Gentrification is the consumption of the working class.
They do a lot of talking in the sweet air of the control room, about everything and nothing.
Desire can't move past, only onward.
“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.
Tybalt and Mercutio were childhood friends, of a sort.
After everyone but himself and Jyn died on Scarif, Bodhi did his best to hide from anything resembling excitement. Unfortunately, the Force - and the New Republic - had other plans.
Tsukishima knew if he didn't look now, he never would, so he steeled himself. “If you want to show me, then show me, sir.”
Tsurumi kept one hand on Tsukishima’s shoulder and pulled away the headplate with the other, setting it down on the bedside table.
Old (2012-ish!) fanart of Anders Dragonage from my fic Rabbit Heart. Technically unfinished… just like the fic!
Prompt: "swimming in the buff". Carcer watches with ill intent.