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Michael; he's my friend.

Summary:

But this wasn't just a stuffed animal. It was Michael. He was supposed to take care of him. They were friends. Michael helped him when he was alone and too scared to turn off the light at night, or there was a big storm and he regressed. Michael had held his hand the last time he had an anxiety attack. Michael was the only one Ranboo had told (in a shaky whisper) how he thought he was different, how he liked boys.

Ranboo felt a horrible knot in the middle of his chest.

"Wha- Ranboo are you crying?"

or,

Ranboo might've accidentally gotten very attached to Michael.

Notes:

I wrote this like ages ago, that's why it's settled in the middle of the first meet-up lmao. That feels like ages ago.

I did edit it just now so... TECHNICALLY im an adult writing fanfiction (it's the first thing I've written since i turned 18 lmao)

this is chill, u can read it little since it's mostly chill, but there is an anxiety attack that's not very explicitly descrived and some swearing

also dont expect much i do this for fun and english is not my first lenguage.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

Baby Minecraft mobs were just the cutest combination of pixels to ever exist.

Therefore it became a trope: streamer plays Minecraft, streamer finds cute baby whatever, streamer's chat spams "aww's" until streamer gets a goddamn nametag and now everyone’s attached to the mob.

Usual procedure.

Everyone forgets about said mob in a month.

The thing was... the Dream SMP wasn't just that. Suddenly there was the possibility of not forgetting, of the mob not being just something that looked cute in your house. So Ranboo might've gotten a little too excited with Michael.

He told Tubbo they should include the little pigling in their lore. There was something so incredibly comforting about the entire situation. It reminded Ranboo of all the amazing things that were suddenly happening in his life. It reminded him of Tubbo. And after what felt like way too long (but had been only like... a month) he got a pigling stuffie from amazon.
He knew the only reason he was so attached to it was because every time he looked at the thing his little self decided to interrupt whatever he was doing. But really, it was fine. He didn't slip that deep, and nothing too suspicious had happened yet on stream. So he kept telling chat excitedly about how he was definitely taking Michael to the UK- and oh god he was actually going to meet Tubbo what the fuck.

 

- - -

 

Tubbo was seriously considering retreating from his previous statements and actually hugging Ranboo because he was there. He didn't, but the entire way home there was a huge grin on his face and he thinks he hasn't been happier in a long time.

When they got home and were left alone in their shared bedroom for the next months, Tubbo remembered.

"Dude! You did bring Michael, right? You didn't forget?"

Ranboo's face (he was just so... expressive... and Tubbo could see it. In real life) lightened immediately. The slight frown he was making while trying to figure out where to start unpacking left in less than a second, and was replaced with pure excitement. It felt almost childish how genuinely happy Ranboo seemed at the mention of a literal stuffed animal.

"Yup! It's here, look!"

To tubbo's surprise, he didn't go search in the suitcase, he grabbed the backpack he'd had at the airport and opened it, revealing a glance of pink fabric.

He smiled at Ranboo’s flapping hands.

"Yooo! My child. I can finally meet him."

 

- - -

 

If he was telling the truth, Tubbo had thought the stuffed Michael would end up on their couch, randomly being used for a bit now and then. It was what had happened to Benson. He left it somewhere and didn’t touch it for at least a couple of months until he randomly remembered its existence, usually on stream and triggered by chat, and then the same would happen over and over again.

Clearly, he was wrong. Ramboo seemed to be glued to the thing.

He didn't mind tho. He found the entire Michael bit hilarious. When Ranboo would silently put Michael on the table while they had dinner, or when he would talk to it to make everyone in the room laugh.

Tubbo thought it was very similar to Tommy’s sense of humor; taking something ridiculous extremely seriously to the point where it didn’t even feel sarcastic anymore and that just made it funnier.

He felt a stupid warmth in his stomach at the idea of Tommy and Ranboo spending so much time together that they unconsciously picked on the other’s mannerisms and sense of humor.

He loved those idiots.

 

- - -

 

The stream had been- god. That stream had been the most fun he'd probably ever had streaming. Tommy and Tubbo seemed to agree. The chat had been crazy for the meet-up.

"That was so fucking cool," Tubbo stated after a couple of seconds in silence that followed the end of the stream.

"Yeah! Great job boys!" Tommy stood up, but Ranboo wasn't really paying attention.

The stream had been great, but he was exhausted. Trying to match with Tubbo's and Tommy's energy, plus the routine he had gotten so used to back at home of regressing after stream was making the entire situation hard.

He'd been managing pretty well so far. He was sure Tubbo hadn't picked on any of the times he'd felt little for a while. And he'd managed not to slip after any of the streams.

But he was exhausted. And he hadn't properly regressed in so long…

He heard a dramatic "ufff" and saw Tommy throwing himself at the sofa and falling limp, clearly being just a little over-dramatic.

Ranboo frowned. Wasn't...?

"Tommy! Michael was on the sofa! You'll crush him, he'll get hurt!"

Tommy and Tubbo laughed. Tommy not even implying he was going to move.

"Fuck off man. Don't care." It clearly was meant to be lighthearted, by the small laugh at the end and Tubbos chuckle.

But- Ranboo's semi-regressed brain had forgotten Michael was a stuffie for just a second.

And Tommy and Tubbo were laughing. And Tommy wasn't moving. And Michael, he was going to get crushed and-

"Tommy, can you give me Michael please?" Ranboo asked, quietly. He tried to make it sound as lighthearted as he could, and begged the two boys didn't notice his raising anxiety.

"No. I'm tired. Don't wanna move. The thing's not even real. It can die."

Ranboo knew a stuffie couldn't die, okay? He knew that. He was seventeen years old and he was hanging out with his two friends who didn’t care about stuffed animals.

But this wasn't just a stuffed animal. It was Michael. He was supposed to take care of him. They were friends. Michael helped him when he was alone and too scared to turn off the light at night, or there was a big storm and he regressed. Michael had held his hand the last time he had an anxiety attack. Michael was the only one Ranboo had told (in a shaky whisper) how he thought he was different, how he liked boys.

Ranboo felt a horrible knot in the middle of his chest. The way Tommy had said it. He didn’t care. He thought Ranboo was stupid. He didn’t understand that he was crushing Michael and Michael couldn't get hurt!

His face felt embarrassingly hot. His eyes were burning and this room was so warm, and-
Suddenly a single tear was falling off his face.

He whined, and he realized at some point he’d left the chair and kneeled next to the couch.

"Please, please... Michael." He murmured frantically, slightly pushing Tommy's arm as more tears fell down his face. He needed him to move. Michael was being crushed.

"Wha- Ranboo are you crying?"

"Please! Please!" Ranboo whined again. He was panicking and Tommy wasn't listening, and now the two boys were staring at him, astonished, and Michael was still under Tommy.

"Woah. Okay, okay, look." Tommy quickly moved from where he'd been lying down and grabbed the stuffie. "Here, see? It's okay. Nothing happened to it."

Ranboo quickly took it from Tommy's hand and pulled it close to his chest. The comforting fabric was soft to the touch and he immediately felt better, tears were still falling from his eyes, but now that Michael was alright he could focus on breathing.

After a few deep breaths, he realized he had a confused Tubbo and Tommy sitting on the floor next to him.

"It's okay Ranboo," Tommy said. "Breathe." He hadn't realized he'd stopped the breathing exercises. A shaky exhale followed by a couple of minutes of silence and Ranboo wasn't crying anymore.

"Feeling better?" Tubbo asked, hesitant.

He hugged Michael tighter, as if he could hide himself inside the plushie. He gave a shy nod.

“Uhm" Tommy and Tubbo shared a glance "What... happened? Was it because of- uh, Michael?"

Ranboo looked down at the stuffie in his arms.

"Got scared," He mumbled, quieter than normal.

Tommy was frowning, "Oh. Uhm... I'm sorry. That I scared you. I should have given him to you when you asked. And I shouldn't have said that."

" 's okay..." Ranboo said, and with a much more excited, childish tone, he added."I forgive ‘u!"

Tommy stared and tilted his head slightly.

Ranboo whined.

“Wha- What’s wrong?” He asked immediately, clearly scared Ranboo would panic again.

“You wern’t supposed to know!” Ranboo’s speech was slurred.

“What weren’t we supposed to know?” Tubbo asked. Ranboo hid his face with Michael. He whined.

“ ‘m tired. Sleep?” He asked.

Tommy and Tubbo shared a glance.

“Of course. Let’s get some rest.”

 

- - -

 

Ranboo woke up hugging Michael. He smiled softly but forced himself to carefully drop the stuffie. He’d probably regress if he stayed with him.

He debated on checking Twitter. That’d probably be a horrible idea, but it would also be an excuse to stay for a couple more minutes in bed.

He felt a sweet smell coming from the kitchen, so Tubbo and Tommy were probably already up and-

Oh. Tommy and Tubbo. Of course.

Fuck.

The truth is Ranboo had never really thought about telling anyone about his regression. Not because it was a secret, at least not to his friends. It was just his thing. It was very personal to him, so he kept it to himself. Ranboo didn’t really feel the need to tell anyone and- it felt like so much energy. Having to explain it. What it was, why he did it, how, when… so many questions.

He wasn’t even scared of being judged. At least not.. like, he knew his friends weren’t going to stop talking to him. It was rather the terrifying idea of them saying it was fine, and secretly judging him. Or them not understanding. Regression had helped him so much it was honestly stupid. It’d probably saved his life with stuffed animals and Disney movies, he couldn’t stand the idea of his friends knowing but... not getting it. It made just so much sense in his head.

He sighed, like it was the worst moment of his life, and forced himself to stand up. He was wearing the clothes he’d been wearing the night before, so he put on some pajamas. He didn’t have to leave the house that day and was about to have the worst conversation of his life, so blame him if he wanted to spend the entire day wearing pajamas. He went to the bathroom and brushed his teeth.

There were voices coming from the kitchen. He would feel bad for eavesdropping if Tubbo and Tommy weren't so clearly talking about him.

“Look, it was probably just- I don’t know man. He mentioned his anxiety has been pretty bad lately, right? I thought the stream was pretty cool, but maybe something happened and it was like, a pretty bad panic attack or something?” Tommy was saying, he pushed Tubbo from the stove and took the pan he was probably about to set on fire.

“He is always with Michael. I thought it was like, part of the bit? Maybe it helps with his anxiety.” Tubbo said, like trying to remember every time he’d seen Ranboo with the plushie.

“Yeah man! You are probably right,” Tommy almost dropped the milk. “OH- Fuck! Okay, yeah, it’s probably that. Look, if he wants to talk about it, he will, and if he doesn't we just- move on. Whatever. We all have weird moments.”

Okay. they didn’t seem to be weird about it. Ranbo could do this. It would- probably, be okay.

“Uh. Hi, good morning.” He murmured, entering and standing awkwardly next to the door.
Tommy turned around in a small jump.

“Big man! Morning!”

“Hi, Ranboo. We made pancakes.” Tubbo said, smiling widely.

Tommy scoffed. “You mean, I made pancakes and you almost burned the kitchen twice.” Ranboo smiled slightly.

Tubbo put the plates at the table, the three of them sat down and started eating.

They didn’t speak much. Tommy and Tuboo made a few jokes, clearly trying to start a light-hearted conversation, but Ranboo didn’t add much. When there was only a pancake left on his plate, Ranboo felt trapped by the silence. He took a deep breath.

“My- Uh… My anxiety has been pretty bad lately.” Ranboo said, looking up from his plate. Tommy was bringing his fork to his mouth and dropped it slowly. Tubbo looked directly at him. “Yesterday. That was a panic attack.”

Tubbo nodded. “Yeah. We figured.” He smiled softly.

Tommy opened his mouth to say something, but Ranboo interrupted him.

“Do any of you know what age regression is?” He blurted. Tommy closed his mouth and both of them stared at him. “Okay, uhm.” He nervously moved in his seat. “So, age regression is a coping mechanism where a- person goes to, like, the mental headspace of a kid. It’s something that can help with anxiety or-” Ranboo felt a knot in his throat. He’d never mentioned any of this to any of his friends. “Or trauma.” He took a moment to breathe. “It kinda works as a distraction from real, adult life, or a way of coping with childhood trauma. Well- at least that’s how it works… for me.”

Tommy and Tubbo were… still staring. None of them seemed to have understood any of the words he’d said. He groaned in frustration.

“That's why yesterday I was acting so weird. I usually regress after streams when I’m home, and I hadn’t regressed for a while so I was feeling kinda like… half regressed and Michael is a very big trigger for me so… y’know, that’s why I make such a big deal out of Michael and why I was speaking kinda weird.”

Tubbo frowned.

“So.. you were like… you were acting like a child?” Ranboo nodded.

“It’s nothing weird or- or sexual,” Ranboo was blushing. He hated this conversation. “I mean because people usually assume- Well, it’s just. It helps with my anxiety and- yeah,” Ranboo hated how pleading that sounded. “I promise, it really helps- I-”

“Hey, Ranboo,” Tommy interrupted him. “It’s okay, we believe you. You don’t have to- I mean sure maybe I don’t exactly…get it, just yet, but. Hey. Cool. If it helps.”

Tubbo nodded. “Yeah. Of course. Uh… if you wanted to explain more, we’d love to hear it. No pressure! But, y’know, so maybe we can understand this part of you better.”

This time it was Ranboo the one that was staring. He smiled.

“Well, like I said, it just helps me destress and stuff. I usually just do stuff with Micael and watch cartoons or something.”

“That seems cool,” Tubbo said. “We should watch adventure time together!”

Tommy faked a groan.

“OH- MY GOD- Tubbo I swear to god if I have to hear you rant about adventure time ONE more time I will break something.”

Tubbo angrily started cursing Tommy.

Ranboo loved them.

Notes:

i will probably write a second part of this because i read a fic with little ranboo and cg aimsey and im obsessed (there should be more fics of that duo)

:) if you like it please consider user subscribing and leaving kudos or a comment (i really appreciate those:)

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