DreamSMP one-shots ||

// I've been feeling blue, you're the one that I need //

Tubbo is having a bad day, and Ranboo makes him feel better with a dance party in the kitchen :)

title inspired by "Dancing in my room" by 347aidan

TW/CW: Depression, depressive episode, depressive thoughts, trouble eating (not an ED)/ food texture issues
~

"you okay bo?" Ranboo asks softly after flopping down on the bed, slightly mumbled as half his face was squished against a pillow. He laid on his left side, facing his husband who still happened to be in bed, under the duvet and in his pajamas at two in the afternoon.

Ranboo knew Tubbo wasn't okay, of course. He just got like this sometimes; sad and unmotivated to leave their shared bed in fear of— what, Ranboo wasn't exactly sure.

He just got like this sometimes.

Of course Tubbo wouldn't talk about his feelings with Ranboo, so he had to try his best to coax the smaller boy out of his slumps, despite it almost always being futile. When Tubbo was feeling bad, that was usually it. Ranboo would try and try to help him, but unfortunately, Tubbo was made of pure stubborn.

"Bo?" Ranboo asked again after getting no response, afternoon light fighting its way in through the thin blinds of a nearby window.

Ranboo had to stop himself from reaching out and putting an arm around the boy who laid still, facing away from him. Tubbo didn't always like Ranboo's physical affection as it was, and he knew it definitely wouldn't be welcome at a time like this.

Finally, after eons— Ranboo thinks,— Tubbo lets out an annoyed groan. He buries his face into the pillow he laid on, "Leave me alone," The hybrid says, dragging out the 'alone'. "Let me rot here." he says as not to sound too harsh, and something heavy weighs on Ranboo's chest.

"You haven't eaten or drank anything today, it's almost three." Ranboo frowns, wishing more than anything maybe Tubbo will listen and let him help just this once, "Come eat something— humor me." he says, sitting up and looking down at the brunette.

"No." Tubbo says, hugging the pillow, "Not hungry."

"Too bad. You have to eat to survive, you know." Ranboo says. "I refuse to let you 'rot'. How will I be able to tell you my hilarious jokes if you're dead?"

"My corpse will have to suffice." Tubbo mumbles, and Ranboo sighs.

Usually he'd back off by now, not wanting to upset the boy he liked so much. And yet, something was.. different, this time. Ranboo was tired, and this time he didn't feel like giving up and letting Tubbo stew in his unspoken sadness.

"Tubbo—" Ranboo goes to speak after a beat of silence.

"Go away, Ranboo." Tubbo wines, and Ranboo frowns again as he doesn't pick up anything near light-hearted in Tubbo's tone this time.

He's silent for a long moment, and Tubbo's face is still hidden away in the fabric of his pillow. Ranboo knows it's now or never.

He bites his lip, wringing his fingers together and hesitating.

No, this is for his own good. You can do it, Ranboo thinks to himself.

"Get up." Ranboo says suddenly.

"What?" Tubbo asks, finally lifting his head to face his husband— seemingly surprised at his now stern tone.

"You heard me—" Ranboo stands, making his way to Tubbo's side of the bed, "Come on." he holds his hands out in front of the laying boy.

"No. You can't make me." Tubbo says.

Ranboo raises an eyebrow, and takes a risk.

He throws the covers half off Tubbo, revealing his plain grey t-shirt and plaid pajama pants. "Nooo! It's cold!" Tubbo cries, but Ranboo is already a step ahead of him.