“Oh, If I’m Self-aware About Being A Douchebag, It’ll Somehow Make Me Less Of A Douchebag.”

HP Character Aesthetics (8/?)

James Potter

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.

“The coffee is free, just like me.”

"You're priceless, Molly."

He says it with an exhausted grin, one hand gratefully taking the cup she offers. It's late enough in the evening for coffee, but James feels jittery all over, like he's not quite right. Normally a cup of tea with Lily would be exactly what the healer ordered, but while his wife is on her mission with Moody, he's willing to take all the alternative help he can get.

Molly Weasley is a blessing. Her showing up at the Hollow had been a surprise in itself, but not an unwelcome one. They've been getting a little closer, lately, chatting more and more, thanks to her brothers. And with the baby on the way, James has.. sort of become attached, to her. She's smart. And kind. Her kids are rascals, but James knows she'd do absolutely anything for them. Everything she has is everything he wants in a family, and they're right on the edge of getting it, Lily's bump growing every day.

The Burrow is much bigger than the Potter's cottage, and he's only been there a handful of times. Every day, she's added something new; another bed, another room, a new painting, new wallpaper, fresh flowers, more vegetables in the garden. It's a home, and he feels welcome there.

He wants the Hollow to feel the same to her. Like a welcome home. Like family.

Friend

HEADCANON:

So much of James' personality is based around his ability to have friendships. He considers himself practically everyone's friend, unless they've been a dick to him, or he's got good reason not to like them. For years growing up, he had always seen how his parents were treated, liked, how they had so many people they could rely on and turn to, people they trusted, people who could just pop by the estate and were greeted with a warm welcome. Acquaintances, they would call them, but James always knew better; they were friends, as simple as that.

Marlene had been his first real friend, aside from his parents, and she has a special place in his heart. But something had changed on that first train ride to Hogwarts; when he had met Remus, Peter, and Sirius. There was a shift in his very core understanding of friendship, in the way he saw how it worked. Friendship was so much more than just people you got along with and saw every now and again, especially when those friendships turned into a family.

Family are people you want to stick by. People you want to surround yourself with. They're the people you call home, when you have nowhere else to go, and no-one else you want to go to. People you trust, people you would do anything for, even without asking, no matter what.

James has plenty of friends.

Sirius is his family.

“We always were a thing, weren’t we?”

"I think so." There's no arrogance behind his words, no self-righteousness that would have come if she had asked him three years ago. Their relationship is a relatively new thing, in terms of official labels, their first kiss, everything that had happened on Halloween night, but everything they are goes beyond so much more than that. To the eye, sure, they've only been together for two months, and they're still going strong. But Lily's right, as she usually is. They were always a thing. She's always been on his mind. She's had his heart for at least a year, now, if not more. He's learned to adapt, to accept the way Lily had wanted them to be, simply friends and nothing more. Getting any ounce of a positive relationship with her, even a platonic one, was more than James had ever imagined possible, and he wasn't about to take it for granted. Every moment spent with her was a gift. Is a gift. But there's freedom, in honesty. He can tell her these things, can admit to watching her in class, feeling his heart soar when she cheers from the stands during a quidditch match, the way her foot would knock against his ankle under the table at breakfast. Little details that add up, things that culminate and become love, and hearing her admit to that makes him feel warm all over. He's unafraid, then, when he leans over, pressing a small kiss to her forehead. "You've always been it, for me."

I solemnly swear that I’m up to no good.

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

selene - would you rather the sky had no moon or no stars?

"I'm not answering this question."