#cw: intrusive thoughts

[buntaindreemurr]

i honestly don't think most people know how much ocd really really REALLY FUCKING SUCKS. it is fucking AWFUL to have oh my GOD

when i was like 10 or something i had a fuckin panic attack in my mom's car on the way to guitar lessons because i randomly thought "WHAT IF I JUST GRABBED THE STICK SHIFT AND FORCED THE CAR INTO REVERSE KILLING EVERYONE INSTANTLY. IT WOULD BE SO EASY TO DO" and oh my fucking god it's. it's TORTUROUS

i am once again asking people i know to do actual research on OCD and what it is b/c i saw someone equating POCD to actual predatory shit recently and i think im going to break out of my enclosure . OCD is not about “subconscious desires” it’s about fear. fears, aversions and repulsions, both subconscious and conscious. OCD forces you to obsess over things that make you anxious, scared, uncomfortable, or disgusted. possibilities (about yourself, your future, your loved ones and their futures, etc) that would give you nightmares if you considered them for too long.  literally the second you start thinking OCD may be about “subconscious desires” you have lost. you made an immediate left turn when you were supposed to make a right and now you’re on a completely different road. this applies to all forms of OCD by the way, even the most “disgusting”, taboo or “disturbing”. whichever form of OCD you’re thinking may be an exception to this rule, is not an exception. b/c there is none

[zubzooks]

use carefully.

[optimistictragedykid]

Trigger warning for intrusive thoughts it aint explicit but yk

Another day, another slay. And by slay i mean frantically googling a definition because my thoughts are convincing me im a terrible person who deserves nothing but suffering for myself

[provinzpoet]

On Engagement Bait

Whenever you see it, that's an additional five years. All currently active negative effects are dispelled.

A lil' essay.

I hate engagement bait - with a passion.

"Reblog if you care" "Reblog to mark your blog safe for [marginalized group X]" "Reblog or your mom dies in her sleep tonight."

"Reblog, or else."

I know most of these are made in jest. Harmless fun, right? But to me, "harmless fun" doesn’t excuse poor taste. Especially when it veers into manipulation.

So, here's a little something below the cut. If you're here for the poetry, you're free to scroll. If you're here for the ramblings, keep reading.

Either way, have another look at the duck. That's another 5 years on the house. Download it, look at it whenever - stack that immunity to last a lifetime. No engagement bait shall ever touch you again.

That little ducky up there was born in response to a post about you not having any original thought for the next five years.... unless you reblog.

It was meant as silent defiance, as a soft out. Then @bred-is-a-dumb-name reblogged my little ducky. With the following tags:

First and foremost: Thank you for speaking so clearly. Your tags were the push I needed to sit down and write this.

I. The Premise

Engagement bait plays with a simple human desire. Recognition. People want to be seen, they want to be recognized. Above all, they want to be validated.

From the early days of social media 'likes' equaled validation.

On tumblr, the currency of choice is reblogs. Reblogging equips a post with wings, allowing it to touch down on your own blog, be exposed to your own audience. The growth potential here is exponential, as reblogs don't just live tucked away in your profile, but are the groundwork of the tumblr algorithm on what content to show to its userbase.

My Thesis: You are responsible for the content you pass along to your mutuals. Even if you didn’t create it. Even if you reblogged it "ironically."

From the creator’s side, engagement bait is often a way to chase notes - a hit of serotonin from the numbers ticking up. And I get that. I love seeing my posts resonate too - reading your tags, your comments, the ways my words find you.

But I would never boost engagement through pain, coercion, or bad vibes in general. And I think no one should.

II. The Danger

Here's the catch: reblogging engagement bait feeds a manipulative feedback-loop.

But, at the same time, Let me be clear: Not all engagement bait is created equal.

Baity posts like "reblog to show your moots you appreciate them" (you know who you are! And I appreciate you too! c: ) are fine. Sure, they're meant to play the algorithm and the very human rationale that 'external validation is more valuable than internal validation' . basically: "If I reblog this post it'll mean more than if I just tell my moot they mean a lot to me".

At best, they're a reminder to be kind.

But - and this is the important part - there is also a different kind. Engagement bait like "Reblog or your mother will die tonight", "Reblog or no more creativity for 5 years".

These aren't funny to everyone. To some, they're not even neutral.

They're cruel. They are emotional abuse hidden under the guise of a 'funny context'. Of the absurdity of a duck holding that power.

Let's be real. It's not holding that power. And you'll reblog it ironically with funny tags in the vein of 'oh, better be sure, mighty duck'. Unless you don't.

Because guess what? It IS holding that power.

To those with OCD. To those in intrusive thought loops. To those with deeply rooted fear of loss. To the neurodivergent. Maybe even to you? To those, these posts can be triggers.

III. The Mechanics of Harm

To people like that, the harmless meme becomes a source of real-world stress.

It's toying with - to me - deeply problematic, psychological concepts:

Compulsion and Intrusive Thoughts For someone with intrusive thought patterns, seeing a post that ties inaction to harm can spark a cycle that’s hard to break. It’s not a meme - it’s a trigger.

Guilt-Tripping and Moral Coercion There’s a quiet cruelty to coercion wrapped in kindness. ‘Only good people will reblog’ is just a digital form of social blackmail.

False Urgency & Manufactured Stakes The moment a post tells you "do this now, or else" - it's bypassing your agency. It swaps thought for panic.

Neurodivergent Sensitivity to Harm Avoidance This isn’t about superstition. It’s about the fear of what happens if we don’t play along. That fear is real. Many neurodivergent folks have built entire internal systems around minimizing perceived danger. These posts poke at that. They exploit it.

The Illusion of Safety through Compliance Some users - especially those who’ve seen harm happen "coincidentally" after ignoring a chain post - develop ritualized engagement. It becomes a way to feel in control, even when logic says otherwise. Engagement bait can reignite old fears tied to punishment, loss, or abandonment. And I get it. These posts feel silly. But they sit in the mind like a splinter.

Yes, it's uncomfortable having it called out like this - and it should be. It's meant to be.

IV. Walk a mile in their shoes

I’m not writing this from a pulpit.

I’ve wrestled with compulsive thoughts and weird little rituals my whole life. So when I say this stuff can hurt, it’s not theoretical. It’s personal.

And I’m not here to scold. I’m just inviting you to zoom out. To consider that your reblog might have more impact than you intended.

V. Being Responsible

I try to bear responsibility for what I put out here. Tumblr is full of vulnerable, brilliant, open people. The way we talk to each other matters.

Don't get me wrong, sharing a joke is fun - But if you knew a joke would hurt your friend, you'd probably hold it back. The same logic applies here.

I'm not here to shame anyone - unless you’re making this kind of post in bad faith. If you’re knowingly feeding on people’s fears for notes? That’s not a joke. That’s cruelty. That, to me, is despicable.

All I wanted was to offer this, another point of view. And just maybe, if you’ve ever reblogged something like that without thinking, this helped you see it through a different lens.

Be nice to each other. Look out for each other.

We're all navigating this life for the first time, let's not make it any harder than it needs to be, okay?

Yours truly,

Poe

Just silently accept. The donkey will know.

[oobbbear]

wip

[sleepis4theweak]

A couple days ago I zoned out and only zoned back in when I realized I was seconds away from biting my own finger off like a carrot... idk why I did that but I thought it fit Raph lmao <3

[arcaneacolyte]

An excerpt—because I did start writing it a while ago—to hwhet your hwhistle and maybe to motivate me to write more: CW: very brief mention of Daddy Kink, some angst and intrusive thoughts from Dew

Dew actively growls now, his tail lashing behind him. "Because I couldn't get the thought of you out of my head! There! Is that what you wanted to hear?! That you Dommed me so good as a Soft Daddy that I couldn't wrap my head around asking you again because you were treating me as if it hadn't happened! As if we could just pretend and go back to how we were before!"

Satan damn him, damn Aether for making him feel this way, so out of control. The Fire Ghoul can feel his element crackling at his fingertips. One iota of acquiescence and the flame will form and burn the Ghoul in front of him. A horrible intrusive though rages through his mind for half a second of letting Aether burn to a crisp, consumed by Dew's anger so he can't keep fucking around with Dew's head and emotions anymore.

The sheer shock of that image knocks a lot of the wind out of his sails, as does the rather pained look on Aether's face, as if he feels sorry for Dew. Normally that would send him right into another rage, but he finds the energy of his element retreating back to his core, and he finishes his rant rather lamely, with a soft—"How could I ever go back to how we were before after that?"

It hangs in the air for what feels like hours, the heaviness of the declaration clinging to the space around them as well as the lack of space between them.

Aw man none of you are gonna be ready for the sequel to my Dewther Daddy fic "Soft" once this goddamn burnout and executive dysfunction stops trying to bury my like it's a fucking WWE Buried Alive match out here.

[ohitslen]

Intrusive thoughts

[evilyn-is-gay]

Shitass hallucination vent art

CW: BUGS INSIDE SKIN, THEMES OF COTARDS DELUSION, THEMES OF DYING, DELUSIONAL PARASITOSIS

Why am I a Will wood reference sometimes 💔

[bpderanged]

I want to drown myself in acid and dissolve into nothingness.

[kneecapsbelong2me]

Hello! Ok so you don't have to do this if you don't want to but I thought it'd be really cute if you did a oneshot where Natasha and Wanda (or it could be Natasha and Maria no preference) help a fellow Avenger (reader) who has ocd (like intrusive thoughts and having to squeeze eyes shut hard and doing things in a certain rhythm, not cleaning ocd). And the reader stopped taking her meds. Could you do fem reader please if you're comfortable! Thank you! Much love! xoxo 🧡

Loud

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Natasha Romanoff x OCD!fem!Reader (ambiguous relationship)

Summary: when you stop taking your meds, your intrusive thoughts return with a vengeance. Natasha and Wanda notice.

Word Count: ~800

Content Warnings: violent intrusive thoughts (murder, blood), OCD

A/N: sorry this took so long, anon! I don't have OCD, but I have dealt with intrusive thoughts so I tried my best.

Translations: зайчик: bunny; рыбка: little fish; солнышко: sunshine

———————————————————————

Wanda was the first to notice something was wrong. Your thoughts sounded like screamed gibberish instead of their typical cadence and anxiety radiated from you in waves as if it was flowing from your pores.

She didn’t know what was happening, and it scared her. Unsure of what to do, she confided in Nat.

“I’m worried about her, Tasha. Her thoughts have been so loud and messy, and I don’t know what to do. Just being near her makes me start feeling antsy.”

Natasha had also clocked your unrest. For the past month, the number of pills in the bottle on your dresser had remained constant, and Natasha was willing to bet that had something to do with the changes in your behavior.

“I’m concerned too, Wanda. Let’s talk to her the next time we see her, okay?”

“Okay,” Wanda smiled slightly. “Thank you for helping me with this.”

“Of course, зайчик, I want to make sure our girl is okay.”

They waited, but you didn’t come out of your room for days. Finally, at the 72 hour mark, Natasha and Wanda made their way to your room. They were going to help you, and there was nothing you could do to stop them.

You couldn’t pinpoint when your thoughts had gotten bad again. Maybe it had started after you stopped taking your meds, but they had made you feel different.

What if you just kill them all. It wouldn’t be hard.

You squeezed your eyes shut as if that would stop the thoughts, rocking back and forth. Three counts forward, three counts back. You tapped your fingers on your leg. Ring, middle, pointer. Ring, middle pointer.

Images flashed in your mind. Your hand wrapped around Natasha’s throat. Blood dripping from the knife you drove into Steve’s heart.

On your next rock backwards, you accidentally hit your head on the wall as you tried to shake yourself free. Pain reverberated through your skull, and you couldn’t help but think you deserved it.

And those were just the thoughts that escaped to your consciousness. There were so many more beneath the surface, trying to claw their way and pierce through your brain.

You shivered, your skin crawling as more thoughts popped into your mind. Your rocking became more frantic as your breaths got shallower and shallower.

The click of your bedroom door unlocking tugged your mind back into your body. You squeezed your eyes tighter, and your finger tapping sped up.

“Рыбка?” Natasha’s voice filtered in like sunlight through a stained-glass window, muddled but warm.

“Солнышко,” Wanda’s voice was much clearer. She was speaking directly into your head, you realized. “Your thoughts are so loud.”

Oh no. Wanda was going to find out how horrible your thoughts were. Terror gripped you as you realized what she would see. There was no way she’d ever look at you the same way again.

“Can you take a deep breath for me?” Wanda smiled softly. She had crouched down, and you could sense how badly she wanted to reach out to touch you.

You shook your head, too caught up in your hyperventilation.

Natasha sat on the floor next to you, careful not to touch you or get in the way of your rocking. “Try breathing out for longer than you breathe in,” she murmured. You did as she said, some of the terror leaving you. “You’re safe. Everyone is safe.”

You tried to focus on her words, blocking out everything else until your senses were filled with Natasha and Wanda.

“These thoughts do not make you a bad person, солнышко. The fact that they scare you proves that you’re a good person,” Wanda’s voice washed over you like a wave of calm.

Your breathing evened out a little more, your fingers tapping slower. Ring. Middle. Pointer. Fighting every muscle in your body, you forced your eyes open to look at them.

Guilt wracked your body as you took in their concerned faces. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

Natasha spoke gently, but firmly. “Hey, look at me. Please?”

You did as she asked, having to slow your rocking to avoid getting dizzy.

“Is it okay if I touch you right now?”

You nodded, and Natasha pressed her shoulder into yours. The contact was soothing. She was warm against you. Warm and alive.

“Would it help if we just talk for a while?” Wanda sat and leaned into your other side.

You nodded again, words unformed on your tongue.

“Okay. Let me tell you what Steve did the other day.”

Natasha launched into a story and you focused all your energy on her words. You could feel Wanda pushing your anxieties down, and for the first time since you’d stopped your meds, you felt calm.

You laid your head on Wanda’s shoulder. She hummed softly and carded her fingers through your hair. Your eyes fluttered shut, but this time they rested.

You knew they would want to talk about this at some point, but for now you were content to sit in between them and rest.

[loafbud]

DREAMWORLD DELUXE 3000 ✨

[tbalderdash-art-blog]

What if him constantly messaging Batman was a compulsion because he's terrified that nobody cares about him, he's reminding Batman because maybe he's terrified he's so insignificant that Batman forgets there are even riddles to do.

I've got a sheep "cushion" from ASDA, part of a Stacey Solomon collection so I call it Stacey.

[don't tag as ship! He is aromantic and has OCD!]

[dinoserious]

im sure thats fine

[loganslowdown4]

❝We don’t have time to muck about!❞

The next recipe is

‘Logan’s ‘Get Ready To ‘Clean Eating’ (Almost) Instant Oatmeal’ 🥣

Get ready to be a dang health king lol

Fun fact! I used blackberries because Logan’s Berry jam is a blackberry pomegranate mix! 💙🖤

[hydrus101]

I can never decide if post-canon Arthur avoids meat in order to tamp down memories of Faust and the pits, because the act itself repulses him that strongly; or, if he avoids it out of guilt, because he liked it just a little bit too much.