It was a slow, long, boring day for Darth Vader in the beautiful lands, and lush forests of Endor. There were almost no rebels there any more. After the second Death Star was destroyed they all fled Endor. Thus leaving lord Vader to grieve the loss of his master, and his home that they blew up.
Habit has Han slumping in his chair again. His legs stretched out and contradicted resilient muscle, scalding a cold burn that feels absolutely wonderful for how much they’ve been aching lately. Before Luke had invited him, he’d been gone on a run that went more than a little sour. Situations where he had to run for life, blaster shots zeroing in on their target — him, came in ample amounts. Maybe this is his due reward for the kind of life Han has so far lived. Perhaps those ancient goddesses of Corelli his older sister had told him stories of having something much better planned for him than a life of illegal spice smuggling. Although Han doubts it, by reason of the fact he rather enjoyed his thrilling adventures in spite of how life threatening
The wind whispers words that are foreign. It speaks a language that man has understood since his beginning, but as it can only be understood once it is foreign to most men. The wind carries something lethal, it is the harbinger of an evil inflicted by man upon man, it speaks nothing but death. A brief silence follows in its absence, and takes ahold of the battlefield. Now and then one can hear the desperate breaths of men unwilling to part with life, but these too are snuffed out, choked under a hellish canopy made of gunpowder powder, soot, and mud. This is the worst part. The battle is always the worst part. He knows this too well to be bothered by these scenes that unfold before him.
Most would call this battle a success. He shook his heavy mane of feathers while he ran as if trying to eliminate the memory of Zee exploding into flame. The loss of a single Gryphon life is too much to bear. How many more have to die in this war? He snorted, turning his head into the wind. Father feels we are close now. The Tlo%m war machine is weakening. They are losing too many soldiers, and their weapons do not work well within our protective planetary shield. Yet I have lost three warriors in the last two battles. Each one is like a blade in my heart.
The Emperor’s Wrath woke up in a cold sweat, the droplets falling off her face and onto her bed, mixing with her tears streaming down her cheeks. The images of her nightmare were flashing before her eyes, showing her the same thing over and over again. She felt the screams as if it just had happened even though it months had passed. The screams that crawled under her skin, that picked at her, reminded her. Reminded her of how she wasn’t good enough. She wanted to pick at them, at her skin, pick at them until they left her and gave her peace. But she knew that they weren’t there, they weren’t picking at her or taunting her, they were just her nightmares. Nothing will harm her here.
Brett smirked in reply, his eyes moving from Elena's body and dripping pussy to trail the movement of the cube up, then locking on her face. As gorgeous as the woman's form was, and the many temptations she had to offer, he was entranced by her features, and her expressions and moans as he dripped the cold water onto his skin had his already aching shaft threatening to rip through the seams of his boxers.
Your head was aching from working today. Your boss kept, well, bossing around. “Y/N do this, Y/N do that, blah blah blah.”, you grumbled. You put your key in the lock and opened the door. You could hear Stiles and your son arguing about, Star Wars, again? Once you walked into the living room, you let your bag fall on the ground of astonishment, the room was a complete mess. “What happened here?!” You looked at them and your son stood up, running to you. “Daddy and I made a hut out of blankets and other stuff!” You sighed and crouched down to your 5-year-old son. “Sweetheart, that’s really nice, but you and daddy have to clean up everything. Otherwise we have to cancel Star Wars night.” He nodded and began picking up his toys. You walked over to Stiles, who has been looking at his feet the whole time. “You, upstairs.”, you commanded him and he did what you said.
With this in mind, Han and Renshaw gives several studies have reported that video and on-line game play may improve visuospatial capacity, visual acuity, task switching, decision making and object tracking in healthy individuals. Moreover, Han and Renshaw feels like Green and Bavelier that gaming have most benefits than negative effects on the mind. Han and Renshaw argues that any kind of changes of one’s behavior and or alterations of the mind comes down to the individual and the specific kind of game. They show early studies state internet addiction (involving game playing) reported altered social behavior, increases aggression, loneliness, reduces attention and depressed mood in patients with internet addiction. Important to mention, more
Ready to step in for anyone at any time, Zendaya watches on the sideline cheering on her teammates. It is the sixth inning, tie game, and her best friend Nadia is up to bat. She hits the ball hard and gets a double. There is now two outs with Nadia on second. Can the cleanup batter do the job? She hits it to the fence, the ball bounces off the yellow, Nadia is heading home, but the throw is spot on. Nadia dives head first into home plate in hopes that she would be safe and add a run to the score board. When she dove head first into the plate, all she could see was the catcher blocking the plate and a cloud of dust. There was no going around her. She managed to get a finger on the plate before the catcher got the tag on her. The catcher
I wake up to hammering going on in different parts of the house. Slowly opening my eyes I turn my head to the window to see if the sun is up at least. My curtains are closed shut complately letting in no form of light.
General Patrick finally took notice of the trident on the uniforms of all of the men sitting at the table, not to mention the tape on the uniforms that read ‘US Navy’. “How the hell….” General Patrick said out loud.
The tickets had been a gift from his brother Shiro, and he couldn't really say he was disappointed. Keith had never tried to go to warped tour before, because it simply wasn't a priority. He felt a little anxious being alone in such a big crowd but when he was surrounded by the people and music he loved, he learned to adjust. The open air smelled of weed and sweat and the hot sun beat down on all of the attendees of this event. It was tempting to sit on a curb and watch as other people passed, but somehow, a worker had caught Keith's eye.