Jily Fic - Tumblr Posts

Rip to all the fics in my notes app that I lost when I broke my last phone, maybe you could have seen the light of day if I didn’t think it was a great idea to do a front walkover while drunk.

falling to the music (jily)

a/n: band au jily band au jily!! i loved writing this, and i think it might actually ball-of-wool its way into being a full fic, so if you like this one keep your eyes peeled for a pt. 2

‘Alright, alright, let’s cool things off a minute!’ The lead singer flips his long black hair out of his face and gives a nod to the band behind him, ushering in a more toned down beat that chugs along in the background as he continues to address the crowd.

‘Now! Show’s not over yet, ladies and gents, but I do want to take a breather and chat to you about the amazing band I have with me tonight!’ A couple of whoops go round the room. Behind her, Lily hears a group of girls yell drunken variations on ‘I’m in love with you’. The frontman grins something wicked at this, and directs a wink in their general direction, which seems to go down well based on the audible swooning. Lily doesn’t really get it - he’s pretty, sure, all high cheekbones and roguish elegance, but she’s not about to throw away any and all sense of dignity she has for him.

‘As gorgeous as I am,’ the singer continues, ‘I’m afraid I’m absolutely nothing without my mates here on stage with me. So let’s give them a little appreciation, yeah? Holding it down on bass, it’s the love of my life, Remus John Lupin everybody!’ Cheers and applause as the bassist, who’s revealed to have gone slightly pink in the cheeks by the spotlight they’ve got on him, dives into a solo. It’s impressive. His long fingers move lightning fast across his fretboard, his scars appearing silver as they move like tides over his tendons, and Lily decides she likes him. Remus has a nice sort of quality, possessing less bravado than his band mates but seeming entirely immersed in the music. She’s a bit disappointed when his segment comes to a close. But soon the long-haired singer is speaking again, introducing the next member.

‘Drumming for his life all the way there in the back, let me introduce you to Mr Peter Pettigrew!’ The drummer is short and round-faced, a bit like a cherub, and his eyes shine at the attention he’s getting. He blows his floppy dirty blond hair out of his eyes and starts going at his solo like it’s all he’s got. Snare and bass drums thunder out arrestingly in the small venue. Lily claps along with the rest of the audience when he delivers a particularly complicated fill, and then his time is up too, and he pulls back into the steady rhythm he’d been playing beforehand. The frontman, who had stepped aside to give Peter centre stage, returns to the mic. He’s smiling broadly.

‘Now, showing us all up on lead guitar and yes, ladies, he is single,’ he proclaims, ‘it’s only James fucking Potter!’ Lily’s gaze drifts across to the man in question and fucking hell. She’s not sure how she didn’t notice him before, but now, certainly, she’s looking. He’s dazzling, sporting a blazing red guitar that contrasts delectably with the warm depth of his skin. She thinks idly that her red hair might have much the same effect, before admonishing herself vigorously. Get a hold of yourself, Lils. He’s just a random bloke who’s half decent at guitar. There’s a problem there though, because he’s not just half decent - he’s good. And he knows it, grinning like he’s on top of the world with each new wave of screams that come his way. The crowd seems to really energise him. Soaring to new heights again and again, his solo is mesmerising, the sound flying off the frets with a gorgeous vividity. Beside her, Mary nudges her in the ribs and leans in to speak into her ear over the roar of the music.

‘Interested?’ Lily rolls her eyes and feigns disgust.

‘Not at all.’

‘You’re blushing.’

‘Bitch, it’s hot as anything in here. We’re basically in a Heinz beans can of people.’ Mary laughs at this, but the sound is drowned out by the applause as James finishes his part.

‘Yeah, yeah, whatever,’ she smirks as the noise dies down.

Back up at the front, the singer claps James on the back good-naturedly, and pulls him in to say something the audience isn’t privy to. Whatever it is, it’s funny, because James laughs uproariously. His brown eyes glint with mirth from behind the frames of his glasses. Then, he beckons for the mic, and the singer removes it from its stand to pass it over.

‘You’ve heard from all of us, so now it’s time to boost the bastard next to me’s ego - not that he needs it, mind.’ James’ voice is lower than expected, liquid and easy like molten gold. You can hear him smiling when he speaks. It’s horrendously attractive. What a twat.

‘So, please join me in celebrating, the sexiest family disappointment that there ever was, Sirius Black!’ Sirius throws an arm up as the reaction his introduction garners threatens to blow the roof off. He makes a performance of it, putting a hand up to his ear like he can’t hear them and blowing kisses to the people in the front row. Lily isn’t really watching him though. Her eyes are drawn back to James, like he’s literally magnetic. She wants to pull him down off that stage and shag him.

Later, when the last of the encores is over and people are beginning to make their way out of the sticky warmth of the pub into the sharp coolness of the street, Mary decides she wants to meet the band. This tends to be a regular occurrence - she always did have a thing for rockstars. But it is made worse by the endlessly irritating fact that this time, Lily’s got a thing for one of the rockstars too. She doesn’t want to go. She’d much rather go straight home and forget this band and their sexy lead guitarist as quickly as possible, but Mary won’t take no for an answer, and leads her by an iron grip through the venue. Fat lot of good being a best friend does you.

When they get there, Sirius is packing up his guitar. He looks up sharply when he hears them approach, but quickly softens back into the charismatic smile he was sporting on stage.

‘Evening, ladies. Enjoy our set?’

‘Oh, I don’t know, it was okay,’ Mary’s tone is a mock disinterest, but she’s given away by the smile that’s playing on her lips.

‘Don’t lie to me, babe, I saw you singing along. You might’ve been the loudest of the lot. Got a name?’

‘Mary,’ she replies breathlessly.

‘Charmed, Miss Magdalene. And your friend?’ Lily goes to answer, but doesn’t get there in time.

‘This is Lily. Say, you don’t suppose you could call your friend over, the other guitarist? She’d quite like to meet him.’ Mortified, Lily shoots her best friend a look of pure death and whacks her soundly on the arm.

‘Hold your tongue, Macdonald, or so help me God I will set you on fire and use you to light a cig,’ she snaps, earning a huff of shocked laughter from Sirius. He looks at Lily, calculating, then at Mary, then back to Lily again. Slowly, a wicked grin starts to spread across his face.

‘Jamie, mate?,’ he yells, refusing to break eye contact with his victim. ‘You’ve got that redhead here to see you.’ It is in this moment that Lily Evans mentally declares Sirius Black to be her mortal enemy.

When he gets there, James is out of breath.

‘Welcome to the party, Prongs,’ Sirius laughs, punching him lightly in the arm. ‘This here, my fine fellow, is Lily.’

‘Lily,’ he repeats, almost reverently. Her name shimmers in his voice, and does cruel, evil things to her stomach.

‘Hello.’

‘You, erm. You wanted to talk to me?’

‘Well… no, you know what? Fuck it. Yes. Yes, I wanted to talk to you.’

‘I think we’ll just, uh, scoot over there a little,’ says Mary, bestowing her vice-like grip on Sirius this time, who yelps in shock as he’s dragged unceremoniously off to the side.

‘What was it you wanted to say?’ inquires James, now that the two of them are alone.

‘I suppose… just that you’re a really talented musician. Like honestly, watching you up there doing your solo, it was completely insane. I didn’t know guitars, like, did that.’ Lily looks up at him after that last bit, and notes painfully that he’s a very good height for kissing.

‘You really think that? Oh my god, I mean, thank you! Really, really, thank you, thank you very much. That’s a really nice compliment, that- that’s really lovely of you,’ he says, words tumbling out of his mouth like pennies. He’s beaming down at her like he’s a puppy, almost as wide as he was on stage. It’s sort of adorable.

‘Yeah, well. Y’know. And… okay, stop me if I’m crossing a line here but - could I give you my number? Only my friend will kill me if I don’t shoot my shot, and you’re… well, you’re quite attractive. Sorry if that’s forward.’

‘No, no, not at all, I’m, er, well, I’m honoured. Fuck, listen, I don’t have my phone on me right now - I forgot to charge it last night because I’m a dunce, and I’m with Sirius most of the time anyway so I figured it wouldn’t matter if I left it at home, which I’m realising now is something I definitely should never do again, but I digress. I- could I give you a pen? Could you like, write it on me?’ Lily laughs as she watches him flounder, then nods assuringly.

‘Sure, I can write it on you.’

‘Okay, brilliant,’ he breathes, before scrambling up onto the stage and grabbing a Sharpie off one of the amps. He hops back down in front of her and holds it out for her to have.

‘Where should I put it?’ Lily asks, taking the pen from him and pulling off the cap.

‘Anywhere’s fine.’ Humming, she puts a hand just above his elbow and pulls his arm across, giving her access to his bicep.

‘Less likely to rub off if I put it here,’ she explains, to which James replies with a shaky exhale and a nod. Lily begins writing down the numbers in neat, confident strokes, her tongue poking slightly out to the side as she concentrates. Once she’s satisfied, she straightens up, recaps the pen and gives it back.

‘Call or text me, then.’

‘Yep.’

‘Listen, I’ve got to go find my friend, she’s a bit tipsy so I’m in charge of getting her home okay. But it was nice to meet you.’

‘You too.’

Lily turns to leave, then stops and swivels back round to look at him.

‘You smell really good, by the way.’

falling to the music pt. 2 (jily)

a/n: part 2 to my band au jily noodles arrives! featuring coffee, more of mary and a slight misunderstanding…

Lily goes four whole days with no new messages. Okay, fine, her friends text her, and she gets some emails from university about upcoming assignments, and her Waterstones app cheerily supplies to her the hottest novels of the month in a push notification, but she doesn’t get a text from James, which means none of that counts. And Lily is not bothered about this in the slightest. She’s fine about it, dandy even. Her friends have not complained about the new habit she’s developed of checking her iMessages every spare moment she has. Only, maybe they have. Once. Or twice. Or thrice. It’s just she thought it had gone so well. She had flirted, hadn’t she? And he had been interested, or so she’d thought. He’d gone to get her a pen, for fuck’s sake. She’d written her number on his skin. She’d basically temporary tattooed him, it was a Sharpie and everything. But she hears not a peep from him, so apparently he’s just a typical guy-in-an-indie-rock-band who flirts with girls and never follows up. Which is fine, honestly - that’s his prerogative. All it means now is she’s got to learn to quell the incessant and unrelenting desire to see him again. Easier said than done, though.

It’s a Saturday when she decides to ring Mary up and meet her for a coffee. This is what I need, she thinks. I just need to let it all out in one sitting and then move the fuck on. I only bloody met him once. So she dresses up. She picks out that nice skirt she got in a charity shop in York and her pair of sixties style boots and douses herself in perfume, and goes marching out to enjoy a good old rant and a latte. She’s determined to have a nice morning, and to have everything go her way for once. And she almost gets that. Almost.

The coffee shop, to its credit, is exactly as she wanted it to be. An independent joint on a pretty street corner, it’s perfect for people watching, and decorated quite pleasantly with all sorts of vintage knickknacks. She likes it. It’s unknown enough that it doesn’t get too busy, and not so awfully pretentious that it doesn’t have any proper seating. Seriously, why does no one seem to want to let you sit down anymore? Settling herself comfortably in a gorgeous green armchair by the window, Lily sets her phone face down firmly on the table. She vows silently and fervently to herself that she will not check it until she has left the building. Then, she pulls out her novel, Emma - which is in every aspect the perfect comfort book - and contents herself to caring solely about what’s going on in Highbury. So far, so good.

Mary turns up about ten or so minutes late, despite her optimistic suggestion over the phone earlier that this time it might only be five. This is not an issue though because Lily knows her best friend like the back of her hand, and thus knows better than to believe that she might arrive on time. Things are still as they ought to be.

‘Right then, Lils,’ Mary says after having brought over their drinks. ‘I have it on good authority that we’re pissed off today, is that correct?’

‘However did you guess?’ Lily deadpans.

‘Oh, I think the scowling at your mobile whilst I was in the queue may have tipped me off. It’s about that guitarist of yours, isn’t it?’

‘Obviously, yeah. Him, and the fact that men are the root of all evil.’ At this, Mary throws her hands up as if in worship, closing her eyes and humming appreciatively.

‘Too damn right, babe. Although I will say, dating girls can still be tricky.’

‘Yeah, but I reckon I’d probably feel like less of a fool if I was this hung up on a pretty girl. Instead I’m here whining about not getting the attention of a good-for-nothing, piece of shit, stupid fucking man. Christ.’ She reaches forward to take a sip of her coffee, looking somewhat defeated.

‘He still hasn’t texted you I take it?’

‘Not once. I don’t know what I did wrong, Mary. I thought he liked me. You saw him, you saw how Sirius introduced me. Didn’t he like me?’

‘I mean yeah, it looked like it. I’m sure you didn’t do anything wrong, so don’t go blaming yourself for it. Guys fall at their feet for you. Maybe he does want to text you, but can’t. Maybe there was an emergency so he’s been too busy to think about dating, or maybe he’s a flustered coward who can’t work up the courage to ask you out, or maybe he’s driven off to the Irish countryside on a lads trip to fuck about with his mates and didn’t realise he wouldn’t have any service. Or maybe it’s none of those things, and he isn’t interested at all. Whatever it is, you can’t start losing all your marbles ‘cause you’re waiting for a text.’ Mary puts both her hands down on the table palms up, and waits for Lily to take them. When their hands are slotted properly together, she gives a gentle squeeze and continues.

‘You, Lils, are a wonderful woman. And you have a wonderful woman’s life full of all sorts of wonderful things. Don’t waste it fretting over some bloke in a band.’ Lily takes a deep breath.

‘You’re right,’ she sighs. ‘You always are.’

‘I know,’ Mary answers with a smile.

‘Thanks. For putting up with all this, I mean. I promise I’ll be back to my usual self now. Nice, normal, non-boy-obsessed Lily.’

The phone that had been set face down on the table about twenty minutes ago chooses this moment as the perfect opportunity to buzz. The vibration sends it inching closer to the boundary between the safe, charted territory of antique mahogany wood, and the sheer drop down to the floor as if it, too, aches for the sweet release of death. Fuck me.

‘Fancy checking that?’ Mary asks sweetly.

‘Nope. No. No can do. Not going to check it.’

‘You can if you want to. We’ve all been there, I won’t judge.’

‘I have more resolve than that. I just said I’m back to normal. I don’t care if it’s him or not, I’m not going to look.’ Mary just stares at her. It’s not in any way critical, nor condemnatory. If anything, it just looks like she’s waiting it out. Lily counts about ten seconds of pained eye contact before-

‘I’m so sorry, I have to look.’ She snatches her phone from where it’s ended up suicidally near the edge of the table, taps it to light it up and of fucking course. There it is.

iMessages: Unknown Number

hii :) it’s james. is this lily?

‘Is it him?’ Mary has one eyebrow raised.

‘Fucking- yeah, it’s him.’

Lily wants so desperately to ignore the message. Here is a man who’s made her feel so incredibly pathetic, so incredibly angry, and he’s just waltzed on into her notifications without a care in the world. She shouldn’t dignify him with a response. And yet.

Lily: Lily Evans speaking.

James: oh, yay! okay perfect. well, hopefully you know who i am then. i’m the guitarist from the gig, like four days ago? you wrote your number on my arm.

Lily: Mhmm.

James: listen, i’m really sorry i didn’t get in contact sooner

James: you remember how when we were chatting that night i told you i was a dunce?

Lily: I do recall.

James: that is the truest thing i have ever said in my whole life. i am a dunce. i am stupid to the point of being unsalvageable. i am, you might say, a total buffoon.

Lily: And all this to say, what?

James: i dropped my phone :((

Lily: That’s why you haven’t texted me for four days? You dropped your sodding phone?

James: down an entire flight of stairs!

James: completely killed it

James: basically shot it dead and then broke both its legs for good measure

Lily: Right.

James: so then i was going to text you on sirius’ phone, but sirius is awful for pranks, and i didn’t want him to do something dickish or pretend that i died or something just to mess with you

James: he’s my best mate and i love him half to death, but he’s a bit of a knob sometimes

James: you don’t deserve that

James: and then remus is a fossil who still carries around a fucking nokia brick looking thing that i don’t even know how to use like he’s someone’s grandpa

James: no luck there

James: and peter was away with his girlfriend for their anniversary

James: so i had to wait till i got a new phone sorted to be able to message you

James: i’m really sorry :(

Mary takes a sip of her hot chocolate and looks somewhat disdainfully at Lily’s phone.

‘Chatty, isn’t he?’ Lily pulls an apologetic face.

‘I promise I won’t text him forever, I’m just… processing. Give me two minutes and I’m with you.’

Lily: I’m out with a friend right now so I can’t chat. But fine, I accept your apology. I’ll call you later and we can talk properly.

James: okay! absolutely no worries. talk to you soon?

Lily: Yes. Talk to you soon. But I’m still angry at you, so you’d better be on your best behaviour.

James: yes ma’am.

Lily clicks her phone shut, and pinches the bridge of her nose.

‘What did he say?’

‘He couldn’t text me because he chucked his phone down the stairs.’

‘Oh?’

‘And I hate to say it but… I buy it. It’s something he’d do.’ Mary humphs, unimpressed.

‘You still want to see him, then?’

‘I- yeah, yeah I do. He’s really… he’s really nice.’

‘Well then. Let’s see how Mr Nice keeps up.’

A few years ago I read this really weird fic. It was endgame Jily so I was really excited about it but then they DIED. And everyone thought Sirius was responsible so he went to jail even though we all know Sirius and James are too codependent for Sirius to have helped in his murder.

Marlene and Mary are mentioned maybe twice, Jegulus never happens and you think that there’s Wolfstar but this Sirius gets killed by BELLATRIX and like a year later Remus marries Andromeda’s daughter! That was weird.

Dorcas, Pandora, and Evan are only briefly mentioned too. That means that there’s no Dorlene which was a nightmare. They let Snape be a teacher which was a horrible idea. Also Regulus is literally drowned and then completely forgotten about which was wild.

Barty is actually in it a bit but most of that is while he’s using poly juice to look like mad-eye? Like babes that’s the guy who killed your bf what were you thinking? Also Barty is mildly evil and kills his dad and he also helps torture Alice and Frank into insanity. So yeah.

It was a next gen fic so the main character was James and Lily’s son.

Overall it was just a bit of a stretch for me

Also Peter was evil.

a phone call

“Sorry, wrong number,” he says.

“You know it isn’t,” she says, exasperated, finger wrapped around the telephone cord. “What’s up?”

“Nothing,” he tells her, when what he’s actually saying—subtext, there are lines and what he says exists inbetween them—is that he just wanted to hear her voice.

“You couldn’t’ve owled me?” she asks. It’s a good question. It’s the right question and the wrong one at once, because she’s wondering if something’s gone wrong and if it has, there’s nothing to be done for it, she’ll be out the front door and away from Petunia, the harsh reality of it is that she’d pick him over everyone.

“Too late for that,” he says, and it’s another time, he knows this whole conversation is going to be him saying things he doesn’t want to say, might as well’ve kept his mouth shut, might as well’ve not called at all. But that’s wrong, too.

“You’re worrying me.”

“Yep,” he says, “sounds right.”

“James.” She grabs the handset and the bloody cord, steals away into the closet. “What’s wrong?” she asks, with the lights off, about the only time she can.

“It’s nothing, Evans,” and she wants to say, I want it to be, because she wants an excuse to see him, to get out of this house.

Where he’s calling her from, she can’t say. Could be a pub, a muggle house, anywhere. She taught him how to use a phone. The pretext of that was so he could call her.

Where he actually is, in a phonebox with the door open, is in the black that’s more blue and bloody cold, stars out. He needs to hear her. The fact is that the world is a wound that’s festering instead of healing. He’s so brilliant he thought he could fix it. Someone he knew went missing the other day and he can’t help but feeling as though he should be able to stop this, somehow. He knew them. He knew them.

She’s there, legs crossed on the worn-out carpet, worrying at the cord, the tangles. “James,” she says, again. What a nice name he has. What a bad world they live in.

“When are you coming back to school?” he asks.

“Same time as you,” she whispers. She doesn’t want her family to hear.

“That’s too long,” he says, “I want to see you now.”

“I know,” she tells him. “We should get a car.”

“Sirius has a bike,” he says, as if that solves all their problems.

“Yes,” she says, simply, “yes, that’s right.” A pause. “But it’s not very convenient with one of us riding pillion and the other in the sidecar.”

“I don’t know how to drive a car.”

“I’ll teach you.”

“You don’t know how to drive a car.”

“My Dad can teach me.”

“Do you think we’ll have time to do all these things?” he says, abruptly, and she thinks, ah, here we are.

“I don’t know,” she says.

“Jack Springleaf went missing and I don’t know where he is.”

“I know.”

“I knew him,” he says.

“I know.”

“Do you ever wish this wasn’t up to us, Evans? That we could walk away from it?”

“Probably.”

“Probably?”

“I mean, yes. I wish none of this was happening to us.”

“Even this? Even you and me?”

“No,” she says, so quickly that she knows she’s given the game away. She’s barely sixteen and knows with perfect clarity that there’s never going to be anyone else for her. She wished she had time to prove herself right. “No, not that.”

“Me either,” he tells her. She can picture him, leaning against the frame, one leg crossed over the other, hand holding the phone to his ear with the other arm tucked firm against his torso. She wishes she was with him right now.

“When will I see you?” he asks, like they can pretend for a second that they haven’t spent this big gap of time apart, like they live on the same street and he could see her tomorrow if he wanted to, like they’re not going to have to wait another month.

“Maybe tomorrow,” she says. What if she could?

“Mmm,” she can hear him breaking on the other line, “no good.”

“How about next week?” She’s near to crying now.

“Wednesday?”

“Wednesday,” she tells him.

He sighs. “I’ll see you in September, Evans.”

She leans into the coats, musty smelling and pilly, thinks she could fall all the way to Narnia if she wanted, when she was little she used to close her eyes against the absolute darkness and wait for something to happen, even when it got too hot. “See you then, Potter,” she tells him. He swallows.

The line goes dead.

JILY!!