#my mom is.... better? about it?

[thegempage]

clicked around on my last stream since i was already looking over something on my twitch about and realized you can 100% hear my mom misgender me toward the end there lmao

[lygma-nygma]

Being a batfam fan is funny because people will make a post like “here’s my headcanon-“ and it’s just something that’s directly canon to the story then post about major canon events and get everything wrong.

[rottengurlz]

she’s like if the virgin mary smoked a pack of pall malls every day 🚬

[ryllen]

sebek, you, & fae trap that tried to abduct u

[autoraton]

same as it never was.

[lunar-years]

Three people coming together to maximize their joint slay…

[leupagus]

On Voting in America

So one of the most profound comments on routine chores that I've ever encountered was, hilariously, the Pickle Rick episode of "Rick & Morty," where (after a lot of shenanigans have already ensued) this therapist absolutely lays Rick out:

"I have no doubt that you would be bored senseless by therapy, the same way I'm bored when I brush my teeth and wipe my ass. Because the thing about repairing, maintaining, and cleaning is: it's not an adventure. There's no way to do it so wrong you might die. It's just work. And the bottom line is some people are okay going to work and some people, well, some people would rather die. Each of us gets to choose."

I think about this at least once a week — usually while I'm doing my laundry or sweeping or some other task that needs doing and won't get me anything more than clean clothing or a dog-hair-free floor. There's no Pulitzer for wiping down your microwave or scrubbing your toilet; no one's awarding you for getting all the dishes out of the sink. At best you have the satisfaction of crossing it off your list.

Voting is very much the same (and I'm talking about the US here, as an American). Sure, you sometimes get a sticker; but nobody's going to cheer for you. There's no adventure here, no potential for anything more than crossing something off of a list. It's a chore, something that needs doing in order to repair, maintain, and yes even clean. So I get why people don't like doing it.

And I've decided I don't give a shit.

Do it anyway. Your country takes astonishingly little from you — taxes, the once-in-a-blue-moon jury duty, and a theoretical draft that hasn't been used in over half a century and likely will never be again — but it asks you (asks! not requires! not demands!) to vote once or twice a year. It's not always easy; especially in conservative states, the impediments to vote can be ridiculous. But it is once a year and unlike in our nation's all-too-recent past, you will not die if you do it.

In fact, the worst outcome from voting these days is that the person or issue that you vote for loses — but you won't know if they lose until after the election. Polls are less accurate now, for a whole host of reasons; you cannot know until after the election who or what will win. This makes your vote more valuable than possibly ever before.

Use that power. Not because it's exciting or even rewarding, but because your vote is what keeps our country's metaphorical teeth from falling out and our metaphorical ass from stinking.

Brush, wipe, vote.

[borderlinereminders]

We like to say how it's okay to say "no" and it really is. It is so okay to say "no" and I really like the helpful reminder.

I just want to say though that sometimes, we've weighed the consequences and decided that saying "yes" when we don't want to is better for us for whatever reason. And I just want you to know that it doesn't mean you're a failure. It doesn't mean you're weak. It doesn't mean you aren't allowed to be bothered by doing what you're saying "yes" to.

Sometimes it isn't safe for us to say "no". Sometimes there might be consequences that have to do with our job, living situation or any other number of negative things.

While you have the right to say "no", it's okay if you've decided that it isn't what best for you for you in a situation.

[starry-bi-sky]

Stuck in the middle of a forest made of

Flesh and bones and they're all scared of

A lost little boy who has lost his heart

Fear's not enough, they have to

Tear him apart —-------

There are two things Daniel Fenton knows that his family knows as well: 

He’s adopted.

He can’t remember anything else before that.  

‘Adoption’ is a loose term, implying that they went through the official legal processes and troubles of adopting a child into their home willingly, and with the full intention of doing so going into it. That is not what happened. What happened is that Jasmine Fenton found a half-dead child, in strange clothing, in the middle of the woods at her Aunt Alicia’s cabin, and then she went and got her parents. 

What happened is that a twelve year old Danny woke up in the same cabin, wearing clothes much too big on him that didn’t belong to him, and with very little memory of before that moment. He wakes up like a spring being set loose, sitting up so fast he scares the daylights out of Jasmine Fenton sitting next to him. He wakes up, reaching for his sleeve for something that isn’t there, and when it isn’t his mind stutters, like he’s tripped at the top of a steep hill. 

When they ask him for his name, he tells them, clearing muddled thoughts from his mind; Danny. He’s twelve.

(He thinks that’s his name, at least. It sounds right; it feels right. If he thinks really hard about it, he thinks he can remember someone calling him that, utter adoration in their voice. So it must be his name.) 

The Jasmine girl convinces her parents to take him home with them, and they give him the spare guest room upstairs. He has nothing to fill it with.

It’s… a strange experience, to go to a ‘new’ home when he doesn’t even remember his old one. 

The official adoption process… happens. He can’t say it’s easy, or difficult. He’s oblivious for the most of it, Jasmine intends on helping him settle in and Danny can’t say he enjoys the smothering. He learns that he is stubbornly self-independent, that’s one new thing he knows about himself. 

His adoption papers say ‘Daniel J. Fenton’. Danny remembers staring at the name ‘Daniel’ for a long, long moment, something curdling sour in his sternum. His name is Danny, that he knows. But it’s not Daniel. But he doesn’t know any other way of saying it, so he keeps his complaints to himself.

(Jack Fenton boisterously claps his hand on Danny’s shoulder and jerks him around, grinning wide as he welcomes him into the Fenton Family. Danny’s mind blanches at the touch on his shoulder, an instinct snapping like the maw of a snake, telling him to cut off the man’s fingers for daring to touch him.) 

(He keeps the thought to himself, tension rising up his shoulders the longer Jack Fenton’s heavy hand stays on him.) 

They found Danny in the summer. It’s a perfect coincidence, Maddie Fenton says before she goes back into her lab with Jack Fenton. She says it’s enough time to allow Danny to adjust; that they’ll enroll him into the school year in the fall. Then she stuffs a canister of ectoplasm onto the top shelf, and disappears like the ghosts she studies back down the stairs.  

(There’s something eerily familiar about the ectoplasm sitting in the fridge, something unsettlingly so. Danny knows what that stuff is, but he doesn’t know where. When the house is empty, he takes a can from the fridge and inspects it.)

Jazz wants him to leave the house. Danny doesn’t want to step foot outside of the FentonWorks building until he has something that quells the feeling of vulnerability he gets whenever he does. He tried to once, and he felt exposed. Unsafe. 

He turned back around and went inside.

—-------

Where do we go

When the river's running slow

Where do we run

When the cats kill one by one

—------

One day, when the house is empty — or, as empty as it can be; the Fenton parents down in the lab, and jazz out with friends. Danny is making a sandwich, and he caves into the urge to flip the knife in his hands between his fingers. A childish impulse, but one he falls for nonetheless. It comes to him easily, like second nature, in fact. The slip of the blade between his fingers is seamless, flowing with an ease like water running down the wall.  

He’s almost startled by it; his body holds memories that his mind does not. Muscles that know which way to move and twist, limbs that know how to hold and how to throw. He continues twirling it, fascinated, as if he were a scientist discovering a new species of animal. 

It’s not for a handful of minutes when a new thought hits him; an impulsive thought that pops in the back of his mind like a firecracker; Danny moves without thinking. 

He turns, and throws the knife. The pull of his shoulder, the flick of his elbow, is familiar like a hug. He knows when to let go, and the blade flies through the air in impressive speed, embedding itself into the wall with a hearty, loud thunk. Sinking into the drywall like butter. 

Danny stares at it in shock, he feels relieved — about what? — before he feels the guilt. He scrambles across the kitchen to pull it out, heart racing in his chest at being caught, and prays no one notices the hole it left behind. 

(He runs up the stairs before anyone can find him, food forgotten, and hides the knife beneath his mattress like a guilty murder weapon.)

After that, he leaves the house more. It’s more out of fear of being caught than the desire to leave. But Danny is quickly learning that among all things, he is someone who was dangerous, before he lost his memory. Even with his mind in fractures, he is still dangerous. 

He’s not sure how to feel about that — he thinks he should be scared. He feels a little proud, instead.

—------

Hazel beneath our claws

While we wait for cerulean to cry

Unsettled ticks run through time

Enough for the hunt to go awry

—-----

There’s another thing he learns about himself. That he knows about since he woke up. He knows that he left someone behind. He doesn’t know who, but he knows they must have been close; he’s always looking down and finding himself surprised when the only shadow he sees is his own. 

He thinks that he must have sung to them a lot; he finds himself humming familiar melodies when he’s lost in thought. Lullabies lingering at the tip of his tongue, an instinct to turn and sing them to someone beside him. He can’t remember the lyrics, but his mouth does, it tries to get him to say them when he’s not thinking. He can’t. 

Danny’s found himself humming under his breath more times than he can count, trying to recall whatever it is his mind is trying to claw forward. 

(“That’s a pretty song, Danny.” Jazz tells him at breakfast one day, Danny screws his mouth shut. He hadn’t realized he was humming. “What is it?”) 

(Something mean and possessive rears its head on instinct, uncoiling like a snake from its ball. His shoulders hunch defensively, he bites his cheek to prevent himself from baring his teeth. He doesn’t know what song it is, but it’s not for her. “I don’t know.”)  

He misses his person. Dearly. He knows, the longer he is without them, that they must have been close. Otherwise, he wouldn’t feel like he’s missing a chunk from himself. He wouldn’t be turning to someone who's not there; reaching for a hand that’s missing, birdsong on his tongue, a story to tell. 

A dream haunts him one night. Warm and familiar, he’s holding onto someone smaller than him, they’re tucked into his side like a puzzle piece. He’s humming one of his songs that is always playing in the back of his mind, an unfinished tale of a harpy and a hare. Danny can’t remember their face, not all of it. He remembers green eyes, hair dark like his own, skin brown like his. 

He loves them more than anything else in the world, a fact he knows down to his soul. He loves them so much it fills his heart with sunlight. Danny squeezes them tight, nuzzling into their hair; he makes them laugh. Then, he proudly boasts something. That when he takes something of their father’s, that his person — a sibling? That feels right — will be… the word fades from Danny’s mind before he can make sense of it. 

His person hugs him tight, his… brother? And their mother — a woman whose face he can’t remember either, but who he loves like a limb nonetheless — appears, smiling. Her hands reach for them both, voice calling them, ‘her sons’. There’s ticking in the distance, it sounds like the fastening of chains.

Danny wakes up cold, tears streaming down his face. The details of the dream already fading from his mind like the cold pull of a corpse.   

—-------

Harpy hare

Where have you buried all your children?

Tell me so I say

—-------

When school starts that Fall, Danny joins the sixth grade class, and quickly learns more things about himself. One of those things being that he’s smarter than the rest of his grade, whatever education he had before, it was better than the one he’s getting now. 

Everyone knows he’s adopted right off the bat. He tells them when the teacher forces himself to introduce himself, but it’s not like they needed him to tell them for them to know; he never existed in their little world before now, and the Fentons are pale as they come. Danny is not.

He befriends Sam Manson and Tucker Foley; they ask him about the scars fading up and down his arms, they ask him about the scar carved diagonal across his face.

Danny, as politely as he can, tells them he doesn’t remember. He thought kindness would come second nature to him, his dream burned into his mind where he hugged his brother so sweetly. Apparently, his sweetness is only second nature to people he considers his own. 

(It becomes even more apparent when Dash Baxter tries to bully him later that day, and Danny ruffles like an eagle threatened. His mind whispers, hissy and agitated, sinking like a shadow at his shoulder, several different ways Danny could kill him for talking to him like that, and fifteen more ways he could cripple him.)

(Danny ignores those thoughts, up until Dash Baxter tries to grab him. Then he breaks his nose on the wood of his desk. It’s easy how quickly the rest of his grade sinks him down to the status of social pariah.)

(At least Sam and Tucker still talk to him after that. When Danny goes to the principal’s office later, he wisely doesn’t mention the worse things he could’ve done than break Dash Baxter’s nose.)  

—--------------

It clicks and it clatters in corners and borders

And they will never

Hear me here listen to croons and a calling

I'll tell them all the

Story, the sun, and the swallow, her sorrow

Singing me the tale of the Harpy and the Hare

—-------

More dreams come, of course they do. Each one halfway to forgotten whenever he wakes up, ticking faint in his ears. He is many different ages. He is young, shorter than a table. He is older, holding onto his little brother. He is singing in almost every single one. He is singing to his brother. 

Danny can barely remember the lyrics, he’s begun leaving a journal by his bedside so that it’s the first thing he can write down when he wakes up. He’s a storyteller, he learns. He feels like a historian, trying to piece together a culture long dead and forgotten. 

His most vivid dream-like memory is not a happy one, and for once he’s almost relieved he barely recalls it. He is somewhere that isn’t home, but his mother and brother are there. He is dressed in black, blades keen in his hands. 

They are atop a moving train. They are fleeing something. His brother is struggling to keep up, he is small, and young. It’s beautifully sunny, they are somewhere green and lovely. 

It is a fast dream. 

His brother stumbles on something, and Danny, fast as a whip, snatches him by the back of his shirt and hoists him up to his feet before he can fall. “Watch your feet, habibi.” He murmurs low, a hand on his back. It’s hard to hear, there is wind in their ears.

His brother, face obscured in all but his eyes, which are green as emeralds, nods. 

The dream blurs, but Danny falls behind. His foot catches on air — impossible, it should’ve been, at least. He never trips. — and he lands against the roof with a thud and a grunt. His mother and brother stop, and turn for him. 

The train hits a turn before Danny can get up, and he shouldn’t have, something pulls on him, he swears, but he slips. He can’t find the purchase to pull himself up, cold fear hits him as his nails scrape against the metal. 

His mother and brother’s horrified faces are the last thing he sees before he disappears off the side of the train. 

(The ticking is at its loudest when he wakes up, pounding against his inner skull. He only manages to write down ‘train fall’ in his journal, before he’s flipping over to press his head into his pillow to get the pain to stop.) 

—---  

She can't keep them all safe

They will die and be afraid

Mother, tell me so I say

(Mother, tell me so I say)

—-------

When Danny is fourteen he is still humming songs he can’t remember, his mind still in a broken puzzle. But his room is now decorated with stars and plants in every corner. He has a guitar he keeps in the corner of his room, and he plays the lullabies in his head on the strings over and over again. 

The ectoplasm in the fridge still unsettles him, still reminds him of a past he can’t recall. The knife beneath his mattress has returned to the kitchen — he doesn’t need it. He found a box in the attic last year, it had his name on it, and inside he found familiar, strange clothes, and more weapons than he thought was possible to carry on one person. 

(Even without knowing that the Fentons prefer guns to blades, Danny knows, instinctively, that they were his weapons. He was — was? Is — a dangerous person. He takes the box down to his room to sort through. The weapons all fit into his callused hands almost perfectly — the grooves worn to fit his palm. They’re just a little small.) 

(He tentatively takes a small blade with him to school one day, and feels much more comfortable with it sheathed beneath his shirt. He’s kept it on him ever since, like he’s reunited a lost limb to himself.)   

Danny doesn’t have a name for his person, his little brother, nor does he have a name for his beloved mother. He’s haunted by dreams every few weeks, many of them repeating. He’s ingrained the words he can remember to memory, and the ones he doesn’t, he writes down in his journal. His little brother; Danny calls him a bird, he can’t figure out what kind. His little bird of some kind; when Danny takes something from their father — what, he can’t remember what — then his little brother will be a little bird. 

(He doesn’t have a name for his brother, yet, but he’s calling his birdie in his head. It’s better than nothing.)

—------

Seeker, do you ever come to wonder

If what you're looking for is within where you hold

Will you leave a trail for them to follow a path

You'll soon forget

Home

—---------

When he’s fourteen, Danny dies. It does nothing to fix his fractured memories, much to his consternation. It just confirms something he already knows; that he was someone dangerous, and that he still is. 

When the shock of death has worn off, Danny inspects his ghost in the metal reflection of the closest table. It’s blurry, hard to see, but shock green eyes pierce back at him, green like the portal. Lazarus, Danny’s mind whispers, and he blinks rapidly.

‘Lazarus,’ he mouths to himself. It’s familiar. Sam shows him with her phone what he looks like, joking that he looks like an assassin. Danny doesn’t think she’s that too far off. 

He doesn’t tell her that. He tucks the thought away with the rest of his secrets, and fiddles with the hood gathering at his neck, attached to a cape with torn edges swinging down to his ankles. He pulls it over his shock white hair. It shadows over his face impossibly so, until all you can see are his green-green eyes peering out like a wolf hiding in the brush.

He ends up calling himself Phantom. 

(Maybe now he can start putting lyrics to his lullabies; his memories may not have returned, locked away with the sound of a clock, but the dead can talk. One of them may just have answers.) 

----------

Home is where we are

Home is where you are

Home is where I am

-----------------

Dedicated to @gascansposts for being the one who introduced me to the band Yaelokre, and thus being the whole reason I was inspired to write this in the first place >:] Those lyrics at the line breaks are all from their album Hayfields.

[zylphiacrowley]

A Heart to Heart

<previous - next>

[iwasbored777]

I know this wasn't necessary for the movie's plot but it should've been in the movie I'm crying 😂

[palskippah]

Hi! Drew this based over a scene in Santa Clarita Diet bc Abby's relationship with her parents is so funny but also it's clear that she loves them aaa

Anyways, every once in a while Cyrus realizes that his other dad is actually cooler than he gives him credit for sjdfksj

Under the cut are some more thoughts!

-Btw I hope you get the 'of course' wink sjdkfjs

>My mom always does it whenever I ask a question that could only use a 'yes' as an answer, instead of nodding or talking and I think it's cool sjkdf (I don't use it bc I'm very uncoordinated, imagine I accidentally double wink or do the frog blink 😭)

-Cyrus is often so mean to him that whenever he's genuinely nice, sometimes Ambrosius' suspicious and wondering if he's being sarcastic or mocking him, even if Cyrus tries to tell him that it's nothing of that and he means it

>Like that scene in Santa Clarita Diet where Abby compliments her parents and they stare for a few seconds all seriously and then one says, don't listen to her honey, we did great (and it reminded me so much of that one scene in the comic with Ballister and Ambrosius sjdkfjs)

>This one:

>I really wanna redraw it like the scene in the show. Ballister going good job and Ambrosius just staring very calculating, and then going, don't listen to him, men, we DID get him >:(

-Also drew this because ever since Cyrus has been born Ambrosius couldn't help but feel that his son just knew that he wasn't a good person, the way he was always frowning at him (that's just his face, like Ballister's) and when he grows up, he seems to not like him much either pipipi

>Anyways one day (being a moody teenager) Cyrus says the typical I hate you, dad!!! D:< and locks himself in his room and Ambrosius' like, D':

>He's always mean too but that's just his teenager personality, sarcastic and stuff and Ballister doesn't take it personal because he knows his son is just like that (hopefully for the meanwhile, until he grows out of it), Ambrosius knows too but he's more sensitive and can't help taking it a bit personal 😔

-Also I got another idea for a small comic based over a kdrama I watched, where the daughter (the oldest of the two siblings) blamed herself over her dad leaving their family, and hated him for leaving too and many things, just very complicated.

>And aaa imagine Cyrus just never saying it but knowing that both of his dads' lives would've been different if he hadn't been born. Like maybe all of Ballister's plans to overthrow the Institute and stuff took longer, and some phases in his plan had to be put in hold because of him and stuff.

>Also for a while he feels like Ballister is bound to Ambrosius for life because of him (little did he know that those two would've been around each other their whole lives anyways, even if he never existed sjdkfs) then he realizes that they actually like and love each other, and then they try having something, or smth, and then he's like oh :) because seeing both of your parents loving each other and getting along is a very nice feeling (I've been told, idk from first-hand experience🧍 cries)

>Actually, I drew this unfinished thing about that, based over another scene in the kdrama I mentioned, where the daughter says, after being told that if her parents hadn't met, she wouldn't have been born, that it'd would've been for the better.

>I know the writing is terrible but Cyrus' complaining about Ambrosius and ending his rant with 'I wish they just hadn't met at all', and Nimona saying that she used to feel the same, but then realized that Cyrus wouldn't have been born, and Cyrus was supposed to say next, 'maybe that would've been better' and then Nimona doesn't answer and just stares at him wwhwh

-AND of course it's not Cyrus' fault that Ballister decided to have him, but he still has the feeling of having messed up his dad's life, and let's say that Ballister realizes for whatever reasons his feelings, connecting dots and stuff.

>So, imagine a conversation where he's saying very reassuringly, Meeting your father and later having you is one of the best things that had happened to me, or something like that. And Cyrus is resolutely not looking at him, but his eyes are getting teary, even if he feigns not acknowledging Ballister's words because how embarrassing, and how vulnerable he feels, but also he feels so relieved and loved too.

>And he doesn't know what to do with the feelings, also being a teenager with no feelings is his thing, y'know, so he's like, Just so you know, I'm not crying over what you said, I don't care about that, something just got in my eye- and Ballister just smiles because his son is terrible at communicating his feelings, but it's okay and he gets it, and just says, of course, let me get it out for you, and then he wipes Cyrus' tears and Cyrus gets a tad bit more teary but it's fine because his dad doesn't mind wiping some more tears wiwiiw

>(projecting so much into him bc when I watched that one scene in the show I cried bc I've felt the way the protagonist did (now I know better tho, I'm the coolest thing to happen to my mom yippiee) and it's a very ugly feeling, so of course I'm giving it to a character whwehw)

Anyways, that's it! I love them so much, I hope to make some more comics about the thingies I said above sjkdfd

[sleep-nurse]

hey, everyone. thanks for the support. i figured i might briefly explain my situation, although there's way more layers into this, the post would be way too long if i explained everything though

yesterday, after days of family troubles (or years, rather), me, my brother and my mom found out my dad died of suicide and left us with no money. we are all honestly shocked and my mom has to now find a job to survive, may i also add how she actually studied in university in russia and has all the shit to get a good job, she just doesn't have a citizenship because our dad didn't ever give a shit about giving her one in 20 years, so she has trouble finding jobs.

if you want to help in some way, my brother is taking comms and he draws dinosaurs and stuff alike, i might consider opening them too if i figure out stuff but i already stress myself with drawing for free

in the meantime i probably won't be as active as i was. i read all your messages and asks, i just really need some time to recover. thank you and i'm sorry for making you worry

[violettierre]

My haitani father Shio headcanon is just a bit too funny cuz of how well it works that it sounds like a waste of perfect canon idea and crossover for both of wakui's works.

Aside from the obvious physical features very very obvious, identical eyes, nose, blonde eyebrows, rindou's face form, ran's hair color palette and (arguably) bonten hair style, blah blah i mean just look a the pictures below, you can also bring up any fact from either manga and add it to the hc and it fits in just SO WELL, i'll give the first example, The Haitanis are very obviously rich spoiled kids like have you seen their apartment? They have a fucking dj set, only rich kids with neglective powerful parents will have no problem paying for that, just saying, and even though i love him let's be real Shio is the type to be that parent, i mean cmon he's rich like crazy rich (filthy yakuza money yum yum) he tots would give his children WAY more than enough allowance so they can leave him alone, also the way they act, i've always the Haitanis were the type of kids that think they own the school cuz their dad is rich .

Nvm if this never becomes canon or both universes don't collide, it's just so entertaining to keep connecting the dots that were likely never there, like how Rindou is a heavy drinker cuz his father drank alot with the rest of the Yotsurugis and he tried to imitate him from a young age that it became an unhealthy habit or if you want to add more drama he only drinks cuz he looks up to his father but Shio favors Ran cuz he can posssibly succeed him (canon power complex) so Rindou resorted to drinking cuz it's the only thing like his dad that he can do. Heck yeah i made it angsty!!!

You can also add great context to his fear of Yakuza, picture this, when he was a kid he got up in the middle of night after hearing a loud noise to search for his parents and witnessed Shio (canon Yakuza) pew pew-ing some poeple and surrounded with scary men, that probably scarred him for life that he was so terrified when Kakucho got them interfering with some, OH OH something just came to mind, if he's the son of a yakuza yeah he didn't wanna clash with other yakuza families cuz it can end in a blood shed and risk his and his family's lives.

And i'm gonna add this one not very small detail and i swear i'll shut up (for now), i know it's just a stupid headcanon that is very far from becoming reality and i don't have to take it this deep but hear me out, why their last name is Haitani and not Yotsurugi like their dad, Shio is powerful and have many enemies right ? So he simply decided to protect his children and their identity by giving them another last name likely their mother's (yk like minato with naruto style plan ?) So Haitani is actually their mom's family name. I rest my case. Thank you for coming to my useless ted talk.

[yuri-is-online]

Ok but how did ace even get a girlfriend in the first place? Did she confess and he just went along with it? Did he think having a girlfriend would make him seem cooler? Was it a dare or something? Cause for someone like ace to just go ghost on her and not have an actual talk, kind of makes me feel like these two were not friends before they were partners.

So then, fast forward to nrc, ace is trying so hard to lose the feelings he has for his best friend. Because that's all they are: friends, homies, if you (duece) will. Yuu has the cream of the crop to pick from, he's kind of at a disadvantage here.

Plus, whose to say their entire dynamic won't change the second they get together? He doesn't want to get bored and start to hate one of his dearest friends by proxy, so might as well just play it safe and suffer a little than take that risk and the both of you suffer a lot 🤷‍♂️.

Meanwhile yuu, who still has their old phone/mp3 player, has been playing Jenny by Studiokillers on repeat. Lying in their bed, just down horrendous for this absolute ball of boyish mischief. How dare he, honestly?

Well. At least he gives them a lot of openings to flirt with him?

*disclaimer, I was home schooled so my actual knowledge about middle school dating is beyond non-existent so take what I say with a grain of salt

The information we get about Ace's girlfriend comes from his suitor suit vignette and he does not mention how they actually got together, just some of the things that they did and how boring Ace thought all of them were. And I agree! The way they broke up does not make it sound like they were friends before dating, though they could have been casual acquaintances. The way Ace likes to goof around makes me think he was probably pretty popular, and had a lot of those types of relationships. His description of the relationship makes me think he probably went out with her because he thought she was cute and that it would be fun to have a girlfriend, but didn't actually stop to think about who she was as a person or what dating actually means. And hey, he was in middle school. He was going to be a bit stupid about those sort of things. The experience seems to have made him think a lot about what he wants in a partner, and we know from Ortho he was telling the truth when he's forced to spell it out:

His voice lines flesh out what he wants a bit more; he says he thinks it's important to find someone you have fun with and that he wants to get married later in life. So Ace knows what he wants... he just gets really embarrassed when called out on it and refuses to talk honestly about his feelings (though he kind of does that in general hehe)

So flashing forward to NRC. Ace knows what he wants and Yuu is such a perfect fit it hurts. Best friends to lovers is a popular trope in fiction sure, but in real life? At a school? Yeah right, Ace still has to see them every day if they break up, and not to mention... I feel like Ace, Deuce, Grim, and Yuu sort of fell into their dynamic almost immediately after the mine adventure and didn't ever stop to think about it because of how natural the friendship felt. And Ace knows if things end badly he's losing the whole squad, so yeah. Better to just swallow this and stay where he is. He's still in school! He doesn't need to think about dating! He's got a housewarden to surpass, upperclassmen he admires, and a bunch of idiots to take care of. He can worry about dating later. Besides, these feelings will go away after graduation he's delusional sure of it!!!

Meanwhile, back at the ranch Ramshackle Yuu is literally in a living hell. Maybe they're a bit more emotionally mature than Ace and they just know this could work out but THEY CAN'T TELL IF HE LIKES THEM BACK BECAUSE HE KEEPS GETTING SHY AND MAKING JOKES FML!!!! But like he also lets them steal his gym shirt :ccc and he gets pouty when someone else makes an offer :ccc and really smug when Yuu says no ccc: so like maaaybe? Or maybe not and this meaningless flirting is all they'll ever have and they just. Try to be ok with it and they sort of hate themselves for it.

until Sebek properly joins the friend group and looses his fucking shit

[leciraofthewilderness]

So, despite some faults, I really enjoyed totk, and on its anniversary I want to say something about it. Other people have said similar things before but it’s really important to me and actually a big part of why the story of totk was meaningful to me, so I want to also say it:

Zelda needed to come back from draconification. The story needed that. It wasn’t lazy and just ignoring “consequences” because (imo) that was the *point*

The point is to feel like there are going to be terrible consequences and then say actually, no. You can come back from this, with the help of other people.

To me at least, that was the theme of the whole story.

If botw was about how the world goes on past loss and grief and starts to heal (how flowers grow in the ruins and the world can be beautiful again, be worth saving, even if it has changed)…then totk was about a more personal kind of healing.

The weight of the world should not be on your shoulders alone…you, alone, should not have to fix everything…you should not have to sacrifice yourself, but when you do, someone will be there to save you from it.

This turned into a really long ramble so:

You (Link) gained so much and now it’s gone. It feels like you’re back to where you started and yet you know you have to do it all again…you were weak and you failed and you’re weaker now…but

You go down to the surface. Monsters swarm across it once again. Other people are fighting them too though. You help, but it’s not just you…

You go to the Rito, the Gorons, the Zora, the Gerudo…just like with the divine beasts, there are friends who help you save each region. But this time, part of them comes along with you when you leave. It’s nice, you realize, the first time one of them protects you from a monster you weren’t prepared for. You’re still weaker than you were before, but someone has your back…

When you go up to the sky you see a strange new dragon there. There’s something about them that feels familiar. You try not to think about it.

You go down to the depths too. It’s terrifying at first. You hate it. You only want to get what you came for and get out of the dark….but slowly, the light grows. You get stronger. The dark feels like a challenge you can face (and someone has your back).

There are spirits down there. You don’t know when they’re from, but some part of you wonders…are these all the people you let die in the Calamity? (You help them find rest from their wandering. The weight on your shoulders feels a little less heavy).

There’s so much gloom. The first few times the sky turns red and hands chase you (a reminder of what you’ve lost, how you failed) you just run. Eventually though, you have to fight. It feels like the (second) worst day of your life again. But you manage to get free of the grasping gloom and stand and fight, as wild and desperate as it is. Beneath the manifestation of your worst fears, there’s another thing to fight, but this time it has a face (a voice in the back of your head says…you know this isn’t all on you and your failure…it’s really Ganon’s fault right?). You get through it.

At every turn in your travels, it seems like something reminds you of Zelda. Her passion, her curiosity, her kindness. You miss her.

At first, the tears you find reassure you. She may be in the past, but she’s safe. She’ll come back somehow…but then you hear the word draconification for the first time. You want to believe she wouldn’t do it but you know her and the fear sits cold inside you. (Zelda is a lot of things. She’s been allowed to be more of them, since she was freed from her hundred year battle, without her father holding her back. But deep down inside her, there’s a vein of self-sacrifice that still runs strong. It’s what saved the world before, after all).

She did it. She really did it. She’s gone from you (from Hyrule) forever, and it’s all your fault. If only you hadn’t failed so utterly in the battle (you can hardly even call it that) under the castle. If only you’d caught her. If only you hadn’t let the sword break. You should have protected her you should have been better it’s all your fault and now she has to live with the consequences, forever. Everything really is on you, you should have been better.

(Zelda POV: you couldn’t call upon Hylia’s power in time, you were too content to let it wither and fade away from you, ready to be free of it. You shouldn’t have. He got hurt, the sword got hurt, it’s your fault…Sonia and Rauru help you channel it again, Sonia helps you learn how to turn back time…but you don’t save her. She dies because you couldn’t save her. Rauru dies not long after. There is no one left to guide you, once again. You could spend years trying to figure it out on your own. But you did that last time. It didn’t work. Self-sacrifice, stepping in front of someone you love, that worked. (You do what you can, to call upon the sages, to help Link in the future, first). And then you swallow the stone. You’ve come a long way, in the past five years, allowing yourself to exist. But in the end, self-sacrifice worked last time. It’ll work this time too.)

You (Link) go down beneath the castle. You were supposed to bring the sages but you didn’t. It’s nice, for someone to have your back. But no one else should get hurt to fix your mistakes.

They follow you anyway. They fight with you, against the hordes, against the greatest enemies you defeated together, along the way. They’ll have your back, even if you don’t think you deserve it.

You fight Ganondorf, and then the demon king, in the hardest battle of your life. You think it’s over and then the demon king decides it’s better to lose himself completely than let you win. You’re exhausted and afraid of yet another battle, but up there in the sky, when you’re falling, the Light Dragon catches you (you wonder why she changed her path to catch you, you wonder if there’s still something of Zelda left in there to save). With her help, you win.

And then you’re in some other realm. The spirits of Sonia and Rauru are there. You remember how the two of them and Zelda channeled such incredible power together. You think about Recall. Turning something back to the memory of what it was before, like Sonia said. You stand with them and you allow yourself to hope. Maybe the Light Dragon can remember the form she took so long ago, the person that she was.

And then you’re falling, and Zelda is falling, but this time you catch her. You catch her. She’s back home with you, finally, finally.

And maybe, one mistake doesn’t have to be the end of the world. You don’t have to be perfect. Sometimes, someone else can stand with you, and it’ll all turn out alright. (You can put the weight of the world on your shoulders, you can sacrifice yourself, but someone will be there to catch you, someone will be there to pull you back to yourself, when all is said and done).