Chapter Text
Tubbo didn't have an eating disorder.
Sure, sometimes he went without eating for twenty-something hours.
But it wasn't in a "disordered way", it was in a "I already skipped breakfast, I wonder if I can just make it 24 hours" kind of way.
These personal challenges were... Well, fun was a bit strong of a word. But it gave him something to do. (not to mention the sense of accomplishment he got as he counted the hours on his fingers and hit double digits.) It just felt nice, like he was achieving something good by it.
Even the hunger pangs were accomplishments of their own. He did drown them out with cups of bitter coffee every now and then when they bordered on painful, but otherwise, they were a sign that he was doing something right.
But he didn't have an eating disorder, the notion was almost laughable.
He didn't stick his fingers down his throat (he had only tried that one time, purely out of curiosity) or weigh himself every day (it was only every couple days) nor did he see his body differently than it was (he was quite sure what he saw was what he really looked like, for better or for worse.)
He wasn't doing this for weight loss, even. (the numbers receding on the scale were just a bonus.)
So, even as he lied in bed and distracted himself by blaring upbeat music in his headphones as his empty stomach cramped, he didn't feel sick.
He was still in control, after all. This was just for fun, out of boredom, to help him feel good.
Speaking of, the digits on his phone screen read 6:43 pm. If he recalled correctly, he hasn't eaten since a late dinner yesterday night- which meant he had almost been a full day.
So in just a few hours, he could
would eat again.
And as he sat on the kitchen floor at 12 am, gulping down a yogurt cup, he tried to ignore the heavy, guilty feeling in his stomach.
He hasn't eaten for what, 26 hours?
That was good.
It was all about personal records, anyways. He didn't care about calories or numbers, he was just bored-
So when he fished the yogurt container out of the recycling to read the calories on the side, it was just curiosity.
And when he'd retreated back into his bedroom, he found himself drawn to his empty journal. There was no harm in writing that down, right? There wasn't anything wrong with being aware of your calorie intake, he was sure plenty of people tracked it.
He hesitated as he scribbled down the number, briefly wondering what he was doing.
Now you look like you have an eating disorder or something, lol.
Shut up.
He finished writing the number, complete with a date, and slammed his journal shut, flopping back onto his bed and reaching for his phone. He opened Discord and smiled as he typed a text back to his friend's messages.
He went to sleep early, something about feeling extra tired.
The next day was the same as usual- except for the fact that he was streaming from morning till noon. Honestly, it kept him occupied enough that food wasn't even on his mind, until after he'd finally ended the stream.
His phone buzzed with a Discord Notification, Ranboo's icon popping up.
Tubbo, you've been streaming for like 8 hours man, make sure you get something to eat and drink!
Tubbo smiled exasperatedly to himself, already typing out a response.
I know, I was just about to eat actaully. ^^
It wasn't quite the truth (according to his clock, he wouldn't be eating for 5 more hours now) but if he said otherwise, Ranboo would think he had an eating disorder or something.
(Maybe he was just being paranoid. What for? It wasn't like he was doing anything wrong.)
And so later when Ranboo asked what he'd eaten, he made up something with ease.
" Oh, I actually had some toast with jam just now. I'll make something in a little bit too, I've been wanting to try out…"
They drifted off into easy conversation, although Tubbo did feel a little guilty about lying to his friend. He just didn't want Ranboo to get the wrong idea, and get all concerned like he does.
There was no reason to be concerned, really.
Well, Tubbo would be lying if he said he didn't feel a little accomplished when the little numbers on the scale showed that he'd lost a couple pounds in the past few weeks.
So accomplished, in fact, that he figured it wouldn't hurt to intricate that into his "fasting" plans, just a bit.
Maybe if he lost just a couple more pounds, even out the number, he would feel a little less insecure when he looked in the mirror.
It wasn't a huge problem, just that…
He had always been a little self-concious of his body, more so in the past month or so. He did find himself looking in the mirror more often, touching his hips and stomach and feeling a little off about it. He preferred to keep it to himself ( otherwise would be so embarrassing-) but maybe if he kept this up, he'd look just a little…
Better.
That's all.
It was like a diet of sorts.