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♪
send me ♪ for a song that reminds me of your muse
happiness & disaster || stabilo
you couldn't find two people more different on the shores of love and wading in together is dangerous 'til she grabs you by the wrist disarms you with a kiss, and you forget about the angry shadows hanging round your neck
jcharlus
"If you do ever find yourself marrying Ms. Evans I do require a seat in your wedding."
♚ ♚ (one for James and one for Harry)
James
When they were twelve, it wasn't uncommon for them to share a bed. After nightmares -- generally featuring his mother, but sometimes his brother, too -- he'd creep wordlessly into James' bed, and James would let him, despite the complaining about his hair getting everywhere and his feet being cold.When they were fifteen, they still did, from time to time -- but they were growing boys, all elbows and long limbs, and more than once Sirius was woken by the wind being knocked out of him.At seventeen, they'd grown out of it, mostly, though that's not to say the evenings never found Sirius sprawled across James' bed, laughing at some joke or other, all careless grace and a total lack of concern for personal space, as always.He wishes they were twelve again, when sleep seemed easy. James looks tired whenever he seems him -- dark-ringed eyes behind his glasses a little weary -- and Sirius can understand it, with a wife and a child and a war.They're far too old to sleep in the same bed. But when James nods off, Sirius daren't disturb him. He deserves the few snatched hours he gets.And if Sirius rests his chin on James' messy hair and pulls the covers up and maybe wraps an arm around his friend -- well, a part of them will always be twelve, somewhere.
Harry
He's not cut out for parenting.
He knew this the day that he insisted, fiercely, that he be allowed to keep Harry, to care for him. Remus had told him, later, that it had been the growl in his voice that had cinched it, and the way his hackles had been raised like a dog gearing up to fight. No one wanted to fight Sirius Black for his family.
Still, they've muddled by -- and it is a they, because Remus had sort of melted into their lives to say things like no, Sirius, he's two, you can't let him play with your wand, or no, Sirius, that's not how that works, or no Sirius, here, let me.
Still, here he is and Harry's seven, and no one's died yet or even been seriously injured, although it was a close call when Sirius tripped over the toy broomstick he himself had bought his godson.
And it's the night before Christmas, and the little tyke has been determined not to sleep, not a wink, not until it's Christmas day and there are presents and friends and food. Sirius had done his best to tire him out, but to no avail; the boy has endless energy, and Sirius can't help but think of James at eleven, never stopping, not even for a moment.
It's James that does it. He sits Harry on his knee and begins to tell him about every Christmas he'd spent with his mum and his dad, the presents James had got Lily and which had been firmly sent back, the ones that had been kept but not mentioned, the ones that had, eventually, been accepted with a smile and a kiss to his cheek.
He never lets Harry forget, not for a day, how much his parents loved him, and so he also tells him about the presents they gave him that first Christmas, the things they planned for the one after that, James already eager to start planning when even Lily was too busy with this Christmas to think too much about it.
But by then, he's already asleep, head tucked against Sirius' chest, and as the man carries him upstairs and tucks him into bed and kisses his forehead, he smiles and tells him merry Christmas, and whispers the same to the photo of Lily and James on the way out of the door, smiling at their carefree grins and interlaced fingers, gloved against the cold of so many winters ago.
jcharlus replied to your post:
[grabby hands for the first one]
[added a starter to my to-do list ayyy]
◘
( meme )
My dearest James, You're an idiot. My mum wants to know when you'll be over to visit? Actually, she wants to know when both you and Sirius will be over. I am convinced she likes you two better than me at times, which is rather bothersome. She's on a kick that she's got to find me a husband, and apparently she'd like to start with you both. I swear, I'm going to just jinx her mouth shut one of these days... and then she'll want to kill me so I may end up just running about as a fox for the rest of my life. Foxes don't get married and they don't have to deal with crazy mothers.
Write back soon! Love, Clara.
jcharlus
[text] because before you passed out, you kept trying to hit me with the rake [text] I tried to help and you tried to stab me with it!
[text] well that does not sound like me at all [text] i really tried to stab you?
dibsdibsdibsdibsdibsdibsdibsdibsdibsdibsdibsdibsdibsdibsdibsdibs
send me a 'dibs' if you are ridiculously attached to me as an rp partner ;
;outofthelookinglass: forever and always, my love. <33
◭
Send me a ◭ and I'll tell you something my character does or would likely do around yours that is unique or specialized to their interactions.
Really, though he'd never admit it, James isthe focal point of his everything.
The age-old 'would you throw yourself off a roof if I asked you to' scenario has been tried and tested, that regrettable february night in third year that had ended with James' terrified face peering down at him in the darkness, hand clutching at Sirius' arm as the boy laughed hysterically and chanted I thought you had a plan.
No one else gets that. Oh, sure, he'd die for Remus and for Peter, but he'd really prefer a reason to do so, first. Perhaps it's because James had been the first to really show him that family doesn't just mean blood, or perhaps it's because James just has that effect on everyone.
Jump. How high. That's what James gets. Jump. No question. Jump.
Luckily, Sirius doesn't ever doubt that James will be jumping with him.
