having the urge to engage the lady behind him in conversation. There was a long pause, thinking that maybe she hadn’t heard him. Or he had assumed he had not been talking to her, which made sense. Turning in his seat, peering along the gap in chairs, he offered her a smile.

The green eyes stared back at him, a little baffled. A paperback copy of Salem’s Lot being lowered. “Huh?” The lady blinked at him, her head cocking slightly. “You’re not from around here, are you? So, why are you heading to Edinburgh?” He tried again, feeling a little less confident than he had moments ago. The smile on his face turned more awkward the longer he persisted. “Am I wrong?”

“No, no, you’re not. South London, born and raised.” She smiled, and the book was now closed on her lap. “I’m here for a conference. Speaking at one, actually.” James watched her hands wring together for a moment before she tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “Sorry, I did not mean to make you uncomfortable. I severely underestimated how long a four-hour train ride actually is.” he hoped that being honest would put her at ease a little.

“You’re right! Four hours is forever on a train!” Her laugh reassured him a little, making her seem less nervous. “What about you? Because you don’t sound very northern either.” Now it was James’s turn to laugh and shrug. “Same, actually. But I am recruiting.” She hummed, nodding slowly, before extending her hand. “Lily Evans, pleasure to meet you.” Reaching over the seat to shake her hand, he smiled. “James Potter, pleasure is all mine.”, “Say, there is a very empty seat next to me and about two more hours. I think my masseuse will murder me if I keep sitting like this.”

And like that, she was sitting next to him. The two hours melted away like it was nothing. He learned they were going to the same conference. As well as having similar tastes in music, films, and food. She bought them a drink in the dining car, and he produced an entire roll of chocolate cookies from his bag. When the train pulled into Waverley station, it signalled the end of their journey. Pulling on his gloves, James contemplated asking for her number or her card. Anything.

But Lily beat him to it. “So, second date tonight? Dinner?” A question he did not have to think twice about. Nodding maybe a little too eagerly. “Meet me at the ticket booth at six.” It wasn’t until she was already halfway down the platform that he wondered why she had called it a second date. A question he was sure to ask her that night.