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RB IF YOU AGREE

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Turn sound on for the full unreality experience (probs not the best for y’all with anxiety and/or derealisation disorders)

N I G H T M A R E S

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for my fellow psychotics who struggle with thinking someone is in their house, a method I’ve found that really works are these guys:

i put them on my front door and anytime it opens they ring. that way if i think someone has broken in or i see someone who isn’t there i can think back to if the bells have rung, and if they haven’t i can assure myself it’s not real. obviously it’s not fool proof, like if you are prone to auditory hallucinations, but it has really helped me calm down in time to avoid major psychotic breaks. it’s a real lifesaver

nonpsychotics encouraged to rb

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i call this the headcanon chart. see my vision

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in nimona we trust

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SAVE THE SHARKS

WATCH OUT FOR THE DOLPHINS

Shark finning infographic by ripetungi.

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The saga continues

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being poor is traumatic. even if you’re not homeless or starving. never being able to get anything nice for yourself, never being able to go out to eat without feeling guilty, never being able to do anything fun that isn’t free, making you housebound in bad weather because you can’t afford to go to a cafe or a movie. it takes a toll. being poor under capitalism makes your life a waking nightmare. this post must be reblogged by everyone.

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We have our victor!

Congratulations, Nimona, winner of the first annual tumblr fandom march madness poll, 2024!

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Knowing that trans women of color started the movement in the united states and were literally immediately erased and excluded from what they started is the most deeply jading knowledge.

It is the original sin of the so-called queer community and it damns it from the cradle.

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Reblog If Your Blog Is Safe For

Transgender people

Homosexual people

Bisexual people

Genderfluid people

Asexual people

Pansexual people

Autosexual people

Demisexual people

Bigender people

Agender people

Polysexual people

Straight people

Cisgender people

Straight allies of the lgbtqpiad community

ANYONE

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(◡‿◡✿)

(ʘ‿ʘ✿) “what you say ‘bout me”

(ʘ‿ʘ)ノ✿ “hold my flower”

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The A stands for “Ayo put your clothes back on!! Anyways did you know that….”

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"womanizer" is one of those words that should mean something other than what it does.

example "i'm a womanizer. i see a guy and i womanize him."

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Trolls fic teaser from my notes app??? (post BroZone reunion, disabled floyd, multi-pov)

TW!!! extreme whump, self-harm, intrusive thoughts, body shaming, implied eating disorder/body dysmorphia

Branch was worried.

Worry was no stranger to the faded blue troll, but this wasn’t the usual anxiety present in his day-to-day life. He’d double and triple checked the village’s defence systems, went through his ration supply for expired items, and even stole a glance at Poppy’s calendar to make sure he wasn’t forgetting some ultra mega important holiday (although there are so many). Branch wasn’t worried about a what, he was worried about a who.

Three days after the BroZone Reunion concert, Floyd started acting weird. Sure, a lot has changed in 20 years; Branch has no right to assume he knows what Floyd’s ‘normal’ is. Yet, there was someone that felt wrong about the pink-haired brother’s demeanour compared to the last few days. The usual softness of his eyes was replaced by a cold exhaustion, and he would suppress a grimace every time he sat, or stretched, or  did…anything, really. 

Branch wasn’t the best with words — that Lady Glittersparkles incident was an act of God. Whenever it came down to voicing his own feelings and concerns, his vocal chords always seemed to tighten up while his brain turns to goo. So it’s no surprise that Floyd’s response to Branch’s worrying wasn’t the warmest…

~~~

Floyd was fucking pissed.

He didn’t know who or what he was mad at. Maybe his mind, for waking him (and everyone else) up from his night terrors; or his captors, for being the ones who inflicted that kind of trauma; or his body, for failing him and constantly aching.

Or he could have be mad at himself for blowing up at Branch. Sweet baby Branch, who isn’t much  of a baby anymore. Branch, who always wanted to help. Branch, who Floyd left in favour of a stupid solo career-

He slammed his head against his knees, the sharp pain welcomed. This, this was the only hurt he was able to control. The short intensity of it was so soothingly different to the constant dull ache that consumed his entire being. 

More.

Shame tugged at Floyd’s gut. This isn’t how you solve problems, logically he knew that. But the idea was persistent, worming its way throughout his mind.

More

More

More

More

MOREMOREMOREMOREMORE-

“FLOYD SNAP OUT OF IT!!”

[insert Bruce & Clay’s pov here, I don’t have enough energy right now]

Reality came rushing back. He could feel himself in a familiar warm embrace. He’s still on the floor of his room, but his arms and torso were being restrained. There’s blood on the floor. His blood.

Blue eyes stared concernedly into his own. Floyd’s eyes flickered up to see shocking green hair — Clay’s hair. 

But if Clay’s looking at him, then who?…

“Hey buddy, you back with us yet?” Asked SpBruce, his comforting baritone caused Floyd’s muscles to unclench, leaning into the feeling of safety his older brother brought.

Still a little dazed, he tried to ask what happened, but his throat felt like he swallowed a thousand tiny knives, his head pounded violently, and overall he felt like he’d been run over by a catterbus. He started to feel warm, yet all of his (admittedly weak) attempts to push off the older man were rendered useless. 

Bruce tightened his hold, “Nope, I’m not letting go until I know you’re not a danger to yourself.”

“Yeah bro, it was scary seeing you hurt yourself like that,” Clay chimed in, wringing his hands together while he stared at the crimson that stained the previously green rug. 

Shame rushed through Floyd’s body and his chest tightened. Why the hell did he do that?? Now his brothers are worried, and it’s all his fault. Stupid stupid stupid!! You just can’t have a single good thing without ruining it for yourself, huh?

“Clay, go get the first aid kit?” Bruce asked softly, breaking Floyd out of his spiral. But with Clay out of the way, all the purple haired troll’s attention was on the younger brother. “Floyd…what happened? I’m not going to be mad, I just need to know so I- so we can help you.”

Floyd refused to make look into his brother’s eyes. He assumed something like care or love were in those eyes, but he dare not look. There was still that mistrusting part of him, the one that’s controlled his life decisions for the past 20 years, that whispered in his ear that the only emotions held in Bruce’s eyes were ones of disgust and worst of all — pity. 

So, he did what he does best. He tried to push the bigger troll away. 

“Floyd I’m not gonna let go-“

“Fuck. OFF!!” Floyd snarled, struggling against his well-meaning captor. 

“Just go away back to your perfect fucking life!!”

Shove

“It’s not like you ever gave a damn about any of us before!!”

Shove

“All you ever cared about were girls and your looks!!”

Shove

“Well you fell off old man!! You fat fucking bitch!!!”

Floyd tipped over, almost falling flat on his face. He turned to look at Bruce’s face, and was met with that expression: Disgust. Pity.

Bruce’s voice wavered, “I know you’re hurting right now, and I’m trying to keep that in mind. But if you want to push me away, then wish granted. Talk to me later when you figure this shit out; I need to be alone for a while.”

As he watched his brother walk away, he knew that he went too far. He knew it as soon as those idiotic, cruel words left his lips. But somehow he couldn’t find the will to apologise. This is what he wanted, right? 

Bruce stopped at the doorway, looking back just enough to make the heartbroken expression on his face visible.

“I love you, little bro. See ya around.”

And that was when Floyd broke.

#dw trolls #my fic #ao3 #ao3 fanfic #dw trolls fic #disabled floyd trolls #dreamworks trolls #floyd trolls #brozone #trolls angst #trolls hurt no comfort #ollie originals

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I'm trying to prove a point to my brain: Reblog if you think fanfiction does not need sex to be good.

There is a trend I’ve noticed that smut fics tend to be much more popular than anything else and honestly I just want to have something to look at to remind myself and that writing doesn’t have to have sex to be worth putting out into the community.

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oh to finish a fanfiction