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Description
Inspired by one of my fave James x Lily oneshots. (The title came from the fanfic as well). I love drunk Lily, LOL

(I hope the author doesn't mind if I post a snippet of the story here)

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Call Me Lily by Scriblerian

“Evans?!”

James could hardly believe his eyes. No. There was no way Lily bloody Evans was slouched over across the bar in the Three Broomsticks…completely smashed. He refused to believe it.

“Whaa?”

The red haired girl lifted her head at the sound of her name, her forehead taking a napkin with it. The white paper partially covered her eyes, and she looked around wildly for a moment.

James stepped forward and slowly plucked the napkin off to be met with the green, albeit slightly dazed looking, eyes of the one and only Lily Evans. Yep. It was definitely her. He wasn’t dreaming or in some weird dimension where happening upon a drunk Evans was a commonplace occurrence or indeed a possible one after all.

“Oh. S’you. Pot—” hic “—Potter.”

James gaped at her. “Are you drunk?!”

Lily made a face at him as though she had just bitten into a lemon.

“Pffff….no!” she said, waving a hand in dismissal wildly and nearly smacking him in the face with it in the process. “I’ve never been—“ hic “—drunk in my life.”

She started giggling then, as if she had just said something quite hilarious. James continued to gape at her and turned his head to take in the many empty shot glasses that littered the bar top before her. He picked one up and sniffed.

Firewhiskey. Go figure.

“Bloody…how many of these did you have?” he asked incredulously, his mind still refusing to believe that perfect Prefect Evans was utterly intoxicated.

Lily frowned and peered suspiciously at the small glass in James’ hand as though she suspected it of some wrongdoing. She seemed to think hard for a moment before replying.

“Eleventeen,” she said finally, giving a curt nod and looking slightly pleased with herself.

James cocked an eyebrow, amused despite himself. “Eleventeen? That is neither a word nor a number, love.”

“Course ‘tis. Comes right after…er…” she paused, obviously trying her damnedest to figure out what came before ‘eleventeen’.

“Blasted number disappeared,” she mumbled finally in disappointment. “And don’t you call me…that…Pot—“ hic “--Potter.”

“Right,” he sighed as he ran a hand through his hair, looking around.

Read the rest here: Call Me Lily

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I know that James doesn't actually carry Lily on his back in the story, but I figured it'd be sweeter if I drew it that way

Description
Inspired by one of my fave James x Lily oneshots. (The title came from the fanfic as well). I love drunk Lily, LOL

(I hope the author doesn't mind if I post a snippet of the story here)

--------------------------------------------------------

Call Me Lily by Scriblerian

“Evans?!”

James could hardly believe his eyes. No. There was no way Lily bloody Evans was slouched over across the bar in the Three Broomsticks…completely smashed. He refused to believe it.

“Whaa?”

The red haired girl lifted her head at the sound of her name, her forehead taking a napkin with it. The white paper partially covered her eyes, and she looked around wildly for a moment.

James stepped forward and slowly plucked the napkin off to be met with the green, albeit slightly dazed looking, eyes of the one and only Lily Evans. Yep. It was definitely her. He wasn’t dreaming or in some weird dimension where happening upon a drunk Evans was a commonplace occurrence or indeed a possible one after all.

“Oh. S’you. Pot—” hic “—Potter.”

James gaped at her. “Are you drunk?!”

Lily made a face at him as though she had just bitten into a lemon.

“Pffff….no!” she said, waving a hand in dismissal wildly and nearly smacking him in the face with it in the process. “I’ve never been—“ hic “—drunk in my life.”

She started giggling then, as if she had just said something quite hilarious. James continued to gape at her and turned his head to take in the many empty shot glasses that littered the bar top before her. He picked one up and sniffed.

Firewhiskey. Go figure.

“Bloody…how many of these did you have?” he asked incredulously, his mind still refusing to believe that perfect Prefect Evans was utterly intoxicated.

Lily frowned and peered suspiciously at the small glass in James’ hand as though she suspected it of some wrongdoing. She seemed to think hard for a moment before replying.

“Eleventeen,” she said finally, giving a curt nod and looking slightly pleased with herself.

James cocked an eyebrow, amused despite himself. “Eleventeen? That is neither a word nor a number, love.”

“Course ‘tis. Comes right after…er…” she paused, obviously trying her damnedest to figure out what came before ‘eleventeen’.

“Blasted number disappeared,” she mumbled finally in disappointment. “And don’t you call me…that…Pot—“ hic “--Potter.”

“Right,” he sighed as he ran a hand through his hair, looking around.

Read the rest here: Call Me Lily

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I know that James doesn't actually carry Lily on his back in the story, but I figured it'd be sweeter if I drew it that way