A moment from the brilliant fic Ceasefire – by hollycomb
I just loved this part. Hux
going from a General who had everything he could want, taken to this one moment
in time where he feels he has nothing. Not even the clothing on his back is his.
Sometimes I get curious and read the tags on Hux photosets and I’m always so amused at how thirsty we all are for scary shouty murder ginger and for some reason I can’t stop thinking about Hux scrolling through tumblr tags of himself and either blushing furiously from the unexpected flattery or being supremely annoyed because he was going for terrifying, god damn it, and you fuicking hooligans can’t keep your minds out of the gutter D:<
Can You Bring Me The Gun of Rambo? 