Of Fandoms and Fanfics

Odysseus: Regret it why?

Cassandra: You won’t believe me if I tell you. If I prophecy, nobody believes me. That is my curse.

Odysseus: … I’m Nobody. Fill me in. 

*A couple of months later* 

Odysseus: HELLO PENELOPE, I AM HERE PRECISELY ON TIME AND NOT YEARS LATE incidentally I rescued and adopted a Trojan seer while I was away, she’s great, got me home really fast, Cassandra this is your new mother who’s not going to treat you like shit. 

Penelope: … I’m going to need more details, but okay, sure. 

WHELP.

MEET TERRA AND JOVE, I GUESS 8’D?! GODDAMN IT, YOU WIN, TUMBLR, I GIVE UP *SOB*

“Ridiculously easy buttermilk biscuits!” You click the link. It’s a novella about finding inner peace in suburbia. You never knew you were disturbed till now.

“Ridiculously easy green beans!” You click the link, there are twelve ingredients. None of them are green beans.

“Ridiculously easy salted pistachio caramel latte coffee cake in three easy steps!” You click the link. There are twelve steps. 

“Ridiculously easy marshmallow fondant!“ You click the link. It’s another novella about suburbia, this time about the dangers of feeding chemicals to your children. You wonder when you acquired these children and worry about their eyes. They are too bright, too happy, too shining…

“Ridiculously easy evaporated milk custard!*” *Must own own cow.

“Ridiculously easy shortcake in 12 steps!” You click the link. There are no steps.

“Ridiculously easy, easy to make, easy in three minutes, easy!” It doesn’t tell you what you’re making but you’re pretty certain it shouldn’t be hissing.

“Ridiculously easy,” the article reads, “easy, it’s so easy, easy” you hear laughing. Your face hurts why does your face hurt?

There are some signs that tell/warn you that you are mentally exhausted or drained.

1. Irritation.

You feel irritated rather quickly by minor things. The whole day you feel hopeless and you know you should do the best out of it. But you can‘t and that is frustrating. Instead of worrying take those „time outs“ to work on yourself, to make you feel better.

2. Low Motivation.

You can‘t bring yourself to do anything. But don‘t push yourself. Lay back and get on your right track before you overwork yourself.

3. Anxiety Attacks.

They happen more frequently and more random. The stress is overpowering you. Lay back and tend to your wounds. Find out what you need.

4. Sleeping Troubles.

Just because you are exhausted, doesn‘t meed your mind won‘t race the entire night preventing you from getting an healthy amount of sleep.

5. Upset.

Because of your low energy and your hightened sensitivity, you get upset my minor things rather quickly. It actually brings tears to your eyes. Don’t let yourself suffer.

6. Nausea.

You feel dizzy and nauseous almost all the time. You lack concentration and can’t eat, because everything tastes the same.

7. Crying.

You feel like crying all the time. You are oversensitive and you feel like the whole word is plotting against you. And your body only knows one thing of cleansing: crying.

8. Detachement.

You start to feel „comfortable numb“, meaning you stop feeling at all. You just pass by, nothing has an effect on you anymore.

First, you had a lot of commercially prepared products like Jello and Spam (Spam, Spam, Spam …) and things like that being available to the general public for the first time.  A lot of these recipes come from ads for processed foods; they’re “serving suggestions” writ fancy.

Second, the Jello molds in particular are a democratization of an old-fashioned and very upper-class way of preserving perishable foods, which was to encase them in a meat jelly called aspic.  The aspic would preserve the food by preventing bacteria from getting at it.  It took time and effort to make an aspic, so it was rich-people food, prepared by cooks in big houses.  Jello (in its more savory flavors) could do the exact same thing, except that one lone housewife could make a Jello mold cheaply and easily.  I’m not saying that aspic was necessarily the most appealing food out there, but it was high-status because it was associated with Fancy European Aristocrats.

Third, more people had refrigerators, not just iceboxes.  A lot of these dishes need to be chilled, so here’s a way to use one of your fancy new kitchen appliances.

Fourth, this is not everyday food, for which we are all grateful.  It’s Fancy Food, meant to show off.  You’d serve it at a party (and then, presumably, your friends would retaliate by holding another party and serving something else equally revolting).  So this is food that takes careful preparation, lots of time, and lots of effort.  You, as the Middle-Class Fifties Housewife, are showing off your new postwar prosperity.  You have the skill to make food look … um, “attractive,” you have the money to buy all these ingredients, you have the kitchen equipment and appliances to prepare them, and because your husband works a comfortable middle-class job, you have the time to stay at home all day and construct something like this.  This kind of food is the physical manifestation of Thorstein Veblen’s theory of Conspicuous Consumption.

Fifth, if you’re a housewife making this in the 50s and 60s and even into the 70s, there’s a good chance that you were born in the 20s or 30s, and that you grew up during the Depression and WWII.  You might have grown up poor, not having access to a wide variety of food, or not having time or a place to prepare it.  You might have seen fancy food in magazines, but not a chance that that kind of eating would ever trickle down to you!  And then … voila, it did!  I think a lot of this sort of thing is just a grownup way to play with food, to experiment with all the neat new things that technology, processing, and a new tax bracket could bring you.  These are adult mud pies; who cares how it tastes?  We can make it look Really Cool!  We don’t care all that much about specific nutritional value; we’re just so happy to have all this food, and sufficient calories, that we’ll just play with it and try it in weird combinations and enjoy it.  (Or, I suspect, “enjoy” it.)

I would also point out that some of the pictured recipes suffer a bit from EarlyMarketingitis. The photos are as much a problem as the recipes themselves, sometimes more so. 

For the record, ham and banana hollandaise isn’t actually terrible, just suffering from a surfeit of banana and some very unappetizing photography there. Mine looked about the same when I made it, so I can’t fault the food stylist, but it’s a good idea dealt with poorly.

The milk chicken really, really suffers on that recipe card – I’m pretty sure that the recipe itself is just chicken roasted in milk, which I’ve also made, and which is a fairly common “new trick” in certain culinary circles today. It makes a hell of a mess in the pan but results in very good, moist chicken. The problem is that often, so as not to waste the milk, it’s suggested you should cook the milk down into a sauce for the chicken. (Mine split and curdled when I did it, unfortunately.) What they’ve pretty obviously done there is used an early marketing trick and replaced the sauce with some other….material, probably glue or white plastic, to be a more stable representation of the sauce for photographic purposes.  

OH GOD NO BUT THAT WOULD BE PERFECT. how did the jedi not think of that?

what is anakin’s biggest weakness? attachments.

you know who needs lots of attachment? babies. small children.

anakin should not have been made to study murder: he should have been put in charge of Small Things. He would have bonded with all of them instantly, and it would have given his life Meaning and Purpose.

He’d bond with the kids, but he’d be able to move on because they are Bigger now and they have to go to the Big Kid Class but he still sees them around all the time, and it finally teaches him how to let go of his attachments??? He’d find a kid that he’s particularly fond of and go to Obi-Wan and say “I have found your newest padawan.”

he keeps comming over the years, but it’s always like

BEEP

“Anakin, my boy, we haven’t seen each other in a while—“

“I’m sorry, Chancellor, now’s not the best time. I’m tutoring a class.”

BEEP

“My dear boy, I wonder if we could meet for a chat—“

“Well, it can’t be this week, we’re going to Ilum, but maybe later…”

BEEP

“Anakin, I’d like to—“

“I’m terribly sorry, Chancellor,” Obi-Wan Kenobi answers. The apologetic tone might be just a tad exaggerated. “Anakin is on a trip with younglings, he must’ve left his comlink behind accidentally.”

BEEP

“You’ve reached Anakin Skywalker’s private comlink. Leave the message after the tone.”

BEEP

“It’s such a shame that Council doesn’t consider sending you on this campaign, considering the lightsaber skills you demonstrated when I was last visiting the Temple, Anakin.”

“Thank you, Chancellor, but this is precisely why I need to stay behind. In fact just the last week, the Masters decided I should take over some advanced lightsaber classes, considering senior Padawans accompanying their Masters on the frontlines need the training. I might take the Bear Clan along, make it a learning opportunity for the young ones—“

Palpatine closes his eyes slowly. He knows this from experience; Anakin won’t let himself be budged from the topic of little monsters for at least another half an hour.

BEEP

“Ah, Chancellor Palpatine. Anakin left his comlink behind again, he’s in class—“

BEEP

“Anakin, I hoped you—“

“Oh! Chancellor,” the voice on the other end is distinctly female, and Palpatine recognizes it after a second. Kenobi’s second Padawan. He barely restrains the urge to gnash his teeth. “Um, Skyg—I mean, Master Skywalker can’t pick up now. I can tell him you called? It’s just that he was helping me with forms, and he forgot his comlink, and he’s probably already in crèche…”

BEEP

Then there’s that one time when an actual youngling picks up the call. The less said about his reaction to that incident, the better.

BEEP

“—fortunately, they were all right in the end. But in my opinion, this should never happened in the first place, Chancellor.”

Palpatine snaps awake. Was that… was that anger? Finally, the hours of listening to worthless drivel about Jedi younglings paid off.

“My boy, I absolutely agree,” he begins slyly, but before he can continue, Anakin steamrolls on.

“I think Jedi Order is too deeply entwined in the conflict! I honestly don’t think even senior Padawans should be anywhere near battles, not to mention in command of GAR, but now even younglings are acceptable targets for Separatists and pirates! Master Yoda and I were talking about this lately, and—“

Palpatine swallows a scream of rage with some difficulty.

BEEP

“Forgot his comlink again, Master Skywalker has. With younglings, he is.”

Unfortunately, he fails to reckon with the fact that not only is he going up against Anakin Fucking Skywalker, but that Anakin Fucking Skywalker is the surrogate father/big brother/best friend/cool teacher of ninety percent of the current Padawans and young Knights in the Order. And while the Council might make decisions and talk about the Will of the Force and stuff, those Padawans and Knights only care about the fact that the man who scared away the monsters under the bed–made it feel less lonely and frightening to be away from home when they were small–is now hurting and scared for his own children.

Just like Palpatine always wanted, Anakin ends up leading an army. An army of young Jedi who smash the ever-loving shit out of everything “Darth Sidious” can throw at them, rescue the terrified Skywalker twins, and drag the Chancellor hisownself before the Senate with conclusive proof that he’s an evil Dark-Side-wielding bastard who kidnaps adorable kids.

But Sidious always underestimates how love changes things. And while he’s prepared to fight Anakin’s devoted army of former crechelings, he underestimates how that’s changed the rest of the Order.

Because Obi-Wan is quieter about whom and how he loves but doesn’t make it any less strong. When Obi-Wan loves someone it is unconditional and unyielding and he has never loved anyone as much as he loves Anakin Skywalker. Then the twins are born and Anakin is bashfully about it but he’s not ashamed and of course Obi-Wan has to know, he can’t imagine Obi-Wan not knowing his children (Obi-Wan totally already knows, he has been rolling his eyes about this for months and waiting for Anakin to come to him so he doesn’t spook him or for Padme to knock some freaking sense into him, which she does, because not-dying Padme is scary post-pregnancy and not willing to deal with the stupid anymore) and then Padme hands him Leia and everything stutters to a halt for a moment because oh, oh no, Anakin has found him another padawan.

There is no one Obi-Wan will ever love as fiercely as Anakin, except for Anakin’s children, who may as well be his own children. And he knows from the moment he first holds her that Leia will be the greatest Jedi he ever has a hand in raising.

(It becomes a joke among the Knights and Masters at the temple after the Skywalker twins arrive. If you even think that you might like to take Leia as your padawan, you can feel Obi-Wan glare at you no matter where he is in the galaxy.)

And when Sidious kidnaps Anakin’s children – his future padawan – Obi-Wan is the only Jedi in the galaxy who can put a hand on Anakin’s shoulder and say we need a distraction to do this safely, trust me to bring them home for you. Anakin will lead the frontal assault and tear down all of Sidious’ carefully constructed plans. Obi-Wan will sneak in and safeguard their children and bring them home.

That’s the plan, anyway.

Here’s what none of them expected:

When Luke Skywalker came screaming and red-faced into the world, an ancient, meddling, troll of a Jedi Master who had vowed never to take another padawan felt it and thought: fuck.

Whereas Leia is, even as a child, stubborn and willful and silk hiding steel, Luke is twin balls of sunshine. Raised among Jedi, he is so bright a presence it hurts. Even raised among Jedi, he wears his heart on his sleeve and has absolutely no guile and he pouts when the cafeteria doesn’t serve his favourite dessert but will cheerfully walk across the room and give it to someone else if he senses that person is still hungry. The first time Luke sees Yoda he stares at him, all big blue eyes and pudgy baby hands, then grabs his ears and won’t let go. Everyone is horrified. Yoda harrumphs at him and tell him, “Patience, young one.” He toddles after Yoda from the time he can crawl and no matter how grouchy Yoda seems he never actively dissuades him from it.

After the twins enter the temple, Anakin always knows not to worry if Luke is missing from the crèche. Yoda will escort him back sooner or later.  

(He’s always much more worried when Leia disappears because, yes, Obi-Wan will bring her back but they’ll have always gotten into trouble in the meantime.)

Yoda does not confront Darth Sidious. Yoda does not lose his duel with the Sith lord and become diminished because of it. Yoda is with Obi-Wan, sneaking into his stronghold to see the twins safe. Yoda cannot go Sith hunting when Luke is in pain and gently clinging to him, his arms around his neck, bruised and bleeding and smiled at Yoda when he saw him because Luke knew he would come.

(Sidious cannot win, with them. Leia would risk her home being obliterated rather than betray her righteous cause. Luke would willingly walk into flames rather than give up on those he loves. It hurts, oh it hurts, to see the other in pain, but Leia can watch Luke being hurt and know there are more important things at stake than the two of them and Luke can watch Leia being hurt and trust that they will be saved.)

Sidious escapes but his Empire falls before it solidifies. He will never be as powerful as he needs to be.

(It’s Anakin who notices there is something wrong with the clones. He’s not their General but Obi-Wan is and Obi-Wan is a good general. When Obi-Wan is hurt, they’re all nosey and worried and Anakin – all but glued to his former Master’s bedside when it’s really bad and first and foremost a mechanic – can tell that something is wrong. He’s not always with them so it never becomes familiar, it never becomes normal, and it niggles at the back of his brain until he’s sitting in front of Obi-Wan’s bacta tank –  old training bond humming between them because Obi-Wan hates drugs and hates being sedated and he stays quieter and heals faster if Anakin is there to keep him calm – and Rex walks in to check on the General and Anakin turns around to look at him and he sees it.

The Jedi Order quietly deprograms the clone army. They trace the chip back to Palpatine. Padme and Bail Organa and Mon Mothma start quietly amassing information against him and his allies – enough for criminal charges, pushing Sidious to show his hand and try to kidnap the twins.)

Obi-Wan takes Leia as his Padawan the second she’s old enough for it to be proper. They are scarily well matched. If he was the Jedi’s best hope to keep planets from succeeding during the war, together they can talk whole systems into rejoining the rebuilding Republic. 

Yoda leaves Luke in the crèche until the day before his thirteenth birthday. Everyone is worried except Luke (who knows he is meant to be a Jedi and knows Master Yoda is meant to teach him and trusts this, since he was raised in the Temple. It’s easier to have faith when you’ve always had it and it’s never been wrong). Fourteen Jedi have tried to ask him to be their apprentice. Yoda bashed twelve of them over the head with his stick before they could and Luke turned two down himself, the last three days before his birthday. He spends his last day as a twelve-year old following his dad around, both of them a little clingier than usual. Anakin has always thought that Yoda intended to take Luke as his Padawan but he’s literally hours from aging out and he’s seriously considering comming Ashoka and begging her to come act as backup, when Luke suddenly hugs Anakin hard and quick and Anakin looks over and sees Yoda waiting in the doorway.

Anakin hugs Luke back very, very tightly and then he lets him go. Luke already has his few things packed and waiting. Yoda harrumphs at him. “Ready, you are, padawan mine?”

Luke’s smile is blinding. “Yes, Master.”

Leia talks star systems into rejoining the Republic. Luke returns the Fallen to the Jedi. Dooku is the first and most fleeting (having not been killed by Anakin) – having been betrayed and split from Sidious – Luke finds him when he’s dying and gets Yoda to him in time for him to pass them information on Sidious’ new schemes and die a Jedi, with his old master at his side. There are others, after that, who Fell during the war and didn’t think they could ever return from it. Luke, bright and shiny and full of faith, sees them, thinks, I can fix this, and brings them home one by one.

After the second Return, which is unavoidably public, Leia and Obi-Wan look at each other and enlist everyone they can to begin working to make Luke the new poster boy for the Order. Luke is intensely embarrassed by this and a bit bumbling and shy about it, which just makes it more attractive to everyone. It also keeps the spotlight well away from their rebuilding efforts, which are way easier when there’s less press exposure.

Sidious, who would still like to capture and corrupt the twins, eventually stops trying with Luke because there’s only a 50/50 anyone he sends after him will come back and between years of Yoda’s training (ie dodging his stick), Luke’s innate Force sense and his dumb luck he’s practically impossible to kill.

Everyone predicted Leia would eventually leave the order to follow in her mother’s footsteps but the SCANDAL that erupted when she married a former smuggler had the gossip rags going for years. Because circumstances sometimes change, but the Force will always find a way for certain absolutes. They have one son, and adopt several wayward young people along the way. 

Anakin is delighted by his grandson for all that he’s sad that he couldn’t share him with Obi-Wan, who passed just before he was born. Ben would follow his grandfather around like a baby duck and hated sharing him with the other younglings. He’d get so angry when he felt Anakin was giving the other children more attention than him. Anakin would gently explain that he couldn’t play favorites, but Ben would still react with anger and find a place to pout alone. 

He is five when he finds a nice secluded spot in the gardens, barely visible from the main path. A fountain sits in the center and Ben lets out his frustration by throwing small stones into it. He doesn’t notice Mace until he sits down right next to him and says “I like to come here too, when I’m angry.”

Ben is startled at first. Though he’s still small and largely untrained, no one has ever really snuck up on him before. He’s also never heard a master admit to being angry before. When questioned, Mace answers that everyone gets angry sometimes. The Jedi way isn’t the eradication of emotion, but the control of it. He brings Ben back to Anakin, who apologizes to the aging master for troubling him, but Mace dismisses the apology and tells him it was no trouble at all. Anakin glances sideways at Mace; they don’t always agree on things, but he can’t help but smile. It has been decades since Master Windu last took a padawan. 

As Ben grows older he excels in his lessons. He’s smart, persistent, and so, so powerful in the Force. He’s the very top of his class, and the only one who has yet to be chosen by a master. He still goes to the fountain when he finds himself at war with his emotions. Usually he meditates alone for a while until he is able to calm down, but sometimes, when he feels particularly lost, Master Windu will show up. At these times Ben will often ask for advice, but sometimes they will simply sit together in silence. 

Ben is desperate the day before he turns 13. He doesn’t understand how he could work so hard and not be noticed by a single master in the entire temple (which isn’t true, nearly everyone knows Ben Solo and can feel the pull of the Force around him. They also know they were not meant to guide him). He almost, almost comms his uncle and begs to take him as his padawan, but ultimately doesn’t because he knows how Luke follows the Force and if he were going to take him, he would have a long time ago. (Luke is busy anyway; a small girl in the outer rim is about to turn 3.) 

He goes out to the fountain to watch the sun set. The next day he’ll go before the Council of Reassignment to be placed into a division of the Jedi Service Corps. He supposes it wouldn’t be so bad to be placed into the Exploration Corps, he’d see much of the galaxy that way. He sits and plans and wills himself to not cry. After all, the Jedi way isn’t the eradication of emotion, but the mastery of it. 

Master Windu is still able to sneak up on him even though he’s doing so with a cane these days. Ben once held the hope that maybe the old master would take him as a padawan, but everyone knows Mace doesn’t take padawans anymore. His work on the Council is too important and he can’t give his precious time to a student, no matter what sort of strange bond has formed between them over the years. They sit for a moment before Ben breaks the silence. “What do you think my chances are of being assigned to the Exploration Corps?”

Mace seems to ponder the question for a moment. “Your scores in xenolinguistics is very high. You’ve also done very well in your survival field tests. You’d be a credit to the ExplorCorps.” He pauses for a moment. “Is that what you want to to do?”

Ben doesn’t give a straight answer, “It’s an honor,” he swallows the lump in his throat, “to be a part of the Service Corps.”

Mace sighs. “For someone who feels the Force so acutely, you have so little faith in it.” Ben winces. “Your patience leaves a lot to be desired. And you never really let go of anything.”

Ben is shaking. Of course. It doesn’t matter how well he does in his studies when the fundamentals of the ways of the Force is where he has always failed. He could never be a true Jedi. But it feels like the rawest betrayal when Mace says, “You can’t go into the Exploration Corps, Ben. Being left to drift through the galaxy unguided would be disastrous for you. You’d be very susceptible to the Dark Side if left alone.”

Ben’s eyes feel wet. He knows that too, though he’s never confessed to any of the masters about it. He was stupid to think he could hide it, though. The masters probably felt the Dark Side around him and rejected him outright. A bitter voice inside him resents them for dragging it out for so long. 

Then he feels a warm hand on his shoulder. “I’m not afraid of the Dark, Ben. And you shouldn’t be either.” In spite of Master Windu’s gentle tone, Ben can’t bare to look at him. “Self mastery is a life long pursuit that no one ever really accomplishes. You have to take it day by day, even I’m still learning. You have everything you need, you just have to remember that it is a choice you must make and commit to every day.”

Ben sniffs. “Yes, Master.” But when Ben looks up at Mace, he doesn’t see the cold face of a stern teacher or the disappointment of an unsatisfied elder. He doesn’t even see the sympathy that everyone has been directing towards him as he got closer and closer to his 13th birthday. Instead there is warmth and fondness.

“However,” he continues, “it’s not a path you need to travel alone. At least not at first… if you’ll have me as your master.”

Ben lunges at Mace and hugs him tight. “Do you really mean it?” 

Mace huffs a short laugh and ruffles the boy’s hair. “I’m too old to say things I don’t mean.” He pulls away. “But Ben, are you sure? I’m not the easier teacher.”

Finally able to hope again, Ben gives his master (his master!) a grin. “I’m not the easiest student!” 

Most of the children were adopted out, but this one boy wasn’t. The reviewers found him to be strong in the Force, but some of the Council were worried about him - he was easily distracted, because he was constantly afraid of what was going to happen to him.

That first night, he lay in his bunk, in greater luxury than he’d had at Starkiller Base, and cried in terror after lights out. It was the first time he’d been alone in a room for, as far as he could remember, his entire life. He was alone, and terrified, and wondered what he’d done to be punished like this.

The door slid open, and the Training Master looked in. “Excuse me,” Anakin Skywalker, aged but smiling, looked in. “I sensed you in the Force. What’s wrong?”

The boy, who had been FN-2187, and named Finn, curled up. “’m scared.”

Anakin entered the room, closing the door, and sat down on the floor. He drew on the floor for strength and relief in his creaky joints, and smiled the smile that fifty years of younglings had learned to trust. “It’s okay. It can be scary.”

“Jedi don’t get scared.”

Anakin laughed, softly. “Oh, no, we do. But it’s not being scared that’s important. It’s what you do when you’re scared. A Jedi knows how to focus past the fear, and what fear does to you, and listen to the Force. Let me show you.” And in that moment, Anakin hears the voices of Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon Jinn and Mace Windu and Yoda in his mind, all of them saying the same thing: “There you go again, Anakin.”

When Finn is thirteen, he becomes Anakin’s padawan, because of course he would, after Anakin’s first lesson, and then his time teaching that first meditation exercise to the new younglings, helping them the way he was helped, showing the compassion that was at his core. If Anakin is Dad, now they have their big brother Finn, who knows how scary it was and how one good moment can help you feel not so alone, not so scared, and how to find where you fit in.

When the time comes that Anakin must step down from active duty because he’s too old, too frail, to keep going, Finn is gobsmacked to be told he will take Anakin’s place.

And he always, always, has a bit of candy hidden in his belt, because he knows a dozen ways to calm a crying child and believes a little bit of candy is a good distraction while he figures out the best one.

Useful advice from Edward Teach