Kasumi
ヽ(・∀・)ﾉ Bratty Pup!
- Local Time
- 12:15 AM
- Joined
- Dec 11, 2023
- Messages
- 2,142
- Age
- 33
Please visit my request thread for general information on my profile and rules :3 Below is the plot followed by the intro post. Please message me if you'd like to rp this!
Psychiatrist x Patient (I would like to play the role of the patient)
Setting: Modern, psych ward
Looking for: seme/top
trigger warning: eating disorder, depression, abuse
I had an old favorite mxm plot from some years ago that I want to do again. I had it where MC faked an eating disorder, but this time I actually want him to have it. MC is mistreated at home, and the pressure to be the best and such causes him to skip meals and eventually develop an eating disorder, anorexia. His father simply tosses him into a psych ward where YC cares for him. MC likes the attention his doctor gives him (whether it's kind or harsh and cruel; my boy is a masochist after all, and will adore it nonetheless), and he becomes attached and attracted to YC. Hit me up to discuss more! It will be at the beginning of his illness, so he's not extremely skinny, but pretty thin.
That was what the young male decided on, though it was never intentional. Despite the abuse, Lee still craved his father's attention. He missed the kind and fun man he used to look up to. Lee just had no idea his father was mentally ill. John's delusions after his wife's death finally came out, and he aimed his anger and hatred toward his youngest son, Lee. After all, he was the one who knew his wife was ill. Alex, on the other hand, was pleasant, a good student, so well behaved...
Lee was envious of Alex. He hated him, the damned golden child. No matter how hard Lee worked on his studies, his father never told him how proud he was of him - not like Alex. So, Lee worked harder and harder. He requested more work from his teachers, anything to give him better grades, even when the sudden move from London to the States made everything so much harder. He ended up sleeping less, staying up late at night working on papers, and even skipping meals. He had gotten a few part-time jobs, thinking perhaps his father thought he wasn’t doing enough with his time. He did everything from babysitting or housesitting if neighbors would be away, to something more steady as a barista at a cute little cafe in the city.
As much as he loved to draw, art wasn't something his father wanted him to do. It depressed him to come home one day after work to find his art torn up, the pieces scattered across his bed and floor. It was one of the many times his father hit him when Lee raised his voice upon finding him downstairs, apparently waiting for him. The bastard shoved him hard into the kitchen counter, leaving a rather nasty bruise on his side.
One thing his father taught him was never to express himself, at least not in front of him. It was very clear to Lee then that his father wasn’t fond of his hobby, as if it hadn’t been before, from many snide comments. Running off to party, drink, and abuse drugs with his friends was becoming less and less effective at helping to numb himself from everything.
Lee ate less and less until he passed out at work. He was cleaning some dishes in the kitchen one second, and the next, everything shattered around him, and he was out cold. The next thing he knew, he was at the hospital, his father glaring at him. He had some minor cuts from the glass, which were easily fixed with bandages. His weight, however, was a concern. He denied it, telling the doctor he was fine. He must have just slipped on something and fallen. Maybe he hit his head, which caused him to pass out. The doctor bought it, at least in front of him. Outside the room, the doctor told his father to take him to talk to someone. "A shrink?" Perhaps. Whatever he thought was best for his son.
Whatever he thought was best for him. After a night of research and a day of phone calls, John knew exactly what that was.
Whatever his father thought was best for him was putting his own son in a fucking mental hospital.
On admitting day, Lee was oblivious. John kept him busy for a while before taking him out to lunch. In his room, Lee was sucked further into the wormhole that was his eating disorder. He uploaded pictures of his thin body on Instagram, his watchers supporting him. It was the only support he received. When he wasn't doing body checks, he read and posted on a familiar website, a pro-ana forum. He learned tips and tricks, how to hide his illness, and the like. Currently, Lee weighed an even one hundred pounds, something he proudly listed under his signature and around the board. Standing at five feet six inches, that wasn't healthy.
When his father was ready to go, they got into the car and left. Lunch was cruel; the bastard apparently knew he wasn't going to eat. That damn hospital doctor must have told him something. Lee watched as John ate a hamburger, the hunger starting to get to him, yet he refused to touch the salad his father ordered him. He sat there, arms crossed over his chest, refusing to look at him or even touch the food. "It's just lettuce, Lee. It's not going to kill you."
'Fuck you, dad.'
He rolled his eyes as his father laughed, the creep offering to buy him dessert before they left.
'You're getting some sick pleasure out of this, aren't you?'
His lack of a reaction finally had his father quiet. He got the check, paid, and they both got into the car. Lee had no idea why they were out, why his father had taken him to a diner. Where were they going? ...It wasn't home. Lee watched the signs pass them by, the unfamiliar area making him nervous. His chest and throat felt tight as a large building came into view, the sight of it causing him to panic. Naturally, Lee refused to get out of the car.
His father wasn't having it and practically dragged him out of the car and into the building. He got the attention of a nurse, claiming his son was a threat to himself and others. After all, he was starving himself! Lee caught what he said and, once more, began to panic. "What the hell are you going on about?" No, man, fuck this! He wouldn't let them take him away! He was tense, ready to riot. Yet, if he fought back, he would apparently only be proving his father's claims to be true. Lee was trapped in a mental battle, not hearing any of the nurses speak to him if they were.
A woman was, and let him be. She returned to speak to his father, informing him of what would most likely take place, and gave him forms to sign to get him admitted.
Lee was so focused, lost in his own mind, that he didn't even notice his father getting his suitcase out of the car trunk and bringing it back inside. It, along with Lee, was taken to one of the wings where his new, temporary home would be. He silently followed, his gaze keeping to the floor. He was simply stunned. His father wanted to get rid of him that badly to make false claims? Inside the room, Lee kept quiet as he sat on the bed, his vitals taken. He absentmindedly played with the plastic ID band on his wrist. He finally looked up when the nurse disappeared. Huh. A room all to his own. Another nurse popped up, checking to see if he was okay, with a change of clothes for him to put on. He wasn't paying attention as the woman spoke before she, too, left. Something about there being a schedule the patients were to follow. His brain was too clouded to think.
After about twenty minutes, a nurse came to retrieve him. Psychiatrist? Therapy? What, seriously? Well, after his father's claims... Sighing, he stood to his feet and followed the woman. He sat down on one of the chairs in the little waiting area. He was told it would only be a few minutes longer as the doctor was with another patient, which usually meant the opposite. He could be there for a while. His fingers itched, wanting his cell phone, which had long been taken away. He wanted to post about his forced admittance to the hospital on the forum, to get any sort of support from strangers he thought were his friends. The only support he ever received. He sighed, warily glancing toward the psychiatrist’s door, waiting.
Psychiatrist x Patient (I would like to play the role of the patient)
Setting: Modern, psych ward
Looking for: seme/top
trigger warning: eating disorder, depression, abuse
I had an old favorite mxm plot from some years ago that I want to do again. I had it where MC faked an eating disorder, but this time I actually want him to have it. MC is mistreated at home, and the pressure to be the best and such causes him to skip meals and eventually develop an eating disorder, anorexia. His father simply tosses him into a psych ward where YC cares for him. MC likes the attention his doctor gives him (whether it's kind or harsh and cruel; my boy is a masochist after all, and will adore it nonetheless), and he becomes attached and attracted to YC. Hit me up to discuss more! It will be at the beginning of his illness, so he's not extremely skinny, but pretty thin.
Q. What's the best way to get your abusive and neglectful father's attention?
A. Anorexia!
A. Anorexia!
That was what the young male decided on, though it was never intentional. Despite the abuse, Lee still craved his father's attention. He missed the kind and fun man he used to look up to. Lee just had no idea his father was mentally ill. John's delusions after his wife's death finally came out, and he aimed his anger and hatred toward his youngest son, Lee. After all, he was the one who knew his wife was ill. Alex, on the other hand, was pleasant, a good student, so well behaved...
Lee was envious of Alex. He hated him, the damned golden child. No matter how hard Lee worked on his studies, his father never told him how proud he was of him - not like Alex. So, Lee worked harder and harder. He requested more work from his teachers, anything to give him better grades, even when the sudden move from London to the States made everything so much harder. He ended up sleeping less, staying up late at night working on papers, and even skipping meals. He had gotten a few part-time jobs, thinking perhaps his father thought he wasn’t doing enough with his time. He did everything from babysitting or housesitting if neighbors would be away, to something more steady as a barista at a cute little cafe in the city.
As much as he loved to draw, art wasn't something his father wanted him to do. It depressed him to come home one day after work to find his art torn up, the pieces scattered across his bed and floor. It was one of the many times his father hit him when Lee raised his voice upon finding him downstairs, apparently waiting for him. The bastard shoved him hard into the kitchen counter, leaving a rather nasty bruise on his side.
One thing his father taught him was never to express himself, at least not in front of him. It was very clear to Lee then that his father wasn’t fond of his hobby, as if it hadn’t been before, from many snide comments. Running off to party, drink, and abuse drugs with his friends was becoming less and less effective at helping to numb himself from everything.
Lee ate less and less until he passed out at work. He was cleaning some dishes in the kitchen one second, and the next, everything shattered around him, and he was out cold. The next thing he knew, he was at the hospital, his father glaring at him. He had some minor cuts from the glass, which were easily fixed with bandages. His weight, however, was a concern. He denied it, telling the doctor he was fine. He must have just slipped on something and fallen. Maybe he hit his head, which caused him to pass out. The doctor bought it, at least in front of him. Outside the room, the doctor told his father to take him to talk to someone. "A shrink?" Perhaps. Whatever he thought was best for his son.
Whatever he thought was best for him. After a night of research and a day of phone calls, John knew exactly what that was.
Whatever his father thought was best for him was putting his own son in a fucking mental hospital.
On admitting day, Lee was oblivious. John kept him busy for a while before taking him out to lunch. In his room, Lee was sucked further into the wormhole that was his eating disorder. He uploaded pictures of his thin body on Instagram, his watchers supporting him. It was the only support he received. When he wasn't doing body checks, he read and posted on a familiar website, a pro-ana forum. He learned tips and tricks, how to hide his illness, and the like. Currently, Lee weighed an even one hundred pounds, something he proudly listed under his signature and around the board. Standing at five feet six inches, that wasn't healthy.
When his father was ready to go, they got into the car and left. Lunch was cruel; the bastard apparently knew he wasn't going to eat. That damn hospital doctor must have told him something. Lee watched as John ate a hamburger, the hunger starting to get to him, yet he refused to touch the salad his father ordered him. He sat there, arms crossed over his chest, refusing to look at him or even touch the food. "It's just lettuce, Lee. It's not going to kill you."
'Fuck you, dad.'
He rolled his eyes as his father laughed, the creep offering to buy him dessert before they left.
'You're getting some sick pleasure out of this, aren't you?'
His lack of a reaction finally had his father quiet. He got the check, paid, and they both got into the car. Lee had no idea why they were out, why his father had taken him to a diner. Where were they going? ...It wasn't home. Lee watched the signs pass them by, the unfamiliar area making him nervous. His chest and throat felt tight as a large building came into view, the sight of it causing him to panic. Naturally, Lee refused to get out of the car.
His father wasn't having it and practically dragged him out of the car and into the building. He got the attention of a nurse, claiming his son was a threat to himself and others. After all, he was starving himself! Lee caught what he said and, once more, began to panic. "What the hell are you going on about?" No, man, fuck this! He wouldn't let them take him away! He was tense, ready to riot. Yet, if he fought back, he would apparently only be proving his father's claims to be true. Lee was trapped in a mental battle, not hearing any of the nurses speak to him if they were.
A woman was, and let him be. She returned to speak to his father, informing him of what would most likely take place, and gave him forms to sign to get him admitted.
Lee was so focused, lost in his own mind, that he didn't even notice his father getting his suitcase out of the car trunk and bringing it back inside. It, along with Lee, was taken to one of the wings where his new, temporary home would be. He silently followed, his gaze keeping to the floor. He was simply stunned. His father wanted to get rid of him that badly to make false claims? Inside the room, Lee kept quiet as he sat on the bed, his vitals taken. He absentmindedly played with the plastic ID band on his wrist. He finally looked up when the nurse disappeared. Huh. A room all to his own. Another nurse popped up, checking to see if he was okay, with a change of clothes for him to put on. He wasn't paying attention as the woman spoke before she, too, left. Something about there being a schedule the patients were to follow. His brain was too clouded to think.
After about twenty minutes, a nurse came to retrieve him. Psychiatrist? Therapy? What, seriously? Well, after his father's claims... Sighing, he stood to his feet and followed the woman. He sat down on one of the chairs in the little waiting area. He was told it would only be a few minutes longer as the doctor was with another patient, which usually meant the opposite. He could be there for a while. His fingers itched, wanting his cell phone, which had long been taken away. He wanted to post about his forced admittance to the hospital on the forum, to get any sort of support from strangers he thought were his friends. The only support he ever received. He sighed, warily glancing toward the psychiatrist’s door, waiting.
