obi-wan and anakin’s dynamic in attack of the clones is so incredibly believable for a 19 year old boy and his mentor who have spent the past 10 years together almost constantly. anakin is chafing under the authority and pushing boundaries because he’s a teenage boy and because he’s anakin and he desperately wants to prove himself to everyone, obi-wan included, and obi-wan is a safe person to rebel against because he’s anakin’s master and he’s always there. obi-wan is trying to assert that continuing authority because anakin is still in his care but he won’t be soon, and obi-wan is worried about him and worried about whether he’s been a good enough teacher. they love each other so much they have absolutely no choice but to fight about it.
I loooove ATLA and TBB and you nailed Crosshair and Hunter! The outfits are awesome too! ✨🤩
I had the same thought with that crossover and started with Earthbender Wrecker and left the poor man in the drafts!
Now as I saw your beautiful crossover art I decided to at least give him a doodle finish, so thank you for inspiring me!! 🤩🫶
My beautiful people, do you know ATLA? In cases you're interested, have a Wrecker, who absolutely deserves to have the power of Earth!
And look at the beautiful art of OP!
Playing with a bit of a different style with this one!
A romantic moment from my fic "Counterplay," my very first foray into the JC fandom almost 10 years ago! And oh what fun it's been ever since! ❤️ But whether or not you've read or intend to read the fic, I hope this piece of fanart captures your imagination! 🥰
The two stranded travelers sat around the fire for midday meal, more fish. Cody was getting tired of dried fish, really tired of it. Obi-wan smiled at him after cleaning his plate of every last morsel. The Jedi seemed to like the fish. Perhaps he didn’t eat fish very often on city planet like Coruscant. It sounded like a terrifying place to Cody, all those beings crammed into tight spaces and nothing natural at all, certainly no oceans. Maybe that was why Obi-wan seemed to embrace this experience of isolation in the wilderness.
Cody returned the smile as he polished off the last of his meiloorun. He felt a bit of juice trailing down his cheek and he quickly wiped it. Cody had given up on trying to dislike Obi-wan. He was kind and personable, and he didn’t press for information. By now Obi-wan knew more than the standard story his brothers told everyone. Saying you had 10 brothers with tons of cousins and were a part-time fisherman was all standard lies for the Fett brothers. A merperson was taught never to fully commit to a persona. A legged fisherman would know things they didn’t, no matter how much they studied the craft they couldn’t do it full time. They blended by never claiming expertise in anything a land dweller would know, but Obi-wan knew so much more about him than the fake story. Of course, some of it was lies, but that was mostly setting changes. Switching out stories about getting lost in kelp forests for wooded forests and things of that nature. Over the years he had many childhood stories he’d altered. They called them land stories. Hardcase called it “landifying” the story and he enjoyed shaping their stories into ones suitable for legged beings’ ears. The trouble was Cody was running out of land stories and he wasn’t as good at landifyng them on the fly as Hardcase.
Obi-wan carried his empty plate over to the wash basin without using the spear for support. Cody watched as he scrubbed at it. The Jedi was determined to do things for himself and his leg was better now. It had heal faster than normal with the aid of the Force. The damn thing really should have been stitched up but Cody had tried stitching up a wound once before and some how caused a worse infection. Kix and Helix made him promise to never try that again.
Obi-wan had taken this in stride and other than the occational wince from the pain he didn’t complain. He had taken care to not reinjure the leg, keeping away from the water. He had only just began venturing into the woods where the terrain was hilly and uneven.
Cody had learned things about the Jedi too, maybe more than Obi-wan had wanted to reveal. He got the sense that story about the Sith planet was one Obi-wan regretted telling. He sensed that mission had left its mark on the Jedi. Cody could not imagine being forced to use the Bogan, to have no control and start hallucinating and fighting imaginary foes. He also understood the fear that evil was not always a choice. It was so much easier to believe someone had committed terrible atrocities of their own accord. That it was their fault. Cody didn’t want to sympathize with his enemies, certainly not the monster hunters, like Krell.
The Jedi seemed to enjoyed listening to Cody’s stories as much as he liked telling his own. Up until now, Cody had enough adventures on land and land stories to share, but today Obi-wan washed the dishes listening only to the ocean waves and bird song. Cody could think of no new stories to tell. The most daring stories were ones where he’d outsmarted or outmanuvered Krell and he couldn’t landify those.
Obi-wan had not commented on Cody’s occasional slip of the tongue when he used the word Ashla, and Cody was gratefulf for that small acceptance. The Jedi had not appeared to find it unusual. The mer word for the Force had found its way into Kaminoan culture here and there, but it was still not commonly used. Cody needed to be careful.
Obi-wan placed the last plate out on the flat rock to dry. Then he bent down and dragged his knuckles around the bandages to scratch at it. Cody had given up reprimanding him for this, and truth be told he was probably not doing it any harm with this gentle approach. Unlike many of his impatient brothers who defied Kix’s orders regularly, Obi-wan took care to not make his injury any worse.
“I’ll collect more firewood,” Cody said automatically. He pushed to his feet. “There is no need for you to exert yourself.”
The spear suddenly leapt from its spot near the fire pit into Obi-wan’s waiting hand. Cody flinched and he could tell by the smile on Obi-wan’s face that he had noticed. He nodded his head in the direction of the woodpile. Cody cursed himself silently upon seeing the dwindling pile had been reduced to two logs and some bark. There was clearly not enough wood left for a fire tonight and Obi-wan looked ready and willing to help him gather it. There was just one problem with that, a big one.
“We can go together,” Obi-wan said. “I’m well enough to help and I’m curious where you get such a stock of perfectly cut logs.”
Cody shook his head. “And I was just thinking you were doing a good job of resting and taking care of yourself.”
“I’d like to think so.” Obi-wan smiled that damn smile of his, so warm and kind, and extremely disarming. “but I can’t sit still forever.”
“A few of days is hardly forever,” Cody retorted with a smirk on his face. “I’m beginning to wonder if your Padawan learned restlessness from watching you.” He’d rather Obi-wan not discover that the storage crate he mentioned was actually many crates, housed inside a large cellar of a long demolished building. The firewood was also there. He wasn’t sure he could sufficiently explain it. Fishermen did indeed have a network of crates stored on various islands, but that was usually one or two crates buried in the sand. Only the most desperate folks came to this string of islands, because there were rumors intentionally spread about them being cursed. Today there was no one here, but when a merperson was sick and not recovering at depth, they came to the islands. Families with young children who struggled to shift sometimes came here too. Not everyone adapted well the depth of the City. They needed places like this and they needed them to stay secret.
“I’m more than capable of helping,” Obi-wan said and with that the crate Cody had been using to haul firewood rose a few feet in the air and hovered beside Obi-wan.
Cody’s eyes widened. “I’m starting to see there is no arguing with you when you’ve made your mind up.”
I haven't been posting the chapters here because I can't get the links to actually work. It exists on AO3. I guess, copy and paste the link if your interested.
#we dont use honorifics in my first language so whenever i have to select options (usually for flights) im always so confused#like what is actually the difference between miss and ms#i like miss bc it sounds more historical and im a historian so
"Miss" means an unmarried woman. "Mrs." means a married woman. (both of these have origins in the word "mistress" as in "mistress of the house".)
"Ms." - prounounced MIZ, btw - is a third option popularized by gloria steinem in the 70s - mainly through her feminist magazine Ms. - which is meant to be a neutral term, usable for any and all women regardless of marital status (hence the soul destroying irony of the tags above). it gained wider general acceptance when geraldine ferraro, the first woman to be nominated as VP on a national major party ticket, started using it widely to avoid confusion, since she was married but used her maiden name professionally. eventually over the years it came into common use though i do think the brits are a little more critical of it than americans (as far as i'm aware lol)
"obscure facts only a tumblr user would know" and it's one of the most influential institutions of second wave american feminism. PLEASE open the schools
Hi. I'm an unmarried woman in her forties. I use Ms. and pronounce it "miz", though I don't correct people who accidentally use a soft S. I use Ms. because it's no one's business but my own whether I'm married, to a man or anyone else, and that's what Ms. means. It means fuck off, my marital status is irrelevant, just as it is for every man who uses Mr.
I've had people (usually children) ask me at work if I'm a missus or a miss. I have replied that I am a miz, full stop. And when they pressed for which one I was REALLY, I have replied, "Why? Are you going to treat me differently depending on whether there's a ring somewhere?"
That's what Ms. is for. That is its linguistic function. It says, "This is an adult woman," and nothing else. Nothing else is necessary, and in my case, nothing else is desired.
I also use miz for other women unless and until they express a preference for something else because I don't magically know everyone else's marital status when I meet them. That's a courtesy—I'm declining to assume marital status and allowing them to decide whether they wish to declare it.
Also, I've taught English and worked as an editor for twenty years. I am quite literally the grammar police. This use of Ms. is a standard construction. If you didn't learn it in school, someone failed you.
#in the episode of Daria where there’s a rumor that her and tom had sex#upchuck knowingly refers to her as the lovely MIZ Morgendorffer#this was the end of season five meaning this would’ve been fairly common knowledge in 2001