fuck it the intro’s not getting
Apr. 24th, 2016 06:06 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dragonlady7via http://ift.tt/1VvZZlZ:
fuck it the intro’s not getting rewritten.
This is the original snippet post.
Poe is lying, here, when he tells everyone he didn’t sleep with the ginger asshole. He totally lies. Does he explain, later, to Finn, that he was lying? Maybe, maybe not. Think it over and tell me what you think.
Because here’s what really happened:
The Spectrum Of Bad Ideas, 8600ish words, Poe/Hux, Hux POV.
credit to @deputychairman for the idea that Poe was totally lying and actually hit that.
It turned out to be a Hux character study.
The man blew smoke away, then turned to look up at him, squinting curiously. He was very pretty, big doe eyes and long lashes, and his very dark irises made his eyes seem even bigger, but his strong features kept him from being an effeminate kind of pretty. He had a great jawline and a very pretty mouth. “I was kidding,” he said, “but maybe now I’m not.”
Hux wasn’t usually surprised by much, but he was now. He quirked an eyebrow. “You really think that would be a good idea.”
The man grinned. “No,” he said, “it’s a terrible idea, but those are my specialty. They rent rooms over there, no questions asked, a buddy of mine used it last month when he was in town and picked up a nasty case of the clap, but that ain’t the inn’s fault.” He gestured with his cigarette. “You look like you’re into some sick shit, man, but you also don’t look like you’re gonna give me the clap, so on the spectrum of bad ideas you’re like a five.”
“I look like I’m into some sick shit,” Hux repeated carefully, both eyebrows up now. “Do I look like I’m in the habit of visiting hourly rate inns with disreputable strangers?”
“I ain’t a stranger,” the man said, “I’ve punched you in the face at least twice, that puts us way past strangers.” He finished his cigarette and stubbed it out against the wall of the building, then field-stripped it and shoved the filter in his jacket pocket.
It said something about the man that he didn’t litter, Hux supposed.
“Five out of what?” Hux asked. “I’m just curious as to your scale of bad idea evaluation.”
“Five out of ten,” the man said, like it was obvious. “Where one is gentle protected sex with a nice girl you could introduce to your mother, and ten is getting your kidneys harvested and the rest of you sold into sex slavery.”
“Neither of those sounds appealing, though,” Hux said, nose crinkling.
“Aw,” the man said, “c’mon, gentle protected sex with nice girls is a very sweet way to spend an evening. I’d have to be a lot more sober than this, though.” He jerked his thumb toward the inn. “C’mon. Neutral territory. I won’t have sweet gentle sex with you and I won’t harvest any of your organs. Other than that I make no promises.”
“Well,” Hux said. “I’m not sure how I’m meant to refuse an offer like that.” He finished his cigarette and tossed it into the gutter. Those dark eyes didn’t fail to observe it, flicking to watch the glowing butt’s gentle arc. Shipboard, as Hux had spent a lot of his life, there’d be a receptacle and hell to pay for not using it. Planetside, Hux never worried about it. He resolved to consider what that said about him at a later date.
fuck it the intro’s not getting rewritten.
This is the original snippet post.
Poe is lying, here, when he tells everyone he didn’t sleep with the ginger asshole. He totally lies. Does he explain, later, to Finn, that he was lying? Maybe, maybe not. Think it over and tell me what you think.
Because here’s what really happened:
The Spectrum Of Bad Ideas, 8600ish words, Poe/Hux, Hux POV.
credit to @deputychairman for the idea that Poe was totally lying and actually hit that.
It turned out to be a Hux character study.
The man blew smoke away, then turned to look up at him, squinting curiously. He was very pretty, big doe eyes and long lashes, and his very dark irises made his eyes seem even bigger, but his strong features kept him from being an effeminate kind of pretty. He had a great jawline and a very pretty mouth. “I was kidding,” he said, “but maybe now I’m not.”
Hux wasn’t usually surprised by much, but he was now. He quirked an eyebrow. “You really think that would be a good idea.”
The man grinned. “No,” he said, “it’s a terrible idea, but those are my specialty. They rent rooms over there, no questions asked, a buddy of mine used it last month when he was in town and picked up a nasty case of the clap, but that ain’t the inn’s fault.” He gestured with his cigarette. “You look like you’re into some sick shit, man, but you also don’t look like you’re gonna give me the clap, so on the spectrum of bad ideas you’re like a five.”
“I look like I’m into some sick shit,” Hux repeated carefully, both eyebrows up now. “Do I look like I’m in the habit of visiting hourly rate inns with disreputable strangers?”
“I ain’t a stranger,” the man said, “I’ve punched you in the face at least twice, that puts us way past strangers.” He finished his cigarette and stubbed it out against the wall of the building, then field-stripped it and shoved the filter in his jacket pocket.
It said something about the man that he didn’t litter, Hux supposed.
“Five out of what?” Hux asked. “I’m just curious as to your scale of bad idea evaluation.”
“Five out of ten,” the man said, like it was obvious. “Where one is gentle protected sex with a nice girl you could introduce to your mother, and ten is getting your kidneys harvested and the rest of you sold into sex slavery.”
“Neither of those sounds appealing, though,” Hux said, nose crinkling.
“Aw,” the man said, “c’mon, gentle protected sex with nice girls is a very sweet way to spend an evening. I’d have to be a lot more sober than this, though.” He jerked his thumb toward the inn. “C’mon. Neutral territory. I won’t have sweet gentle sex with you and I won’t harvest any of your organs. Other than that I make no promises.”
“Well,” Hux said. “I’m not sure how I’m meant to refuse an offer like that.” He finished his cigarette and tossed it into the gutter. Those dark eyes didn’t fail to observe it, flicking to watch the glowing butt’s gentle arc. Shipboard, as Hux had spent a lot of his life, there’d be a receptacle and hell to pay for not using it. Planetside, Hux never worried about it. He resolved to consider what that said about him at a later date.
