#dadiplier

[mcu-no-not-that-mcu]

Something something brainrot something something Markiplier wallpapers

[fishiiwasdrawing]

Whatever man sure

[the-87th-bite]

Nothing's theraputic like a clean house!

Let's try to keep it clean

[orange-waterfalls]

Grounded

Dadiplier x PLATONIC!child!reader

Ask: Hi i have Father Issues so i'm requesting dad!Stan the waterman comforting platonic child!Captain y/n after they have a bad day at school, if that's okay! Bad day can include bullies, lunch food accidents, bad grades, &/or shitty teachers if you need any ideas.

A/N: I took LESS than a month this time! Writer’s block is a bitch, so I consider that a win! This one’s nice and short and sweet, methinks. Crying, I think is the only warning I could possibly give. Bit of angst on that front. Never made something like this in my life. I love it. Also, Dadiplier (Stan?) reminds me of Ted Lasso. I don’t know why. Maybe it’s the shorts. Anyway, enjoy

Word Count: 2k

Started: June 29 (yeah I know I’m sorry s,fdhnbsj)

Finished: July 11

You close the front door with your foot and walk inside with your head hanging. You had gotten in trouble at school (well, “trouble”. You had to call your mom) and were a bit worried about what would happen now that you were home. Your dad wasn’t mean, of course not, but he would have to hear the news from your mom, who was… just a little mean. She was mean because she worried. Dad never had to deal with your bad days at school. You didn’t know how he’d react.

You try to be as quiet as possible navigating your dad’s house. You didn’t know if he was home, the garage door was closed and he could still be out delivering. Just in case, you tiptoe. However, you didn’t appear to be quiet enough, because he calls your name.

You wince. He doesn’t sound angry, per se, but he’s a little loud. You hear footsteps behind you and sigh. You slowly turn to face your dad. Your head is still facing down.

“Hey, sport,” He greets, voice a little tense, but trying to be soft. You lift your hand in a weak wave. He sighs. “Do you think you can look at me?”

Tears prick your eyes a little as you raise your head to look at him. He’s still wearing his uniform. He might have left work early to meet you when you got home. He doesn’t look mad, or sad, or disappointed, he looks worried. The worry only amplifies when he sees the tears slip down your face. He races over to you, getting on his knees and rubbing your arms, comfortingly.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” He whispers. You shake your head and wipe your eyes. He tries to speak, making little sounds as he tries to figure out what to say. “Come on, come here…” He lifts you up and holds you close as he carries you to your room. He leaves the door open, setting you on the bed so you’re sitting, and gets on his knees on the ground again.

“Look at me, champ,” He prompts, “Look at me, it’s ok.” You let yourself look at him, blinking away the hot tears. Your lip quivers as you try not to cry too loudly.

“What happened?” He asks. You try to talk, only letting out a squeak and a sob, the question making it all 10 times worse, somehow. He suddenly pulls you into a bear hug, wrapping his arms around you and putting your face on his shoulder. He climbs on the bed so that he can hold you easier. 

“Alright, just let it out, you’ll feel better,” He sighs. You finally let it all out, crying and sobbing into his shirt, getting the fabric wet. You hold him tightly, not nearly as tightly as he holds you, and cry and cry and cry for what seemed to be hours. He pets your head and shushes and whispers “it’s alright” and “it’s ok” and “let it out” as you do, indeed, let it out.

By the time you’re all out of tears, your face is dry and your eyes feel sticky and your nose is stuffy and your head hurts. You open your mouth to ask for some water, but he pulls a bottle out of his fanny pack instantly. You don’t bother asking how he had fit the entire metal water bottle in there before you chug it. He keeps a hand on your head, waiting for you to rehydrate and breathe and calm down.

“Better?” He smiles. You nod, giving a weak smile back. He pets your head a little more, looking like he wants to hug you again, but doesn't. 

You sniffle and wipe your face as he pulls out a towel and douses it with some of the water left in the bottle. Your carpet got wet, but neither of you really cared. He wipes your face down once, with minimal complaining of “I can do it myself” on your part and a joyful “you’re my baby, I wanna do it” from him. He then folds the towel and drapes it over your eyes and forehead and pushes you to lay down on your pillows.

“Rest a little while I make dinner.” He instructs.

“What’s dinner?” You croak. You can practically feel him wince from beside you.

“Your favorite!” He says in a sing-song voice. “And! I have a surprise later!”

“What’s the surprise?” You say, excitedly trying to sit back up. He tuts and pushes you back down.

“Well, if I told you, child of mine, it wouldn’t be a surprise, now would it?” He scolds. You snort and roll your eyes under the towel. He gives you a peck on the forehead through the towel, leaving the room and turning the light off so that you could sleep better. You were fully prepared to stay awake.

Until you woke up confused and a little groggy. You frantically looked around, wondering what year it was, before everything came back and you groaned and flopped back down. You never understood how you can fall asleep by accident.

A soft knock at the door tells you it’s been a while, long enough for dad to get everything ready. He pushed the door open, peeking his head in.

“You awake, kiddo?” He whispers. You make the split-second decision to pretend to be asleep, for some reason. Not like you were supposed to be asleep or anything. He wouldn’t get mad at you. Well, you already had your eyes closed. 

“Kiddo?” He repeats.

Ah, yes. An opportunity. To lie. By omission. Why were you lying? Well, why not? What’s the harm? It’s quick, it’s easy, and it’s free. 

You “wake up”, stretching and yawning and sitting up, rubbing your eyes.

“Dad?” You say in your sleepy voice and look at him. He immediately looks guilty as he walks over and sits on your bed.

“I’m sorry, hon, I didn’t mean to wake you…” He apologizes, petting your head. You force yourself to yawn again for good measure. He smiles. “Glad you got a good nap in.”

“How long was I asleep?” You ask, blinking your eyes all the way open.

“Maybe an hour. Or two… or four.” He coughs. Your eyes fly open.

“Dad!” You squeak.

“Hm?” He frowns.

“I have homework!” You whine. He nods, understanding.

“Oh. Well, you can do it tomorrow.” He shrugs. 

“It’s due tomorrow.” You say.

“You’re not going to school tomorrow.” You stare at him, wondering if he’s messing with you.

“... dad, today’s Tuesday. I’m going to school tomorrow.”

“No, you’re not. I called the teacher and asked what happened.” You raise an eyebrow. “And when I told your mom about it…” You hiss like you’ve been burned. He laughs and shoves you a little.

“Oh, quit. Your mother was very upset.” He nods.

“Mmmm…” You look away guiltily.

“At your teacher.” He raises an eyebrow. You raise both.

“Oh?”

“She’s going to have a conversation with the school board tomorrow. I suggested you stay home, since you were so upset earlier, and she agreed.” He explains. You blink at him.

“I… thought mom would be mad at me.” You mumble and shrug. He shrugs one shoulder in return.

“Well, your mother only ever hears your side of it. This time she heard the adult’s side of it. And the fact that you are generally more polite about your teacher’s behavior says a lot about you.”

“Does it?”

“It says that you’re a good, honest kid.” You suddenly felt guilty for pretending to sleep.

“... dad?” You started.

“Hm?” He hummed his acknowledgement.

“I wasn’t asleep when you came in. I pretended.” You confess. He blinks at you.

“... oh… ok…” He nods. He pauses a moment. “... why?”

“... I… don’t know.” You respond honestly. He looks at the floor.

“... well, that should be fine. Come on, let’s get dinner and get your surprise.” He picks you up and throws you over his shoulder. You laugh loudly.

“Can’t you tell me what it is?” You complain.

“Of course I can’t! What do you take me for?” He carries you out into the living room.

“I thought mom told you to stop letting me eat on the couch.” You pointed out.

“She did. Your mother doesn’t have to know everything.” You snorted as he dropped you on the couch and set your food in front of you.

You sped through your dinner fairly quickly, still trying to savor the food at the same time. Dad had to tell you to slow down more than once. You weren’t embarrassed. You wanted your surprise. When you were done, you ran everything over to the kitchen sink and ran back to the couch, practically launching yourself back into it. He looked at you.

“So.” He said, more of a statement than the beginning of one.

“... so?” You asked, hopefully.

“Ready for your surprise?” He smiled.

“YES!” You yelled.

“Ok! Close your eyes.” He waved at you as he stood up to go get whatever he was needing to get. You squeezed your eyes closed, impatiently vibrating on the couch. You heard the footsteps reenter the room. 

You opened your eyes and smiled at him. He handed you a cardboard box and gestured for you to open it. You tore into it like a feral cat and stared at the object inside.

“So? What do you think?” He inquired, sounding very very nervous. You were feeling quite a mix of emotions at it. You liked it, don’t get me wrong, but this was… bought for a reason.

“This is…” You started, your eyes trailing up to look at your guilty-looking father. You squinted at him. “... expensive…”

“Oh. Well, yeah, it cost a bit of money, but… um…” He sputtered and rubbed the back of his neck. You closed the box, gently setting it on the other side of you and turned to your father, who was now avoiding looking at you.

“Dad…” You started, a bit worried. He inhaled through his teeth.

“Your mother told me that I have to be… a little harder on you. Show more… assertiveness. As your father. The man of the house. An authority figure.” He explained, clearing his throat.

“And…” You open the box once more, pulling the brand new game system out and putting it in your lap, “... this is being more strict with me?”

“Well, it-that-you…” He stuttered before pausing and breathing deeply. His hands folded and held in front of his mouth as he thought. He turned to you.  “... sweetheart.”

“Father.” You raised an eyebrow at him. He ran a hand through his hair.

“I am… going to tell you something, and… and I don’t want you to be mad at me. I, as your father, only want what’s best for you. And sometimes what is best isn’t what feels best. So, in your best interest, I–” He rambled, sounding like he was about to cry.

“I’m grounded, aren’t I?” You sighed.

“I am so, so sorry. I love you so much, I didn’t want to do this, I–” His hands shook as he took your face in them and he got tears in his eyes.

“Dad, it’s ok. I get it. I got in trouble. Besides, this should keep me entertained.” You laughed as you lifted the system to get a good look at it.

“Yeah, it–yeah. That’s why I bought it.” He shrugged, laughing along.

“We could play together, too.”

“Yeah? You’d let me?”

“Yeah? Of course.” You put the system down to look at him.

“But I grounded you.” He still wasn’t looking at you. You rolled your eyes.

“Dad. You’re a good dad. Grounding me once isn’t going to change that.” Tears started to fill his eyes again and he sniffed.

“I know…”

“... Mom doesn’t know about this, does she?” You cringed at the thought of your mother finding out about this.

“Well, I… she doesn’t… need to…” He finally looked at you again. You smiled and shifted to hug him tightly.

“... love you, dad.” His breath hitched a little and he hugged you back. 

“Love you, sport.”

Mannnn I started crying I wish he was my dad msdnqljghfdgrb8y

[salad-of-potatoes]

Chase Brody x Stan the Water Man hit post

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Dadplier having his kid y/n read to him when they hear him have a nightmare, cause they know stories can help distract you from scary things, at least that's what he taught them when they were younger. He'd probably hold them close after they finish reading cause he just wants the company and cuddles of his baby, I mean they're his little star and the only person he has left.

Okay this is so cute im crying and im gonna make this a fic bc AUGH you got me soft for the one (1) ego we see at the beginning. [Y/n] will be a teenager in this case

.......

Usually, you weren't one to sneak out in the middle of the night, but you just had to this one time.

Your friends got tickets for a horror movie about space that was playing late, starting just an hour after your dad goes to bed. You loved all things space-related so obviously you couldn't miss it. You'd feel bad if you did.

So you did what most teenagers would do: join their friends.

You saw the movie and managed to get back home in one piece around 2AM. 

Now your final task was getting into pajamas and hoping your dad wouldn't notice.

Not that you were afraid he'd get mad. Oh no. He never got upset with you, even when things in the family got...difficult, and it ended with only you two left in the house. 

You’d just feel really guilty if you accidentally woke him up.

As you quietly snuck past his room, you tensed as you heard him mumbling something, pausing as you realized it was your name

‘Damn it....maybe he’s just dreaming-?’

“No..[y/n]..I-I’m sorry. I can be better! I promise! I can be...!! No..don’t leave me..please...[Y/N]!!!”

You jumped a bit as you heard him scream, before it all went silent. ‘Or having a nightmare..’ You concluded, keeping your ear to the door for a brief moment. 

That’s when you heard..a sob?

Part of you wanted to quickly go change and come back, yet you wanted to immediately comfort your dad--just like he’s done all those years ago for you when you had nightmares. No matter how late into the night, he was always there for you when you needed him most.

Why shouldn’t you return the favor? You’ll risk getting caught, but eh..you’ll take your chances.

“Dad?” Gently knocking on the door, you pushed it open and saw him sitting up in bed, a hand over his mouth as he took shaky breaths, trying to calm himself down. “You had a nightmare?”

Stan looked up, relieved to see you--his child, his star--in the doorway, perfectly okay. He sniffled and nodded, barely able to form words as anything he attempted to say would get him so choked up.

“You need anything? Maybe uh..a story to distract you?”

Seeing him nod a second time, you went over to the bookshelf in his room, turning on the lamplight. You sifted through the various novels, finding a scary one about an old pizzeria with haunted robots, and another lighthearted one about an animatronic bear befriending a lonely boy.

You chose the latter, climbing onto the bed and joining your father’s side as you showed him the cover. “I think this one about an unlikely friendship will help.”

He smiled in agreement, putting an arm around you. You opened the book and started reading, doing your best impressions of the robot bear and the kid.

“...and as they sat atop the hill and watched the sunrise, they smiled. They didn’t know what would come next, but they knew one thing: They both survived the night at Freddy’s.” You closed the book, looking to Stan and seeing the tears in his eyes. “Did..I do okay?”

“Y-You did..amazing, kiddo. Thank you.” He hugged you closely. “I..hardly remember what I even dreamed about. You sure are taking after your old man.”

“Yeah.” You lightly chuckled. “I mean, you always taught me that stories were the best distractions. Will you..be okay going back to sleep now?”

For a moment he was quiet, still keeping you in his hold. You put the book on the nightstand and sighed. Oh, how the roles have reversed. “You want me to stay?”

Again, he nodded. “S-Sorry, I know you’re not used to seeing me like this, but...y-you’re a good kid, [y/n]. You’ve always been so good and...I want you to remember that.” A few tears slipped from his eyes, but he was quick to wipe them away. “Look at me, being so weepy over a silly dream..”

“It’s okay, dad.” You hugged him. “I promise I’ll always be here for you. I won’t leave.”

He was touched by your words, his heart melting as all fears regarding his nightmare had left.  Of course he knew they weren’t real, but it’s good hearing you reassure him you didn’t hate him.

You’re all he has left, and he wants to treasure you as long as he can.

“Thank you, my little star.”

[oswinunknown]

stan the water man art ig

[insane4fandoms]

Late Father’s Day gift because I can.

Give Dadiplier (or Stan the Waterman), someone to love, @crazy-obsessed-enby