War- Torn Child Turned Author with Anxiety

Problems and Paradoxes

        Tubbo is concerned to say the least. His best friend, his brother, didn't realise who was hugging him? He was the only one to ever hold Tommy like this, so why would he think it was Quackity who was hugging him? Before he can ask Tommy why he thought Big Q was hugging him, Wilbur, Ranboo, and Quackity himself arrive.
"Speak of the devil and he shall come to you," he muses as Ranboo bounds over to him, Tommy doing something similar with Q and Wilbur. Tubbo turns to ask Ranboo about what he's been doing with Wilbur, to make sure that the previously dead man actually is doing better like he promised he would.
"What's up with Tommy? He seems...off," Ranboo asks his husband. "Not sure, I was about to ask him before you guys came along," the young sheep responds. After that their conversation is merely whispers of playful flirts and jabs at Wilbur and Quackity.

      Even after minutes of standing a mere foot or two away from him, the couple couldn't help but worry about their friend. Even through their façades of normality, they knew what the other felt deep down. They seen the way that he gently tapped Quackity's arm, almost afraid the duck hybrid may snap at him. "He's so quiet now," Tubbo says while watching Tommys demeanour around the two older males.
      "Let's invite him over for dinner sometime soon, maybe use that as a way to figure out how he's doing and what's going on with him," Ranboo suggests. Tubbo has to hold back the urge to nod his head aggressively and rapidly. "That's a genius idea, beloved," he responds. 'A response would be less suspicious after all,' he decides.
      Soon after they start heading home, and this time their discussion is over how they were going to convince their blonde friend to join them, and what to prepare for him in the first place. Tubbo stops mid-sentence however, because he can smell alcohol. A very sensitive and triggering topic for him, curse his sheep-like enhanced sense of smell.
      "Ran, where do you think that's coming from," he asks. "Where what is coming from," was his clueless husbands reply. "The smell of alcohol, obviously." Ranboo stops to think, and his first thought was Wilbur, but he quickly crosses that off since the scent would of been stronger if that were the case. "Las Nevadas, probably. It is filled with casinos, clubs, and the like," he tells his sheep-like counterpart.
      Tubbo contemplates that for a moment, before blatantly ignoring that idea and swivelling his head around, back to where they had been just minutes ago. He can faintly make out a yellow blob, mixed with blue, red, white, and khaki brown. He watches this blob bring something gray and metallic up to where his lips would be.
     He puts two and two together. He hopes he's overreacting- that his eyes were playing tricks on him or that this was all a lie. He knows his other half, and he knows him well. Tommy knows that alcohol, even just the scent of it, is a trigger of his, so why would he do this? Unless hes doing it cause he thinks Tubbo's far away.
     "Selfish and selfless at the same time, a paradox within a paradox," he supposes before deciding to find a way to subtly ask Tommy about this new "hobby" of his.  Even if, he decides he won't mention it to Ranboo. Not yet at least, it's not that bad, and Tommys not that far gone. 'He'll never be that far gone," Tubbo promises himself.

A/n: how's that for a chapter from Tubbo's perspective? In a Tommyinnit centric fic, no less. Remember you're valid and I love you little birdies <3
          ——Aerie