#because no one did nothing i just have depression

[sagethesmol1]

the fast clips in tommy’s new video :)

i can’t watch back my old videos because everyone in them wasn’t who they said they were. do you know how sad this makes me feel. do you know how sad i have been all year.

When I was a boy, alone, this means everything to me. I found my people. My place. And along the way I was part of something that really meant something. This is the only good bit of this. Whatever I did that meant something, that’s the good bit.

Status is irrational and nature is cyclical. it’s attention porn. Don’t get addicted to it. It’s nothing. It means nothing. They are more insecure than you. But what the fuck [can’t read the last bit]

How could anyone possibly find out who they are when you are all immersed in the needless, self indulgent spiral of instant gratification. This is not good for you.

I don’t think I trust anyone here. I don’t think anyone trusts anyone here. the poor 12 year old watching this sad ass video when he subscribes for funny minecraft video. poor guy lmao

yeah i know it’s too much like bo burnham. It won’t be in a year though. In a year it will be like Tom Simons. Just let me figure out what that means, OK?

I used to feel like I was doin everything wrong. That i just wasn’t as smart or good like any of my friends. I realized I was the only one doing the right thing. I just would to have fun. What i’d do to get that back, my god. What id do to for things to be simple again.

I just don’t want to slip back into who I was. A year ago, I needed you. A year ago, all my self-esteem and worth and love came from you. A year ago i wasn’t happy unless you were. I don’t think I can ever do that again. That was really wrong. How did I possibly end up there.

If you find a corner of this world wide web with any substance at all, please stick to it. The hundreds of millions of people that now place absolutely no value on their time, their precious time, and spend it watching soulless content designed to hold their attention is depressing. This all depressed me. There is so little substance in this mess of a world wide web, so little art or soul or love. If you find any substance, stick to it.

A tribute to Minecraft. The Great Potato War. TheOriginalAce’s Q&A’s. Ludwig’s 2020 Streams. SMPLive Talent Show. This was everything to me.

oh my god please help him

The fast clips in Tommy's new music video

[poisonousquinzel]

they deserved better idc 😐

[calliopesdiary]

i wish i were heather...

synopsis: you were under the impression that you were stable in your secret long-term relationship with three of the four marauders, until it becomes clear that you aren't the girl they want anymore. (so you think). will you lose them before its too late? or have you already?

pairings: fem!reader x poly!marauders ` poly!marauders x lily evans

warnings: NO LILY SLANDER!! SHE'S PERFECT AND BEAUTIFUL AND ITS NOT HER FAULT!!, cusswords, ANGST, depressing, a blip of reader skipping meals on the radar but it's srsly nothing crazy, insecure reader, the marauders besides peter are dicks, reader is a little naive, the marauders borderline cheat on you, no happy ending, there might still be one thoughhh, possibly slytherin!reader if you squint?,

part one in the conan gray series

A/N!!: In some of the fic i use colors to represent a certain character! Orange is Lily, Red is James, and Green is Barty :3

wc; 2.4k

LIFE WAS AMAZING, which is not usually how stories begin.

You felt so safe and secure in your secret relationship with Hogwarts' once most eligible bachelors... The Marauders.

The rush of excitement that coursed through your veins every time you shared a hidden glance with Remus, or hiding in the showers of the Gryffindor boys locker room with James after his quidditch victory, and sneaking off to empty classrooms where anyone from anywhere could catch you with Sirius.

It was heavenly, these boys were all you would ever need.

until... now.

You were in Remus' sweater, he said it looked better on you than it did him. If only he knew how much you liked him...

The fireplace erupted with a citrine glow, illuminating the Gryffindor common room beautifully.

Most impactfully, it lit up Remus' scar-kissed features.

His freckles looked as if they were painted onto his face with careful hands by a renaissance painter.

His eyes half-lidded from his lack of sleep from the incoming full moon that was slowly approaching, it pained you to know how much they hurt him.

For once, Remus wasn't in a sweater. Since his was rested comfortably on your body, as your scent comforted The Wolf greatly.

And his scent comforted you, too.

Remus' book had suddenly landed on your lap, and though it startled you a bit. You didn't bother to ask why, until you sat up.

Remus was locked in a passionate conversation with Gryffindor's resident golden girl, Lily Evans.

"Evans, it's lovely to see you."

"Same to you, Lupin."

Godric, was she beautiful.

"I just stopped by to see if you had gotten any of the Defence Against The Dark Arts homework done?"

Lily Evans was as radiant as an angel who blessed anyone with her presence.

"I have; actually, I just finished my paper."

Remus seemed mesmerized by her, the golden gleam from the fire painting her features gorgeously in that same citrine glow as Remus'.

"Could I have a look of it? Not to copy it- obviously, I just want to see how others are wording the question."

You weren't even half as pretty as Lily.

"Of course, and I know you'd never cheat."

"You're the smartest witch in our year."

You tried not to mind other girls flirting with your boys.

Just because you knew that later that night they'd be back to your boys again, and only yours.

As she was about to go, she planted a soft kiss on the side of Remus' cheek, leaving him blushing softly as he bid her goodbye.

Your heart clenched, it was merely a pleasantry. You were being dramatic.

"Are you alright, dove?" Your head perked up at the sound of Remus' voice.

"Hm? Yeah, I'm fine." You mused, albeit a bit absentmindedly.

"Are you tired?" He asked carefully.

"I am, actually..." You forced a sweet smile onto your lips, as he leaned down to kiss them softly.

That kiss was the last one that felt anything more than a chore, an obligation.

That was also your last kiss with Remus.

Cheering James on at the quidditch pitch was just the thrill you needed after that melancholy moment with Remus.

He soared through the field like he was on top of the world, the players scattered around the pitch for one common goal: to win.

Gryffindor had won the game with 60 points, and James had caught the snitch like usual.

This game was also a rain game.

Just as you were about to head down to showers when you spotted Lily excitedly trailing after James.

You knew full well that James chased Lily tirelessly since they started school, that was also well before you came into the picture.

You also knew that she wanted nothing to do with him or the other marauders, so what was with her infatuation now?

Why your boys? She couldn't find her own boys?

But maybe she was just being friendly, right? The boys would never ever cheat on you... right?

You heard Lily giggle as James so graciously held the curtain open for her to enter the locker room, and your heart clenched.

You followed them in, jealously.

"James?" You called, as James poked his head from the changing area. Sweat glistening off his abs.

"Hi, Y/N." He shut the curtain behind him, as if he had something to hide.

Also; he barely just called you by your first name.

"You didn't come to see me after the game?" You questioned, grazing his cheek gently as he spoke."

"Sorry, Y/N. It was a long one." He excused, as he clearly looked a bit flushed.

"You look red, are you dehydrated?"

"Godric, y/n. you are hardly my mum."

You giggled as if it was a joke, yet he seemed quite stone faced.

You cleared your throat embarrassingly once you realized.

"I... just wanted to congratulate you on another win." You forcefully smiled again.

"Thank you, I really appreciate that." Then, he flashed his classic grin at you.

The grin he hadn't flashed at you since he realized he genuinely liked you.

What the fuck?

"Victory kiss?" You asked quietly, with some false hope mixed in.

"Of course." He pecked your forehead quickly, before hurrying off back to his changing area.

And with that, you had also left the steamy tent and outside into the cool, soft rain once more.

A forehead kiss? whenever he used to give you victory kisses they'd be full-on make outs in that same changing room or the showers.

James was falling out of love with you, and you knew it.

Luckily, you could easily disguise your tears with the excuse of it raining.

"Victory kiss?" Lily mewled, from her position on the stool in his changing spot.

"Just on the forehead, lovely."

You stopped showing up to breakfast, as the one time you decided to go Lily was sat in your spot next to Sirius.

Dorcas was nearly at her wits end with the boys and their antics.

The motley crew of Slytherins were the only ones who knew of your relationship, and they were pissed off.

"Treasure, surely they aren't fucked enough to know that you are the best thing they've ever had!" Barty explained, laying upside-down on his bed across from you.

"I-It's no use, Jr." You cried softly, mirroring his position yet on your bed instead. The tears (and blood) rushing to your hairline instead of your face because Dorcas said 'Your makeup is too pretty to ruin, love.' .

"There is a use, Y/L/N. we'll kill them-"

"Jr, absolutely not." Regulus chided, rubbing your shoulder. "She's clearly upset, I don't see the issue."

"Murder is never a good option, Barty." Dorcas scolded gently.

"So what are we gonna do then? My Treasure can't go on like this!"

"You said you've already talked to James and Remus? Maybe you can go talk to... eh... Sirius." Clearly, that name was hard for Regulus to get out.

"*Sniff* yeah, yeah- I'll go talk to him..." You sat up half-hazardously, and strutted out of the dorm-room to go (hopefully) save your relationship.

You still remember the third of December.

Sirius lounged on the couch while speaking with the other marauders, about some sort of prank on the other group of Slytherins.

"And then, we'll-"

"Hi, Siri." You sat next to him, beaming up at him (hopefully).

"...y/n." He greeted casually, before continuing to talk.

Your smile faded, as he continued to talk to your other boyfriends friends about this horrible prank.

Instead of leaving, you sat quietly next to them, as if you were some decoration or trophy wife.

This was truly your breaking point, as you saw Lily sit down on the couches of the common room as she caught all of their attention, you hadn't seemed to do that for ages. Though, she was wearing something familiar...

Remus'... sweater...

Remus'- YOUR Remus' sweater.

"How's it look?" Lily asked, giving them a twirl. Their eyes locked on her.

"Gorgeous, doll." Sirius flirted, shooting her a wink.

"Truly a sight for sore eyes." James grinned.

"It looks better on you than it did me." Remus took her hand and helped her sit down on the couch in between him and James.

That's exactly what he said to you...

He put his arm 'round her shoulder,

suddenly you got colder.

She's got them mesmerized... while you die.

But how could you hate her?

She's such an angel...

But then again you wished she were dead.

"Why would you ever kiss me?" You asked impulsively.

"What?" James looked up from Lily, all eyes on you.

"I mean- I'm not even half as pretty."

"Y/n, You're overthinking it-" Remus started it.

"You gave her your sweater!" You shot back.

"It's just polyester!" Remus defended.

"But you like her better." You felt the tears rush to your waterline.

"We're done." You whispered, leaving Lily looking so confused and the common room dead quiet.

"What does she mean by that...?" Lily seemed horrified.

"We... weren't really dating.." Sirius attempted to defend.

"Yes, we were, you tosser!" James shoved him.

"You said yourself that you were bored of her!" Remus stated matter-of-factly.

"Was I seriously the other woman?" Lily mewled, her hands clutching the sides of her head.

"Nonono- No, we were planning to break up with her but- because we all wanted you-" Sirius tried again.

"Then don't fuck around with her feelings just to get me!" Lily yelled, standing up quickly.

"I appreciate the admiration- but I need time to process, okay? You all were absolute... arseholes to her, I'll admit." Lily started,

"Are you saying no?" James quickly cut in.

"...No..." Lily ended.

After crying your eyes out to Barty and Regulus over your breakup, December 7th rolled around.

The day that students were meant to be studying for their OWLS and other end of term exams.

You would usually be in the library 24/7.

Lily, had finally come around and accepted the boys' proposal, and their relationship became public quickly.

Lily obviously still felt this bitter taste of guilt in her mouth, as did all of them.

So today, Lily had convinced them all to apologize to you for borderline cheating and lying and manipulating and gaslighting-.

But, you were nowhere to be found.

"Regulus! Regulus, wait up!" Lily ran through the hallways to get to her.

"Evans, Brother.. Potter... and Lupin.." She said those last three names with utter disgust.

"We're trying to find Y/n, have you seen her?" Remus asked quietly, he was definitely feeling the most guilt.

"Y/n? Well, If she was here, I think she'd completely refuse to see you lot." Regulus explained bluntly.

"W-What do you mean "If she was here"?" James questioned.

"I mean, Her, Junior., and the Rosier twins completed their OWLS early and hightailed it to Junior's holiday house for the rest of the break." He explained casually.

"What?" Sirius scowled.

"What the hell is my girl-... Y/n doing with them?" James had the same expression as Sirius.

"They are simply better friends then you were to her, hm? I don't blame her."

"When will she be back?" Lily asked breathlessly.

"End of December, If she ever returns." Regulus strolled away, potions book in hand.

"...We fucked up."

Fin.

[s1m0nth3swag]

Could you write “How would Viktor does when reader has depression”.

Of course! Thanks for the ask pookie :)

These r a little short because I am still ill (and my head is literally killing me as I type this) but Viktor is more important than getting well!! (Also bawling my eyes out after act 3, even though I'd still love Viktor nonetheless, machine or not, he's getting it)

WARNINGS/ CONTENT INFO: Mentions of Depression (obviously), GN!Reader, sweet Fluff, Viktor has no clue what he's doing in all honesty, he tries (and succeeds) to be sweet

2 Stories - One more casual/not yet dating and the other is established relationship

You've been off lately, Viktor had noticed. Isolating yourself bit by bit, looking more tired and overall acting just weird. You've had your phases before, but this one was too long. It wasn't like you at all. You've barely even spoken to him or Jayce, when usually you'd yap both their ears off about whatever topic you had learned about the previous night. Now, the lab was silent. Jayce was away on some Council party, and god knows Viktor would never start a conversation on his own while working. Though, he couldn't focus tonight. He mindlessly tinkered with small parts that laid around his desk, his thoughts clouded with the question of what was bothering you. Whatever it was, it bothered him as well. He'd never say, but he missed the cheery and chipper way you'd usually be.

"Are you... alright?" He questions after a while, clearing his throat slightly. This was already too awkward for him, but he did care. Totally just because the atmosphere of the lab would suffer if you weren't your usual self. He noticed the way you shifted uncomfortably as he glanced over to where you were sitting, like you were pondering how to answer. He wondered why you'd need so long to think of an answer, as if you couldn't tell him the truth. "I'm fine. Just a little tired, I just haven't been sleeping well." You answer, a soft, akward chuckle slipping from your lips. Viktor doesn't like that answer. You're different from how you are when you're just tired - not that he actually paid attention to that, but you weren't on your fifth cup of coffee yet. Actually, you hadn't had coffee at all today, another unusual happening. He sighs softly, and you immediatly know that he's gotten into questioning mode - he was a scientist after all. He really couldn't help it. "You can talk to me, you know? We don't have to be lab partners and nothing else, we can be friends." He speaks, his voice softer than before. "What's bothering you, hm?" Viktor adds, turning his chair around to look at you properly. It's your turn to sigh, letting your head hang slightly. "I've just been... feeling off. Like, actually tired but in a mental way? I don't know how to explain." You mutter, awkwardly averting your gaze from him. "We should take a day off, then. Do whatever you want instead of working." Viktor answers casually. "I don't want to miss important stuff in the lab Viktor, I can't take a day off." You throw back at him. He huffs, a slight chuckle filling the room. "Not you. Us. Maybe all three, if Jayce is willing." He clarifies, already noting it down in his notebook to make sure that day off actually happens.

Viktor noticed the moment he woke up next to you. You'd fallen into another slump. He could tell just by the way you didn't just not want to get up - it was a physical challenge for you. He's seen you like this before, though usually it didn't last too long, at least not that he's noticed, maybe only a day or two at most. But by now, it's been almost a week, and you haven't spoken to him about it. You've been more abrasive, have started caring less about your personal hygiene, and while Viktor doesn't mind, he always hated when you didn't take proper care of yourself. He wanted you to feel good, not fall into a depressive hole. He offered to take a shower or bath with you, to make a game out of brushing your teeth, but you had shut everything down. It wasn't because you didn't think the ideas were sweet, but more because you didn't think you even deserved that much effort. Viktor had to helplessly watch you get worse, and he couldn't even do anything to properly help. It was absolute hell to him.

He'd had enough, wanted to be mad at you, even, but he couldn't blame you for it. He could, however, force you to stay cuddled up in bed with him. You liked staying in bed anyway, and cuddling with him was always one of your favourites. So, here you two were, snuggled into the covers of Viktors way too confortable bed. "You know that I love you, right?" Viktor mumbled, his accent more heavy with sleep. He didn't say it enough, at least that's what he thought. "I do know..." you answered, just as sleepily. "I know you can't control this.. but let me help you, please? I know it's hard, trust me I do, but I hate having to watch from the sidelines as you get worse..." He sighs, pressing a kiss against your forehead. "Let me just be there for you, yeah, my dear?" Viktor adds, pulling away slightly to look at you. "Alright.. I'll... I'll try, I promise." You answer, scooting back towards him so you could press your face into the crook of his neck, basking in his warmth for a little longer.

[spacecatdraws]

oh. this is interesting…

random personal lore drop below

(tldr: I don’t believe I can be a real system but I’m sure as hell not normal)

TW: (minor mentions) gvns, r@p3, d34th, (major mention) su1c1d3

I called myself endogenic because I don’t qualify as traumatized.

let me explain.

I’ve had anxiety, depression, ADHD, and other unidentified issues for my whole life. I roleplayed because it was my escape, life made me want to stop living so why would I stay there? When I was writing or drawing I was those characters, buried in their minds, filling in their bodies, but something would pull me back to reality and I’d feel it crumble. Some characters stayed longer than others. Slowly, I found out they weren’t character’s I had just made up; they were my theriotypes. I left it at that, that I was just a polytherian. But I’m not my types. I share a body with them. I have conversations with them, they care about me, we cuddle as best we can when there’s only one body to share. I love my parents. I love my friends. But life has always been terrifying to me. Sometimes things I’d never experienced would make me cry and hyperventilate. Gunshots make me freeze up and stop breathing. Mentions of sexual assault, of rape, of murder make me want to throw up and cry. Child abuse and childloss make me vengeful like I have nothing but rage. Labels and rules make me sick and dizzy. Poisoning and sickness make me feel like I’m drowning in them. I can’t recognize myself sometimes. My body isn’t mine. I always assumed I was just an odd therian. i learned about systems, and they described the things happening in my head. Some days I tie the door to my room shut because I want to starve and die and crumble so badly. But I always said to myself “my family and friends are fine, so I can’t be traumatized. It’s all in my head, and I’m a failure and a faker for ever thinking that I could be anything else. I’m just being a poser and hurting these people who have been through so much worse.” I believed so deeply that my issues were insignificant and that I didn’t have nearly enough mental problems to be a true system. I said to myself “I don’t have trauma. So I can’t be a DID system. But system is so comforting of a label, so I must be endogenic, and therefore I shouldn’t talk to anyone about my issues because I will just be taking away from people who truly are traumatized.” I never felt like I belonged in supporting spaces because I never got raped or shot or manipulated by my family or friends, even though those things dragged flashbacks from lives I never had, memories from the others in my body. My parents loved me, and my friends cared about me, so I wasn’t traumatized. I have no trauma, so I didn’t deserve to be in those spaces.

There are six of us. The host tries their best to take care of us, but takes out their emotions through cutting and starving themself. This isn’t my body. These aren’t my parents. I can tell these people care, but they’re not mine. I can’t remember what I did for most of the day. It’s all just fog. Fog and static.

If all endos are fake and posers, then I must be one too. Even though I hear my packmates, the others in this body, I love them so dearly, and I can feel their limbs and the memories are so strong it hurts me physically.

I can’t be truly traumatized, right? Not if my family was good.

Not if my friends were nice.

Even though this world makes me want to hang myself…

I don’t count as traumatized enough to be a true system.

I am nothing but a fraud.

ENDO LORE?????!????

[thunder-wolf64]

Ugh okay I'm about to get very not silly.

Content warning for: Sexual Assult, Body image issues, self harm, probably some depression.

Hmm. I want to talk about this incase I can give strength to anyone else. I know my problems are not as bad as others, but that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt and it's not valid.

Ive mentioned my fear of small children, I've mentioned really not liking a family friend (to a point that being forced to stay in a cabin with them made me feel so bad I dug my nails into my skin and scarred my arm and hand)

This all partly relates to one incident many years ago. I dont remember how old I was? Must have been earlier middle school?

The family friends I'm referring to have a son. He's a lot younger than me. He's neurodivergent in some way, he doesn't have the best idea of social anything.

I was staying at the family friends' cabin, my family and theirs. There was a guest cabin. I had just taken a shower to clean off the lake water. I was standing in the guest cabin looking at myself in the mirror by the beds, brushing my hair. I had major body image issues with good ol' puberty. I hated how I looked and i felt shameful when my shirt clung to my chest extra tight. I knew I would dry off more, and it would be less form fitting. I thought i could just stay in the guest cabin until then.

Then all the little kids, the boy and my two sisters, burst in, chasing each other around as kids do. I was still brushing my hair.

Something immature boys find funny is the word "boobs" he laughed at me and kept repeating the word. I adjusted my shirt as best I could I wanted to tell him off, but I was scared I would get in trouble if I made him upset.

I went back to looking in the mirror and brushing my hair. He ran past, giving my boob a poke as he sprinted out the door, my sisters in tow. That was it. That is what the warning was for. A touch. Over in a second.

I was panicked, I didn't know what to do. I sat on the bed for awhile, crying and thinking of what to do. It felt like forever. And as embarrassing as it is to say... at that time in my mind I felt as if it was my fault, as if I had a sign pointing to me saying "touch me". And with that in mind, I calmed myself down, told myself i wouldn't say anything, and walked back to the main cabin.

And when I walked in, it was tense. The boy was getting a talking to from his mother, and mine walked over to me.

She asked me if i was okay.

I said I was fine, confused. Thinking its not like he shoved me, punched me, hurt my physically. My mind did not corelate the emotional anguish rushing though my head as I felt even more shame that people knew. that they had told on themselves somehow.

I was not okay, i am still not okay. And it really sucks. I can't blame everything on one incident. But oh man can I corelate a lot of my problems with that incident.

Tight clothes made me feel like scum. Ive only ever worn sports bras that leave me with terrible chest pain. I still cant stand a tight fitting shirt, a v-neck. I can't stand my feminine traits. Because that's what got me into the mess in the first place.

Something so small can mess you up so much. And I'm sick of not acknowledging it. Everyone has forgotten or said nothing. And I feel like I'm going crazy.

So if you made it this far, your struggles are valid. Your feelings are valid. No matter what happend, everyone takes things differently.

And i don't know if I'll can call this sexual assault, but it feels like it was, and that's what should matter.

Everyone stay safe

[weepingwillow2000]

All text i found hidden in the new tommyinnit video (warning! Long post)

Reads: If you find a corner of this world wide web that has any substance at all, then please stick to it. The hundreds of millions of people that now place absolutely no value on their time, their precious time, and spend it watching soulless content assigned to hold their attention is depressing.

This all depressed me.

There is so little substance in this mess of a world wide web so little heart or soul or love.

If you find any substance, stick to it.

—————————————————————

(Can’t quite make this one out. Sorry)

Reads: They want you to be angry

so please stop being angry

———————————————————

Reads: A tribute to Minecraft. The Great Potato War. TheOriginalAce’s Q&A’s. Ludwig’s 2020 streams. SMPLive Talent Show.

This was everything to me

———————————————————

Reads: Status is irrational & nature is cynical. It’s attention porn. Don’t get addicted to it. It’s nothing. It means nothing. They are more insecure than you. But what the fuck do i know?

—————————————————————————————————

(this one's seems to be retracted a bit so i apologize for whatever mistakes i make)

Reads: When i was a boy, alone, this meant everything to me.

I found my people.

my place.

All along the way i was a part of something that really meant so (redacted)

that is the only good bit of this, whatever i did meant something.

That is the only good bit.

————————————————————————————

(This one's fucked up)

Reads: I can’t watch back my old videos. because everyone in them wasn’t who they said they were.

Do you know how this makes me feel. Do you know how sad i have felt all year.

————————————————————

(Edited this one to hopefully be easier to read)

Reads: How could anyone possibly find out who they are. All immersed in this needless, self indulgent spiral of instant gratification and distraction.

This is not good for you.

———————————————

Reads: the poor 12 year old watching this sad ass when he subscribed for funny Minecraft videos. Poor guy lmao.

I don’t think i trust anyone here. I don’t think anyone trusts anyone here.

——————————————————————

Reads: Yeah i know it’s too much like Bo Burnham. It won’t be in a year though. In a year it will be like Tom Simons. Just let me figure out what that means, ok?

————————————————————————

Reads: I used to feel like i was just doing everything wrong.

That i just wasn’t smart or good like any of my friends. I realize now i was the only one doing the right thing.

I just wanted to have fun.

What I’d do to get that back, my god.

What I’d do to have things be simple again.

———————————————————————

(This one makes me wonder)

Reads: I just don’t want to slip back into who i was. A year ago i needed you. A year ago most of my self esteem and worth and love came from you. A year ago i wasn’t happy unless you were. I don’t think i can ever do that again. That was really wrong.

How did i possibly end up there?

[nothots-headempty]

Falling Apart

Charles Xavier × reader

Summary: when you're feeling awfully low, who'll be there to hold you? Hold you together?

Word count: 1.1k

Warnings: seasonal depression, I think? That's abt it. Some evident mental instability

Authors note: wrote this because I couldn't get out of bed yesterday. Welcome to the child of my own bed-rotting, quite literally. Definitely not proof read 😔

I'll get to the requests now I think <3 woohooo

The door cracks open just a smidge, but the absolutely disgusted face you make is suggestive of some criminal destruction inflicted upon you.

It's been hours of this. Rotting in bed, sulking about absolutely nothing. That apprehensive haze lurking in the back of your mind like a minion with its fingers around your throat.

Erik checked in on you a while ago, Raven even asked you out for a walk around the neighbourhood.

If you looked so bad as to warrant an invitation to a stroll, you feared your condition was practically morbid.

It made no sense really - your life was great. In all practical senses, you were living the urban dream. You had great friends. An amazing boyfriend. Doing well at uni.

And yet one second you were alright, the next it seemed like the bed was as strong as a black hole, pulling you into the wonders of the concept of inactivity. Of letting things go and falling into an unending cycle of procrastination, food and malaise.

It almost seemed welcoming.

You groan, turning around with that same disgruntled frown on your mouth, your gaze meeting the face of the Professor himself. Right, time for some more advise and rebukes.

"Well, that's a great way to welcome me home.", he smiles, apparently oblivious to the state of your mind. He did love maintaining your privacy, especially mentally. But added on to your occasional lack of communication, there were moments you wished he didnt.

"Right, I'll be sure to throw you a parade at the end of tomorrow.", you roll your eyes. You know you're being unreasonable. What had he done in all of this? Nothing, at all.

And yet the words were out like you wanted him gone. Maybe in some twisted way, you did. Left alone to your own misery.

You shoot him one last glare, turning back with a huff to curl up on your side.

"Honey?" He sounds confused. You can feel the thoughts going through his head. Is it him? Did he do something wrong? What could he do? You curl up tighter.

Usually, you'd have jumped out of bed, put your arms around his neck, buried your face in his chest. Maybe, that would even have solved everything.

Not right now.

Your bones ached from the inside out, your eyes half shut from the tears you were holding back. If you looked at him right now, the paranoia would flow over into breakdown.

And we couldn't have that, could we? No.

You hear him shuffle closer. The shadow of his hand lands fleetingly over your shoulder, withdrawn just as soon as it appeared. It hurts to see him hold back around you. Especially, when you were the only one he reached out to without a second thought.

He's inches away now, his breath audible, a low hum that does something to you. Soothing.

Familiarity bleeds quite easily into comfort, you realise. His presence itself is a salve. Enough to disconnect the anxiety like a barrier from the world outside.

You want to feel his vest scratching against your cheek, the softness of his skin under your lips. Just that feeling of Charles. Of him just being.

You sigh. More tears are pricking at the edge of your eyes now and you scrunch the sheets tighter, trying and failing to stifle the sob that escapes your lips.

"Honey, no." His reaction is nearly instantaneous. Like that traitorous expression of your pain had freed him from his hesitance. He falls into the mattress, pulling you flush against his chest.

You think of protesting. Of putting up a front. Of sending him away like you did the others. But even the idea of him leaving now, of being in the cold bed without his embrace, the embrace you were literally wrapped in

It felt physically painful.

You let him get mold your posture to his body, his own breaths slowing to give you a benchmark to match up to. His hand comes up, desperate to make things right and yet the gesture is filled with uncertainty, fingers lingering on your arm as if he doesn't know if he is at all what you need right now.

You slip your fingers through his, pulling his hand to your chest. His relief is evident, his chin resting on your shoulder, a fleeting kiss left on your head.

"Want to talk about it?" And you know he means it when he asks. That he'd drop the topic immediately if you even sounded reluctant. And you loved him for it.

You pick his fingers out of yours, pressing two slender digits to your own head, a resigned smile on your lips as you wait for him to catch up.

You're immersed into that familiar feeling, of floating through something heavy, that buoyant peace that comes with his invasion into your mind. You're suddenly blank, neutral to your own thoughts, only an observer, and you allow yourself to relax. To let him take over.

You still dont want to face him though, allowing him to let the flurry, the deluge of mixed feelings run through his mind.

His grip on you tightens only seconds into it, his fingers leaving your forehead to find your cheek, asking you to turn to him. His eyes are wide, brows furrowing further as he watches your tear stained features contort into a feeble attempt at a smile.

"Love, you are one of the smartest people I know.", he starts, a stern edge to his voice. The comment catches you off-guard. Not because you hadn't heard it before. You had. A million times from his mouth, itself.

But because you only realise now how much you need his assurance. About everything, right now. How his decisive tone almost makes you believe the statement without doubt. Belief you hadn't felt seconds ago.

"But sometimes you can be so, so daft.", he laughs when you scrunch your nose. His forehead leaning against yours, he let's his hand run through your hair, waiting for you to sync your breaths with his, to lean into the silence that lingers.

"They're gonna love your dissertation. They'll be crazy if they don't." He seals the utterance in with a kiss to your forehead. You nod, brushing your nose against his as your fingers wrap into his vest.

"And then we'll have a Doctor in the house.", he looks thoughtful when he says it, like he adores the idea of it all.

You gift him with a small smile at that. "Not the kind of doctor we need, anyway.", you quip. You snuggle closer, letting him circle you in a bear hug. He smells nice, like lavender and warmth and something distinctly similar to home.

You can feel the drowsiness of the day catching up to you, sleep finally on the horizon after it had avoided you incessantly. Charles was all you had really needed.

"Love you.", you mumble, threading your fingers through his hair as you plant a kiss on his lips. He makes no attempt to deepen it, choosing instead to pepper your face with small pecks, stopping only when you burst into an involuntary fit of giggles.

His forehead rests against yours again, a sigh breathed into the space between you.

"Sorry, for being such a mess.", you go on, unable to stop the apologies from slipping out.

"A mess?", he inquires, finger tracing your lips, a light brush of skin on skin as it runs along your jaw to brush over your closed eyelids. "We're all allowed to let go sometimes, love."

He squeezes you tighter, your face hidden in his neck as the tears finally come loose, the dampness seeping through his vest. He doesn't pull away, doesn't make a show of it, his only acknowledgment lying in the way he runs his hand over your back, calming, protective.

"Just know I'll always hold you together when you fall apart.", he whispers next to your ear, the words spreading through you in a honey-like warmth.

"Hold you just like this"

[lotussness]

I managed to capture most of them, here are Tommy's hidden messages throughout his new song "the internet's getting worse" (it's actually so sad :(( )

Transcripts under cut*

"If you find a corner of this world wide web that has any sustenance at all, then please stick to it. The hundreds of people that now place absolutely no value on their time, their precious time, and spend it watching useless content designed to hold their attention is depressing. This all pressed me. Their is so little Sustenance in this mess. A world wide web so little heat or soul or love. If you find any sustenance, stick to it."

"A Tribute To Minecraft.

The Great Potato War.

The Original Ace's QnA's

Ludwig's 2020 streams

SMP Live Talent Shows

This was everything to me."

"Status is irrational and nature is cynical."

"It's addiction p*rn.

Don't get addicted to it.

It's nothing

It means nothing."

"They are more insecure than you. But (?)

"When i was a boy, alone, this meant everything to me. I found my people. My place. And along the way i was part of something that really meant something. This is the only good bit of this. Whatever i did that meant something, that is the only good bit."

"I can't watch back my old videos because everyone in them wasn't who they said they were. Do you know how sad this makes me feel. Do you know how sad I've been all year."

"How could anyone possibly find out who they are when you are all immersed in this needless, self indulgent spiral of instant gratification and distraction. This is not good for you."

 "the 12 year old boy watching this sad ass video when he subscribed for funny minecraft videos. Poor guy lmao."

"I don't think i trust anyone here. I don't think anyone trusts anyone here"

"I know it's too much like bo burnham but i won't be in a year. In a year it will be like Tom Simons. Just let me figure out what that means, OK?"

"I used to feel like i was doing everything wrong. That i just wasn't smarter or good like any pf my friends. I realised now i was the only one doing the right thing. I just wanted to have fun. What I'd do to go (?) back, my god. What I'd do to have things be simple again."

[camillomea]

Red bond 2:

here 2. episode

Tim was silently doing homework and listening to the voice behind him reading a book. He felt very safe with his back against Jason's back. He was quite short compared to him. But he was never afraid of him. On the contrary, he was one of the two people he trusted with his life. He knew that he would be safe and well with him. As Jason said, he had 0 instincts about protecting himself. That's why Jason was much more careful when taking care of him. Because Tim was very incompetent in taking care of himself. His gaze shifted to his arm in the sling fixed to his body, his body tensed up slightly. He would probably never be the same for the rest of his life. This was a very difficult and shocking thing for him to accept. He had been trying to get used to this for 9 months, but he could never get used to it. His gaze started to dull, his body started to tremble. His eyes were filled with tears. Before his mind could slip further into his headspace, Nora had meowed and landed on his lap and started rubbing against his hands. Then he felt her body separate Jason's back from his back. Tim whimpered silently with loss of sensation, but two muscular arms wrapped around him and sat him on his lap. Tim let out a quiet purr as his arms wrapped around him. He could hear Jason saying, “It’s okay, baby bird, it’s okay,” as he slid into his own headspace.

---

When Jason felt Tim’s body tense up while he was reading a book. His body went into high alert. He could feel Tim start to shake. Nora sensed the situation immediately and moved into his arms to comfort him. Jason quickly pulled his back away from hers and turned. The whimpering sound Tim made when he broke contact with her broke her heart. She pulled him into her arms immediately and hugged him. The purring sound Tim made in response to the hug comforted her. He kissed the top of her head, the dullness in her eyes was heartbreaking. “It’s okay, baby bird. It’s okay, you’re okay. You’re okay. I’ll take care of you, everything’s okay, you’re okay, you’re safe,” he whispered to her, slowly rocking his body back and forth. Tim’s body was shaking, not responding to anything. Jason did nothing but try to calm her down, to comfort her. He turned him towards him, his legs around his waist, and he sat her ear on his chest, Nora had moved back to his shoulders. He continued to rock and hug Tim until his shaking stopped. When he finally stopped shaking and felt her slowly stop, he let out a sigh of relief. “Thank God,” he said in a low voice. I could tell Tim was still wide-eyed and not himself. But at least he had calmed down, and that was better than nothing.

He reached for his phone, sighing. Tim definitely wasn’t going to the mansion like this. And Jason was never going to go without him. He would either set foot in that place with her or not at all. He dialed a number he knew by heart. The call was picked up in no time. “Hey Jay, have you made up your mind?” Bruce said, sounding hopeful.

Jason suppressed the urge to groan. “Well, B,” he said.

“Oh, so the answer is no,” Bruce said. The depression in his tone could be heard a mile away.

Jason groaned. “It’s not like that. Look Tim is having a bad day" he said.

Bruce said panicked "what! What happened? Is he okay".

Jason "he's not hurt. He's healthy. The thing had a small panic attack. It's over now. But after the attacks it doesn't respond to anything for a while and needs care. That's why we need to stay home" he explained patiently.

Bruce was silent for a while "so is he okay" he asked finally.

Jason said "physically yes his condition is not getting worse. He just needs rest and careful care".

Bruce said "can I come" his voice sounded worried.

Jason said "I'm sorry but not right now. I know you're trying to fix it. But Tim needs space right now. He panics more when there's someone else around in these situations" he said.

Bruce sighed "can you at least keep me informed" he asked.

Jason said "yeah sure why not".

Bruce sighed "thanks Jay. Don't forget to take care of yourself too okay? Do you have food?" he said.

Jason said "yes, there is, please take care of yourself."

Bruce said "I'll see you soon then, don't forget to take care of yourself." Then he hung up.

After Jason hung up the phone, he put it on the coffee table. He looked at Tim. Tim's eyes were half-closed, his gaze was blank. His body was relaxed, the right cheek of his face was pressed against Jason's chest. His heartbeat seemed to calm him down. He continued to shake Tim gently. Jason's one hand was stroking his back while the other held Tim's left hand. This was the easiest way to understand whether Tim had come to his senses. When he was more conscious, he would shake Jason's hand.

***

Bruce sighed and entered the kitchen. Alfred said "I think they answered."

Bruce said "They can't come. It's something to do with Timmy's health. Jason is taking care of him right now and they won't be available for a while. Tim needs space because of his condition. That's why they can't come."

Alfred's eyebrows furrowed. "What exactly is wrong with the young master?" he asked with concern.

"I don't know about that. Jason didn't say anything, he just said he wasn't getting any worse physically," Bruce said. Alfred looked on with concern.

[azaharinflames]

I fell into the deepest depression I’ve had for years when Buck and Tommy broke up. I just wanted to cry so badly but decades of trauma kept me from doing that. Add on that Trump had just been re-elected, and add in that my Dad had been admitted to hospital with a collapsed lung it just took me down.

I’ve mostly gotten over it. I spent 24 hours writing my idea of a fix it fic (won’t happen on show cause they all suck but it was cathartic). I can’t remember what caused my breakdown but I did end up crying. My eyes felt less puffy after as well.

I understand that it’s a fake relationship in a fake show but something about it spoke to me. And just watch it end hurt me worse. The last time I had actually cried hard was in 2021 when my mother-in-law passed away from COVID. So why did this stupid relationship affect me so much. I feel embarrassed for reacting this badly. I don’t even like to talk to my partner about it because he wouldn’t understand.

Hi, Nonnie! Thank you for your ask.

I am so, so sorry to read that. Listen - it's not stupid. It's not embarrassing So don't think your feelings surrounding it and your reaction to any of it is that, because I promise you: nothing about it should make you feel embarrassed.

Here is the thing: Art, in whatever form, is one of the things that move people the most, historically*. Art is a universal language that doesn't simply exist in a painting or a sculpture but in a myriad of different forms that, especially in the last few decades, have expanded immensely. Art can be a channel for our emotions, can be our choice of escapism, can be the thing we see ourselves reflected in and thus, the thing that we connect to because, hey - that's us. And if we see 'us' overcoming on screen, surely we can overcome in real life, right? That's one of the reasons why representation is so damn important.

Yeah, it was a relationship. But it shouldn't be reduced to just that. Instead of dismissing our feelings by making our issue seem nonsensical and small, let's think - my issue was because a piece of Art I connected to deeply was dealt with in a damaging way. And that carries consequences.

There is also the fact that, I think, for a lot of us, it was more than the break-up. The biggest thing to take into context was the election because it is just a matter of fact that we needed a win so bad that week, and we got the opposite of that. To get a bit more personal, I was already dealing with my town being hit with the worst natural disaster in my country this century, still had to hear from some of my friends to know if they were okay or even alive (fortunately, they're all fine), and I was seeing only tragedy whenever I went online. So this happening hit me really hard as well - but, like you, it was one of the things. Still, I spent three days barely able to take a bite and barely able to sleep, and a week with really high anxiety.

And sure, I did feel silly, but if I do love one thing, I sure do love introspection, I reached the aforementioned conclusion and reflection on Art (let me know if it helped or is a bunch of bs tho).

I think what you're doing, writing a fix-it fic, is amazing! You're channeling your feelings through Art, and I am sure it does feel very cathartic. I haven't written for 911 yet (definitely want to, I have some ideas that could work), but I have some years of writing for Marvel and Seblaine (Glee) on my back, so trust me when I say this is the better choice you could do - channel your feelings through your Art, and you will end up with something beautiful, I'm sure of it.

Sorry this was too long, but I'm here if you (or anyone else) needs to rant, vent, or discuss something (911 or whatever, something else is valid as well)

Take care, Nonnie <3 and all of you as well <3

*I have a bachelor's on this, please trust me on it lmao

[crtter]

Why, that’s my main man Louis XVI! We all know him. You know, married Marie Antoinette, helped with the American Revolution War, lost his head during the French Revolution… Louisville in Kentucky is named after him! I like this portrait. It has him wearing his coronation robes. Very snazzy. It wasn’t painted at the time of his coronation though. He was 19 when he ascended to the throne after his grandfather, Louis XV, died from smallpox. He got a different portrait of him painted then. This is a later piece, from the 1780s, if I’m not mistaken. I think he’s in his mid-thirties here.

Anyway, his non-king name was Louis Auguste, he was born in August 23, 1754 and he has never caught a single break in his life. I mean, don’t get me wrong, in the greater scheme of things the French Revolution was a net positive for the world. Like, my country could still be a colony to this day if Napoleon hadn’t ascended to the throne and scared the king of Portugal into going hiding in Brazil. But you can’t help but feel a little sorry for the guy. Nothing ever went his way!

To start off, he was never meant to be king at all and, in his heart, he’d probably would rather have been anything else. His father was the next in the line of succession, and after him, it would be his older brother, who his family like, HEAVILY favored over him and didn’t even try to hide it. This meant he didn’t get nearly as good of an education as his brother did, getting stuck with an elderly, very conservative tutor who mostly only taught him religion and morals. But his brother would die at only nine years old (Louis was six then) from a bone infection after a bad fall from being pushed a little too hard while roughhousing with his friends. Then his father would die as well, of tuberculosis, when he was eleven, and his mother would follow a bit over a year later, having fallen into a deep depression after her husband’s death. So most of his immediate family drops dead and Louis becomes heir to the throne. Turns out he couldn’t have done so in worst circumstances: he inherited a lot of debt from his predecessors, had to deal with the repercussions of an unusually harsh winter that destroyed crops all over France and he just didn’t have a single authoritarian bone in his body.

It’s not like he was unintelligent. Much to the contrary, actually: he taught himself how to speak Italian, Spanish and English (the latter, reportedly, because he loved ships and navigation and he wanted to read Captain James Cook’s memoirs and Robinson Crusoe in the language they were originally written), had his own personal library, mastered advanced calculus and was and passionate about cartography, clockmaking and locksmithing. He was far from a tyrant or out of touch with his people either. He liked to secretly visits poor families in person and give them money that had been reserved for his own personal expenses, often took decisions that were the opposite of what was advised to him because, in his own words, “it might not be what’s best for the country but it’s what the people want and I want people to like me”, and held progressive values for a man of his time, passing or at least attempting to pass laws prohibiting the persecution of religious minorities, abolishing torture, serfdom and the death penalty.

So, why did Louis XVI die in the way he did? There were a lot of factors, of course. One of them is just because he was a symbol of the monarchy that had been plunging the country into more and more debt for the past 100 years, but a key one was that he was just awfully indecisive. It was it hard for him to make important decisions as quickly as he should and easy for him to be persuaded by other people of what he should do, which made for some pretty inconsistent, often poor results. He also hated attracting attention to himself so he refused getting statues and paintings made to celebrate his accomplishments, which made the public largely unaware of the good things he did while VERY aware of his shortcomings, real and imagined, because political cartoon artists had a field day with him and his wife. His contemporaries also thought of him as kind of uncouth and not very bright due to the fact he was shy and awkward. He was a bad public speaker, prone to going into uncomfortable silences mid-conversation and had a hard time looking people in the eye, which gave him an uncharismatic reputation. But, most importantly, Louis just… didn’t fight back. He was chronically insecure. Eager for approval. He could’ve easily thwarted the initial revolts with his personal army but he felt like raising weapons against his own people was as unforgivable as doing so against his own children. So he made a point to forbid his men from attacking the revolutionaries and to try and talk it out with them and give in to their demands, eventually even letting himself and his family to be taken into house arrest to Paris.

More things happen after that, but the gist of it is, even though Louis was technically in decent terms with the revolutionaries and on board with being stripped of all his power and becoming a constitutional monarch, even writing to his brothers to demand that they do not try anything counterrevolutionary and that he didn’t need their help, he felt like a prisoner and that his children were being mistreated. So he and Marie Antoinette decided to take a leap of faith and flee Paris to cross the Austrian border. The thing is, Louis genuinely thought that the revolutionary efforts were concentrated in Paris and that people elsewhere still liked him and would support his decision to escape. He was VERY wrong about that. They were eventually recognized and apprehended because, well. Louis’ face was literally on the money and someone eventually went “Wait a minute… don’t I know this guy from somewhere?”. The people were shocked by his betrayal and secret plotting with foreigners to escape given that he had previously seemed so cooperative. So he and his family are put in an actual prison this time, and he’s eventually tried for high treason and crimes against the state. By then he knows he’s cooked and that he’s going to be killed but he seems oddly resigned to it. I guess he just gave up.

Later on when his lawyer and former minister goes to tell him, in tears, that he has indeed, been convicted to death he just thanks him for his hard work and tells him that “We’ll meet again in a happier life!” One of the last things he said at all, on the way to the scaffold, was asking if there have been any news of the La Pérouse expedition lately. which was this version of the Captain Cook expeditions of his he had organized a few years before it all went to shit. Funny little man, he was. He was scared of cats because he got a nasty scratch on the butt from his grandfather’s cat as a child, but he dutifully took care of this very cat until the day it died after his grandfather’s passing. He liked to stealthily make his way out of windows and climb on the roofs of the palace of Versailles at night to hunt for nocturnal animals. His favorite horses were named Escargot and Desiré.

I can do this trick with some other VERY random subjects too. Someone look up “French king”, get the first picture you see out of Google Images and show it to me on this post. Don’t give me a name. Just the picture or a link to the picture. I’m going to either awe you or creep you out. No middle ground.

[ahollowgrave]

My queue is nearly full again (almost 1k posts!) so I've up'd the post rate and I also might step back for a few days as well!

[dykedvonte]

I think it’s so ironic that the Pony Express escapes a lot if not all blame in discussion. I can’t even say I am excused from it but it’s just how hard people circle back to the characters alone without considering the environment they were made to be in.

Why would they design a ship where only two of the rooms lock? Not the bathroom? Not the sleeping quarters? We assume that all the companies in the universe are this shallow and careless to their workers but we explicitly know the Pony Express in extra vile. They are fed processed slop pack they can’t even really cook and the ration of those pack is meager at best. They hired and made people with a plethora of conflicting demeanors and beliefs work together on a mission where cohesion is important if not an outright necessity and punish them for not being happy about it. There’s no social protocols, not chain of command other than Captain’s word/choice and the only way to enforce that is with a literal firearm. They don’t allow them to celebrate freely and even took away leisure activities that would make them less stir crazy. They are only allowed a few hours of sleep despite their being no other real responsibilities or work on the ship, no matter the position or its importance. With any crew, with any level of synergy, this was a powder keg waiting for a spark.

I’m not saying characters that made mistakes didn’t make huge ones, but I think part of the horror is that at least for some (this is targeting Jimathan) those mistakes are partly made by a force of the hand. There’s a running theme of lack of choice and being forced into something and the very nature of how The Pony Express expected them to function plays a big part.

[1-renegade]

I HAVE FOLLOW-UP QUESTIONS, COMMENTS, AND ROASTS:

On Time:

at what age did he master the hair routine

who told him that he has to wash his legs (I ALREADY KNOW THAT HE WASN'T): malon, warriors, or a secret third option (NABORU?)

does he moisturize (face + body)

On Twilight:

nothing to add. this tracks. his towel habits are making me wanna take a dirt-nap but that TRACKS.

DOES HE MOISTURIZE

washes his legs. farmer boy has swamp ass for SURE he's clearing the whole AREA in that night shower

On Wild:

spontaneous showers are chaotic neutral and that tracks. i hope he has a really cute shower cap and that time gifted him with a really lovely silk pillowcase (that warriors picked out)

more likely to wash his legs if it isn't an Everything Shower

On Champion:

fastidious and utilitarian? he washes his legs, an all or nothing kind of guy. i have nothing to add. i'm afraid he'll manifest in my walls and kill me dead. that'd be kinda hot though.

On Warriors:

nothing to add. this is biblically accurate. warriors told me himself in a dream.

however

DOES HE HAVE A CURLY HAIR ROUTINE OR NOT?

HOW PISSED WAS HE WHEN HE FOUND OUT THAT TIME DIDN'T USE CONDITIONER AND/OR DIDN'T WASH HIS LEGS.

On Sky:

getting in the shower before the water warms up is straight up psychopath behaviour and only a person capable of killing god herself would engage in that kind of treachery

who's his favourite person to hang out with while he showers?

On Legend:

tracks. my poor depressed boy. my poor, stinky, depressed boy. i'll die on the hill that outside of depressin he's one of those "actually showering everyday is bad for your skin--" types.

does not wash his legs. i am not taking concrit at this time. "why would i wash my legs when the soapy water just runs down them?"

uses a natural deodorant but probably shouldn't because legend is a boy that NEEDS ALUMINUM

On Hyrule:

he's a med student, that's his get out of jail free card

the dedication to the curly hair routine tells me EVERYTHING i need to know about him and all of it is correct.

On Four:

other than warriors, four is the only bitch i trust. except the towel. whatever. i'll live.

DOES HE WASH HIS LEGS???????????????????????

On Wind:

i'm going to kill you

you want me dead

i already knew this was going to be the case but i'm still being bullied

i know he doesn't wash his legs. dont tell me he washes his legs. you're LYING I KNOW HE DOESN'T

has he grown out of the "no i dont wash my ass that's gay" cis-guy phase yet and is that phase the reason why twilight's still in the closet yes or yes

SETTING: HSH/LMTCOY VERSE.

CIRCUMSTANCES: NOT IN CRISIS/BASELINE.

QUESTION: WHAT ARE THEIR PERSONAL HYGIENE PRACTICES? AND WHICH PAIR OF LINKS HAVE THE MOST INCONGRUENT STANDARDS.

Have you truly prepared yourself for these answers, friend?

The general rule is that each of the boys has the sense to shower after a good workout or getting gross in some other way, no matter what their daily hygiene routine is otherwise. Under the cut because I had a TON to say about this apparently. I never even knew.

Time - He's a morning shower guy. He needs it to wake up and, since he likes to run or work out in the mornings, it makes for efficient timing. Plus let's be real, he's not getting the volume in those bangs unless he applies it in the morning, every morning. He prefers to be clean-shaven, making that therefore a daily duty. He used to use a combination shampoo and conditioner before Warriors got to him, and even if his hair is softer now he sure as hell isn't going to admit that to anyone. If he has a particularly eventful day at work, he'll have an evening shower as soon as he gets home, too--very hot and very, very thorough, followed by an aspirin nightcap.

Twilight - He's such a night-showerer. I attribute it to being raised on a farm. He gets up, he gets shit done, in fact he's getting shit done the whole day long so that by the time he's through Twi is ready for a hearty meal, some time to shoot the shit with his friends, and a hot shower before bed. He's not too fussed about making sure his stubble is shaved down every day, although for an event or something he's sure to be clean-shaven. Doesn't believe in conditioner. Twi's toxic trait is using the same towel for a week or more.

Wild - Showers occur daily, although at random times of the day. Maybe it's right after breakfast. Maybe he has to prep something for dinner, so he hops in sometime in the afternoon. Shaving occurs when he feels like it, although his facial fuzz is pretty sparse so it never matters much. His real barrier to entry is the length of his hair and the time it takes to dry it. Thus, hair washing is a once- to twice-weekly event at most. You know he uses Mane n' Tail shampoo, and he swears by conditioner, mainly because it helps him comb through all the tangles. He doesn't dry his hair, just plops it on top of his head in a towel or braids it damp to keep it out of his way. You always know it was a wash day because there's a six to eight-inch ring of dampness outside of the shower curtain. Hope none of the other boys were keeping a dry towel in there for any reason.

Champion - Showers after every work-out, so at least once but often twice a day, morning and afternoon. His showers are thorough but short: quick shave once a day every day, shampoo, soap up, rinse all at once. He's in an out of the shower in six minutes flat. He washes his hair EVERY time and towels it dry (RIP those split ends). Fastidious but utilitarian, Champion isn't one for conditioner or aftershave. He also didn't start using antiperspirant until he was in the Guard and saw that everyone else used it.

Warriors - There are two types of showers for this man. The first is the daily affair, usually taken as soon as he wakes up. He starts by warming the water while brushing his teeth (recharging electric toothbrush only) and inspecting his brows, then washing his face with a gentle cleanser containing salicylic acid (the only boy on the list so far who does), followed by a thorough shampoo and conditioning (this is the longest part of the routine). While the conditioner sets he takes a moment to inspect his nails and attend to any cuticle mishaps, then there's a rich lathering of shaving foam applied to his face, his underarms, maybe his legs if he needs it that day. (Before you ask: the hardwood floors get addressed by a trusted professional, licensed and bonded). He has a natural sponge for washing and exfoliation. Once all that's done, he has specific microfiber twist-towels for his hair (I hc he has natural waves or loose curls) and his towels are white and washed in unscented detergent. The rest of his routine has to be attended to in his room; he's already been in the bathroom well over the prescribed 20 minutes per shower, according to Legend. His other type of shower is the Spa Night affair, and that's more of a bath situation.

Sky - Ohhh Sky darling. I love him so, and his hygiene practices are adequate, but somewhat questionable in my book. He's a morning showerer, definitely needs that wake-up rinse, and the bathroom is his stop immediately after chugging orange juice at the fridge each morning. (Yes, right out of the carton. Yes, his name's on it.) He's an electric razor guy because it's quick. He always gets in the shower before the water is warm enough because he's impatient in the mornings, and he subsequently gets burned when it gets too hot and has to stand outside the spray doing that quick-reach-for-the-handles-and-shrink-back thing until it's cool enough to resume. My biggest hangup is that he uses a combination shampoo-conditioner-body wash product. Because it's quick. His hair is fluffy because it's probably dry as shit. The other thing about Sky is that he never EVER remembers to lock the bathroom door, so whenever he's in the shower it's a free-for-all if anyone else wants to come in and brush their teeth or whatever.

Legend - In the beginning, when he was living with Hyrule in that first apartment, Legend wasn't a daily showerer. He was pretty fucking depressed, so it ended up being every third or fourth day, at least until he came around to realizing "Hey, this kills some time." He's another random-time-of-day showerer, and sometimes it's an overnight affair if he's out working late with Ravio (like, 2-4am). He'll use cheap drugstore shampoo and body wash, and on occasion will shamelessly use some of War's expensive bullshit conditioner for a special occasion. One of the few boys to use a hair dryer regularly. His toxic trait is putting his hat back on before his hair is completely dry, making the hair at the top of his head kind of stringy and limp most times.

Hyrule - Listen. Med school makes you a very versatile showerer. Hyrule has literally no preference for taking a morning or an evening shower anymore. Whenever he's awake enough and has enough time to spare is when he does it. He functions best with nighttime showers because it gives him ample time in the mornings to have his coffee and a slow wake-up. Rulie's hair is naturally curly, so his haircare routine is different from most. He actually doesn't use shampoo at all. He conditions every day, sometimes two rounds if he makes his little scalp scrub with brown sugar. He does a quick blind shower-shave and prefers a loofah. His toxic trait used to be towel-drying his hair until Warriors made him swear to never do it again. Now he wisely lets it air dry.

Four - Mister Nevernude showers before dinner since his work can get him fairly messy. At the very least, soldering leaves an awful smell in your hair. He's another user of cheap drugstore shampoo, he's not fond of conditioner, and is a bar-of-soap kind of guy. He used to take lightning-fast showers in the beginning until he really settled in to the house, and now he's in there for a more reasonable 10 minutes or so. He goes in fully clothed, he comes out fully clothed. Like Twilight, he unfortunately uses the same towel all week. He only has one, really, and just throws it in the laundry together with the rest of his clothing.

Wind - He is, unfortunately, not a daily showerer. He might go every other or even every third day, depending. That's only if he's shut in his room for a day or three, though. There's enough Axe body spray to make up for those days, at least in his mind. If he's going out, he has the sense to wash. He prefers coconut-scented products, uses a combination shampoo/conditioner product, and rarely remembers to replenish his body wash at the store so commonly chooses from some of his roommate's. He doesn't shave religiously but his facial fuzz is still fine and blonde, so it's not the worst.

[widowshill]

— But it's almost midnight. — Oh, that's the point! At the stroke of twelve, he turns into Dracula. C'mon, Vicki – he won't bite.

pose ref.