sparepartsthrowaway

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No no you don't understand! I want to watch this show/movie, read this book, listen to this podcast, etc.! But I must be in the right mindset and the exact head space to begin, or I just can't!

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walk’ em like dog!!!

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LORD HAVE MERCY this is so good 😩

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Hello, I had an idea for fic but it's a bit different to what you typically write so I understand if you wouldn't want to write it.

Imagine some rebels...maybe members of ghost crew intercepts some of Thrawns correspondence thinking that it's really important intel only to find it's some sweet back and forth between him and his SO.

They would be so surprised to find the big bad Grand Admiral being all cute in his messages. 👀

Interesting idea, let's see what it looks like!

⁺ 　 . ✦ Thrawn x F!reader ✦ . 　⁺

Tags: Kallus POV, pregnancy mention, Thrawn and reader are secretly married

Kallus types on the keys, eyes fixed on the screen. 

Everyone is asleep in the Ghost but Kallus cannot sleep. They have been hunted mercilessly and now they are exhausted, Hera found a hideout and everyone fell face first in their pillows. 

But Kallus is obsessed with a thought, something he did not have time to investigate while he was still a mole in the Empire. 

He still needs to prove himself to his new rebel companions and he hopes that lead could be his ticket! Back when he was under the Empire he noticed ghost communications emanating from Grand Admiral Thrawn’s personal comms and terminals and while he found them suspicious they were not coded as orders that he needed to dig for the rebellion. 

But now those communications shine in a very suspect light and he wants to get to the bottom of it. 

He is no master hacker and Thrawn evidently changed all the codes of his ship to prevent Kallus from recovering them now that he is a rebel, but Thrawn cannot decide how to modify such encryptions, it obeys a very specific bureaucratic imperial logic. 

Logic Kallus grew accostumed to. 

For 4 weeks he tried to break the code, spending sleepless nights on this forsaken screen destroying his eyes in the dark and tonight he finally got it! 

This is a one-time thing, knowing Thrawn as he does he will realize someone broke his security and stole his secrets.  

And considering the encryptions on those communications, he will be absolutely furious and the hunt will get worse. 

Kallus knows it 

He enters, gathers a maximum of information, eliminates as many proofs of his presence, and runs to wake up Hera to change hideouts immediately! 

He thought he would discover a one-way channel through which Thrawn transferred his plans to the Imperial palace to the Navy’s siege or even Lord Vader or the Emperor...  

But he noticed those data left the Chimaera to return straight back to it... 

Internal ship discussions do not use the triads to be sent and use an intranet and a computer to communicate informations. But Thrawn decided to muddy his trail by sending the data to a triad that recodes it again before sending the data back to the Chimaera. 

With whom was he communicating and about what!? 

He finishes typing his command and a new window pops up before his eye 

A Discussion 

To a certain “Ch’acah” 

He never encountered that word. Is that a title? Nobody on the Chimaera is named Ch’acah. 

... 

What the hell...? 

Ch’acah: ”How was your day, Thrawn?” 

Thrawn: “Uneventful. My planning brought us to victory again and we are gaining in the rebels. Only Konstantine remains a wild card.” 

Ch’acah: “Again? When will he learn that we need his cooperation for the plans to work as intended? He can’t allow himself to do what he wants like that!” 

Thrawn: “I agree.” 

Ch’acah: “I will try to have a word with him.” 

Thrawn: “Thank you for your concern Ch’acah, but I would prefer you refrain. It will only had to your stress, and you do not need stress right now.” 

Ch’acah: “I am pregnant, not dying, silly.” 

Thrawn: “I prefer to be safe than sorry.” 

... 

Kallus blinks and reread all of that. 

Pregnancy? Daring to call Thranw ‘silly’? 

What did he stumble across? 

He keeps reading 

Thrawn: “I would never forgive myself if something happened to our baby.” 

Ch’acah: “Nothing is going to happen to me or the baby, especially when I am with you on the Chimaera. I know you will do your best to protect us.” 

Thrawn: “I am doing my best. Nothing will ever reach you two while I am alive, I swear it Ch’acah.” 

Ch’acah: “Hihi, I know my love, I know.” 

Thrawn: “I miss you daily even though we see each other every day. Hiding ourselves from the world tear my heart to pieces.” 

Ch’acah: “You can reenact your marriage proposal on the bridge before everyone else if you want! <3” 

Thrawn: “ (Y/n)... You know I cannot.” 

Kallus almost spat out his caff 

YOU? 

You and... Thrawn are together? A couple? And you are pregnant?! 

He remembers chatting with you from time to time and honestly praising your performance when he was still loyal to the Empire, when he turned to the rebellion he started avoiding you, judging you as a danger to his cover. 

He always found you competent and intelligent, and visibly Thrawn thought the same and got seduced. 

He would have never guessed Thrawn would get his heart stolen! And by you? 

You were more dangerous than he first judged! 

Thrawn: “If we are revealed you would become a target. The rebels and the Empire will try to get to you, to the baby, to reach me.” 

Ch’acah: “I know... I was joking. Me too I would prefer to be free to hug you whenever I want...” 

Thrawn: “Soon, Ch’acah, soon... When my true plans will succeed, when I know everyone in the galaxy is safe from that exterior threat, we will be together and free. I love you, ch’eo Ch’acah, more than anything.” 

Ch’acah: “Me too, my love, more than anything.” 

Kallus takes a minute 

This is not what he expected 

Not at all even 

He feels like he walked in on something he should have never seen... 

He never suspected that... softer... side of the Grand Admiral Thrawn. 

He doesn’t know if that humanizes him in his eyes or gives him the creeps. 

Thrawn is deadly and Kallus doesn’t really want to discover how he is when someone were to stand between him and you... 

Between him and his baby... 

Kallus thinks, does he even have it in himself to target a pregnant woman? 

Would it not be what an Imperial would do? A rebel would probably have more morals than that... 

Kallus contemplates the messages, the love that was hidden even to his eyes. He remembers you as a diligent and loyal officer to Thrawn and the Chiss showed respect to your person and gave a lot of consideration to your opinions on his tactics and plans in retrospect. 

Now that Kallus has those informations, a lot of things click in his mind, about you and Thrawn’s behaviors in the presence of the other. 

A secret couple 

A hidden pregnancy 

Thrawn is right about one thing, the Emperor will certainly try to get that baby, the offspring of his most prized tactician 

This is literally a death sentence for you, it is only a matter of time. No rebel will even need to intervene: if Thrawn does nothing, the Emperor will get to him himself. 

Kallus decides to exit the conversation 

Destroys as much proof of his visit as he can 

And stand up to wake up Hera and flee somewhere safe. 

Thrawn will never allow such secret to spread and will do his best to hunt the intruder until he slits his throat 

But somehow 

For some reason 

Kallus sympathizes with his new enemy, he would not want to be in his position 

Never. 

@bluechiss @justanothersadperson93 @thrawnspetgoose @thrawnalani @twilekchiss @dance-like-russia-isnt-watching @obbicrystaleo @elise2174@davesrightshoe @holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni @princesslunamoon19 @janjtje @helrose8

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Do you think it's wrong to use chatGPT to write? I have lot of my own ideas of all kind of stories i even have entire scene in my head but I suck at writing (and I'm also super procrastinating) also with English not being my first language. So I use chatGPT (but I don't actually post it anywhere its mostly just for myself). Is it really bad?

Yes

Yes, I do think it is wrong.

I will hold your hand saying that, but sucking at writing and English not being your first language are not valid excuses.

You'll never get better unless you write yourself. You need practice. Who gives a fuck if the first stories are "bad" (whatever that means). You already have the most important thing for writing: IDEAS.

Why spoil those ideas with plain, boring, unoriginal, stolen Ai writing when you could give it your own twist, your very special flair, your very own je-ne-sais-quoi to flavor and elevate those ideas?

You don't have that je-ne-sais-quoi to make your story unique yet? Of course: You are using Chat Gpt instead of practicing and perfecting your craft. You will not develop it unless you practice it.

I know it can seem scary to write, it's overwhelming, but no half-baked AI story will EVER come close to the sentiment of satisfaction and self-accomplishment you feel when you put the final "." to a chapter.

It's unoriginal, stolen content, nothing truly creative and satisfying can come out of it. It has no flavor, it has no soul, no intent, no spark behind it.

It's just boring.

Try writing, do it FOR YOURSELF

You deserve BETTER than flavorless AI writing, your ideas deserve better than AI, they deserve that human touch, YOUR very own touch.

I can't even start to put into words the pure pleasure I feel when I write, it's a fire, a need I have to satisfy, I NEED to write, this is such a pleasure to see your story appearing on the page and have full control of it. This is MY story, MY ideas, MY VOICE

MY

UNIQUE

UNREAPLACABLE

VOICE

You need to find yours, for your very own creative soul, for your own good. No AI can give you that.

Let's say you try and the first chapter is "disappointing" to you

WHO GIVE A FUCK?!

You already put more effort into that single chapter than all of the AI users ever put in their """"own writing""" ever and you are therefore more legitimate. Your ideas are more legitimate. They inherently have more value than whatever AI may vomit on a document ever.

Write, draw, sing, make movies, we are inherently artful creatures, and you deserve to nourish and grow that part of you, using AI will only atrophy this part of yourself until it dies.

Write, erase words, create entire paragraphs and delete them, forget a WIP for months, and feel your heart jump in joy rediscovering it one day.

This is a muscle that needs training.

The first chapters won't necessarily be good, but this is NORMAL. You are new to it. Hell, my own first chapters are TRASH, but those are MINE, they came from MY CREATIVE SOUL and were made to please and cater to me. I kept trying, I kept pushing because it is a fire burning inside of me.

Do I still think my writing is trash? Depends, someday yes, someday no, but the pleasure of creation goes beyond the final results. It supersedes anything else.

I think my writing is still not good enough but some people find it pleasant enough to decide to stick around my blog to keep reading me, so my writing has qualities and values, even if I stop posting.

Nobody wants to stick around AI writing, it's easy and flat, not even taking into account Chat gpt's limitations on touchy subjects.

I started plenty of chapters with one intent and ended up with an unexpected final text because new ideas kept coming up while writing.

Ai will just give you a boring straight line from A to B, while your own writing will make you travel all up to Z and make you discover numbers and colors and music.

You are doing a huge disservice to yourself anon, very honestly.

And for the "English isn't my first language", well it's not mine either. Want to know how I got to write in English daily? I read fanfics.

Real fanfics real people wrote. It took some time but I got there. School did not give me my English current level, fanfics did.

Find a fandom you love and read, read, read, read, and read. Use all the Google Translate and WordReference you need until you are comfortable, it gets easier with time.

Like WRITING *gasp!*

Maybe you have an idea for an INSANE AU nobody wrote for that fandom yet, maybe it deserves better than some dry robot words and a real human influence instead.

And lastly "I don't actually post it anywhere its mostly just for myself", it may be just for yourself but using AI is endangering everyone, it is a DISASTER ecologically speaking. For each idea you put in Chat gpt you can just empty 20 water bottles on the ground directly and you'll have the same creative and ecological result.

TLDR : it's stolen, unoriginal, soulless content, its an ecological disaster, and your ideas simply deserve better than that.

(And I really, REALLY hope you did not feed anyone's fics to GPT to finish them or give it ideas for """"your"""" chapters)

ALSO, WHAT I SAID STANDS FOR ART TOO.

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IT’S A WONDERFUL LIFE 1946 – dir. Frank Capra

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STOPPPP 😭😭😭😭😭😭 can't believe I did that idk how I missed those two specifically XD

Loved it tho 🤞😋

When you’re in the middle of a fic and realise you’ve missed a very critical tag

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Hey Patrick, I thought of something funnier than 2024

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It's a Wonderful Life (1946)

Directed by Frank Capra

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25 DAYS OF CHRISTMAS — (25/25) ↳ It's a Wonderful Life (1946)

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merry christmas to all scumbags, maggots, and cheap lousy faggots<3

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HELLOOOOOO POOKIE YOU KNOW I'M A MASSIVE HISTORY NERD (LITERALLY DOING IT FOR MY DEGREE) I WILL GIVE YOU MY GUESSTIMATE BECAUSE I AM ALSO CURIOUS ABOUT OUR DARLING GRAND ADMIRALS ANNUAL SALARY!!!!!! (please don't throw tomatoes at me if I'm wrong I haven't touched ratios since GCSE and that was 3 years ago 🫶 also I got a 4 on FOUNDATION paper so I'm definitely not greatly qualified so don't take my workings as 1000% fact!)

The currency conversion is from RM (Reichsmark) to DM (Deutsche Mark) to Euros (€ <- in case you don't know the symbol 🙂‍↕️) I've done this specifically because 1) Reichsmark is obviously not in use and hasn't been since 1948 and is hard to convert where as the Deutsche Mark is what replaced it 2) the DM was replaced with the Euro on Jan 1st 1999 so is easier to convert into modern euros 3) the RM to DM is a 10:1 which I hope I haven't fucked up here because that should be easy maths LMAOOOO

Now onto the question

A Nazi Grand Admiral made € 1329.36 a year WITHOUT bribes (they were given 26,000 RM per year aka 2600 DM) they also were exempt from income tax which was very high, senior officers got a special allowance for like food and medicine (which I am making an educated guess to be also €20.45 [400RM aka 40DM] as general admirals got €100 less like they did in wartime costs), I think they also got bday money that was the equivalent of € 12782.29 (250,000 RM aka 25000 DM) that was tax free (although the interest wasn't LMFAOOOOO) , they got about € 20.45 (400 RM aka 40DM) a month for wartime costs, they got a bribe of €204.52 (4000 RM aka 400DM) on a monthly basis as well

These numbers are probably all averages but don't quote me on these numbers

My information comes from:

Norman Goda, "Black Marks: Hitler's Bribery of his Senior Officers During World War II", The Journal of Modern History, 72, no.2 (200) 413–452. (If you don't have access to it the Wikipedia page tells you the numbers I just double check BC I'm by all accounts an academic in training lolll)

SO THE ESTIMATED GRAND (hahaha) TOTAL IS:

€17,056.69 a year (on average)

Now onto the infamous credits!

There are a lot of guestimates on the internet and honestly I'm horrible at understanding if someone's workings is accurate ESPECIALLY when it links to a make-believe currency but the source I used is allegedly pretty decent so blame them not me if it's Wrong

https://aminoapps.com/c/star-wars/page/blog/1-credit-to-dollar-conversion/VvF7_u74DBzzDBY3m7b4RK1MWomaZ

TL;DR - 1 credit is the equivalent of 4USD ($4) and that is currently the equivalent of €3.84 (3.84 euros)

Now converted to credits should be about:

€65,497.69 a year (on average)

Ofc do not take this as gospel I am tired (it is 23:36pm rn) so I could be mistaken and also it's a fantasy world so you can easily make up your desired amount especially because (in my opinion) Thrawn is the best they got so he'd probably also get several bonuses a year on top of that and even if he is underpaid because he's an alien (never forget the social factors when considering money!) he'd probably get enough bonuses to make the same or more than the human grand admirals around him !

So please just go insane if you want I really don't want someone to take this as me trying to be the fun police when I did this for funsies ❤️

Hello There, I liked how you answered that anons question (Thrawn definitely uses the finest hair care products).

I also have a Thrawn question that I haven't been able to find an answer for...

How much do you think Thrawn gets paid? (If at all?). I'm assuming as a very senior military officer he's earning a decent wage but I haven't been able to find any source anywhere that states how much officers were earning 🤔.

He seems to have some assets because in Thrawn book 1 he's buying all the Clone Wars era tech out of his own pocket...

I know it's silly but was wondering what you think?

Unfortunately, we have no tangible numbers to work with. We don't even know how much a Credit is worth in American dollars, even if 1 dollar = 1 credit in the Disney parks for sake of simplicity.

So I can only give you the salary of an admiral of the US Navy as of 2024, which is $18,808.68 per month for 20 years of service ($225,704.16 a year)

Of course, Thrawn was not at the Empire service for 20 years, but The Emperor is not an idiot and must have accounted for all of his military years combined.

Considering the structure of the Empire, they must mollycoddle their high officers, so I am 100% convinced he has a fully furnished big apartment as official accommodation (Non-canon, I'm going with my guts here) and a personal driver/pilot and everything.

I tried to look at the salary of an admiral of Nazi Germany (as it inspired the Empire) but Google doesn't have a straightforward answer and I can't review archived German paperwork.

Do I have a real answer? No, but he surely has the cash and could live pretty lavishly, but I have in mind that he must never leave his suite in the Chimaera.

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Oml... I now must reread this entire series NOW.

Chekmate and Chaos

Part1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32, 33, 34, 35

Tags : Reader is disabled, fluff, self-doubts, ptsd, cuddling, hurt-comfort, street fight, domestic, groceries, rescue, Thrawn is a caregiver at heart...

This is your last day together before the end of your leave. You have a present for Thrawn you hope he will like, but also some mundane tasks to take care off, like a married couple...

Thrawn x F!reader

You feel a tender caress on your hair, making you sigh, your cheek pressed against something really warm and pulsating rhythmically, sending vibrations through your skin. 

You yawn and blink. 

You are in your living room, sprawling on the couch in the arms of Thrawn. You remember the evening you spent in front of a movie, hugging each other, chuckling at the cheezy acting. You also remember you were too occupied kissing each other to care about the rest of the movie, him laying his entire body on yours, keeping you trapped under him. 

You thought it would have dissolved in a completely different situation, but he kept it to kissing, pressing you tight against himself, breathing in your scent, holding your cheek. You ended up both sleeping on the couch in each other arms. 

Your face is resting on Thrawn’s chest as he hugs you while caressing your hair. You tentatively look up to him.  

He stayed with you to embrace you and cradle you. 

He lowers his gaze to meet yours and smiles tenderly at you, his hand leaving your hair to graze your cheek with his back. 

“Good morning, Ch’acah.” He whispers like a sound too loud would make you implode. 

You smile faintly at him, hugging him tighter. 

“Hi, you.”  

You brush your cheek against his hand as a purr starts in response. The whole room smells like him, wrapping around you in a comforting embrace. You kiss his knuckles as his hand passes next to your lips. 

“Are you hungry?” He asks gently. 

“No.” You yawn. 

He tilts his head, this wasn’t the answer he expected. 

“Yes Terribly..” You try to save yourself. 

“Good try.” He retorts, “Come eat with me, please.” 

He kisses your forehead and stands up, holding your hand to guide you to your table. He lets you sit down while he rummages through your cupboards. You see him agitating himself, preparing the breakfast for the both of you.  

He seems to hesitate several times on how to proceed but intimates you sit back down each time you stand up to come help him 

‘’It is a simple recipe. I should be able to handle it.’’ He says resolutely. 

You sit back again and let him cook, silently brooding. 

Why is he cooking ? 

How long are you still going to fail him ? 

He finally turns back with avocado toast, with avocado properly mixed and toast not burnt. 

He lays a plate in front of you, two full toasts, lavishly garnished with ripe avocado. 

You are, clearly and irrepressably, not hungry enough for two full toasts. 

He sits beside you and wish you a good meal, you nod, your lips pressed in a thin line. 

You take one toast to nibble one corner and immediately regret it. He put lemon juice in the avocado and the acidic taste immediately upset you. 

You wince and put the toast back on the plate. 

Thrawn who is munching on his own piece silently observes you. He wipes the crumbs off his perfect blue lips with his thumb before taking your plate to dispose of it. 

“Thrawn...” You try before his mutism, “It’s not your fault, it’s me. Do not get angry, I just cant this morning.” 

“I am not angry in the slightest, Ch’acah.” He simply responds, back turned to you, doing... something. 

Imagine your surprise when he turns back and hands you a plate of white bread with chocolate spread, something he notoriously looks at with dissatisfaction. You open your eyes wide. 

“You hate when I eat that.” You say, incredulous. 

He sits down and takes his toast to bite into it. 

“If the only way I have to make sure you eat is serving you your favorite unhealthy food, it will do for now.” He simply responds. 

Him who’s always been a sticker to a healthy diet and manners of living... 

You take one slice and bite into it. Even the deliciously chocolaty treat isn’t enough to awaken your appetite. But you eat nonetheless not to alarm him. 

“We need to do groceries.” He announces. “We emptied the fridge yesterday.”  

“I’ll take care of it.” You say. 

“I’ll come with you.” 

You glance at him. 

“Why?” 

“The pantry is always full when I arrive, I never had to go grocery shopping in the area.” He explains. 

Of course the pantry is always full for his return: it’s your task! Make sure your man doesn’t starve to death. And a Grand Admiral as way more important things to do than groceries! 

‘But... I could get a glimpse of his tastes.’ the thought crosses your mind. 

“All right, I know a little market. We should find everything here.”  

“Good.”  

You observe Thrawn opening a pillbox to swallow protein and vitamin capsules. Your heart sinks. Since your... ‘incident’ you stopped buying meat altogether and Thrawn modifies his diet when he is at the apartment with you. 

You’re depriving him of vital nutrients for his athletic lifestyle... 

You gulp down your bite with difficulty, feeling guilty. 

He notices you fixing him and tilts his head as he swallow the capsules down. 

“A problem?” He asks 

“No... Not at all...” You lower your gaze on your slice of bread. 

You finish your plate completely to prove your point even if the knots in your stomach complain heavily and shoot him a smile. 

He slowly nods approvingly taking a fruit to bite into. You cross your arms on the table, observing his pearly white teeth biting into the juicy flesh, how his blue lips wrap around the plump of the fruit, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he swallows another bite. Thrawn lazily scrolls on his datapad, discovering today’s news, and keeping himself informed. You feel your lips stretch into a smile as you admire your boyfriend in the daylight through the window, the sunrays gently caressing his deep blue skin, the shades varying whether in light or in shadow, enhancing his cheekbones and forehead ridges. 

You see his brows frown slightly every time he reads political news, trying really hard to understand all the ins and outs of what he is reading, but you know he fails. At the fifth time, you take pity on him and invite him to give you the pad to give him a little rundown of the politics. 

You’re scrolling through the different news articles when an article catches your attention, stopping you in your tracks. You read the title carefully before it the article in its entirety to be absolutely certain. 

But there is no doubts possible. 

“The senate intends to harden the conditions for marriage between humans and aliens.” You announce with an empty voice. 

So many new laws of this order have been put in place lately, preventing the adoption of human children by alien couples, separating humans and aliens in school, etc... 

You read and reread the title of the article, incredulous, your blood turning cold. 

What if... You can never marry Thrawn? 

What if this option just disappears? 

“Really?” He responds casually. 

You look up to him in surprise. 

He is focused on his avocado toast, seemingly unaffected by the news. Your mind flashes you the memory of him silently observing the storefront of a wedding shop with sparkling eyes. 

But today he... simply doesn’t care.  

You gulp and swallow down your doubts and questions, you’ve only been dating for almost over a year but lived together for less than four months total. 

Marriage may be premature for your couple yet! 

But still... 

You would have liked if he appeared displeased by the news... 

“Either way it talks about economics and stock exchange prices.” You finish, disheartened but with an assured voice. 

You keep your face neutral, hiding your worries deep inside you, away from his eyes as you scroll back to the top of the news site. Every article praises the decisions of the Senate and Emperor, saying how moral and great those choices are and how they will rectify the former decadent mores of the former Republic. You sip your caff in silence, focused on your reading before laying the pad, a weird strained feeling weighing you down. 

Thrawn pats his gorgeous lips with a napkin before turning to you and taking your hand lying on the table to squeeze it. 

“This is our final day together, cheo Ch’acah. Is there anything you want to do?” 

You purse your lips for a split second. 

“What I want to- Wait!” You jump on your feet and head to your bedroom, leaving Thrawn guessing in the kitchen. 

You kneel down on the floor to look under your bed, you extend your hand and search for something under the wooden frame until the tips of your fingers touch something. You grasp it and pull it off under the bed, it is dusty by now so you blow air on it and brush dust away as you return to the kitchen. 

Thrawn silently observes you coming back and handing him the wrapped package. He considers the rectangular package with polite curiosity before taking it in his hands and looking at you as you sit back, a silent question in his eyes. 

“I have no idea when your birthday is and I realized we didn’t have one yet in the apartment.” You explain with a small smile. 

His fingers brush the edges of the package, trying to guess what is under the gift wrap, his mind searching for clues in your demeanor.  

“This is very delicate of you. Thank you.” He simply says, thankful. 

After turning the package in every angle and weighing it up he finally decides to open it. You bite your lips, not losing a crumb of the spectacle as he takes out a new black velvety box. He turns it to discover his full name engraved in it with silvery accents. He squints, putting the box down to unlock the latches and open the lid. 

He blinks as he discovers a brand new Shah-tezh game with its ivory shiny demesne and pieces. 

“Tadaaaaaaam!” You chuckle, “I thought you would like to play it again!”  

He delicately takes one of the pieces to admire it closely, how well carved and shiny they are, all the minute details drawn in the ivory, all the attention given to the finishing touches of each piece. 

You devour him with your eyes, head resting on both of your hands, awaiting his reaction to your little surprise with great impatience. It’s been months since you hid this present, never finding the right time to give it to him! It cost you a little fortune to find this artisanal game and you really hope he likes it. 

He finally replaces the piece in the box with an amused expression. 

“This brings back memories.” Thrawn notes. 

“Good memories?” You playfully insist. 

“Of course. Very good memories.” He slowly nods in approval, “Thank you for your gift, it is a delicious idea.” 

“Do you want to play now?” 

He tilts his head. 

“Already?” 

“Why not? We have nothing to do outside of the groceries. For our last day together we could play all day long!” You propose. 

“Alright. I let you choose your color.” He indicates,. 

As you do the dishes Thrawn puts the game in place and serves you both another cup of caff. 

You sit down and start playing together like you used to in the Academy a decade ago... 

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

“I will never beat you.” You half-complain, half-joke. 

“This type of game fuels directly in my strong suits it will be quite hard for you; But you considerably improved your strategies during those ten years, you made really good progress.” Thrawn praises. 

You walk in the street, playing with the straps of the bags, making them swirl at your hand. The sun pains to shine on this floor, managing to brighten the alley only through holes in the permabeton and broken windows and you cannot resist the childish impulse to shoot in some trash laying around with your feet.  

Thrawn follows you closely, observing this new environment in silent... displease.  

You had to go down several floors of Coruscant to join the market you had in mind and while your own neighborhood isn’t what you would call rich or especially secure, you are at ease. You are confident in your capacity to protect yourself with your training but you feel Thrawn’s arm circling your shoulders when you pass a dark street where obvious spice traffics are taking place. Each inhabitant of this floor considers Thrawn regal allure with curiosity and... hunger. You chose an old cheap coat to not clash in the environment and wear a mute grey and dark colors but Thrawn natural elegance is hard to hide and he clearly appears as an outsider here. Everyone is grey here, features drawn and tired traits, and even aliens’ colors are muted in this environment, making Thrawn’s healthy and vibrant blue skin discords even more. You feel his hand squeezing your shoulder as you walk past a group of young adults sniffing... something white and powdery on a flat surface. 

“Do you come here often?” He investigates. 

“It’s the only market in the area where I can find products from my homeworld. So yeah, pretty much.” You explain. 

He just nods, not about to start an argument about the rights and wrongs of rummaging in such a neighborhood, he trusts you to be able to protect your own person. 

That doesn’t stop him from pulling you closer to him at each black look you receive from the local punks, someone even spits in your direction... 

”The atmoshere is much lighter inside the market, you’ll see.” you reassure him. 

The arches of the covered market are finally visible and you inadvertently accelerate. You want to show certain products of your homeworld to Thrawn and you hurry. But Thrawn holds you down and forces you to slow down, pressing your two bodies together. 

You’re about to ask him what’s up when you notice the group of men at the feet of the arches, laying against the walls with their cans of beer, their blades and bats at their belts shining in the artificial crude light of the floor. They are guarding the entry of the market like Cerberus guarding hell’s gate, checking out passersby, whistling at women who hurry away, and shoving people at random. 

As you approach the entry you readjust the straps of your bags on your shoulders and Thrawn keeps you real close, not letting you escape his protective grasp.  

“Bag and pockets!” One of them barks at you when you reach the arches. 

You sniff but open your bag for him to check. That’s not your first rodeo with them. 

“In good company today, sweet thing?” He laughs crudely. 

“Maybe, what’s it to you?” You retort. 

He sniffs with disdain, caressing his blade as a warning. You hold his gaze. 

“And your knight?” He finally turns to Thrawn who didn’t release you for a second. 

Thrawn takes out his identity card and shows it between two fingers. 

“This is the only thing I have in my pockets.” He announces. 

They look into each other eyes, gauging each other in silence. 

The cerberus snarls and spits on the ground. 

“Let them pass.” He says to his colleagues blocking the entry to you, “And no funny business, we patrol inside.” 

You flip him as you pass, Thrawn’s hand protectively around your shoulders. You enter the market, squinting at the sudden brightness, and discover a place full of life and products, buzzing with activity. 

“Who are they?” Thrawn asks as you walk away from the entry. 

“The local gang. They are a little on edge lately, they conflict with other groups.”  

You start walking among the aisles. True to your words, the market is way safer than the neighborhood where it is located with bright and clean aisles and fresh and diverse products, it may be just on the cheaper side. Families are here with children running around and you feel Thrawn’s grasp on your shoulder slowly loosening as he judges the place safe. 

Something catches your gaze and you immediately pull Thrawn to it,  

“Look at that! Sweets from my homeworld!” 

You take one immediately in your mouth, savoring the rush of sugar. Thrawn takes one, making it roll between his fingers, weighting it, raising it to his nose. 

“Those ones are citrus, but they come with a lot of different tastes.” You explain, sucking on the candy in your mouth. 

Thrawn considers the treat before putting it in his mouth. 

“They are called ‘bétises’, they were my favorite candies growing up.” 

“Of course they were your favorite with such a name.” He responds deadpan. 

You chuckle as he shakes his face with a tight exhausted smile. You take out your grocery list and head toward the vegetables. You choose some green onions, some Kebroot and hesitate between some Corellian eggplants and some Anoth eggplant. One is sweeter and more fondant while the other is more acidic. 

Thrawn helps you choose the freshest ones, manipulating the vegetables and sniffing them. 

You fill your bags with goodies until Thrawn takes it from you to carry them. 

You walk among the aisles, stopping here and there for free sampling of the products. You succumb to temptation and buy a big pot of honey from your home planet, drooling at the simple idea of diving a spoon into it to taste it.  

You reach the tubers section and you feel Thrawn slowing down. You stop to observe what he saw. 

“I remember those ones.” He says, “The Ascendancy bought a lot of tubers from merchants of the Chaos to feed its population.” He takes one in his large hand, weighing it carefully.  

The tuber, an orange vegetable ribbed of purple lines has a delicate fragrance. Thrawn takes one slice that is here for free sampling and nods. You take one in your mouth and almost break down crying. 

Your mouth immediately catches fire and you pant with your tongue out. You avidly take the small glass of blue milk the market gardener hands to you amused and you gulp it down with relief, welcoming the greasy liquid in your mouth to wash down any capsaisin. 

Thrawn eyeballs you with a tight grin. 

“Spicy, is it not?” 

You let out a huge gasp as your lips part from the milk glass. 

“Yes! Yes it is!” 

His gaze lowers down to the vegetable with fondness. 

“It reminds me of my childhood. I did not expect to find some of those products here.” 

You tilt your head, squinting. 

“Because you saw several produce from the Ascendancy?” 

“Three or four.” He places the vegetable down and takes a step signaling you can move on. 

You observe him dumbfounded. 

“And it didn’t cross your mind to tell me so we could buy them?” 

He consider you like it downed on him. 

“I... Would not know how to cook them if we bought them.” He explains. 

You roll your eyes with a sigh. 

“Give me ten!” You order the market gardener. 

You seize the full bag they hand you, take Thrawn’s hand in yours, and force him to retrace the entire way, asking him if these were the products or not. 

You’ll do this market 5 times if you must, but you’ll find all the Ascendancy products and cook him a good meal like back home! Or as close as you can get. 

He obediently follows behind you, letting you pull him in silence as you question him at each and every new product. 

FINALLY! You find the four in question and buy them under his careful burning gaze. 

“You did not have to.” He finally says as you rearrange your bags to make a place for the fresh bean paste of his homeworld, squatting in the middle of one aisle. 

You sniff at his reaction. 

“And why not?” You raise your gaze to him, “Don’t you like when I take care of you?” 

His lips stretch in a thin line for a split second as he seems to realize what this entire circus is about. 

“Thank you...” He eventually lets out past his lips. 

You slow down your movement in the bag, looking up at him. Is it so foreign to him? To be taken care of? 

You stand back on your feet and on your tiptoes to reach his cheek that you kiss tenderly. 

“I’ll cook you a good meal with all of that! You will guide me to achieve a Chiss-flavored recipe.” 

You hear the faintest of purr as he seems to lean into the kiss. 

“I propose you choose the spices and chilis and I’ll head over there to retrieve some legumes, and we will finish with some dairy, okay?” 

He stops in his tracks. 

“You want me to choose ingredients while knowing my record tracks in the kitchen?” He asks squinting. 

“Well... You did not poison yourself until now, so I guess i can trust you to choose some. And you use way more chilis than me, choose the ones you prefer and I’ll cook with them!” 

“How do you know I use more chilis than you?” He tilts his head. 

You give him an all-knowing lopsided grin. 

“First : that demonstration with the tuber 20 minutes ago, Second : I always catch you adding more cayenne pepper to your plate, and third: do you remember that lentil dish you cooked when I came to the apartment to help you with furniture? You did not bat an eye while I was sweating like a pig and crying my eyes out.” 

“You finished that dish.” He frowns. 

You grimace a bit. 

“I did not want to offend you...”  

He lower his shoulders, slightly defeated. 

“Why did you not say anything? I would have cooked something else lighter.” 

You raise your tip toes to kiss his cheek again. 

“It is in the past love. Now you will be able to add as much chili as you want to your plate.” 

He considers you but relinquishes and turns toward the chilis and spices stands with sparkling eyes despite his closed and stern expression. 

You smile at him and head toward the legumes section debating in your head if you should buy canned or fresh ones. You’ll take lentils for Thrawn if you only you could remember the variety he cooked that evening...Oh! You also need to pick some cheese, you noted how he devoured the cheese cubes during your movie night. 

You should ask your mother if there is any lentil recipe with chilis from your homeworld you could cook. 

You wince. She will just berate you and demand why you do not already know that at your age... You are fully focused on your peas when you feel a body press itself against your back, looming over you. 

“Hi, hot stuff. You are a cute one you know?” 

You cringe internally before turning towards the voice. As you expected around here, this isn’t just a frotteur but one of the gang members. 

“You could make some good money with a face like yours.” He keeps going. 

“Not interested.” You respond sharply, flicking his hand off your shoulder. 

There are a lot of touts in the area selling dreams to desperate people to lock them in their clubs and brothels. You saw a lot of young men and women following those kinds of pimps with hope in their eyes that it will allow them to make some quick bucks and escape the lower floors. 

Those fuckers even hunt among teens, barely 15 yet. 

You reach for a bag of fresh Corellian peas when you see two other shadows drawing themself over you. You let out a snarl, the pimp got companies. 

“Oh come on, a fresh fit body like you could make so much cash! If you follow us, we will show you how!” 

You don’t have your rifle with you, obviously, but you received Imperial training. Getting rid of three hoods shouldn’t be that difficult. 

As long as they remain only three... 

Your eyes lower to their blades and bats hanging at their hips. If you could snatch one up... 

“Thank you for this very generous offer, dear sirs. Alas, I must pursue my travel, for I am awaited you see?” You respond with an apathetic smile. 

They let out a chuckle. 

“Even better. Clients adore it when the girls have some personality. Keep your humor and you’ll be one of the most popular of the entire establishment.” One of them says, leaning forward, trapping you between him and the stall. 

Disgusting. 

But that is what you wanted. 

“Oh really?” You smile and let the click of the blade resonate as you press it at his throat. “I will still ask you to back down gentle sir.” 

He palps his hip only to realize you took his vibroblade. His nostril flares as anger lights up in his pupils. 

“You... sneaky little bitch!” He takes a step back, letting the rest of the group realize he got divested of his weapon. 

“Is that how you talk to a possible business partner?” You taunt. 

You catch the shadow of a movement on your left and have just the time to parry with the blade. The fourth pimps take a step back as his first assault failed. 

“You are not allowed to carry weapons inside, girly.” He indicates, his own baled raised in a practiced and obviously experienced manner. 

“I merely borrowed it from your colleague who got too close.” 

“I... sorry boss.” He pathetically aplogizes. 

The blade holder gaze’s slides toward his younger colleague with a sigh. 

“Drop that blade.” He orders. 

“Drop yours first.” You retort raising the knife. 

“It doesn’t work that way, cutie.” He takes a step forward cautiously. 

You are about to say something back when a hand grips your shoulder forcefully. Without even thinking, you grab the arm and throw your leg backward, making the assailant’s body roll over your shoulder and fall to the ground with a grunt of pain. 

Like in training! 

You just have the time to raise your gaze the gangster from whom you stole the blade throws himself at you. You spin to gather momentum and kick him in the plexus, completely forgetting you now have mechanical legs, and send him fleeing in the stand, broking it to pieces in the process. 

Uh oh… You think you felt his plexus break under your hit… 

You hear gasps and hurried steps as the passersby hurry away from the scene before that debacle. 

You’re back down to three assailants, but now they are fully pissed off ! They carefully place themself around you, staring at you stonily. One of them throws themself at you in a classic two-waves attack. You spin the blade in your hand and hit the side of their skull with the end of the vibroblade. They stagger to the side, clearly confused and in pain. 

You turn to see the two last ones when you receive a prodigious punch in the face, throwing you to the ground. You groan painfully, and cough hard, feeling something warm and liquid rolling on your skin where the pimp hit you. 

You touch it in disbelief, to discover your blood, dripping to the floor. 

This warm, liquidy sensation on your skin… 

You gag, flashbacks teleporting you back in the dark cave, strapped down that dirty mattress, and the bite of the saw in your tender flesh… 

You are in shock, unable to detach your gaze from the red liquid nor stop your shivering. You lose all awareness of your surroundings and completely forget about the assault, stuck in the cave. 

You do nit even hear the pimp talking to you. 

You shudder when a sudden gunshot rings in the market and a body falls near you. You turn your gaze towards the sound to discover Thrawn, gun aimed in your direction with a cold expression, his eyebrows frowned in displeasure. 

‘’Stop.’’ He sternly orders, ‘’This is enough.’’ 

“Wha-Who the FUCK let you enter with a gun?!” The leader demands. 

Thrawn immediately aims at him, his glare full of warnings and threat. 

“Your own colleagues. I am here to collect this young lady right here.” He announces, advancing in the aisles like in conquered territories, “As for you, hands high up in the air where I can see them.” 

You do not see what the leader decided to do, whatever it was Thrawn judged it worthy to be shot at. You shiver with the gunshot and the sound of the body hitting the floor. 

Did... Did he just... 

He turns to the last one that decides to lie down, his hands on his head. Thrawn closes the gap and collects all the weapons, cuffing the last pimp before rising to the sea of curious and worried customers. He raises his Grand Admiral insignia for all to see. 

“I am a Grand Admiral of the Empire, citizens. Everything is under control and if someone could be urbane enough to notify the police about this gang so they can collect them, it would be greatly appreciated.”  

One of the vendor behind the stall nods and heads to a stationary phone immediately. 

Thrawn turns to you and put a knee to the ground to comfort you. 

“Everything is okay, Ch’acah. Can you stand?” 

You nod weakly, still a bit shocked as he helps you stand up. 

“Are they...?”  

“Unconscious. My gun is adjusted on stun mod when I am on leave.” 

“Oh... okay.” You respond not knowing if that is comforting or not. 

“You are bleeding, my beloved.” He murmurs, caressing a strand of hair behind your ear tenderly, “Come with me, they must have a pharmacy somewhere.” He lowers to grab all the bags that he passes on one shoulders and supports you with his arms. 

While the police is being called he hands his debit card to the seller who’s stall you destroyed. 

“For the damages.” He simply says before their shocked expression. 

They take the cards like they saw a ghost and slides it down the machine before getting it back. 

Thrawn keeps his gun ostensibly visible and helps you walk through the aisle. 

“We will dress your wounds and head home.” He orders. 

You are in no state to retort anything and obediently follows. 

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

You poke the large compress now adorning your temple and wince as a wave of pain spreads. 

Thrawn is in the bathroom scrubbing your top. 

“The blood comes off, do not worry.” He announces with a gentle tone like losing this shirt was your first worry right now. 

But it is not... 

No 

You cannot forget the blood... 

You still feel it trickle down your cheek and thighs, the bite of the saw... 

You shiver, curling over yourself, your heart right behind your lips. 

By all account you are still trapped deep down that cave, cuffed to that bed. 

Unable to escape. 

Satlove still has you between his hands, slowly suffocating you. 

You jolt when a hand touches your shoulder all of a sudden. 

“Ch’acah? You did not speake a word. Is everything all right?” 

But you are bound to see blood again, you are an Imperial officer. Blood is part of work. 

You cannot allow yourself to freeze in shock while lives depend on you! You have cadet under your protection, you cannot allow your weakness to put them all in danger! 

This is not what Thrawn would do! He would do whatever is necessary to protect his crew!  

You deeply inhale, bracing yourself. 

“Thrawn,” You start ready to negotiate, “I accept to go to therapy, but only at one condition.” 

@bluechiss @justanothersadperson93 @thrawnspetgoose @twilekchiss @dance-like-russia-isnt-watching @obbicrystaleo @empresskrennic @davesrightshoe @Holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni @princesslunamoon19 @Janjtje @helrose8 

[sparepartsthrowaway]

Hey Tumblr, have a Thrawn I done

[sparepartsthrowaway]

He's perfect there's so much to love about him I love this fic he deserves all the love and appreciation in this world 😩😩😩

ALSO LOOK AT HIS LIL HOP I love him your honour 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

Hi! I loved the cute fic you posted a few days ago 😌. I would love a fic with Thrawn x Reader where he's self conscious about his newfound "dad bod".

He has reunited with his love and they seem happy but reader hasn't said anything about his change in physique and he thinks they are just being overly polite not to offend him. He reckons they are probably secretly disappointed in his change of appearance.

In reality they genuinely don't mind and find him as handsome as ever ❤️.

Perhaps the reader is also self conscious and is a tad softer themselves but also thinks Thrawn is being polite 🙃.

(I know there's been a bit of "controversy" over thrawn being a lil thicker around the waste than usually portrayed but I genuinely don't mind. I think it gives a little extra personality and shows the hardship he probably had to deal with in Peridea....He was probably injured and couldn't keep up his fitness regimen 🥲)

If you have to come out with only one thing from this blog, it's that I love chubby older Thrawn SO MUCH!!!!!! He can do things to me, whatever you want glorious King 👑

Thrawn x GN!reader

Tags: Thrawn is self-conscious, he is chubby and old and adorable, fluffy fluff, nsfw implied at the end

Thrawn winces a bit as he sits down the bed, his old spine wound acting up each time he extends his spine. 

“Are you all right, Ch’acah?” You immediately ask, already seated. 

He raises his hand to say it is nothing. He is used to pain, those tentacles broke his spine and fissured several bones, forcing him into a wheelchair for years. He had to abandon his strict training and that did stuff to his psyche. 

And his body too... 

Thrawn is not a man to worry about something as insignificant as physical appearance! As long as his physical health was good and he could follow his hard training daily he could not be bothered by something so trivial. 

Until you started dating. He never doubted himself but sometimes caught himself wondering how you would react if he changed something in his appearance... Would you like it if he started wearing a side bang? He never did it, but those new questions disturbed him a tad. 

Was he becoming self-conscious about himself? He who always saw himself as a tool and kept a strict hygienic appearance started to worry about personal style? Ridiculous. But sometimes the questions floated in his mind. 

When you caught him looking a second too long in the mirror you were always quick to throw yourself at him with a laugh and hug his muscular frame hard, nudging your nose in his shoulder blades with pleasure, repeating that you loved him just as he was! 

But he is no more what he was! 

Gone are his athletic body and hard muscles that he cultivated religiously in the gym of the Chimaera. Now he is... softer. 

For long he did not mind it, it was the price to pay for the wounds he received, and imagined he would resume his usual training once he got out of the wheelchair. But he remained in the wheelchair for years and was not becoming younger with each passing day. 

He witnessed his stomach getting layers and layers each passing year and slowly realized he would never go back to the athletic man he once was. 

Those times were gone and behind him! 

Now he is 10 years older and several pounds softer.  

And you did not make one comment. 

You used to praise him daily on his physics and while he did not let it go to his head, he discovered the pleasures to be praised and physically desired by a lover. And he missed that during those 10 years. 

He definitely softened up, in more ways than one he mentally sighs. 

“Remnant of an old wound.” He simply says, “Nothing to get worried about.” 

“Are you sure?” You insist gently 

He turns his gaze to you, to your dearly missed face... 

He held up for ten years only thinking about you... To restore the Empire and save the Ascendancy, of course! But if he is honest with himself he did not dream of victory or medals when night came, no, he dreamed of your arms around him, hugging him hard as you always used to. 

But here you are, at last. 

You crossed an entire galaxy just for him and succeeded! You found him! And now, after long hours discussing with the great Mothers and Elsbeth, he finally managed to join you in your attributed chamber. 

You should remain low-key and not publicly display your relationship but he was weary of waiting to meet you. Unfortunately, it is already 4 am and you should both get some sleep, he just wanted to feel your embrace once more. 

Just once, before playing the bossy Grand Admiral once again. 

Just a tender touch to help him keep going... 

“I am, Ch’acah. Everything is all right.” He gently circles your shoulders to pull against himself, letting him smell your hair like he missed to. 

You both remain snuggled against the other in silence, just... appreciating the moment together. 

“Can I reveal you a cheezy secret?” You suddenly mumble quietly. 

“Of course, Ch’eo Ch’acah. You know you can tell me anything.” 

You take out your personal imager from your pocket and display an image of you both, 15 years younger, embracing each other at the top of a mountain you climbed together during a leave. A secret trip just the two of you and Mother Nature, walking in the luxurious forests, bathing naked in the lakes of pure waters, eating the fruits you could find on your way. A leave he remembers fondly.  

“When I got too desperate or discouraged at time, I would just fix those pictures of us, happy together. It helped me to keep going no matter what.” 

He feels a bit jealous. To preserve the secret of your relationship he kept no movies and no pictures of you anywhere on the Chimaera and spent the next ten years relying on his memories to see you again. 

At least you could still see him. 

You switch pictures and he discovers himself on his workbench lifting weights easily, his shirt put to the side as he was sweating, exposing his entire toned chest and stomach. 

“I love this one.” You say dreamily, letting your head rest on his shoulder. 

He feels a tight knot in his stomach twisting slightly at those words. You remembered him all this time at the top of his game, at the peak of his physical health, and now... 

Are you... disapointed? 

You deeply sigh, hypnotized by the picture shining in the dark bedroom of the Stone Citadel. Thrawn starts to taste a bitter taste in his mouth, but he refuses to word it. 

“It is a good picture, you always had a talent for photography.” He gently chooses to respond instead. 

You chuckle. 

“My pictures are only good because of the fantastic mode in each of them! That’s where the magic happens!” 

Thrawn sightly gulps, a small uneasy sensation spreading in his guts. 

“Well, I hope you will appreciate the current model just as much.” He concludes. 

You sniff and part from him, looking at him frowning. 

“Of course I do, what was that?” 

He slightly shrugs, like it meant nothing. 

“You are weird tonight, Thrawn.” You insist, detailing his face with your human gaze, “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing.” He responds. 

“You never comment on something just to small talk, you always mean something. What is it?” 

He remains mute. He cannot admit it, how foolish would he look? 

Worrying about his physical appearance after an exile of 10 years? How ridiculous, he has way bigger problems than that! 

“Thrawn...” 

He detaches himself from you, closing back on himself, mute like an oyster. 

“Is that... Because I let myself go?” You drop like a bomb, your voice trembling, “Are you disapointed I could not maintain my training after ten years?” 

He spins his head towards you in full surprise. Him? Disappointed in you? It did not even crosse his mind! He simply assumed you had your reasons and it was not his place to pry. 

And even though he loved how you looked ten years ago when you trained together, he kinda likes how you look right now... This little pouch around your stomach is quite adorable, it makes him want to hug you tight! 

He blinks at you, taken aback by your revelation. 

“Ch’acah... No. No, of course not. You look wonderful like that. I do not know why you-” 

“You were more intimate before.” You pout, looking away, “You always loved to hug and kiss me behind closed doors, but... You barely touched me since you entered my room.” You avert your gaze full of pain from him; 

Without thinking, he grabs your two shoulders and pushes you against the mattress, looming over you. You look at him, mute and surprised by this sudden move. 

“Ch’acah... I cannot even start to tell you how much I love you and how I do not care about your new pounds. I love you with and without them, you are my Ch’acah, the person I choose to complete my heart, and nothing as insignificant as fluctuating weight could ever change that!” He lets you know, incredibly seriously, with the same face he has when he commands the bridge. 

“O...Okay...” You gulp, intimidated by his ultra-serious tone. 

“I love your body like that because it is yours and yours only... No other body, whatever they look like can set turmoils to my inner balance. Your body is a delight I cannot get my fill of.” 

“All right... All right, Thrawn... Thank you for clarifying.” You let him know with an intimidated tone. 

He gently cups your cheek and lowers himself to finally capture your lips after ten years... 

What bliss to have you in his arms at last, he will repeat to you how much he loves you each day until his death, for you to know it for sure! 

He gasps as he suddenly feels your arms around his neck and your legs around his hips, imprisoning him in your embrace. 

“There! Captured!” You bite his ear playfully, “Now what was that all about?” 

He... He cannot believe it! You actually got him! He played right into your hand without realizing it! 

He lets out a chukle. 

“Clever.” He admits. 

You smile, satisfied with yourself. 

“I always was clever, you loved me for that! Now up to it! What’s on your mind Grand Admiral Thrawn.” You murmur his rank into his ear like a seducing demon who came to tempt and damn him to hell. 

He reluctantly left out a sigh. 

“I was simply worried you disliked my new body.” He lets you know. 

How shameful! He should be above all that! But the thought of not being to your taste anymore was insupportable to him. 

“Oh, Thrawn...” You hug him tighter, “I love you whatever body you have! You are my handsome Grand Admiral, my beautiful Chiss, my enthralling husband. I love you in whatever shape you come in!” You comfort him 

“I was simply... worried. Thinking you might dislike my softer, older body is so displeasing.” He admits. 

“I love your softer stomach, I want to kiss it so badly! It is more of you for me to love until the end of my life!” 

“I am not yet used to this physical form.” He reveals. 

You growl a laugh and nibble his ear, licking the shell like a succubus. 

“I can teach you to love it, right now, in the sheets. What do you think, Ch’acah...?”  

@bluechiss @justanothersadperson93 @thrawnspetgoose @Thrawnalani @twilekchiss @dance-like-russia-isnt-watching @obbicrystaleo @elise2174 @davesrightshoe @Holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni @princesslunamoon19 @Janjtje @helrose8