Post by newwwwusername on May 19, 2023 17:54:30 GMT
Full title : You Turn Oranges to Orange Juice (Into There, Then Spit it Out of You)
Title from : Orange Juice by Melanie Martinez
Prompt : Write a fic in which a character has Bulimia (canon or not canon)
Chronology : Post-canon AU where they all survive
Headcanons : Bulimic!Mischa, Orthorexic!Mischa
Now, Mischa had never been necessarily out of shape but, upon arriving in Canada and quickly realizing the social issues he was sure to face because of his immigration status, he became determined to arm himself. Not through weaponry, no, he had no interest in carrying a knife or a firearm. Rather, he figured that the best way to go about this in a way that wouldn't get him in trouble was to become as physically strong as possible.
Or, at least, that's how it started.
See, it started perfectly fine. He changed up his diet a bit to cut down on carbs and bulk up on protein and began going to the gym for an hour every day after school. And it was working. Pretty quickly, he saw this habit begin to pay off as his abs and biceps became more toned, and, with this change, people poked fun at him less and less.
Soon enough, though, he started looking at the other men who'd be in the gym with him, at first with mere curiosity but soon with envy. Suddenly, his progress wasn't as impressive in his mind. In fact, there were still parts of his body that he found awkward (either too skinny or too fatty), and therefore still needed to be fixed.
His "good diet" became increasingly restrictive. One hour of gym time turned to two, which turned to three, which turned to five on his worst days. He began calculating his calories and macros excessively, heavily scrutinizing every calorie that came from anything that wasn't protein-packed and completely free of carbs.
The most insidious part of his worsening state is that he didn't realize it was an issue. In his mind, all of this was a good thing. Not only was it a good thing, but it was a show of true strength, being able to keep up with the extreme diet and excessive exercise. The results showed on his body, too, and he was once again becoming content with how he was built, but that nagging voice in the back of his head kept him going.
One day, however, he broke.
Among the many issues that come from these overly restrictive diets is the simple fact that they aren't sustainable. If you're constantly restricting what you eat to such an extreme degree, you're going to get really hungry really quickly, and eventually, Mischa found himself sitting on the floor of the damp basement his adoptive parents shoved him into, eating the majority of the food he kept in the mini-fridge he had down there.
He did this in an almost trance-like state as he was completely overcome with hunger, so he didn't even fully realize what he was doing until it was pretty much done. Needless to say, he felt horrified, embarrassed, and, more than anything, deeply ashamed. Without missing a beat, he ran to the bathroom to try and purge away what he had done, desperate to get as many sugary and unhealthy calories out of him as possible.
After this first time, these binging sessions came more often, sometimes even once a week during his particularly bad months, and they always ended with a horrified realization and a deeply unpleasant trip to the bathroom. But no one knew. He was so ashamed of the binging that he made a concerted effort to make sure none of his friends found out. This was working, too.
Until Noel showed up for an unexpected visit as he was in the midst of purging.
"Oh, shit" the Ukrainian heard the familiarly flamboyant voice of his boyfriend come from behind him and visibly flinched in alarm, growing only more tense when the tenor pulled his fingers from his throat. "Stop, please, it's okay"
"Not okay" Mischa objected in a rare moment of vulnerability, tears leaking from his eyes because Karnak, this was embarrassing and difficult and completely put to waste all the effort he'd made to hide this from everyone. "Is not okay" he repeated, though he made no effort to fight against Noel's restraints. "I need to be strong. This... Is not strong"
"You don't need to be anything" Noel dismissed. "And you are strong... Mischa, what happened?"
"Ate a lot" Mischa replied, gesturing to countless opened and emptied containers that littered the floor beyond the open door to the small water closet that he had in the basement (something which he found rather convenient since he wouldn't have to risk his adoptive parents hearing him purge). "Making up for it"
"Misch, you don't have to make up for eating a lot" Noel insisted. Mischa didn't seem too convinced. "I didn't comment on it 'cause I didn't realize it was this bad, but your diet is, like, very extreme" he continued. "It makes sense that you'd be hungry and eventually break, for lack of a better term"
"That's not..." Mischa trailed off, too tired and miserable to formulate a defense. Noel just held him tighter.
"I'm sorry you've been going through all this alone, love"
"Not your fault"
"Still" Noel sighed. "Please, just..." he took a deep breath as he thought of what he could say at this point. "I won't tell the others so don't worry about that, but please tell me next time it gets this bad" he pleaded. "I love you and I'm here for you, even if you're going through a rough patch right now"
"Thanks..."
"Now" Noel clapped and stood up, reaching out his hand for Mischa to join him, which he shakily did. "You go lie down. I'm gonna clean all this up" he gestured towards the containers. "And then we're gonna watch a movie"
"Okay..."
Title from : Orange Juice by Melanie Martinez
Prompt : Write a fic in which a character has Bulimia (canon or not canon)
Chronology : Post-canon AU where they all survive
Headcanons : Bulimic!Mischa, Orthorexic!Mischa
Now, Mischa had never been necessarily out of shape but, upon arriving in Canada and quickly realizing the social issues he was sure to face because of his immigration status, he became determined to arm himself. Not through weaponry, no, he had no interest in carrying a knife or a firearm. Rather, he figured that the best way to go about this in a way that wouldn't get him in trouble was to become as physically strong as possible.
Or, at least, that's how it started.
See, it started perfectly fine. He changed up his diet a bit to cut down on carbs and bulk up on protein and began going to the gym for an hour every day after school. And it was working. Pretty quickly, he saw this habit begin to pay off as his abs and biceps became more toned, and, with this change, people poked fun at him less and less.
Soon enough, though, he started looking at the other men who'd be in the gym with him, at first with mere curiosity but soon with envy. Suddenly, his progress wasn't as impressive in his mind. In fact, there were still parts of his body that he found awkward (either too skinny or too fatty), and therefore still needed to be fixed.
His "good diet" became increasingly restrictive. One hour of gym time turned to two, which turned to three, which turned to five on his worst days. He began calculating his calories and macros excessively, heavily scrutinizing every calorie that came from anything that wasn't protein-packed and completely free of carbs.
The most insidious part of his worsening state is that he didn't realize it was an issue. In his mind, all of this was a good thing. Not only was it a good thing, but it was a show of true strength, being able to keep up with the extreme diet and excessive exercise. The results showed on his body, too, and he was once again becoming content with how he was built, but that nagging voice in the back of his head kept him going.
One day, however, he broke.
Among the many issues that come from these overly restrictive diets is the simple fact that they aren't sustainable. If you're constantly restricting what you eat to such an extreme degree, you're going to get really hungry really quickly, and eventually, Mischa found himself sitting on the floor of the damp basement his adoptive parents shoved him into, eating the majority of the food he kept in the mini-fridge he had down there.
He did this in an almost trance-like state as he was completely overcome with hunger, so he didn't even fully realize what he was doing until it was pretty much done. Needless to say, he felt horrified, embarrassed, and, more than anything, deeply ashamed. Without missing a beat, he ran to the bathroom to try and purge away what he had done, desperate to get as many sugary and unhealthy calories out of him as possible.
After this first time, these binging sessions came more often, sometimes even once a week during his particularly bad months, and they always ended with a horrified realization and a deeply unpleasant trip to the bathroom. But no one knew. He was so ashamed of the binging that he made a concerted effort to make sure none of his friends found out. This was working, too.
Until Noel showed up for an unexpected visit as he was in the midst of purging.
"Oh, shit" the Ukrainian heard the familiarly flamboyant voice of his boyfriend come from behind him and visibly flinched in alarm, growing only more tense when the tenor pulled his fingers from his throat. "Stop, please, it's okay"
"Not okay" Mischa objected in a rare moment of vulnerability, tears leaking from his eyes because Karnak, this was embarrassing and difficult and completely put to waste all the effort he'd made to hide this from everyone. "Is not okay" he repeated, though he made no effort to fight against Noel's restraints. "I need to be strong. This... Is not strong"
"You don't need to be anything" Noel dismissed. "And you are strong... Mischa, what happened?"
"Ate a lot" Mischa replied, gesturing to countless opened and emptied containers that littered the floor beyond the open door to the small water closet that he had in the basement (something which he found rather convenient since he wouldn't have to risk his adoptive parents hearing him purge). "Making up for it"
"Misch, you don't have to make up for eating a lot" Noel insisted. Mischa didn't seem too convinced. "I didn't comment on it 'cause I didn't realize it was this bad, but your diet is, like, very extreme" he continued. "It makes sense that you'd be hungry and eventually break, for lack of a better term"
"That's not..." Mischa trailed off, too tired and miserable to formulate a defense. Noel just held him tighter.
"I'm sorry you've been going through all this alone, love"
"Not your fault"
"Still" Noel sighed. "Please, just..." he took a deep breath as he thought of what he could say at this point. "I won't tell the others so don't worry about that, but please tell me next time it gets this bad" he pleaded. "I love you and I'm here for you, even if you're going through a rough patch right now"
"Thanks..."
"Now" Noel clapped and stood up, reaching out his hand for Mischa to join him, which he shakily did. "You go lie down. I'm gonna clean all this up" he gestured towards the containers. "And then we're gonna watch a movie"
"Okay..."