#i am a mess right now | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

joelscruff · 1 year ago

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you watched as it happened without him even realizing, like he didn’t have to think about caring for someone else - just doing it, as if he couldn’t help it. KELLI.

Short Days, Long Nights: 14

Joel Miller x f!reader

Series Masterlist

Rating: M (childbirth, PTSD, mentions of grief)

A/N: I tried to make this as non graphic as possible, focusing instead on the emotions of the characters. The entire reason I wrote this fic in the first place, I couldn't have made it through this chapter without the incredible suggestions, support and beta reading of @the-scandalorian and @the-ginger-hedge-witch. I truly hope you enjoy ❤❤

In the blue wash of time between the middle of the night and the dawn, he’s asleep next to you when the first pains start.

Deep at the root of your spine, a low throb blooms. Fading in and out, you try to ignore the manageable ache and when you can’t, your first instinct is to curl in on yourself. So you do just that: rub the heel of your hand against your tailbone, letting your feet slide together in the same rhythmic figure eight you soothe yourself with when you’re really sick.

That motion alone should have been a giveaway, but it doesn’t strike you until the sun is rising that this is something different.

Still, you let him sleep.

On an instinct to be alone, you slip from the bed to go sit out on the porch. Another swell of pain ripples across your back, the sensation still light enough to soothe with a steady rub, and a taut contraction stretches across your hips for a fleeting moment, then disappears.

The sun peeking just above the horizon, you breath low and slow, watching as it makes a steady ascent. The peaceful setting seeps in, blanketing you in reassurance and comfort, and you’re remarkably calm when he comes out of the bedroom in search of you.

Sleep mussed curls and a frown on his face, his arms are crossed tight over his chest as he wards off the morning chill.

“What’s wrong?” His voice is husky and low, thick with sleep.

“I think it’s gonna be today.”

—

He dresses immediately, setting his mind to tasks you’ve discussed for months beforehand in an attempt to calm his nerves. Still, his hands tremble when he walks down to the bank to fill pails with water. He balls them into fists and shakes them in frustration, willing them to stop.

Hours, days: there is no way of knowing how long this is going to take. He hates the uncertainty of it, the edge of danger that you have to teeter upon while he is helpless to stop it. Anything, at any moment, could go wrong and he would have no way of knowing what or how to help you.

He’d be fucking useless, just like he was before.

The guilt he’s always felt creeps through his chest like the fungus that’s infected everything else, settling deep between his ribs. It branches up through his mind, invading his thoughts and the heavy weight of it pulls at him; his shoulders rounding in a slump. His eyes close tight, his fingers digging deep into the damp sand as he braces himself on the ground.

The thick, suffocating terror he felt on Outbreak Day comes back to him easily, a different version of the same brand of helplessness he felt on the day Sarah was born. The same as what he feels now, he feels his chest tighten and constrict, his breathing getting shallower and shallower.

No.

Fighting against it, he shakes himself from the reverie of images: blood, pain, anguish, sobbing. An intensely feral need rises like bile; an urge to burn the world to the ground while screaming just to make sure nothing touches what is his.

Useful to no one if he lets it take over, he pushes it all away. Practiced in remaining calm under pressure, he takes a deep breath, focusing on the water.

In and out, in and out, timing each breath with the gentle lap of waves along the shore.

He speaks silent affirmations to himself - prayers, if he was still a praying man.

He can do this. He won’t fail. He can’t.

Gathering himself, he stands.

“You doin’ okay?” he asks, stepping back into the cabin. Shutting the door tight to keep out the spring chill, he sets the pails of water next to the wood stove and comes to sit next to you on the couch.

“Yea, I’m good.” A grimace of pain flits across your face for a split second, and he shifts to make room for you as you recline on the couch. Grabbing the blanket from across the back, he settles it over you.

“I think I should try to get some rest, but I’m not sure if I’ll be able to sleep.” Even as you say the words, a yawn breaks through.

“You’ll probably need it. Might not be a bad idea, ‘specially if you can sleep through some of the pain.” He rifles through the mix of bottles in front of you on the coffee table, placed there earlier by himself. “I don’t have anything stronger than ibuprofen,” he says apologetically. “But you can have some if you want?”

You wave it away, sliding down on the couch to try and get comfortable. “No, it’s okay. I can do without it for now. It’s not so bad.”

He moves to give you room, and your hand reaches for his, holding it tight.

“Stay with me? I don’t want to be alone when I wake up.”

The open vulnerability on your face pulls him in, the small way in which you ask breaking open his chest, and he immediately sits back, tugging your feet onto his lap.

“Of course, honey. I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

He smoothes over the arches of your small socked feet, letting go when you curl them together, clearly a means to comfort yourself. He instead rests his hand on your shin in a reassuring hold, and watching your eyes flutter shut as your breathing deepens and slows, his veil of control stays in place while his mind begins to free fall.

Panic, guilt, nervous anticipation, panic.

Again he resists, using the warmth of your shin as an anchor.

He’s quiet: sitting with you for a bit, reading a little before giving up, double checking the supplies on the table. Making sure the bed in your old room is covered with a tarp from the shed, some old quilts piled on top of it.

Pacing until he wills himself to stop.

His eyes flick over to you every time he sees you shift in your sleep: your hand coming to rest on your belly, rubbing the underside with a fleeting wince of pain. He watches, and wishes he could take this all from you: every twinge of pain, everything that’s about to come.

The guilt he feels at being responsible for putting you in this position is something he thought he made peace with a while ago, but it flares bright with every small frown between your brows and when you wake with a soft whine of discomfort, he strides to your side immediately, helping you sit up.

Your pained sound grows louder, both of your hands splaying over the source as you clench your jaw, and feeling helpless, he does what he can, rubbing broad circles over your back.

“I’m right here, honey. I’m right here.”

You seem to give into his touch, leaning against it for strength and your fingers dig into the meat of his thigh as you ride it out.

He keeps rubbing, and the next few hours pass much the same: waiting and pain.

–

“Can you hand me that rag?”

The bed dips with his weight as he sits next to you, and wringing out the damp scrap of fabric in his hands, he runs it along your hairline.

“I can do it,” you protest, no real fight in the words as your eyes slip shut.

“I got it.”

You feel as wrung out as that rag, exhausted yet unable to rest. Keyed up with adrenaline, you’re trying to let your body take over and not fight every single contraction, but it’s hard - so hard. Each one wracks your body with a tight, seemingly endless crest of pain that steals the air from your lungs and makes it hard to breathe, forcing you to struggle on instinct alone.

He swipes the fabric along the bridge of your nose, gently guiding your face to the side so he can collect the sweat dusted across your cheeks. You focus on the delicate drag of the cloth, letting your body relax.

“Thank you.”

Not for the first time, he looks at his watch as if it still worked and then immediately away, directing his gaze out the window.

“Seems like they’re getting closer,” he remarks, his hand coming to rest on the hard swell of your stomach. “Does it feel like it?”

“I honestly…I don’t know. It’s hard to keep track.”

He nods and then leaves the room, coming back with a pencil and paper.

“It’s late. ‘Round four, I think, so you’ve been at it about twelve hours. Let me know when the next one starts, and I’ll count it out. I’ll keep track on here.”

He sets the paper down on the bedside table, his hand poised to begin making a chart and you rest your hold on top of his.

“I think…” you lick your dry lips, swallowing. “I think we just go with it. I feel like I’ll know when it’s time?”

If you don’t officially keep track of the time between them, you won’t officially know when it’s time to push but…something about it seems right to you, given the way you’ve learned to live without structured time.

That, and without an official “start time”, you can force your nerves to the bottom of your mind, delaying inevitable pain. Even if only for a little longer.

The stern look he gives you in response tells you how he feels about that answer, and he shakes his head.

“It’s not just about knowin’ when it’s time. It’s about knowin’ when it’s been too long.”

His logic wins over your fear, and a weighted silence lingers between the two of you. Not wanting to acknowledge what that would mean, you let his hand go and curl onto your side. Facing him, you let him know when the next contraction starts, and while he sets his pencil down to hold your hand, you watch his lips move with silent counts.

–

You just… let your body take over.

Existing in a plane of never ending cresting waves of crippling pain that come closer and closer together, you squeeze his hand just as tight as you squeeze your eyes shut with every single one. The fight inside of you fades, instinct ruling instead and needing to have faith in your body to do the right thing without any knowledge to guide you, you just…give in.

You should be terrified at the prospect of it, but you can’t seem to find the strength to care. Your body was built for this, designed for this, has done this very thing billions of times over throughout human existence and giving yourself over to that idea, you find yourself comforted, in a way.

You do what it tells you to do: take deep breaths when you can, curl onto your side into a tight ball when you need to, let tears fall freely from your eyes without embarrassment. You writhe and shift on the bed into whatever position feels comfortable, giving into the instinctual need to seek comfort at whatever cost.

Daylight shifts into twilight shifts into nightfall, and he’s with you throughout the whole thing, as steadfast as he’s always been.

At your side, like he’s always been.

There, like he’s always been.

With his reassuring presence beside you, you descend into a base version of yourself with his hand an anchor.

–

A quiet, formidable strength greater than the brute type he’s capable of emerges, and Joel watches as you close your eyes and draw on resources he didn’t know your body still had.

Underrated and overlooked in terms of survival, you may not have the physical skills he has but your internal strength and will to survive through hope and optimism are more valuable than his skills right now. Awestruck by the shift that happens before him, he wonders if that’s what's always subconsciously drawn him to you: this innate sense that you’ll fill in his blanks, bringing him a sense of peace when his life has known anything but.

You take his weaknesses and mold them into something good instead of a liability, meeting them with strengths of your own. He is responsible for so many things when it comes to you: your life, your well being, your survival. Seeing you now, taking charge of every one of those things with a fierce strength that outmatches anything he can provide in this situation, he not only understands that you have his back just as much, but also that you’ve always had it.

Two halves of a whole, your faith and his competence.

An equal partner, whose qualities shine bright in their quiet, unassuming way.

Your fingers twisted in the sheets, you prop yourself up against the headboard of the bed with a low groan and tell him when you’re ready.

“I think it’s time.”

You barely get the words out before you’re bearing down in taut silence, your jaw clenched and he shifts on the bed, his hands molding over your knees to gently pull them apart.

“Come on, honey. I’ve got you.”

–

His voice calls to you from the depths of your pain, the sound of it muffled behind the blood rushing in your ears and you use it like a beacon, something to focus on. The contractions one on top of another, it’s well past dark outside the cabin when everything seems to happen all at once:

A dark, wet patch of hair emerging; Joel’s eyes widening as his fingers tentatively reach out to touch it.

A sob catching in your throat; fluid soaking the blanket underneath you.

Pain so fierce and overwhelming it makes you lightheaded; a pressure so blindingly sharp and heavy and full that you scream before it abruptly stops, everything sliding out in a slick rush.

“You did it, honey,” he praises you, his head down as he cradles the baby in his hands. “You did it. She’s out.”

She. The sobs you let out are involuntary, a mixture of immense relief and joy paired with the crash of adrenaline and your limbs shake with exhaustion, your head falling back into the pillow he’s propped beneath your head.

It’s only then that the silence in the room comes to your attention.

“Joel?” You wearily push yourself up, trying to see her.

He’s looking down at the mattress with a deep frown of focus, his skin ashen and gray and your stomach bottoms out, panic flooding your chest. Limited as your knowledge is about babies, you know you should be hearing her make a sound right now. Any sound.

“Why isn’t she crying?” you ask, a slight tremble catching the end of the sentence.

He doesn’t answer you, instead staying focused on her, his hands smeared and glistening with blood as one splays over her impossibly tiny chest, his fingers rubbing along the dip of her sternum.

“Come on. Come on.”

His words have a frantic edge to them, one you can hear even with how he’s murmuring the near silent chant to himself and you mirror it, doing the same.

“Come on, baby. Come on.”

A thin whimper breaks the tense silence, her limbs suddenly flaring out in a silent fight against the world, and her timid cry blooms into a bright wail that pierces the air.

Relief floods out of you in sob, his own breaking free in the rush of a heavy exhale, and when he scoops her up, unshed tears glisten in his eyes. Handing her wet body to you, she’s matted and smeared with blood and slick, and she squirms on your bare chest for a moment, your arms automatically cradling her close.

Impossible tiny, just like he said.

“A she.” Your voice thick with tears, you look up at him and he grins down at you, his smile shining bright with pride.

“A she.”

Your cheek comes to rest on the crown of her head when he bends to press a kiss to your forehead and his murmurs against the sweat damp skin there make you cry even more.

“You did it, my girl. You did it.”

–

A slight tremble to his hands as he finishes tying off the umbilical cord, he gently hands her back to you and reaches for the bucket near the side of the bed.

“I’m gonna go empty this, but I’ll be right back.”

You acknowledge him, your arms tightening in their hold on her as you scoot back in your bed. Tucked safely against your chest, she’s already sliding into sleep and you join her, closing your eyes. Fixing the blanket around you, he picks up the bucket and leaves the room.

Night darkens the path as he makes his way down to the water, the setting around him awash in muted colors. Animals moving in their quest to hunt for the night, the fresh spring breeze rustles the new growth on the trees that surround him, but he sees and hears none of it, his vision beginning to tunnel.

Black gathers around the edges of the world, the basin in his hands falling onto the grass. His boots sinking into the sand, he barely makes it to the bank before he’s buckling, knees hitting the soft ground.

The image of the two of you sleeping flashes through his mind, and the pressure in his chest swells and overcomes him, emotion choking his airway. The intensity of the last twenty four hours seeps out of him, the image of her still body as he rubbed life into her fixed behind his clenched shut eyes and finally - finally - he lets it go with big, wracking sobs that pour out, a sound he tries to muffle with his hands.

Relief, relief.

–

June Miller.

A basin of warm water between the two of you on the bed, you watch as he cradles her endlessly moving body in his large hands and bathes her. Her limbs stretch and flex slowly, testing their newfound boundaries and not being able to decide on which face you want to look at more, you shift your gaze back and forth between her scrunched one and his more focused, intent one. He’s careful yet steady with his movements, the gentle splash of water the backdrop to the tiny squawks of protest she lets out.

The lantern illuminates them, a circle of light surrounding their figures in an intensely intimate way and you watch glistening drops of water slide down over his thick wrist as he cups some, pouring it over her hair.

“I know you don’t like it. I know.”

It’s innate, his soothing.

Second nature from the first time he held her and spoke to her, you could tell he’d done this before. His body curled protectively around her as he held her to his broad chest, his movements practiced and confident and you watched as it happened without him even realizing, like he didn’t have to think about caring for someone else - just doing it, as if he couldn’t help it.

Finishing bathing her with the fresh basin of water he brought back from the river, she keeps her eyes closed against the light of the world as he sets her in her cradle, turning to help you from the bed. You brace your hand on his solid shoulder as he kneels, exhaustion thickly blanketing your body as you feel soothing, firm wipes of wet warmth on your skin. He’s just as careful and detailed with it as he was with her, and after he dries and settles you in the bedroom you share with him, he crawls in after you, closing his eyes.

Dawn is breaking when you wake to the sound of a restless, small cry and you leave him sleeping when you go to grab her, bringing her back to bed. Brushing aside the soft blanket that covers her cheek, you look down and see two dark eyes blinking back up at you. Shaped just like his, they stay open.

You want to wake him because it feels…significant, this moment. She’s tiny — dark eyes, a button nose, a dot of a mouth and full little cheeks. Her eyes are open and so are yours and the two of you sit there and just — look. Basking in the strange sensation of silently learning each other, yet knowing each other so well already.

You remember what Joel said, about you and them and the peaceful stillness of sitting in the quiet and your vision waters, a tear slipping from the corner of your eye. More joy than you’ve felt in your whole life, the emotion is overwhelming - as if a beacon of pure, unfiltered light has flooded your entire body, lighting you from the inside out.

She keeps looking, her tiny brow scrunching and you smile down at her, another tear sliding free.

“Joel,” you whisper, and he’s up in an instant.

“Yea?”

It takes you a minute to speak, and his face shifts into alarm.

“What’s the matter? She okay?”

He sits up quickly, scooting closer to see her more clearly.

“Yea,” you reply, sniffing. “Look at her.”

She looks like you, like him, like her own self and you can’t stop looking at her, trying to find fleeting traces of every version.

Mesmerized, he strokes the soft back of her tiny hand over and over with his thumb, and his voice is a low gravel, full of soothing adoration.

“Hey, baby girl.”

#no words #I am a mess right now #this is so beautiful #fic rec

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ancha-aus · 2 months ago

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RealAgeAU Drabble - Crush Gossip

*slides in with a grin* I am here and we are here for a special installment. @spotaus get in here friend!

Blue centered drabble :D

Just as promised :3

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Blue moves the cleaned plates towards the cabinet before returning to the sink. He puts the whiskey glasses in and starts washing them carefully. He really enjoyed the night and their little gyftmas celebration.

Even if some aspects could have gone better. Or not happened at all.

Blue loves Dream. He really loves his best friend. But Dream needs to stop trying to help him by getting Ink to notice him.

It is fine.

A yawn and Blue doesn’t look away from the water “You are up early.”

His brother yawns as he joins his side “You are up early.” He sounds grumpy “You are already finished cleaning?”

Blue nods as he takes care to wash the smaller glasses “Of course. I know how to handle my liquor.” And he shoots Stretch a grin before frowning “Don’t you want to sleep in? Alphys will oversleep today so not notice you skipping work for a bit and Chara isn’t meant to arrive until a few days.”

Stretch huffs unhappily “Yeah yeah I know.” he yawns again as he leans against the counter as he ignores what Blue said to ask his own question “Dream and Ink out already?”

Blue shrugs “Yeah. Dream had to go again or Core would locate him again… and Ink… Well I am pretty sure Ink left midway through the party.” Blue saw how ink had checked his phone before quickly tugging his phone away and packing his things and leaving.

It stung a little.

Stretch nods as he takes the towel before waiting for Blue to finish the first glass so he can dry “It was nice to have them over.”

Blue laughs and nods “It was great!” he smiles.

Stretch chuckles before toying with the first glass “sorry it didn’t… work with Ink.”

Blue pauses before shrugging “It is fine. It isn’t like it is a surprise.” Blue had already known there was no interest anyway.

Stretch frowns at him “Blue… I know you… I know you were excited to have Ink over. You are allowed to feel disappointed.”

Blue sighs as he gives the next glass over “It isn’t a big deal” he rushes to wash the other glasses.

Stretch frowns at him “I disagree… Blue you-”

Blue pushes the last glass into his hands “There! All clean! If you can finish that up I will go to quickly fix our puzzles!”

Stretch doesn’t make a move to dry the glasses “You just said Alphys will sleep in anyway and not notice.”

Blue nods as he puffs his chest “Doesn’t mean I have to skip too! You enjoy your morning! Make sure to drink a lot of water and you know where the medicine is and-” and Blue gets stopped by magic by the front door.

Damnit he is blue now.

Stretch speaks calmly “Blue. I want to talk about this. Now.”

Blue sighs but doesn’t fight the magic and let it guide him to the couch. Stretch puts the glasse son the drying rack and joins him.

Stretch leans back against the couch “So… the mistletoe… Did Dream tell you he was planning that?”

Blue groans and shakes his skull “No… I didn’t even realise Dream added that with decorating… I found out when he pushed us under it and pointed it out.” he rubs his cheek “If I had known I would have removed it.”

Stretch nods as he leans back “Why? I thought you like Ink?”

Blue sighs as he waves his hands “I do! But it is more complicated than it just being a matter of me liking him!”

Stretch nods along and waits as he looks at him expectingly.

Blue stares at him before crossing his arms “Ink blocked my number… I don’t know why.”

Stretch looks shocked “But I thought you two were friends?”

Blue rolls up more “We are… I don’t understand why… I wasn’t even asking anything out of the ordinary or weird. Just asked him how he was doing and if he wanted to hang out with Dream and me… When I didn’t get a reply for a few hours I send him another message to ask if he was busy. Only to get an automated message back stating the number I was trying to reach had me blocked.” It was a thing they all agreed on with the multiverse phones. That if you blocked someone they should be able to know. Mostly because if it is an emergency so you don’t waste your time with messaging someone who won’t ever see your messages.

Stretch frowns “Yet… he came to the party?”

Blue shrugs “Just because Dream asked…” Dream had asked for Blue but Blue wouldn’t be surprised if Ink just wanted to come because of Dream. Blue can’t really blame him for that either. Dream is a god like Ink. And Blue is… well very mortal.

Stretch leans back “huh… strange.”

Blue sighs “Not that strange. Dream can be very convincing when he wants to be.” Which is putting it mildly.

Stretch laughs and nods “I noticed… No the strange thing is that if Ink really didn’t want to be near you he wouldn’t have gone to a private Gyftmas party in your universe.” Stretch raises a brow “Sure he has a bad memory but he should know that at least.”

Blue frowns and shrugs “I guess… I just think he wanted to be near Dream.” Which he honestly isn’t mad about. Disappointed maybe but not mad. It isn’t like it is Dream’s fault and Dream is really trying to get Ink and him to hang out. It isn’t Dream’s fault if Ink prefers to be near him over Blue.

Stretch hums “I guess.” He shoots him a curious look “Why do you even like him?”

Blue groans as he searches for the words “It is hard to explain? I don’t even know when I started to feel like this. At first I just admired him I guess? He was a protector. Of the multiverse at that. It was just… He was what I wanted to be. Someone who did good and protect people. And then I learned he didn’t just protect others but also made more worlds? He was just… He was just the coolest person and I admired him and then I got the chance to travel with him and Dream and I just… those feelings got so much more when I got to know him.”

Stretch snorts “How? He almost destroyed our world… Why like him still?”

Blue frowns as he rubs his arm “I guess… I guess it made him look like just any other person… someone who can make mistakes. He felt more real to me after that. It also helps he helped clean up that mess and made sure our world came back the way it was meant to be.” Blue sighs as he rubs his hands “Him and Dream… After you they were the only ones who believed I could do this thing. That I could protect people and everything.” Blue doesn’t know when exactly he started to feel what he feels for Ink.

Stretch hums before groaning “It is just… You are so out of his league!”

Blue blinks and stares at Stretch “What do you mean? He is a god! I am me.”

Stretch nods “Exactly! He needed all those godly powers and stuff to do what he does. You don’t. You are amazing all on your own Blue. You always believe the best in people and believe everyone deserves another chance. You are willing to look past mistakes, the situation with Ink even proves that. You are always willing to help others. You don’t believe in killing anyone but will protect those who need it. Blue you are an amazing person. And I just can’t see how you could like Ink and why you are afraid you aren’t good enough for him.”

Blue feels so embarrassed. It isn’t as if Stretch never compliments him. Hell he always says he is the most amazing every other day. But that felt more like… brothers just being supportive. This feels like more. Maybe just because it is about Ink?

Blue mutters “It doesn’t matter… He hasn’t wanted to hang out with me alone for ages now…” he sighs as he crosses his arms and lays them on his legs to try and relax.

Stretch frowns as he thinks “Maybe he… remembered what he did and feels guilty?”

Blue huffs as he looks to the side “He would have to choice to feel that. He needs his paints to feel… Look I knew from the start this crush was hopeless okay?” he hugs his legs closer “And it isn’t his fault he can’t feel like normal monsters can… or that he lacks a soul… I don’t blame him for any of that. That would be stupid. I know he has no interest in me like that…” it is why Blue feels so bad about Dream trying to help set them up.

Blue laughs as he rubs his socket as he feels the itch “If he likes anyone it would be Dream as Dream used to be able to make him feel things at least a little… Now however? I don’t know.” he lays his cheek on his leg.

Stretch frowns before nudging their shoulders together “Well… We can’t know either way. They are gods. Hell if we know what their reasoning is.” He smiles “Maybe he is just busy or distracted? And he accidentally blocked your number?”

Blue shrugs but lets himself lean against his taller younger brother “I guess.”

Stretch hums as he leans his skull on top of his “My point still stands. You are allowed to be disappointed.”

Blue shrinks in on himself “It is just stupid. I knew it was never going to work… Even if he felt anything for me it wouldn’t work as he is a god and I am not.” And he doesn’t want to be an outcode. He can’t give up his world and brother. He already almost lost both once before and he can’t deal with that. “It is just…” he feels sad “I just thought maybe he wanted to send some time with me… that we could just enjoy some time together as friends. But I guess even that isn’t that important to him anymore. Maybe it never was.”

Stretch leans heavily on top of him “You don’t know what he is thinking Blue. Maybe he really is just very busy with god stuff. Don’t you always say that you can’t assume what other people are thinking?”

Blue feels embarrassed but nods “I do… It is just… hard sometimes…” It just makes him feel worse for not being able to follow his own advice.

Stretch hums “Why not tell Dream? That you appreciate his help but know it isn’t going anywhere?”

Blue sighs and mutters “Because I did but Dream doesn’t believe in anything being impossible.” Stupid gods and their meddling.

Stretch laughs “I can imagine. Why not tell him it bothers bothers you?”

Blue shrugs and mutters “I don’t want to worry him. He is already dealing with a lot and well… It isn’t like a stupid hopeless crush is that bad of a situation…”

Stretch hums “I guess…” He thinks for a moment before grinning “Wanne see if we can meet up with the others? Just the six of us to explore some unsuspecting universe?”

Blue blinks and grins at Stretch “Seriously?”

Stretch grins and shrugs “Paps and I haven’t bothered Edge into relaxing for a while. It will be good for that stick in the mud.” He grins.

Blue blinks before nodding “Yes.”

Stretch grins as he pulls out his phone and starts texting “You get dressed. I will start up the machine.” And he blinks out of view.

Blue goes to his room and gets dressed. His hands pausing on which bandana to wear. His hand hovers over the grey one with beautiful blue details. He had gotten that in a present the year before and Blue never figured out who gave it to him. He had hoped that… well it doesn’t matter now. Blue quickly grabs his normal blue bandana and rushes down to meet up with his brother.

Stretch grins as he holds up his phone “I got confirmation from everyone that everyone is down. Sans is setting up the coordinates for us already and Edge is bringing snacks.”

Blue smiles as he wiggles in place. It will be nice to just enjoy some time with his dear friends. Just to take his mind of his hopeless love life.

Hell maybe he, Edge and Paps can go clubbing! That has been a while and will be nice to relax and let go a bit.

The machine starts up and a beautiful green portal opens. Stretch and him step through to enjoy a day out.

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#utmv #realageau #Swap Sans #Blue Sans #swap Papyrus #Stretch Papyrus #Blue has some issues with his crush #He knows it is silly to like someone who is soulless but sadly you can't pick who you like.#Blue honestly has accepted it but is just a bit sad about it.#He also gets why a god wouldn't be interested in him.#Dream does not agree. blue is the best and by the gods dream is going to make ink see this #Stretch meanwhile doesn't get WHY blue even likes ink :/ guy is a mess and a half and that is stretch saying it #So stretch decided to take Blue on a trip to their OG friends and the six of them are going to relax and have fun.#In my heart original Tale Fell and Swap will always be besties #No the groups don't understand why they like hanging out so much and why the friendship works.#Waht else... oh right!#Ink: ... what do i do?#Error: Why do you ask me?! he is your friend! Just message him!#ink: I cant :/#error sighs: why not?#ink: ... i blocked his number.#error: ... WHY DID YOU DO THAT?!#ink: I panicked!! How do i explain i suddenly feel stuff slightly now that i am like god ascended?!#Error: .... just tell him?!#ink: I can't! He already doesn't want to be Dream's acolyte. Dream's! You know. His bestie?! Why would he even hang with me after my messes #Error just so done with all the dramas he gets mixed up in. He wants to watch them. not be involved.

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