a little comic i did for @pencildragons !
stuff under cut
^^^ without text, lineart, and sketches
basically obi wan left and went back to melidaan after the clone wars ended to essentially retire and cody and some of the 212th need to lay low for a while so they go and track down their former general. And they find him hands deep in dirt farming of all things, and theres this whole thing between cody and obi wan about how they fell out of the closeness they had when they were in war(theres a moon lit conversation that is in my head and not on paper I HAD IDEAS) and they miss each other, they really do, but they don't know how to function together without the war on their backs.
Now obi wan isn't only a farmer no no hes a busy boi, he also helps out at the local clinic/hospital because him having the force means it's easier to understand how people feel which means it's easier to diagnose the patients. So one day he's working and idk his neigbor or something knocks on his door, and the troopers that where living with obi wan are all like whos that, so cody goes and opens the door and it's just someone obi wan knows coming to ask him for some help, and that person is like who are you? so cody says he's a good friend of obi wan's and is visiting him, and that obi wan is at the clinic right now. The neighbor guy is like ok and goes to find obi wan.
And when the guy finds obi wan they go "obi wan i didn't know your boyfriend and his family is visiting" obi wan internally is going " boyfriend????" and obi wan goes along with it because it's a good cover for the clones. and when he gets back to his house he announces himself with "my dear im home" and he and cody bond via pretending to be a couple because it reminds them of having a mission. And with the whole fake couple thing they learn to be domestic with each other, and function together outside of a war setting.
Until the group of clones don't have to lay low anymore and they can go back to corusant. and both cody and obi wan are like, i should tell him i love him for real and they do and they live happily ever after :)
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rewatching selfishness vs selflessness for the 100th time in a row and there’s this one detail that i always notice. it hurts like a bitch every time i see it too.
in the scene where janus is questioning logan, he obviously takes advantage of the fact that logan had been forgotten by thomas and the rest of the sides when they all entered the courtroom scenario in the first place. logan was (rightfully and obviously) shocked to notice that they were enacting the scenario without him, logic, the person who would undoubtedly be the most excited to do so and would have the most knowledge about courtroom procedures.
but there is the moment where he says that there’s “always room for him” and janus responds with, “i know, that’s what i said! but patton insisted we leave you alone” and that moment sticks with me whenever i watch this episode.
logan immediately turns to look at patton with a surprised, hurt look on his face because he can’t believe that patton would say something like that about him. it’s true that him and patton don’t usually see eye to eye on things, but patton does value his input and they resolved most of their issues during the earlier stages of the sanders sides videos (although not completely).
i find that interesting because whenever janus targets logan, he always makes it a point to draw attention to the fact that logan isn’t very well liked, mostly because he embodies logic and claims not to feel anything, unlike the rest of the sides (who as thomas once put it, are too zany or relatable). he even calls out logan for this during the events of svs.
his “oh, of course you don’t” is dripping with sarcasm and janus is the lord of the lies, he would know when someone is lying. keeping that aside, it was obvious that a few minutes ago, janus’ lie about patton disregarding logan’s usefulness during the courtroom scenario hurt logan, so much so that it was visible on his face. roman’s comment of “did you see the look on his face?” was a nod to that.
so logan, in saying that he doesn’t feel anything, is lying about his own feelings.
additionally, it’s not the first time janus has used patton specifically to counteract logan and lie to him. the whole episode of “can LYING be good?” featured janus, disguised as patton, playing to logan’s likings via patton’s charm. it was evident from the first minute that logan appeared onscreen.
after that, he simply had patton reference famous philosophers, and logan clearly admired that because he seemed to be quite happy about it, even though virgil immediately became suspicious.
janus picked up on the fact that logan didn’t believe that patton would ever try to hurt him on purpose, and at least patton wouldn’t exclude him from things. that patton would listen to him. which makes it all the more sad that in svs redux, when logan said that philosophers would not agree with patton (after patton asked for his input), patton took the easy way out and pulled logan out of the situation.
it’s also why logan ignored patton when he tried to offer comfort after logan reappeared and said “i’m just here to deliver one last fact, then i will do you all a favour and spare you my company.” in fact, he ended up yelling over patton so he could get his point across and actually be heard.
i love logan and patton’s duo, and i really hope they resolve this during logan’s arc. in the meantime, sending love to our logical boy because he needs it.
(an unofficial part two to this post is now up, delving a little more into logan and patton’s relationship. i’ve hyperfixated on the glasses gays at this point /hj)
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Draw Me Like One of Your Dwarf Girls, Eddie
Pairing: Eddie Munson x You
Summary: Eddie decides to work on his drawing skills, and accidentally awakens a monster in the process.
Contains: Titanic references, female nudity, a brush with death.
Word Count: 1.3k-ish
"Draw me like one of your dwarf girls, Eddie," you say in a sultry voice, trying your hardest not to laugh.
"What did I tell you about talking?" He pauses to give you a pointed look, since he's already told you to pipe down several times. You roll your eyes, and he returns to his drawing with a renewed vigor.
It's early 1998, and you've recently dragged your poor Eddie to a theater to see that damn Titanic movie everybody and their mother keeps raging about. All 3 hours of it. You may have neglected to mention the runtime when you bought the tickets. You owe him.
He survived, but was suddenly faced with the desire to "work on his people-sketching skills." Which of course meant it took him less than a week to convince you to strip and pose like Rose on the couch, wearing only that red guitar pick necklace he's had since high school.
You're stretched out and exposed and already bored. Two hours ago, he'd adjusted your hand a quarter of an inch this way, your knee a quarter of an inch that way, and you'd been instructed not to move.
Well, it felt like two hours, but it was really only about 30 minutes.
With nothing else to do, and being mildly disappointed that he didn't find your commentary amusing, you watch his eyes follow the pencil scratching across the paper you can't see. He's cute when he's concentrating. Tongue poking out, brow furrowed, that spark of creativity in his eye. It must be going well, because he smiles occasionally. He even giggled once. If you had to guess, you'd say it probably had something to do with a nipple. It was a little chilly.
"Just as I thought; it's a masterpiece."
"Are you done?" You'd only been in this position for an eternity.
"Oh yeah, this baby's getting framed." Ignoring you, he holds his sketch pad out to view it at an arm's length, beaming at his creation.
"Can I move now?!"
"Yeah, you can move."
You stretch your stiff limbs and get up off the couch, reaching for the flannel he'd discarded on a chair nearby, buttoning a few buttons as you pad over to where he sat admiring his work.
You place a hand on his back and look over his shoulder at the figure on his sketchbook. You're confused, but you can't take your eyes off of it. You can't think of anything to say. Until…
"What. The FUCK. Is THAT."
He looks up innocently and says, "What? I was just following instructions. You kept talking, figured I better listen."
You have no words.
You do, however, have a fucking BEARD in Eddie's drawing.
He sits there, looking up at you with a proud grin on his face, waiting for you to react.
You stare at him wordlessly, still in a state of shock.
Until he laughs at you. LAUGHS AT YOU.
Your brain begins to swirl furiously, until it flashes one word: KILL.
You clench your fists, and he begins to sense that you're not going to start laughing with him. His eyes widen, and he jumps out of his chair, vaults over the coffee table, and stands on the couch.
"I can explain," he says quickly, trying to sound calm, steps unsteady on the cushions.
You can explain too. Explain to the responding officers how one Edward James Munson met his gruesome demise.
"It's Tolkien."
You ignore him and advance slowly, like a predator stalking its prey. Eyes unblinking. Blood boiling. Steam probably coming out of your ears. He jumps off the couch as you approach the coffee table.
"It's from a book!" He's walking backward, holding out his sketch pad like a lion tamer with a chair.
His eyes bulge as he hits something solid. You've backed him into a corner. Literally.
"Tolkien! Middle-earth! The Hobbit! Nerd shit!"
Nerd shit won't save you now, Munson. You narrow your eyes and prepare to go in for the kill. He panics.
"Dwarf women have beards! It was a joke! I'm sorry! I love you!"
The "I love you" makes you pause, just as you were about to pounce and slash your prey to pieces. The hell?
"What?" you ask, giving your head a slight shake in confusion.
"Dwarf women have beards. In the books. You said to draw you like a dwarf. It was a joke. I thought you'd know what it was."
"You thought I'd know some random detail from a book I haven't read in over a decade?"
"I mean, it's a pretty memorable detail…"
You roll your eyes, heave a sigh, and pinch the bridge of your nose. Why is this not surprising?
"So you're not gonna kill me?" He's still backed into his corner. You consider it for a moment, deciding that you've played with him enough for today.
"Not tonight, Munson."
He exhales and leans his head back against the wall.
"But I WILL get you for this," you threaten, pointing a finger at him. He nods, used to this constant back-and-forth game you'd both been playing for over a decade. He knew you'd never really hurt him, just like you knew he wouldn't hurt you either. It was just a game.
You turn to walk away, and hear him whisper to the abomination he's still clutching: "Don't worry baby, you're still gettin' framed."
You whip around, eyes flashing. He gulps. You step closer, making him lean further back into the wall. He's cute when he's scared.
"Give it."
He stares at you with those big, beautiful brown eyes of his.
"Give it," you repeat, holding out a hand and waiting for him to place his sketchbook into it.
Reluctantly, he hands it to you. You maintain eye contact as your fingers find the thick cover page, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of looking at his ungodly creation again. You slam it shut and he flinches.
"What are you gonna do with it?"
Beat your nerdy ass to death with it.
Still clutching his sketch pad, you step back silently and gesture for him to walk on by with your free hand. He slowly peels himself off the wall and begins to move with an apprehensive look in your direction, and a thought occurs to you.
As he scurries past you, you smack him on the ass with his sketchbook. He whirls around with a yelp, hands clutching his cheeks. It's cardboard, you drama queen. You step closer and swing the book at his arm.
"You made me lay there for AN HOUR! While! You! Drew! That!" You punctuate each word with another smack of the sketch pad. He continues overreacting to each hit and falls to the floor with a wail when you finish yelling, clutching his imaginary wounds. You lift the book above your head with both hands, ready to finish him.
"It started out real! But I couldn't make it look like you! It wasn't pretty enough!" You graciously decide to let him continue, still holding the sketchbook in an attack position, just in case. "I tried," he explains calmly now, "but it wasn't working out, and then you said the dwarf thing, and I thought it would be funny. I'll make it up to you."
"Damn right, you will." You lower the book and release it. It lands on his chest with a light thud. He grins from his position on the floor. You step over him and make your way toward the bedroom.
"Starting now," you inform him from the hallway, not slowing or turning around. You hear him scramble to get up, knock something over, and curse before he hurries in your direction.
He's lucky he's cute.
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