#my adhd kicked in

[neptunezo]

The idea of the batkids scaring Bruce with “a new grandchild” to only show an animal is so funny to me, because imagine Bruce is so used to it that when Jason wants to introduce him to his new grandchild Bruce almost falls out of his chair when there’s an ACTUAL KID!

Dick: You’re a granddaddy now Brucie!!!

Bruce: WHAT?!? Who?? When??? How??? Actually don’t tell me how. Who is she??? When did she give birth???

Dick: What? No, meet my kid *holds up a cat* her name is biscuit and shes the love of my life!

—

Steph: Cass and I are adopting…

Bruce: Holy shit, actually???

Cass: Yes, it was a tough choice, but we want to adopt

Bruce: Do you need any help with paperwork and stuff? It’s kinda my thing. Also consider the fact that you might be too young.

Steph: Too young…?

Bruce: Yes, I mean you’re only in your 20’s, are you sure you can handle a kid?

Cass: Too young for an iguana?

—

Damian: It happened again, I have a kid.

Bruce: What do you mean AGAIN?!?

Damian: This is my second kid, duh

Bruce: Are you talking about goats?

Damian: Of course I am father

—

Tim: BRUCE YOU’RE GOING TO BE A GRANDFATHER!!!

Bruce: Tim I didn’t think I was going to have to tell you this again after the whole thing with Stephanie, but just kissing someone doesn’t get them pregnant

Tim:

Bruce: Is it a dog?

Tim: No it’s a tiger

—

Jason: I have something to tell you

Bruce(not looking up from his paperwork): Okay, what’s up?

Jason: I have a kid, I want you to meet your granddaughter

Bruce: I can’t possibly imagine what type of animal you’ve gotten, but I’d love to meet her

Jason: What the hell are you talking about?

Bruce (looking up to see an actual child): You actually have a kid????

Jason: Yeah, Roy and I thought it was time I adopted Lian

Lian: Hi Grandpa!!!

Bruce: I’m going to faint, grab me some ice will you?

[cryingscreamingpuking]

It really makes me so damn angry how many autistic/ADHD people treat the neurodivergent label as the autism+adhd label. Neurodivergent includes ANYONE who's brain doesn't work the way it's supposed to. This includes people that have learning disabilities. People with down's syndrome. People with cluster A, B and C disorders. That includes systems/people with DID, that includes schizophrenics, that includes people with PTSD. If you have a group that is labeled for neurodivergent people, you cannot act surprised or offended if people that don't have autism or ADHD but DO have other disorders join that group. Because neurodivergent is an umbrella term. And everyone under that umbrella term deserves to be able to find community in groups named with that umbrella term.

[same-picture-of-a-rock-every-day]

the rock mod is back :)

oh hey guys, long time no see :) I should check my follower count to see if i need to update my bio-

oh. oh wow. damn. Honestly, genuinely, keeping up with this blog and seeing everyone's reaction to it every day has been one of the few things keeping me going in college, especially with some personal struggles going on lately. I want to do something to thank you guys, if you have any ideas PLEASE let me know because I am NOT an idea guy (hence a blog that requires NO creativity lmao) over the next few days im also going to clean up my intro post and bio and stuff and just make this blog a little nicer (not removing anythin important!! the rock blog will still be basically the same :)

This blog also turns four years old in TWO DAYS so I will be doing something for that as well (if finals week doesn't kill me dead). I started this blog in high school during COVID, when I was depressed, unmediated, and generally struggling with life. Now im a relatively stable college student, on hrt and genuinely on my way to living my best life, and throughout it all, i've had the rock blog to remind me there are people that care if i'm there, even if its just a small thing like queuing a stock photo.

Lastly. I hate to ask this, things are tough out there for us all, but im struggling to make rent this month, and if you have a spare dollar you can send to your local trans disabled faggot rock blog, I promise it will go towards helping me survive and make more rock themed posts for ever and ever and ever. if you do decide to give me anything dm me and ill send you a picture of a rock from my personal collection. hell ill ship rocks to people if you send me enough lmaooo. my kofi is https://ko-fi.com/ sirrivix, again absolutely no pressure at all im just struggling at the moment.

[cannibalhellhound]

OP I'M CRYING I DIDN'T NOTICE

i want to say: i love you so i don't not because of the way you look at me but because you might stop because if i keep my love in my chest and not in my mouth then maybe it won't hurt so badly when it is taken away - E.L MASSEY

[kortac-sweetheart]

thinkin abt: classic “traitor” sergeant you and tf 141, except you have a different trauma response

cw: angst no comfort (yet), mentions of torture and physical harm, derealization, reader believes they deserve their torture (honestly selfship coded sorry) shout out to hedgehog’s dilemma one of my favorite dilemmas, very VERY canon divergent, no use of (y/n)

pt 2 with kortac maybe? as they slowly rehabilitate you and you learn to open up again

for as long as you can remember you’ve been an outsider. never quite fitting in with your classmates or even your “friends”. your two acquaintances (more like) in elementary school would drag you along, like a glorified pet, wherever they went. only to turn around and ignore you, chatting happily with each other as if you weren’t there.

and when you were older, you didn’t have any friends in class. always electing to sit by yourself and disturbing nothing and no one. fading into the background, like a shadow.

eventually you wind up joining the military, efficiently climbing the ranks until you land sergeant in task force 141. for the first few years of you joining, it’s much the same. that feeling of being other always lingering in the back of your mind, only amplified when observing the others in the team.

how soap easily makes gaz and price laugh, and even coaxing a chuckle out of ghost. how effortlessly they talk to each other, to the way tackling one another in a bear hug in the base halls was no big deal. almost envious at how openly they interacted with each other.

witnessing it makes you feel like you’re in school again. forcibly reverts you to the younger you that endured your so-called friends ignoring you.

but you don’t bring it up. ever. being here and fighting alongside them is already treading thin ice in your mind. already impeding upon their well established relationships. an intruder. an outsider. a stranger. a nuisance.

you linger behind them in hallways, erring from their side and sight around base. sitting far from the others during briefings, eating alone during mealtime. absent from post mission celebrations.

you keep them at arms length despite them being your teammates. it’s not their fault, it’s yours.

if i let them in, it’ll only hurt again.

but they break down your walls slowly, oh so painfully slowly. johnny now jokes besides you in the break room and during meal times, conversation is always pleasant with kyle, whilst simon looks out for you, very, very quietly. and john isn’t afraid to tell you of the good work you do on field, ruffling your hair like a proud dad.

things seem to be looking bright for you.

until they aren’t.

you fall asleep peacefully in your bed only to wake up strapped to an uncomfortable metal chair in the base’s interrogation room. a mole, unbeknownst to the rest of the team had planted evidence framing you and accusing you of betraying them. taking advantage of the thin fault line in your relationships, vulnerable and unsteady, compared to the stalwart trust they already had in each other. then, subsequently tearing that fault wide open, in order to break the team from the inside out.

your tenuous and fragile relationships finally blooming, only to be crushed under heel in a single night.

the light strains your eyes and the tight ropes dig painfully into your flesh, back aching and head throbbing as you await your fate.

three sets of eyes that only started to gaze warmly at you are now long gone. replaced with a plethora of emotions, betrayal, ire, resentment, bitterness, distrust.

you try to plead your case, that you have no idea what’s going on or what they’re talking about. you’ve never heard of any of these people in your life, nor have you ever heard of that operation at all.

but all of it is futile. you can see it clear as day in their eyes. they glare at you with such distain, it’s akin to what they gave their enemies on the field; except much much worse. this time it’s personal, someone they thought they knew.

they don’t believe you.

you realize that quickly. and after that you become borderline unresponsive. shutting down, physically, mentally, retreating into your mind, a desperate attempt to keep yourself safe from your allies-turned-tormentors.

you no longer scream your protests, all cries of agony quieted down until there wasn’t a single peep from you. although your tears never cease.

it angers them. they yell in your face, demanding answers to questions you haven’t the ability to answer. why were you being so difficult? if you’d just answer it’d be easier on you and them.

they subject you to a whole torrent of horrors. the restraints tightening and digging into your flesh, blood seeping into the rope. ghost slashes a knife up the side of your face, from your jaw to above your eyebrow bone. your eye just barely making it out unscathed because you shut it in time. then they start to rip your nails out, painfully, one by one. each time you don’t answer them, another one is torn out.

(they remember what you said offhandedly. that you didn’t like others being pushy, that you valued your autonomy highly. and what better way to break you than to rid you of it? stripping you of your nails, slashing at your muscles, tightening the ropes until you bled. anything, everything to ruin what little sovereignty you had left.)

despite being swathed deep in the recesses of your mind, you can still hear them. their voices muddied and muffled, as if underwater and you’re left unable to discern who’s words are who’s. not that it mattered anyway. the venom in their tone remained the same no matter who spoke.

“disgusting fucking traitor.”

“you’re such a pathetic piece of shit.”

“aww, cry some more.”

“should’ve never trusted you.”

“what an utterly worthless burden. only served to drag down the team.”

their words seep into your mind like poison through blood. it leaves you doubting, frantically questioning all moments you’ve shared with them. leaves you spiraling deeper and deeper into the dark abyss of your mind. your safe haven, and your cold prison.

did they always think this?

did they always hate me?

what did i do wrong?

i must’ve done something wrong to deserve this.

i deserve this.

i’m sorry.

i’m sorry.

i’m sorry.

i’m sorry.

i’m sorry.

i’m sorry.

i’m sorry.

i’m sorry.

i’m sorry.

i’m sorry.

you still remain motionless, and they scoff, looking down at you as they ash their cigarettes on your bruised skin. you don’t react. soap, frenzied, aggravated and wound up, lands a hard punch straight in your jaw. your head flying back with a sickening crunch before hanging low over your lap, face obscured.

gaz violently yanks your hair back, revealing your battered face. the lighting of the room casting long, tired shadows across it as he forces you to look at them. and you do, but not quite at them.

you don’t stare at them. you stare through them. like they aren’t there, like YOU aren’t there. they see nothing behind your eyes. it was like you were already dead. and maybe, at this point, it would’ve been better if you were.

hours blend into days and days possibly into weeks. your life has been nothing but torment and agony for who knows how long. never allowed a moment of rest or respite, being violently slapped awake if you’ve ever got lucky enough to grasp at increasingly ephemeral shut eye. time slips away into nothingness when your whole life has turned to pain.

they’re starting to grow more desperate for answers; despite everything they’ve thrown at you, you still haven’t “cracked”. and so they turn to more.. permanent methods of harm.

by the time price barges through the door, alarming everyone that you were innocent and you were falsely framed by a mole, your pinky is already severed and falling to the floor.

as if it were only a cruel nightmare, everything ceases immediately. and you pass out as you’re rushed to the base medics.

you’re awake once again, but you’re not quite all there. still safely tucked away in the depths of your mind. everyday is still a blur as your battered and beaten body tries to heal, ignoring the pity in passersby eyes’ and forced to rely on the kindness of base medics for hygiene. as if it wasn’t humiliating enough to end up in such a state.

even in your semi lucid state you still recognize them, the weight of their gait and their footfalls against the floor. always bracing for further injury whenever they draw nearer, clenched eyes, hunched posture, and a deep grimace. turned away out of fear for an impact you can’t ever guarantee is truly gone.

you silently reject their help, withdraw in on yourself to a state they’ve never seen before. you stop talking to them entirely, stop talking to everyone for that matter. whenever they try to sit next to you, you always flinch before scooting away from them, or most times you hobble away from them entirely. they never stop you. and you never look back.

(they wish you would yell at them. slap them, lash out at them, anything would be better than your numb indifference towards them now. with your anger they know for sure that you’re still in there, but, now. now it’s like a wraith is haunting the halls, more of a ghost than the man fool himself could ever hope to be.)

you return to the field as soon as you can. and everyone is surprised that your performance hasn’t suffered as much as they thought it would, considering… everything.

you’re already burdening everyone enough. if your performance were to decline then they would surely toss you aside, and everything would be for naught.

but the higher ups can see the mental toll it takes on you. to be besides them, as if this never happened. everyone can see the way they inadvertently hurt you more, can see the writing on the wall if you continue to work with them.

and so, they set up a transfer. to kortac.

you certainly have no complaints, but your ex-tormentors undoubtedly do. up in arms about the whole thing until they’re told to stand down. to follow orders.

just like they did before.

things were the same in the days leading up to the transfer. you avoid them, taking different hallways around base. never interacting more than the bare minimum, efficiently finishing missions without small talk or celebration. and always rejecting their offers of help with a faraway look and shake of your head.

and on the day of the transfer, they still try to plead for you to stay. to apologize for what cannot, and can never be undone.

you’re fed up with all of it.

clearing your throat and murmuring just loud enough for them to hear,

“forgive me if i’m speaking out of line, but who was the one to call me quote, “an utterly worthless burden?” was it lieutenant riley or sergeant mactavish? perhaps it was sergeant garrick? well… it doesn’t matter anyway. you’ll be better off without a detriment dragging down your team.”

they look heartbroken, stammering out apologies after apologies, but it all sounds so empty to you. until johnny whimpers out “god, we’re so sorry. you didn’t deserve what we did to you, not at all. we’d— we’d do anything to take it back!” he’d go on and on until you cut him off.

“didn’t deserve it? of course i deserved it, i must have done something worth punishing. otherwise… otherwise…” you were trembling, your hands painfully clutching your arms. your head bent over and face obscured from your hair, eerily similar to when you were being tortured. the sight of you so battered and broken burned into their mind.

foolishly, someone reaches out a hand towards you and you jerk back violently, as if burned. hyperventilating and quivering as you dig your painfully throbbing fingers into your arms, eyes wide like a frightened animal. the sight of them, looking at you so concerned, the sight of your missing pinky and your bloodied fingertips, it’s all too much. the room in spinning, the floor is collapsing underneath you and your head feels like it’s underwater, “don’t— don’t touch me!”

your voice feels like it doesn’t belong to you, and you can’t take it anymore. blindly rushing out the door as fast as your feet can carry you. running away from the room— away from them, they don’t move to stop you, rooted firmly in place.

they knew they fucked up immensely, but it was only then that they understood the magnitude in which they ruined you. unintentionally led you to believe that you deserved the hell they put you through, only confirming and fortifying your feelings of being an outsider.

unworthy, burdening, all of those hurtful notions you held about yourself that they had once tried to erase, back a thousand fold.

and they had no one but themselves to blame for it.

(they nearly buckled under the weight of their actions. realizing that they’d never get the chance to even attempt to atone for what they’ve done. that you’d leave forever believing that they had hated you the whole time. and that you hate them now, too.)

pt2

[licorishh]

nothing gives me a greater dopamine hit than staring at my blorbos holding hands for four hours

[sesamestreep]

I really feel like one of the best details in “A Scandal in Bohemia” that I never see people fixate on enough is that the story starts with Watson stopping in to see Holmes at Baker Street on a complete whim, because he happens to see that he’s home (and Watson is now married and living elsewhere). Like he doesn’t send word first, he’s not invited, he just shows up and surprises Holmes. Which is not that weird but then Holmes is like “oh good, I’ve got a case anyway, you might as well hang out!” which just makes it funnier when the King shows up and is like “I’d really rather speak to you alone, actually” and Watson tries to leave and Holmes is just like “anything you can say to me, you can say to my best friend John Watson, and if you ask him to leave, I would consider it a grave insult, you would be my enemy and I will not help you ever!!” And the king is like “…ok” and just moves on.

like, that is crazy behavior. Holmes is talking about how there’s probably lots of money in this case, and then almost turns away the client for…not knowing who the fuck Watson is?? He’s not even supposed to be there?? He just came to say hi?? “It is both or none”… girl, GET UP.

[ho-ho-homosxual]

idk I just kinda thought this was needed

3/2/25: Edited

25 notes - I’ll finish the ref sheet for my webtoon character Done ^-^

50 notes - I’ll finish chapter 3 & 4 of my GO fanfic Working on it ^

100 notes - I’ll try by best to finish my cosplay music video Oh shit this’ll be fun :3 ^

200 notes - I’ll work on my original murder mystery novel

400 notes - I’ll finish my several WIP animatics

500 notes - I’ll finish the first 2-3 chapters of my sanders sides au fanfic

600 notes - (New) I’ll answer any non doxing asks in a timely manner

700 notes - I’ll tell my therapist about my past suicidal thoughts

850 notes - I’ll do a self care day

1k notes (New) - Talk to my mom about cursing

2k notes (New) - I’ll try to get a date ;-;

Spam is allowed

[coraorvat]

SAVOIR FAIRE: I'd worry in Necktie's place, lieutenant can get quite creative with a piece of fabric~ I have seen several cases where people were mixing Electrochemistry and Horrific Necktie and tbf they're pretty easy to mix, but there is a slight difference: EC is your pleasure center which wants you to feel good no matter the source, while Necktie is your imaginary drinking buddy who want's you to party hard like young people do (by getting drunk/hight, sleeping with younger women and doing stupid shit for lulz).

So I'm pretty sure our *bratan* won't be Kim's biggest fan (and vice versa), EC on the other hand…

[black-is-beautiful18]

THE REGENTS ARE DOING WHAT WITH BLACK GIRLS IN OATHBOUND?!

[strangesmallbard]

having many thoughts about helena eagan. it’s so interesting that we’ve never seen helena’s inner world—who she is without anyone watching. until ep 4 last night this frustrated me, but now i think it’s a brilliant choice because wait, no. we have seen her inner world, her inner self: we know her inny. we know that devoid of context and history and pressure, there exists helly r. and she’s strident and bold and wants to get the entire fuck out of this fucked up cult. she wants to destroy the eagans from the ground up: from her own beating heart all the way up to kier eagan’s exalted, mythologized memory.

but no, that’s not quite right. because helena eagan is still a mystery to us: who is she fully alone but still encumbered by memory? who is she alone in the dark? (we do technically see her alone, but she’s still in lumon, surrounded by lumon, staring at her eagan-given face in the mirror). i think we see flashes of this helena as she awkwardly yet sincerely mimics helly r. when mark looks like he wants to kiss her in ep 2 and she stands still, staring, unsure how to proceed. when she utterly fails at improvising her innie’s wake-up moment. when she makes the snow seal for irv, breathless and excited to have a friend who will accept a gift from her. obviously this was also a ploy to make him believe she is really helly r, his friend, but there was something so vibrantly real in her eyes. this is a really, really lonely person! this is a person who’s maybe never once had a real friend even one time.

this moment also cemented my wavering belief that we’d been watching helena, not helly. when irv expresses his suspicion, we watch her face contort itself into a blank, threatening stare. helly r (and all her freeing possibilities) leeches from her body and we’re left with the blank, solid wall of helena. who is she behind that wall? i don’t think she knows either, except that she’s ashamed of who she is outside. this is the only inside thought she fully voices, cocooned in warmth with a person who thinks she’s someone else (two times over but that’s another post). her assault of mark s—and yeah that was 100% assault—was, i think, an attempt to prove she is capable of loving and being loved, like any person. she is a real animal with instincts still alive that the eagans try to mold into something neat and sterile and dead. or rather not quite truly alive.

all this to say: what the hell is going to happen when helena and helly r integrate?

[wigglebox]

It’s really not that hard to understand how Destiel is canon despite not having Dean verbally textually concretely saying “I love you” back, which is what most people who only consume media on a surface level understand.

You have a jigsaw puzzle. Let’s say there’s 327 pieces. One by one you put it together with some bright spots where you get a bunch of them in a row and some more complicated spots where it took you longer than you wanted and the picture made it difficult to match up the pieces.

After awhile, you get 326 of them in, even tho your dog almost ate the 326th piece and it’s a little chewed up but whatever. It’s passable.

But, you realize you can’t find that 327th piece. It’s somewhere — it’s gotta be somewhere. You can see the hole where it belongs. You see it’s shape in it’s empty space, you see how many curves it has and how many sticky-out bits it has to connect perfectly with the rest of the puzzle.

However that final piece is still missing.

You look up and down, come up with theories about where it could possibly be (did the dog eat it? Did the manufacturers just screw up and there was a glitch in processing? Was it your own fault you lost it and it’s somewhere super obvious?).

But despite you being unable to find it, you’ve stared at that empty space for so long it’s almost like it is already filled because the shape is so clearly outlined. It’s the final piece and even if it’s not there, the rest of the picture is, and, the empty space is so well defined that there is no QUESTION that’s where the missing piece should go.

So Destiel is canon because the rest of the puzzle was filled in through years and years of subtext, text, basic narrative structure, romantic tropes, queer coding, etc etc.

The one piece that’s still missing is Dean saying three words but you don’t know where that piece is, aka, we don’t know why he wasn’t allowed to say it back. But we know that’s what has to be said. There won’t be a refusal of reciprocation because if that was the case we would have gotten it when the show was airing because there’s no harm from executives perspectives in denying queer feelings. They’d probably prefer it.

Dean’s missing words is the one single puzzle piece that’s missing right now. And we are all still searching for it but that doesn’t mean that it’s clearly defined space isn’t already there outlining exactly what could only fit right. There.

[mirensiart]

My followers: we want more pain sharing au content 👀

Me, using headphones and not hearing a thing: ok but what if I draw a zelda & link OC

[chronicbeans]

I've heard a lot of theories about Caine's name, and while I'm not sure if anything's been confirmed by the creators (I don't use a lotta social media and stuffs so I'm not entirely in the loop if they've said things on there), but I have my own little theory. It's not really that complex or anything, but here goes nothing! This is based just on what was seen in the pilot, so I may be wrong about Caine's characterization. After all, we only have a little to go off of, so far!

So, I hear a lot of people mention the Cain and Abel story from the Bible, but I personally don't believe it is connected to that, so far.

I think it might be a reference to novocaine, an anesthetic which is most commonly used during dental procedures to numb an area of the mouth. It's not the most common drug used for dental procedures, since that's now lidocaine (which, well, also ends in CAINE), but it the most commonly known drug and used to be the most common. I mean, for one, Caine's head is literally a set of teeth with gums, and novocaine is injected into the cheeks or gums. The other reasoning I have for this is that while Jax, Pomni, Zooble (is her name is referencing something I just don't know what it is), and Gangle's names don't have much to do with their appearance, Kinger, Ragatha, and Bubble's names do. Kinger's a chess piece, Ragatha is based on a Raggedy Ann doll, and Bubble is... well, a bubble!

Another reason I have for this is a bit more metaphorical. Since Caine is and AI and the ringmaster, as well as the fact that he is clearly trying to keep the humans trapped entertained, he's essentially there to try to numb the fear, dread, and mental pain that being stuck in the Digital Circus causes. By distracting them with adventures, witty dialogue, and even going as far as to try to make a fake exit to keep them hopeful, he's basically doing what he can to just keep them sane so they won't abstract, even if he isn't the best at doing so. He can't get them out, he can't 100% for sure keep them from going insane, but he can provide mind numbing distractions and games to give them something... possibly with the hopes that someone outside the program may, one day, get them out. It's a bit like how novocaine can't *fix* the problem you're going to the dentist for. That's the dentist's job, not the anesthesia's. The novocaine can only numb you up while they do so.

EDIT/ADDITIONS: Another thing is that the reason why most modern dentists don't use novocaine is because, even though it is a minority of patients, some people have severe allergic reactions to novocaine. It is less likely to have a reaction to lidocaine, which is why most modern dentists use that, or other anesthetics, instead. This could relate to how Caine WANTS to help the people trapped, but due to his own obliviousness and habit for mischief, he more often tends to cause distress instead of joy or fun. He has every intention to help them, be it bringing joy or simply distracting them, but there is a flaw that is causing problems with him being successful at it.

[apneusance]

source

[letsboldlygomotherfuckers]

this time two years ago I was getting fired without reason, this time last year I was quitting my job that had tanked my mental health harder than I've ever experienced today my coworkers were surprised I've only been here a year because "it feels like you've been here forever' and my manager told me she wished she had more people like me to work with, perhaps I am in a good place finally