Parisienne et dessinatrice / Parisian and illustrator /// for more illustration follow my Instagram https:/www.istagram.com/constancezin1 and https:/www.istagram.com/constancezin2
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Try as she might, Lily couldn’t bring herself to care about the masquerade. It was sure to be a fabulous spectacle, but lately it had all felt like something she watched through a spotty window pane, a thick veil, something that was real and yet not real to her. Not in a way that could touch her. No whining trombone could shake her into a fit of excitement.
Boring as she might sound, an evening in was the best reward. And a Roaring Twenties bash on campus sucked away time from her favored activities – the ones that actually relaxed her – of reading or lounging on the sofa eating Nutella and apples while Nick whined from the ottoman. Nick never believed he got his share - apples only of course. One bite for her, three bites for him, that was fair in his wide, pleading, puppy eyes.
Aside from the fact that it would take up entirely too much of her time and stress her more than deadlines on her thesis, she’d spend the entire evening somehow both bored and in fight or flight mode. Not that she can’t have a good time with others – its just if she’s in the mood for a trip back in time, she prefers a good episode of Miss Fisher or a bit of investigation with good old Agatha…maybe she needs murder relax?
Regardless, trying to find an authentic costume that fits, buying a ticket, and the lead up and the recoup. Too too much even if Marlene calls her an old lady. She’s decided it’s a compliment. Old ladies know what they do and don’t want and they aren’t afraid to speak up about it.
And what does Lily want? Cheeseburger and loaded chips.
And what is Lily too cheap to order with the added delivery charge? You guessed it.
So she gives Nick a last bit of apple which he crunches with relish before she tucks the Nutella back in the cupboard, notes the bareness of it overall, and decides she’s definitely motivated enough to brave the elements in pursuit of a burger.
Nick eyes her distrustfully as she moves about the flat, readying to brave the streets in pursuit of greasy deliciousness. She can’t bring herself to resist the look today, so when she’s pulling on her trainers she locks eyes with him. “Nick would you - ,” she pauses as his ears perk, “Like to go out?”
A question which, as expected, instigates a bout of the zoomies for the record books. When he skids to a halt at her feet, little chest heaving, Lily leans down and gives him a peck on the head. “Let's get you ready to go.”
It’s not far, they put a bit of avocado on her burger so she feels healthy, and they have little pup burgers too. She only gets one for Nick on special occasions, or when he looks particularly cute. Which is a very official, almost scientific determination.
It’s not too dark yet, thanks to the longer summer days, and so she and Nick enjoy a quick walk a few blocks down chit chatting about how delicious their snack is going to be. When she mentions the ‘pup burger’ by name, he licks his chops and tightens up his little walk. He’d run if she let him.
Soon enough, the bell is jangling over the door and Nick is leading the way to the queue. There’s another customer in line and Nick definitely wants to sniff his sneakers, but he’s a good boy, so one short tug at his lead and he’s sitting close to her side with his nostrils flaring in interest.
While she’s mid internal debate about a milkshake splurge, the customer in front of her turns around and she’s briefly bewildered by his annoyingly attractive face. Which gets more annoying when he grins at her and then turns the smile toward Nick. “Who is this little cutie?”
Her precious little boy looks at her as if to say ‘well, introduce me,’ so she smiles, “Nick.”
“Has Nick tried the pup burgers here?”
As if in an attempt to answer, Nick lets out a little squeak and squares his stance. Like standing more perfectly will impact Lily’s answer.
“That’s actually half of our mission here. I can’t bring him here unless he’s getting something too.”
“Quite cruel if you do,” the lovely stranger says with a chuckle, “Could I treat the little gent to his supper?”
“A bit forward of you.”
“He’s the one bearing his undercarriage for pets,” the stranger shoots back, squatting down to scratch at Nick’s belly. “How’d you like a pup burger, mate?”
As if in answer, Nick flops his tongue out and bats one paw miming more pets. Nick’s new best mate grins up at Lily, “I think he says ‘yes’.”
“So much for ‘loyalty of a fine dog’,” Lily grumbles as she fights a smile, “Now if you two lovebirds could place your order I’m still famished and no closer to satisfaction.”
“Can I take care of that too?”
Lily nearly chokes on her own tongue as the disgustingly good-looking, generous, good with dogs bloke stands up, waiting for her response.
But she’s no push over, even before Adonis himself, so she leans in close, “No, I don’t know that you can.”
He deflates a bit, but before he can back away, she grabs his lapel, “Not without a name.”
While the increased proximity to James makes it difficult to screw her head back on straight, it helps to have something else to focus on. She'd been so miserable in Cokeworth that, aside from arguing with her mum, sister, and Vernon, she feels like all she did was think about James or write letters to him.
Classes start on the Monday immediately after they return, and Lily commits herself to focusing.
Her plan is derailed almost immediately when James and his mates sit down beside her and Mary at breakfast.
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Written for @jilymicrofics
Prompt: Wink
Word Count: 491
From his vantage points in the shadows of castle corridors, hidden passageways, and behind enchanted tapestries, Wipple had watched countless relationships unfold over the years.
Students became friends. Friends became sweethearts. Sweethearts became bitter enemies.
Enemies occasionally became sweethearts.
Yet no relationship had ever confounded him quite as much as that between Mr. Potter and Miss Evans.
To Wipple's eyes, they had a great deal in common. Both were unusually polite to the house-elves. They possessed a highly creative interpretation of school rules and they displayed an alarming willingness to hex, punch, or otherwise attack individuals they believed deserved it.
By all reasonable measures, they should have gotten along splendidly.
Instead, they seemed to alternate unpredictably between friendship and hostility.
One week they would be arguing loudly in a corridor. The next they would be laughing together. Then they would ignore one another entirely.
It was deeply confusing.
Then, several weeks ago, something had changed.
Mr. Potter and Miss Evans had emerged from the library together and proceeded down the corridor toward Gryffindor Tower. They had been talking the entire time, exchanging jokes and teasing remarks.
Most remarkably, neither had attempted to insult the other.
Wipple had been so surprised that he nearly walked into a suit of armor.
When they reached the portrait hole, Miss Evans turned toward Potter.
"You know," she said, a mischievous smile tugging at the corner of her mouth, "you're much more tolerable than I was led to believe."
Potter placed a hand over his heart.
"Evans, that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me."
"Don't let it go to your head."
"No promises."
She laughed softly.
"Good night, Potter."
"Good night, Evans."
She took a step toward the portrait hole, then paused.
"Oh, and Potter?"
"Yeah?"
"If you keep looking at me like that, people might start to think you have a crush on me."
Before Potter could form anything resembling a coherent response, Lily gave him a wink.
Just once. A tiny movement. Nothing more.
Miss Evans climbed through the portrait hole and disappeared. Mr. Potter remained standing in the corridor.
Completely motionless. His expression suggested that every coherent thought had abruptly abandoned him. Wipple had honestly wondered whether the boy required medical attention. Several minutes passed before Potter finally stumbled away, still looking thoroughly stunned.
Wipple never learned what transpired between them in the days that followed. What he did know was that shortly afterward, both students began appearing in the kitchens.
Separately and frequently.
Mr. Potter would sit at one table staring into space.
Miss Evans would appear on a different evening and do exactly the same thing.
Both seemed thoroughly miserable. And Wipple could not for the life of him understand why.
He had witnessed the entire incident.
There had been no shouting.
No dueling.
No crying.
Just one wink.
Yet somehow that single wink appeared to have triggered enough emotional turmoil to power the entire castle for a month.
Written for @jilymicrofics
Prompt: Creature
Word Count: 582
All house-elves were supposed to perform their work unseen by the wizarding population. It was no easy task in a castle filled with hundreds of people wandering its corridors at all hours, which was why most house-elves did their work at night.
The arrangement had given many wizards the mistaken impression that house-elves were nocturnal creatures. They were not. Night simply offered the greatest opportunity to work without being observed.
Wipple was particularly skilled at navigating Hogwarts' maze of tunnels, secret passages, and hidden shortcuts. As a result, whenever the Office of House-Elf Relocation assigned a new elf to the school, it was Wipple's responsibility to guide them through the castle and teach them how to move about unnoticed.
It also meant that Wipple witnessed far more than most elves.
He saw students sneaking from their dormitories after curfew. He observed clandestine meetings, illicit study sessions, secret duels, and romantic rendezvous. He overheard whispered gossip, dramatic confessions, and elaborate schemes shared by students who assumed no one was listening.
The students rarely noticed him. It gave Wipple a great advantage in observing and learning about wizard behavior, studying the species up close without them knowing.
"Hello, Wipple."
Wipple looked up to find Mr. Potter stepping into the passageway ahead. Unfortunately, Mr. Potter was not most students.
Wipple had long ago abandoned any attempt to hide from Potter and his friends during his nightly rounds. If he stopped to conceal himself every time one of them appeared, he would never accomplish any work. They seemed to spend almost as much time wandering the castle after curfew as they did attending classes.
"That's a rather large pile of laundry you've got there," Potter said, eyeing the stack balanced in Wipple's arms. "Need a hand taking it to the wash?"
"No, Mr. Potter," Wipple replied. "Wipple can manage."
"Of course you can," Potter said cheerfully. "But I'm happy to help if you need it."
As always, Wipple found himself unsure how to respond.
Mr. Potter was not like the other pure-blood students Wipple had encountered during his years at Hogwarts. Most barely acknowledged the existence of house-elves. Some ignored them entirely. A few shouted at them. Others treated them like pieces of furniture that happened to move on their own.
Potter, meanwhile, greeted elves by name. He asked how they were doing. He thanked them for their work. He spoke to them as though they were people.
Wipple did not know what to make of it.
Surely Potter understood the natural order of things. Every wizard child learned that house-elves existed to serve wizarding families. Yet Potter behaved as though that distinction did not matter.
At times, Wipple wondered whether Potter was playing some elaborate joke that only he understood.
Yet if it was mockery, it was a remarkably committed one.
Potter had somehow convinced Mr. Black—who was far more distant with the elves than Potter himself—to learn the names of every elf they encountered. On one memorable occasion, the pair had personally escorted a frightened young elf, newly assigned to Hogwarts, all the way back to the house-elf quarters after she became lost.
How they had discovered where the elves lived remained a mystery that continued to trouble Wipple. Most wizards never gave a single thought to where house-elves went when they were not serving meals or cleaning rooms.
Potter had apparently investigated.
Yes, Wipple decided as he watched the young wizard disappear down the corridor.
A/N: Excited for these microfics. Hoping the muse sticks with me haha. Thank you for organizing @jilymicrofics!! <3
---
“It bewitches the mind…esnares the senses…”
“Isn’t that Polyjuice?”
“Amortentia you dunces,” James groans, grabbing Lily’s hand before she can wander off the path again, “And you have drunk neither. You’re just a couple of ijits who decided firewhiskey and the Forbidden Forest make a perfect pair.”
“Hey – Jemmy,” Sirius hisses in what he clearly believes is a whisper, “Let the whiskey liberate your inner mischief manager.”
“I’m clearly already a class A mischief manager,” James grumbles, hooking a finger in Sirius’ nearest belt loop and tugging him in. Hopefully they either purged before he got here or he’ll at least have Remus on assist when they get back to the tower.
Lily leans against his shoulder, which really shouldn’t make his heart thud while she’s honestly being a bit of a prat, but it does and he’s probably more of an idiot than either of the drunken asses he is currently herding toward the castle.
While he briefly considers whether doing this as Prongs would be either A) more enjoyable or B) more effective, Lily grasps his tie and nuzzles a little too close for his sanity. “Ja-,” she clears her throat and puts on her best prefect impression, “James, I ‘m not an ‘ijit.’”
She sniffs, a bit haughty in a way that normally is quite effective as an intimidation tactic, at least it is when she can walk in a straight line, “I am ‘s a matter of fact, an ‘eggselent potioneer.’”Sirius stumbles back into James’ side and wraps his arms around James’. “Sluggy said it.”
COMPLETE! Lily walked up to the North Tower on her first day in 6th year expecting to learn a little about the Inner Eye & a lot about baseless superstition. Instead she finds herself learning more than she wanted to know about one James Potter & herself.
Written for @jilymicrofics
Prompt: Liberation
Word Count: 426
The Hogwarts house-elves were not accustomed to visitors in the kitchens.
Occasionally, a professor would wander in for a late-night snack, or a student would accidentally stumble through while searching for a bathroom or a secret passage. Those visits were brief and infrequent.
What the elves were not prepared for was the steady invasion of two particular students who, entirely independently of one another, had decided that the kitchens were the perfect place to hide, mope, and wallow in their feelings.
"Now, Tipsy," said Giggy, scrubbing a cauldron with far more force than necessary, "Giggy is not one for talkings of liberation, but if Miss Evans and Mr. Potter is coming down here for one more evening of sighing and staring into space, Giggy shall knit himself a sweater and be leaving."
"Don't be saying such awful things!" Tipsy squeaked, swatting him with a drying cloth. "Tipsy does not like hearing about elves leaving!"
Wipple looked up from the sink where he was polishing goblets.
"Perhaps," he said thoughtfully, "it is not the elves who is needing liberation."
The kitchen fell silent.
"Then who is?" asked Tipsy.
"Mr. Potter and Miss Evans, of course," said Wipple. "They is trapping themselves in a terrible prison of feelings."
"A prison of feelings?" Giggy repeated.
Wipple nodded gravely.
"Mr. Potter sits at that table and sighs."
"He does sigh very loudly," another elf agreed.
"And Miss Evans comes down two hours later and sighs at the very same table."
"Sometimes at the same spot," whispered Tipsy.
"Exactly," said Wipple. "They is both believing their love is unreturned, when any elf with eyes can see different."
A murmur of agreement spread through the kitchen.
"It is making the soup taste sad," one elf complained.
"And the bread," another added.
"The whole kitchen is suffering," said Giggy solemnly.
"So Wipple thinks we should help them."
Tipsy's eyes widened.
"Help them?"
"Help them see what every elf in Hogwarts already knows," Wipple said. "Then they can be courting each other somewhere that is not the kitchens."
"Oh!" Tipsy clasped her hands together. "That would be a wonderful service."
"It would be a great service," Giggy agreed. "House-elves serves Hogwarts, and Hogwarts would be much happier if those two stopped moping near the pastry shelves."
"Hear, hear!" cried several elves.
Wipple straightened proudly.
"Then it is decided. Operation Liberate Mr. Potter and Miss Evans shall begin at once."
"And when they is finally together," Giggy declared, raising a wooden spoon like a sword, "the kitchens shall know peace again."
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“Marley was very quick to let me know you’re single after showing me several interesting photos of you." James smiled faintly, clearly enjoying the moment far too much. “I was wondering how committed that 'single' label is for you.”
“Don’t start,” Lily immediately pointed a warning finger at him. “This is just a custody exchange.”
James raised both hands in exaggerated innocence. “Custody exchange implies you want something out of this relationship.”
“Your dog,” Lily shot back, “I didn’t mean you, you arrogant prick.”
“You absolutely did.” James shrugged, entirely unfazed.
“You’re truly the most arrogant bloke I’ve met,” Lily informed him, trying to deflect.
“So I’ve been told,” James replied cheerfully as his gaze drifted over her again—slow, deliberate, and completely unapologetic. “But I can tell you like being checked out as much as I enjoyed watching you steal my dog in the park,” he added lightly. “So what does that make you? Vain? Egotistical? A pet thief?”
Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 💗
Hi love bug!!! I hope you're having a magical weekend.
Ugh, truthfully, these asks are so hard to answer. Anyone else have a hard time picking? I alwayssssss change my mind!
The Prophet's Journal
Summary
Lily liked to believe (no, she insisted) that she could handle the visions. That if she just stayed calm and clever enough, she could outwit fate like it was an overdramatic entry in her diary, not a prophet's fable.
The trouble was, fate didn’t seem particularly interested in being rewritten.
And Lily (undoubtedly brilliant, historically stubborn, and slightly sleep-deprived) was both a Seer and a Muggleborn in her sixth year at Hogwarts. She sees it as a cursed combination, really, when all she wants is to kiss some cute boys, become Head Girl next year, and hold her friendships together without worrying she might someday dream of them all dying under her forced gaze.
It was all a bit much for a girl who also kept having visions about snogging a certain boy with messy black hair.
Smutty Saturday: The Animagus Factor
Summary
After a long week as Prongs, James is struggling with the lasting side effects of being a hormonal teenager. Sharing his body with a rutting Stag certainly doesn’t help his case. As a result, his girlfriend gets really lucky thanks to her perfume that has been spiraling him into utter madness.
All smut, little plot, for team sin on tumblr ♥️
Haircut
Summary
James cuts his hair. Lily has a midlife crisis at seventeen because of it. Based on the cutest comic done by my muse and favourite human on earth @constancezin
The Golden Globes Incident
Summary
James Potter cannot get a decent interview in with Lily Evans. It's mostly because any time they get together it's all banter and wit, which leaves the couple no time for seriousness.
one shot.
@victoria8719 on Tumblr asked me to re-create the Andrew Garfield interview at the golden globes but with jily, and this is the result.
Love Potion
Summary
Prompt: “I think you’re severely underestimating how long I’ve waited for this.” Written for @clare-with-no-i
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