Tag: art

jeusus:

 I know you

Do you? Maybe we met at one of my father’s rallies. I’m afraid I don’t remember you. 

No, we meet in the future. In a long time. Very far from here. 

Oookay. I heard number of weird pick up lines tonight, but this one takes the cake. 

You will forget this encounter.

I will forget this encounter. 

jeusus:

K: You played volleyball?

H: What? No, I told you I took boxing at the academy. 

K: You ought to contact that holosite then, cause you’re listed as 3 times  champion while playing for the Arkanis Academy volleyball team AND also as being their beloved and feared mascot. Looking at the pictures, I understand why, that’s some serious skills you’re displaying right here.

H: Oh stars, I’ve had these pictures wiped out 10 years ago and executed the holosite owner how could you possibly find them?

K: Did you keep the uniform?

huxsmug:

Ok, I found this on the Topps app and I couldn’t stop laughing. It’s part of the Vintage Propaganda series.

I couldn’t stop laughing because I can totally see Kylo doing this to Hux to shut him up haha.

Like one day post-tlj, Hux is annoying Kylo because he wants another Starkiller Base (notice the blueprints in the Imperial officer’s hand) but Kylo has enough and he does this to shut him up…

orange-lightsaber:

“They took of holo of me,” he says, punctuating the silence with a drag on his cigarette. “A gaudy thing, made me pose and everything. Not my idea of course.”

He hears Ren’s sharp intake of breath, loud in the darkness. Hux remembers the holo exactly. The bright red brand of the cigarette the only light, the Senator’s blood still warm on his shirt–searing his skin. He’d known even then it would mean a promotion. General Hux.

He wasn’t sure why he’d let them take the holo. Or perhaps he simply hadn’t yet admitted it to himself. That awful truth that people were easiest to manipulate when they were all just the slightest bit in love with you. He stroked his fingers through Ren’s hair, contemplative in the silence.

Ren fidgets in the bed beside him. “Show me,” he pleads.

“I didn’t keep it,” he replies, furrowing his brow in annoyance.

“No,” says Ren, pressing a palm against either side of Hux’s face, grip hot, the weight of his body stifling. Familiar, always too familiar. Taking liberties. He presses his forehead against Hux’s, breath mingling. “Show me. Hux. Please.”

“Ren.” He shouldn’t, he knows. Shouldn’t give the Knight this piece of him, this private glimpse into his mind. To give Ren an inch is to give him a mile. But he does, anyway, despite himself–relaxes into Ren’s touch and opens his mind. And its easy, so easy to let him in.

He needs to keep his distance.

Ren’s breath hitches subtly in his throat and Hux knows he can see it, but all Hux can see is Ren. Ren, above him, illuminated and darkened in the shifting light of his cigarette. Shadows bloom, catching in the hollow of his throat, threading into his dark hair as he closes his eyes. The movement of chest and shoulders and neck as he breathes.

Yes, thinks Hux, he needs to keep his distance.