#Cody is clever

[fazcinatingblog]

Adulting is when you can buy a loaf of bread with raisins and sultanas in it and cut off a bread roll-size hunk of it and have it for lunch and it's fine

[funny-critter-blog]

the doodles, dude

tabby! she exists!

I should draw sweetie and cody together more, they are adorable (I should draw cody more in general tbh)

he’s a lil’ scamp

terrifying, horrifying even

bigger is better from Sofia the First is so clever-core

what a silly lil guy

what’s he singing?

abrakadoodle is concerned (ft. @portalling101 and @doodledoesthing3)

…is that all of them?

wait, I found one more…

wonder what that means?

[poppyseed799]

Confession that will get me cancelled: I will sometimes reference super mario logan videos cuz I used to watch some. and they were honestly really funny if you ignored the problematic bits.

[mortalprinceoflies]

“What would you do if...”

Vig + Zac kissed

I’m sensing burnt lips for both boys, scorched skin and a lot of pain

What if | @runyou-clever-boy

“Oh, my lips would most assuredly burn, and I’d savor every second of it, but I’d never kiss him against his will. I’d prefer to make him want it, first. Wouldn’t be fun, otherwise. I’d rather know I’m desired than fruitlessly pursue someone who clearly doesn’t want me. Oh, and I would try my best not to let my inner fire blaze too hot; I have enough self control to do him that courtesy, though I will admit that I have no idea how I’d protect myself from his holy mouth. Perhaps the pleasure might be worth the pain.”

[whovian223]

New to Me - January 2024

New to Me #boardgames - January 2024 @thing12games @white_goblin @_dailymagic_ @BoardAndDice @Quinedgames @FarOffGames @Zmangames_ @Funforge @Helvetiq @pegasusspiele

It’s the first month of the year! And it’s also almost the end of February. Yes, it took so much energy to get my Top 50 games played of all time done, along with getting sick recently, that we’re into the last week of February and I still haven’t talked about the “new to me” games that I played in January! I know, right? With OrcaCon in January, I knew that this would be a long post. I did…

[frostbitebakery]

LOUD.

part one two three four five

Obi watches over him like a shadow the first few weeks he’s in the Temple.

Anakin will wake from a memory-nightmare and his protector will sit on the windowsill, bathed in the ever changing lights.

His warm hand will stroke over Anakin’s hair, soothing and more comforting than words could ever be.

He will offer Anakin to sit with him, watching Coruscant through the transparisteel. And Anakin will inevitably end up cuddled up to Obi’s front, falling asleep with Obi’s heartbeat under his ear, the breath in his lungs.

.

The identities of the Shadows are almost considered inviolable. Due to the nature of their chosen path, secrecy is a tenet they adhere to strictly.

The Council knows who they are, and maybe there are one or two Council members who are uncomfortable with how close to the Dark Shadows operate. But as a whole the necessity is understood.

The Jedi stand and fight for the Light, the balance, for bringing peace and help to those who need it. A calling like that inevitably brings enemies and the need to even the playing field.

“Beacon of Light,” Obi-Wan repeats, hands moving in disbelief.

And code names. It was only a matter of time before he got his codename.

“Fitting, we think it is,” Grandmaster Yoda says, amusement twinkling in his eyes and frog tea.

“Of course, Grandgrandmaster Yoda,” Obi-Wan signs, slipping in the extra grand flawlessly, which results in the sign turning grand to ancient. If Yoda gets cheeky with him, he can very well retribute.

Master Tholme coughs a laugh into the sleeve of his robe.

“Congratulations, Master Kenobi,” Master Windu says warmly and Obi-Wan ducks his head, loses the fight against the blush spreading across his nose. “Master Tholme has prepared a briefing package for you where you can access all relevant information. Like the code name for the Temple here on Coruscant.”

Master Tholme inclines his head in agreement, solemn twist to his lips Obi-Wan knows not to trust. “Old Folks’ Home.”

Obi-Wan wishes he wore the mask so he can wheeze in peace.

.

Jedi move different from the people Anakin has seen so far in his life. They flow, they’re carried by a breeze. Gravity doesn’t have a hold on them unless it suits them. They move like they’re one with nature, detached from sentient-made life and creations.

And then there are a few, like Obi, who move with the undercurrent, with the wind just above the ground. Who vanish with the shadows just to reappear around a corner.

They’re not stalking the enormous hallways or sneaking around like bandits.

Anakin doesn’t think they’re doing it consciously, reflecting attention away from themselves as if they aren’t even there.

Obi’s friend Quin moves like that, too, when he forgets himself, somehow managing to disappear while walking in the middle of the floor.

Quin is a strange one.

But Obi-Wan…

Anakin bites his lips to keep from giggling, hands gripping the banister tightly where he’s peeking. He doesn’t think they’ve noticed him yet.

The training salle they’re practicing in is huge, obstacles dotting the ground for them to leap over or off, hide and take the other off-guard.

It seems impossible, the way they fight and lure each other into traps. Obi is especially good at that. He’s directing Quin into exhaustion he can’t defend himself in anymore, and it’s amazing to watch.

Nothing and no one can beat Obi-Wan. He’s too clever for that.

“I will never stop calling you that, Beacon of Light,” Quin laughs when he jumps out of a roll and onto his feet.

Obi-Wan signs something, his back to Anakin which is aggravating.

He’d change position but both Jedi move around too much.

Quin shakes his head. “Shut up, you know it suits you.” He takes the lightsaber off his belt. “I bet you blushed like a meloroon in season.”

Obi changes into a blue glowing blur in answer.

.

Obi-Wan wants to know where he went wrong. What he did to— He thought the connection between him and Cody—

His vision is swimming, oxygen mask placed over his nose and mouth pumping more than air into his system.

His fingers weakly tap the message on the receiver of the comm device he broke off Cody’s suit during the fight. “Beacon. Light. Force.” Hope and the Force sing to him, even as his doing is detected.

Cody roughly rolls him onto his side, takes the device out of his hand where he had hidden it behind his back.

“The Emperor wants you alive, traitor.”

He’s removed his helmet. The one Obi-Wan had destroyed while it was still on Cody’s head. Just… Cody’s whole demeanor flipped to strange and other. He hadn’t made for his blaster during the fight. Shooting inside a rescue shuttle in the void of space at least still seemed like a bad idea even with Cody’s suit keeping him alive in a scenario like that.

But Obi-Wan couldn’t take that chance. So he’d smashed Cody’s face against a doorframe, breaking the visor and any choice Cody could make in killing Obi-Wan by sudden oxygen depletion.

Of course the fight took care to still break his lungs open, making him gasp for air even before Cody held him down and ripped the mask off.

Lying on his side is easier but the room has decided it is done with him and goes dark.

[invaderlynx]

Do you think Omega ever reminds Rex of himself? Two little blond tagalongs to a squad of older troopers? The age gap wasn’t so drastic between him and his brothers, but it sometimes felt that way, in the shadow of some of the best the command class had to offer. He’d learned quick though, as had she. He hopes she gets the life that all their brothers were never allowed to have. The life he never got.

I think he’d sometimes see his brothers in hers as well, though he’d try not to. Hunter and Cody, the steadfast leaders. Cody had found Rex, insisted he’d stay, protected him. He’d do anything for him and made sure Rex knew it too. Perhaps he sees a bit of Wolffe in Wrecker. Tough as nails, both of them look frightening, but are a lot softer than they seem once you get to know them. Not to mention the eye. Maybe he sees some Bly in Echo. Often the peacemaker, he also knew when to step back and let his brothers duke it out. His sense of duty was unmatched. In Tech, he’d see Ponds. People always assumed Ponds was the rational one for some odd reason. Sure, he had a good head on his shoulders, but more often than not he’d be leading the pack in whatever dumbassery they were attempting. He’d usually be the one bailing them out of it too. In Crosshair I think he’d see Fox. Blunt, sometimes harsh, and slow to trust, but clever and deeply loyal too—though that loyalty would be what Palpatine and the Empire would use to twist them into something almost unrecognizable.

[merlyn-bane]

Brought to you by ao3 being down during a slow night at work, please have the fade to black scene from chapter one of home (is where you build it), um, un-faded. Spice below the cut ;)

Obi-Wan isn’t quite certain how he ended up here.

“Ah—ah—!”

He’d managed to deliver the leftover pizza successfully, despite the debacle at the front door. The firefighters on shift had all seemed to be very grateful for the surprise of free food, despite the fact that it’d been cold and there certainly hadn’t been quite enough of it to go around. He’d been invited to come in for a bit, and watched several of the men appear to wrestle over the rights to the pizza—only to ultimately lose out to those smart enough to wait until they were distracted—while Cody and Bly introduced them by name. 

“Fuck,”

Cody’d asked him out for a drink after that, Obi-Wan remembers. Apparently he wasn’t actually scheduled to be on duty that night or something and was only there to help Bly out with—something, so he’d been free to leave. Quin had naturally been far too happy to hang out at home with the already-sleeping kids so Obi-Wan could socialize.

He certainly isn’t complaining now. 

Cody shifts between his legs, rocking up to press his mouth to the sensitive spot just under Obi-Wan’s ear once more just to listen to him gasp. He lets a bit more of his weight press down against Obi-Wan, pinning him between the solid heat of Cody’s body and the creaking leather of the front bench seat of Cody’s truck. Obi-Wan grips at Cody’s shoulders, scrambling to hold on when the other man rocks forward.

One of Cody’s hands finds its way up underneath Obi-Wan’s shirt and settles just above his hip, burning like a brand, and Cody lets out a low moan when Obi-Wan can’t help but arch up into it.

They’d gone to some—small bar, or brewery? Obi-Wan’s fuzzy on the details, now. He certainly can’t remember the name of the establishment, or even really what the beer he’d had had tasted like. All he remembers is Cody’s smile, and how easily the conversation had flowed once Obi-Wan managed to unstick his tongue from the roof of his mouth.

Cody’s fingers—thick, clever fingers—find the closure of Obi-Wan’s jeans, and that more or less constitutes the end of his musings on the subject.

The buttons and fly put up very little resistance, and then Cody’s pushing his pants and underwear down past his ass. Obi-Wan makes a questioning sound when he stops there rather than removing them entirely, and Cody huffs a little laugh before pushing himself up with one hand just enough to allow him to press a series of brief but heated kisses against his mouth. 

“I’m sorry, baby,” Cody pants in between kisses, “I don’t have any lube or condoms on me.” Obi-Wan whines a wordless complaint high in his throat—he believes him, Cody certainly does sound very disappointed and very contrite, but Obi-Wan would rather desperately like to be fucked—and earns another breathy chuckle from the devastatingly attractive man on top of him. “I wasn’t expecting a pretty thing like you to fall into my lap tonight. I know, I know. Trust me, I really wanna fuck you, too. I bet you feel so good, Obi, fuck.” Obi-Wan whines again at the words, at the low timbre of his voice, at everything, helpless not to. Cody shushes him softly, only for Obi-Wan to buck and gasp when warm calloused fingers wrap around his cock unexpectedly. “How about this, hmm? Can I stroke you off? I bet you look so pretty when you come.”

“Damn you,” Obi-Wan swears emphatically, boiling under his skin. He bats Cody’s hand away—immediately mourning the loss—and then goes right for the other man’s belt buckle. Cody stares at him, slack-jawed, only to hiss when Obi-Wan wraps his own fingers around Cody’s cock to pull it from his underwear.

Oh, holy fuck.

Obi-Wan forcibly shakes himself from the oncoming stupor before he spends the rest of the night simply staring at the other man’s gorgeous, thick cock, ignoring the way his hole clenches around nothing with how badly he wants it inside him. They’ve already established that they can’t tonight, and if Obi-Wan doesn’t at least get to come, he may actually expire.

He takes hold of one of Cody’s hands and then makes deliberate eye-contact as he licks a broad, wet stripe across his palm. Cody’s jaw all but falls open in his surprise and—if Obi-Wan’s reading how blown his pupils have become—arousal, and Obi-Wan holds that eye-contact as he thoroughly coats Cody’s hands with as much saliva as he can manage. Cody makes a wounded noise and Obi-Wan sucks one of his fingers into his mouth; a little mean, perhaps, but he can’t help it. Honest. 

Cody growls low in his throat and then pulls his hand away from Obi-Wan’s mouth, his breathing already ragged. Both of them let out broken sounds at the first brush of their cocks together, thrusting into it, and then Cody is pumping, and pumping, his grip firm and sure and warm and every other wonderful thing, slick with Obi-Wan’s own spit as he strokes them both off together.

“Hold your shirt up for me, baby,” Cody pants out, “I don’t wanna ruin it.”

Obi-Wan moans but somehow manages to find the brain power in between thrusting up into Cody’s hand and against his cock, fisting the bottom hem of his top and yanking it up clear past his collarbone. Cody groans as his nipples are exposed, pebbled already, and squeezes just a little tighter—

Obi-Wan gives it up with a ragged cry and Cody follows right behind him, ropes of their combined spend painting Obi-Wan’s stomach and chest.

“Shit,” Cody breathes out, and Obi-Wan can’t help but agree. 

[norraexploradora]

The Tragedy of the CX Troopers and the Missed Opportunity to Teach Us All an Important Lesson

A deeper look into how the CX-Troopers were handled in the Bad Batch and the narrative surrounding them that unfortunately got dropped in season 3

I want to start off by applauding the Bad Batch for the brave attempt to tackle dark topics throughout the series and presenting them in a way that is appropriate for families to watch and discuss with their children. Most of series is successful in being just dark enough to raise tension but to also keep things suitable for a child’s first glimpse into the harsh realities of life. However there still a few places that missed the mark.

The one I wish to cover today is the inconsistent narrative surrounding the CX-Troopers. I’m not here to say it was bad writing per se, but if a dark topic is discussed in a family oriented tv series, it is best to commit adequate time to truly flesh it out so the messaging is clear. Subjective is great in a mature series like Andor, but kids lack the life experience required to read between the lines.

And yes, exposition does make dialogue sound clunky at times, but there is a reason why most cartoons in the 80s had the kind of “The more you know” lesson after each episode. The Bad Batch was no different. Tech’s speech in the Crossing and his encouragement to Omega at the end of Retrieval are perfect examples of this.

In my opinion, there was an opportunity for an important lesson to be learned from the CX Troopers that was brought up but left unfinished. These shadow operatives could have been a way to show the viewer how anyone can be “brainwashed” either by force or by clever manipulation.

One operative in season 2 called himself a “Believer” which seems to evoke he was forcibly submerged into a cult-like indoctrination. It’s also why I prefer to use the phrase “coercive persuasion” or “forced persuasion” instead of brainwashing as they are a more accurate description of the process that has been historically implemented by governments, cults, and captors in order to make good people believe in or do horrible things.

Dr. Hemlock’s use of forced persuasion on select clones to turn them into CX-Troopers is a interesting look into the real world and well-documented cases of brainwashing within fascist regimes; especially in wartime settings. It is common and disturbing tactic implemented in moments of great despair and something that deserves more focus within the narrative if it is to be brought up as a major plot point.

Most of the brainwashing aspects in the Bad Batch were rapidly glossed over probably due to time and budget constraints, and not so much by the dark and disturbing imagery. One can easily get the “idea across” without showing it explicitly. (Like Crosshair having his hand chopped off. We didn’t see it but yeah, we get the gist).

I will say however, that despite the mystery surrounding brainwashing in the CX-Program, one of the more poignant moments was Captain Rex telling a caught CX Trooper that he was still their brother and that they would help him. It was a beautiful show of compassion and introduced new plot element; that the soldiers who undergo forced persuasion could possibly be reached or even saved.

It’s not a stretch to believe that the Bad Batch would take this route given the series had built up “we don’t leave our own behind” as one of the main themes. It would also be safe to say that saving fictional heroes from brainwashing gives us hope that real life survivors can recover from such trauma.

It was one of the many reasons fans were led to believe that the mysterious CX-2 operative could have been Tech or Cody. The focus on this particular shadow operative gave rise to speculation that he was different, that there was something coming to shed light or hope that a lost soldier could be found and rescued; something that would make sense of it were a character we already cared greatly about.

Alas, CX-2 was kept a mystery box that gave no insight to the tragic nature of his existence nor gave us a reason to mourn his death. That is why the battle between the Bad Batch and Hemlock’s Batch of secret operatives felt rushed and incomplete to some viewers. There wasn’t proper time for the story to breathe beyond “One Batch is good, the other Batch is bad.”

There were simply too many dropped narratives throughout the final season that reduced the whole CX Trooper plot to a video game-esque final boss battle. Don’t get me wrong, it was an amazing fight, beautifully animated, terrifying, and intense; but nevertheless, it felt hollow because the build-up went nowhere.

At that’s exactly where the narrative around the tragic nature of brainwashing got lost.

It’s important for you to know that I’m not saying the Bad Batch killing these operatives in the final fight was wrong. I’m also not saying that they should have tried to reach out to save these Shadow Operatives in the middle of of a life and death situation. It’s just unfortunate that we were never given a reason to feel anything other than relief that the CX-Troopers were killed.

And yes, this is a show about the Bad Batch and not brainwashed mystery troopers, but I stress, the writing set up these characters and introduced a very dark and disturbing concept to young viewers. With more time and effort spent on the narrative, it could have been an important lesson that applies to real life.

Coercive Persuasion is not a fantasy concept. It is very very real. Sleep deprivation, isolation, abuse, constant interrogation, drugging, shame, and humiliation, are all various means to break down a person’s will and forcibly persuade them into believing anything.

One can simply look to how many people get forced into false confessions by unethical police practices, or those who end up committing atrocities due to cult leader manipulation. A more common and less obvious example is social media outlets designed to spin conspiracy theories; coercing people into believing anything they want, like like the Earth is flat and microchips were put in Covid vaccines. By preying upon people’s anger and fear, these sites cultivate distrust and can lead one to extremist thinking.

This is real world, dark and scary stuff that needs to be handled with serious care and consideration of bringing it into an animated Star Wars series.

So given more time and budget, how could this lesson be shown through the story of the Bad Batch? How could these brainwashed operatives been presented in a way to that is scary but still gives younger audiences a way to sympathize with them?

Shedding more light on a terrifying process would remind us the CX-Troopers are victims and despite their terrifying nature, they still deserve our compassion and empathy. So giving the operatives more of a backstory is a good start.

For Example:

Showing the transformation of at least one of these operatives before the final battle would provide more emotional impact after their demise. Having kids clearly, and not subjectively, understand that under those cool costumes there used to be good men is such an important lesson. It reinforces the narrative that the real villains aren’t these soldiers but the regime that warped their minds and forced them into mindless monsters.

To be clear, this a a family series and I am in no way implying that a clear visual of lengthy torture would be acceptable. There are already hints through Crosshair’s PTSD and that is enough to get the idea across.

My suggestion would have been to place the sniper clone who eventually became CX-2 in the cell next to Crosshair while on Tantis. The viewer gradually sees these two men go back and forth to their cells after these conditioning sessions and the witness bond that forms between them. Crosshair is forced to see CX-2’s identity slip more and more away after each session until he is no longer the person he once was. The sadness and loss of seeing this man lose his identity not only leaves a mark on Crosshair, but by the viewer as well.

The scene of the shadow operative watching Crosshair on Tantiss and the one shadow operative calling him “brother” would have made more sense in retrospect. In addition, having an emotional and clear connection between Crosshair and the man who became CX-2, would have given their epic fight on top of the waterfall more emotional weight. CX-2’s line “You could have been one of us. You made the wrong choice” would be more resonant to the viewer. CX-2 would literally be a sniper shadow operative that Crosshair could have become verses a subjective mystery box.

To further this narrative and Crosshair’s character arc, making the above change to the story could have also opened the door to Crosshair eventually saving this lost brother. Omega’s determination to never give up on Crosshair could have resulted in Crosshair reaching out to CX-2 and eventually getting through to him before the final battle. It would have been so emotional and fulfilling.

And yet…as lovely as that would have been, I realize the above scenario would require at least one additional episode; which the animation team probably didn’t have the luxury or the budget to do. So I’ll offer another solution:

Adding a few minutes here and there during season 2 and the beginning of season 3 dedicated to Hemlock’s treatment to the CX-Troopers and other Clone prisoners would give the viewer a clearer picture into the nature of the CX Program. The result would be that the feeling of triumph wouldn’t be seeing the shadow operatives lying dead on the floor but knowing that the experimentation on the clones at Tantiss by Dr. Hemlock was finally over.

So in conclusion:

It’s a shame that the shadow operatives were left a mystery and simply became foils and metaphors. The fight at the end was nothing more than the Batch having to kill or be killed and it failed to showcase a serious topic with less black and white thinking.

With more time, the writers could have explored the tragedy of forced coercion. Discussing a difficult subject in a manner fit for young audiences could leave them with awareness when they are faced with a similar real world scenario.

The CX-Trooper plot could have also been a good way for a parent to discuss what coercive persuasion does to people; especially in today’s world where social media is rife with bad people luring in youth and manipulating their anger and fear into extremist thinking.

Think about it.

How does someone get so isolated that they fall prey to extremism and they end up committing acts of terrorism? How does one get indoctrinated into a cult and become so brainwashed that they take their own lives or the lives of others at the behest of a cult leader? How would an innocent person sign a confession of a crime they didn’t commit?

These are all good questions that people often ask after horrendous real life events and can regularly be seen on the daily news and social media. Having a fictional metaphor for scary real world issues that children could easily understand would be exactly the kind of thing Star Wars was created for. It was also created to give children and all of us hope.

So in the end, the lesson should have been that people who fall victim to brainwashing aren’t weak or gullible. They have been put through extreme duress and put through unethical means of isolation and manipulation.

And if there is hope for even one of the CX-Troopers to be saved, we as a society should have empathy and try to reach out to those in our own lives who have been a victim of coercive persuasion before writing them off.

Disclaimer:

One thing I’ve learned in life is that platforms like Twitter are not places for deep discussions and good faith arguments. You have a set number of letters to get your ideas across and interpreting the meaning or tone always leads to misunderstandings.

That is why I’m coming to to Tumblr to discuss my deep dives into season 3 of the Bad Batch. I am the type of person who doesn’t like angry, confrontational sparring over ideas.

My goal is to shed light on a different perspective; not to make anyone agree with me, but just to understand that we can all watch the same show and interpret things differently due to our own life experiences. By explaining my viewpoints, I’m showing you into my thought process. You are certainly free to disagree but I’m not trying to change your feelings on the matter, nor do I wish for anyone to forcibly change mine.

We can all exist in the same space and I encourage anyone who has a different view to write an analysis of their own instead of arguing in anyone’s comment section. Be kind and respectful and most of all, remember this is fiction and subjective interpretation. There are so many things to be really angry about in the world and Star Wars is the least of our worries.

Cheers and as always, May the Force be with you!

[fynsh]

Parenting difficulty ranking by Alpha-17

Wolffe

Fox

Bly

Cody

Ponds

Parenting difficulty ranking by the batch

Boba

Boba Fett

Boba Fett, alias CT-1313

Boba Fett, alias CT-1313, angry feral much too clever child with access to too many weapons

Rex

While every brother chose a name to have just for themselves and to distinguish themselves from each other, Boba chose a designation number to have something in common with his brothers and to blend in

[joannasteez]

to the victors, go the spoils

pairing: cody rhodes x black reader x jey uso

summary/warning/authors note: after the win at fastlane, cody finds himself along with jey at your house, in your bed, enjoying the benefits of being champions. | you know what time it is, im givin smut but its always gon come with some description. explicit at that so minors dni! my first time writing them both so go easy on me ;) slowly becoming a cody girl >>>>

word count: 4.7k

text message | outgoing: nice match. great win. 

text message | cody rhodes: can the victor have his spoils?

text message | outgoing: if he plays nice, yes. 

text message | cody rhodes: i have a friend taggin' along, hows that for nice? 

text message | outgoing: sounds like fun

a small creeping shudder to your skin, this taunting twist of excitement and anticipation. you could feel, see even, from the dimly lit living room where you sat, that slow spreading smile of satisfaction he wore often. or rather, as often as you saw him. both ring side and bed side, cody rhodes, the one they called the american nightmare, had this subtly to him. this dapperness that caught your eye and the draw of your breath. he donned himself in suits and dressed his words in a similar likeness, but was never shy to dirty himself for the fun of it. 

it wasn't often that you saw him, but when he rolled through indiana for a match, he made his way, without fail, to your place. to see you. to talk, to touch, to kiss. to have his fill of fun before begrudgingly leaving. the smallest of pouts tainting his lips before leaving your door, and it's what you craved the most. the idea that you were too good to stay away from, too good to leave. he was a man of business, and you'd slowly, with time, made yourself apart of his business. something he'd need to tend to in an effort to keep close. 

he was patient and clever. at times devious. soft and sweet. always thinking of the next thing to leave you wondering. kind of something like now, as shea butter smooths over fine from hand to thrilled skin. who could his friend be? 

but jey uso feels the same way that you do, left to roam in a clueless sort of excitement. he's sobered enough to control his thoughts, his words less slurry than the way they were at the press conference. but his blood still rushes, and his head swims, this dull light rocking. like the pull in of morning waves. he wonders what you look like, how sweet your voice could be, and there it goes, a tingling in his fingers. his pants, the place right where his dick sits, half hard and almost ready. sounds like fun, your message had read, brief and not leaving much to the imagination. but he figured, if cody had driven so far away from the arena, then you were worth it. 

and "fuck me", the smallest mumble from jey's lips when you open the door to let them in. a champagne silk robe and even silkier looking skin. warm and brown under soft dim light. and that voice? a sly "hey", coyness there but still easy going. a damn angel. it was worth it. 

the tension in the silence is palpable. worthy of a knife. eyes cutting to and from. who'd say what and make the first move when. you pull the door wider, allowing them in, ignoring the heat of cody's blue eyes, deciding to take jey in instead. 

"when cody said a friend, i didn't think he'd be the main event".

jey's head tilts, turning to let his eyes fall everywhere it could. your face, the peak of cleavage, the painted baby pink of your toes. the sultry atmosphere of the house. you were prepared it seemed. his ego having no choice but to bloom. threatening to burst. "you a fan?" 

you shrug, a feigning of disinterest, but the warmth pooling your belly says different. because jey isn't all that shy about checking you out, curious eyes taking this slow trailing over the smaller details, looking, you assumed for the things he liked. and the space is thin between the two of you, taking his jacket, cologne heady. a gravitating thing. and to him you smell sweet, expensive. 

"i watch casually". 

and cody smiles at his genius, easing further into your house. reveling with comfortable steps at the short fused tension building between you and his new tag team partner. you're all but on your knees for jey and he's just only made it through the door."casual my ass. she knows every bit of my entrance music. word for damn word.

your eyes roll playful. hesitating to leave jey briefly before following cody to take his suit jacket."fuck you rhodes".

he mumbles a"you will", before needy hands pull you in, and the seam of his lips push into yours for a more than subtle kiss. tongue following after, smooth and controlling. you'd found in your times with him that a drink or two made him less patient. less willing to follow through with subtlety. he bit gentle and caressed with tough fingers that spurred on a sure to harshen pound that found its way to the crux of your thighs. he was buzzed maybe, but not nearly as drunk as he was at that conference. cheeks not as red and eyes not as glazed. you liked him like this, present enough to follow well through with his teasing. 

and as his lips break from yours, taking on the skin at your neck, your nails run through blonde hair. eyes looking for jey whose already moving closer. 

cody at your ear. "i missed you", suckling gentle just below your ear. "missed you so much i bought a friend for you to play with". 

"you're so good to me", a moan of sarcasm, pulling from him to grab jey. your steps setting off for the living room. 

cody disappears into a hallway, small bag in hand. his voice carrying on. "be nice. i'll be back".

the blunt you'd been pulling from before they came finds its way from an ash tray back between your fingers. but jey grabs easy at the lighter in time to hold it up for you. the spark just at the tip of it warm. you pull, a soft hallow of your cheeks that makes him wonder about other things, before the full inhale. you offer him the blunt and he takes it. touch faint enough that it urges the skin for more. 

"what's your poison jey?" he keeps the blunt between his fingers, feeding you the end to pull again. the smoke making for more heady air. "i've been told i mix drinks good". 

"nah i'm good right now". his eyes fixed on the fullness of your lips. "not tryna fuck around and over do it". 

you point over to the couch, watching his legs set wide and inviting as he sits. ending the burn of the blunt, you walk about the living room. loving the way his arms fall over the tops of the fine leather. he's settled in. that's good, you think.

"how you know cody?" 

"i'm a chef", you started. twisting the switch of another lamp not too far away to see more of his pretty face. "met him a while back at one of my restaurants". 

"oh yeah? one of?" a palm smoothening over the thick hair at his beard. eyeing your legs as you draw closer. "you got it like that?" 

"of course". 

just in front of him you pull the knot of your robe to reveal baby pink lace, and he stops with everything not to hiss with want. but waits instead, your body slotting over him to straddle his thighs. humming with a deep sigh as the nails of your fingers run down the broad width of his chest, before lifting to take purchase at the nape of his neck where the blue of his mullet sits. the hair curling and silky to the touch. cody a slight after thought as you push your lips in to ghost over jey's. this slow faint ride as you speak. 

"i like your eyes. they speak for you". 

"what they sayin?"

and it's what you expect the kiss to be, despite the tension, the heady way need pulses about skin and short lasting clever touch. until now of course, his hands more sure, spread wide and warm at your thighs. gentlemanly enough to kiss with patience, to test the taste of your lips before the slow roll in of tongue, and fuck, its a soft thickness. a deviously low groaning from his chest bleeding into where you hold at his cheeks, as he rushes in for more. 

jey builds as the seconds pour one into the other, his kiss a good sort of sloppy that makes your hips rut and your brain numb, but his hands, as big and damaging as they can be, don't grip too tight. caution like a weight, stifling the more vicious sort of pulling and prying you ache for. 

a whimper sounds from your throat , your hips grinding into his, needy for friction. "touch me how you want. i won't break". breathy but assured. 

and it's all he needs before his fingers grow hard and sharp into supple skin. something like the screwing in of nails. at your thighs, your ass, nearly ripping the stitch of the lace, till he's holding tight at your breast. lips dragging kisses over the ways of your neck, tongue peaking to taste as he goes, till they slip over wet, firm, your nipples tight as he swirls. another one of his moans stretching slow through your skin till it hits nerve. 

your hips work desperate more than anything, the texture of his jeans against the crotchless opening pushing at your slit. as he sucks, licks sloppy enough that his spit drips, you feel yourself growing messy. pussy wet and seeping on the less than soft fabric, on him.

and jey notices, of-fucking-course he notices. smirking devious at the way you fall apart on him already. another swat to already hot skin that makes you throb and hiss. "makin' a fuckin mess on me already". 

"just means i like you", smirking with him even in your haze. your fingers a comb through his hair as you bring him back to suck at you. missing the feeling already. 

and the way you get lost in him is easy. as he grabs and pulls and pinches. licks and kisses. 

footsteps a steady padding behind you, till they stop, and then your head is pulling back unhurried by a hand at your throat. the touch not jey's but demanding all the same. your eyes dim in their pleasure but open enough still to make out cody's face. his sharp features rounding out some at the edges of his jaw as he smiles. 

"open for me sweetheart".

and your lips part, tongue stretching out till you feel his spit drip at it. a satisfied hum strumming  your ears as he bends to peck your mouth. fingers squeezing at your throat to accompany the sensation of jey teasing his teeth at your nipples. sharp pullings that force out moans more broken than whole. 

"i think she's ready for more", cody announces. blue eyes glazing over with this fine layer of lust as he trails slow over you. 

and that giddy way your nerves had split and reformed, splitting to come together again, over and over, after reading cody's text messages, has turned now into something new as your body dips soft into the bed, awaiting more of whatever they have for you. this steady rushing in your blood, frenzied and never ending. and they stare you down in this connected way, hunters after prey, toothy grins and lusty eyes as they guide your body. thighs snugging in jey's head and your knees nailed into the cushion of the bed, his tongue dipping into the soaked mess of your pussy as you attempt to settle into sitting on his face. 

and cody, all lean muscle and fire in the icy blue of his eyes, licking rough into your mouth to take advantage of the sloppy moving your lips take to return his kisses. your own head swimming, high off of the ache twisting at your core from the way jey sucks at your needy clit. his tongue moving, no where near desperate, but eager, determined to drive you to madness. and you like the toughness of them both, the harsher touches and grips to the skin, so when he swats hard at your ass again and feels you drip in his mouth, he groans satisfied. excited. 

his palm comes down, again and again, breaking pleasure into thick skin till you whimper and shiver, lips suckling sweet all the same.

you hiss at the stinging, waiting for that inevitable sinking in of heat as jey caresses where he strikes. something like a gentle storm every time he meets your flesh. harsh and soothing all the same, with these slip ins of pleasure, tongue flat and licking broad at your slit. 

a laugh bristles your skin, just at your forehead, hands trembling and useless as they attempt to pull away cody's pants. you whine, pleading, and he takes a minute from his amusement to do away with the rest of his clothes, springing up hard and warm against your skin. 

another spank rips into raw skin, and you feel the ripple of it at your clit. coaxes your eyes to roll. 

cody thinks he's never seen you so taken by pleasure. ardor sweet off your skin. your touch warm and firm as you fix yourself to stroking the deep pink of his tip. a grunt toppling from him as you let spit string out wet and lazy from between kiss swollen lips. "so damn pretty", he huffs. savoring the slow pull in you take of his cock. 

and your tongue is all silk and gentle touch. a warmth he's missed since his last visit to indiana. but he's patient about getting what he wants, pulls up a foot to sit on the bed for better steadying and lets you work him at a leisure pass. one of his hands unrelenting as it swats at your thigh. "you like a little pain, don't you angel?", voice rasped and a bit dazed. 

"yes", feathered and faint. 

heat overflowing in your cheeks, hips rutting at the flat lay of jey's tongue. a thick finger finding its way to slip into you as you grind wild at him. chasing the release that comes after the vicious knotting in your core. and the sound of the room is lewd, silence burdened by the soft squelch of tongues and the urgent push in of warm taut fingers. jey lavishes you like the taste is heaven sent. something once in a lifetime. like one moment away from the soaked mess of you will do him in to an endless suffering. and for as much as it's worth, your palm grips as the other digs into the sheets, to press in a squeeze against the weight of cody's balls. mouth a sweet suck at the harsh reddened tip of him. 

your words reach out as nothing more than a breath. a quick "oh fuck", that badly sums up the building of tension. hips nearly smothering jey as cody takes your mouth to kiss, a hand at your neck again, swallowing moans and that faithful ability to breathe. the throb in your spine grows ruthless and the spasm of your clit nearly splits your ears. vision blurred as you fight for composure amongst the rage of release. 

the room taking this lax spin, their eagerness driving them to lay you down easy. your legs spreading despite the ache. moaning soft and satisfied, blissed as fingers slip gentle through your slit with a slight shake. simply to savor and prolong even the rush in your blood. a delicate fondling to spread your lower lips, peeling back to reveal, like the prettiest flowers in bloom. the grin pulling along your lips a gentle teasing seduction. and of course the mere way you play with yourself  doesn't compare to jey, that slow thick push in, his strokes measured but yours sloppy, ministrations drunk off the heat of hungry gazes. 

but it's not hard, getting lost in you. your taste, skin supple and balmy. so easy to hold, to melt into. it's no wonder cody travels so far when he's here. jey would to, wants to after this, but even the thought of leaving is a disappointing one. he just wants to stay here, watch you work your way into delirium. wants to help you get there even, losing the rest of his clothes and bringing himself back to you till his knees sink into the bed.

you meet him, your eyes to his. moaning excited, the heaviness of him taking a steady slip over your slit. "pictures last longer"

he doesn't rush. leans his palm into the back of your thigh to spread you more. "Mhmm", leaning down to kiss you, tongue sweeping through for good measure. "Keep talkin' that shit". 

you comb through the blue of his mullet, savoring his mouth, before letting him go. "it's ok to be a fan y'know?" cody brings himself just at your side, thumbs taking to caressing the taut sensitive twist of your nipples. mouth taking purchase at that place just below you ear that seems to be home for him. you cradle him close, senses on the verge of being driven to overstimulation. "cody has me used to the attention". 

"m' sure he does", and jey gets why, every inch of you leaving his blood to rush fast and loose, tipsy off just the idea of digging into you. the fat tip of his dick pushing patient at you, a steady press of his hips, almost reverential in the way he lets you pull him in. inch by sweet inch. "you feel too good not to pay attention to". fire in his fingers, imprinting into the memory of your muscles an ache that only comes otherwise in the most lucid of dreams. you feel, as your lip suffers from the bite of your teeth, that this is once in a lifetime. the stretch, the look of him, your skin being this endless playground for kisses, for men to roam and adore, and fuck, you're sure he's nearly split you to fit. wet still but warm and hugging. but it drives him just as crazy, hips rutting with a mind of their own, seeking pleasure fast, despite his wants to draw out the pleasure. "you holdin' me tight like you been needin' me huh?" 

you whine. "jey". stunned. overwhelmed. pleading "please", but for what you don't know. you just need it.

he can't help but laugh. and it's deep and full of ego. cody joining, warm breath fighting its way under damp skin.  

jey moves only slightly, lifting your leg and shifting to sink deeper.  your back curling with a throb, forcing your breast to push further into cody's mouth. the cruelest, sweetest, chain reaction. 

he huffs, pulls his hips away just enough to tease his tip at the tight ring of your entrance, and the stretch feels new once again, and then again still, good and splitting as nerve breaks and cleaves open. raw and tender to the touch. 

"i get in this pussy and you go speechless".

"shit", whiny. 

"c'mon mama, talk that shit", finding a rhythm, a tempo. something steady enough that it feels too good. so much so that your nails fall at where he meets you to push him away. a miserable try and fail at quelling pleasure. "stay with me baby", voice satin smooth. "m' right here. stay with me". not wanting you to escape him. not without what he'd come all this way for, not without what you needed. 

with a lazy pop of his lips, teeth driving sharp but faint at a taut sensitive nipple, cody traces deft. intention clever as he covers the course of your body, down pass your navel till your clits held swollen and throbbing in between his fingers. he pinches firm, till he gets the moan that he's looking for. the one that drags and whines, stresses out in pleasure so much that it dresses itself as pained. but he knows you well, enough to know that you can take a little plain, a little bite with your bliss. because it only makes your wetter, more pliant. 

and the swell of release is easier to coax out now, a mere snap at your core that hitches breath and spasm's your bones. it'd been something a little more put together before, these sweet drops of arousal at his tongue as you rutted and worked yourself to finish. but now it was something messy. uninhibited and wild. a lusty flood that coats him in a soft creamy white. jey lurches, his hips taking to uncontrolled thrust, moving mindless and raw. deeper to bed himself in the tight vice of you. 

it's addicting, words slurring, running away from him. "goddamn girl, you feel so fucking- fuck!... so good". 

and he thinks he doesn't want to leave, watching you melt into the fine thread of bed sheets. blissed out and breathing heavy. splayed and vulnerable, like some delicate, fierce painting. cody continuing a steady onslaught at your clit. you whine and shiver, high off thrill as your fingertips dig behind the meat of your thighs to keep your legs opened for him. needy still for the fill of him. arousal a mess that leeks its way to the bedsheets. and jey thinks, that when he's good and through, he'll dip his tongue back in you, have you come undone again off his touch till the sun breaks against the horizon. you'll do then as you do now, unraveling untamed as you come, moaning and writhing till you're nothing but a thing to chant his name. 

you'll praise him, tell him how good he is, how good you want to be for him. it'll resound, faithful and messy. slurred by pleasure as you go dumb from the deep pound of his dick. you'll be like what you are now, the perfect spoil for a champion. 

jey feels his core knot up, a twisted burn that scorches out to every inch that he can feel, till he's twitching violent and coming hard. the mess he's made leaking slow, a warm pooling out that he strokes back in. just enough to feel you throb for him one more time.

jey moves then, after he catches his breath, commits the daze of your eyes to memory and settles for watching the break of cody's trim demeanor. this meticulous sort of care for his disposition done away with, once he's had you in his arms. and though cody has abandoned his suits and ties on plenty of occasions to scrap and rumble with men twice his size, only you in recent times, have seen the softness under the shell of him. 

jey takes to laying lazy at the head of the bed, your mouth just inches away from the messy slick you'd made of his dick, as cody pushes a deep arch into your spine. every inch he touches is every inch that throbs with a pulse and with heat. an ache that threatens a breaking, but really its just that beautiful burn of muscle. the blooming of a flame that eats at tension and the hesitancy that comes with distance, because cody had longed for you for some time. to slip his skin against yours, till you'd grown mute from satiation. 

he throbs at the thought even, to feel you tremble about him the way you'd done so messily for jey already, his eyes a cold blue but still scorched with need the way he bares down on you. a stare that fights into your skin, makes you clit flutter with anticipation. 

cody groans, stroking himself. "spread for me angel", and you do just that. face dug into the sheets just inches away from the inner part of jey's thigh, nails pulling at your ass till your lower lips spread. you clench and unclench, again and again, anticipating, and then you moan needy, mindless, cody tapping his tip at the fat of your clit. "there you go", raspy and praising, before he slips easy into the mess of you. grin forming small through his perfect teeth, satisfied. feeling at home. 

and he takes his time, takes the place of your hands as he holds to keep you spread, mesmerized by the wet strokes he gives against the soft pull of your pussy. fucked already, but needing to be fucked still. and he loved these things about you, the width of your wants and that insatiable streak of fulfilling them.

your lips reach for jey, wet kisses at his thigh till you reach to dip your tongue at his slick tip. tasting the mess you'd made together. a fine back and forth between a sweet suckling and these little delicate kitten licks. and he lets you do as you please, enjoying the gentle attention. caressing your jaw even as you move about him. eyes dim and delirious. 

"he made of mess of you, huh sweetheart?", his hips moving deft. ears pricked hot and twitching at the sound of his every stroke. a salacious soaked smacking that drives him further, deeper, till he's buried to the hilt. 

cody throbs warm in you as he takes you. mouth trembly as you give him a not so simple "yeah", your hips pushing to fuck on him. 

and it's not so simple because your nerves continue to split and grow more raw by the second. overstimulated but somehow wanting more. begging filthy and impatient. 

but he meets the demand, guiding you by the nape of your neck till you're upright, knees wider and burying further into the sheets. his hands form harsh against your breast, pinching and pulling to his content, breath erratic at your ear as he fucks you seemingly deeper than before. pussy a dewy mess, his dick nudging and persistent to feel you drool and spasm for him.

and he kisses at your exposed shoulder, hips a ways away from brutal but his lips bloom at your damp skin in gentle ways that leave you feeling drunk. his tongue and teeth licking and nipping, moaning at the tight cling of you. cody revels in the ways that plains of your skin mold into his. a balmy, tender, pressing in that forces his heart to flutter and his mind to numb. grow delirious with thoughts and ideas not so amorous, that lend themselves to a seriousness that comes with sobered talks and resolute feelings. 

you lay forward again, face nudging into the sheets. jey's eyes a sharp focus at your face, at your mouth as it opens, jaw dropped some in a silent euphoria. his hand pulling at his dick with simple lazy strokes. feeling a slow to form stir as he watches cody fuck you. 

"fuck i-", you attempt to speak, the knot in your gut threatening to burst at the seams. "right there, please". 

and cody obliges, steady's his rhythm to something that builds the both of you to bliss, the knock of his hips coaxing you to drip more. your slit dewy and slick as a finger rolls over the twitch of your clit. 

"such nice, pretty manners when you wanna come", he groans, chuckling wry in a dazed sort of amusement. because he knows you, knows the patterns of your pleasure and your needs. the things you say and how you say them, when you tease and when you beg. how your precision grows weak at the feel of an assured touch. his hand swatting quick, the flesh at your ass rippling, the grip of your heat growing tighter, letting him know you're just near release. on the brink of it actually. 

"give it to me, come in me". rushed and whiny. breath short. 

"oh...shit!"

cody's waist snaps. pounds out as you come undone and spasm hard. a feverish shake in your legs as you pull all strength in you to roll your hips into him till he falls into a wild take of bliss. the hard thrumming in his blood spreading till his chest pounds and his fingers twitch. his spend dripping warm as it seeps out. and in his daze, he rubs his thumb through it to soothe over your clit, prolonging the throb there.

"fuck thats so good. thank you", a soft whimper into the tear stains of the sheets. fluttering still but sated. your sayings slurred and brain dizzy in the thrill of release. 

[seawitchkaraoke]

I loved seeing Murph just play ridiculously smart this season (and for once the dice + reliable talent let his incredibly clever plans actually succeed), it was incredible, he is so so good at this game

I do now need him to immediately play a Cody Walsh esque character next season, just an absolute idiot, I need the contrast I love nothing more than seeing an incredibly competent player be stupid on purpose for the bit

[funny-critter-blog]

doodles galore babyyyyyy

your honor I care them

bubba is not okay

I think snoozy might be my favorite, she’s just so cute

snoozy can be a little creepy now and then, as a treat

cody when no sharing

an attempt at a clever gjinka

[yukipri]

I wanted to formally introduce two new members of my family: Cody and Rex!

Cody (mostly called Ko-chan, sometimes Coco-nuts or Cocoa) is a siamese kitten, probably roughly 7 months(?) old. He is very hyper and bold to the point of reckless. His hobbies include screaming for food, trying to steal human food, successfully stealing his brother's food, and in general doing everything he's not supposed to do. He is very clever but chooses to show it in the stupidest ways possible. He has also earned the nicknames Hungry Beastie, Black Hole, the Screaming Baby, Fluff Ball, Little Demon, and Tiny Thug (I probably should have named him Fives).

Rex (mostly called Recchan, or O-Rere) is a snowshoe kitten, and probably around the same age as Cody, though we adopted them from separate shelters. He's very sweet and shy, but bold when he gains confidence. He isn't very food motivated, but loves toys and other cats. He is often drowsy for a while after waking up, and loves cuddling most then. He has a shockingly deep voice for a kitten. He also does not like wearing a collar. He has earned the nicknames Sweet Angel, Sleepy Baby, and Naaaaw (what his voice sounds like) (I probably should have named him Echo).

I adopted them roughly 2 months ago (roughly a week after Lu passed), so they've been with us a while now, but I didn't feel ready to start posting about them yet.

We're still in the process of getting Ace and Sabo to fully accept them (meaning: getting the older boys to not look at them like they're the stinkiest lil gremlins in the galaxy), but they've come a long way, and we'll continue to work on it.

But yeah! I wanted to introduce them, so please expect photos of them to start popping up on this blog too!

While they aren't technically "ASL Kittens," I want to keep all my cat photos in the same tag, so I'll continue using the #YukiPriASLKittens tag for them!

Cats tag: #YukiPriASLKittens

(at 4 cats, am I nearing Crazy Cat Lady (non-gendered) status yet?)

[jedi-order-apologist]

Discovery

The trainers often called Cody clever. Written for Fandom Empire Monopoly 2024 - Prompt: "Clever" and StarWars100 - Prompt: "Clone" and 212th Appreciation Week - Prompt: "Force-Sensitive Clones" and Jedi June - Prompt: "Eyes Closed/Trust in the Force"

Read on AO3

The trainers often called Cody clever. Sometimes it was even a compliment.

It wasn’t always. Sometimes, a clone could be clever in ways that weren’t conducive to his performance as a soldier. Cody paid close attention to this, and was quick to adapt his own behavior – suppress any signs of cleverness that would be poorly received, and keep the ones (mostly in battlefield tactics) that brought favorable responses.

He was largely successful at this. It was why they had called him clever in the first place, after all – he noticed things, picked up on patterns well enough to predict where they would lead.

General Kenobi noticed. Cody felt his attention sometimes, even when the General wasn’t looking directly at him.

“I’d like you to try an exercise with me, Commander.”

Cody easily agreed.

“This is an exercise in focus,” General Kenobi said, setting a small box between them. “Close your eyes, Cody, and picture the object in front of you.”

Cody followed his lead, and shut his eyes.

“Good. Now, bring in your other senses. Focus on how it feels, the weight of it.”

He didn’t know, exactly, what it would feel like, not having touched it, but he could predict it.

“Now, lift it. Not with your hands.”

Cody pictured the box rising into the air, the way he had seen the general lift things before. He imagined gravity pulling against it, opposing him as he lifted it away from the ground.

“Ah. I suspected as much.”

“Hmm?” The image wavered for a moment, but Cody quickly regained concentration.

“Open your eyes, Commander,” he said.

Cody did, and saw that the general had lifted the box to where Cody had imagined it being.

“Sir?”

“I am not doing that, Cody.”

Cody looked between the box and his general.

“Oh.”

[frostbitebakery]

If you are still doing the wip titles game thing I would be interested in seeing what "The Commander Is Alright" is (The Commander isn't alright, is he?)

Something is going on with Obi-Wan’s Commander. He’s competent, incredibly so. He’s the rock many of the clones lean on. He’s dependable, caring. Brave. Always calculating the odds, and his laugh warms Obi-Wan’s soul.

He’s kind. He’s expecting the best and inspires the best. And he’s lonely.

When they met, Commander Cody’s light in the Force was almost blinding, so Obi-Wan had closed his eyes and soaked up the warmth.

Still, he tends to keep away from others. He’s never taken off his helmet in Obi-Wan’s presence. Even when they’re alone and griping over after-action reports and requisition forms.

Perhaps Obi-Wan hasn’t earned his trust yet. Which, going into the second year of the war, is no small hurt. But Obi-Wan respects the decisions and boundaries of others. And yet, the light his Commander emits is almost too bright. Bright enough to not see what’s behind it.

So, what happened, unofficially, was a training accident that landed Cody in a coma just before Geonosis. The mad scrambling to cover it up, to start a clone generations-spanning conspiracy within the medical branch to keep him hidden and alive.

Commander Cody, officially, finished his CC training with the highest marks, fulfilling the expectations placed on him. He was tracked to join General Windu in the war but Alpha 17’s injuries changed that course.

“You need to be careful,” 17 had advised him while holding his slack hand in broad palms. “He’s observant and clever. They all are. You need to be your best and he will look away whenever you need him to. He’s a good man, and, in this, you need to take advantage of that.”

The hollow armor in the corner straightened up, saluted sharply. “Understood, sir.”

It had been a miracle, or maybe Cody is just Force-sensitive enough to pull miracles like this out of his ass. Instead of enjoying the vacation a coma provided, he possessed his own armor and faked having a body while his batch, his siblings, his friends in the medic branch got in on the hoax.

“We keep your body alive and figure out how to wake you up. You win the war.”

That had been the deal Alpha 17 had laid out for him.

Cody thinks, sometimes, he’s got the easier end. He’s a strategist. He’s a hardass. He gives everything to keep as many of them alive as possible.

He just hasn’t expected General Kenobi to crawl under his metaphorical skin. Maybe he actually can share this secret with him.

The culmination of all that is a happy end with the chips being discovered, Palps having an unfortunate yet hilarious interaction with a bullet, and:

Armor pieces clatter to the ground, one by one. They don’t distract from Cody’s brilliant, transparent smile, from the cheeky, perfect salute. “It’s been an honor fighting this war by your side, sir.”

Obi-Wan grins back. They survived, they won. Many a difficult task lie ahead of all of them. But they’re here to do them. He bows, deep and respectful as Cody deserves. “The honor is all mine, Commander.” The last piece, one of the vambraces, hits the ground, leaving the blue hue of Cody’s appearance behind. “Time to bring you home, Cody,” Obi-Wan promises.