lindos124

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I headcanon that all of Yoda's finest teacups were made by younglings

In fact most masters of the order's finest teacups were made during crèche crafting time when the kids were learning pottery.

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by Gustaf Emanuelsson

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Republicans have cottage cheese for brains because the baby does try to abort the mother like with regularity

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Neil in Baltimore: I want—I know I shouldn't stay, but I can't—I don't want to lose this. I don't want to lose any of you. .. Even Aaron.

Aaron: Dude.

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Ash & Eiji || Banana Fish #10

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I feel like its an underrated fact the Neil flat out told Kevin and Wymack that recruiting him was a mistake and tried his best yo get them to leave him alone in Milport.....they have nothing to blame but themselves for the chaos that followed, my guy said point blank it was a bad idea.

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vash the. the stampede

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I need attention....

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I'll finish it

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John Cooke (British, 1929–2018) - Winter Evening, My Studio

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The King's Men - Chapter Seven

Day: Saturday, January 13th Time: 3:05 PM EST

"I don't think it was the money," Andrew said, and elaborated at Neil's questioning look: "Why they chased you so long. I imagine at some point they realized it was far more important to hurt you than to recoup anything they'd lost." "So you say, but you still won't hit me." Andrew stubbed his cigarette out between them. "The time is fast approaching." Neil studied his face, looking for a hint of the earlier fathomless anger and finding nothing. Despite Andrew's unfriendly words, his expression and tone were calm. He said these things like they meant nothing to him. Neil didn't know if it was a mask or the truth. Was Andrew hiding that rage from Neil or from himself? Maybe the monster was buried where neither of them could find it until Neil crossed another unforgivable line. "Good," Neil said at length. Tugging a sleeping dragon's tail sounded like a good way to die a painful death, but Neil would be dead before Andrew's protection wore off. "I want to see you lose control." Andrew went still with his hand halfway to the vodka. "Last year you wanted to live. Now you seem hell-bent on getting killed. If I felt like playing another round with you right now, I would ask why you've had a change of heart. As it stands, I've had enough of your stupidity to last me a week. Go back inside and bother the others now." Neil feigned confusion as he got to his feet. "Am I bothering you?" "Beyond the telling." "Interesting," Neil said. "Last week you said nothing gets under your skin." Andrew didn't waste his breath responding, but Neil counted it as a victory. He tossed his cigarette into the wind and went back inside alone.

Art used with permission by Karasawr. Thank you @karasawr!

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Could you be more specific? That's still not specific enough. I really don't think you understand the problem.

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The King's Men - Chapter Five

Day: Friday, January 12th Time: 12:42 PM EST

The Foxes scattered at Wymack's okay, half of them to look out the window and the rest to dump their carry-ons on whatever empty chairs they could find. It took Neil only a moment to realize Andrew hadn't budged. Neil looked back at him, but Andrew was staring out the far window. Neil followed his gaze and watched a plane rocket down the runway. The others weren't close enough anymore to overhear, so Neil said, "When you said you were afraid of heights, you were joking, right?" He gave Andrew a moment to answer, then tried again. "Andrew, you can't be. What were you doing on the roof?" Andrew didn't answer immediately, but the tilt of his head to one side said he was thinking about it. Neil didn't know if he was searching for words or just figuring out which ones he wanted to give Neil in explanation. Finally Andrew lifted a hand to his own throat and felt for his pulse. He tapped his finger along when he found it. It was going faster than it should. Neil blamed it on Andrew's surroundings. "Feeling," Andrew said at last. "Trying to remember fear, or trying to remember how to feel anything at all?" Neil asked, but Andrew didn't answer. Neil tried a different tactic. "If it makes you feel better, fewer than twenty planes crash every year and it's not always due to the weather. Sometimes pilots are just unreliable. I'm sure it's a quick death either way." Andrew's hand went still. "What was his name?" He looked to Neil, who frowned confusion at him, and said, "Your father. What was his name?" It almost knocked the breath out of him. Neil didn't want to answer, didn't want that name out in the air between them, but it was Andrew's turn in their game. He didn't have the right to refuse. He tried to take a little comfort in it, because Andrew wouldn't hit this low unless Neil's taunt had gotten to him, but Neil couldn't quite manage. He looked to the Foxes, made sure they were still out of earshot, and stepped closer to Andrew anyway. "Nathan," he said at last. "His name was Nathan." "You don't look like a Nathan." "I'm not," Neil said through the stones in his throat. "I'm Nathaniel." Andrew considered him a minute longer, then turned away without another word and went back to watching the runways.

Art used with permission by Lunapiq. Thank you @lunapiq