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bealovesmarauders · 1 year

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invisible string / james potter

⋆ ࣪. ⁺⑅ ⋰˚ *.ﾟ .˳⁺⁎˚ ˚⁎⁺˳ . ༺ ˖

james potter x fem reader

word count: 4k

in which james potter has a quidditch injury, and, in healing, meets someone special <3

and isn’t it just so pretty to think, that all along there was some invisible string?

a/n: i've left reader's illness ambiguous because many people go through many different things, however this is heavily based off of personal experience. TW for hospitals, illness, and swearing (kinda??). this is my very first fic so i hope you all enjoy! you are not alone. you are beautiful. you are valid, & my inbox is always open if anyone wants to talk <33 likes & reposts are very appreciated especially as i'm trying to grow my account!!

⋆ ࣪. ⁺⑅ ⋰˚ *.ﾟ .˳⁺⁎˚ ˚⁎⁺˳ . ༺ ˖

the hospital wing is quiet, and james potter is lonely.

he has never been this isolated before. he's sunshine, really- constantly soaking up love, light, and laughter. james thrives off of other people, and the fun that comes with them. merlin knows he's never turned down a prank- never missed a gryffindor house party- never passed up the opportunity to sneak into hogsmeade. but then again, james has never had a quidditch injury this bad either.

it was a normal practice, as it goes. he'd tweaked his shoulder about a week prior during a particularly rough collision with a hufflepuff player during a game, but he'd brushed it off- it was nothing. remus, naturally, had worried- "you'll make it worse, prongs,"- but the pain went away almost instantaneously due to a handy numbing spell flitwick had taught in charms a few months before. honestly, james had forgotten about it (among the numerous assignments he'd forgotten to do for both potions and transfiguration). but this practice had gotten...rowdy, to say the least, and he'd fallen off his broom, landing on his left arm and shoulder while attempting to show off a trick with the golden snitch.

he'd never felt any pain like it, really. madam pomfrey had performed a basic charm to mend his fractured collarbone, but there had been severe nerve and muscle damage to his shoulder, arm, and back. “we'll have to wait it out," the matron had told him, “but you musn't move it."

james knows he was impatient, but waiting is difficult when you're always the first at everything. the first young seeker in gryffindor history to catch the snitch and win the house cup in sixty years, the first student to ever get detention from professor dumbledore, always the first to down a shot at a common room party. in hindsight, maybe he shouldn't have snuck out to attempt a workout a few days into his stay at the hospital wing. “but what do you expect me to do?" he'd argued with professor mcgonagall when she found him cradling his injured arm close to his body in the common room rather than the hospital wing. “you let remus read and do his studies when he's ill! why not me? quidditch is my destiny!"

so now james is going on his fifth night in the wing, and madam pomfrey estimates he'll be staying for another week due to the damage caused from his impromptu exercise session. the matron is kind enough, and her touch is gentle on his shoulder, but no amount of gobstones with sirius and remus when they're out of class can cure james's boredom.

the wing is often empty. there's always an occasional illness, or spell gone wrong, but the healer witch always whips up a healing potion or casts a helpful charm in no time. it's her job, james knows, and so is confiscating the snitch in his pocket. but sometimes he wishes he would have a companion who lasts more than a few hours. maybe it's awful of him to think- that there would be someone in bad enough condition so that he could make a friend. and so james sulks.

but today, that changes. and, as james potter is soon to realize, fate- whether it be quidditch or love- often finds its way.

james hears many things when he wakes up in the middle of the night. voices- not unusual, but louder and more urgent than the typical hum of the hospital wing, especially at this time. forcing his eyes open and fumbling for his glasses, he draws the pale green curtains around his bed open to investigate the hubbub. to his surprise, his assumption in the multitude of voices is correct. through the darkness, james can just make out madam pomfrey in her crimson dress across the room, along with professors mcgonagall and dumbledore crouched around a rickety metal bed matching his own. madam pomfrey appears to be quickly mixing up a lavender potion, and mcgonagall and dumbledore step aside to speak in hushed whispers just loud enough for james to hear snippets.

“...very sick..”

“...st. mungo's..”

“..excused from classes..”

james's brow furrows, straining his eyes and ears for more. a sliver of moonlight passes through the latticed window above him, and he can barely see a figure on the bed being tended to by madam pomfrey. even the thought of st. mungo's seems extreme. but then madam pomfrey's voice, usually calm (or peeved), cuts through the night air shrilly.

“albus! minerva! i need your assistance-”

james sits up straight to catch a glimpse of what's happening, wincing from the hot flash of pain radiating from his arm and shoulder. but as the professors rush past him, dumbledore pauses before flicking his wand, consequently drawing the pale green curtains around james's bed closed.

“mr. potter,” he says with a tone james can't quite decipher, “there is something to be said about prying eyes on a night such as this one.”

with these cryptic final words, james runs a hand through his dark curls and falls back on his pillows, defeated and slightly ashamed of his own curiosity.

but, as we all know, the sun will rise again in the morning.

when james wakes, madam pomfrey is bustling around, and everything seems normal. normal, until he catches a glimpse of the figure in the bed. it's a familiar face, james realizes- a girl in his year, friends with lily evans and partnered with remus in potions class. he's seen her studying in the library on more occasions than one, studying by herself or with remus. warm sunlight pools on her bed, but her face is paler than nearly headless nick.

it takes james a moment to rub the sleep out of his eyes and regain memory of the night before. “poppy," he says, morning voice rough. “come to visit me again? couldn't keep away?"

madam pomfrey makes her way over to james to hand him his daily painkillers, a sludgy potion the texture of chalk. “mr. potter," she says severely, “how many times have i kindly requested that you address me by my preferred title?"

james is about to make a wisecrack at this, but chokes a bit on the potion instead. it's been several days, but he's not sure if he'll ever be used to the medication. “sorry," he says, grimacing. and then when curiosity overtakes him- “what happened last night- y'know, with that girl?"

madam pomfrey shakes her head, making a tsk sound. “that's not for me to share," she says. “but best not wake her."

james spends the rest of his morning chewing on buttered toast- one of the foods madam pomfrey says will help him heal quicker- and pretending to read a book on broomstick care that remus bought for him last christmas. it motivates him to get back on the field. he would do anything to polish his broom right now- he finds it relaxing, having a routine. but the words swim on the page and staring mindlessly at it does him no good, so he sips on pumpkin juice and finds himself watching the girl in the bed across the room.

she looks peaceful when she's sleeping. fragile, even, as if she might shatter into a million pieces if he were to touch her. hair fanned out on the soft pillow, she looks weak, bundled up in extra blankets. a muggle contraption that remus has mentioned before feeds a concoction of some sort through a long, clear tube into the girl's arm, and several more finicky-looking wires seem to be attached to her. that must feel awful, james thinks. he hopes she's okay. she's quite pretty, after all- it would be a shame if she was stuck in here for a while. hopefully she's out before he is.

when the girl finally awakes, looking rather disoriented, madam pomfrey rushes right back in, and james finds himself peering at a pale green curtain again. what is it with this matron and her privacy curtains? when james was getting fixed up, he was not allowed the luxury of them- instead he was forced to watch the bubbling pustules of a slytherin student beside him resulting from sudden onset dragonpox. sirius had gotten a right kick out of that one.

the rest of the marauders come to visit around lunch, and by then the curtains have opened again, revealing the girl once more. for once, james has trouble focusing on the words coming from sirius's mouth.

“...and then the spell just ricocheted off the wall and hit flitwick smack dab on the nose. he just about blew a fuse! prongs? prongs, are you listening?"

james startles when sirius's voice becomes louder. “sorry?"

remus eyes him, a concerned look on his face. "bloody merlin, you're out of it today," sirius replies, smirking. he's about to continue on with his story when james speaks.

“who's that girl?"

the marauders turn to glance. the girl is sleeping again, or has at least closed her eyes, the matron at her bedside. remus smiles knowingly.

“that's y/n l/n. she's very kind, prongs, you should make friends with her."

“isn't she friends with lily? have you moved on from your precious flower?" sirius asks teasingly. james smacks him gently on the head. “i'm just...curious. has she been in here before?"

remus gives a brief nod. “it's how we met. full moon. ya know."

james, leaves it at that- something remus recognizes as out of character, yet it doesn't go unappreciated. james doesn't want to pry, or invade y/n's privacy. maybe he'll talk to her when she wakes up. instead, james musters a smile, tries to force the trademark glint in his eye, and deals a rousing round of exploding snap with his best friends.

"psst!"

y/n l/n wakes up to an obnoxious sound from across the room. everything hurts, she's exhausted, and consequently, she's definitely not in the mood for mischief. regardless, she looks up. and what a sight to behold but none other than james potter.

james potter. of course it's james potter. remus's beautiful best friend, lover of mischief, master of quidditch. except evidently he still has much to learn on the quidditch front- his muscled arm is heavily bandaged, lying close to his chest in a sling. she forces herself to look up- his biceps look a little too nice peeking out of the hospital gown- and meets his deep brown eyes. “hello."

“hey," he parrots back.

there's an awkward silence in which they look each other up and down. she prays she's not drooling.

“what'd you wake me up for?" she finally asks. something in his tone has tied her tongue momentarily, and her voice is soft.

james grins. “it's lonely in here. and you don't seem to need any beauty sleep, you're pretty already."

so this is how it is. y/n blushes and smiles a little. for a moment, she forgets they're in the infirmary. “i'm y/n."

“i know," james replies. “i'm james. pleasure t' meet you."

y/n finds her voice again. “i know," she mimics. “you're friends with remus."

james attempts running a hand through his messy curls using his injured arm- presumably a flirtatious move, but it results in an exaggerated gasp of pain and eliciting a small laugh from y/n. she winces as she props herself up a bit, accidentally tugging on the muggle tubes attached to her body. to her surprise, james's demeanor changes completely, and all of a sudden he's the worried-looking one, asking hesitantly if she's okay, his voice laced with concern.

she smiles, albeit a weak one. “yeah. i'm used to it."

looking around, y/n realizes madam pomfrey is nowhere to be seen. noticing this, james clears his voice. “she's helping out with all the seventh-years. they're learning how to apparate, and there's a hell of a lot of splinching. she'll be back soon."

y/n nods, looking as if she's about to ask something. butterflies in james's stomach arise- a rare occurrence since his fifth rejection from lily evans- and the curly haired gryffindor feels as if he can tell there are words on the tip of her tongue, but perhaps she's too shy to say. “do you need anything?"

she exhales, and james realizes she's shivering despite the excess of blankets wrapped around her. “can you- can you get me a blanket? i would get one myself, but i don't think i can walk right now."

he nods so quickly she thinks he'll break his neck. “of course," he replies, and she attempts to shoot him a small smile despite the pain. james's heart flutters, and he gets up shakily from the bed. he's been bedridden for a while, so he's not used to walking, but it's clear already he's in a better position then her. making his way over to madam pomfrey's cupboard of linens and hospital gowns, james attempts to inject some swagger into his strut, prompting another small giggle. when he's finally by her bed, handing her the thick wool blanket, james's shoulder's aching more than it should, but he swallows and puts on another teasing tone. just for her.

“milady," he bows, wrapping the quilt around her shoulders as she props herself up into a sitting position. she shivers, but some color returns to her cheeks once she's started to warm up. “why thank you, kind sir. my knight in shining armor."

james stands there awkwardly holding his sling for a moment, and y/n is beginning to wonder if she shouldn't have asked him for help, but just as casually as she'd hoped, he lowers himself into the hospital bed beside her own, sitting like a little boy, criss-cross applesauce leaning back against the pillows.

a smile slowly spreads across y/n's face, and it warms james's heart. “i guess you'll be staying here for a while."

“i guess i will," james agrees, and neither of them can deny the tension in the air.

they spend the rest of the afternoon together talking and getting to know each other. madam pomfrey doesn't get back for a while- potentially prompted by a knowing remus waiting outside the hospital wing with a tale spun of sirius suffering from an unprompted vicious hiccup attack requiring immediate medical attention. (the marauders are positive that james wouldn't mind them stealing a few of his hiccough sweets from his zonko's stash if it meant more time alone with y/n.) james gets to know her favorite things- books, music, et cetera- and entertains her with stories about some of his most infamous pranks. surprisingly enough, when the matron returns, she only gives james a mild scolding for switching beds (“i'm sure you're up to no good, mr. potter,"), pours y/n another dose of medication, and- miraculously!- leaves them be.

the two grow close quickly over the next while. their conversations range from quidditch cup predictions to more vulnerable subjects, and they bond over their distaste for missing class. james knows not to push, but the elephant in the room looms over them: james growing healthier by the day, y/n deteriorating.

the conversation becomes difficult to avoid. soon, james's sling is taken off, and his new friend gasps excitedly at the news when she wakes up, stretching her arm out between their two beds to squeeze his hand affectionately. “you'll be out of here in no time," she grins, but the realization comes with a sense of deflatement. honestly, james doesn't know how he feels about it. he wants to get back to his friends, to life, to house parties, to quidditch. hell, even back to normal classes, with homework. but he doesn't think he can bear leaving her behind.

but overall, the encouragement and company of james's new friend makes resting easier, and in no time he settles into a new routine. his morning consists of waking up, taking his potion, eating, and talking with y/n, while his afternoons typically include having lunch, visiting the marauders, talking more with y/n, and eating dinner. due to the abundance of rest james is getting, he's healing faster, which pleases madam pomfrey very much- and it comes as a shock when she discharges him from the infirmary.

“are you positive?" james asks, slightly flabbergasted.

the matron gives him a dry smile.

“yes mr. potter, i am confident that you are successfully mended and i am rid of you at last."

james, elated, lets out a delighted whoop. he has to restrain himself from sweeping madam pomfrey up into a hug and spinning her around, he's so happy. but then the realization hits him- y/n. she's sleeping right now- she's been weaker than usual lately, never feeling well enough to talk for more than ten minutes. the muggle wires feeding into her body have multiplied, and the infirmary is significantly quieter, bar madam pomfrey's footsteps to check on her every once in a while. he doesn't want to leave her. that is the plain, simple truth.

james soaks in these thoughts for the rest of the afternoon, preparing to tell her when she wakes up. but she stays fast asleep. when remus and sirius come to visit and he breaks the news that he's out, he's mended, james greeted with open arms and claps on the back. but james catches the worried glance remus sends to his potions partner, dozing away in the next bed over. she looks as if she's barely breathing. it’s an odd mix of emotions. hoping to say goodbye, james eats one last meal in the hospital wing, and double checks with the matron that he’s totally healed. but all signs are clear, so he’s officially dismissed.

james stays uncharacteristically silent as he walks up to the gryffindor common room with all of his things- his sleakeasy hair potion, his robes, his stolen snitch given back by pomfrey. he's missing something- a goodbye. but he'll visit her later. he'll say farewell. because he has to. but until then, james thinks, he can distract himself.

of course, sirius and marlene have organized a welcome-back party. even james, forever a maximalist, thinks it's a bit over the top. he loves sirius, they’re brothers, but james feels wrong being here. the only comfort he seeks is not in the fireworks terrorizing the portraits, or the butterbeer pong, or even in lily's open arms, who seems to have missed him quite a bit. it's the hospital wing he craves. calm, quiet, empty, yet filled with laughter. or rather, y/n.

dwelling on his thoughts, james takes a long sip of firewhiskey, recoiling from the scorching feeling in his throat- it's been a while. he's here, but he's not present, and remus, who's been nursing spiked pumpkin juice all night from the corner, nudges james and whispers into his ear: “go get her, prongs."

james weighs his options. he knows sirius, currently snogging someone in the corner, would say the same- the marauders are less oblivious to james's connection with y/n then he'd hoped- and when he spots a hufflepuff jock slip through the portrait with a gaggle of girls behind him, he’s fairly certain his welcome party is over. fabian prewett, outraged at the infiltration and also mildly drunk on butterbeer, slugs the intruder right in the jaw, and when the hufflepuffs have retreated and fabian's hoisted up onto their shoulders, the new hero of the night upon his pedestal, james knows it's time to leave. this is his chance.

halfway to the hospital wing, he realizes that he doesn’t actually know what the hell he’s doing. showing up at midnight to a beautiful girl’s bedside empty handed? invisibility cloak draped around his shoulders, james picks up his pace as he jogs through hogwarts all the way to the courtyard. hands assured now, he plucks some wildflowers from the grass- it’s too dark to tell what they are- and knows that he is following his heart. bouquet in hand, james is running now, sprinting up the moving staircases as quietly as possible to reach the hallowed hall that’s home to the hospital wing. half of james’s heart wants to make a scene- to swing open the doors to the infirmary with a bang- but he knows all too well how obnoxious sleep disruptions can get. so he takes a deep breath, and enters the hospital wing.

there’s a faint light that greets james as he comes in. it’s y/n- glowing wand at her side, providing enough light to read a familiar book: his broomstick care manual. her face absolutely lights up when she sees james.

“hello there mr. potter,” y/n whispers, quiet even though there’s no one else in the infirmary. “i think you forgot something on your way out.”

she holds up his book, a twinkle in her eye- one james hasn’t seen before. he rushes over to her bed, eager to gift her the bouquet. “well, you can keep it, love, along with the flowers.”

y/n buries her face in the wildflowers, immersing herself in the scent. moonlight pools through the latticed window, illuminating her face. she looks happy. truly happy. “thank you, james.”

there’s a moment, one where they are both gazing at each other, completely enamored. james is in pajamas, of all things- a heather gray shirt and plaid bottoms. it’s a contrast to the hospital gown she’s used to seeing him in. and she can’t help herself anymore, taking his hand and holding it. such a simple gesture, but one that holds such significance and weight.

that’s when james knows. all that’s left unsaid has been conveyed in the touch of a hand, and the wistful look in her eyes confirms it. he gently brushes away a stray wisp of hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear, and his thumb comes to rest on her cheek, stroking it softly. and she knows, too.

“james."

a pause.

“i’m sick. i’ve been sick since first year. i’m getting better, madam pomfrey says. but it’s a long recovery. i don’t want you to feel burdened by me. you’re not even supposed to be here. you should be at the welcome back party. lily was telling me about the planning of it. i thought you’d be pleased, you’d be having fun. back to normal, you know. but you’re here. why are you here, james?”

“i’d rather be here, love,” he tells her, truthfully. he takes a flower from the bouquet he made for her and places it in her hair. “you know i would. you’re not a burden. you’re so beautiful, sweetheart. and kind, and sweet, and funny. and anything at the party, we can do here. don’t believe me? want to dance?”

james potter offers his hand to her. she takes it, of course. and then all of a sudden she’s smiling, tears disappearing, as he carefully helps her get up and sweeps her into his arms, humming a soft melody and swaying her back and forth slowly in a slow, sweet dance- careful to not pull on any of her tubes and wires. she nestles the top of her head into the crook of his neck, and he kisses her forehead gently.

“it’s me and you against this illness, love,” he says through hums. she smiles up at him.

“you, me, and the invisible string tying us together.”

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risetherivermoon · 11 months

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Part 8 - Sock's Fame Au

Part 8: A Violent Encounter (Love You James)

Part 7 <- -> Part 8.5

tag list: @jamofsunshine @okaythisisbecomingaproblem @my-beloved-fandoms @p-prettyboyzz

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padsmoony04 · 1 year

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My Favorite Headcannon of The Marauders pt.1 (maybe?)

Sooo ... long story short, I was looking for some headcannons about the Marauders (and because I love them and I love these thing of imagine how they would act and behave) I have decided to share with you some of my favorite headconnons about them.

Ps. Sorry in advance on my writing and all of that, my first lenguaje is not English sooo It might contain a lot of grammatical errors. Anyways it's my first time writing here so I hope you all enjoy this <3

| Sirius Black Pt2. | Remus Lupin Pt.3 |

James Potter EDITION.

First things first, you might agree with me, you might not agree with me, but I'm a truly believer that my boy here is certainly the reason the Marauders exist as a friend group. Maybe it was when they met on his first day on the Hogwarts express, kinda like a Harry and Ron dynamic. Or maybe it was at his first night in the castle when he realized who he was going to share his dorm with. Either way, it doesn't matter where, when, and how, but surely it all started with that sweet smile on James's face telling those boys to be his friends.

“It was James who had an ego the size of a lake but a heart to match it” THIS! This man was made to love people as much as he loves himself (and that is a lot).

We all already know he's one true passion and incondicional lover, Quidditch, I mean, that boy is obsesses.

He definitely has a lot of things in his wardrobe that have the color red, like shirts, shorts, coats, hats, a pair of convers, etc. And like they all are in different shades of red.

Blind. The boy is nearsighted, surely he has 4 or 6 myopia. And I know for a fact that if his glasses break, and he's not able to fix them, it would be the end of the world for him 'cause he won't distinguish a thing.

He is definitely stubborn, but like very, very stubborn. Tell James that he needs to stop, and for him, I'll be like, You just told him,"Go ahead! do it!".

He's literally a puppy, he's loyal, sweet, playful, he's always there when he's needed, and he also needs a lot of attention and love. Besides, when he makes someone that he cares about mad, he would do this thing of looking at the floor with a pout and regret in his ayes. How I said a literal puppy.

He loves to make jokes, most of them are bad jokes or dad jokes, which means that most of the time he laughs by himself.

He's the real definition of hopeless romantic and the definition of boyfriend material, and you can't change my mind.

He gives me the vibe that if he gets to the dining hall first, he will most likely save the boys a seat.

When he falls for someone, he falls badly. He would talk about that person every chance he gets. And of course, at one point, none of the boys will be able to stand him.

He's really persistent, which could be a positive or negative trait.

He's definitely the "You're doing it amazing sweety" of his friend group, and I'm here for it.

I like to believe that he has the snitch from his first game, which was given to him by Professor Mcgonagall as a memory of his first victory with Gryffindor, and think it's just something really sweet and I love it.

When someone makes a significant comment to him, he stiffens and blushes while blinking several times because he doesn't know how to respond to that.

He's really responsible in school (mainly 'cuase if he fails Euphemia would probably ground him). And yes, he doesn't reach Remus's and Lily's level, buuuut he has a tough competition with Sirius in "Who he's better that who?" When it comes to school.

Just because he's an only child and the complete center of attention most of the time, it hurts him a lot when people ignore him, mainly his friends and the ones he cares about.

He scratches the back of his neck slightly when he is nervous, and he also talks a lot.

He wakes up euphoric on the days that he has a Quidditch match, kinda like Harry when he drank the felix felicis/Liquid Luck potion in the 6th movie.

He is very protective of his friends, sometimes that can be too much, but he can't help it, he doesn't want anything bad happening to his loved ones.

Mommy's boy, all the way, he is literally Euphemia's little baby.

He's a little bit of the jealous kind. Not the toxic type, more of "Oh, that guy, it's flirting with you even though he knows I'm with you" type. (but he's never going to admit it thou).

you made him mad? Well, you better apologize really quick or just vanish. 'Cause whet he gets upset, he turns to the most mean, hateful, and biggest asshole you'll ever see, mainly cuase he's the type to keep his emotions to himsef, so when he explodes? He explodes.

An important fact is that after he "explodes," if he said something hurtful to you, he won't stop apologizing and cursing himself for being an ass until you forgive him.

His least favorite subject is potions, due to the fact that Severus won't stop bragging that he's a thousand times better than him.

If he gets drunk, he's the kind of soft drunk who gives hugs to everyone he comes across.

He is capable of learning about anything he's crush likes just to get into conversation with them.

He likes to stay late in the Gryffindor common room with his friends and talk about anything. It's a routine that he wouldn't change for anything in the world.

James always wanted a younger brother or sister, which explains why he couldn't help to be so happy when Sirius went to him the time he ran away from home.

He lends Peter his invisibility cloak so he can sneak into the kitchen to find food for the main fact that he's tiny.

He's very adorable in winter, his nose and cheeks turn red from the cold making him look adorable.

Talking about winter, the cold breeze gives him allergies. Don't ask me why I just know. Also, he LOVES Christmas as much as he loves Quidditch.

His favorite place in Hogsmeade is the three brooms.

Anyway, when it comes to color red, round glasses, dad jokes, butterbeer, quidditch, romance, loyalty, character, and determination are definitely the perfect words to describe James Potter.

#james potter headcanon #james potter x reader #james potter #marauders fanfiction #marauders era #james potter fanfiction #harry potter headcanon #james potter my beloved #aaron taylor johnson as james potter #aaron taylor johnson #hp marauders #marauders fanfic #the marauders imagine #the marauders #marauders #marauders headcanon #marauders x reader

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itsjaywalkers · 2 years

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james is so real for just going along with the engagement even though regulus calling him his fiancé in the arena was the first time he heard about it.. he's just happy to be there really!! and engaged apparently

#crimson rivers #crimson rivers ch 51 #jegulus #oh i adore him #james potter my beloved #can't blame him tbh #i'd do the same

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aotgylbk · 7 months

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james potter doesn’t love people, he adores them

#james potter #james potter my beloved #marauders #prongs #prongsie

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genderfluidregulusblack · 1 month

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happy birthday to the only man who somehow makes flannel look hot

#JAMES POTTER MY BELOVED #no srsly no one else could pull off flannel the way he would #james potter #the maruaders #marauders era

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lexithwrites · 4 months

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james potter getting a golden retriever puppy for his birthday and sobbing uncontrollably exclaiming 'im a dad now' while cradling it to his chest

#the others are just staring in disbelief #james potter #the marauders #random hc #james potter my beloved

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marauders-but-chaotix · 1 year

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James Potter would be the type of student to start his homework the day they are given to feel good about himself and feel like everything is planned out.

In reality, he would write the title and a few sentences only to put it away quickly to hang out and play quidditch instead.

In the end, Remus is the one that has to remind him to finish his paper because James somehow still believes he finished it all on the first try. Everyone think he is super organised but it's only a disguise over his messiness and forgetfulness.

#marauders #marauders era #atyd fandom #james potter #atyd #marauders imagine #atyd memes #james potter hogwarts #james potter headcanon #james potter hc #james potter and remus lupin #james potter my beloved #i do the same thing

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loop-deloo · 6 months

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i love cane user james. i love him he’s perfect.

#james potter my beloved

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lightvialamp · 1 year

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Happy birthday James Potter

#james fleamont potter #james potter my beloved #his birthday😭😭😭

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jegulus-trash · 2 months

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sirius: you guys can't kiss! that's incest!

james: no it isn't!

sirius: yes, it is, James.

james: we're not related!

sirius: oh, and that makes it okay, i suppose?

james: well, it makes it not incest.

#DERRY GIRLS MY BELOVED #i saw this one n SCREAMED bc jegulus behavior fr #jegulus #harry potter fandom #marauders #the marauders era #regulus black #starchaser #james potter #sirius black

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bealovesmarauders · 1 year

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never grow up / james potter

⋆ ࣪. ⁺⑅ ⋰˚ *.ﾟ .˳⁺⁎˚ ˚⁎⁺˳ . ༺ ˖

james potter x fem!afab! reader, reader has just given birth, tons of fluff, dad!james, slight rugby!james

wc: 1.4k

in which james can't get enough of his newborn daughter, and you don't want her to grow up

your little hand’s wrapped around my finger, and it’s so quiet in the world tonight, your little eyelids flutter cause you’re dreaming, so i tuck you in, turn on your favorite nightlight

a/n: this is so bad but i was in the mood to write a new dad!james blurb <3 so much fluff, beware. i'm really sorry i haven't been super active- i'm so incredibly busy rn- but hopefully this'll help!

masterlist

⋆ ࣪. ⁺⑅ ⋰˚ *.ﾟ .˳⁺⁎˚ ˚⁎⁺˳ . ༺ ˖

you’ve never seen james this in love before. he’s looking at you with teary eyes and the most adoring smile, gently caressing your hand and stroking your sweaty hair as he meets his daughter for the first time. your daughter, a perfect bundle of newborn bliss and thin wispy curls. “she has your eyes,” he murmurs, and the look of pure wonder on his face is what makes it all worth it- the morning sickness from the last nine months, the labor, the pain. and james has been so wonderful, picking up all of your cravings and cooking up delicious meals for you at any given chance- buttermilk waffles on sunday mornings, alfredo or pesto pasta most nights. he’s promised you penne alla vodka the first night back at home, but right now the two of you are soaking up your baby girl, tenderly brushing her doll-like cheeks with your fingers. it’s dawn, and sunlight spills through the window of the hospital room; the first sunrise with your daughter almost complete.

when visiting hours open, there’s sure to be commotion. sirius and remus have already dropped flowers off, a huge bouquet late last night as soon as they heard you went into labor. lily will come, and so will all the others, and you know euphemia and fleamont are desperate to meet their first grandchild- they’d kill james if anyone else met her first. but right now, you are a family. once two, now three, enjoying the first few moments of a new day together- james’s broad frame is smushed beside you in the hospital bed, determined to share your daughter’s first snuggle.

“she’s perfect,” james whispers breathlessly, voice laced with contentment, hushed as to not wake her. you catch his eye and soak him up. he’s smiling and you’re happy and both of you are exhausted, face buried in his warm shoulder. you can feel the curve of his bicep, and it comforts you. the baby is close to his chest, and his hold on her is gentle and careful, as if she were made of porcelain. you prayed his rugby training wouldn’t influence his baby-carrying skills, and yet he’s surpassed all your expectations. james’s soft, dark curls tickle the top of your head and you inhale the scent of his jumper, breathing in his loveliness. once your baby is taken by the nurses for her first feed of the day, he’ll massage your shoulders- he knows they must be sore from spending all day in the hospital. he’s already tracing gentle circles on your back, one hand on each of his girls. his touch is careful, fingers trailing up your back to cup the nape of your neck, and you relax into his grasp. it’s a moment of peace and safety in the chaotic world of the maternity ward, and the action speaks louder than words ever will.

james, thankfully, had just gotten home from rugby when your water broke, changing his kit and coming out of the shower when he heard a large crash in the kitchen. he'd immediately dropped the towel he was drying his wet hair with and rushed to find you, clad only in sweatpants and a muscle tank, only to find you’d dropped the laundry basket in shock. you were scared, eyes wide, brimming with tears from the fear, and as he drove you to the hospital, go-bag at the ready, he was scared too.

james has always hated seeing you hurt. but this was different. it's not a paper cut he can put a bandaid on, or a sore bruise he can kiss away. he's never seen you as vulnerable as the way you were just a few hours ago giving birth, crying out in pain and tears trickling down your pretty cheeks. up until your daughter was actually born, james kept repeating "deep breaths" over and over again, because all he wanted to do was take away the pain- whether the mantra was for your sake or his own is up to interpretation. the only other thing running through his mind at the time was the fact that it hit him- he was going to be a dad. james had dreamed about it for so long- practiced reading fairytales and storybooks to your tummy- bought miniature newborn-sized rugby jerseys- and now his wish had finally been granted.

lying together in the hospital bed now, you’re struck with a sudden hit of bittersweetness, nostalgia for the present moment. in five years- ten years- twenty- you will look back on this moment and hold it close to your heart. your daughter will go to kindergarten, elementary school, so on. she may even have a sibling or two, and it pains you to think of her already growing up. but james is humming a little tune, and his voice grounds you. you squeeze his bicep gently and drop a sweet kiss on your daughter’s head. wispy curls are already beginning to appear, and you know without a doubt she’s going to be just like her father.

“oh, darling,” james says, and you swear you’ve never been happier than in this moment with him and your baby. “m’beautiful girls. i love you, sweetheart. you’re going t’be the best mum, i just know it.”

and he’s right.

if you've made it this far, i love you. thank you for reading<;3

here’s a bonus little thing just cause i really wanted to write an extra coming home / the marauders meeting the baby scene. this is super rushed but i thought it was kinda cute

sirius and remus come bearing gifts- another bouquet, and two chocolate milkshakes. “you deserve it,” remus told you, before turning his attention onto the baby and cooing. you think it’s sweet how attached he and sirius are already. they are her godfathers, after all. but then- “jamie, i don’t have any pants.”

all three boys turn their eyes on you, puzzled, momentarily drawn away from the newborn. the frown on your face grows more prominent, and your face looks like it's about to crumple, but james figures it out. “shit, y'mean the go bag. i can’t believe we forgot a change of clothes. s'alright, baby. i'm sure siri wouldn't mind if he ran home quickly and got a pair of my sweatpants for you to wear?"

sirius nods vigorously, and remus is about to toss him the keys but decides against it. “we'll get out of your hair, mate. which joggers do you want?"

“the grey ones," james says confidently. you know the pair he's referring to- you've worn them a few times before and they're the softest clothes you've ever worn. remus passes your daughter back, and you bounce her a little to try to stifle her tiny cries. “oh, and one of his t-shirts too? my bra is killing me."

sirius smirks, but refrains from making any comments. he's sure you're sore after giving birth. he and remus run off, and james shoots them a grateful smile before getting you- and baby- situated. the nurse comes in to take your IV out from the epidural, clucking about like a mother hen, and james holds your free hand as it's carefully extracted, wincing when he sees the remnants of the failed needle pokes as it's finally discarded. rem and siri are back quickly, and when the doctor officially discharges you and the baby, james shoos the boys out of the room and very carefully helps you stand up. you wobble, and he's quick to catch you. untying the back of the hospital gown, he quickly unclasps your bra and gently eases it off, softly slipping his t-shirt over your head and shoulders. james is a tall guy, so his tees are baggy and oversized on you- the perfect comfort clothes to snuggle into. his sweatpants prove to be a larger challenge, but with the help of the hospital bed, you manage. and at last, james is wheeling you out of the hospital, daughter in arms, kissing your forehead gently and driving your little family home, the boys trailing behind for “moral support”. (sirius is just after all of the comfort food euphemia’s dropped off). after the short drive, you're prepared to struggle going up the stairs of the apartment due to, well, the fact that you’ve just given birth, but remus and sirius take your daughter up in her car seat, and james picks you up in one fell swoop, giving you an adoring smile.

“come on, darling. m'gonna get you n’ baby all nice and cozy."

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