Jamiespxtter - ¬ James.

HP Character Aesthetics (8/?)

James Potter

ofmollyweasley​:

molly had completely forgotten she had come to scout out her brothers. seeing the face she had spent years taking in as her own had completely thrown her for a loop. feeling james pulling her in for a hug, she took him into the bear hug she was notorious for. she had done pretty well so far keeping it together. the emotions of everything hadn’t really caught up to her yet. she hadn’t really had time to process it all, what with having five small children to take care of again.

but having the boy who lived’s father hugging her, his arms wrapped around her, it opened the flood gates. she tried stifling a sob as much as possible. when had she last seen the man? it was surely before they went into hiding. she thought of james as another brother. 

“looking for fab and gid,” she said, having her question of whether her brothers were there or not. “they gave the boys sugar and left them with me.” it seemed so trivial now, having seen james for the first time in twenty years. 

--

The past few days had been.. rough, if there was any other word for it. 

Seeing Sirius and Remus, and Marlene. Alice, and hearing of everything she and Frank had gone through. He and Lily were still trying to process it all, and while part of him had hoped for some normalcy by attending an Order meeting, - and to see if any of the other members had any clue of what was going on, without being the one to spill the beans and sound like an absolute nutter, - James knew things would be okay if Molly Weasley was still around.

Until she had stared at him, like she couldn’t quite believe he was really there. And when he reached for her, Molly grabbed him in the tightest, Molly-est hug imaginable, and all at once, he felt that uncertainty.

That fear.

Something was still wrong.

She was crying, and James’ chest ached with it. He bundled her up as tightly as he could, - and careful with it, too, - reaching for a clean tissue in his pocket when she had pulled back to offer it to her. There’d been a lot of crying, lately. He was trying to stay prepared. 

“.. they deserve to get their arses kicked, then,” he joked weakly, still keeping one arm around Molly, to make sure she was alright. “I haven’t seen them. But - you’re more than welcome to stay, until they turn up. I needed a good excuse to get out of there, anyway.” 

He looked back at the door, a tired frown on his face, before offering Molly a weak smile. “Tea?”

❝ It’s okay — you’re going to be okay! ❞

[TW: injury description.]

"Your faith in me is absolutely reassuring." His words come out dry, forced through the ache of the pain shooting up his leg. He's fine, for the most part, - the Death Eaters they had been chasing have long since been taken care of, and he and Amelia are a bloody good team. "It's a quidditch thing," she had joked, though he had agreed wholeheartedly. Their issue now is the nasty way his leg is twisted, and James stays slumped up against the brick wall, keeping his weight on the other foot. He's had injuries, before. Quidditch, stupid tricks and pranks with the boys, that one time he had flown around to Lily's window of Gryffindor tower in the rain, and had slipped off his broom. Countless full moons. Auror training, and being in the Order. He's seen the inside of the medical wing and St. Mungo's more times than he can count, and he's learned to handle the pain. But it's something else. The hex the Death Eater had used is nasty, and James feels like his leg is still twisting in the wrong direction, tightening, like bone and muscle is fit to burst. The longer they wait, the worse it feels. Amelia's there, though. She's got one arm under his shoulders, helping to keep him upright, and he's more than grateful. There's a grimace on his face, and James fights a groan as his leg twists again, his hand grabbing onto her tightly. "Please don't tell my wife about this," he huffs, giving her a look.

Rain & papers

HEADCANON: James adores rain. The sound of it, the smell of it, the exhilaration that comes with feeling alive. One of his earliest memories is being whisked up into his father's arms, and taken out into the rainfall, bundled up in a warm embrace and surrounded by his mother's laughter as they danced together, James between them. He can remember the feel of each drop, the smell of springtime and the flowers Euphemia had planted the week before, the joy of being safe, and home. Lily can find him out there, sometimes. Sitting on a broomstick on the quidditch pitch after a tough match, eyes closed, only a foot off the ground, but still weightless. In the summer before their seventh year, the pair tucked up together in a small doorway of some little pub near her hometown, and he takes a deep breath in, a small smile on his face despite the cold that seeps into his socks. In their last few weeks at Godric's Hollow, it becomes his coping mechanism. To sit out on the step of their back door, watching their little garden, rain falling on his outstretched palm. Harry's usually asleep by the time he goes out, and Lily is quick to follow her husband, only stopping behind him to thread her fingers through his hair. The combination of her touch, and the fresh smell of the rain, and the gentle sounds of Harry fussing in his cot nearby is everything that feels like home to him. He loves the rain.

-

DRABBLE: It looks like a bomb has hit their living room. For a moment, James is willing to not ask any questions. His girlfriend, - fiancée, his mind helpfully corrects, and he has to stop himself from dancing on the spot right then and there, - looks to be the culprit of the crime, a bundle of scrunched up papers in a little pile behind her as she tries to organise through.. whatever she's organising through. It's far too early in the morning for her to have any reasonable excuse, but he's long since learned to roll with the punches when it comes to Lily Evans. She's a whirlwind, a woman who can't be stopped when she's on a mission. Merlin, he fucking loves her. She's frantically writing something on a new piece of paper, and James knows better than to stop her and ask exactly what she's doing. Instead, he turns his attention to the tossed-away, crumpled up paper ball that's nearest to his position at the living room door, and he carefully leans down to pick it up. There's writing on the inside, scribbles, and James scrunches his nose up in confusion as he unravels the paper ball, reading over her handwriting. Blue flowers. Red? Yellow? Check J suit. No white. Center pieces. NO LILIES. Green foliage - talk to Molly about best leafy flowers for center pieces. framed? keep one center piece. preservation charm - ask alice. A smile pulls at his lips, and James tucks the paper into his pocket, picking up another. The same, again, - scribbles of wedding plans and ideas, written down like it's plucked straight from her mind and shoved onto the paper. Something about it makes his heart soar, the fact that she's so invested in making their day absolutely perfect, for both of them, while still keeping their friends in the loop. It's a small blessing, given the circumstances.

Character aesthetic ♡ James Potter

“the last enemy that shall be destroyed is death”

“ What am I to you…? “

It's not a question he expects her to ask.

He knows everything about Marlene McKinnon. He knows what exact height she was at the age of seven, and just how she likes her tea. He knows her parents' middle names, and her favourite colour, and what song she's sung in the shower the most times. He knows what flowers she wants at her wedding, - though she'll never admit to wanting one, - and he knows how his heart breaks, every time she's ever unsure of herself.

Marlene is a whole world, wrapped up in blonde hair and fists, a wicked wit and a brutally honest truth.

To him? She's the whole fucking universe.

It hurts, whenever she has doubts. Their relationship has ebbed and flowed in so many different ways, - they've kissed, and cuddled in bed, and shared bedrooms, and dreams. They've pinky-promised a life together, and had massive, blow-out fights, over the most stupid things. In the middle of a war, James knows she has his back, just like, - he hopes, - she knows he has hers. They've been through far too much, over fifteen years of friendship, to ever doubt that.

Maybe he doesn't say it enough.

They always joke about these kinds of things.

He doesn't hesitate when he reaches out, lacing his fingers with Marlene's, the way they used to when they were little. It's never been something Lily's ever had to worry about, thank Merlin, and there's a comfort in it. Marlene's seen sides of him he doesn't like, sides of him no-one else has, and he knows the answer to her question can barely be put into words.

".. you're better than a sister," he decides, looking at her, voice honest and even, "and better than a friend. I don't think I'd be me without you."

By a unanimous vote, we’ve decided to do a soft opening, and take this weekend to plot and reply to memes.

What that means:

All of our members should follow Memento Memes, where I will be reblogging memes throughout the weekend for us to use. To keep them all in one place and from getting lost on the dash, send any memes you’d like to be reblogged to me and I’ll reblog them there.

I will still be accepting Applications all weekend. Friday Night, Saturday Night, and Sunday Night, all at 9pm EST. That way people can easily join in and get right into the plotting and memes.

On Monday at 6 pm EST, we will open officially. This will be started with everyone posting their Self-Paras of their characters waking up. This can either be a Solo Para if your character is alone, or a Para with your characters significant other if they woke up with them. That is completely up to you if you’ve plotted that.

Shadowhunters - S01E07 “ Major Arcana ”

James: *sighs*

Sirius: You bored?

James: Yeah.

Sirius: …

Sirius: Wanna start drama for no reason?

James: …

James: Yeah, why not.