One Nice Bug Per Day
dirt enthusiast
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
Love Begins
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
No title available
todays bird
noise dept.
Stranger Things
JVL
祝日 / Permanent Vacation
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
i don't do bad sauce passes
@theartofmadeline
h
ojovivo
No title available
YOU ARE THE REASON
Origami Around
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@infiltrationtactics
@infiltrationtactics
“Why are you here?”
"Why must there be a reason? Perhaps I'm only here because I wish to admire our esteemed General."
Flattery comes on too thick and, though it is meant to test uncharted waters, Arris doubts favor can be so easily won with her blatant fawning.
Still --
"An INSPIRATION to us all."
HOUSE OF CARDS SEASON 3 SENTENCE STARTERS
SPOILER WARNING - SEASON 1 + 2 SENTENCE STARTERS HERE
Change pronouns / descriptors as necessary!
“I wouldn’t be here if I had a choice, but I have to do these sorts of things now.”
“Nobody showed up at his funeral, except me.”
“When they bury me, it won’t be in my backyard, and when they come to pay their respects, they’ll have to wait in line.”
“Separate the wheat from the bullshit.”
“I’ve always said that power is more important than money. But money gives power… well, a run for its money.”
“Go fuck yourself.”
“Christ, that felt good.”
“We used to make each other stronger, at least I thought so.”
“I didn’t think I deserved her.”
“I was half the man before I met her.”
“And now, I’m just weak and small and I can’t stand that feeling any longer.”
“It’s you that’s not enough.”
“She can go after me all she wants, but she goes after her and I’ll slit her fucking throat in broad daylight.”
“Am I shattering your illusions about the guy?”
“Are you afraid of what I wrote?”
“Legacy is their only child.”
“His motivations were atrocious, but his logic was sound.”
“This isn’t pretend. I’m real.”
“I wasn’t invisible anymore. I couldn’t escape myself.”
“I will put you in your fucking grave.”
“He is my friend and you came very close to killing him.”
“Please, slit my wrists with his butter knife.”
“As least you got laid.”
“You better not fuck him over.”
“He’s not foolish. I wouldn’t take a bullet for a man who was.”
“It’s like you want me to fire you.”
“I only care about the man.”
“Nothing is forever - except us.”
“You don’t have a monopoly on secrets.”
“We have to do something.”
“The last time I got this drunk, I broke into a library.”
“He had more courage than you’ll ever have.”
“I don’t believe you love your husband more than ever.”
“You don’t add up.”
“You can’t love the people you kill.”
“You have to love the people who are trying to kill you.”
“If you’re doubting yourself, I can’t indulge that.”
“Why did I hold back? Why did I show him any mercy?”
“There’s a fine line between duty and murder.”
“Refrigeration. Are you talking about refrigeration?”
“I don’t have that many close friends, I count you among them.”
“I love this man as if he were my son.”
“Love? Is that what you’re selling?”
“You should consider a career on the stage.”
“Imagination is it’s own form of courage.”
“Well hey there. You want a peanut butter and jelly?”
“Have you asked that of yourself? What are you willing to die for?”
"The American Dream has failed you. Work hard? Play by the rules? You aren’t guaranteed success.”
“I’m leaving you.”
“Must I destroy this man?”
“You’re nothing without me.”
“You wanna know what takes real courage? Keeping your mouth shut, no matter what you might be feeling.”
“I was trying to rile you up. And I succeeded.”
“He’s a son of a bitch.”
“No writer worth his salt can resist a good story.”
“What is the face of a coward? The back of his head as he runs from the battle.”
“What I hate is… how much I need us.”
"You are entitled to nothing.”
“It’s tiresome, constantly swinging a sledgehammer at the facade, just to get a glimpse through the cracks.”
"We’ve been lying for a long time. Not to them. To each other.”
“This is what happens when you don’t sleep for three months.”
I asked: ‘What do you want?’ He said: 'To be with you in hell.’
Anna Akhmatova, Excerpt of The Guest (via florizels)
game of thrones sentence meme
❝ Some old wounds never truly heal, and bleed again at the slightest word. ❞ ❝ The man who passes the sentence should swing the sword. ❞ ❝ If I look back, I am lost. ❞ ❝ Every flight begins with a fall. ❞ ❝ A bruise is a lesson, and each lesson makes us better. ❞ ❝ The man who fears losing has already lost. ❞ ❝ You wear your honor like a suit of armor. You think it keeps you safe, but all it does is weigh you down and make it hard for you to move. ❞ ❝ A true man does what he will, not what he must. ❞ ❝ A lion doesn’t concern itself with the opinion of sheep. ❞ ❝ People often claim to hunger for truth, but seldom like the taste when it’s served up. ❞ ❝ A day will come when you think yourself safe and happy, and suddenly your joy will turn to ashes in your mouth, and you’ll know the debt is paid. ❞ ❝ I will hurt you for this. I don’t know how yet, but give me time. ❞ ❝ The unseen enemy is always the most fearsome. ❞ ❝ That one — he’s copper, bright and shiny. Pretty to look at, but not worth all that much at the end of the day. ❞ ❝ If you can’t protect yourself, die and get out of the way of those who can. ❞ ❝Sharp steel and strong arms rule this world, don’t ever believe any different. ❞ ❝ Was there ever a war where only one side bled ? ❞ ❝ Great wrongs have been done to you, but the past is dust. The future may yet be won. ❞ ❝ They fought valiantly, they fought nobly, they fought honourably — and they died. ❞ ❝ The greatest fools are often more clever than the men who laugh at them. ❞ ❝ There is a savage beast in every man, and when you hand that man a sword or spear and send him forth to war, the beast stirs. ❞ ❝ Any man who must say ‘I am the king’ is no true king. ❞ ❝ We’re all just songs in the end, if we are lucky. ❞ ❝ We all dream of things we cannot have. ❞ ❝ History is a wheel, for the nature of man is fundamentally unchanging. What has happened before will happen again. ❞ ❝ Kind ? How boring that would be. I aspire to be wicked. ❞ ❝ War makes monsters of us all. ❞ ❝ Anger is better than tears, better than grief, better than guilt. ❞ ❝ A sweet face often hides a sinner’s heart. ❞ ❝ I rose too high, loved too hard, dared too much. I tried to grasp a star, overreached, and fell. ❞ ❝ A man may befriend a beast, even break a beast — but no man could truly tame a beast. ❞ ❝ The only time a man can be brave is when he is afraid. ❞ ❝ The past remains the past. We can learn from it, but we cannot change it. ❞ ❝ A leader can love the men that they command, but can never be a friend to them. One day he/she may need to sit in judgment on them, or send them forth to die. ❞
There is nowhere for her to hide. Even behind sealed doors, predacious instincts are functioning at maximum capacity. Why linger? Give up, he thinks, all too synchronised with her presence occupying the space beyond his quarters. Separation has no mercy on his being, it takes no prisoners. A dull, unfamiliar ache in the pit of his abdomen, a hole forged by the time spent in severance, longing for the adrenaline felt only from HER, and her alone. Patience abandons him so slowly it sickens him ━ how long must I wait for you? The knock rattles through his bones harshly, spine straightens in preparation for their next undisclosed encounter.
❝ Agent ━ ❞
Modulator catches his muted, soft tone and delivers it like poured liquid gravel. Its enough to coax her inwards to his sanctuary, followed by the cold metal door sealing shut once again. The sound of the air lock hissing is a haunting farewell to the safety of the outside world. She is brave to surrender her freedom so willingly. She knows what he is capable of, unspeakable acts without doubt marred her thoughts of him.
Leather clad hands remove the heavy mask guarding pale skin ( apprehension attached to revealing the true identity of Kylo Ren no longer plaguing his thoughts ), it is a sign of silent hospitality and from his point of view ━ undeserving benevolence.
❝ You look tense. ❞
An impolite observation; no uncertainty present in his husky tone, those artificial memories had finally burnt through to her very skull. Hints of purple rim the skin around still vibrant blue irises; he finds far too much pleasure in this, in the notion that no matter how badly and destructively he toys with her psychological state, those eyes will always shine at him.
With confidence, he seats himself opposite to her, lacing his fingers together in his lap, leaning forwards in elation. For a moment, he appears to develop the tiniest hint of a smirk, corners of rosy lips curling upwards ever so slightly. Hazel hues brand her visible, bare skin in observation, drinking in his damage. In the typical Kylo Ren fashion, raven haired head cocks to the side gently before asking,
❝ Would you like to talk about it? ❞
Stranger than the memories that she can't quite account for, are those she has of his face. Half remembered and made real again when he shows himself to her. It is noted how easily he removes his helmet -- finding herself disappointed, that he has stolen the opportunity away from her, that she was not the one to reveal human features, and she almost touches. Her hand is stayed only by the ghost of his own around her throat. Tonight she MUST keep control of herself. A glance is all she will give him, instead. "When we're alone you may call me Arris, if you'd like." To him, she does not wish to be Agent Vyle. Her own name should feel at home on his tongue.
I've missed you.
The trap is laid within, in case he is tempted to stray near her thoughts. Arris can't keep him from entering them so they will have to serve. But hadn't she missed him? The twitch of his mouth as he watches her is telling of what enjoyment he takes from her uncertainty, and it's this simple expression that goads the surge of anger that threatens to destroy her pretty facade. "Oh?" Although she still addresses him, her back has now turned. She moves on, following a trail already forged, revisiting what she can of the room, re-examining those sparse possessions so that she won't have to look at him anymore. There is silence, for a time. The reprieve allows for Arris to debate the answer to a question meant only to shame her. She has let the doubt seep beneath her skin, her own nerves become traitor to her body, but it's soothing, some, being near him. Arris draws from Ren's own presence to strengthen herself, and she will continue to do so until he is spent.
Satisfied by her exploration ( and the time it gives her to reign in her disobedient feelings ) she returns to him once again, standing over his seated form. This too is reminescent of their time before. He had let her rise above him while he, himself, seemed content to kneel at her feet -- she would see him kneel again.
"What would you like me to say?"
Hands bared, Arris shows no further hesitation when reaching out to him, her offering laid upon his face. It's as though handling an angered beast, how tenderly her touch seeks vulnerable places. Thumbs skim across elegant cheekbones. Fingers fit beneath his jaw. With the trace of her nails against his lips she calls to mind the kisses that she can't quite remember sharing. "That I've missed you? Am I tense because I could not stand that we were apart?" How much of this has she unwittingly answered for him? She can't help but wonder.
"Shall I tell you only what you want to hear, or are we beyond that now?"
@infiltrationtactics· // Continued.
It had been hard to hide it, to lock that part of himself away. Harder still to hide it from her, especially as time wore on and what had first developed as a mutual dalliance had become else. Weaving into something more intricate, something harder to define. And when those lips has pressed against his he had felt the weight of that deception, at the perceived slight with every ounce of his being.
He reached out and touched her arm, feeling her pull away from him once again, grasping for her mind at the same time with a gentle touch. A touch he had previously only allowed himself as she had drifted within the embrace of sleep. To see the nightmares within her mind, attempting to steer them towards somewhat happier ends. He wasn’t cruel after all - at least never intentionally so - not to her and not to any under his command. Everything he did was for the future of The First Order, for their Supreme Leader. Everything in his life had been for Snoke, and him alone.
And yet somehow she had still come to mean something more to him.
Something he couldn’t simply meditate away.
She hated him. In this moment he could feel it rolling off of her like a thick fog. And still underneath it he could feel the betrayal, the sadness, the love she felt for him. However twisted and against her nature it had started as, what it had eventually become.
She would battle him, her pride demanded it. But he could at least allow himself to show her that what had been between them had been anything but lies. It has been the one truth he had allowed himself in the years since he had been ordered into silence, Into the life of deception he had cultivated - even to himself.
He grasped her arm once again and pulled her towards him, his other gloved hand reaching up to cup her chin as he pressed a fierce kiss to her lips. Feeling her respond in kind, the lips moving under his own whether consciously or not. He poured his forgiveness into it, and even if she didn’t feel it - hear it as he touched her mind with his - he would tell her as well. With words, with something she would appreciate.
She would not walk away from this - from him.
Not when she could finally see him for what he truly was. What they could be together.
It is the end.
The end of a man -- whose death she can not even mourn, as he had never really existed at all -- and of what she shares with him. An end to love; if only saying so made it true. An end to what soft foolishness he has tricked her into feeling, so now he could be reminded of what she is. This is only fair. His true face is revealed to her, and with it comes that silent unease, shared by any who have suffered unkind thoughts toward their leader. That's not something to be resented. Really, Arris should ADMIRE how effortlessly Hux has assimilated himself into their ranks and strive to learn from his example, rather than give in to these petty dramatics.
And she would, had she not been among the number taken in by this ploy.
An ego like hers is not so easily soothed by mental fumbling.
When he overtakes her, she does not struggle against the intrusion. There is a longing, to strike at him for touching her after she has forbidden it, but instead she's the one to bring him closer. Prior refusal lost to the sensation of his tongue against hers. Her teeth dug into his lower lip. Fingers tight in his hair and along his jaw. There's no space between them. The leather against her skin remains blissfully impersonal. For him to touch her-...she will come undone beneath his fingertips, and become lost once more in his deception -- how badly she wishes she COULD be lost, but Arris won't think of that, nor of how he still feels exactly as he should.
Their parting draws a sigh of longing from between her traitorous lips.
"Does this please you, my Lord?" Hux has not asked her to refer to him as such. She will, anyway. Archaic honors have little meaning in their militia -- but he is no longer part of that, is he? The Knights are above them, and Arris places her beloved back onto his pedestal, far from her.
"I'm afraid I don't feel much for you, but..." The words are a purr meant only for him. Digits work their way beneath belted fabric -- a space she knows intimately, by now -- to coax a reaction from him. She feigns passion well, though it can never seem to reach her eyes.
" -- I can pretend, Just as you have."
He listens in rapt attention as she goes on about her day. A small smile on his face as he idly rubs at the fading pain in his knees. Not even dedicating a thought to the table he had introduced them to moments prior. He couldn’t escape the feeling that this was really nice, seeing her lean back on a chair telling him about her day, telling him all about her daily troubles and gripes.
His heart clenched, it had been so long since they had been able to do this. Immediately he tried to shake off the strange - and rather stupid - thought. The feeling in his heart ebbing away as he watched her easing back languidly as she continued her speech.
He scoffed at the thought - it was rather absurd - after all they had been serving The First Order together for years, And before that they had hardly been apart.
Right?
He could remember everything of course, every moment easy to recall with mostly vivid detail. Well as much detail old memories could even have. He shook his head and smiled a bit, focusing back on Arris as she lapsed into silence.
He would have to mention it in his next appointment.
Such thoughts were of course cut off abruptly by her last proclamation. The tips of his ears turning a bright shade of pink at the implication behind them. She was really far too nosey for her own good.
“I uh-” he paused looking a bit panicked. “I have no idea what you mean.” he supplied a bit too quickly. Coughing a little as he tried to change the subject. “So what’s got ‘Your General’ in such a bad mood then? And please don’t say something sex related because there are some things a brother just doesn’t need to know about his sister.”
"My mistake."
He has always been predictable, and what secrets he can keep become easily apparent when she prods at him.
"You know, it's tasteless when you refer to him as such. 'Your General.'" It would be dishonest ( and, thus, not entirely out of character of her ) to say that some small part of her didn't like hearing it, but Vox speaks too openly for Arris' tastes. And, though there must surely be those who realize what goes on, none would dare speak of it out of fear of reprimand. Vox has no such fear. The fear of her, and what she's capable of. Any other and she would be quick to change their mind and yet, for now, Arris finds it an endearing quality on him. Still, the intricacies of her business with Hux are beyond what she expects her brother to understand, and it would be appreciated if he could learn to just-...shut up.
For Arris' sake.
"But what a dangerous assumption to make -- I don't believe I ever mentioned that we were intimate, and I should hope you aren't spreading any undue rumors around. I know you're rather fond of talking, sweet brother."
"Of course, if I had to make idle gossip, I would say that our fearless leader still feels humiliated by a defeat already taken too personally. I've told him as much, but ALAS -- " It is stated with such drama, as arms are thrown across her face to shield her eyes. A laugh, disingenuous. The show is entirely for Vox's benefit, even when it doesn't truly benefit him. " -- he does not want to hear sense from one so far below his station."
"Of course."
Because Galya is already arranging her lego on the shelves and resistance, as it turns out, really IS futile. Arris spares her a glance from where she’s settled herself on their brand new couch. "Leave me one, though." Her own collection is less vast than that of her friend's -- and less focused on one theme. ( but Arris figures SOMEONE had to buy all that prequel merchandise ) Most of it’s going in her room, anyway. She won’t risk her two hundred dollar figures ending up on instagram next to Jar Jar Binks.
“I don’t think it’s over dramatic at all.” Eyes return to her phone, and she’s trying to appear nonchalant, even as bare toes creep closer to those tantalizing plastic bubbles. “Human history is incredibly dull.” Not quite true, but Huxley INSISTS on picking documentaries for movie night, and there’s only so many times Arris can willingly sit through Blood Upon the Snow before the bitterness sets in. “Two young women move into an apartment together and it’s more interesting than anything Russia’s ever done -- they ought to do a miniseries on us.”
Ten hours. That particular series was ten. hours.
The bathroom proposal earns only a nod in response. Best to let Galya have that one -- maybe then she won’t be tempted to bring out the Darth Maul dish towels.
@datapadz ( ✕ )
Am I too late for this kiss?
@firstgeneral || 2/3
She learns to bow with the rest.
Do her thoughts stay with him, when it’s late? They sleep so far apart, now, but in her restless dreams she fears that she can feel him there. He sits in her head, watching her replay their promises. Lies. As I love you becomes the poison that she has willingly swallowed, I hate you is the mantra to replace it. Eyes fixed to his boots, her knees pressed hard to the unforgiving floor. She’ll drive them harder still. Why does she kneel? Why do any of them? It becomes an unnecessary ritual. Those in his inner circle are afraid – would he punish them especially for bitter words, once assumed private in their own heads?
And now she can’t help but remember her own wayward thoughts. Those of anger, and of love. ( but perhaps worst of all is in fleeting moments, with tears scarcely held back, when Arris feels so vulnerable ) Deception was necessary, he reminds her – and surely she, of all under his command, must understand this? “I do,” she has assured him, but her eyes give him nothing, and the space between them only grows.
He wishes for her to kiss him, now. Her mind is plagued with yearning – his own, for her – an invasive desire that he pushes onto her. She doesn’t know how to fight back against the intrusion. A hand, grasping her chin, leather-clad digits are cold where they touch her. He bids Arris to rise and she does.
Give him what he wants.
And she will. Ever dutiful to her General. Hers. This, too, has become undesirable. She does not WANT him. ( an adamant denial that has no one convinced ) Still, she is the one to kiss him. The press of her lips remains fleeting. A pale imitation of moments once shared willingly. His fingers play across her shoulders while her own are tight around the front of his coat – not to pull him close, but to keep him at bay. When he tries to draw her into his embrace, she tears herself away.
”No.” This refusal comes to her with ease. It should hurt, to spurn the man she loves, yet it doesn’t – Arris won’t let it.
“Never again.”
Character solidifying!
1. How does your character think of their father? What do they hate and love about him? What influence - literal or imagined - did the father have? 2. Their mother? How do they think of her? What do they hate? Love? What influence - literal or imagined - did the mother have? 3. Brothers, sisters? Who do they like? Why? What do they despise about their siblings? 4. What type of discipline was your character subjected to at home? Strict? Lenient? 5. Were they overprotected as a child? Sheltered? 6. Did they feel rejection or affection as a child? 7. What was the economic status of their family? 8. How does your character feel about religion? 9. What about political beliefs? 10. Is your character street-smart, book-smart, intelligent, intellectual, slow-witted? 11. How do they see themselves: as smart, as intelligent, uneducated? 12. How does their education and intelligence – or lack thereof - reflect in their speech pattern, vocabulary, and pronunciations? 13. Did they like school? Teachers? Schoolmates? 14. Were they involved at school? Sports? Clubs? Debate? Were they unconnected? 15. Did they graduate? High-School? College? Do they have a PHD? A GED? 16. What does your character do for a living? How do they see their profession? What do they like about it? Dislike? 17. Did they travel? Where? Why? When? 18. What did they find abroad, and what did they remember? 19. What were your character’s deepest disillusions? In life? What are they now? 20. What were the most deeply impressive political or social, national or international, events that they experienced? 21. What are your character’s manners like? What is their type of hero? Whom do they hate? 22. Who are their friends? Lovers? ‘Type’ or ‘ideal’ partner? 23. What do they want from a partner? What do they think and feel of sex? 24. What social groups and activities does your character attend? What role do they like to play? What role do they actually play, usually? 25. What are their hobbies and interests? 26. What does your character’s home look like? Personal taste? Clothing? Hair? Appearance? 27. How do they relate to their appearance? How do they wear their clothing? Style? Quality? 28. Who is your character’s mate? How do they relate to him or her? How did they make their choice? 29. What is your character’s weaknesses? Hubris? Pride? Controlling? 30. Are they holding on to something in the past? Can he or she forgive? 31. Does your character have children? How do they feel about their parental role? About the children? How do the children relate? 32. How does your character react to stress situations? Defensively? Aggressively? Evasively? 33. Do they drink? Take drugs? What about their health? 34. Does your character feel self-righteous? Revengeful? Contemptuous? 35. Do they always rationalize errors? How do they accept disasters and failures? 36. Do they like to suffer? Like to see other people suffering? 37. How is your character’s imagination? Daydreaming a lot? Worried most of the time? Living in memories? 38. Are they basically negative when facing new things? Suspicious? Hostile? Scared? Enthusiastic? 39. What do they like to ridicule? What do they find stupid? 40. How is their sense of humor? Do they have one? 41. Is your character aware of who they are? Strengths? Weaknesses? Idiosyncrasies? Capable of self-irony? 42. What does your character want most? What do they need really badly, compulsively? What are they willing to do, to sacrifice, to obtain? 43. Does your character have any secrets? If so, are they holding them back? 44. How badly do they want to obtain their life objectives? How do they pursue them? 45. Is your character pragmatic? Think first? Responsible? All action? A visionary? Passionate? Quixotic? 46. Is your character tall? Short? What about size? Weight? Posture? How do they feel about their physical body? 47. Do they want to project an image of a younger, older, more important person? Does they want to be visible or invisible? 48. How are your character’s gestures? Vigorous? Weak? Controlled? Compulsive? Energetic? Sluggish? 49. What about voice? Pitch? Strength? Tempo and rhythm of speech? Pronunciation? Accent? 50. What are the prevailing facial expressions? Sour? Cheerful? Dominating?
GUESS WHO. IT'S ME. GIMME A KISS. -xoxoxox vija
@mcjorvijc || 1/3
“Kiss my hand.”
At first Arris can’t understand the order, but compliance is automatic. Hand outstretched, she takes long fingers between her own, working them free of their leather trappings. Talons are painted red. Kiss my hand. Why? Simply because she MUST obey, or risk reprimand. They are too much alike -- ruthless, destructive, insatiable -- but Major General Dolor still stands above her.
So Arris obeys.
But she is so tender, in the way she raises waiting hand is raised to her mouth, that one might think her willing to impart her affection on the Major General. Pale lips are compliant to the demand made – kiss my hand, so she does. There is deception in a coy brush of her thumb across the palm. Teeth, a warning against the second knuckle, but not to linger overlong. Kiss my hand. She is enveloped by perfume -- a sickeningly sweet scent, cloying in her lungs, she CHOKES on it with each breath. Kiss my hand. A wrist is presented to her. This is a vulnerability. Arris’ head tilts, lips a ghost across skin when she raises her head, eyes fixed to the gift. Proceed. And suddenly her fingers are tighter, entwined with those of her rival so that there can be no escape before she has WRENCHED the captive arm forward. Kiss my hand. The command echoes in her head no longer. Violence, unbecoming, so unlike her, yet it is what the beast in her hollowed chest craves most -- SNAP -- and Arris accepts this offering made to her with teeth. Enamel breaks skin, rends deep into flesh, blood hot and wet pooling across her tongue. It’s a vile taste – she clamps down harder. Revels in the rush of blood in her mouth and in her ears.
And when nails come down, she sees them, but does nothing to shield herself from the blow. Pain flares up the side of her face. Gore spattered across her chin, and now it drips from gashed cheek. She snatches her head back. A shaken exhale – neither of fear, nor pain -- then, nothing. Arris is docile, again.
“Will that be all?”
✩┊moodboard 002 :// arris vyle + kylo ren
❛ ━ The monster is not in my face, but in my soul. ❜
@infiltrationtactics
16 things you said with no space between us (kylux)
@ all the Kylos and Huxs xoxo || m.
"Bring me the droid." says Kylo Ren, Master of the Knights of Ren, but also Master of not understanding what ‘personal space’ is.
“Don’t tell me what to do, Ren." replies General Hux, who never did anything to deserve this, and when did Kylo Ren get so tall? They'renearly the same height.
Then they kiss.
you dangle on the leash of your own longing; your need grows teeth.
Margaret Atwood, Excerpt of Speeches for Dr. Frankenstein from Selected Poems 1965-1975 (via florizels)
){kind=link}