#satoru with tears in his eyes and wobbling lips bc two four year olds are schooling him in emotional intelligence

[miekasa]

mie, do you have any hcs about satoru's kid(s) having to "parent" him more than he should be to them lmao

LMFAO listen, Satoru is a good dad, and his kids look up to him and follow his lead a lot—but the one thing they school him in is confronting and talking about his feelings. They’re not actively trying to council him, of course, the twins are only four afterall, but whether they realize it or not they’re a pretty good influence on him; all the “why” questions they ask lead both them and Satoru to talking about things he didn’t even think he felt or needed to vocalize :(( it’s actually kind of precious :(( even if he’s soundboarding with some kids

Like, they’re watching a movie or something together right, something they’ve seen before which is why when Satoru starts mumbling about two of the characters, the older of the twins turns right in his lap and says, “Daddy you always talk at this part.”

“No I don’t!” he quick to taunt, turning to the other twin at his side for backup, but he agrees with his brother. Satoru pouts, “Maybe, whatever. I don’t like this part.”

“Why?” the one of the left prompts, looking up at his dad. Satoru frowns; those eyes are his own, and they’re staring right into his soul.

“I just don’t,” he hums, hoping to satisfy the curious children. It doesn’t—and it doesn’t help that they’re twins, because Satoru swears they’ve got some kind of telepathic communication going on with the way they look at each other, then back at him and ask again in unison: “Why?”

“Because, they just leave Tinkerbell behind. That’s not very nice,” Satoru confesses, once again hoping his explanation satiates the twins.

The boy in his lap blinks. Satoru knows he’s in for it. “But they come back for Tinkerbell,” he reminds his father, shuffling around in his lap to rest his head against Satoru’s chest, “That’s nice, daddy.”

“But it’s not nice when they leave her,” Satoru pouts, “It wouldn’t feel good if your brother left you behind, right?”

“Oh,” the other twin gapes, “Does it make you sad?”

“No,” Satoru scoffs, but his tone is too defensive—makes the kids even more curious, and again he’s got two sets of wide eyes staring at him and asking, “Why?”

He sighs, gentler, more honest, “Maybe a little.”

A moment passes where they’re all quiet. Satoru’s not sure of what to say next, worried he might have made the twins upset, when the eldest of the two nuzzles his head against his chest and gently grabs his shirt, “I would be sad like Tinkerbell, I think—I think I’m already sad when you and mommy leave when we go to school.”

“Mommy says it’s okay to have missing feelings,” his brother pipes in.

“Your mother is right,” Satoru chimes in, a nostalgic grin forming on his lips, “We miss you guys, too. Work is not as fun as school.”

The boy by his side frowns, “You work at a school, daddy.”

Satoru chuckles, moves his arm to pat his head, “Yeah, but I work with big kids, not cute little kids like you two.”

The kid giggles under his father’s affection, and for good measure, Satoru squeezes the boy on his lap and little closer to him, too. He smiles too, wiggling around to tuft more of Satoru’s shirt into his small fist.

“Are the big kids nice?”

“Of course!” Satoru grins, “You know that—you’ve met them before. Aren’t Maki and Yuuji and their friends super nice?”

“Oh, yeah,” his son blinks; then smiles, “Yuuji is super nice.”

“Yuuji is the best,” the other twin pipes, “I like Nobara, too—and I like Toge because he gives me piggy back rides.”

“Me, too, I like Toge, too! And, and—and Yuuta because Yuuta does the best pushes on the swings.”

“Does he now?” Satoru questions with a smile.

He gets a nod of confirmation, “Yuuta is really nice. He always gives me more snack, but Yuuji is my favorite.”

“Oh? Yuuji is your favorite? Not me or mommy?” Satoru teases. Both the boys claw at him, talking over each other in exclamations of—“No, you and mommy are the best, too!” and “You’re my favorite favorite!”

He accepts the proclamations with many kisses, genuinely happy to have both his boys in his arms. Satoru kisses both of their heads before they settle back down. They’ve missed a good portion of the movie talking, but neither them seem to mind. Satoru isn’t watching much of it any more himself, busy with thinking about how he’s blessed with such perceptive and intelligent little kids.

“Daddy,” a small voice breaks through his thoughts; Satoru turns to his side, “Are you still sad?”

Satoru purses his lips. He wonders just how much they catch onto—or, perhaps, if he was never that good at hiding it to begin with.

“No,” he answers honestly, “You boys make me very happy.”

His soon looks up at him with a toothy grin. Satoru expects another question, maybe even a—“You make us happy, too, daddy!”—but nothing could have prepared him for what his son says next:

“Hey, daddy, doesn’t Nanamin look like Tinkerbell?”