ferocious liquid

"Fucking weather." She muttered under her breath as she made way towards the castle, her arms wrapped around herself as she attempted to shelter her skin from the biting wind.

"There’s mistletoe over almost every doorway in the castle! I just think it’s way too much!"

But really, what would have been the fun in that?

"Oh, I much prefer the idea of you taking off your muddy one and wandering the corridors," James quips, his usual mischievous smirk making a triumphant return.

     "Tell me, do you r e a l l y expect to gain my affections -- Christ I sound like a Jane Austen novel -- by saying things like that? DO you realize that's it's not only rude to say -- but also it makes me a tad uncomfortable? In fact, do you even think before you say those sort of things? Actually, I don't even think you need to answer that. It's no. Always no. " 

   » ♕ « —— I really don’t think it’s going to make any difference. Then everyone will laugh at you. But if you want to have a go, then by all means.. I’ll hand it off to you next time. It’s all yours.

F A N C Y || Four girls who refused to live every day as anything but their last. They are the wild youth with their breath leaving a swift scent of whiskey. & they call them the Gryffin Gals. 

i. i love it - icona pop ★ ii. fancy - iggy azalea ★ iii. burn - ellie goulding ★ iv. lock you up - charlie xcx ★ v. fineshrine - purity ring ★ vi. shooting arrows at the sky - santigold ★ vii. i love you so - cassius ★ viii. right thing to do - SBTRKT ★ ix. home - edward sharpe and the magnetic zeros (RAC mix)

░♘♚♘░ ~~~

     The words on the page twisted together and formed incoherent sentences that he      could just barely grasp the meaning of. This grade was quite possibly one of the      most important of the year and he couldn’t even understand the damned subject      of History of Magic. If his temperament wasn’t exposed as it was in the library,      Rabastan may have thrown the textbook he was attempting to read across the      room. Instead he succumbed to the only thing he knew how to do in a public      area       slam the thing down on the table and press a palm to his head.

                                            ❝     Fuck,❞ was all that he was really capable of saying.

     [ It was the slam of a book that jolted Lily Evans from the trance like state she was in. Studying. While Lily was quite possibly the best student in her year, studying took a toll on her at times. Sitting in the library hours on end, hoping the words in front of her would hopefully make some sort of sense. Lily was good at Transfiguration in theory but certainly not in practice which inevitably hung over her head while she tried to work. She needed a break, or to just burn the bloody book that was driving her i n s a n e. If she couldn't do this stupid Transfiguration coursework, she might as well help someone else. That someone else she was about to offer her help to? Rabastan Lestrange -- someone she only knew by name. His repuation preceeded him though, at least his brother's did, and while she knew it was not fair to judge someone based on their family as well as their house -- the Slytherin tie was something she was very very aware of -- she still did. Family was family, and while she hoped she wasn't likened to Petunia ever, they were still sisters. That counted for something. ]

                              ❝ Would you like some help?❞

"I am cleaning it, Evans. With a spell, because believe it or not I could figure that out on my own,” he rolls his eyes, but his tone is playful. He still feels like he has a head-rush from catching Lily looking at him. “And I apologize for not constantly walking around with a spare shirt, but if I did we wouldn’t be having this simply charming conversation. So I, for one, couldn’t be happier for overlooking it.” He grins - a genuine, eye-sparkling, couldn’t-be-happier grin, and the difference between that and his smug one of earlier couldn’t be more apparent.

     "I don't really care if we did or not, It's not like I'm so off the beaten path, you realize? You sort of, I don't know, strut everywhere else you go. There's not much of a difference between strutting and gallivanting. " Lily rolled her eyes at James for what felt like the millionth time she had in their school career and sighed. At this rate, her eyes would surely end up sticking that way. "Thank you." It was a reluctant thank you, but a thank you nonethless.

     Lily took a deep breath. It was obvious that she was being too harsh and at that point she finally realized it. James, no matter what he did, was one of the only people (if not the only person) who could rile her up by simply breathing. Looking at his grin, which seemed to be genuine, caught her off guard and her expression softened from the pointed one it was before. 

"—Plant related puns?" she repeated in amusement. "Wonder if they drive McGonagall at all batty…or if they actually get her to crack a smile. You never know with that one." She eyed the mistletoe suspiciously again, before replying, "Well, damn. There goes my life goal of effectively convincing a Christmas decoration that sexual orientation can be fluid. Always ruining my fun, Lily. …Still, I remember that during my third year someone charmed the mistletoe branch in the corridors to trap one person underneath it. They couldn’t move till someone else took pity on them, moved underneath the mistletoe as well, and kissed them. S’pose it wouldn’t kill us if that ended up happening with this one, though.” Shrugging, she cautiously stepped underneath the doorway, took another step forward into the greenhouse…and nothing.

          "Yes, plant related puns are an acquired taste. But, I'm guessing it gets her to laugh I mean, it's sort of a harmless joke. Except, if it's mean against the plants at times." Once again, Lily giggled at Mary's response. "I know, I know, I am the p a t r o n  s a i n t of killing fun. Ask anyone." she quipped. 

— 〆 for a childhood story — ღ for a drabble about a romance/their love life — ⌆ for a story about their family/home life — € for a bad memory that still haunts them — ✢ for a good memory that makes them smile

Or…