#trauma and healing

[aventurineswife]

The weight of the sky seemed endless as the two of you sat in silence, the gentle hum of the Astral Express vibrating beneath your feet. Sunday’s gaze was cast toward the swirling cosmos outside the window, his eyes softened by the vastness before him. His wings fluttered ever so slightly, a subtle sign of something unspoken, something held close within his heart. His halo hovered faintly above him, the eyes etched within it flickering in time with the distant stars.

Beside him, you, a fallen angel, watched as the space between the two of you expanded and contracted, as if the universe itself was breathing in sync with your hesitant connection. Once, you had both been celestial beings, bathed in light and purpose. But now, the wings that had once been a symbol of grace hung heavier, tarnished by the fall, by the choices that had been made. Your shared past was no longer a dream of peace, but an echo of something more complicated—something fractured.

It was the stillness between you that felt the loudest. Sunday’s usual calm demeanor, always so composed, now seemed like a fragile facade, as if his very presence was too delicate to bear the weight of both his idealism and his doubts. And you—your once-vibrant wings were now a muted reflection of their former glory, the loss of innocence still fresh on your soul. You had fallen, yes, but in your heart, you both knew it wasn’t just the fall that kept you grounded. It was the constant struggle to rise again, together or apart.

You had loved him once, and perhaps still did, despite the years of separation, despite the wounds that had never fully healed. His soft gaze met yours briefly, and for a moment, the distance between the two of you seemed to vanish. But only for a moment. The coldness of his self-imposed solitude crept back in, shrouding him in the same protective shell that had kept him isolated for so long.

He, the protector of dreams, the idealist who wished to escape suffering, now seemed caught between worlds—the one that was real and the one he so desperately wanted to create. You understood that pain; it resonated within you, reverberating through every fiber of your being. The loss of your wings had not been a simple fall; it had been a choice, a fracture of ideals, a departure from a reality too painful to face.

Yet in that fleeting look, you saw him—the Sunday you had known before everything had fallen apart. The one who still clung to hope, however fragile, despite the weight of his guilt. The one who believed in redemption, in healing, even when the path forward was cloaked in shadows. He was still searching, still yearning for something better, but it was unclear whether he was doing it for the world or for himself.

Your wings, though broken, still yearned to reach him. To soothe the turmoil that clouded his thoughts, to whisper the truth that you both were more than the sum of your pasts. You had fallen, yes, but you had also risen, over and over. And so had he, in his own way, struggling with his own fall.

But it was the fall that had changed you both. The quiet way you drifted into each other's orbit, two souls bound by the same celestial ache, yet bound by the knowledge that redemption wasn’t a place—it was a journey. Together, but apart, your connection remained fragile, and yet undeniable, like the stars that burned dimly yet persistently in the void.

As the train drifted further into the unknown, you sat beside him, not speaking, but knowing. Knowing that no matter how far the distance stretched between your hearts, there would always be something that tethered you both together—a shared past, a shared longing, a shared, quiet hope.

Originally was requested by someone on Wattpad but I wanted to post here too because I can and I will 🧍‍♀️🫶

[earthangelrage]

I’ve been wanting to paint this in the style of Tracey Emin for years and I finally drew it on my iPad on procreate. I can’t wait until I’m able to paint this on a canvas. This is about how I’ve only ever felt pretty while having my trauma re-enacted through rough and degrading sex with a partner who did not give a fuck about my well-being. I broke my own heart each time that I recreated my sexual abuse but I also laid it out on a silver platter for the predator to devour it as well. This was a partnered effort that made me feel at home during the act and torn with shame and self disgust afterwards. This piece is the visual representation of sex used as self harm. I know that many victims of csa/sa who have acted out in both sexual and self destructive ways because of what we suffered before. I make this art for many survivors who can relate but also for the survivors who have too much shame to speak out about it. The world has shunned us enough for something that was out of our control so please have compassion and grace towards yourself. Love, Grace <3

[alicefromwhichplanet]

My new work! In this fiction I made my first attempt to create my OCs. They’re actually sparklings to be more specific:

Jinglestorm— Blitzwing and Bumblebee’s daughter, an orange jet, blue optics

Skystrophe— Megatron and Optimus’s son, a black truck, red optics (a bit inspired by Scourge)

Clobber— Strika and Lugnut’s daughter, a ground unit (like tfc Clobber) but in Strika’s color, red optics

This story is an AU of tfa/ my tfa fiction Heroic Nonsense. The three main characters, as members of a new patch of sparklings born after the Great War, also children of decepticon veterans/ autobot-decepticon parents, are going to blaze a trail to building a new world where autobots and decepticons are peacefully united, while exploring and healing scars left by the old warring world.

Follow their adventures! This will be a story about: trauma after war and how the gap between two race/fractions can be healed after war ended; the growth story of three children with complex identities.

Excerpt:

“Then why don’t you tell us about the beginning year of the Great War?” The old professor just can’t let her go. This time she isn’t sure. Her optics wander to her friends— Clobber sitting front right of her, is now staring at the window as well, her mouth agape in a daydream, her biggest optic half-shut, her history tablet almost shut down from power off. Slag! Her optics again wander to the back row. Skystrophe is there giving her a silent condemning look. His book is neatly opened to the page in use but he is clearly not going to give her the answer, and probably does not agree with her behavior of distracting in history class. Skystrophe loves history class, like his famous sire Optimus. Sometimes he is just insufferable.

Looking at Skystrophe’s silent condemning red optics, Jinglestorm is suddenly hit by an idea. She looks back at the professor and says with confidence:

“The Great War began about 5 million years ago. When the decepticon leader Megatron decided to start a riot.”

The classroom falls completely silent. Skystrophe suddenly looks down, pretending to be intrigued by his pencil. Alpha Trion frowns at the young bot, slightly nods and then shakes his helm, looking both satisfied and disappointed at her answer.

“Yes, that was written in textbooks before the war ended. But today, with the united government formed, and a peace treaty being reached permanently between autobots and decepticons— (his mouth corner twitches as he says that) today we say the Great War began when the former autobot government refused to pay decepticon miners full salary at year 917.”

He walks back to his podium with a slightly upset look, while muttering more comments. “The current government believes there are blames on both sides of the Great War, and they required us to be neutral about this part of history teaching. In the past we teach about the dangers decepticon riots posed to our society, but now they say the former autobot government was maintaining an unequal system on Cybertron as well.”

Jinglestorm nods attentively. “Yes. My carrier said…”

“Your carrier, Blitzwing, right?” Alpha Trion’s blue optics narrow as he looks into Jinglestorm’s optics. The girl shrinks a little at the coldness in them.

“You may sit down, Trainee Jinglestorm. ”

[gallavichfanficlibrary]

Hi me again...are there any fics of Ian caring for Mickey when he has a mental breakdown? Or dealing with his past trauma?

Hi hi! We've covered Mickey dealing with past trauma in a few asks. Here are fics where Ian and Mickey talk about the trauma of 3x06, here are more fics addressing Mickey’s 3x06 trauma, and here are the fics that focus on Mickey around the time he finds out that Svetlana became pregnant with Yev. Generally go through our trauma and healing tag :)

Some more suggestions:

What you and I have - Mickey is forced to relive a difficult part of his life, in the form of a very vivid nightmare. Thankfully, his husband is right there next to him, ready to comfort him and help put the past behind them.

Volume - Mickey doesn't like loud noises and fuck if living in the Gallagher house doesn't guarantee loud noise.

Cinderella Man - “You’re my husband,” Ian said simply. “Where else would I be?”

no more monsters (i can breathe again) - And a good night’s sleep couldn’t cure all the grief, all the anger and the pain and the fear, but it definitely wasn’t a bad place to start.

Offspring - Post S10. Mickey flips out when Franny is being too loud.

lemme show you the ropes - Family dynamics shift after the wedding. Mickey's not sure he's ready. Not sure he even knows what family is.

Hold on to what we've got - Something isn’t right, Ian thinks as he watches Mickey exhaling a shaky breath, storming out of the door and leaving a broken chair and a perplexed store manager behind.

[feralxcelestial]

I never thought I would say any of this, I never thought I would live to be an adult. But here we are. Things can and will improve. You can and will find a safe, soft, loving home environment. You will spend late nights with the love of your life, just enjoying each other’s presence. You will spend mornings with them in the kitchen cooking breakfast together. And lazy afternoons cuddling on the couch. You will make a family, even if that means family is just two gays, five cats and a dog. You will all be happy and content together and that’s what matters. And you will learn and grow together, and one day you’ll only be working on reminding yourself that you’re safe and the past is long behind.

[rainbow-rebellion]

Don’t mind me I’m just over here making unintelligible sounds at the season finale of The Way Home…. I’m happy, I’m sad, I’m confused AF and thank the gods they renewed for a season 3 next year, otherwise I might have gone feral after that cliffhanger they left us with

[flannelepicurean]

Just sittin' here having a thought about Teen Gohan sneaking off to do some training with Uncle Raditz for Incredibly Complicated AU Reasons, and putting a little too much WHAM on the ol' KA-BLAM one good time, and then he's having a panic attack because Uncle Raditz is concussed as all goddamn fuck.

And he calls Bulma, because she'll know what to do, right? She's used to patching up Saiyans, she's been doing it for years. And more importantly, when Uncle Raditz stops slurring that it's gonna be fine, calm down, and goes, "Oh, hey 🥴😵‍💫," and Gohan goes, "Please don't tell my mom...🥺" Bulma puts her game face on and starts handling things.

And when Bulma tells Gohan it's gonna be fine, and he can calm down, he believes her. But when she says his dad's coming over to help keep an eye on Uncle Raditz, Gohan un-calms a little bit. It's Incredibly Complicated.

But Bulma impresses on him that somebody's gotta watch Raditz and make sure he's okay until he quits being loopy and all manner of other stuff they gotta watch out for, and she can't do it 24/7, and neither can he. And since Vegeta and Nappa are elsewhere, dealing with A Different Plot Point, their options for people who are going to respect Gohan's privacy are a little thin. And it might not be a bad idea to have a very mature reflection on the whole idea of secrets and consequences and fallout on other people? Maybe? At some point? Regardless of how he feels about his dad.

And Gohan has to Deal With Some Things. And when Uncle Raditz is less loopy, Gohan tries to apologize, but Raditz is having none of it. He's kinda proud of Gohan, although he understands how uncomfortable Gohan is about the whole combat thing. And he says something he probably shouldn't, about how he had it coming anyway. Reaching back on a long implication about how they came into each other's lives.

And Gohan is having none of it. He doesn't care about that anymore. This is Uncle Raditz; don't say dumb shit like that, Uncle Raditz. Gohan has a big ol' wrangle with his feelings and says he couldn't live with himself if he REALLY hurt Raditz. And they both sit there, kinda floored and heartbroken about it for Incredibly Complicated Reasons.

And Uncle Raditz tells Gohan he's gonna have to go back to his dad to train, and keep it up regular, if he wants to keep going. They both know he's way too powerful for Raditz to really teach him what he needs. Vegeta might could, but he's back and forth a lot. And if Gohan wants the control, and the discipline, to go with all that power, he's gotta make it up with his old man.

Gohan thinks about what Bulma said, about secrets, and consequences. He thinks about asking Uncle Raditz if he knew. But he doesn't. It doesn't matter. He knows the truth, if he thinks about it, and it doesn't matter anyway. Besides, he's got to make some important choices, and he needs a clear head. Or as much of one as he can get, these days.

[chronal-anomaly]

i love writing in my modern verse because on paper it's so slice of life - which I personally find boring sometimes - but everything's colored in this air of healing, that even the mundane is a tool to help or a weapon to harm that healing process.

[jesusinstilettos]

I’m about to save you thousands of dollars in therapy by teaching you what I learned paying thousands of dollars for therapy:

It may sound woo woo but it’s an important skill capitalism and hyper individualism have robbed us of as human beings.

Learn to process your emotions. It will improve your mental health and quality of life. Emotions serve a biological purpose, they aren’t just things that happen for no reason.

1. Pause and notice you’re having a big feeling or reaching for a distraction to maybe avoid a feeling. Notice what triggered the feeling or need for a distraction without judgement. Just note that it’s there. Don’t label it as good or bad.

2. Find it in your body. Where do you feel it? Your chest? Your head? Your stomach? Does it feel like a weight everywhere? Does it feel like you’re vibrating? Does it feel like you’re numb all over?

3. Name the feeling. Look up an emotion chart if you need to. Find the feeling that resonates the most with what you’re feeling. Is it disappointment? Heartbreak? Anxiety? Anger? Humiliation?

4. Validate the feeling. Sometimes feelings misfire or are disproportionately big, but they’re still valid. You don’t have to justify what you’re feeling, it’s just valid. Tell yourself “yeah it makes sense that you feel that right now.” Or something as simple as “I hear you.” For example: If I get really big feelings of humiliation when I lose at a game of chess, the feeling may not be necessary, but it is valid and makes sense if I grew up with parents who berated me every time I did something wrong. So I could say “Yeah I understand why we are feeling that way given how we were treated growing up. That’s valid.”

5. Do something with your body that’s not a mental distraction from the feeling. Something where you can still think. Go on a walk. Do something with your hands like art or crochet or baking. Journal. Clean a room. Figure out what works best for you.

6. Repeat, it takes practice but is a skill you can learn :)

[recoverr]

i don't know who needs to hear this, but guilt, self-hatred and shame are not sustainable sources of growth and healing. you can't hate yourself into feeling better, or being better. you can't repeatedly punish yourself for your flawed humanity and expect wholesome results.

[capettitwrites]

Blurb: In Verona's bustling streets, beneath the shadow of Juliet's iconic balcony, a traveler reflects on the weight of tradition, love, and the enduring objectification of women. As tourists flock to touch the bronze statue of Shakespeare's heroine, seeking luck in love, one woman confronts her own past and the cultural stories that shape us. 'To Be A Statue' is a poignant exploration of autonomy, trauma, and the silent strength required to reclaim one's narrative.

CW: Sexual harassment/assault, objectification, implied trauma.

They say that touching certain parts of statues will bring good luck. Rubbing the belly of a Budha, or a dog statue’s nose, or the Charging Bull’s balls. I’ve seen my fair share of bronze statues buffed by human hands, even participated in some myself. A little turtle on Il Porcellino in Sydney owes its shiny head, at least in part, to me and the daily pets I give it on my morning walk. Something about bronze statues just makes us want to reach out and touch. 

Verona, Italy was beautiful. A day and a half of cramped legs and turbulence was well worth it for the medieval town that meandered along the Adige River. The orange street lights glittered off the turquoise water. Foliage of trees and potted plants hanging from balconies doused the streets in green. Burnt orange and muted yellow bricks contrasted against the beige masonry of the Romanesque architecture that surrounded us. 

Yesterday, Hayley and I had visited the Arena. While only a third of the size compared to the Colosseum, we were absolutely struck by how much it imposed. The streets of Piazza Bra from the Arena danced like a rainbow with its colourful houses. In addition to the tour, we managed to get tickets to Giuseppe Zenatallo’s Aida and the tragic opera filled our evening. 

Today, Hayley and I stand in Juliet’s House. Well, her courtyard to be more precise. Amongst the crowds, we admire her balcony and the ivy-coated trellis her Romeo would have climbed. The gate at the back of the courtyard is heavy with the weight of lovers’ locks, names of couples daring to love like Romeo and Juliet shining out under the sun. I can’t help but be reminded of the love lock bridge in Paris and wonder how long before the government puts an end to this too. How long before the gate falls over and all those relationships shatter with it?

There’s a bronze statue of Juliet standing just below the balcony. The people queue to have a photo with her and we join the curling line. All around, the tourists chatter in a thesaurus of languages. As we come to the front, with Juliet’s dim face staring back at us, I remember how cruel humanity is. Locked into herself, the people laugh and fondle her breast. Only her clothed chest has been rubbed golden. 

‘It’s a tradition,’ Hayley whispers to me. ‘They say if you touch her right breast, it’ll bring good luck for finding your one true love.’ 

The more I look at her, the sadder her eyes seem. It’s a familiar sadness. With our eyes locked, the line between statue and person begins to blur. As if the day were Friday and we spoke in unison, I feel I’m the one encased in bronze, standing there having my right breast cupped and carressed for the good fortune of a stranger. Juliet takes my place in line with Hayley, carrying all my history. 

It seems easy to put that young girl, only age fourteen, in my place. In my memories, my fiery red locks turn into her coppery bronze. The girl in My Little Pony pyjamas, dancing to Hannah Montana, becomes the statue Juliet. When Aunt Petra helps Mum in the kitchen and her boyfriend stays, I’m no longer the one in the room. Juliet takes the fall. Dull bronze shining under his touch. Maybe it’ll bring him luck. Maybe he and Aunt Petra will be together forever.. 

I can feel tourists groping at my breast when Juliet wanders onto my high school oval. The boys crowd her like the sightseers at Casa de Giulietta. It wasn’t her fault that she began maturing so young. It was natural for her to have a D-cup chest by the time she started high school. She wasn’t doing anything wrong when she let them ogle her. As far as she was concerned that’s what gave her purpose. If being sexualised was the only time she was given attention then how can you blame her for letting them have their way?

Juliet never grew past that point. Man devoured her before she became a grown up. Murder by lust. I think if she had the opportunity to live in this world a little longer, her eyes would have ended up looking like mine. Maybe her eyes were even the same shade ofshade of green. With age, they’d harden and grey. With age, she’d learn to hate her body. With age, she’d come to learn that Romeo never loved her. His infatuation was flighty and hardly worth the death she endured. Dream that the two resolved their families’ issues, that they spent their final moments with wrinkled hands wrapped around each other. Enjoy that innocence. 

‘Should we leave a message?’ Hayley asks and gestures to the wall below Juliet’s balcony. Littered in messages from young lovers in the hopes their love will last forever. Wandering closer, I see notes from Gloria and Chiara, Leo and Baby, E+R, someone named Armin. Messages that read ‘por las amores que te hacen’ and ‘que se lia conmigo’ and ‘I love my family so much’. People will do anything other than work hard for what they want. Relying on superstition and luck. 

I don’t want love. Not anymore. 

‘Yes,’ I answer and Hayley pulls out a paper and pen. She’s never been one to leave the house without some stationary on her. Writer’s habit, she jokes. Taking the pen in hand, I write down my wish. Maybe someday Juliet will make it come true. 

‘For love that liberates rather than confines. In the pursuit of dreams, may we shatter the bronze ceiling.

-Serena’

[empoweredmindcs]

Unresolved trauma can show up in our relationships in ways we don’t expect. In this video, we uncover 10 ways that trauma can affect connections with loved ones, from trust issues to emotional triggers. Whether you're healing alone or with a partner, understanding these effects can help you build stronger, more resilient relationships.

[gallavichfanficlibrary]

Hiii

do you know any fanfics that talk about how Ian got groomed and how it's a problem etc? The Show never really acknowledged how it's not ok and Ian just thought it was fine. Maybe sth were the family finds out or Ian just talks about it casually without realizing thats not a normal thing? I don't rlly care haha

Thank uu

Hii! You're absolutely right, Shameless authors just used it as a joke in HOS and never aknowledge it. Didn't even let Ian realize it on his own.

We did answer a couple of asks on Ian's past sexual abuse/grooming, I think this list is the most elaborate one.

And I know that this series is on the list, but do go through all the fics of the All You Wanna Do series. It's a very underrated and undercommented series about the explorations of Ian’s sexual trauma. So good!

I also suggest looking through the list that implies Ian having an eating disorder since he did mention in canon that he was starving himself while working at the club, so it goes hand in hand with the whole sexual trauma thing.

[feralxcelestial]

Please let me have the fucking patience to deal with this cunt. Please

[judeaftersickness]

hii im river this is my a little life sideblog. main is @0kultra!

this blog will most likely be for quotes and art lol but ill update this post as necessary if i start posting more things :-)

tags below <3

characters!!

- jude st francis

- willem ragnarsson

- malcolm irvine

- jb marion

- harold stein

- andy contractor

themes!!

- chronic pain

- forgiveness

- friendship and found family

- identity and self-perception

- isolation and connection

- love and sacrifice

- power and control

- trauma and healing

- trust and betrayal

- vulnerability and intimacy

misc

- language and imagery

- quotes

- mine

[captaingimpy]

Review of Keep Sweet: Pray and Obey

Netflix’s Keep Sweet: Pray and Obey is a four-part documentary that plunges viewers into the dark, disturbing world of the Fundamentalist Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints (FLDS), a polygamist sect ruled by Warren Jeffs. The series is relentless, not just in its portrayal of Jeffs as a calculated predator, but in the way it unpacks the systematic manipulation and oppression he enacted…