#giving her his gold medal; writing that letter and saying that he learned swimming for her etc.
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sjoongki · 2 months ago
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can’t stop thinking about how seung-hyo’s primary love language is acts of service 😭😭
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REMBRANDT
Based off a post by @bucky-plums-barnes for Daddy Wednesday:
“Anonymous said:
Lance's kid being very into art, music, theater, and stuff but Lance being a little disappointed that they're not into athletics, but not being upset or pouty. But, the child thinks they've let their a failure and that Lance doesn't like them because of them liking art. Once Lance hears about this he buys them a super nice painting set and says that he loves them no matter what and wants to apologize for making them feel like that.
Answer: and he always makes sure he’s at their recitals or plays and drives them to lessons. Lance is very very supportive”
A/N: Okay, just to be clear, I was the Anon who sent this in, but it wasn’t until Gen (am I even worthy enough to call her that?) responded that I considered turning it into a fic.  So the original idea was mine, but the actual inspiration to write it out was from Gen.  So thank you!
Lance x reader (ish)
Word count: 2174
Summary: Lance is huge on sports and had always hoped his child would become a professional athlete like him.  But, when he and (Y/N)’s son likes the arts, things get a bit messy.
Warnings: slight angst, little bit of fighting, crushed dreams, Lance being a dick as usual. FLUFFY ENDING.
(GIF not mine)
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           Lance thought a lot of things.  He thought that he would never settle with one girl… then he met (Y/N).  Lance thought he would never get married… next thing he knew he was muttering ‘I do’ to (Y/N) through tears of joy.  Lance thought he would never have kids… then he had his son, Abner… then his daughter, Tera.  But most of all, he never thought his child would be… an artist.
For most of Abner’s life, Lance had been pushing him to do sports.  (Y/N) thought it was a good idea.  Abner was just a child and they didn’t know what his interests were yet, and sports was a good place to start, especially considering who his father is.  So, Mr. and Mrs. Tucker signed their son up for sports.
First, Lance tried to push Abner into gymnastics, of course.  But, that didn’t seem to work out.  Abner didn’t seem to be getting into the moves or rhythm, so he tried a different sport. Classic baseball was Lance’s next choice.  Abner was somewhat good at it, he made decent scores, he didn’t try to shove sand down his uniform like the other little boys did.  But he just didn’t seem very excited about it, so they put Abner in Football.  Yeah… Abner didn’t even make it passed the tryouts on that one.  Next up was swimming.  Abner did not like that at all!  No matter how hard he tried, he always ended up swimming like a drowning horse. So, then they tried hockey… they never talk about Abner’s ‘incident’ in hockey…
The Tucker family had tried every sport and physical activity under the sun.  Golfing, weight lifting, curling, track and field, tennis, karate, soccer, everything!  But nothing worked for Abner.  So, after years of struggle, Lance gave up on his search for a suitable sport for his son.
 One day, when Abner was in fourth grade, he told his mother that he wanted to take guitar lessons as an elective, just for the heck of it.  (Y/N) thought ‘what’s the harm in trying?’ and let him do it.  Turns out, Abner really enjoyed it!  He thought it was fun, he had potential in the skill, and it made him happy!
After that, he really took off flying!  Through the years, Abner took on multiple different electives and classes, all having to do with the arts.  He took up sketching, painting, drama, singing, he continued on the guitar, he even picked up the ukulele!  Abner loved it all!  And he was quite good at it too.
Over time, Abner worked at his craft, perfecting it and developing his special talents and skills.  He was learning to write songs on his own, he was studying different artist’s methods for painting, he developed his own sketching style, he’s almost mastered realistic drawing, and he’s even gotten the lead role in a few school plays before!  All of this was amazing, but, to Lance, it was almost… disappointing…
Lance wasn’t mad that his son likes the arts, not at all!  Lance loved to see his son so happy and doing what he loves!  Lance had just hoped that he could raise a champion, one greater than himself.  Someone who would compete and trample the opponents beneath their feet, someone who would win medals and trophies to adorn the mantle.  He couldn’t exactly do that with an artist, now could he?
 Abner was now in his senior year in highschool. He was still learning and succeeding in the arts.  He was so excited!  He was even waiting for a letter to see if he had gotten a scholarship to Cal Arts!  Lance didn’t care for too much for it, but (Y/N) was quite proud of Abner for all his hard work and well-earned accomplishments!
A blur of color dashed passed Tara, nearly knocking her over.  “Abner! Mom said no running in the halls!” Tara tattled, standing back on her feet.  Abner didn’t even acknowledge his tweenaged sister’s existence as he rocketed off to his parents’ bedroom- he was too excited!  Cal Arts had finally sent him their response letter and he wanted to open it in front of his dad! Maybe if he got accepted, Lance would be proud of him, just maybe.
Abner knew he didn’t turn out like Lance had wanted him to.  Lance wanted an all-star athlete who would be on magazine covers and on the front page of newspapers.  But, instead, Lance got a mini Picasso.  Lance had never said that he was disappointed out loud to him, but Abner knew how he felt.
Abner stood outside his parents’ bedroom door, eagerly jumping up and down.  He raised his fist, shakily getting ready to knock on the door and make his big announcement- when yelling caught his attention.  Abner pressed his ear against the locked door, curiosity taking over as he listened to what his mom and dad were saying.
“I don’t care what you wanted, Lance!  He deserves to be supported!” (Y/N) screamed, a twinge of irritation in her voice.  Abner’s heart sunk as his brain jumped to the only meaning that that sentence could have. But, he kept listening, maybe Lance would agree and finally take pride in his son... maybe.  “All I wanted was to have a kid to follow in my footsteps! I wanted to raise a champion!  Is that so much to ask?!” Lance shouted back, “if you’re repressing and demeaning your child’s talents, then yes!” (Y/N) answered, fury soaking her words.
“I just wanted a kid who could be successful! The phrase ‘starving artist’ exists for a reason, y’know!”  Lance screamed, “I don’t want to raise a failure!” “Lancelot Tucker!” (Y/N) gasped a loud slapping noise following her exclamation.
Abner was mortified, he didn’t want to hear any more. Abner had always tried to please his father, to make him proud in any way he could.  But, it would seem that there was no way for Abner to please Lance with his passions.  Abner… was a failure to his father.
 Lance walked into the kitchen the next morning tired and cranky; sleeping on the couch was never fun.  As he slowly trudged through the large kitchen, he attempted to kiss (Y/N) on the cheek as a greeting, but she pushed him away and continued to read her novel.  (Y/N) did not want him to think that he was forgiven for what he said last night by giving him any sort of affection.
An infantile grumble came from Lance’s scowling face as he walked away from his wife to get some coffee.  As he poured some into his favorite mug, he caught a glance of the, very full, trash can in his peripherals.  “What’s all that?” Lance grunted irritatedly, “take a look and see for yourself!” (Y/N) grunted back harshly, pointing at the mess but never taking her eyes off the book’s page.
Lance set his mug on the counter and approached the garbage to see what it all was.  Lance opened the lid and saw paper, small canvases, sheet music, Abner’s guitar and ukulele were haphazardly tossed beside the wastebasket, his huge school project was placed with them, tons of sketchbooks were tossed in there, paints, brushes, pencils, markers, and… a letter from Cal Arts… This was all Abner’s stuff.
Lance looked at his wife in a panic, “he heard what you said last night…” (Y/N) droned, flipping the page in her book. Lance looked down at the unopened letter in his hands.  The poor kid must be so heartbroken.
 That night, Lance stayed up, drinking coffee and looking through all the art supplies that had been thrown out.  He sat at the kitchen table, flipping through one of the many sketchbooks that Abner had filled over the years.  He was quite good.  There were drawings of Abner’s friends, his sister, Abner himself, different celebrities; there were sketches of random objects around the house, there was a bit of calligraphy, there was even some OC drawings and thumbnails for paintings.
Lance was amazed by his son’s talent!  How had he never noticed this before?!  All the paintings he had reviewed earlier were fantastic and the music he was writing was amazing!  Lance was kinda sad that he never bothered to go to any of Abner’s acting performances, that kid must’ve been phenomenal!
After he had finished looking through the seventh sketchbook, Lance leaned over to the trash to see what else he could find. As he scanned the trash bin, something caught Lance’s eye.  It was a big canvas board, but half of it wasn’t painted.  Lance struggled to yank it out of the garbage, but after a bit of a fight, he was able to slip it out.
With a victorious smirk, Lance looked down at the painting.  It was… of him.  It was a painting… of Lance.  It wasn’t quite finished, but it was him, wearing his track suit, with three or four gold medals around his neck, and the background was blue, but with flashes of white, almost like cameras flashing.  “Abner did this?” Lance whispered to himself, in awe that his child would do something like this.  He flipped the canvas over and saw Abner’s handwriting.  It was a letter to Lance.
‘Dad,
I know I’m not how you wanted me to turn out.
You wanted to raise an Olympic champion, but you got me instead.
I know I won’t win metals or huge trophies, but I promise dad, one day I’ll make you proud.
I promise.’
Tears were forming in Lance’s eyes.  How could he make his own son feel like he wasn’t good enough?  He made him feel like a failure to the point where his son threw out a full-ride scholarship just to make Lance happy.  Lance was going to make it up to him, he had to.
 Abner sat in his room, staring at the old bin, full of what little sports certificates and participation awards he got when he was a kid.  Obviously, he had never actually won anything, just gotten those meaningless, ‘you’re special’ and ‘good job’ prizes they give out so no one feels left out. Maybe Abner could try to actually win something, maybe that would make Lance proud of him.
   A small knock on the doorframe brought Abner’s attention to his father as he entered the room.  “Hey, sport- I mean-” Lance greeted.  Real smooth, Tucker.  Real smooth.
“Sorry…” Lance apologized, sitting down on the edge of the bed with his son, “I uh… I saw all your art… in the kitchen…”  Abner just nodded, not even sparing Lance simple eye contact.  He really screwed this one up.  “It was really good!  I uh… I’m sorry I never took the time to uh… look at it…” Lance felt so guilty, but he had no idea what to say!  “Hey, I got you something,” Lance perked up, handing Abner the large case he had carried in. Abner was a little wary of the abrupt gift.  Lance was not one to give gifts, unless it was Christmas or something.  And even then, Lance didn’t do much in the way of gift giving.
Abner took the large gift and set it in his lap and began to unwrap it.  It was probably the uniform to a new sport he had been signed up for by his father. “Dad you didn’t need t-” words escaped Abner’s brain as once he saw what Lance had given him.  It was a Royal Langnickel Deluxe drawing set and a set of 24 Copic markers.  “Dad! Why’d you do this?  These things cost a fortune!” Abner exclaimed, studying the pristine packaging of the art supplies, “this easily cost you over three hundred dollars!”.  Lance just smiled, seeing how excited his son was.  “I thought you deserved it,” Lance nodded, taking the letter out of his pocket.
“Look, I made you feel like a disappointment, just because you weren’t like me.  That was pretty douchy of me and I’m sorry,”.  Abner just smiled at him, “I wanted to make you proud, dad,” he rasped, staring to cry.  Lance wrapped his son in a tight embrace, letting him know how he felt, “I am proud of you, buddy!” Lance sobbed, “I just wished I could’ve seen it sooner, instead of being a dick to you for most of your life,”.
The two boys just sat there for a moment, embracing each other and letting the tensions melt away.  Lance pulled away, wiping his face of any rogue tears that might have fallen.  “Now,” he sniffed, handing the Cal arts letter to Abner, “let’s see what this says,”.
A/N: okay, I was really excited for this and thought it would be really good, but now I realize this was a really sucky idea and I should not have written this.  But, I’m posting it anyway, even though no one will like this because I worked hard on it and I need to post something that isn’t a part of Half Crazy for You.  Sorry if you’re disappointed, I am too.
TAGLIST:
@buckyshattergirl  @paranoid-borderline-insane
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