#They are healing my trauma

[dat-lil-shark]

so I’ve just seen you mini sparkling bulkhead and we know that wheeljack and bulkhead are basically brothers so what would the duo wreckers look like as sparklings? (OMG BULKHEAD IS SO CUTE I HAVENT SEEN SPARKLING BULK EVER)

Ask and you shall receive mate!

(I feel like their relationship as Sparklings would not be that different from how they are now. Except any brain cells in anything they do are gone.)

(THIS IS NOT A SHIP)

And a character design sheet of Sparkling Wheeljack:

Hamster and pigeon in my option.

Part 1

Part 2

[michaelinprogress]

I’ve seen a few people talk about the importance of the axe, but I wanted to put my take on it out there too.

Lisa watched her mom get axe murdered, and then her life was uprooted. She had nobody there for her (except taffy but she was misguided). And this person comes along, one who knows her better than anyone, and uses an axe to kill someone right in front of her.

Only this time, the axe is used to protect her. Something that destroyed her entire life is now being wielded by the one person she’s beginning to trust and feel seen and heard by.

And I don’t think it’s wrong for her to be thrilled and morbidly infatuated by this!!! Reclaiming and healing from trauma isn’t always pretty like everyone wants it to be, especially for young women and girls.

The axe becomes something to protect her and get revenge on those who hurt her. People who were supposed to be good to her, that she THOUGHT were good to her, but betrayed her.

The axe is something that she now wields.

She gets to reclaim it. She gets to trust someone again. She gets to feel loved, seen, and heard.

This movie is about reclaiming trauma as much as it is about a zombie love story!!!

[coldzonkprofessorturtle]

The art of the sleeping sapphic

[veryluckyclovers]

[loveelizabeths]

love elizabeth s.

[luxthestrange]

G.I Incorrect Quotes#114 Wonderful Boy~

Y/n: who's that wonderful boy?~

Wanderer walks in with the most Annoyed scowl holding...a tuckered out mini durin who was introduced to sugar...

Wanderer: what are you looking at?

Y/n: Could he be any cuter!~

Mini*Sucking on wanderer sleeve sleeping giggles*Hat...guy...issh cutest...friend...

Wanderer*Grumbles and rolls eyes...blushing*...Tsk

[edorazzi]

Page 23 of my Miraculous Mentor AU comic A Matter of Trust! In which Adrien is more interested in his drink than Felix's "villain arc", and back in 1999 baby Felix is having a tough time! 😔🩹

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[daughter-of-lethe]

🎨: castleinthesky

It feels so real, this Nessian piece is my absolute favourite...

I love to picture them like this, their happy ending 🧡

[traumasurvivors]

I know you’re tired. I know sometimes it feels like you’re going backwards. I know it’s exhausting.

It’s okay if you need to rest. It’s okay if you need to take a break from your healing journey. It’s okay to just stop for a bit.

Just please don’t give up. You’re going to get through this.

[healing-is-cool]

You are not what happened to you. You didn't deserve to go through all that. You deserved to be loved, to feel safe, to be safe. You deserved kindness. Patience. You deserved better.

[judgedarts]

please watch yugioh zexal

[aroaceleovaldez]

we should make Nico more fucked up, actually. enough woobifying him. that boy should be covered in blood and viscera

[emberz7]

sixbones (they are rotting together and forever in their “get along” shirt.)

[girltalkcollectives]

The Dark Side of ‘Boys Will Be Boys’

I still remember sitting in the principal’s office, knees scraped and uniform dirty, trying not to cry while explaining why I pushed Tommy back on the playground. For weeks, he’d been pulling my hair, chasing me during recess, and ruining my art projects. That day, he’d grabbed my favorite hair ribbon and thrown it in a puddle.

The principal’s response? A warm smile and those words I’ll never forget: “Oh sweetie, he’s only mean because he likes you! Boys don’t know how to show their feelings at this age.”

I was six. That was my first lesson that my discomfort was less important than a boy’s feelings.

And before anyone jumps in with “boys will be boys” or “it’s not that serious” — let me tell you how that lesson played out over the years.

By fourth grade, I stopped telling teachers when boys would snap my bra strap because I was tired of hearing “that means they think you’re pretty!” I learned to be flattered by harassment before I even knew what harassment was.

In middle school, when Jake wouldn’t stop following me between classes and grabbing my backpack, my own mom said, “He probably just doesn’t know how to tell you he has a crush!” So I stopped mentioning it, even when it escalated to him “accidentally” running into me at my locker every day.

“But they’re just boys!” people say. “Stop making everything so serious!”

Okay, let’s talk about how “just boys” grow up.

That same Jake who learned his harassment was “just showing affection”? By high school, he was the guy who wouldn’t take no for an answer at parties. But hey, he “just liked me,” right?

Tommy from first grade? Last I heard, he had multiple harassment complaints at his college. But I bet someone’s still saying “boys will be boys!”

And me? I spent years unlearning the idea that love is supposed to hurt. Years figuring out that someone making me uncomfortable isn’t a compliment. Years understanding that my instincts were right all along — I wasn’t being “too sensitive,” he wasn’t being “sweet,” it wasn’t “just a crush.”

To everyone saying “it’s not that deep” or “stop overthinking” — you’re part of the problem. Because while you’re dismissing these “little” incidents, girls are learning lessons that follow them into adulthood:

When my first boyfriend threw my phone because he was “passionate?” I heard: “He’s only mean because he likes you!”

When my college classmate wouldn’t stop asking me out after ten nos? I remembered: “He just doesn’t know how to show his feelings!”

These aren’t separate issues. They’re the same lesson playing out over years.

We’re teaching girls that love looks like discomfort.

That harassment means attraction.

That their boundaries matter less than boys’ feelings.

That being hurt means being loved.

And to those saying “not all boys are like that” — you’re missing the point. It’s not about all boys. It’s about what we teach ALL girls about what they should accept.

Because that six-year-old girl with scraped knees grew up to be a woman who had to relearn what love actually looks like. Who had to realize that real love doesn’t pull your hair, push you down, or make you cry.

So no, it’s not “just boys being boys.”

It’s not “making a big deal out of nothing.”

It’s not “too serious.”

It’s the first chapter in a book too many girls have to unwrite later.

And maybe if we stopped telling little girls that harassment means love, we’d have fewer women trying to convince themselves that abuse means passion.

[nillia]

Trust

[cherry-pop-elf]

Night terrors

Anya x Reader

Can be read as platonic because we all want to take care of her like we wish someone would for us

AN: As a victim of sexual assault I feel it is important to have a realistic fluff story about the aftermath of it. How it affects the person after it’s been done and how the trauma lingers. How it’s so very important for the person to have a support network. YOU will be her support network. Thank you

Also not to get political but god women in the USA are experiencing a massive increase of assaults so call this projection, or call this training for the inevitable

SUM: Despite surviving that Tulpar adventure, despite all the good karma thrown back at you all, there are just too many many scars to truly recover from

Warnings: Past sexual assault, nightmares, PTSD, whump, abortion, paranoia, it’s gonna be a stressful read, there will be fluff don’t worry, paranoia, inspired/based on my own experiences

“STOP-!”

Anya was screaming in her sleep again.

Woke you up pretty quickly, as you were sharing a bed with her. She was rather scared to sleep alone. Afraid that someone will just break in and take advantage of her. That somehow Jimmy, who long since was dead, will break in again.

“Anya-! Anya wake up! It’s me! Anya-!” You would shake her and try to get her to wake up. To get her out of that terrifying cloud of memories. Her poor face was pale and full of sweat, and she was scared awake by you shaking her. For a fleeting moment she thought it was Jimmy.

As she gave another cry, you reached over and turned on the bedside tables lamp.

She saw your face, and finally took a breathe.

You two weren’t on the Tulpar anymore. Jimmy wasn’t going to hurt either of you ever again. Swansea was home with his wife. Daisuke was home with his mother and father. And she was here with you.

She was alive.

“I….Im sorry-“ Anya sniffled, as you just pulled her into your arms. Gentle with combing your fingers through her hair. Just gentle reminders to not be sorry. To not be sorry for being justified with her fear.

“He won’t ever get you again. I promise.” You would remind her, but she would still tremble.

“Can we check the locks again?” She would ask you, and you would nod. Often times this was the case. No matter how many times she would ask you that question you never got annoyed. It’s good to check the locks anyway. Gotta stay safe after all.

You would both climb out of bed, put on your robes, and go walking around the home. One of your hands was left to be held by Anya’s, as the other would be used to check the locks on everything. From the multiple at front door, from each window, to that of the back door. Each one checked, as Anya would hug at you close.

Was a very nice home, you had to admit. After having rescue finally called, and being saved, the media went nuts. Especially on the fact Curly was still alive. Gave Anya the much needed support to show she was very worthy of a position as a proper doctor. That also meant she got herself quite the hefty salary. Also helps that she now had partial royalties to the book she helped write about the adventure on the ship.

“Every lock is secure.” You explained, as she gave still an anxious look.

“Let’s check each room, and closet. Yeah?” That made her quickly nod.

Now you two were roaming the entire house now. Checking under furniture, in closets, all the nine yards. No stone was left un-turned. You would do it a million times for her. She deserved to have some kind of relief from it all.

“There we go. No Jimmy.” You would give her a hug, and she hugged you back. Still shaken, but at least she was breathing more steady.

The two of you would return to the bedroom, where she did her routine. Checking under her pillow for her sheathed knife, the bedside for her baseball bat, the drawer for her gun, and to take an extra pill to help with the anxiety burst she was having. Her routine.

She would try and lay down, only to dart her head towards the bedroom door. Eyes wide with raw and pure fear.

“I swear I heard him at the door. I swear I did. He said my name he said my name-“ She whimpered, as you would get up. You opened the door, looked around the hallway, and returned.

“Don’t worry Anya. I didn’t hear a single thing.” You reassured, as you would lock the bedroom door for her. Along with putting a chair under the door handle. Even went as far as to double check the bedroom windows, and closed the curtains.

“I’m so sorry-“ She would begin again, as her eyes watered. She felt like such a burden. To have all this fear and paranoia. To the point she couldn’t feel safe when left alone. You couldn’t blame her though. The wounds were still so horribly fresh. Not to mention sometimes PTSD can kick in so many years later. You’ll take the morbid comfort in having it kick in now where you all can handle it now and prepare for the future than suddenly out of nowhere in God knows how long.

It is what it is.

She wasn’t the only one traumatized after all, and she shouldn’t need to apologize for justified fear.

You would pull her back into your arms, and you both laid down. You would turn on the white noise machine for her, to help block the paranoid sounds of voices and scratches from the doors, and would just talk with her. Talk until her medication kicked in to help her sleep.

Didn’t matter what it was. It was just noise to keep her mind distracted.

You wondered how the rest of the crew was doing. How they were dealing with it.

They all had family, so maybe they were doing well. Really should meet up again soon. Can’t be blamed life is so busy.

Curly was back living with his parents and siblings, which they welcomed with open arms. Even his friends before the crew were willing to all share a space to help.

Swansea had his wife and even his kids. Sure he says he’s too old to be traumatized but he keeps checking on his kids way more often now. That’s for sure.

God knows when poor Daisuke’s PTSD will kick in. He may be acting fine now but it’s gonna be a ticking time bomb. It’ll come at him sooner or later. For now his parents were feeling like monsters for pressuring him into that intern ship. He never blamed them, of course. He is even still working under a mentorship with Swansea even. Guess not everything was negative.

Then there was you and Anya. She was the most traumatized of all. There was even the trauma of an abortion. There’s still so many emotions with that as well, but you held her hand through it. Even as far as to move in with her to help. You two had always been very close. Even before joining the crew. You two were always tagged together. Even nicked named her assistant to a point.

You’ll stick with her through the ends of the earth.

“Wanna go visit Curly in the morning? It’ll be Saturday. Maybe we can even invite Swansea and Daisuke.” You offered. Just something positive to look forward to. Something worth waiting for.

“That would be nice.” She muttered, as her own paranoias exhaustion was kicking in. Too tired to even be afraid. Often times how it ends. She gets herself so worked up it ends up being the very same thing that makes her fall back asleep.

“Yeah. We can check out his new prosthetics. Daisuke said he even bought stickers specifically for them.” That had Anya smile. That sweet smile that was hard to come by right now. One that was filled with comfort. Comfort of such an innocent and sweet thought.

“Swansea says he’s also going to attach his own upgrades to it. Not sure how that will work, or what the hell he’s planning, but not gonna lie I need to see if he gives him rocket boosters.”

That got a little laugh from her. The both of you imagining poor Captain Curly flying around in the sky, as Daisuke runs around with some trampoline to try and catch him on.

Just something silly to cut through it all.

Seemed to work, as you could feel her breathing easier now. Her breath not so intense. Was far more steady, and you could tell she fell back asleep. You were thankful for it. Not because she was annoying you. No. Never. But because she needed her rest. She deserves it. She already is working long hours at the hospital, which you bet is because she is trying to avoid being isolated and alone at all cost maybe even reduce sleeping to, so she needed proper sleep more than ever.

And you’ll do your best for her. To help her with it all. You were her little assistant. You’ll do what an assistant does best. Make sure your boss is able to tackle projects easier.

And this project was healing. A project that won’t ever end, will have ups and downs, and be taxing. Over time out the ass and no vacations.

And you know what you say to that?

Bring it.

Thank you so much for reading. This was a more vulnerable piece because Anya really reminded me so much of myself. How I’m suppose to take care of everyone else, while my traumatic abuse is just swept under the rug.

Since you read all the way to the end, maybe take a look at this

National Sexual Assault Hotline:

1-800-656-4673

National Domestic Violence Hotline:

800-799-7233

RAINN (Rape Abuse Incest National Network)

1-800-656-4673

National Suicide Prevention Lifeline

1-800-273-8255

You deserve love and support. What happened wasn’t your fault in the slightest. Not even for a single second. You deserve happiness, hope, and to live a long and healthy life. Everything will be ok again. Doesn’t seem like it now, but it will. I promise