Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It wasn’t very late in the evening when those with enhanced senses could smell rain coming soon, Ranboo being one of them. She said her goodbyes and swept out the door of the communal Pub, her long violet dress swishing as she walked. Her expensive-looking earrings flashed in the remains of the sunset, catching Tubbo’s eye.

Tubbo watched Ranboo leave. Being of the Bee Origin, he could tell from the slight tension in her shoulders and hands that she was upset about something. Being able to read actions just as well as words was very helpful in determining what someone was feeling.

“What’s up with Ranboo?” Tubbo asked.

Tommy, a blond-haired teenage boy of the Avian Origin, shrugged. “She usually acts like we all killed her dog, Tubbo. Her being upset isn’t a new thing.”

“I know,” Tubbo said, “but this is different. She seems genuinely upset this time.”

Tommy sighed. “If you say so.”

As Tommy slurped at the rest of his Coca-Cola, Tubbo drummed his lower fingers on the tabletop and fidgeted with his glass of cherry blossom nectar with his upper hands. His antennae were twitching around like crazy, still picking up on traces of Ranboo’s adrenaline. What was going on?

He made up his mind. “I’m gonna go see if she’s okay.”

Tommy looked at him like he’d just made the stupidest decision in the world. “Why would you do that?”

“She needs help, and it’s not like anyone else is volunteering.” Tubbo drained the rest of his cup and set it aside. “I’ll be back.”

Tommy’s blue eyes filled with distrust. “Don’t die.”

“Ranboo won’t kill me for asking if she’s okay, Tommy.”

“You never know with her.”

Tubbo rolled his hazel-green eyes before flying out the door, following the faint scent of epinephrine. He figured the buzzing of his wings would give him away, but didn’t really care — he knew where her house was and could also just send her a Whisper later if he didn’t find her in time. Since she was of the Enderian Origin, she usually used Ender Pearls to move around rather than walking.

He finally spotted her, glancing up at the growing clouds in the sky and holding her skirt up so as to not get any dirt on it. Tubbo touched down on the grass a bit ways away from her, his wings’ buzz dying down.

Ranboo’s ears flicked at the noise of his feet touching the grass. She turned around, saw him, and frowned.

“What do you want?”

“I just wanted to check that you were okay,” Tubbo said, ignoring her bitter tone. “You looked upset when you left the Pub.”

Ranboo bristled. “I’m fine. Go away.”

Tubbo folded all four arms over his torso. “I’m not going away until you tell me what’s up.”

She scowled. Anger flashed in her eyes, and Tubbo got a fresh whiff of her adrenaline.

Stress, not anger, he thought.

He sighed. “Come on, Ranboo. What’s wrong?”

Her expression changed from anger to surprise. She studied him for a bit, trying to decipher his intentions, then she huffed. “Nothing. Go away.”

More adrenaline. Lie.

Tubbo raised his eyebrows. “Are you sure?”

“Why won’t you just leave me alone?”

“Because I’m concerned about you.”

Ranboo blinked. Disbelief crossed her face.

“I am,” Tubbo insisted. “I wanna know what’s wrong so I can help you.” He tilted his head and unfolded his arms. “Please?”

Ranboo huffed again. She looked up at the sky, painted blue, pink, and violet. She took a deep breath.

Tubbo remembered then that she really was pretty when she wasn’t angry.

She gave him a glare, though there wasn’t any heat behind it. “I’m running out of fabric.”

Tubbo blinked. “That’s it?”

Ranboo nodded.

He spotted a bit of doubt in her eyes and sensed yet more adrenaline, giving away her lie. Tubbo buried a smile and decided to play along.

“What do you use the fabric for?”

“Making dresses.”

“How often do you make dresses?”

“Every time one gets dirty.”

“Excuse me?”

Her glare held some heat this time. “It’s not like I can wash them, is it?” She snapped. “I’m allergic to water.”

“Oh yeah.” Tubbo fidgeted with the sleeve of his brown-and-yellow-striped jumper, then thought of something that actually might get him on Ranboo’s good side. “What if I helped you wash them so you can wear them again?”

“What?”

Tubbo grinned. “I’d come over once a week to help you with laundry, since you can’t do that yourself. Then you can wear your older dresses again and you won’t have to use up the rest of your fabric.”

And I’ll see you more, he thought. He decided to keep that to himself.

Ranboo set her hands on her hips. She looked back up at the sunset and the growing storm clouds. Tubbo could almost see her thoughts churning under her midnight-black skin.

He held his breath.

She sighed. “Alright then.”

Tubbo exhaled. “Okay. I’ll come by tomorrow, then?”

“Okay.”

Tubbo started buzzing his wings. He hovered there for a moment, watching Ranboo summon an Ender Pearl and throw it over a clump of bushes in the general direction of her house.

He flew back to the Pub, his thoughts buzzing more than his wings with something he thought might have been giddiness.

Why was he giddy to see the least friendly person on the server? Tubbo had no idea.

He just knew he was looking forward to it.

Chapter Text

The words were still ringing in Ranboo’s head as she watched Tubbo fill up a massive tub with water and fabric soap.

What’s wrong?

The words were so foreign to her somehow. Nobody had asked her if anything was wrong in a while. Phil sent her the occasional check-in Whisper to see if everything was going well, but he never asked “what’s wrong.” That wasn’t something she heard very often.

Nobody had cared about her enough to ask that.

Tubbo looked up at her. “Can you get any dirty clothes you have for me?”

“Oh. Sure.” Ranboo went back to her bedroom and picked up the basket full of her dirty clothes and spotted a small bundle of underclothes under the bed.

She swallowed. Then she dropped them into the basket too and brought it out to the front porch, where Tubbo was waiting.

Tubbo took the basket and took out one of Ranboo’s more simple dresses. He dropped it into the soapy water and started rubbing the bright blue stain out of the green skirt, using his lower hands to occasionally gather more bubbles from the water to the stain.

Ranboo sat back on a cushioned chair on the porch and watched him scrub at the dress she’d made when she was thirteen and since had had to readjust to fit her as she’d grown taller. She’d been quite fond of that dress — it was one of the first she’d ever made — but in the four years that had passed since then, she’d spilled something blue on it and hadn’t been able to wear it.

Now, she could wear it tomorrow if she wanted.

They sat in silence for a while until Tubbo started hanging the damp dresses on a clothesline and pulled the underclothes from the basket. Ranboo waited for him to comment on their shape, but he didn’t, just started washing them like it was no big deal.

She shifted, uncomfortable.

Tubbo noticed. “Are you okay?”

She sighed. “I don’t know. I guess I’m just uncomfortable with you literally washing my underwear.”

Tubbo smiled. “I do my own all the time. It’s nothing to be bothered about.”

“I know, but still.” She sat up straight. “I value my privacy.”

He glanced around at the trees stretching around for at least three miles in every direction and nodded. “So I see.”

“They’re also not really made for my gender.”

Tubbo blinked. “What do you mean?”

She huffed and dropped her chin back into her hand. “I’m transgender.”

“I’m transgender.”

Suddenly the extravagant ball gowns and earrings made much more sense.

“Okay.” Tubbo tilted his head, his antennae twitching like crazy in response to her anxiety. “Should I care about that?”

Ranboo raised her eyebrows. “You don’t?”

“Pfft, no.” He smirked. “So what if you’re trans? What’s next, you’re helplessly gay?”

“What?”

“Never mind,” he said quickly. “Why should I care if you’re transgender? You do you, man, I’m not stopping you.”

She narrowed her eyes, perhaps offended by being called “man,” but then sighed like she’d decided she didn’t care that much. “I guess it’s just — my parents kicked me out when I told them I was trans. I haven’t told anybody else but you and Phil so far.”

“Oh.” Tubbo frowned. “I’m sorry.”

She shrugged. “That’s okay. You weren’t there.”

“Your parents are transphobic?”

Ranboo rolled her eyes. “My mom wanted me to be absolutely perfect, a little prince who follows orders and doesn’t talk and only speaks when spoken too and just sits there and lets his parents do everything for him.” She scowled, her two-colored eyes darkening. “I hated that. I wanted to be independent, to live on my own by my own standards. Not at all what they had in mind for me.

“Then when I was twelve, I started wondering if I was trans. At first, it could have been just a sign of rebellion against my parents, but over the next year I felt more female than anything else, so I decided I was transgender. I told my dad and he flipped, then I told my mom and she flipped, and within five minutes I was on the streets, alone.”

Tubbo’s face softened. “Bossman, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”

She shrugged. “Nobody does. I like it that way.”

“Is that why you live out in the middle of nowhere and only wear ball gowns on the rare occasion you come by the Pub?”

A small smile lit up her entire face just the slightest bit. “Partly.”

Tubbo pointed at her. “Well, my dear Ranboo, you don’t need to be extravagant to be feminine. You can wear jeans and a cute shirt if you’d like.”

Ranboo tilted her head. “Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.” Tubbo hung the last piece of clothing on the clothesline and set aside the basket. “Should I come back next week to help out again or no?”

“Hm? Oh, sure.”

He raised his eyebrows. “You seem distracted.”

Ranboo shook her head. “Sorry. It’s just been a while since I had a sincere conversation with someone who . . . cared.”

Tubbo beamed. “That’s what I’m here for!”

As he flew over the treetops about five minutes later, Tubbo tried to figure out why her little smile had filled him with so much dopamine. Was it because he wasn’t used to seeing her happy, or was it because he might feel some affection for her?

He wondered if he’d ever get answers.