#bpd tease

[cluster-b-culture-is]

bpd culture is having an fp that expresses closeness through supposedly light-hearted insults but being so caught up in overthinking and knowing the jokes stem from a place in reality that you can't even bear to talk to them anymore and expressing this doesn't even help

.

[remusbuzzcutt]

it’d take a lot to pry sunkiller/jarty away from my hands. they both struggled similarly but dealt with it in such different ways. my friend juli wrote about them in a group therapy setting and i absolutely fixated on it for months for some reason??

imagine barty with bpd AND npd. he used people’s emotions like it was second nature. he didn’t even think twice. with that being said, he had an avoidant attachment style. if he was showing raw emotion, it was probably for show. he wasn’t “vulnerable” without the intention to be.

imagine james with bpd, who fixated on people so much that it was all he could thing about. he was obsessive to an almost concerning degree, but that’s what barty wanted.

he wanted to be on james’s mind like that, to consume his every thought. he got off on the idea of someone thinking about him like that. barty noticed the little details, all the things that james liked so that he could use it to make james think he actually cared. it got to a point where barty was trying so hard to get james obsessed with him, he didn’t realise that the only thing he could think about was james. his mood depended on how james reacted to him, how james acted and even the tone he spoke in.

[kindacuteandcrazy]

i truly always have to act cold. the moment i start acting a bit more silly because yes, I'm usually an expressive person, nothing I can do about it, people will make fun of me, tease me and will make me the bud of the joke. i wish there was someplace or someone i could be myself with.

[voidzphere]

☆ MASTERPOST // INTRO !!!

[ ALL THE BLOGZ I RUN: @killzbitezz (sideblog) @killersanz (killer sans askblog) @dailykillerr (daily killer sans that i have not posted on yet erm) ]

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

╭───────────── * ˚ ✦

HII !! im killer, but my friendz + mootz call me killz !! welcome to my blog ^_^ i luvv my prtnerz !! @mewobrute @sharkk-fin @glitchy-skull <3 (more stuff under the cut!!)

╰───────────── ✧.* ⋆

✩ ABOUT ME !!! >_<

FIRST OFF, HERE ARE SOME OF MY FLAGZ !!! :3 ↓↓↓

my main prnz are he/it/bite, but i alzo use vamp/fang/bone/skull/blood/gore/knife ! (plz dont refer 2 me w they/them)

my special interest is undertale + utmv ! (if that waznt obv enough..)

i love love LOVE horror gamez .. some of my favz rn are kinitopet, imscared, house, ddlc, rental, and bonnie's bakery :]

I HAVE A PERSONA ! u can find itz ref sheet here :] i uzually draw myself as either him or juzt killer sans !!

I LOOOVE MY MOOTZ, FRIENDZ, AND PARTNERZ <333

some of my current hyperfixationz are fionna & cake, smg4, regretevator, atsv, invader zim, adventure time & dialtown !

i have a guestbook !! leave a little note for me to read if u want :3

some of my fav bandz/artistz are talking heads, misfits, bad brains, rio romeo, lemon demon, will wood, pixies, melanie martinez, alex g, 6arelyhuman, goreshit, sex pistols, potsu, the living tombstone, etc. !

some of my fav songz are alien blues, vampire culture, laplace's angel, dr sunshine is dead, seriously?, genius of love, at the movies, charlie's inferno, etc. !

✩ my tagz !

#killz art - my art !! :3

#killz rb - reblogz

#killz yapz - my yap sessionz

#killz answerz - answerz to my askz

#vent kinda - my (kinda) ventz

#tag/ask game - self-explanatory

#killersanz - stuff related to my killer sans ask blog !

#killz fingie doodlez - stuff i drew w my finger :3

#killz srb - self reblogz

#killz sans - my sonaaa ^_^

✩ dni

basic dni criteria

istz + phobez

epiciller, /r + /sx errorink, etc.

pro/dark/comship (or whatever you call your weirdo selvez..)

irl doublez (unless i knew u beforehand!!) (im irlz of killer, reaper, & epic.)

minorz who post nsfw cuz ion wanna see that shit man go do ur homework

slander of my interestz/special interestz + hyperfixationz like stfu

mockery of me and/or my traitz (i.e my typing quirkz)

unwanted criticism, especially if i didnt ask for it. stfu part 2

anyone i've had drama with + my exez (fuck you)

HOMESTUCK. and hazbin hotel + helluva boss (tbh i dont rlly care if you like these mediaz and interact with me, just dont talk abt it in front of me yknow)

✩ byi + boundariez

i have autism + adhd, BPD, & typing quirkz !! tone indicatorz are optional when talking to me, but i appreciate them.

i'm an irl + fictkin ! i have a few c-linkz as well.

im not a roleplay account btw /srs

my art requestz are alwayz open ! can't promise i'll alwayz do them, but they help me out with inspiration though :3

DO NOT REPOST MY ART. i will find you

if you use my art, credit me. you dont alwayz gotta ask me before usin my art, but i appreciate it if you do !!

my askbox + dmz are alwayz open !! i love meetin new people n gettin to know em :] im fine w tagz, commentz, & spam-likez/reblogz too !

i might accidentally spam-like (i get too excited).

just because i make suggestive jokez and im hypersexual doez not mean i'm not sex-replused from time to time.

im a DID system and use i/me pronounz. i don't talk about my DID often becauze i see it as unimportant to other ppl.

i'm nonhuman !! plz do not refer to me as human. i prefer skeleton termz over everything else. im ur favorite homozexual cryptid-skeleton :3

i tend to ramble, say thingz that are out-of-pocket, have trouble with volume control/typing in all capz, make inappropriate jokez, flirt with & tease my close friendz, etc. if u ever find any of this bothering, plz inform me and i will stop.

i love drama + gossip, i will argue with strangerz on the internet just to spite them bc i find it funny ^_^ (only if theyre in the wrong and deserve it.)

i have strong opinionz and will shit-talk you if you're a weirdo who deservez it.

my blog, my rulez <3

★ last updated: 9/13/24

[frvnkcastles]

FILL THE VOID ➵ F. CASTLE

Summary: Struggling with BPD, you’re determined to not get attached to anyone again, but that quickly changes when you meet Frank.

Warnings: BPD, suicide ideation, language, hurt/comfort

Word count: 2.4k

Author’s note: Long time no see :) I’ve talked about this before but in addition to C-PTSD, I also struggle with borderline personality and I’ve started to talk about it with my therapist and it’s bringing up some feelings. Sooo I obviously had to write about it and insert Frank into the scenario to make myself feel better. I hope this resonates with someone else as well! <3

You had sworn to yourself you weren’t going to fall for anyone else ever again. You weren’t going to let anyone in, wouldn’t allow anyone to get close to you and unravel you and all your baggage. It was simply too much, bound to end in pain and abandonment and you couldn’t put yourself through that cycle for the millionth time.

Obviously, when you met Frank, he made that plan plenty hard to put into action. He was too charming for his own good, and he didn’t even know it. Really, he wasn’t looking for anything romantic and he certainly didn’t mean to sweep you off of your feet, yet he ended up doing exactly like that.

You were an idiot to think you wouldn’t get attached in one night. That was all it was supposed to be — just two strangers in your preferred albeit dingy bar, having a drink and chatting for the hell of it. You couldn’t deny that he was easy on the eyes, and little did you know, he thought about the same about you, but getting to know him more was what did the final nail in the coffin. You had your history of impulsive hook-ups, but you were really trying your best to ditch that unsafe habit. Somehow, connecting beyond the physical level was worse.

Your first mistake was asking his name. ”Frank”, he uttered out with that gravelly tone you were enjoying all too much, not bothering to do the whole handshake routine as he gulped down a swig of his beer and then looked over to you expectantly. You introduced yourself in return, but your mind was already wondering what Frank entailed, what kind of man you were on the cusp of learning about, and the curiosity was driving you crazy.

”So, who exactly is Frank Castle?” you queried, resting your jaw against your hand as you admired the man who started to look more and more delicious under the yellowy lights of the bar. He had a prickly stubble adorning his jawline and his hair was growing gloriously on the top, and there was something enchanting about his wide nose and the way he scrunched it up every single time he took a sip of his drink.

”Uhh…” He seemed reluctant to talk about his history, and you supposed you did come off a little strong. That should have been your sign to back off and be glad you dodged a bullet, but you just couldn’t help yourself.

”Sorry, don’t mean to pry”, you chuckled awkwardly, wiping your hair away from your face and looking down at your hands to avoid his stare.

”Nah, it’s alright”, he was quick to reassure you, something about the soft tone setting your soul alight as you looked back up at him. ”Just… ain’t a very happy story to share, y’know? Don’t wanna dampen the mood”, he continued, and you nodded in understanding before breaking into a teasing smile.

”And what mood is that?” you wondered before wetting your lips, and taking note of the sweep of your tongue, Frank once again found himself speechless before managing a chuckle, one that sounded almost nervous.

”I dunno, you tell me. ’M just enjoyin’ the company of a pretty lady right now”, he shrugged. Again, he hadn’t been looking for anything romantic, but he couldn’t deny being drawn to you already, and lately, he had challenged himself to put himself out there more. He would always miss his wife, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t allowed to find company in someone else after mourning her for years.

The compliment went straight to your head, feeding your already developing attachment. And before you knew it, you were exchanging numbers, an euphoric soar lifting your heart and undeniable excitement pounding at your ribcage with force necessary to break through. You were already being pulled in too deep to writhe away, and there was not a thing you could do to stop yourself from heading down that same path you had trodden so many times before.

When you finally called it a night, Frank, ever the gentleman, walked you to your apartment. And as you reached the front door, you swallowed thickly, knowing very well what was going through both of your minds. In fact, it was as if Frank had read yours.

”Hey, we can just say goodbye for now. No pressure”, he reminded, his hands deep in his pockets as he gave you a sincere look, insisting that he meant every word. You nodded carefully, tearing your gaze from his handsome face, knowing every second you spent looking at his impossibly deep eyes or full lips would only weaken your resolve more and more.

”Don’t get me wrong, I… I want to. But I really shouldn’t, I—I kind of have a bad habit of sleeping on the first date when I don’t even know the person that well and it usually backfires”, you explained shyly, rubbing the back of your neck and finally bringing your eyes back to him, finding a faint smile on his lips.

”I understand, sweetheart”, he promised, giving you a curt nod before taking a step back, ready to leave. Before he did, though, he gave you a look. ”Just so we’re clear, though… that wasn’t a first date. I’mma do it right whenever you have time for me”, he insisted, flashing a grin at you before turning on his heel and walking away, not even giving you time to process.

As you got inside your apartment and sealed the door behind you, an indestructible smile took over your features. So much for not getting attached.

At first, you were able to keep your behavior in check and Frank was none the wiser to your past issues, apart from the small tidbits you offered in return when he finally opened up about his family. He took you on dates, some of them with a great effort put into them, but some of them more lowkey which felt more like Frank. You were perfectly content having wine on the rooftop of his apartment building or sharing a pizza while watching cheesy action on his couch — you were just happy to bask in his company. He seemed perfect, like he could do no wrong, and even when he admitted to his vigilante activities, you saw no fault in him. To you, he was flawless, and you adored him.

But slowly, through the cracks in your facade, the problems you had feared were beginning to show.

It started when he ran into trouble with some criminals he had been after. His mood became irritated and stressed, and you took it to heart. Your own mood soured and you tried your best to help him, unable to stop thinking about him and how he was struggling, your mind in a vicious loop as you sat in the bad feeling. A few days later, he was feeling better, and you instantly felt rejuvenated and alive again, and when the inevitable disappointment came around once more, you couldn’t breathe.

The biggest downside, however, was him putting distance between you and him to avoid you getting caught in all his problems. And distance was not something you handled well. You didn’t know how to communicate it to him, either, so instead, you were left alone in an evil downward spiral.

You messaged. You called. You cried and you begged and pleaded for an answer and reassurance that he still cared about you. It was embarrassing and you felt so vulnerable and hurt that it was almost impossible to bear. You tried so hard to be rational and understand that he was probably in a lot of trouble and danger and he’d pay attention to you as soon as he could, but the wait was killing you. It felt like you were starving without him, like your emotions were bleeding and you didn’t have the tools to stop the flow. You were suffering and it was a pain only he could alleviate.

Eventually, one night, there was a knock on your door and you flew up from the couch where you had been reading over your and Frank’s text messages again and again. Without even bothering to check through the peephole, you swung the door open, and at the sight of Frank, you felt healed. You threw yourself in his arms, hugging him tightly and clinging on for dear life, with your eyes squeezed shut and your face buried into his chest.

”Hey, sweetheart”, he whispered, wrapping his arms around you as he walked into the apartment with a gentle nudge to push you along. He kicked the door shut and carefully pried you off of him, only so he could look into your eyes. ”I’m real sorry I haven’t gotten back to you. Been dealin’ with some scumbags for the past couple of days and it’s been… rough. But I shoulda called you back. That’s on me”, he apologized, a sad look in his eyes as he stared down at you.

”It’s okay”, you breathed out with a smile, ”you’re here now. That’s all that matters.” Just like that, it was like nothing had ever happened, all the pain forgotten now that you were finally back in his embrace. It was so easy to doubt his feelings for you when he was gone, like they ceased to exist when he wasn’t around to prove his affection every second, but now that he was back… you were over the moon.

But the worst was yet to come.

”Yeah, about that, sweetheart…”, he started, and in an instant, your heart sank. ”I… I ain’t here to stay. I gotta get out of town for a while. I got these guys after me…”, he explained, but as he went on, the words didn’t register. All you heard was that he was leaving and that was enough to break you.

Tears welled up in your eyes and you grabbed ahold of Frank’s arm. ”Don’t leave me, please”, you whispered, ”you can’t leave me. Please, Frank.” His heart broke at the sight of you crying, and he reached for your cheek to wipe the tears away with his thumb, but the soft gesture did nothing to comfort your breaking heart.

”I’m sorry, sweet girl, I am”, he spoke, and quietly, he leaned in to kiss your forehead. As his lips collided with your hot skin, you closed your eyes and tightened your hold on his arm, but it didn’t deter him.

Gently but firmly, he undid your grip from him and left. The apartment became painfully quiet, but only for a while, as your loud sobs soon enough broke the peace. You fell to your knees, clawing on your chest as you wept and grieved what felt like a monumental loss.

It was the beginning of the end, you thought. You quickly lost the will to get up in the mornings, to eat, to sleep. In fact, you could no longer see the point in living, at all. You contemplated just putting an end to your miserable existence, feeling not only griefstricken but so goddamn humiliated. You had let yourself get caught up in it again, had let someone in and as always, it ended with you depressed and suicidal at the bottom of your bed.

When were you going to learn?

For the first couple of days, you loathed yourself. Then, your mind started to turn against Frank. He had hurt you, had disappointed you, had hurt you. He had held your heart in his hand and he had just crushed it. How could he do that? He had to be evil. He had to be cruel. It was his fault and his alone. And yet, you would have done anything to have him back.

One week later, that was exactly what happened. There was a knock on your door again and you found the strength to get out of your bed to find out who it was, though you were only hoping for one person.

Much to your relief and delight, when you opened the door, Frank was stood there looking like a kicked puppy, his dark eyes filled with something apologetic and his hands folded in front of him like he was getting ready to beg for your forgiveness.

”Sweetheart, I—”, he began, gulping as he hesitated. ”Your friend called me. Told me everything. About… about you”, he went on, causing your eyes to widen in surprise. You didn’t know how to feel about that revelation. You supposed you had to be grateful to your friend who had visited you in your mourning, because she had brought Frank back to you, but you also felt ashamed. Like Frank saw you in a completely different light now. Surely, he was here to end it with you for good, unable and unwilling to associate with someone as troubled as yourself.

”I didn’t know me leavin’ would hurt you so deeply. I never wanna cause you any pain, baby. I… I’m fallin’ for you and I only left because it wasn’t safe, not ’cause I didn’t care for you. But I understand now that it must’ve been real bad for you when I did that”, he explained, and slowly, you nodded. You raked your fingers through your knotted hair, feeling insecure under the weight of his stare, but he found you just as beautiful as always.

”Are you here to break up with me?” you asked weakly, sniffling as you looked down at your feet. He reacted immediately, lifting your chin with his fingertip and meeting your gaze.

”No. Fuck, never. ’M here to ask you to come with me. I still have a lot to do but I want you on the road by my side. How does that sound, sweetheart?” he proposed, a hopeful smile on his lips.

You couldn’t believe your ears. But sure enough, you mirrored his smile eventually, and your heart came back to life.

”I would love to, Frank”, you sighed, breaking into tears again, this time out of happiness. He quickly pulled you into a hug, squeezing you in his arms and kissing the top of your head. And when he withdrew from you, it was only so he could meet your lips with his own in a tender but loving kiss. It was slow and deep and it took your breath away, your stomach doing backflips as you wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him back with all your might.

There was still a lot you hadn’t revealed to him, but it was the first time someone had seen you at your lowest and accepted it, welcomed it, and for that, you had a feeling that Frank could really, truly, genuinely be the one.

[snoopeie]

Art, BPD and Splitting.

It's the way that, prior to meeting Tashi, Art accepted that he will spend the rest of his life playing second fiddle to Patrick. I mean, "I'm already at peace with the fact that you're going to win" is literally the foundation of their dynamic. Art was content to watch himself lose, to be teased by Patrick constantly, because it meant being close to the one person that offered him a sense of identity at the time. He thought Patrick is so cool, so talented, that anything he wanted, Art wanted 10 times more. Patrick wanted to be fire, so Art wanted to be fire (this wasn’t in the actual film, it's a line in the script). Patrick was fantasizing about Kat Zimmerman, so Art asked to be let into that fantasy. Patrick wanted Tashi, so Art wanted Tashi so much it made him sick (he wanted Tashi so much that she became his next FP). You get the gist. Meeting Tashi, another person Art thought was so cool and so talented, made Art see another version of himself, another identity he wanted to consume (Mike's words, not mine). That's what made Patrick slip off the pedestal a bit, but it wasn't until Art felt like Patrick was taunting and humiliating him, with the same traits Art previously wanted for himself mind you, that he fell off completely. You can see this seething anger he has towards Patrick in the sauna scene, anger that has real pain and hurt behind it, the pain of allowing himself to be sidelined by a person he loved. That moment where he told Patrick "It's not about where you come from in tennis Patrick. It's about winning. And I do. A lot" that's him saying "see, I took these things from you and I actually made something of them, something you couldn't do". The "you never grew up so and I'm so mad at you for it, because at a certain point in time, I respected you so much that I wanted to be you".

source : https://lifeasalunatic.substack.com/p/borderline-personality-disorder-bpd

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA For Not Budging On A Potentially Unconventional Need?

I (M20+) have BPD and Autism, and when I was younger, they'd both team up to cause me a lot of struggle.

One of the biggest things I used to do was self isolate when I was upset or worried, and just sit around after throwing out some red flags, hoping someone would read my mind and ask me if I was alright.

OBVIOUSLY THAT WASN'T VERY HEALTHY, neither for myself or for others. I definitely think that was an "ESH" time period.

So now that I'm older, in therapy, taking meds, and generally doing better and am a lot happier, I put clear communication as my #1 priority in all of my relationships.

I don't phrase anything in a way that sounds confrontational, I don't tell people what they can or can't do, who they can or can't talk with, don't get jealous too easily, etc. I only ask for honesty, compromise, and mutual respect for boundaries.

I really thought I was doing well for myself by swapping "I won't communicate at all" out for "I need to communicate often"

But one thing that I just can't seem to stop is the paranoia when it comes to people I'm particularly close and very vulnerable with; I'll notice certain changes in their demeanor and worry it's because I've done something wrong, or that they don't like me as much anymore. Sometimes I CAN brush it off and wait it out until I'm inadvertently proven otherwise.

But if it's not going away, and I'm worried it's just getting worse, I need to just ask for their honest thoughts and get it over with. If for some reason they were actually upset, my intention would NOT be to double down or lash out. I just DON'T want to be strung along by a lie, as has happened!

This isn't really that common of an occurrence either. Maybe every few weeks during particularly hard periods.

I don't feel this way about people I'm not very close to, and people who do manage to get very close to me know this about me; I keep no secrets about my mental health and try to be extremely upfront. A lot of people will say at first that they understand, but over time, I'll eventually get that flack and heartache from them, saying that it's just too exhausting for them. At best, I'm kinda teased for it. It's made me feel like I haven't made as much progress in my recovery as I thought I had, which sucks.

It's not me starting arguments or fights, or accusing them of anything. Just me saying "Hey, I've been feeling a little paranoia lately, is everything okay between us? Is there anything we should talk about?" or something like that.

I'm really conflicted about it.

On one hand, I feel like if things are okay, it shouldn't be difficult or tiring to say "Nope, everything's alright, dw!" If you still like me in a certain way, why would it be tiring to just say so? It takes maybe five seconds to type/say. The only way I can see it being tiring is if they were just telling me white lies about how they felt, and had to maintain the act.

On the other hand, I know BPD isn't without its delusions, and that Autism isn't without its "misunderstanding of social norms". I know I'm likely to see things differently from others. I know it's not exactly EASY to love someone like me. Maybe it IS too much of a demand, and I've just convinced myself it's not?

This IS something I'm trying to work through in therapy regardless, but I just worry that it isn't a symptom that will ever fully go away, and instead it needs to be worked with.

Am I the asshole for standing by that, at LEAST for now? Is it fair? Or is that too much of a need for people to reasonably accommodate? Am I just not trying hard enough to be better?

If I ever got particularly close to someone again, would I be an asshole for again insisting that if I need reassurance to dismiss an oncoming spiral, they should be able to meet that need instead of asking that I keep the paranoia to myself and just deal with it on my own? Which may or may not work, or even make things worse.

I know it can make people feel like I don't trust them. That much I do understand! But I've tried telling them that it's not that I don't trust or respect them, I don't trust or respect myself. I dunno if that makes sense to anyone without BPD, though.

This is both a "Was I the asshole?" and a "Would I be the asshole?" ask I guess, lol

[cas-backwards-tie]

Chapter One: Seed Uprooted

Heiress of Gotham

Bruce Wayne x Daughter!Reader

Masterlist | Next Chapter

Summary: After the loss of your mother, it feels as if all hope is lost. Fortunately, you’ve been placed in the care of your absentee father. The Wayne name has always been said to come with a few odds and ends that you’d have to get used to, the question is: will you?

Warnings: Angst, Anti-Police themes, Cursing, Death, Depression themes, Orphanage

Words: 1.5k

A/N: This has actually been in my drafts and in my docs for... at least three years, I know. It's been rewritten at least twice, and I'm finally deciding to put it out there.

I remember that day. I remember exactly where I was when I’d found out. And I remember the moment I met him.

The high-pitched ringing gives permission for us to finally leave the classroom, Mrs. Gurdept’s earlier demand that “the bell doesn’t dismiss you, I do.” did not divert anyone’s attention from packing up. Backpack already strung across your shoulders, you’re out the door along with everyone else. While your friend Daisha talks about how annoying the classmate is that sits next to her in History, it’s the uniformed men coming your way that catches your attention. It’s the BPD: the Bludhaven Police Department. Parting the sea of students the police officer’s eyes scan the faces of the students passing them. Heart rate rising, you try to keep your eyes on Daisha, determined to look engaged in conversation enough to skate past them without questioning.

“Miss?” One of the officers steps in front of you, blocking your path. Eyes immediately jumping up to his face, you scowl. “Can you answer a few questions for me?” Rumor has it they’re looking for Perdy Chapman, one of the sophmores who supposedly ran away from home once he’d been ousted as a drug runner for Marin’s gang; worst part was… he was funny, nice, and a straight A student. Officer reaching into the pocket on his breast, the white glimpse of a folded paper is barely seen before you respond. There’s no doubt it was some sappy photo of your classmate that you most definitely don’t want to see.

“No, I’m sorry, Officer. We’re late to practice!” Instantly grabbing Daisha’s hand you tug her along behind you, speedwalking toward the exit. She doesn’t question you; most of the kids know by now: never talk to the police. If you haven’t done anything wrong, then there’s no reason to talk to them. They’re all corrupt anyway.

Sitting on top of the cement barriers blocking off the parking lot from the kiss-and-ride line, Daisha playfully smacks your arm. “‘We’re late to practice’? Are you kidding me? You were so fucking quick with that!” A fit of laughter consumes the both of you, the imagined frustrated looks upon the cop’s faces bringing you practically to tears. It takes a while to calm down, the conversation turning into gossip, and eventually into Daisha sharing some of the memes she’d recently seen online. 

“Do you think it’s gonna rain?” The question leaves your lips as your eyes watch the dark, ominous clouds roll through the sky. A wet smell of oncoming rain lingers in the air like the humid and hot summer nights in the Carnaveron District. 

“Well… if the clouds aren’t an obvious sign, I’d say yes,” she teases. The three short honks are our signal: her mom is here. Jumping off the cement barrier we head over to the spot she’s parked in line, a soft drizzle makes itself known as the drops plunk the roof of the car. Daisha sweeps you into a quick hug before getting into the car, the duo waving goodbye before driving off. Since you don’t live far, it’s easier to walk. It’s the one part of your routine that consistently brings you joy. The breeze and gentle pitter of rain on your skin helps clear your head of all the school drama. Off toward home, you find yourself beginning to get lost in thought about tonight’s homework assignments and what you have to do. It’s only the buzz of the cell phone in your pocket that brings you back to reality. “Auntie?”

“It’s your mother. Get to the hospital as soon as you can. Cuidate, mija.” The dial tone signals the call’s ended. Frozen there on the sidewalk, time doesn’t seem to pass; thunder rumbles in the distance, it’s the only thing that reminds you that time is still moving. It starts to sprinkle rain.

~~~Two Hours Later~~~

Technically you were an orphan… at least that’s what you’d thought. Legally they were mandated to send you to a state-run orphanage. Everyone probably thinks they don’t exist today, and yet, there it was… right in front of you, open and waiting: the gates of purgatory calling your name. Though on the borders of Bludhaven and the streets that lead toward the country part of the state, the building looks like any other. Brown bricks, tall elongated windows; it would look like a ghastly warehouse to you from the outside if you didn’t notice the tricycle on the lawn, or the chalk drawings on the sides of the building and sidewalk leading up to it. 

“I have to take this call, excuse me,” the social worker steps away from the black Hatchback Sedan. Lost in your own world, it doesn’t even occur to you to eavesdrop on her call. There’s no possible way that things could get worse than this. Nonetheless, many ‘mhms’ and ‘okay, I understands’ are heard throughout the field adjoining the driveway. The grey clouds finally starting to disperse, it’s quiet out here, the only murmur of your social worker talking and the occasional passing car fill the air. Just as the numbness starts to churn in your stomach at the thought of your Mom, there’s a knocking on the car window.

“Damn!” There’s an exasperated and ludicrous look in her eyes. “Someone’s got one hell of a guardian angel lookin’ out for you, kid. Follow me.” Even if she’s audible through the glass, she doesn’t wait to check as she turns and heads toward the orphanage’s entrance. Though thoughts of running away cross your mind, there’s no logical reason to do so. What’s left out here for me? Nothing.

Once inside of the building you're told to sit tight on one of the wooden benches by the entrance office. Though the social worker chats with the warden, you don't pay them any mind. Their words go in one ear and out the other, your fiddling fingers in your lap far more entertaining as you try and comprehend what the toll of your mother's death will have on the rest of your life. Sixteen, and no longer any semblance of security in any realm of matter toward your future. How did this happen?

It feels as if it's instantaneous, yet the wall on the clock shows over half an hour has passed. Doors creak open with the cool ocean-ladened post-rain wind, an older man closes the umbrella he'd been holding over the younger-looking man who strides into the building with a sort of conviction that only exists through the air it permeates. They both are adorned in long trench coats and sunglasses, though the younger wears a black hat.

"Lisa! I assume this is her," the broad man addresses your social worker before turning his gaze down toward you. With the click of the door's lock as it seals shut, all noise diminishes in the halls of the orphanage aside from the faint echo of children's laughter in the distance. The building instantly warms by a few degrees and the men take off their sunglasses, pocketing them. Mouth subconsciously falling agape, you recognize one of them. The man standing before you is one you've only seen all your life on billboards, television, and in magazines: Bruce Wayne. He crouches to your eye-level.

"Yes, this is-" Lisa, the name of the woman you'd only known as your social worker, begins to introduce you. What follows truly feels like some sort of grief-stricken concoction of fantasy, and though it might be dangerous, you follow it.

It isn’t until the car pulls up to the massive and ornate double doors that you snap out of it. “This isn’t a joke?” He must be tired of it: this most likely being the fifteenth time you’ve asked such a thing in the last hour.

“No. It’s not,” while one might pick up on the disappointed tone in his voice, Bruce Wayne offers a small, sympathetic smile. His hand gently comes to rest on your shoulder, leading you out of the clean, sleek Rolls Royce.

“It’s a pleasure, Miss,” the elderly man states your name in a titular way. Taken aback, he hardly registers in your mind. Too many thoughts and emotions consume you, leaving nothing but a rapidly beating heart and a million questions tucked inside the body of a young girl. The fields had turn back into factories, factories into skyscrapers, skyscrapers into trees, and by then you’d finally come onto the property. In the dark there wasn’t much to take in; light illuminating windows upon rows of windows that span so far you wonder for a moment if they ever stop. Yet the edge of the mansion can be spotted from your place by the door, too weary to step inside.

"Are you coming?" Bruce Wayne, himself, asks you.

"I'm afraid if you stand out there all night you'll catch a cold," the older gentleman, whom you've already forgotten the name of, warns.

"That reminds me, Alfred, please go set up a bath for her. I'll take her upstairs," Bruce delegates. Though you wouldn't know it for months, he decided to give you a moment. Waiting at the door, he remembers the hours and days that followed his own parents' death. He's well aware that this is undoubtedly a big moment for you, if not the biggest in your lifetime, and thus, a little patience won't hurt.

"This is..." you can barely even come up with a sentence, let alone a string of thoughts as you take in the palace before you.

"-your new home? Yes." He finishes the thought for you.

~~~~~~~~~

taglist: @ohdamnadam, @safarigirlsp, @jynzandtonic , @moonlightsolo

[twistedsocials]

“You’re so defensive and get angry at the slight mischaracterization of your favs” autism spectrum disorder and adhd does that to you buddy.

Anyways, I’m so tired of the mischaracterization and the sexualization of Floyd. No he’s not some possessive Yandere over Yū (I can go into a rant on why he canonically doesn’t give a shit about Yū manga wise and I believe just in canon)/Azul/Riddle. No he’s not some sexual predator. No he would not fucking grope your Yuusona/OC if they were a girl/afab. No he’s not Kaebadoening (how do you spell that sorry ToT) your Yū in the library and slobbering all over them. No he’s not being a whole creep to Riddle at all or a bully. No he’s not abusing Riddle.

On that part, I’ve went into a rant before but what him and Riddle have is NOT abuse at all. It’s literally simple teasing, and it’s literally shown that he’s nicer to Riddle than he is to most who aren’t Azul or Jade. Making him out to be a whole bully when he literally made Riddle eat after Riddle brought up the amount of calories he had, which is something that was enforced on Riddle by his own mother, it’s implied he literally went to Riddle and was fascinated by his hair color in the Stitch Event, he literally had the most romantic face in his bean fest vignette talking about Riddle. That is not a fucking bully.

On something else, acting like he’s a heartless murderer when he’s just 17 and wants to tease/bully the students. Not like he’s actively trying to kill them? Where do people get that he’s maimed students? Most he’s done I believe is just get into fights which is not excusable at all but acting like he’s a murderer is crazy.

He’s 17. Stop sexualizing a whole minor PLEASE. Stop acting like he’s some weirdo sex offender who will jump on anything that’s hot. He’s heavily speculated to have Bpd by some fans and I believe has also displayed traits of adhd (as an audhd person myself I can smell my own kind). He’s not some perv just neurodivergent. “It’s my headcanon” that doesn’t apply when you’re mischaracterizing someone so badly like this and making them out to be some weird deprived freak.

TWST fandom stop mischaracterizing someone so badly (Riddle, Jamil, Kalim, Sebek, Malleus, Idia, Vil, Rook etc) or sexualizing literal minors (1st-2nd years or literal children like Cheka) challenge go! Last part applies especially if you’re a grown adult doing that.

Aughh I’m sorry if this is bad I’ll delete it if it is/gen

[hellonearthtoday]

Made up version of Curly Shepard I've created in my head

(its just a bunch of headcanons)

- He has traces of New York in his accent. I can NOT explain and I won't because I don't know man, they're from New York to me and idk why they came to mf Oklahoma but they did

- Curly isn't very brave. Most of the things he does that come off as "brave" are just acts of stupidity that he plays off as him being really brave and cool (He didn't think about the consequences of his actions beforehand and now he's malding about them)

- Wouldn't recognize his own emotions if he was forced to write a 10 page paper on them and also because he'd bribe Ponyboy to write the essay for him. And then he'd skim the essay and go "this is wrong 🤨"

- Growing undiagnosed BPD just trust me bro and maybbeee autism too

- Worst case of resting bitch face in the entire world. While Ponyboy just kinda looks 😐 all the time, Curly just has this untreatable tension line in his eyebrows and he looks angry all the time. But his eyes are 90% always wide open he just cannooot fix his damn eyebrows. It plagues him in his sleep too and he has to manually relax his face and he's always like Damn almost forgot 😌

- He really loves the feeling of getting money. He loves money so much. Someone tell this guy what a job is

- He's not really too interested in learning, or at least he THINKS he's not, but that's because nothing they ever teach at school is interesting to him so he's come to the conclusion that learning is stupid and he'll stick to doing sick wheelies in his car

- On this note. If Curly was introduced to forensic science he would absolutely eat that shit up. He would love everything to do with more morbid topics, because it's just intrinsically not boring. Like stages of decomposition? Fire. he has dreams of stumbling across a dead body and being able to identify the stage of decomposition it's in.

- He would definitely like the grosser side of forensic science, like the biological aspects. Morbid teenage boy with hidden potential locked away because they don't typically teach forensic science in the basic curriculim 😓

- His voice is pretty smooth but to counteract it he talks really harshly, and also just isn't a wordsmith. He's really straightforward and he's not really good at clever jokes or teasing and he kind of talks like he's a background villain grunt in a pokemon game

[skele-bunny]

Dewther rambles? 🥺 Please Aru?

OIGHGIII OKAY

Been mates since they met, but only made it official after a week. They just connected so well, and Dewdrop was silently head over heels. Loved leaving little shells or rocks he found at the depths of the river at Aether's door, but was too nervous to admit it when Aether asked about it.

Dew was NOT the Dewdrop he is now, constantly lurking around corners to watch Aether and just quickly hiding away when Aether would look over to where he was. Tail just slowly wagging if Aether was even mentioned in passing conversation.

Got caught leaving a little pearl at Aether's door, not knowing he was in the kitchen. When he got caught he just jumped so high, tail between his legs. Aether just handed him a rose quartz back for a little trade. Courted him right then and there, and have been inseparable since!

Ohh Dew is so loud with Aether, loves teasing and making fun of him. Still throws things at him wether it's his baphomet plush, pillows, clothes, or straight up a plastic cup—whatever Dew gets his hands on it's meeting Aether LMAO

When Aether has his migraine episodes, Dew will curl around his head or let him lay on him, just warming himself up as it's one of the things that helps settle Aeth's pain. He's so quiet, just slowly stroking through Aether's hair and deflaking his horn bases.

Dew's BPD splits are usually targeted with Aeth, but he's gotten to the point he can recognize Dew splitting or on the verge of one. They always talk it through, though! Wether it's during or after, they're able to push through it. He's started understanding his triggers for them too, and tries being as accommodating as possible to avoid.

Biggest cuddlers or constantly need to feel one another. Wether it's sleepy holds, hand holding, hugs, tail wraps, they're always touching one another when they're near. Not only does it comfort their shared separation anxiety, but also feels so intimate.

Aether is soooo fucking protective of Dewdrop. Knows his firefly can very much so defend himself, has seen it first hand, but doesn't mean he won't take the lead when needed. Someone starting shit? Dew is intercepted and Aether is either de-escalating with just his presence or pushing back against them.

Aannnd Dew does the same! Satan help you if you even dare to make fun of Dewey's mate. He's gotten detention so many times in the abbey for hitting others. Doesn't regret a single one, especially the time he socked a kitchen ghoul in the mouth for teasing Aether about getting a second serving. Knocked out their front fuckin teeth!

Spicy wise? They're either freak or sweet, not really an in-between.

CW - BLOOD PLAY, BONDAGE, NEEDLE PLAY

*Fat used with endearment.

Aether loves going slow with Dewdrop and complimenting his body, hands delicate over his skin and knows just where to press to make Dew tremble or whine. He always makes Dewdrop feel so beautiful and erases so much self-consciousness he has about himself.

LOOVVEE blood and knife play. Dew is insane about the risk and it turns him on so so much. Aether is methodical, knows where to cut and where not to, he works in the OR. Will gladly make designs on Dew's back that are blood bonds or sigils.

Needles are also a big thing for both of them! Aether knows how to make them hurt, purely decoration, or just to get Dew in that pretty subspace.

Another thing Dew bottoms for is bondage. An absolute rope bunny with Aeth as his rigger. Loves simple harnesses all the way to suspension, it's especially fun with Aether fucks him upside down in it.

OhhHhh body worship Aether kink with praise while Dew just admires him... Dew just kissing his belly, grabbing his love handles. "Love how you look. So fucking soft. So beautiful, love how fat you are. Just for me, only for me." Dew getting smothered by Aether's thighs and ass, snuggling in his chest, just kissing everywhere he can. He loves Aether so fucking much dude

Sleepy morning sex is always a thing for them, or just lazy hand/blowjobs. Always just purring and snuggled as close as they can, soft kisses being shared back and forth.

GAH THEYRE IN LOVE

[johannestevans]

"Wait, you write books?"

Yeah, a few. So I have hundreds of short stories, serials, and essays available on my Medium and my Patreon, but I have several books out too!

Powder and Feathers

DARK ROMANCE, CONTEMPORARY FANTASY, FALLEN ANGELS, TRANSMASC PROTAG, ALCOHOLIC PROTAG, BPD PROTAG, FOUND FAMILY, TRAUMA RECOVERY, RAPE RECOVERY, EMOTIONAL MANIPULATION, ROUGH SEX & KINK

Aimé Deverell, a depressed and lonely artist finishing up his degree in Dublin, watches the world go by, and paints it as it goes. Life is short, he thinks - and thank God!

He’s tired of living it.

That philosophy shatters like glass when his life is threatened by the beautiful Jean-Pierre, a Fallen angel.

Reviews on GoodReads / Reviews on TheStoryGraph / Buy on Amazon / Buy on SmashWords

Heart of Stone

COZY ROMANCE, SLOWBURN, SLICE-OF-LIFE, PERIOD FANTASY, VAMPIRES, ADHD PROTAG, AUTISTIC PROTAG, VAMPIRE BITES, INTIMACY, EMPLOYER & EMPLOYEE

The year is 1764, and following a glowing recommendation from his last employer, Henry Coffey, vampire, takes on a new personal secretary: young Theophilus Essex. The man is quite unlike any secretary - or any man, for that matter - that Henry has ever met.

Reviews on GoodReads / Reviews on TheStoryGraph / Buy on Amazon / Buy on SmashWords

Gerald Poole and the Pirates

NOVELLA, PERIOD ROMANCE, ROMCOM, THREESOME, KIDNAPPING, POWER DYNAMICS, ADHD PROTAG, AUTISTIC PROTAG, TEASING, HUMOUR

Gerald Poole, a young Englishman, is miserable when he is dispatched abroad aboard a naval vessel, and is reluctantly attended to by the cold and put-upon Lieutenant Jack Wicks - this tense relationship is interrupted and put under pressure when the two are kidnapped by pirates.

Reviews on GoodReads / Reviews on TheStoryGraph / Buy on Amazon / Buy on Smashwords

---

And again, if you're a book reviewer or blogger who is low/no income and would like me to send you voucher codes to get any of these for free, just reach out to me at contact@johannestevans.com

No expectation of a positive review and/or a deadline put on reviews!

[hellodaydream1111111111111111]

GON IS NOT AN INNOCENT LITTLE SUNSHINE!

He is a BPD gremlin that will help others if it aligns with his goals and he is incapable of seeing things from a another point of view when he’s angry, he also isn’t some innocent little baby that has no idea about love or anything, he openly teases Killua who he knows has a massive crush on him and he’s waiting for Killua to speak up about it. I don’t hate him, I actually love him he’s adorable but he has flaws and his character is constantly misinterpreted.

Edit: I didn’t write this clearly enough, whoops. I think Gon knows that Killua loves him but I don’t think he knows actually how Killua feels, perceiving it more as Killua just loving him like a friend not a romantic partner. Though I think he’s starting to get an idea that Killua and him might be more than best friends. I used the term “Massive crush” and that didn’t properly convey what I was trying to say lmfao.

[pumpkinsy0]

more bpd ponyboy hcs? 🫶

OoOoOo bpd pony wassupp ALSO, btw to make it clear, this is pony when hes older like maybe 20ish

•i think pony would def come off as being clingy, and he hates it SO much, he doesn’t want to seem overbearing, but it just happens, and he tries to stop it so its this odd cycle of “tell me what ur doing, wait no dont tell me everything” and its confusing

•slipping in papercut, whoops, but when it comes to this, sometimes it annoys curly bc he doesnt like to b questioned, and while he knows “something is up” w pony, hes still defensive of himself, and he gets upset w pony, and pony ends up thinking hes just ruined their relationship and ends up not talking to him for a bit

•he already has this feeling of “maybe im the problem” and so when ppl tease him, he rlly takes it to heart, and it seems out of proportion for others, but to him its like hes defending himself, hes pretty much in edge a lot and pays attention to the comments ppl make of him

•ALSO, bc of his own unstable self image, sometimes the compliments inflate his ego, but other times hes thinking “what a liar”

•in this case scenario, i could see pony relying more on pills to try and cope with how he feels, it helps him sleep better, and as a result “helps him” calm down

•maybe???he gets into drinking too??? not a lot but def more frequently, he still doesnt LIKE it, but sometimes he gets overwhelmed and decides to release that in other ways

•theres times where bc of his outburst, pony feels like hes a kid, ESPECIALLY bc ppl feel like they have to tip toe around him and they baby him and bc he cant properly explain how he feels, he just HATES it

•he disassociates, no longer than a few days, but he does

•he can make very rash decisions and hop from one thing to the next, for example, darry could ask pony where hes working and chances r pony will have a different job than before

•i feel like w his bpd he would also have ptsd maybe seasonal depression, as a result of what happened

•when its around the year of what happened i could see his mood swings being worse, tbh

[rottenwhimsy]

villanelle and autism

side notes before i begin:

some of these traits could also be explained by cluster b disorders, as she’s heavily bpd coded and canonically aspd, but i see her as both cluster b AND autistic.

also, please don’t say things like “YES she’s not a psychopath, she’s autistic instead” because she’s still very much aspd and i don’t want to take that away. i’ve seen a lot of people with aspd really identify with villanelle and say she portrays it well.

just scroll if you don’t agree, this is a harmless headcanon and i’m simply explaining why i have this headcanon, as well as why a lot of autistic people seem to relate to her (people get SO mad if you even insinuate a popular character might be autistic lol)

masking/mirroring

masking is a strategy used to hide neurodivergent traits in order to blend in with neurotypicals. this can include mirroring (mimicking others expressions/behaviors), or even entire persona changes.

in the very first scene villanelle carefully observes a man smiling then mimics his smile (1x01)

villanelle hears a woman laugh on the radio then mimics her laugh, later she reuses that same laugh with sebastian (1x02)

liked copying the statue people in the street (2x05)

often mimics konstantin and predicts what he’s going to say

can quickly switch personas, adopts different accents and dialects quickly, and reuses phrases that are said to her

taking things literally

when talking about villanelle anna says “she was quite literal” and goes on to describe how villanelle misinterpreted a joke so confidently that she killed someone because of it (1x07)

interprets the bible extremely literally in season 4

“i have children” “i don’t want your children” (1x05)

“sheep are happier than wolves” “you spend your time off surveying sheep?” (3x08)

took konstantin saying “do something normal” literally (1x02)

“you are not a pumpkin, you a beautiful” (1x04)

kills gabriel because she thought he was genuinely asking to die when he was expressing how sad he was about his situation (2x01)

sensory seeking (& sensitivities)

touches and focuses on the texture of the liliana rizzari duvet, goes out of her way to ask the man she’s killing for the name of the duvet, later purchases it for herself and carefully feels the texture of it again (1x01)

generally touches and smells everything

“i want to smell her skin” (4x03) as well as her describing her ideal perfume in detail then asking eve and konstantin to smell her (3x03)

hates wearing crocs and other “non-nice” things, is very fixated on “nice” things like high quality clothes and food

makes people stroke her hair when she’s feeling upset (2x05 and 4x01)

bold fashion with a lot of colors/patterns/textures

seems to dislike most people hugging her

more up to interpretation, but she wore headphones in 3x04 and 3x05, once while she was having a meltdown on a train

struggles with social cues

includes coming off as blunt/rude, trouble navigating groups, and not interpreting situations correctly

how awkward and blunt she was at her wedding (3x01)

interacting with the church, especially in 4x02

doesn’t know how to react to displays of emotion (gabriel crying, benita crying, was confused and froze when her brother was being affectionate)

doesn’t understand why some people are upset with her (konstantin in s2, may in s4, eve at multiple points)

doesn’t understand that certain things will make people upset (being very blunt with gabriel then being put off when he starts crying)

struggles with understanding boundaries

doesn’t see authority figures as an authority (teasing and flirting with the prison guards, threatening konstantin, casually killing anton, doesn’t seem to understand consequences)

does not follow rules that don’t make sense to her

breaks into eve’s house expecting a normal dinner, doesn’t know how to calm eve down and ends up making her panic more (1x05)

didn’t understand why eve’s coworkers were acting scared of her (3x08)

is confused as to why sebastian laughs when she says she likes national anthems (1x02)

not understanding why her mom was laughing at her and that it was mocking “you always laugh at things that aren’t funny” “like you?” “yes” (3x05)

stimming

the repetitive performance of certain physical movements or vocalizations in order to self soothe or express emotion

big jumpy happy dance (3x04)

during cup game (3x05)

jumping and spinning on the heels of her boots by the train with rhian (3x08)

her copying noises she hears could be a type of vocal stim, echolalia

on the train ride at the end of 3x05

there are more examples but i can’t list them all since she generally bounces around a lot and has a lot of big movements

inappropriate/bizarre responses

yelling “this is so BORINGGG” while in an art museum (2x04)

“i mean i masturbate about you a lot” (1x08)

yelling “JUST DUNK ME” while getting baptized (4x01)

soooo many instances that again i can’t list them all…

alexithymia

alexithymia is the difficulty feeling or identifying emotions (or physical stressors like pain)

her whole aa meeting speech in 2x06 about how she feels nothing and the distress it causes (is extremely bored, hurts herself and it doesn’t hurt, just wants to feel something)

doesn’t know if she’s telling the truth or not (2x07), this could also be because of masking as too much masking can cause identity confusion, not knowing what you’re faking and what’s authentic

weakened sense of danger, even says “i don’t get scared” (2x08)

says she’s fine then immediately collapses (2x01)

other traits

meltdowns, especially at the end of 3x05 where she was wearing headphones and had increased stimming while crying

low empathy

attaches to and fixates on a specific person, obsession prone

REJECTION SENSITIVE DYSPHORIA

has always felt estranged and inherently different from others, “i’m not normal you know” (2x01)

detail oriented, notices things others don’t

bad at dancing/rhythm

exaggerated facial expressions

exaggerated speech

poor impulse control

differences in expressing emotions and communication

only comfortable with select people

perfectionism, hates working with a team and wants to do jobs alone (1x04, 3x02)

feels threatened when irina knows more languages than her, as languages are something villanelle is very interested in (1x08)

black and white thinking