in light of tedtrent becoming so real, im also jumping on the tedtrent epilogue 😊
there's just no way ted wouldn't keep in touch with the others (and have weekly zoom meetings just like in the christmas special) and I just love the thought of the whole team having reunions once in a while.
and going back to trent's arc in s3, the sunflowers conversation, "And your daughter?" "She's never been happier." I think it could go the same for ted.. we've never really properly saw how henry felt about his dad being in london, it's always other people that told ted his son misses him, who's to say henry would rather see his dad happy because that in turn would make him happy too? he was there to win the whole thing, right? I just know ted’s story isn’t done yet when he still hasn’t learned to let others take care of him in return and who else to pair him with than the man who blew up his career because a man was nice to him (and also because they were so. so cruel for the fakeout tedbecca scenes for that finale) 🥺
I'm no writer so just pretend these are snapshots of a slow burn fic where ted visits london for their team reunion and slowly realizes that trent has a crush on him and they kiss about it 💛
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hmm okay but like imagine. springtrap is in every sort of pain you can imagine daily. physical, emotional, spiritual, mental, and he spent 30 years trapped in a broom closet so bro is probably very mentally unstable. so like. imagine how he would feel upon receiving affection for the first time in all those years. i think his brain would explode. all this agony that he walks around with daily, and then one day hes given a hug and the gentle press of another person against him. holding him. makes him feel sturdy even though he's basically falling apart. maybe a quiet remark of fondness particularly stabs him in the chest. i mean, he would come undone. he hasnt felt good like this in years.
he wouldnt be able ta get enough of this good feeling. seeking out physical affection whenever he can, even when its just from brushing past each other or fingertips lingering for a split second. always needing ta be near. finding solace in being an arms length away. the praise he would try ta draw out. "hey look at this thing i did i truly am the best at this sort of thing," the way he would cherish being spoken about in any positive manner. just the way it would feel so good ta have someone give him some much needed attention and praise. and ta feel such positive emotions abt and around them in return. the way that even with all the agony he experiences he is blessed to be afforded a single break from all of it. if only for a moment, to feel it all melt away...
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this is sort of pathetic, but when you were younger, you were sort of puzzled by the cartoon representations of fathers: how a kid would be outside with a mitt, waiting to play catch.
it's not that your father never played catch with you, but you also didn't like when he did. something about a hard ball coming quickly towards your face doesn't seem exciting. not that you'd ever say you don't trust him. you trust him, right?
it's not like he never tried to teach you anything. or never tried to parent. on rare days, a strange person would walk in your father's skin. bright, happy, magnificent. this version of your father was so cheerful and charismatic that you would do anything to keep him. and this is the version of your father that would laugh and gently coax you try again. this is the version of your father that would break down the small elements of a problem and point them out so you have an easier time with them.
as a kid, those days happened more often. but somewhere around 11, you started being too much of a person, and he was often cross about it. when he'd try to sit you down to learn something, you spent the whole time with your shoulders around your ears, nervous, uncertain. terrified because you didn't immediately understand how to navigate something. worried you will run out of his goodwill and then you will have the Other Father back, and you will have ruined a good day for your entire family. something about you being visibly afraid - it just made him angry. he would accuse you of not wanting to learn and storm away.
on tv, it's not like there's a lot of versions of men-who-are-mostly-fathers. they can be good dads, but usually their stories are not told in the household. so it's normal that your father is there, but he's never around. you know he was in the house, somewhere, it's just not that you guys ever... "hung out". he just seemed to get kind of bored of you, annoyed you weren't made in his perfect image. frustrated with how much energy it took to raise a kid. over time, you kind of adopt a bittersweet band around your throat - he knows nothing about me. he says at least i never abandoned my family.
and it's technically - technically - true. he was there for you. sometimes he even made an effort and made it to the big moments; the graduations and the dance recitals. he grins and tells everyone that he taught you. it almost erases the days in between, where he complains because you need a ride to school. the weeks that go by where he doesn't actually ever speak to you. the times you say i am struggling and he says figure it out on your own. i can't help you.
and that's fine! that's all fine. you can call him if you are having a problem with your car. or if you need a ride to the hospital. he loves playing hero, he just doesn't like the actual work that comes with being a father. and you've kind of made your peace with that; because you had to, because you don't want to live your life like he does; the whole world at a managed distance, a little rotating and controlled orb he can witness and take credit for but never truly love.
as an adult, you are rewatching some dumb cartoon - and again, the child standing in the rain, with a mitt, waiting for their father to come play catch. as an adult, there's this strange creeping dread - this little thing? this little thing, and their dad can't even show up for that? oh god, holyshit, it's not about the mitt, is it. oh god, holyshit, your father spent most of your life leaving you hanging.
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