#Some days I don’t know if I am wrong or right….

[fallstaticexit]

Prev / Next / Beginning

TW: Self Harm Mentioned/Implied

AN: next update our ladies will have a proper reunion but first tree farm tree farm! (Even though only the poor kids- and Bob- are the only ones super excited about it)

Transcript under the cut

Nancy Narrates: [All those years I’ve spent yearning, wanting, my whole self calling for her—and now she’s here]

Nancy Narrates: [This isn’t a dream. She’s here. I can feel the warmth in her cheek]

Nancy: I- I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to- I don’t know why I did that. I shouldn’t have-

Vanessa: [laughs] It’s ok, Nancy! It’s good to see you too.

Vanessa: Wow, look at you. You’re all grown up, aren’t you?

Nancy: I- I-

Vanessa: Still filled to the brim with tears too.

Nancy: [softly] Sorry. I thought.. I thought I’d never see you again.

Vanessa: 16 years is a long time. I was worried you would have forgotten all about me.

Nancy: I could never forget you.

Vanessa: I’ve come all this way to see you.

Nancy: Have you really?

Vanessa: I know it’s been years, but I was hoping we could reconnect. I’m staying at the Fyres Hotel. Maybe we could have dinner there tonight. Catch up?

Nancy Narrates: [I had to physically restrain myself from saying yes. I realized, after all these years, I still would have followed her anywhere...but it can’t be this way. Not anymore..]

Nancy: [exhales] I can’t. I’m sorry. I had plans.

Vanessa: Ah! Well. I did pop in last minute. Maybe some other-

Nancy: You could come with me! I mean, If you like? We’re supposed to get a Christmas tree for the house; trying to set new traditions and what not.

Nancy: It’s silly but it’s important to them- my sons. I have two boys, by the way. I have to do this for them but- you’re here and I don’t know if I can see you leave again. God, am I rambling too much?

Vanessa: You want me to go tree shopping with you and your children?

Nancy: [blushes] Will you?

Vanessa: Lead the way.

-

Malcolm: What’s taking that lady so long!

Jonathan: Should we try and call mom again?

Geoffrey: [hums noncommittally]

Malcolm: He’s not even listening!

Bob: Hellooo? Earth to Geoffrey?

Bob: Iggy say, ‘what’s eatin’ ya, Uncle G?’

Iggy: [coos]

Geoffrey: Heh, sorry! Sorry. I guess I got alot on my mind right now.

Eliza: Is everything ok?

Geoffrey: Oh, yeah! Yeah, yeah- well...I guess I’m thinking about Nance?

Eliza: What’s wrong with Nancy?

Geoffrey: I’ve been thinking about what happened on our anniversary trip.

Bob: Yeah? What was it?

Malcolm: Mommy’s here!! Mommy’s here!!

Malcolm: Er, who’s that with my mommy?

Bob: Well, I’ll be damned! Talk about a throwback!

Eliza: [whistles] Oh, wow! Who is that? Is she a model?: Well, I’ll be damned! Talk about a throwback!

Geoffrey: Vanessa Villareal?

Nancy: These are my sons, Jonathan and Malcolm.

Vanessa: Oh! Oh, Nancy, they are beautiful.

Malcolm: Who are you, lady!

Nancy: Don’t be rude, darling. Vanessa is- was- she’s my..

Vanessa: I’m your mother’s best friend.

Jonathan: I’m Jonathan, but call me Johnny. This loud mouth is Malcolm.

Vanessa: Johnny it is. You must get those cool, blue eyes from your mom’s brother.

Jonathan: You knew my Uncle Nathan?

Vanessa: No, but I saw a picture once, a long time ago.

Vanessa: [turns to Malcolm] And you look just like your mother.

Malcolm: Are you a movie star too?

Vanessa: [chuckles] No, I’m not a movie star.

Malcolm: Then who are you lady?

Vanessa: I’m your Auntie V. You can call me that, if you like.

Malcolm: Aunt V, are you gonna pick out a tree with us?

Vanessa: You bet. You should know, I have a keen eye.

Nancy: Sorry I’m late..

Geoffrey: Better late than never. I see you had an eventful day.

Malcolm: No more talking! Let’s go already!

Jonathan: I want to find our tree with mom!

Malcolm: Well I’m taking daddy!

Bob: Alright! Long time no see, VV! Man, it’s been a while, huh?

Vanessa: Just V is fine. Billy, right?

Bob: [sighs] It’s Bobby. This is my wife, Eliza and this cool guy is Iggy.

Vanessa: [sheepishly] Right. Nice to meet you. Wasn’t there another one of you?

Bob: [chuckles] Cassie. We still keep in touch. She’s a travel blogger now. And I’m sure you remember ol’ Geoffrey here.

Geoffrey: Good seeing you, Vanessa.

Vanessa: Likewise.

Bob: Heck yeah! Let the festivities begin!

-

Jonathan: This one! This is the perfect tree, right, Mom?

Nancy: Mhm. Yes, that’s nice- I’ll be right back.

Jonathan: Oh..

Bob: Alright, what’s going on? You can tell me, it’s just us guys now, and Iggy here is great at keeping secrets.

Geoffrey: Nance was so sad on our trip, sadder than usual. I haven’t seen her so low since- well, since Vanessa left. And she kept apologizing to me.

Bob: You’ve mentioned before she gets in a mood sometimes, right?

Geoffrey: Well, yeah... that’s not all. I saw these bruises on the inside of her thigh.

Bob: [eyes widen] You think she’s hurting herself?

Geoffrey: Is that it, you think? At first I thought they were- you know, hickies?

Bob: Whoa. Hickies? On Nancy?

Geoffrey: [snorts] That’s crazy, right?

Bob: You should talk to her. If she is harming herself, you should get her help, bud.

Geoffrey: And if it’s not that...

Bob: Then, that’s another kind of conversation. But this is Nancy we’re talking about. You two have been bit by the love bug since high school. I can’t imagine her having an affair with some other guy.

-

Nancy: Hi.

Vanessa: Hi.

Nancy: Sorry if I’m being...odd. I guess, I’m still getting used to seeing you.

Vanessa: I don’t think you’re being odd. I think you’re being you.

Nancy: Is that a bad thing?

Vanessa: [giggles] No, not at all. You haven’t changed and it’s refreshing.

Nancy: Ah. Well. You haven’t either. I mean..you still feel like my Vanessa.

Nancy Narrates: [All those questions I craved answers for came rushing back to me the more I looked at her. Was my loving her just a girlish memory of our past? Did she ever hear my voicemail? Was it worth mentioning after almost 2 decades apart? After I’ve already married and had children? After I’ve sworn to dedicate my all to them-]

Vanessa: So, about that dinner. Are you free tonight?

[lewkwoodnco]

Okay I’m just so proud of this edit I just havee to talk abt some of the scene choices hehe🙈🙈

Mon, pine - ngl i completely forgot this scene existed until I randomly stumbled upon it while looking for some other screencaps and thank god I did cuz it fits SO WELL??? Lucy’s possessed by Annabel who’s talking abt someone else obviously but just LOOK at Lockwood’s face half of him wants to snap Lucy out of it/make sure she stays safe and the other half is just mesmerised by the sight of her looking at him like that. And the dialogue??? YOU LOVE ME, DONT YOU????? And he so obviously does but can’t say it/ is too scared to and it’s frightening to see lucy like this but he can’t look away he’s drinking in the sight like a man starved 😭 just the juxtaposition of lovkwood’s pining and the cheekily on-the-nose ‘you love me don’t you’ line creates this delicious tension ARGH the writers were sick SICKKK for this

Tue, long - as soon as he first laid eyes on lucy it’s like he can’t help but let his gaze linger over her and even though she’s the candidate being interviewed the way he tries to impress her as he gives her the tour (the basement training area, the ‘high security’ storage room, her room in the attic) it’s like you can tell he’s already desperately hoping that she’ll join as if he’s longing for company like hers

Wed, ache - love is nothing if not pain like other than the obvious physical pain of being in such close proximity to a flare explosion etc bro is HURTING with regret for putting her (and george) in danger just cuz he insisted they take the case and now they’re in so deep and its all his fault but also he just wanted to fix the 62 sheen road fallout keep his agency open (it’s almost like he wants to prove to her that he/lockwood and co. is worth sticking with) but it’s all gone so wrong and he’s just drowningggg in physical and mental anguish only love can hurt/ACHE like this frfr

Thu, sigh - but at the end of the day lockwood is still a 16 ish year old boy who sucks at expressing his innermost feelings and doesn’t know how to deal with jealousy in any way other than being moody about it/suppressing it and this scene is like yea these are kids fighting ghosts night after night but for five minutes they get to be regular angsty teenagers and have the air between them hang heavy with unspoken words and it’s all so dumb and frustrating but also they’re teenagers what ELSE are they going to do HHHHHHH like look at his face!!! bro is befuddled. dumbfounded. bamboozled even. (what do you mean you’re going out with Kipps i thought we’ve been playing house tgt what)

Fri, lament - as funny as this scene is it’s oddly sweet how he’s ranting so openly to Lucy and like the way she tries to reason with him (he probably signed the same NDA we did) and he STILL stomps around throwing a fit aurgghh it’s so adorable just kiss already

Sat, crave - just look at him. bro is down bad for every single part of lucy it’s like he can’t get enough of her, he’s not even hiding it here like look at him watch her like she’s the most precious thing in the world ughhh

Sun, yearn - ooh this scene is like the breaking point of all the accumulated hidden feelings and thoughts between them and he’s messed up so badly atp even lucy is properly pissed (where’s that incorrect quote - my girl is mad at me I am going to KILL myself) but he’s just too paralysed by 16-year-old-boy syndrome to respond to her (tho he finally gets his head on somewhat right in the next scene) so he just stares at her and takes the scolding wondering how things got this bad when all he had done was care and love and yearn for Lucy (can’t you see his heart clawing out of his chest to get to her)

Also I think it’s so hilarious that in the scene in the top gif he’s talking to lucy aka the very person that has him BOOKED AND BUSY with longing 😭😭

a week in the life of London's youngest agency head (insp.)

[a-court-of-lust-and-stardust]

Love on Ice Chapter 14: The Encounter

Hi y’all. Here is the next chapter. I hope you enjoy it!

30 Days until Competition

Elain decided if she could have any superpower in the world, it would be invisibility. Which would truly come in handy right about now. She knew traveling to Autumn Region was risky, but the running track was large and she assumed it would be unoccupied at nine in the morning on a Wednesday. 

Oh, how wrong she’d been. 

She’d made it three times around the track before the sharp sound of barking forced her to pause. In pink leggings and a black crew neck, sweating like she'd been locked in a sauna, Elain stood before Beron Vanserra and two of his family’s bloodhounds. 

“Elain Archeron,” He greeted emotionlessly. She recoiled at the way her name fell from his tongue. Wholly unpleasant.

“Good morning Beron,” She answered politely, doing her best to still her erratic heart, eyes flitting around to spy a potential escape route. But Elain couldn’t escape if she wanted to. She wouldn’t put it past Beron to set the hounds loose right after her if she tried to make a break for it.

“It has been some time since I’ve seen you last,” He remarked, thin lips quirking in a way that told Elain he knew exactly why her presence was lacking.

She swallowed, holding his gaze. “Indeed.” 

“My son tells me you’re still skating,” Beron said, praising the pups as they rested by his feet without a command. Scout and Colt had never bothered her whenever she saw them. It was Eris’s hounds Jett, Remi, and Striker, that made her wary.

“I am,” Elain responded. If she kept her replies curt, maybe Beron would pick up the hint that she did not care to speak with him. Unfortunately, it was wishful thinking. 

“With a new, very interesting choice of partner,” He finished, sporting a full grin. “I do have to say you’ve surprised me, Elain. I don’t think any of us believed you would continue on with the competition after Lucien…pulled out.” 

“Pulled out is putting it lightly,” Elain said, crossing her arms over her chest. “Did you know? Did you know he was going to do this to me?”

Beron shrugged. “I suspected. And I cannot blame him for putting himself first, dear,” His voice, once void of emotion, had turned to ice. “My boy would accomplish nothing with you by his side.” 

Elain tried not to let the blow sting. This was who Beron Vanserra was. Cruel and arrogant. Critical. Demeaning. She was familiar with his temperament, but saying she was used to it would be a bold lie. Beron was not the kind of man anyone would ever feel comfortable around.

“Maybe that’s his own damn fault,” Elain muttered. She thought she said it softly enough, but the fire burning in Beron’s eyes said otherwise.

“Watch yourself girl,” Beron threatened. The command in his voice startled the dogs, and they both stood to attention. Colt bared his teeth. “Do not blame my son for your shortcomings. You failed him. Not the other way around.” 

Speak up, damn it. Stand your ground.

“Whether I failed him or not, Lucien dropping me from the competition worked in my favor anyway, so maybe you can extend my thanks to him,” Elain said, unflinching from Beron’s hard glare. “Azriel supports me. He encourages me. He believes in me. He teaches me to laugh and have fun. To love what I do. He has done everything your own son could not. Azriel is twice the partner, twice the man, that Lucien could ever be. And that, Beron, is your failure.” 

She expected more insults, a hound to snap at her ankles, or truly even a slap across the cheek for the way she spoke about her former skating partner and Beron’s own parenting habits. Had she gone too far? 

But Beron laughed. He laughed and laughed and dramatically flicked a tear from his eye. The hounds glanced up at their master curiously. “Fun? That's what this is about? A few smiles? Some laughs?” Beron shook his head, readjusting the two leashes in his palm. “Do you know how disappointed your mother would be in you if she were alive?” 

Elain froze, breath catching in her throat. 

“Truth be told, I do wonder what would dishearten Oleanna the most. Your consistent failure, your immature mindset, or the way you speak so…fondly of your new partner, who doesn’t sound like just a skating partner, but rather someone who may even be warming your bed. Hm? What would your mother think, Elain?” 

Words escaped her, chest constricting so tightly she feared she’d collapse from lack of oxygen. 

“Oleanna had such high expectations for you, dear, and you have failed to reach them time and time again,” Beron shot her a look that resembled pity. “And here you are, twenty-six years old, still without any notable achievements, worried about frivolous fun. You should be ashamed of who you’ve become,” The final blow came from over his shoulder as he led the hounds around the track. “I know your mother would be.” 

Elain stared down at her pathetic plate of nachos, tears dripping from her lashes. Running into Beron earlier this morning had thrown her off the entire day. She didn’t even finish her workout, opting to sprint home instead as the wind froze her tears. She spent the rest of her day on her pink suede sofa with a broken spirit. 

She picked up her phone, finger hovering over a name that yes, she had become very fond of. There was no shame in admitting that. Before she could talk herself out of it, she dialed Azriel’s number. 

He picked up on the first ring, as if he’d been waiting for her to call. “Elain?”

She sniffed, forcing out a choked, “Hi.” 

“What happened? Where are you? Are you okay?” His voice was the most frantic she’d heard, and her chest squeezed at his concern. A bit softer he said, “I haven’t heard from you today. I was starting to get worried.” 

Elain blinked away tears. “I fucked up my nachos.”

Azriel paused. “What…what do you mean?” She couldn't have been crying over nachos. Not that he would blame her, because messed up nachos would be devastating, but he knew in his gut something was wrong.

“I heated the cheese for too long and I ran out of jalapeños,” Elain blubbered, a hand flat on her forehead. A few teardrops dripped into the dollop of sour cream on her plate.

The sound of her sobs ripped through his chest. He exhaled a breath to settle himself before asking, “Sweetheart, what's going on?” 

“I need you,” she admitted hoarsely, hastily brushing another wave of tears from her cheeks. She didn’t care how desperate she came off. Nothing in the world sounded better than a crunchy snack and the warmth of Azriel’s arms around her body. “Are you busy? Can you come over?” 

It was the first time Azriel had ever been invited to Elain’s home.  He didn’t tell her he’d already gotten into his car the minute he’d heard her cry.

Elain had to physically stop herself from kissing Azriel straight on the mouth as he appeared at her door with a jar of jalapeños. Instead, she flung herself into his chest, inhaling the scent of his cologne. He held her tightly, brushing a chilly kiss to the warm skin of her forehead.

“You have no idea how much I needed this,” Elain mumbled into his shirt. The hard planes of muscle beneath the cotton grounded her. He didn’t flinch when she dug the pads of her fingers into his back.

“Me or the jalapeños?” He teased, laughing and gently swatting her hands when she pinched his side. 

“Both,” Elain answered honestly, brown eyes illuminated with tears. He reached out to brush a few away with his thumb. “How can I ever repay you?” 

“Well, you could let me come inside,” He suggested lightly, and she only now noticed the slight chatter of his teeth.

A blush bloomed high on her cheeks. “Oh! Of course, please come in.” 

It was a sight to see, really. Azriel, with his dark hair and tattoos, standing in an apartment that was much more lively than his own home. And it encompassed Elain perfectly. A wide grin painted his cheeks.

A pale pink couch, home to various pink and white pillows. 

White walls, decorated with pink and gold picture frames. 

Bright green plants of various shapes and sizes hung from ceilings, rested on windowsills, or stood in corners. 

“Could I get you something to drink? Water? Wine?” Elain wrung her hands, sheepishly watching as he studied her home. He was smiling, but what was he thinking? 

Azriel turned around, shrugging off his jacket and gently draping it over a chair. His hazel eyes sparkled as he said, “First of all, your home is beautiful. I’ve never seen so much pink.” She chuckled, biting her lip and nodding in thanks. “And I’ll have whatever you’re having.” 

Five minutes later, Elain and Azriel found themselves curled up on the sofa under a seafoam green blanket, a heaping plate of nachos between them (generously decorated with jalapeños), sipping Sauvignon Blanc. 

Conversation flowed easily, as it always did. Azriel listened emphatically as Elain described the process of redecorating her home. The process started after Mama died, and when her sisters were homeowners themselves. The apartment had always been bland and mostly devoid of color, save for Feyre’s paintings. 

There’d been shame and anger and resentment at first, watching her sisters buy beautiful homes for their future families. But Sweet Sensations paid well enough to cover the cost of new furniture and a plethora of plants, and the apartment had slowly but surely started to feel like her home. 

Azriel’s heart couldn’t have swelled with more pride. Did she know how resilient she was? Did he know how radiant her smile looked when she talked about her home? The things she loved?

One by one, nachos disappeared from the plate as the skating partners ate and drank and laughed, sharing more embarrassing teenage memories and their fondest moments with family. Every now and then, they paused to watch the hockey game on the television. Elain grinned each time Azriel critiqued a player. 

“Do you want to talk about what happened today?” Azriel asked gently, popping a nacho into his waiting mouth.

Elain sipped from her glass, exhaling through her nose. “I ran into Beron this morning at the track in Autumn.” 

Azriel’s skin prickled. He could only imagine what horrible things he’d said to her. He should have been there to defend her, or at least offer moral support. “Say the word and I’ll take care of it.” 

Elain shook her head, thumb grazing over Azriel’s knuckles. She needed to feel him, his hands or hugs, as much as he needed to press his lips to her skin. “I held my ground pretty well, I think. Until he brought up Mama.” She dug her nacho into the sour cream, licking the remnants from her fingers. “I don’t care if he insults me–.” 

“I do,” Azriel said lowly, nacho breaking in half as he tried to angrily scoop guacamole. “The bastard shouldn’t have even spoken to you.”

Her heart leapt into her throat at the slight edge in his voice. 

“He told me that Mama would be disappointed in who I’ve become,” Elain whispered, using her finger to push the guacamole onto his nacho. Azriel had half a mind to reach over and bring her finger to his lips. 

He understood her words after a moment of silence. “You believed him.” 

“He’s not wrong,” She said after another sip of wine. “I have changed. I’m still trying to figure out if it’s a good or bad change. If I thought Mama didn’t love me then, she surely would hate me now.” 

Azriel drank from his own glass, if only to prevent himself from cursing a dead woman. 

“I just wonder how long I’m going to feel like this,” Elain pondered, swirling her glass. “If all of this is worth it. Having fun…trying to fall back in love with skating…Every day I contemplate whether it’s possible for someone like me.” 

Azriel frowned. He hated that she was having doubts. That people, cruel people who had no qualms about breaking her spirit, put these doubts in her head. 

She needed inspiration, and fast. 

With a kiss to her fingers, Azriel excused himself to use the restroom. Once inside, he locked the door and pulled out his phone. 

The man on the other end picked up after the third ring. “Azriel?” 

“Yeah, hey man,” he said, blowing out a breath. “I need your help.” 

ARTWORK BY @chachachai17: Here

DIVIDER BY: @saradika-graphics

[vibratingskull]

Howdy, can I please make a request for a ThrawnxF!reader . they have children together but he has no interest in marriage, and because of this and because of their age gap, she is known as the Grand admiral concubines /mistresses.

Either she embraces it, or will she confront him about it.

This is an interesting starting point, but it would be quite OOC for Thrawn to do that (imo), so I took the liberty to tweak it a bit, I hope you don't mind 😋

Thrawn x F!reader

Tags: pregnancy, cultural miscommunications, reader may lacks some neurons... oops

You huff sitting down with your pregnant belly preventing you from moving easily. You groan as it tenses up your lower back muscles. 

“Hard day, mama?” Karyn eyeballs you, lightly amused as she sips on her cup of caff. 

“Arf, don’t tell me about it! They are destroying me, they kick and move around all night!” 

“It must not be that hard if you keep having them.” She chuckles, “It’s the fourth one, correct?” 

“Fifth: I had twins.” You correct. 

“Ah yeah... Grand Admiral Thrawn’s greatest accomplishment.” She muses, “He was so enthralled by the news he invited me for a drink in his office instead of strategizing.” 

“Glad to know my boyfriend and best friend meet behind my back” You snigger, “Should I start to worry?” 

It is a joke of course, you know Thrawn would never cheat on you, especially not when you are carrying his heirs and Karyn would never betray you in such a way but she seems to not have gotten the memo with the look she is giving you right now. 

“It’s a joke, Karyn. I know you’re not doing anything behind my back.” You exhale a tired chuckle as your baby kicks again. 

She gauges you up and down with a weird expression, stirring her cup. 

“What?” You demand. 

“Nothing... Just that Grand Admiral Thrawn would probably not appreciate that.” 

“What? Joking about him cheating? Maybe, but you do not need to tell him.” You wink at her. 

“No, the ‘boyfriend’ thing.” 

You raise an eyebrow at her, lost. 

“Then what am I supposed to call him then? ‘Sir’? ‘Master’? Cause I am not doing that.” 

“Simply your ‘husband’.” She explains, “I do not think he would appreciate being relegated to a ‘boyfriend’ status, that is all.” 

You sneer before wincing in pain. 

“Karyn, do you see a ring on my finger? Then he is not my husband, not even my fiance. He is my boyfriend. The father of my children but my boyfriend.” 

She looks more and more disconcerted. 

“That is not how he refers to you.” 

“Really? If you tell me he calls me his ‘baby mama’ I am going to cause a scene.” You joke, gulping your can of fruit juice. 

You are craving fruit juice so badly with this pregnancy... For the former one it was chocolate biscuits with whipped cream! 

“He calls you his wife, (Y/n).” She drops the bomb on you. 

Your gulp almost goes the wrong way and you start coughing behind your hand. 

“What?!”  

“You never noticed? This is how he refers to you to others.” 

“No?!” You respond flabergasted, “Since when?!” 

“Several years? A little bit before your first one if I recall.” 

You open your eyes wide open. 

You concede that you are a pretty obliging person but Thrawn seems to have taken some liberties behind your back! You raise on your feet, fuming and head toward Thrawn’s office under Karyn’s questioning gaze. 

Apparently, a discussion is in order. Thrawn needs to learn that being a Grand Admiral doesn’t grant him all the rights in the world, especially towards you! 

---------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

“Hello, dear ‘husband’ of mine!” You coo, leaning against the doorframe. 

Thrawn raises his gaze from his datapad to lay on you, a tight smile flourishing on his lips. 

“Hello, Ch’acah. You seem in good spirits today.” 

You refrain your eyes from twitching at his compliment. Is he already playing the smartass? 

“What can I help you with?” He asks, laying his pad on his desk to fully focus on you, his eyes shining bright, “Is it about the baby? Do you need a back massage?” 

“I need nothing, WE need a discussion, however.” You start, entering the office. 

Thrawn tilts his head to you without departing from his small grin. He gestures to the chair on the other side of his desk. 

“Please take a seat. What do you wish to discuss, Cheo Ch’acah?” 

You do not sit down, preferring to lean forward, a hand on his desk, hovering over him. 

“I would like to discuss husband privileges and how you help yourself with them.” 

He squints at you, silent questions in his eyes. 

“Is it about the baby?” He finally asks. 

“No, Thrawn.” You cut short, “I would appreciate you stop referring to me as your wife to others.” 

“I do not follow.” 

You agitate your hand before his eyes. 

“Simple, see my naked finger? As long as there is no ring on it, you do not have the privilege to call me ‘your wife’. This is husband privilege and you have not upgraded the situation to that level yet!” 

His eyes navigate from your hand to your face, a puzzled expression on his features. 

“You cannot have your cake and eat it too, okay? If you want to parade as a husband, wife me up. Until then you are my ‘boyfriend’. I understand that you might be uncomfortable being referred to as a ‘boyfriend’ at your age and rank, but this is up to you at this point!” You snarkily explain, “I think I gave you enough hint that I wanted to be more than that, but you never proposed. So man up and accept that you are just a boyfriend for now!” 

He slowly blinks, his mouth behind his folded hands, listening attentively to your complaints. You abandon your sass for a sweeter tone. 

“But if you want to change things up, feel free to do so, I will not complain!” You raise back up, crossing your arms on your chest. 

He remains silent for a few more seconds with a stern expression before taking the ground. 

“I do not understand.” 

You gruff, annoyed. 

“Listen up Mister. You may be the father of our children but you do not get to polish your portrait with an honorable title you did not earn, okay?! It may be shameful for a Grand Admiral to get a woman pregnant without marrying her, but at that point that is on you! It is the fifth one and I still see no ring!” 

“(Y/n)...” He speaks incredibly calm but also deadly serious, “We are married.” 

You blink in silence. 

Is he gaslighting you or something? That would be a first in your relationship, but apparently it is never too late to start! 

You let out a sneer. 

“Would you please not take me for an idiot, Thrawn? I would really appreciate it.” 

“I am not taking you for an idiot, (Y/n). I am absolutely serious. Do you not remember the ceremony?” 

Is he... Is he serious right now? You consider him carefully like he was crazy. 

“No...? We never went to the temple or any officials of any kind?” 

“It was in the living room of our apartment, Ch’acah. We drank the tea, recited the vows, and made love all night.” His voice remains assured but you can see in his eyes he seems... distraught. 

“We... Drank tea and made love? Do you remember the amount of time we did that? At the apartment no less?” 

He looks into your eyes and lets out a deep sigh. He lowers himself to open a cabinet of his desk and takes out a metallic box that he puts on the desk for you to see.  

“I search for this tea for months.” He opens the box to reveal mauve tea leaves and a scent that punches in the face with memories “We brewed it together for an entire week, drank it sharing a cup, and recited the vows before going to bed. Do you not remember that night?” 

“I assumed you tried to be romantic after a long campaign!” 

“I asked you to tie your fate and life to mine for eternity.” He continues placidly. 

“I thought you were asking me for a baby! How was I supposed to know they were vows?” 

“You recited them back to me as the ceremony demanded.” 

“I simply reciprocated?! You asked me so I asked you in return!” 

You feel yourself getting dizzy. You do remember that evening now, it was chilly outside and thrawn prepared a fire, he turned off all other lights and invited you to sit with him in front of the fire to share a cup of that tea he purchased earlier near the wild regions and brew for an entire week. It tasted savory and a bit salty honestly. He prophesized his love to you and you gladly confessed yours back, he then took you languorously before that open fire all night, shielding you from the night with his mighty body. 

... Is that a Chiss wedding ceremony? 

“This tea is part of many legends on Chiss worlds. As it is said it bound the soul of two gods of the night for all eternity in our myths, and it became integral to our wedding ceremonies. Sharing it with your intended is the staple of any Chiss wedding.” He explains, “The vows and lovemaking are common to human practices.” 

You need to sit down. You are going to fall or something and the pregnancy doesn’t help! Seeing you getting weak Thrawn immediately stands up to give you support. You shakily pull the chair and sit on it with his help, breathing deeply. 

What did he just tell you? 

“You could have been clearer!” You admonish him. 

“The vows were pretty explicit.” He counters. 

“Either way! Do you think this is enough to get married in the Empire? Alien’s ceremonies hold no legality here!” You counter! 

He looks at you more and more confused. 

“I made you sign the legal papers the next day.” He retorts, a strange edge in the tone. 

“The ne- Those were marriage papers?!” You ask flabbergasted. 

His shoulders lower slightly. 

“Did you not read them?” 

“We were in the process of buying the apartment, I thought you needed my signature for co-ownership.” You explain, “Do you remember the amont of paper you asked me to sign? I did not have time to read everything!” 

He looks down at you from his full height, a hint of pain in the glow of his eyes. 

“Do you truly think I would get you pregnant without making you my wife first?” He finally asks, “And evince disrespect towards your personhood?” 

You bite your lips. That indeed seemed quite bizarre for him, and you were surprised to not see any ring appear on your finger after the announcement of your first pregnancy. When the second pregnancy arrived and still no ring was to be found you simply accepted that you did not know him as well as you first expected. 

Or so you thougt! 

“No...” You admit, “It would be quite... out of character.” 

He contemplates you in silence, hands clasped behind his back before skirting his desk. Very... tense. 

“Thrawn...” You breathe, calculating your error, “Ch’acah, I am truly sorry. I... I just...” 

His burning gaze turns to you, but you have no word to save yourself. What could you say now to soothe the wound? 

“Just tell me you did not pretend we were not together to others during this entire time.” He finally speaks with the coldest tone you ever heard from him. 

“No!” You immediately protest, “I never pretend such a thing!” 

He gauges you up and down, his lips pressed in a thin line before averting his gaze towards his ysalamiry statues. 

“Thrawn...” You call, standing back up to embrace him from behind, “I am sorry I did not realize sooner. I love you, do not be mad at me please...” 

You hear him breath deeply before taking your arms off of him and turning towards you, holding your hands. 

“I am not mad at you. I am simply a bit... Shocked.” 

You wince, squeezing his hand in an appeasing gesture. 

“I should have been clearer in my intentions. I assumed you understood the meaning of the ceremony as you went along with it. The blame is on me.” He edicts, recovering his regal attitude. 

“No, I should have understood on my own.” You correct him, “I should have understood when you reacted at my first pregnancy. You are not one to abandon your pregnant woman to uncertainty, I should have realized-” 

“Then it is both on us.” He stops you before it derails. 

“But... Why not a human ceremony too?” You cannot help but ask. 

“Back at the beginning of our relationship, you stated you did not like all this ceremonial. I thought you would be more receptive to an alien courtship.”  

And it downs on you. 

“Oh... I lied.” 

He tilts his head, question in his eyes.  

“I lied because I thought you would leave me if I told you I was thinking about marriage.” You bite your lips, “Like my ex.” 

He sighs deeply. 

“Like that impotent fool?” 

You bat your eyelids and grin, raising his hands to your lips to kiss his knuckles foundly. 

“I was wrong Thrawn, and I have never been happier.” 

“Are you?” He investigates, still on the defensive. 

“Yes! I entered this room as a possible future single mother of five and I will exit it as a married woman.” 

“You entered as a married woman.” He leans forward to kiss your forehead, recovering softer dispositions. “Now you can proclaim your status to the entire world.” 

“Like you did all this time?” You chuckle. 

“Indeed. I take great pride in being married to you and fathering our children. Your are my greatest success.” He confesses, holding you close to his giant stature in a tight hug. 

“I love you, Ch’acah.” You murmur only to him. 

“I love you more.” He smiles tightly, “Do I now have your blessing to flaunt my husband’s privileges?” He taunts. 

You cannot help but burst out laughing. 

“Yes! Yes you can!” 

And he captures your lips for an infinitely tender kiss. 

@bluechiss @justanothersadperson93 @thrawnspetgoose @Thrawnalani @twilekchiss @dance-like-russia-isnt-watching @obbicrystaleo @elise2174 @davesrightshoe @Holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni 

[tinfoil-jones]

Gravity Falls: For Your Own Good, Ch. 9

Summary: A few years after moving to Gravity Falls and having his lab built, Stanford Pines happens upon his estranged twin brother, Stanley. He mentally prepared himself to be suffocated by his brothers neediness all over again - what he wasn't prepared for was Stanley walking right past him like he didn't even notice him.

Rating: M for language, violence, and adult implications

Preface: Dialogue only, but some actions will be annotated for clarity. Cross-Posted on AO3 Here

First - Prev - Next

CH.9

“Why don’t criminals trust stairs?”

“Stanley, I am trying to work.”

“Because they’re always up to something.”

*Ford covering his mouth with his hand because he’s trying really hard not to laugh*

“Why don’t criminals like elevators? Because they hate getting taken down.”

*Ford faceplanting on his desk and slamming his fist on it because he’s trying not to laugh*

“What do you call a criminal snob going downstairs? A condescending con descending.”

“E-enough! I’m going to put you on mute if you don’t stop.”

“Ah, come on man. It’s not like I got much else to do here. I can’t even write in that notebook you guys gave me anymore cause I got nothing to write with.”

“Maybe you would still have writing utensils if we didn't run out because you chewed up all of the other ones we gave you.”

“I can’t help it, PhD. I’m on day seven of nicotine withdrawal and it’s still kicking my ass. I get that this whole lab is a ‘no smoking’ zone, but I saw stretch using dip, and you didn’t say anything; just looked at him in a passive aggressive, judgemental way.”

“Tobacco is a nasty habit, and you are better off losing that vice while you’re still in a controlled environment. Our father never kicked it on his own, so this is really for your own-.”

“Yeah, yeah Doc. For my own good. I’ve heard it a million times. Do you like, keep score of how many times you say that, is someone keeping track of it? Or is that your only excuse for the insane crap you’re always pulling.”

“If it will placate you and keep you quiet, I’ll wheel over a television.”

“You have one of those down here?”

“I primarily use it as a device that decrypts thoughts, but its original function is still intact. Let me bring it over.”

“How uncharacteristically considerate of you.”

“You’re watching The Black and White Period Piece Old Lady Boring Movie Channel.”

“Wait a second, where's the remote?”

“There isn’t one.”

“Stay tuned for the six episode marathon of The Six Wives of Henry VIII, starring Keith Michell as Henry VIII, Annette Crosbie as Catherine of Aragon, Dorothy Tutin as Anne Boleyn-”

“Change the channel. PhD, I swear to God.”

“Anne Stallybrass as Jane Seymour, Elvi Hale as Anne of Cleves, Angela Pleasance as Catherine Howard, and Rosalie Crutchley as Catherine Parr.”

“No- NO!”

*Ford presses the mute button on the cell*

(...)

160 minutes later…

“Stanford, I brought those scrap m- what in Sam Hell?”

“I appreciate it, Fiddleford.”

“Is there a particular reason Stan is staring unblinking at that TV screen?”

“I put on a soap opera because I thought he would hate it. But he… really got into it.”

“Is that the same reason why his desk chair is smashed in the corner?”

“Yes, there was a plot twist he did not find agreeable. I tried to change the channel after one episode, but he gave me such a look that I truly believe if I did, he would find a way to break the forcefield just to strangle me.”

“That’s… Not what I expected from someone like him.”

“I’ve never seen him get this way. Not even during a baseball game or boxing match where he made the wrong bet.”

“It can’t rightly be that interesting.” 

*Fiddleford pulls up a chair near the cell to watch the TV*

“You both do that. I still have important research to document.”

(...)

240 minutes later…

*all three of them are staring at the TV and don’t start blinking until the credits roll*

“I’ll tell you what, fellers, I can’t believe Gardiner got away with everything.”

“I know, right? Whatever Jesus approves of, I’m sure it’s not that.”

"We're Jewish, Stanley."

"Really? Well that explains why I distinctly remember the Aryan Brotherhood nearly beating me to death in prison."

"They what?!"

"Calm down PhD, I said nearly."

(...)

"Stanley, it has almost been ten days, it’s time to remove your stitches."

"Give me some nail clippers, I'll do it myself."

"Properly. Come on, don't be such a wuss about it."

“Can’t F do it instead?”

“No, he is in town on a supply run. Also, the only difference between you and I and under that shirt is the amount of rolls.”

“Ouch, low blow PhD. It’s not like you’re a runway model either. Fine, but any more cracks on my weight, and I’m going to remind you I’m a threat inside and outside of bars.”

"What are these, circles-? Wait, burns? ...Who did this to you?"

"... Don't worry about it."

"I am going to worry about it! Stanley, who did this?"

"It doesn't matter..."

"It does! Please, I'm your brother just-"

"Don't make me think about it, I don’t remember a lot but- I don't like remembering that."

"Oh Stanley." *hugs him even though it isn't returned* "I'm so sorry. Whatever happened, you didn't deserve that."

"You'd be surprised."

To be continued...

[avirael]

The Price of Failure

“Seven hells, A‘viloh! Open the damn door right now! I am worried about you, you idiot!”

After Haurchefant’s death the Miqo’te had locked himself up in a room at the Forgotten Knight and had barely spoken to anyone at all these last few days.

Go away - This is all my fault - They must hate me so - Stay away from me - I don’t want you to get hurt too.

With this and similar sentences, which Rael had day by day only heard muffled through the closed door, A’viloh had tried to get rid of them. Rael had expected the Miqo’te to blame himself for what had happened, they had even understood that A’viloh in his bizarre sense of self-loathing had decided to leave Fortemp Manor to not cause anyone any more pain. Anyone except himself of course.

Once again Rael felt so powerless seeing how A’viloh apparently saw all his fears confirmed, that as soon as he was involved in something, everything would eventually go horribly wrong and people would get hurt. Of course that was nonsense. But with the “evidence” at hand - and the poor Miqo’te really was a pretty unlucky fellow in this regard - it was also quite difficult to argue against it.

Seemingly he had also stopped letting Rael convince him of the opposite as they usually had so far. At least he had still talked to them. Through closed doors, but at least he had not ignored Rael entirely in another attempt to drive them away.

Well, not until today…

Another time Rael’s fist loudly drummed against the door.

“I swear, if you don’t open this damn door right now, I will break it down!”

Maybe getting angry at him was not going to encourage him any more than politely asking had but by now Rael’s patience reached its end.

“You are looking for the young Miqo’te, who’s living here since a few days, don’t you?”, a voice asked and Rael turned around to find the owner of the inn standing at the end of the corridor. “I saw you two together with mistress Tataru before.”

“I am.”, Rael confirmed and tried to look a little less like some hooligan about to trash the inn and attack its guests. “I am just worried about him…”

“Mhhh…”, the Elezen made a contemplating sound. “Well, all I can tell you is that your friend left a few hours ago and hasn’t returned since.”

“Left?!”, Rael blurted out, while their mind began to race. “To where?”

“That I don’t know, I am sorry…”, the man apologised.

It may have looked impolite but Rael left in a hurry without another word. Barely back outside they paused and realised that Ishgard was too big to just aimlessly run around and look for him. But where could he have gone?

At First Rael hurried to the chocobo stables. Somehow they had hoped to find him here cuddled to the bird Haurchefant had gifted him. It had been a naive hope, that of course proved wrong.

Then they ran to the city gates asking the guards if they had seen a person fitting A’viloh’s description leave the city and after that they did the same at the airship landing. Both times unsuccessful.

By now the sun, that had spent most of the day hidden by thick grey clouds, was slowly surrendering her last weak rays of light to the darkness of night. The lack of light would make searching even more difficult and Rael was out of ideas. Where else would A’viloh go?, they wondered when one last horrible idea crossed their mind.

As fast as Rael could they hurried back to the upper parts of the city, where at its highest point stood one of the most important places in town: The Vault.

The place where Haurchefant had been killed while trying to protect A‘viloh.

In a way it would be just like A’viloh to return here, if only to inflict more pain on himself and punish himself in the process. However as Rael walked towards the tall building they noticed the entrance had been sealed with a barrier and additionally a guard was stationed in front, informing Rael that the building remained closed for now due to ongoing investigations of the happenings around Thordan and his knights.

The guard hadn’t seen any Miqo’te around either and so Rael began to wonder what to do now. They could return to Fortemps Manor and ask Alphinaud and Tataru for help. Maybe even Artoirel and Emmanellain. Or go to the headquarters of the Temple Knights and speak to Ser Aymeric. Although every soldier in the city searching for A‘viloh possibly was a little exaggerated, this idea began to look more and more tempting to Rael with every passing minute. There was a nervousness inside their heart, a bad feeling, that was getting worse and worse with every passing second.

Rael had just walked down the first set of stairs when suddenly something in the cold night air changed. A strong breeze picked up, wind howling through the streets like a ghost. Feeling the strangeness of this sudden change Rael looked up to the night sky, where for a second they thought they saw the form of a bird circling in front of the glimmer of stars.

Then they blinked and it was gone. A shiver ran down Rael‘s spine. The feeling familiar but nonetheless in this case strangely unsettling, they gasped and almost stumbled. Their vision blurred for a moment and their eyes turned milky white, as Rael‘s mind was forcefully pulled away by a sudden vision.

Rael found themself standing on a square somewhere in Ishgard. It seemed familiar and Rael thought they recognised it from somewhere near Fortemps Manor. The air felt unreasonably chilling even through their warm clothes and Rael only slowly adjusted to the feeling of having a vision after none of them had shown up for so long.

Then Rael saw A’viloh.

There he stood, only a few steps away, at the edge of the square, where the higher parts of the city bordered onto the vast, foggy nothingness of the Holy Sea. But the Miqo’te’s tear-stained gaze was not focused on the bottomless depth below, but on the moon and the stars above.

This world… wouldn’t it be better off without me in it? No one would miss me at all…

A‘viloh did not say this aloud but Rael heard his voice just as clearly as if he had spoken instead of just thought it. It made Rael’s blood freeze in their veins.

Like petrified they watched A’viloh slowly raising his arms as if they were wings, like a bird that wanted to take flight.

Just that he wasn’t flying.

He was falling.

In an unnaturally slow motion he tilted forward, falling into the abyss and while Rael began to scream he was already gone.

[mykingdomforapen]

“Little Talks” by Of Monsters and Men but for Daniel and Maura sorry sorry sorry

[itsahotminuteinbetween]

'...you know jokes like those actually hurt me, right?'

"who said I was joking?"

.

.

.

'oh.'

[ihavebeesinmybrain]

Feeling A Lot Of Moral Guilt

[dreams-in-daylight]

You’re gone, gone, gone away

I wish you’d disappear

All that’s left is a ghost of you

Now we’re torn, torn, torn apart

There’s nothing we can do

Just let me go we’ll meet again soon

Now wait, wait, wait for me

Please hang around

I’ll see you when I fall asleep

[theres-whump-in-that-nebula]

Oh my god. You know it’s getting bad when you start doing things you don’t even want to do to procrastinate on something you really do want to do.

It would be one thing if it were something like a hobby; but the thing I want to do is also extremely necessary to my life.

[trashbaget]

tell me your failed/embarrassing flirting stories to make me feel better, i’ll go first: today i said “get out of my way” forgot to say “i’m kidding” then immediately said “bye”

[exopelagic]

I wiped out so hard tonight my KNEES

[thebumblecee]

!

[bugwat3r]

you ever get so mad about how incorrect someone is about your hyperfixation that you literally start crying and screaming

[shortqueershakespeare]

Depressed depressed depressed