Work Text:
Fan quickly tapped away at his laptops keyboard, he was done doomscrolling on tumblr for hours at a time with little to no breaks, so he felt that he should instead write on his tumblr blog, something way more productive than just sitting there in his and paintbrush’s shared room. He fidgeted around with his bright red hair, scrunching it up a bit as he scratched away at his scalp. Writers block was an issue he dealt with quite a lot, but it was expected of him to be posting blogs for all the inanimate insanity viewers to enjoy, so he forced himself through it. He scrolled through the long list of asks that he had gotten throughout his time on the show, quite a few being more then a year old, but he soon found a newer one, which really got him thinking about his future.
‘’ You do those vlogs, right? Maybe you could make a habit out of making a routine that involves recording yourself (and others in the hotel, with their consent) going around and trying new things? That could be fun, and it’d give you something to occupy your time! ‘’
He for a moment couldn’t get his eyes away from the computer screen, is this what he needed? Was the universe finally sending him a goal to do? He had been bedrotting recently, but not to a healthy degree in the slightest. Due to his ellimination from inanimate insanity, he hadn’t been taking it well at all, spending multiple days not even leaving the second floor of the hotel, only occasionally leaving to go to the bathroom and to change. Paintbrush had been bringing him food and drinks, they noticed quite quickly his mental state had deterioated, they had tried persuading him to have gamenight with the others, or to even just sweetly persuade him to take care of himself, his hygiene worsening due to the pure exhaustion he felt each and every day.
As it finally registered to him how bad it was getting, he moved his computer off his lap for a moment, turning vertically to face towards the rest of his shared room. He starred at the ground which was littered with various wrappers and water bottles, his smaller trashcan overflowing beside his bed. Along with a few pairs of clothes which scattered his side of the room, making him uncomfortably aware that he hadn’t changed his clothes for a few days.
His brain felt like it had been stuffed with cotton, like the stuffed animals that surrounded him, he felt disconnected from reality. His body felt heavy as he closed his laptop, putting it on his desk beside him almost subconsciously, as much as he was physically there in the moment, his own thoughts were not registering. Without the light of his laptop, the room felt oddly dark, with no window and only the dim light from the small lamp on the sturdy wooden desk.