Based on something by the wonderfully talented apalapucian but naturally this got away from me and now I’m one giant mess please send help.
James Potter. Eleven. Dirty Fingernails. Cannot be bothered to deal with his hair. His Dad is the best person on earth. Goes to a lot of fancy brunches. Has a scab on his left knee. Fell out of that tree in his yard and broke a tooth. Likes chicken. Counts ceiling tiles. Cannot wait to be able to do magic. Sick of adults telling him he is cute. Wants to go to school so bad it aches. Hates caldron cakes. Loves flying. Doesn’t know what an oven does. Is a little bit lonely. Likes Sirius Black. Thinks his new bed is comfy. Likes Remus Lupin. Likes Peter Pettigrew. Does not like Snivelius. Is undecided about Evans. Stays up to late. Smiles at the girls. Keeps losing his quill. Forgot about his owl for three months one time. Can’t write long letters. That was NOT his fault. Knows the answer. Thinks school is the best place on earth.
James Potter. Twelve. Starts the occasional food fight. Nearly broken his wand thirteen times. Is bad at puns. Pushed Sirius into the Lake once. Laughed until he almost threw up. Wants to know what’s up with Remus. Hates apples. Likes Peter’s last name. Sits at the back. Knows all the teachers. Tried to high-five McGonagall and she turned his hand into a rabbit puppet. Will get on the house Quiditch team even if it kills him. Thinks Dumbledore’s bloody mad. Likes him a lot for it. Drinks a ton of water. Likes teasing the girls. Snivellus is stupid. Evans is stupid for thinking Snivellus is not. Knows what’s up with Remus. Is going to help. Calls McGonagall ‘Kitty’. Learns how to throw a punch. Is actually quite good at it. Slytherins are shit heads. Loves his best mates a lot. Do not tell them he said that.
James Potter. Thirteen. Is a little taller. Still has weird hair. Drunk fire whiskey in the bathroom while skipping charms. Kissed Ella Monroe under the fourth staircase. Painted his dormitory wall. Do not tell Kitty. Only hit that guy because he deserved it. Does not understand Lily Evans at all. A show off. His Dad wasn’t around much this summer. Ate a whole cake on a dare. Remus won’t let him copy the homework. Peter needs to stop bloody humming. Read that bit in the paper about those people and felt his stomach drop. Robes constantly dirty. Sets a school record and scores thirty-nine shots in one game. Is really good with names. Lily Evans is bloody nuts. Hates Sirius’s family. Moves his feet a lot. Thick eyelashes. Has he mentioned yet that Lily Evans is fucking insane?
James Potter. Fourteen. A lot taller. Doesn’t swear in front of his Mother. Wonders where his Dad keeps going. Sirius DOES NOT have better hair. Runs in the morning. Freckles. Is always bloody late. Smells like soap and cigarettes. Of course he wasn’t SMOKING by the GREENHOUSES don’t be RIDICULOUS Professor. Is so messy it drives Peter insane. Thinks Lily Evans is pretty. Hates the wind. Snowball fights. Screaming off the top of the Astronomy tower. Wore high heels one time. It was Sirius’s idea. Snivellus is not good for Evans. Is really good at telling stories. Always finding random shit in his pockets. Once saw his Dad come in at three a.m. on a Tuesday. Is always hungry now. Robes don’t fit. Briana. Kelly. Ariana. Lucille. Beth. Needs to break up with Lydia tomorrow. Flying. Is not scared of that name. Holy shit Lily Evans is really pretty what the fuck. Likes Lily Evans
James Potter. Fifteen. Has a lower voice. Planned that party in the common room. Likes the rain. Can turn into a stAG HOLY FUCK SIRIUS IT WORKED. Always cracking his knuckles. Lily Evans has hair like the sun spat at her. Licks the lollipops. Steals food off Remus’s plate. Tired after full moons. Was not sleeping during detention. Snivellus is an embarrassment. Is a little bit worried about his O.W.L.S. Has nice lips. Slept with Matilda Savage. Forgets to dot his ‘I’s all the time. Did not mean to make him say it. Does feel bad. Knows that some of it is his fault. Wants to take Lily Evans out on a date for real. Needs to stop interrupting people. Needs to grow up a bit.
James Potter. Sixteen. Can’t remember the washing-up spell. Can’t dance. Never puts the seat down. Saw his Dad kissing that other woman who was not his mother. Does not know what to do. The lists in the paper are longer. He does not like it. Avoids Snape. Tries to keep Sirius whole. Makes Remus eat dinner. Laughs with his head back. Very tall now. Lily Evans’s Herbology partner. It is a little awkward. Very good at lying now. Collects fire whiskey bottle caps. Talks to Lily in-between classes. Tries not to drag his feet. Steals Peters chocolate frogs. Doodles on his left knee. Made Lily Evans laugh in Transfiguration. Laughs and Sirius when he stands with his hands on his hips. Is worried about the person with red eyes and a name like a swear word. Tries to forget about it. Fails. Can’t save money for shit. Bought Lily feathered high heels for her birthday. Laughed when she wore them around the common room. Took the rap for that library prank. Is right handed but throws the Quaffle with his left. Is actual friends with Lily Evans. Likes how she writes her ‘g’s. Confronted his Dad. Is sick of stupid homework. Wears slippers to breakfast. Helps little kids who get lost. Fell off his broomstick and broke his leg. Saw Lily Evans pacing in the waiting room. Likes Lily Evans a whole bloody lot. Smiles. Grown up a bit.
James Potter. Seventeen. Never ties his shoes. Gets headaches thinking about home. Likes the way Lily Evans taps her collarbone when she’s nervous. Sings louder when Sirius tells him to shut up. Read his Mothers diary. Kicks his feet. Doesn’t talk to his Dad anymore. Likes Lily Evans’s laugh. Is a morning person. Hates coffee. Hates it when Remus goes on about spelling. Wonders why Pete is always so pale. Is fucking terrified of what’s happening. Forces himself to read the list of names in the paper. Will not go down quietly. Likes the way Lily Evans numbs that scared part of his brain. Worried about Sirius. Worried about Remus. Worried about Peter. Worried about everyone. Laughs when Lily pulls the finger. Punched Johnny Crook when he said Lily was a whore. Makes fun of Lily’s shitty books. Wears trashy sunglasses. Laughs when she hits him on the nose. Gets drunk and thinks about the freckles on her knees. Forgot his own middle name once. Hugs her when she gets the letter about her parents. Knows she hates blue. Saw her walk into a door once. Feels better when he traces patterns on her skin. Thinks she is made of bricks and Diamonds. When she kisses him his head explodes. Buys flowers for the fun of it. Almost forgets about everything when you talk to her. Jumps on the bed. Has a scab on his left knee again. Still Counts Ceiling tiles. Still hates apples. Is infuriatingly in love with Lily bloody Evans. Doesn’t mind one bit
The Laziest Shirt-to-Skirt Reconstruction of All Time:
1. Put the shirt on like a skirt, with the collar at your waist.
2. Button it up so it’ll stay on.
3. Tie the arms around your waist and/or hips.
The result is a roughly knee-length skirt with a kind of mermaid-y V waist that looks like a high-waisted pencil skirt from the back and a rumpled jumble in the front. It’s ungodly comfortable and really easy to wear and move in, and it looks just deliberate enough to get away with in public / at (casual) work / around people you don’t want to think you’re completely demented even if you are.
The Spouse kinda has a thing about wearing shirts with patches, which means I inherit all his awesome old plaid flannel shirts as soon as they start to fall apart, which is rad because it is miserable and rainy and cold and all I want to do is wrap my entire body in a cocoon of flannel and hiberante ‘til spring.
I started refashioning one of the shirts into a skirt the other night–cutting it apart, repiecing the cuffs and collar as a patched-together waistband (I know this sounds bizarre, but I assure you that it is scrappy and brilliant. You’ll see.), and adding a few waist pleats. That skirt, however, was–is–a longish and somewhat byzantine project, compounded by the fact that my lovely old sewing machine is on the blink (I think the bobbin casing is bent, and it’s fucking with the tension, and you don’t really want to hear about my sewing machine, do you?), and I don’t know when I’ll be able to get it out to the shop, so I’m doing all of my sewing by hand at the moment.
But it was cold and rainy, and I wanted a flannel skirt NOW, goddamnit. So, there you go.