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He often found himself surrounded by friends and family- well... friends at least, he didn't actually have any family- found maybe but no one truly wanted the boy as a son... as a brother, you know? Which he was fine with- friends were great, his friends loved him! ...They loved him. Yeah.
It wasn't often but somedays he would be with Tommy, yelling and chasing each other around- respawning every few minutes, but seeing the blond be able to go home to someone always made him a little jealous... at the end of the day all he had were, was, well... actually, Spinz and Spanz were gone- it was just him alone wasn't it? Especially now that he had to sleep in a cold, plain bed in the Whitehouse. Alone... sure, he shared the space with Schlatt and Quackity- Fundy on the off days too, but they never went out of their way to talk to him. He always guessed it was because they would see him chat with Tommy around the outskirts- they never stopped him though, acted like it didn't happen, but kept their words and secrets close.
He wished he had someone though, wished badly for a brother to care for him or a father to dote on him- something... the cabinet seemed to forget he was just a child, a teenager in an adult's role, didn't care that, what was essentially, isolation was messing with his brain- killed his dopamine levels, made his serotonin low... but they didn't really listen when he mentioned it. He gave up-
God he wished he had a family to go home to.
The only family he really had lived in Pogtopia, but they weren't his, they were Tommy's. Tommy... he wished he was more like Tommy, able to take a joke- able to be loved and accepted...
That's not right- he was... he was... right? He was... was he really? Did he ever actually... Maybe...
That didn't matter, he was- no, no he...
Tubbo shook out his head, fingers twitching anxiously before looking over to Schlatt, tuning back in to listening. Today was a happy day, his day to shine- he shouldn't be spacing out and having these terrible thoughts. He listened, smiled when he got to take his spot at the podium, started his speech and kept fingers curled on top of the wood. He was so excited- but...but Schlatt, god he was interpreted- why was he being boxed in? Why was Techno being called up- no, please- please. This was Techno- his... Tommy's brother, he'd never hurt him- why was there a crossbow? Why was it pointing at him? What was that hissing- why did his chest feel hot, what was this feeling?
God he hated waking up at spawn, always hated the cold there and feeling the tingle of the killing blow- the white-hot pain he always felt but no one else experienced. He'd probably hate his newest scar too.
And he was right, he ended up hating the giant burn splattered across his chest, hated the specks decorating his throat and cheek like some kind of picture. Tommy said it was badass, but when he saw it all he could feel was fire in his system and pressure behind his eyes. He wished it would stop.
It wouldn't.
Being around Pogtopia made it worse, it was too small, Techno was too close, the gunpowder scent was everywhere- the puddles were too many in number- he couldn't be there anymore. He couldn't... did he belong anywhere? Never felt like it...
But... he had to stay in Pogtopia, in the too small ravine with a betrayer and his insane brother and his best friend-
it was suffocating, he wished Tommy was able to tell when he was scared- when he needed some kind of hug and reassuring words- a comforting touch and a smile instead of a casual stab in the gut or harsh, teasing worsd- but Nikki was here- at least...
At least he has Nikki- to keep him sane... but she was also so scared- he never wanted to bring it up, never wanted to say his worries and instead showered her in hugs.
Sometimes he wished he was stronger, less lonely, able to be a good rock and maybe- just maybe he wished this world had no respawn on.
But then he wouldn't be here, sitting in the stands after one of the largest battles of his lifetime- watching the power pass from Schlatt to Wilbur to Tommy and now...
Now him
Sure he was lonely, and heavy is the head that wears the metaphorical crown... but he was glad for once that he stayed here.
Lookin out for the little guy, he'd prioritize that- listening to his people... He wants to be a good, kind president unlike his predecessors.
And that was that.