TW for constant themes of alcoholism in the story! Please check the author's note before reading the story :) Just a little DadSchlatt fanfic I wrote! I hope you all like it :3 FYI, it's pretty short, so yeah :> This is my own concept of how it happened, and yeah, it's an AU, so nothing I wrote can be considered canon. All of the characters in this story are the characters in the RP, and in no way represent the real people who participate in the Dream SMP. Just wanted to say that! Also, the art is not mine :) so I do not get credit for it! If you know who the original artist is, please let me know!

I would like to preface this book by saying i'm a schlannie I just saw this concept and thought... yes. i'm not one of those toxic "cancel schlatt"people- if you are I don't want you here get off my page. tw// violence, abuse, drugs, alcohol, bad vibes, angst n shit, mental health issues cover @soupbrainrot on instagram so many headcanonssssss

꧁Schlatt and Tubbo lived an amazing life until Tubbo got a little to curious꧂ ꧁TW'S FOR: alcoholism, swearing(?), mental breakdowns/panic attacks꧂ ꧁this is my first time making a serious fanfic so i hope you enjoy ♡'･ᴗ･'♡꧂

Schlatt has a kid, his name? Tobias. What the fuck does he do with a baby? [Mature for Language and Violence (later on)] [Art by Cainternn] (Edited by DeformedCherry)

Hello just would like to say that this is based off of the Schlatt's Dream Smp persona so yes he is sort of a dick, but what if he was secretly Tubbo's dad. Also this story will be including: eating disorders, abandonment, alcohol, swearing, and other things most likely. If a CC says they are uncomfortable with this book I'll delete it, so if one reads this I'll probably die from embarrassment. -------------------------------- Summary: I remember that day. It was snowing, cold, dark, I was sure I was going to freeze to death. I remember seeing you in the box wrapped in your blanket with your bee and goat plushies. You were wrapped in your jacket and mine. I started to walk away, I heard a sniffle then your cries, "I'm sorry my son this is for the best of you," I mumbled before running. When I turned the corner I saw people around a tree before black. Now here you are 16 standing in front of me, not knowing who I am and will probably never know.