1 year ago
8 notes
1 year ago
26 notes
captain—jamespotter:

It’s the heat of her touch, the gentle brush of her lips. It’s the way her skin feels under his hands, her hair between his fingers. It’s her sweet perfume as he breathes her in, his lips pressed to the sensitive skin of her neck. It’s the sensual motion of her hips as her body rolls beneath his. Their isn’t a speck of room between them, yet still he longs to be closer, needs to have her in the most intimate way there is. And she complies as she glides her hands down his sides and back up from under his shirt, pulling it over his head and tossing it away like the useless piece of fabric it is. She boldly tugs at the clasp on his trousers. He leans back enough to slip each of the buttons on her shirt out of place gently, letting his fingers brush milky, smooth skin with each opening until there is none left and it falls off, instantly forgotten.
This is the kind of sin that is so sweet, so desirable that neither cares to think about where they are or what would happen if someone walked in. They are essentially so wrapped up in one another that the rest of the world could implode on itself, and that would be okay - because they died as one. “Lily,” he breaths, and it is remarkable. The gravity that such a name can hold, the effect a simple combination of four letters can have. The name itself is so dainty and girly, but powerful and strong. It is her identity. She is not a lily. She is Lily.
“James,” in return, is mind blowing, but why? It is just his name. But maybe not. Maybe it is his identity too. Biblical to an extent, royal to another. Its meaning is “he who supplants; prankster.” It is fitting, he supposes but not so right for him as hers for her. He does not think so anyway.
Later, red cascades across crimson pillows. Pearl atop white sheets. Green into hazel. Nail marks atop old scars. Steady fingertips trail down her body, feeling cold the moment they disconnected from her flushed skin. He rips his gaze from hers and that is how it really feels. Like tearing something from the place it really belongs. Those same eyes devour her every inch. They follow his fingers all the way down and back up to where they trace her jaw, her cheekbones, the slight smile on her lips, and her closed eyelids. Once upon a time, she had been a dream. And now she is nothing but reality, sometimes the only one in such a harsh world. So they make a fantasy one, built only for them two. She opens her eyes as if reading his thoughts and reaches up, putting her hand on his face. He smiles down at her, all white teeth. “I hope you know,” he says, his voice low so as not to disturb the silence. “I’m never going to be able to look at you in public ever again.”
Her laughter surrounds him, and they kiss, instantaneously opening the door for more indescribable, toxic pleasure. It’s the heat of her touch, the gentle brush of her lips. It’s the way her skin feels under his hands, her hair between his fingers. It’s her sweet perfume as he breathes her in, his lips pressed to the sensitive skin of her neck. It’s the sensual motion of her hips as her body rolls beneath his…

captain—jamespotter:

It’s the heat of her touch, the gentle brush of her lips. It’s the way her skin feels under his hands, her hair between his fingers. It’s her sweet perfume as he breathes her in, his lips pressed to the sensitive skin of her neck. It’s the sensual motion of her hips as her body rolls beneath his. Their isn’t a speck of room between them, yet still he longs to be closer, needs to have her in the most intimate way there is. And she complies as she glides her hands down his sides and back up from under his shirt, pulling it over his head and tossing it away like the useless piece of fabric it is. She boldly tugs at the clasp on his trousers. He leans back enough to slip each of the buttons on her shirt out of place gently, letting his fingers brush milky, smooth skin with each opening until there is none left and it falls off, instantly forgotten.

This is the kind of sin that is so sweet, so desirable that neither cares to think about where they are or what would happen if someone walked in. They are essentially so wrapped up in one another that the rest of the world could implode on itself, and that would be okay - because they died as one. “Lily,” he breaths, and it is remarkable. The gravity that such a name can hold, the effect a simple combination of four letters can have. The name itself is so dainty and girly, but powerful and strong. It is her identity. She is not a lily. She is Lily.

James,” in return, is mind blowing, but why? It is just his name. But maybe not. Maybe it is his identity too. Biblical to an extent, royal to another. Its meaning is “he who supplants; prankster.” It is fitting, he supposes but not so right for him as hers for her. He does not think so anyway.

Later, red cascades across crimson pillows. Pearl atop white sheets. Green into hazel. Nail marks atop old scars. Steady fingertips trail down her body, feeling cold the moment they disconnected from her flushed skin. He rips his gaze from hers and that is how it really feels. Like tearing something from the place it really belongs. Those same eyes devour her every inch. They follow his fingers all the way down and back up to where they trace her jaw, her cheekbones, the slight smile on her lips, and her closed eyelids. Once upon a time, she had been a dream. And now she is nothing but reality, sometimes the only one in such a harsh world. So they make a fantasy one, built only for them two. She opens her eyes as if reading his thoughts and reaches up, putting her hand on his face. He smiles down at her, all white teeth. “I hope you know,” he says, his voice low so as not to disturb the silence. “I’m never going to be able to look at you in public ever again.”

Her laughter surrounds him, and they kiss, instantaneously opening the door for more indescribable, toxic pleasure. It’s the heat of her touch, the gentle brush of her lips. It’s the way her skin feels under his hands, her hair between his fingers. It’s her sweet perfume as he breathes her in, his lips pressed to the sensitive skin of her neck. It’s the sensual motion of her hips as her body rolls beneath his…

1 year ago
7 notes
the-lioness-marlene:

pyrrhic victory /ˈpɪrɪk/ n.

A victory that is offset by staggering losses

the-lioness-marlene:

pyrrhic victory /ˈpɪrɪk/ n.

A victory that is offset by staggering losses

1 year ago
6 notes

Lily, Marlene and Mary, a bit too intoxicated.
Taken by an equally intoxicated Emmeline Vance

Lily, Marlene and Mary, a bit too intoxicated.

Taken by an equally intoxicated Emmeline Vance

1 year ago
6 notes
1 year ago
6 notes
1 year ago
15 notes

Cupid’s Got Me in a Chokehold || Jamily

captain—jamespotter:

“Don’t reassure me,” he spat before he could stop himself. There was a moment of surprise at his own outburst, but then he straightened up, his face turning into it’s old mask of calm. He hadn’t been able to pull that blank recognition off in almost a year. His level of self-respect had become so disgustingly low, it actually made him cringe. James had never been in doubt of his self worth. He was confident, his talents were solid and for years that had been the one truly unbreakable thing about him. To have it so thoroughly torn to shreds left him in a state of dismay. The only thing that wasn’t surprising was the fact that it was himself that finally did him in. People used to try all the time, Lily in particular, to deflate his ego, but none ever had. It made perfect sense that he took himself down a peg. He did everything else on his own, so why not that?

“Oh, that makes sense, doesn’t it?” He said aloud, though clearly only being thoughtful. The Marauder’s were leaders. Maybe not in the respectable way that Lily Evans was a leader, but people listened to them. When the Marauders spoke, people heard. Leave it to Dumbledore to take a nuisance and make it useful. James gave a reminiscent laugh when she swatted his hand out of her face. Well, at least it was good to know they were back to some semblance of normal between them. It struck him silent for a moment as he realized how much he had missed her. Their arguments were infamous, but a lesser known fact was their ability to turn the most simple conversations into something deep and revealing, or even the fact that they did joke and cut up more often than any onlooker would believe. He loved it as much as he hated it, which wasn’t surprising seeing as Lily had always been that in his mind. And then she started going on about head plans and he just about zoned out. When she finished, he blinked a few times before giving her a roguish grin. “Evans, you talk like I’ve got any idea what you’re on about.” He cast his arms over the back of the couch and stretched his legs out. “We can talk about Hogsmeade trips though.”

Something pulled at the back of his mind, a memory. He frowned at it, wondering what he was missing, but then he snorted as it dawned on him. “Will you go out with me? I’m kidding. I’m thinking about Archie.” And then he smirked, because the innuendo hung between them and he just waited, completely patience, for her to take a crack at it. He was thinking about Archie though. Not for himself, of course, but for his current preoccupation with Hogsmeade and what awaited him here. James was just looking out. He had always liked Archie for all his quirks and strangeness. And it was good to see him as happy as he was when Rosie was around. James would’ve liked to prolong it a bit, for their sakes. “There were only a few last year, not that it mattered to me, but I think we should have more this year. At least twice a month, I say.”

After James’ unexpected reaction to what must have been an extremely lackluster pep talk on her part, Lily could not help but sit back in surprise and, admittedly, slight embarrassment. She was only trying to help. She didn’t have to be nice to him, she didn’t have to make an effort to instill some confidence in him, but she did. And what had come of it? Only offense, apparently, and she was sure some resentment too. “Fine,” Lily said. It hadn’t taken long for her initial shock to wear off and be replaced with pursed lips and folded arms. “Fine, I won’t, you ungrateful, miserable, oaf. See if I ever say another nice thing to you again.” If James didn’t want to hear it, Lily did not want to say it. There was no point. His fate was in his own hands now, not in her wasted words - although, despite her threat, she fully intended to continue wasting them.

Groaning, Lily let her head fall to the back of the couch, and she took a moment to glare miserably at the ceiling above. “Of course you don’t understand. Dumbledore really did partner me with a bungling bonehead, didn’t he?” She angled her head so that she was facing James and sighed. No, not a bungling bonehead, she reminded herself. Just someone who was new to the job. Which, again, called into question why James was chosen in the first place. Lily had her theories, most of which consisted of Dumbledore trying to undermine the issue of blood purity by using James and Lily, a pureblood and a muggleborn as well as two of the brightest students in the school, as an example of the two races working together in peace and harmony, but those theories also brought up the issue of Dumbledore’s lacking attentiveness and, more importantly, his lacking sanity. James and Lily could work well together, sure, but as far as she could tell, they were still standing on rocky ground, which hinted at a rather bumpy road ahead. Putting the two of them together right now was not exactly the wisest of choices, Lily believed. Couldn’t their headmaster see that as well, or was he not as invested in their personal lives as she once thought he was?

"Alright, alright. we’ll discuss Hogsmeade, then," Lily conceded. "I think we should cut back on- excuse me?” She was quickly on the defense, straightening her posture and regarding him with a look of uneasiness. She was absolutely not in the mood to play the will-you-go-out-with-me game at that moment, especially since she was hoping to repair what was left of their damaged friendship, and even more so because he was in a relationshipFortunately though, James had covered his tracks with Archie as an excuse before Lily could even properly scowl at him. Instead, she raised her eyebrows suggestively and offered him a furtive smile. “Archie? Is that who you’re pestering for dates nowadays? Well I hate to break it to you, Potter, but I think Archie would rather lick Filch’s dirty toes than go out with the likes of you.” She grinned good-naturedly,  then settled back into the cushions, a bit more at ease, and laughed at his next suggestion. “Twice a month? As much as I would like to agree with you, I don’t think so. Too many days off. How about once every other-” Then it occurred to her what James was getting at. Why else would he mention Archie during a conversation about Hogsmeade? “Oh, I know what you’re trying to do.”

1 year ago
66 notes

thearchivesofgallifrey:

“Something to always keep in mind.”

1 year ago
173 notes
Track: Unknown(You Drive Me) Crazy
Artist: UnknownBritney Spears
Album: Unknown(You Drive Me) Crazy (The Stop Remix!)
Played: 1473 times

whatbrodysaidtoday:

(You Drive Me) Crazy (The Stop Remix) | Britney Spears

You drive me crazy 
I just can’t sleep 
I’m so excited, I’m in too deep 
1 year ago
21 notes

the-lioness-marlene:

Marlene had wanted to tell Lily. And Mary too. She was ashamed that she’d thought her friends were liars or were mistaken. But also she didn’t know how. “Hi, sorry you were right I was wrong. James was on drugs only he’s off them now because I told his mum.” She tried writing it but had given up. She’d left the house a couple times only to turn around and come back. She sighed. “I didn’t think it was possible. I mean, James is no saint. But I didn’t think he would hit that low. Stupid me, I know.” She gave Lily a small smile.

No, not stupid you. It’s like being told the Easter Bunny is really the Italian prime minister or that Dumbledore was arrested for conducting a Ponzi scheme. You aren’t going to believe those things unless they’re proven true, and you didn’t believe such a ludicrous accusation against James until you had the proof in your hands. So, yeah, maybe you were being naive and you were blind to it all, but I understand why, and it’s not because you’re stupid.

© T H E M E