Just thinking about Bakugou falling to the floor, laughing –silently, shoulders shaking– as you try to ease your son's sadness over his own dad crying in laugh at an awful drawing the kid did of you. Artistic, you called it, which made Bakugou loose it completely.
"It's ugly," your five year old son says, pouting and looking deflected.
"Oh, no, honey... it's b-beautiful!" You're trying so fucking hard not to laugh too.
At least you have the decency to hide it, trying to be as kind and gentle with your son as possible. Contrary to your husband, Bakugou Katsuki, who is almost laying on the floor, not hiding his laughs at all. The bitch.
Your son sighs in sadness. "It's good, honey, I promise. You just... You just have to keep it up, okay? If this is what you like, do it. Keep drawing and practicing until you feel good, alright?"
"But daddy is laughing..."
That makes your husband laugh louder and harder, now completely laying on the floor.
"DADDY DOESN'T KNOW ANYTHING, ANYWAY. DON'T LISTEN TO HIM!" You yell over the strenuous laugh of Katsuki, before throwing one of the pillows of the couch at him, successfully hitting him on the face.
"Do you like it, mommy?" Your son's pretty wet puppy eyes makes you melt.
"Of course I do. I'm going to put it over the fridge door, like I do with all your drawings, baby," you promise as you hug your son. He hides his face on your neck as his little arms hug you back tightly around your neck.
Your eyes found Katsuki's, who is still on the floor, crying. His eyes then find again the drawing that it's forgotten on the floor and he begins laughing again.
You are so gonna kick his ass.
But you have to admit... the drawing is funny.
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inspired by a conversation i walked past during my commute this morning
Eddie is outside when Steve arrives home from work, sitting on the front porch and waiting for their daughters’ bus to drop them off from school.
“Hey!” Eddie grins as Steve makes his way up the steps, “You’re home early.”
“Last client of the day canceled,” he replies, and he grabs Eddie’s hands to pull him to his feet and into a long kiss.
“I love you,” Steve said when he pulled away, snaking his arms around Eddie’s waist to hold him close, “So much.”
“I love you too, Stevie,” Eddie laughed, “Something happen today?”
“Not really. There’s just this guy – the guy who started at my practice last month.”
“The one you don’t like?” Eddie clarifies.
“Ed – I hate him. He came in all smug and smiling today and looked so thrilled to be there, and someone was like dude, what’s your deal? And he had the audacity to say, my wife is home with two sick kids, so…”
Eddie made a face.
“Like, don’t sound so fuckin’ proud of yourself, man,” Steve continued, shaking his head, “Whatever. Anyways, I looked at his schedule and – get this – he had one client today. At three in the afternoon. So he spent the entire day lounging around the office doing jack shit while his wife was home with a sick baby and toddler.”
“What a prick.”
“Right? Anyways, I just want to make sure you know how much I appreciate you and how you stay home with our ridiculous children while I go to work, and that I’m thinking about you guys all day, and all I ever really want is to be home with you.”
“I know you do,” Eddie tells him, because he totally does. He knows it in the way Steve’s week is about as short as it’s allowed to be, and in the way he always checks in on Eddie when he gets home to feel out the day he’d had and to give him a “night off” if he needs one.
Steve nods, and then he adds, “When I was leaving I made a whole point of saying, like, headed home to spend time with my husband and children who I adore more than anything.”
“Of course you did.”
“Kind of forgot he’s also a licensed and practicing therapist so he totally knew I was being passive aggressive.”
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i literally cannot wrap my head around the notion that there’s been a “decline” in “real art.” that music is shitty now, that books aren’t what they used to be, etc etc etc.
art is more broadly accessible than ever. it’s unbelievable. it’s divine. there’s so much art on this planet right now that i could pile it all up on a plate and devour it for the rest of my life without making a dent. denigrating the “quality” of “today’s art” is like ordering a three course meal at your favorite restaurant and complaining about a food truck on the other side of town
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Eddie's first dinner with Dad Steve and his kiddo
Steve: hold on we have to say grace
Eddie, knowing damn well Steve isn't religious: wut
Steve, giving him a stink eye: just hold hands and get with the program
Kiddo: Dear Lucy, today was a pretty good day. I got to meet Eddie and play with a stray kitten. Tell the farmer thank you for our dinner and thank you for the sun. Also if you could please, please, please give Brady Hagan head lice I would really be grateful. We all just need a break ya know? Anyways, amen.
Eddie, stunned and befuddled: Lucy?
Steve, tucking into his plate, clearly indicating that this is a routine occurrence: Lucille Ball (he says like it's not the most insane thing he could have said) she was a little obsessed with that show and when she found out Lucille Ball had died she was... inconsolable so I had to get creative.
Eddie, smiling wider and wider: uh-huh. And the farmer?
Kiddo: uh, the farmer that takes care of all the animals when they die, duh.
Steve, like an asshole: yeah Eddie, duh.
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