Does it ever make you a little crazy insane thinking about how Jesper and Wylan both have these gaping absences in their families, these needs that haven't been met for years, but as their stories become parallel, they find exactly what they need in each other's lives?
Because okay, hear me out, Jesper couldn't save his mom, nor can he ever bring her back, but he was able to help Wylan save his mom. His mom who was supposed to be dead. He was able to help bring her back in a way that he will never able to do for his own mom. And no, she'll never be Aditi, but I think she'll grow to love him as a son-in-law.
Wylan, meanwhile, lost his father's love at a young age. He will never be good enough for Jan, because Jan refuses to love or accept him as he is. But Colm, Jesper's father who loves him, who only wants the best for his son, meets Wylan when he's easily at his lowest point in life, when he's wrapped up in crime and scandal, and what does he say? "I think you’d be good for [Jesper]." And that means everything.
Jesper and Wylan don't just complement each other as a couple, their lives thread together like stitches closing long open wounds.
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It's unreal. The light is streaming in through the windows, the curtains still drawn to block out the midday heat, tinging their living room in golden hues that match so well with the light grey fabric of their new sofa.
Eddie should probably snap out of it and head over to the windows, open the curtains and let the light in, and with it the warmth and fresh air of a surprisingly wonderful day.
It's March, he hears the echoes of Steve's giddy voice a week or two ago. Everything's better in March.
Eddie didn't agree then, and he's not sure he agrees now, but he must admit there is something magical about this moment.
Still he remains rooted to the spot, leather jacket heavy on his shoulders, his hands hidden in the sleeves of it, just in case this really is a dream. Just in case someone will come in and snap him out of it, take away their couch and leave an eviction notice.
It's dumb. But Eddie doesn't deal well with things that are unreal. Things that he knows aren't meant for him. Things that he knows he only gets in this one play-through of his life, while millions of other Eddie Munsons are out there in parallel universes who never get to even lay eyes upon a couch this nice. Let alone buy it. From their own real adult money.
It's a corner sofa, the fabric light grey, and he remembers it being harder than it looks. Solid. Just perfect for both their fucked up backs, scar tissue pulling if they sit wrong for too long, phantom pain and muscle aches coming in hot when all they want is to just relax and enjoy a lazy evening.
Eddie bites his lip, trailing his eyes along the pristine fabric, the pillows lining the back of it, the flawless stitches keeping everything in shape.
They have a couch now. A sofa.
It's so fucking unreal.
He drops to the floor right then and there, sitting with his back against the wall, and never once taking his eyes off their sofa. It feels important to look at it for a while. It feels important to wait for Steve. It feels... It feels like maybe he'll ruin everything if he goes and sits on it now.
And it feels really fucking big.
At some point he hears the front door opening, their lock going so smoothly now that Steve fixed it with some graphite, and the sound makes Eddie smile. That's another thing that's unreal. The key barely making any noise, the lock not rattling, the door not creaking and cracking. Eddie pulls a strand of hair between his lips, the smile feeling too silly for this room, for this home, for everything he gets to have now.
For all the tiny things that matter now. All the tiny things he gets to have, turning the key's smooth slide into an allegory of everything he ever wanted but never dared to hope for.
The slide of curtains, the click-click-click of the window handle being turned to let the air in. The breeze of fresh spring air dancing around his nose.
It's all a little much. It's so fucking addicting.
And then Steve. Socked feet coming to a stop beside him, a hand landing in his hair, a voice that's so endlessly warm and fond and maybe a little worried sounding from above him, "Hi, angel."
"Hi," Eddie says, tearing his eyes away from their couch to meet Steve's. The sunlight from the windows hugs him, making him glow. Eddie smiles. He smiles and smiles and never wants to stop.
Steve hums as he leans down to press a kiss to his forehead, and Eddie weaves his arm through Steve's legs, holding onto his knee.
Everything feels a little less silly now. Like every time Steve doesn't question his little moments of sitting on the floor and just staring at things.
"We have a couch now," Eddie says, because it feels important to point out. Because Steve isn't looking at it.
"We do," he hums. "I got the call earlier. Thanks for helping with that, baby."
Eddie nods again, leaning his cheek against Steve's knee and trailing the couch again with his eyes. It looks brighter now that the curtains don't turn the room into something out of a sepia-type movie anymore.
Steve's hands comb through his hair, massaging his scalp a little with his nails. It's nice. It's warm. It's pretty.
And it's so unreal.
"I'm twenty-four," Eddie says then, and some part of him wants to carve that into the fabric. He won't. But maybe he should carve it somewhere else. "And I own a couch. It's a little crazy."
Steve comes to sit down beside him, their shoulders pressed together and he links their hands, resting them in his lap after a brushes a kiss to Eddie's knuckles.
"Why's it crazy, angel?"
He shrugs, resting his head on Steve's shoulders and curling into his warmth some more.
"Most of my life I never thought either of those would happen, y'know."
Another hum, followed by another kiss to the crown of his head. Another smile.
"But you did it," Steve whispers. "You made it. And we've got a couch now."
"We've got a couch now."
Saying it out loud doesn't make it feel any realer. It only makes his heart race and his eyes prick.
"I love you," he says, finally looking away from pretty grey fabric to meet prettier hazel eyes. "I love you so much."
Steve leans in, kissing the tip of his nose. "I love you. Thank you for buying a couch with me."
And it occurs to Eddie then that Steve understands him. Sitting there on the floor with him, hearing his words and listening to those unsaid, understanding Eddie on such a fundamental level that it should be scary. And it is, sometimes.
But he's not scared now. Because they have a couch. And they have pretty curtains that keep the light outside and still turn the room into something magical. And they have a lock that only needed a bit of graphite to let the keys glide smoothly.
And they have each other.
They stay on the floor until Steve's stomach growls, and they eat dinner with their backs against the couch and Eddie's feet in Steve's lap. They hold each other close after dinner, just breathing each other in as the breeze blows around them.
In the end, Eddie is the first to sit on the couch, with Steve standing between his legs and giving him a scalp massage in silence. In the end, Eddie buries his face in Steve's stomach to hide the tears, and Steve lets him.
Because this is real. And he gets to have this. They both do.
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Ok im back to thinking about 2003 Mikey and Splinter’s dynamic…
I think the biggest rift(?) in their relationship might be the miscommunication of which role is needed at that precise moment, and the other unknowingly taking up the wrong role (the “roles” being father vs teacher for Splinter, and son vs student for Mike)
Like in Touch and Go, Splinter takes Mikey out on a 1-1 with him to train him. He tells Mikey that he “has a natural affinity for the martial arts, but mentally [his] mind is undisciplined and unruly.” Splinter is looking to make this into a teaching lesson, but Mikey counters him with “I’m a teenager, sensei. Undisciplined and unruly is what we do best.” Which to me sounds more like a son talking to their dad than a student to their teacher (I know Mikey calls Splinter “sensei” but as a homeschooled kid, it gets hard to distinguish the roles and I totally get where Mikey is coming from).
Or in Grudge Match, after learning Mikey will have a rematch with the big ugly purple guy, he asks Splinter to train him. Splinter mocks Mikey, bringing up all the ways Mikey has excused himself from training - pizza, comics, tv. Mikey is looking for a teacher and Splinter is handling it more as a father would (i.e. letting your kids mess up and deal with the consequences, which I’ll point out isn’t a bad parenting tactic as long as it’s relatively safe for the kid, and at the time Splinter thought it was safe because they didn’t know the magic safety spells were gonna be sabotaged).
You do get gems like in the Big Brawl, when Splinter and Mikey were meant to fight, but Splinter sees how much Mikey is enjoying this and gives up his spot for his son. I think that’s a good example of Mikey as a son needing a father more than a teacher, and Splinter fulfilling that role. As a teacher, even if Splinter still gave up his spot, he likely would have still fought Mikey for a bit to train him further. Instead, he lets Mikey save his strength and gives up the spot.
(Those were all the examples I could think up off the top of my head but if you can think of more, share)
By no means is their relationship without flaws, which is realistic and i love that about it. I’m just a sucker for parent-kid relationships and I would have loved to see more of this, or even better, have them address it because I’ll bet I’m not the only one who can relate.
Anyway this is definitely something I’m putting in all my writing.
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