Jamiespxtter - ¬ James.

CARING SENTENCE STARTERS 

for muses that need a little love. 

❝  i’m here for you.  ❞

❝  let me help with that.  ❞

❝  i’m here.  ❞

❝  nothing’s gonna hurt you.  ❞

❝  if they do it again, you tell me.  ❞

❝  i’ll protect you. ❞

❝  i’ll make sure nothing bad happens to you.  ❞

❝  let me take a look…  ❞

❝  i’m a phone call away.  ❞

❝  you should have called me.  ❞

❝  here, sleep.  ❞

❝  if you wanna talk, i’m here.  ❞

❝  hey, shh, it’s okay.  ❞

❝  i’ll never let you go.  ❞

❝  you’re with me now.  ❞

❝  nothing’s gonna take you from my side.  ❞

❝  i’ll do what i have to.  ❞

❝  i need you to stay here, okay? i got this.  ❞

❝  it’s safe here.  ❞

❝  i’m fine, let me see your face.  ❞

❝  we’re gonna have to keep ice on that.  ❞

Shadowhunters - S01E07 “ Major Arcana ”

here’s a beautiful and smiling kat to make your day immediately better ╰(◡‿◡✿╰)

Amelia Bones

Peter Pettigrew

Marlene McKinnon

send me   ‘ hold up ‘   for your muse to grab mine by the back of the shirt to keep them from doing something dangerous / foolish 

send  ‘ hold up ‘ reverse  for my muse to do the grabbing

“It’s okay. It’s gonna be okay.”

James doesn't quite believe her. He believes her with most things. Everything. She knows far more about the world as a whole than he ever has, ever will, and it's one of many things he adores about her. She's shameless about it, too; having held so much pride in her grades, and her differences, and her position as Slughorn's favourite student, and McGonagall's. Everything she had learned from her parents, her sister, from home, a world James knew so little about, she eats up every ounce of information, keeping it stored carefully away from when she needs it most. In the real world, outside the castle walls, Lily blooms, growing into so much more than he could have ever imagined, - because she's smart. And she's always right. James loves her. James knows she wouldn't lie. And still, those six words feel fake, like a knife in his back, like some kind of mockery. It's not her intention, he knows, but the letter sits in his shaking hands, pinched between calloused fingers, and nothing feels real any more. His mother is dying. The inevitability of it looms over his shoulder, haunting, curled around the nape of his neck like a cool breeze, sending a shiver down his spine. His parents are young in heart, and that's something he's always known, but their age has begun to show. Scrawled handwriting in their letters, more visits to the healers, more time needed to rest when they visit. It's little things that add up, brush-strokes that paint a whole picture, but losing his parents before he's even seen twenty is - He doesn't like it. Lily repeats her words, an arm curling around his shoulders from where she had been stood behind him. For a brief moment, her warm embrace replaces the cold clutch of fear that had seized him, and James leans into her hold, looking down at the letter again. It's only a matter of time.

❝ 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.

“Oh, if I’m self-aware about being a douchebag, it’ll somehow make me less of a douchebag.”

"Those two things don't cancel each other out."

They're sprawled out on the common room floor, arms spread wide, gazing up at the towering ceiling above them. Sometimes he looks up at the very top, and James feels like the room goes on for miles, swallowing him whole. It's spinning, swirling right where it reaches the apex, held together with supportive beams, and decades of magic and hope.

Sirius is beside him, toes warmed by the fireplace, and James can almost reach his hand with his own. Peter and Remus had long since gone to bed, retiring a little after midnight, and he and Padfoot had been left alone.

It's never a bad thing.

He doesn't believe Sirius is a douchebag. Or an arsehole, or a twat, or any of those things. But he knows Sirius better than most. Better than anyone. He'd moved into the estate last summer, and James had gained a real brother, someone to truly call family when he was so far away from his parents.

Sirius has always been family. Sirius has always deserved family.

James moves his hand then, knocking his fingers against Sirius' lightly.

"Stop stealing my socks, though. I'm running out."

Vices

HEADCANON:

James isn't a regular smoker, despite the fact that he's usually got a pack nearby, at most times.

It had become a bad habit in Hogwarts, something he had picked up the summer before their sixth year with Sirius, under the pretense of looking cool. They didn't look cool, really, but that didn't stop him from trying, hanging out down the far end of the Potter estate, by the lake, lazing on a sunny afternoon. The cigarette balanced carefully in one hand, toes dipping in the water, shirt unbuttoned with the hopes of getting some kind of a tan.

Peter had joined them, once, face scrunching up slightly at the scent of tobacco that clung to their clothes.

He only smokes on occasion. Drunk after a common room party, their sixth year. After winning a match, their seventh. Dawn, after a particularly rough full moon. It's even less frequent, now - he'd had one on the night Lily had told him she was pregnant, and one on the day Harry was born.

James relies on a lot of things to cope. His vices, however, are few and far between.

‘ hold up ‘ reverse

It takes everything he's got to hoist Peter back, ripping the back of his shirt in the process.

There's a panic in it, an urgency to run, and James follows that instinct like it's the only thing guaranteed to keep them alive. He keeps one hand on Peter's shoulder, pulling him tight, the other one covering his mouth quickly to stop him from making a peep. At the same time, there's footsteps rushing down the alleyway behind them, chasing them, and James keeps his eyes on Peter's, staring him down, daring him not to say a fucking word. Their silence is crucial, especially now, and the last thing he wants is for either of them to get caught.

Lily's due in a week. He can't leave her like this.

There's a second set of footsteps, and James' eyes widen slightly, still watching his friend. They're the only two out of the mission, and while part of him wants to believe it's just concerned citizens rushing to help, another part of him knows it's their worst fear; an ambush, more Death Eaters, coming to get them if the first pair couldn't. It's a lot more dangerous than either of them had realised, and James sits with the reality of it for a beat, trying not to get too overwhelmed.

When enough time has passed for him to be convinced that no-one else is coming for them, James finally lets his hand drop, resting on Peter's shoulder instead as they both catch their breath.

"Too close," James decides, slumping agaisnt Peter in a half-hug.