#michael_

Rain patters against the large windows, racing down from their placements, as if desperate to reach the ground. Snowchester rarely got rain, however with the arrival of Summer drying up the majority of the snow, it was finally warm enough for the droplets to remain instead of becoming snowflakes. Of course, it was still chilly due to being right next to an arctic biome, which sent gusts of frigid air into the trees, rattling their branches and dropping snow from them on to the ground. Summer was always nice, because it was never swelteringly hot unlike other locations, but it still brought life to the fragile ground and heavy rain.

Steam rises from the kettle methodically, increasing soon enough, and finally the kettle clicks and the steams returns to exiting slowly. Tubbo’s hand curls around the handle of the kettle and brings it to his teacup, which is decorated with small vines painted on by hand- it was a gift from Tommy, since Tommy loved creating for his friends, even if he’d stubbornly deny it if you brought it up to him. He sets the kettle back down into place and pours some milk in, along with two scoops of fresh honey into the liquid, watching as it dissolves and dips below the tea. He sets it gently on to a tray, along with some cookies that he’d baked yesterday with Ranboo and Michael.

He lifts the tray up in his hands and creeps out of the kitchen, not wearing his heavy boots anymore, which was saved for the harsh cold months. He pauses beside a bookshelf and reaches up carefully, his fingers curling around a book with a red and gold cover. He carries it under his arm and continues his journey across the mansion. Finally, after a long walk through hallways and up flights of stairs, he comes to a room. Sliding the door open ever so gently, he smiles. A tiny bed sits in the corner of the room, with fuzzy blue blankets covering the sleeping piglin child, Michael. With caution to avoid the toys scattered on the floor, Tubbo sits near the bed on a plump cushioned chair, setting his tray down on his lap. He takes his cup and sips from it, the hot but sweet mixture flowing into his mouth. He gulps slowly, savouring the taste of every mouthful he gathers. Finally, he sets the cup down on to the tray once more, turning to his book. It was in good condition despite how old it was, and the protagonists were painted on to the cover of it. He gently brushes his thumb along the pages, not yet opening it, but feeling the texture with such a delicacy that it was like it would fly away if he pressed any harder.

The blankets shift and he lifts his head to look at what had caused the movement. A puzzled smile crossed his lips as Tommy’s golden hair suddenly peeked out from under the blanket, catching his eyes. He laughs at Tommy’s face turning red.

“What are you doing here?” He’s still giggling even when asking this, having to put the book down a moment so he didn’t accidentally drop it and spook Michael.

“I’m not the only one,” Tommy mumbles. Sure enough, Ranboo’s head also rises out from under the blanket, and Tubbo keeps conscious of where his eyes are and where Ranboo’s are.

“Hey, Tubbo,” Ranboo greets with a sheepish smile, along with a tiny wave.

“You two still haven’t answered me: why are you both here?” Tubbo lightly wipes his hands along the bottom of his shirt, feeling the soft fabric between his fingers.

“Well, y’see, Michael really wanted us to come cuddle him. We’d been playing with him while you were busy, and then he got tired, so we decided to bring him to bed and he begged us to stay,” Tommy rambles, glancing to the still peacefully asleep Michael.

Ranboo nods with what Tommy says and adds on, “also, his bed is really comfy anyways, so we just couldn’t help it.”

Tubbo nods but he’s still snickering. Tommy and Ranboo glance away from him, and Tommy mutters under his breath about how annoying Tubbo is, but he’s trying to fight the smile that creeps up on his face. Neither had seen Tubbo this genuinely happy in a long while, so although they pretended to hate it- because they were being laughed at- they were so happy themselves.

Tubbo finally stops. “Would you two like it if I tucked you both in then? And read you a bedtime story?” He gestures to the book on the side. Ranboo nods, but Tommy takes time to consider it. Finally, though, he yawns and nods.

“Yeah, sure, why the fuck not?” Tommy lays back down and so does Ranboo. Tubbo tucks them in with the blanket up to their chests, then stamps a kiss on Michael’s head- the other two weren’t fans of affection.

He clears his throat and rests back into his chair, grabbing the book off from the side. He slowly opens it and begins to tell the story inside, occasionally pausing to look up at the two. His story that he chose today was about the main protagonist being stranded due to a storm collapsing his ship and separating him from his father. He meets another person, and together they work to achieve both of their goals, their friendship slowly growing over time.

Finally, he peeks up from the page he was on, light snoring heard from Tommy. Ranboo gave gentle warbles and his eyes were closed, too. Tubbo smiles and bookmarks the page he was on, standing. He ensures that the blanket is tucked up on all of them fairly, then exits the room and flicks the light off. He carries his tray back, which is now empty, and puts it on the side of the sink. He’ll wash it later.

He yawns and stretches his arms above his head, feeling his joints pop satisfyingly. The storm outside was still heavy, and the calming tap, tap, tap of rain against the windows was the only noise that accompanied Tubbo through the house, until he reached his own room.

A good one. One that won't leave his son in a cardboard box on the side of the road. One that won't take over the nation he gave his life for and then execute him. One that won't kill the man he gave his life for and then blow up that nation.

He's standing in the pouring rain, in front of a home, housing a dad who's done none of that.

Tubbo is standing, shivering, in front of Puffy's door.

A knock.

A light.

A bang, and a curse.

A sound of locks moving.

A door opening.

Puffy appears, hair in complete disarray, and a worried look on her face- that softens when she sees Tubbo.

"Tubbo-"

"I'm cold." Tubbo says, not meeting her gaze.

"That's what I was gonna say, come in, come in" Puffy pulls Tubbo into a half hug, a hand lightly squeezing his shoulder.

Puffy pulls him away from the pouring rain.

"How long have you been out there, kiddo?" Puffy says, grabbing her coat off the hanger and wrapping it around his shoulders.

"How do you be a dad? A good one?" Tubbo asks, reaching out and catching Puffy's hand.

Puffy doesn't answer right away. Instead she navigates them to a couch, and sits them down, bringing Tubbo into a better hug, rubbing his back.

"I- I honestly couldn't tell you. You definitely shouldn't take after me- I'm mean Foolish-" Puffy begins.

"Those were things you couldn't control, but he forgave you and he still sees you as a parent- how do I do that? How do I not fuck it up? How do I be there for him no matter what? How do I protect him from things that can't be killed? How do I not be like them? Puffy, how? All I've known were… my birth parents left me, Puffy. They abandoned me. I got picked up by Phil, you saw how that turned out- I'm trying- I want to be a better father than them. I'm trying to be a better son- I'm giving Phil a second chance and I want to give-" Tubbo stops himself. His eyes sting, he tastes salt. "I want to give Schlatt a second chance. If somehow, he ever comes back, I want to give him a second chance. But that doesn't change the fact that-"

"He's not the best example-"

"You are. I want to be what they weren't. I want to be what you are. What you are to Foolish, what you are to Tommy, what you are to me? I want to give my son golden apples when he fights God, yknow?" Tubbo laughs a little, so does Puffy.

"Yeah, those didn't really help in hindsight-" Puffy says.

"But they did. Puffy, they might not have helped in the physical sense, but when you went out of your way to get us those- that showed me that people still cared. Despite everything, they still cared. If I didn’t make it back, you’d mourn me. You, out of almost everyone else on the server, were one of the only people to mourn Tommy. You took the time to gather his favorite block- you took the time to know what his favorite block even was! You took the time to get to know Tommy, to know what his favorite block was- you saw more in him than what everyone else painted him up to be! You did what hardly anyone else did. You cared about him, you showed everyone that you cared. Puffy, how do i fucking do that? How do I be like you, and care enough about my son that i don’t fucking throw him out like he’s nothing. Like he’s useless, worthless, unwanted- Puffy, how do I make him feel wanted? How do I.. not be like that?"

“You don’t give up. Tubbo, something that I’ve noticed about you- you’re special. You’ve got that… that thing. That spark. That light- you don’t give up. On people, on projects- on anything. You don’t give up on the things you create. Snowchester. You never gave up on it. You wanted to build a safe haven and that’s exactly what it is. You didn’t give up on it and look at it- it’s thriving, it’s thriving because you never gave up on it. L’manburg. Even though it took two of your lives you never gave it up-”

“But-”

“I know, ‘But, Puffy, it’s a crater’ it was never a place. Tubbo, L’manburg was never just a plot of land, a few buildings and a set of rules, Tubbo, L’manburg was never a place. It was a bond. You’ve never given up on L’manburg. You’ve never given up on that bond between you and Tommy- hell, Eret, Niki, Jack, Fundy- even Wilbur- you’ve never given up on that bond. You knew- you were smart enough to know that if you built L’manburg back up again it would just get torn right back down- you knew what was best for it. But you never gave up on the true L’manburg. You never gave up on the bonds you created. Bonds- you just said that you’re giving Phil a second chance- you’re willing to give Schlatt a second chance- you haven’t given up on them. That’s what makes you different from them. You don’t give up. You never will. That’s how to be a good dad. You don’t give up on your kid. Even if they get rowdy and rambunctious- even if they do something bad- don’t- don’t give up on them. There are exceptions, but for the most part. Don’t give up on them. That’s rule one. Don’t give up. Rule two… Use your experience to help prepare him. You, and Ranboo, have both been through a lot. Make sure you give as much advice to Michael as you can. Even if you're just learning it, make sure he’s prepared. Rule three, support him through anything. Even if it isn’t the best idea, sometimes letting him have that experience is the best. You don’t get calloused hands if you have never been in a sword fight. But make sure you’re on the sidelines cheering him on- and always have a regen pot just in case. Rule four, don’t be afraid of change. I know, letting him kill his first zombie will be absolutely terrifying, but he’s a growing… boy? Zombie-pigman boy. He’s a growing Zombie-pigman boy. He’s going to change. You can always change with him. And rule five, don’t kill him or blow up his nation- no, I’m just kidding- I’m kidding- rule five. Know when you need help and don’t be afraid to ask for it. You’ve already got this rule down easy, but it’s a good thing to remember. Another good thing to remember- I will always be here for you. Me, Eret, Foolish- we’re gonna be here for you. Til the fucking end we’re gonna be here for you. I am so fucking proud of how far you’ve come. I’m so grateful that you see me as- that you see me the way you do. I’m so unbelievably grateful that you see me the way you do. I care about you so much, and I want you to know how proud and how grateful I am that you’ve come to me. I swear to fucking Church Prime if I ever see your birth parents I will kill them-” Puffy laughs.

“Promise?” Tubbo mumbles, having pushed his forehead into Puffy’s shoulder.

“Well, maybe not kill them- bitch slap, yes, but killing them might be a little too far.” Puffy squeezes Tubbo’s hand. “Do you want me to walk you home- it’s still dark out.”

“Yeah, I’m really tired, too, I would probably take a wrong turn somewhere.” Tubbo yawns, shifting deeper into Puffy’s coat. Puffy, in turn, fixes the coat so it sits comfortably around Tubbo’s face.

Tubbo rubs his eyes with the back of his hand, finally tired after a week of sleepless nights, and follows Puffy out the door.

He remembers Puffy helping him up the ladder.

He remembers her singing a lullaby.

He remembers what he noticed as they walked out the door.