#the light was nice

[hannahssimblr]

I shift my weight from one foot to the other. The afternoon sun beats down against the back of my neck and I blink and drag my forearm across my face as a bead of sweat migrates from my eyebrow into my eye. With a loud pop, Shane drives the tennis ball towards me with his powerful right arm and it dives sharply to the ground in front of me. I spin it back with ease and send it screaming towards the baseline, past him and out of reach.

“Nice,” Jen says lazily. She’s sitting on the ground on the sidelines with Joe and they are sharing the single cigarette that they managed to bum off a boat club patron trying to enjoy a smoke with his lunch. “Gotta be quicker, Shane.”

He ignores her and bounces the ball a few times in preparation for his next serve. He tosses the fuzzy sphere into the sky and slams it over the net. I whack it back with my left hand. Easy. Shane is strong but I am fast, agile, quick like a whip. He’ll never beat me at tennis. We hit back and forth a few times before I spin the ball right at his feet and he swings. And misses. And flings his racket onto the astroturf. 

“Done,” He proclaims, “It’s too hot, I’m pure sweaty now.”

He was never good in the heat, he’s always bathed in sweat, his t-shirt soaked, his hair wet with it, but not me. I have Chihuahuan Desert blood in me, raised in that withering heat, of dry earth, cacti and oleander, diamondback rattlesnakes and paleozoic rock, the dryland doesn’t give a shit about anybody. 

Ireland in July is just fine for me. 

I sling my racket over my shoulder and saunter toward the net, “C’mon, Shane, is that all you’ve got?”

He grunts, “get one of the lads to play against you.”

“Not us,” Jen pipes up, “At least not me.”

Joe shakes his head, “Not me either, you’re a sore winner.”

I scoff, “A sore winner? C’mon, you’re all just afraid to lose.”

“Not afraid, it’s just boring when there’s like, a 100% chance that it’s going to happen, look,” Jen sucks the last of the cigarette and flicks it away, “We know you love winning and you think you’re so great and all that-”

I’ve stopped listening, Clóda has just come out of the lounge with a tray of tea.

“Hey,” I jog over as she serves a table by the court.

She glances shyly at me, “Hey.”

“How are you?”

“I’m good, oops-” her trembling hands spill a drop of milk from the little white ceramic jug she is putting onto the table. She apologises to the customers and mops the spot quickly with a cloth while I rock back and forth on my heels. She straightens up and walks me to the edge of the terrace, and though she is trying to look serious I know I have amused her, “You know, I’m working.

“That’s okay, I don’t mind.” I bend to kiss her. 

“You’re cheeky,” She giggles and pushes me away, “Come back when I’m off.”

“Yeah? When is that?”

“Four, but you’ll be picking up your sister from the kids club then.”

“Not today, my mom is back from Dublin. I’m all yours.”

“Oh, well, that’s good.”

“Will you go somewhere with me?”

“Where?”

“Somewhere nice.”

“Very specific,” she rolls her eyes and turns around nervously to where her dad is now standing at the patio door and staring me down with what I’m sure he thinks is an intimidating look on his face. I grin at him and throw him a big sarcastic thumbs up. 

“For a walk,” I clarify, “If your dad is okay with that. Maybe he’ll request a chaperone.”

“My dad is not okay with that, but I’m not planning on telling him about it.”

I shrug, “Okay.”

“Alright then.”

“What are you doing standing here talking to me, huh? Don’t you have work to do?”

She laughs to herself as she walks away from me.

“Lazy,” I call after her. “I think I’ll write in and complain to management.”

She gives me the finger. 

When I turn back around to my friends they look suitably unimpressed, but they’re just jealous. “You sure about that rematch, Shane?”

His jaw is set as he whips three tennis balls out of his pockets and whacks them directly at me at the speed of bullets before I have time to respond. Every one of them bounces directly off my innocent body. 

“Ow!” I protest, “What’s gotten into you? Calm down, jesus!”

Beginning // Prev // Next

[palarien]

sketched this out at jury duty actually

[maviyenot]

[greykolla-art]

Alastor: “Now, let’s talk about literally anything else please!”

Me: “Good! Cause I don’t know where you went so I can’t go further with this!😂”

[canisalbus]

[lgbtlunaverse]

Fanon likes to portray Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangji as being jealous of each other because they fear wei wuxian will choose one of them over the other. Which is ignoring the fact that at least in novel canon Jiang Cheng did not even fucking know wangxian ever got along let alone that lwj was in love with wwx until at the very end of the story (in cql canon he does go through a wangxian phase early on and gets very confused by their "breakup" during wwx's sunshot era) and that Lan Wangji is mostly filled with loathing towards both himself and Jiang Cheng for 'abandoning' Wei Wuxian and not being able to save him.

It also ignores the much bigger point that both Lan Wangji and Jiang Cheng are actually jealous of Wen Ning. And why wouldn't they be? That is who Wei Wuxian chose in his first life. He left the Jiang, told Lan Wangji to fuck off no he is not coming to gusu with you, and spent his days with his little-brother-shaped corpse bestie on his mountain in yiling. And then when he came back he immediately called him up the second he could string together more than two notes on a flute. Wen Ning is the real competition. (And he's winning)

[egophiliac]

was this anyone else's first thought, or

[hugs-and-stabbies]

The self-awareness on this guy 😞 someone pls send him an "are you bi?" quiz STAT

[zondearts]

another practice painting based on a wip I'm procrastinating on

[heartorbit]

figure skating set right now please. thanks

[equusmaniac]

Megatron's tears...

A rendering test I did on Ibis Paint. It's my first real try using that app and it was super nice! I'll have ta give it a go again here soon.

The reference. ^

[lilislegacy]

*percy seen from a far, wearing a suit*

piper: do my eyes deceive me or is percy jackson wearing formal clothes? since when does he have the ability to look like a domesticated human being?

frank: how come HE, percy of all people, king of untidiness, can wear a cream linen suit and look like a celebrity, but when i tried one on i looked like a man-child going to a high school dance?

hazel: sweetie it’s just because it’s such a casual suit, and you’re much more elegant than percy is!

annabeth, turning to them: um okay, hi percy’s best friends? can you guys compliment him without insulting him?

leo: his ass looks incredible.

grover: has he been working out?

annabeth, side eyeing them:

annabeth: okay, you have all now either insulted him or hit on him. how about from now on, you do neither?

rachel: how about we do both? because i’ve actually just perfected doing them at the same time

[bluepandadraws-log]

The Amazing Digital COMIC #39-Holdin' Up

☕Ko-Fi || [❤PREV] || [🧡START🧡] || [NEXT💙] || Full Comic🎪

[maviyenot]

[lesbianballofgender]

Happy 55th birthday to our feral, light and fluffy, serious actor and truly just the nicest person: Michael Sheen!!

[quinns-art-box]

"and then... be friends after you escape, okay? i think you'll all be the best of friends."

finally done with this piece i've been messing with for a really long time :] just something about kaede's impact on everyone else and all their attempts to get out of there