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the point of fanfiction is that you can write whatever the fuck you want forever and no one can stop you. #thepower

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"I love Lily Evans"

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prompt: athlete

james almost never misses. almost. never. and these rare misses certainly don't happen outside of high-stake tournaments or practice matches. it's why he's on the national team, for god's sake. it's why he's team captain .

today though, he's in a bad mood — sirius and remus are fighting again, and peter's phone can't be reached (as it usually is at any sign of trouble) — and that makes james off by three degrees, and apparently that's enough to nearly kill someone. jesus.

he's not even aiming at anything in particular anymore — which, okay, is probably what does it. coach meadowes and the rest of the team are gone, he's the only one left in the range. practice is over. it was awful. throughout, james's grip was wrong, his rhythm shot. meadowes never yells, but she has this tone, monotonous and ice-cold, which is so much worse than if she did yell, mind. he can still hear her voice in his head: too tense. you're overcorrecting. stop shooting like you're indoors! terrible anchor point. your window's closing, you're holding too long, what is up with you today? again. no. again. do it again...

he lets the arrow go now, the whistle as it slices through the air mildly comforting, and then —

a yelp. a thud.  james's heart skipping a beat, his skin crawling in panic.

he whips his head to the source of the noise and sees her — on the grassy ground six feet beyond the range barrier, beneath the beech tree, surrounded by her bag and a mess of items. his arrow had buried itself into the tree trunk inches from where he's assuming she just was. (he would know; he's sat there himself many times with his friends. although never during practice. it's directly behind the targets what the fuck.)

"what the hell are you doing back there?" he calls, running up to her. it's amazing to have missed her; her hair is so red against the greenery. he wouldn't be surprised if his arrow sought it to score.

she sits up properly, brushing off her skirt. she seems okay. calm, at least.

"are you okay? are you hurt? i'm so sorry — "

"i'm alright," she assures him, managing a smile. he helps her collect her things — they must have scattered when she jumped out of the way. among the items: a sketchbook, a charcoal pencil, a box of colored pencils, some pastels.

"you could've died," he notes.

"you could've killed me," she corrects. like, yes, okay, geez. but what was the point of turning it on him like that. they're both at fault here. he wasn't paying attention, sure. but this area is also off-limits to other students. 

before he can answer though, she holds up the sketchbook. to his surprise, his own likeness stares back at him — careful charcoal strokes of his hair all over the place, his glasses catching light. taut shoulders and arms poised to shoot. 

he blinks. "that's — you were drawing me?"

"did you know you kind of pucker your lips when you aim?" she asks. the words sound like they're mocking, but she's serious, matter-of-fact. she said it in the same way remus does his random bug trivia sometimes. (sirius hates them, but he remembers every single one.) "like, do you do that on purpose?"

" — what?"

/

@jilymicrofics prompt: athlete. (a slightly longer @jilymicro-oops version here.)

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lily wearing flowy skirts because james always stares, blushes, and forgets what he was saying

james wearing his hair messier every day because lily teased him about it one time

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Why the fuck are you 30+ on tumblr

this is my house?

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“you’re so quiet” yeah i’m rewriting the same 3 sentences in my head while imagining a dramatic betrayal between fictional people. i’m BUSY

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CARLOS ALCARAZ French Open 2025

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BINGO CARD DROP!!!!!

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its crazy how so many people do not understand that social isolation isnt just sitting alone in your apartment all day never speaking to anyone you could be surrounded by acquaintances and friends but have absolutely no genuine connection or shared values so every interaction is shallow its basically just as bad as being alone if not worse

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Whispers of "Are you sure?" "Never have I ever before"

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it’s funny that people on twitter hate tumblr so virulently bc i get it if you are logging on for the first time in 2025 tumblr probably does suck. however i wouldn’t know because i have been carefully curating my dash experience and mutual circle since 2011 and my circle of tumblrinas taken by itself is the greatest social networking site of all time