teacher! c!technoblade x female! readersummary; you go to your brother's conference when your father 'can't'. when you meet his teacher, you realize how anxious and awkward he is around you. you find it charming.content/warnings: mentions of alcohol abuse, teacher! au, schlatt is your father, reader is tubbo's older sister, reader is also the same age as techno, talk of self-hatred, mentions of arguments, reader has daddy issues, and some swearing. tubbo and tommy are about 7 or 8 in this! badboyhalo and wilbur are here too lol.
this wasn't planned.
you weren't expecting to go to your little brother's conference.
your dad was supposed to go, of course, but he reeked of booze and sweat.
it was about 2:00 AM when your dad came home last night (well, morning). he walked into your room, and the smell of hard alcohol woke you. you could tell it was your dad.
you remember a time like this, when tubbo was a baby and you were 13. he'd come home late, as always, after he got drunk at a nearby bar. your uncle, as you and tubbo call him, quackity, watched you both as your father busied himself. quackity would always play games with you, make sure tubbo was fed, and even bought you ice cream after dinner.
your dad sucked at being a dad.
before tubbo came along, you never saw your dad most of the time. he was always there for tubbo. not for you. your aunt, as you like to call her, puffy, took care of you. she didn't like your father, but she loved you. one night, you were crying in her arms, about your dad. you clung onto her red jacket as you sobbed, saying "dad doesn't love me! he hates me! he wants me to leave!" puffy held you tightly, shushing you as you wept. you remember what she said to you;
"even though you think your dad hates you, he doesn't. he adores you. he always talks about you. he always thinks about you. he just," puffy pauses, thinking about what she wants to say. "he just- doesn't know how to show his emotions. just remember, y/n, he loves you so so much." she pokes your nose, making you giggle.
sucks that she doesn't come around anymore.
you squinted at him, since he left the hallway light on and kept your door wide open. he was sitting at the edge of your bed, wiping his hands on his slacks.
"dad?" you whispered, and in response all you got was a grunt. you sat up, looking at him now fully awake.
he was gross. he looked gross.
you could see sweat stains around his armpits and neck, his hair looked greasy, his tie he wore to work the day before was untied around his neck, and his jacket was gone. also to mention, he was still holding a half empty bottle of beer.
"jesus, dad, go take a shower." you said dryly, laying back down on your bed and closing your eyes. you heard him laugh. "i will later." he slurred. "but, y/n," he started, which caught your attention, since he never used your first name. it was always gross baby nicknames. "can you go to tubbo's conference tomorrow? tiny favor, for your pops? i have to stay at the office late." he said, looking at you. you narrowed your eyebrows at him.
"um, i have work tomorrow, too, yknow. so i can't, make quackity do it or something." you stated. you thought that was that. you thought that was the conversation.
but, alas, it wasn't.
your dad's mood changed quite quickly. to a dorky father, to a mad one. you didn't really pay attention to the yelling, since you were so used to it. plus, it only happened when he was drunk.
but here you are, holding your little brother's hand, standing outside his elementary school. tubbo looked quite happy, since his school was his happy place. his oversized sweater you gave him made him have sweater paws, which was super cute. he was wearing short khakis, his legs covered in bruises and hello kitty band-aids.
