“Why do you wear your face like that?”
Nie Huaisang's hand comes up partway to Meng Yao's face before his fingers curl inwards. Meng Yao's eyes go wide and tremulous before the corners of his mouth curl into a small smile, like one of the soundless laughs shared between them in the midst of a banquet speech.
Nightmares are rarely invented entirely out of whole cloth.
Gentrification is the consumption of the working class.
There are worse things than being lashed.
Evening is the customary time for intercourse, David has helpfully informed her, but it makes no difference here. Nothing makes any difference.
On Bazzard's first Christmas in London, the thorn of anxiety is keenly felt, and then drawn out a little.
Old (2012-ish!) fanart of Anders Dragonage from my fic Rabbit Heart. Technically unfinished… just like the fic!
They do a lot of talking in the sweet air of the control room, about everything and nothing.
Tomorrow, then, Hal comes again. Satisfaction is not requital, and once is not enough.
Jack convinces a hungry Zhao Zi to stay in bed with him and have some fun.