#fuck it we ball as the kids say
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so ranchers huh
#sorry Im allergic to long posts but hehe uhh I wanted to post it all at once...#rancher duo#team ranchers#trafficshipping#tangotek#jimmy solidarity#double life#double life fanart#trafficblr#they are so soft and I have way too many ideas for art of them by virtue but Im gonna stop myself there#sorry if my human anatomy is awkward anywhere eugh#not terribly confident about my human art but we go all in baby#fuck it we ball as the kids say#in the way I imagine them Tango keeps his flames at bay when around people but does still walk around with his hair casually on fire#he just cant help it when Jimmy's an affectionate dog more than an avian though you know#tubby art
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I think a lot of people are frustrated sometimes when somebody expresses that therapy just "doesn't work" for them, and I used to feel that way, too, until I realized that the therapy that I was doing just wasn't right for me.
When people think therapy, I think many just assume it's all cognitive behavioural therapy and that that is the only kind of therapy out there. However, this isn't true, and CBT can absolutely be ineffective for certain situations. If you are confused by this idea, here's an example: when I was in the midst of my most recent abusive circumstance, not only was my therapy weaponized against me by my abuser, but also, the therapists I had were ill-prepared to treat ongoing abuse. They had the tools common for CBT, but there is only so much a victim can do before their circumstances are completely out of their control. In a case like this, CBT can be an unhelpful tool alone, which is why you have people who blanket statement say that all therapy is unhelpful (understandable why one would say that if they haven't had any helpful/good experiences).
It seems like people see this idea that "therapy doesn't work" as an automatic red flag, and certainly, I can imagine why one would think that. However, in a healthcare system that generally prioritizes CBT therapy as the "only therapy," it's helpful to remember that CBT isn't always the best option or the best option alone.
#mental health#mental health support#abuse#abuse tw#abuse mention tw#i just think it's best to not assume that people say this because they 'dont try'#i've had a decade's worth of CBT before i had to stop and it wasn't very helpful and i tried!#it's just that CBT doesn't 'need' to be specialized which means it tends to be cheaper than specialists#it's just really frustrating to navigate these spaces as somebody who's 'failed' CBT therapy#i think this therapy absolutely has its place and i think you can do cbt alongside specialized therapies#but i don't always think cbt alone is right for everybody - it wasn't right at all for me#and if i go to therapy again i'll probably explore alternatives or specialized therapy alongsode cbt#but that's probably if i get lucky#obligatory i am not a professional; i have just been a patient for a decade+ and speak with that experience in mind#actually the more i think about it the more fucked up it was that my abuser used therapy against me i never really thought about it as a kid#kept this one in the drafts for a bit but fuck it we ball
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actually On Your Feet gave us two good things (well. three if you like Realize which I do). Kohane's "it's frustrating" line and the great crack fic idea of Vivid Bad Squad getting cancelled online for skipping school to yell at The Kotaki Taiga as he was about to go back to America.
#no because. he went there to continue radder's dream yeah? the one about becoming world successful musicians#and they had a record label for a bit. they were definitely going to make it at least somewhat.#so we can assume taiga is at the very least a semi well known musician yeah?#one that someone about to either leave or enter japan might know about. who will see this musician they enjoy#being shouted at by a high school girl in her school uniform about how they will surpass him or something along those lines#with three other kids (in uniform from a different school) standing behind her#and then going onto sekai universe twitter to post about it and the taiga kotaki fans taking it by storm#taiga gets off the plane in america and finds he's trending and it's because people are making fun of a blurry picture of his ex pupil#meanwhile vivid bad squad just don't know because it was contained entirely on twitter and.#be honest can you see any of them having twitter because i can't. an maybe but akito doesn't have time for social media and toya is toya#and kohane is a tumblr girlie if i've ever seen one#however it does give the great concept of someone else seeing it and debating if they should say anything#because mmj definitely has an official account they could have seen it on and also there's ena shinonome and mizuki akiyama#but anyway this also means when they do put on the event to surpass rad weekend (or whatever their goal ends up being)#there will be a crowd of people looking at it and going “isn't that the group of kids that twitter made fun of ages ago?”#and then taiga kotaki stans on sekai universe twitter will be stunned because they did in fact surpass him#if it wasn't for the gcses i would write this but alas. enjoy my weird thoughts#bagel's rambles#project sekai#i am scared to main tag this one but. fuck it we ball
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something about love handles
#critical watches monkie kid#i got nothin to say for myself#im so tired i cant even process if posting is a good idea. who cares! fuck it we ball
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I would call amane, yuno and muu 'puchki'... Amane and yuno would kill me
#.mimiming ❜#it's like a cute way to refer to a kid (in sylheti)#also we do add like terms of endearment#like sona (pronounced shona#sylheti and bengali both dont say s)#like .. amane shona#yuno shona#its like saying dear amane dear yuno#btw puchki is just puchki with no name added before or after#but also language is fuck it we ball so#i personally cannot for the life of me remember my two year old cousin's name#i call her puchki insteafd of her name#cause i do not know
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the flash should have ended with barry quitting his job at ccpd to become a stay-at-home husband and that's on that
#the fun part is it genuinely could have ended like that. i have no idea. still haven't watched it#NOBODY TELL ME BTW#THAT IS NOT ME ASKING FOR SPOILERS. I'LL GET TO IT#but honestly it's the only thing that makes sense. i have genuine reasons for this#namely: how the fuck is iris. an incredible but ordinary non-speedster woman. meant to look after a baby speedster#ordinary babies are already making it their life's mission to die. eating shit they shouldn't. rolling over and suffocating.#idk i don't know about kids but i know babies are breakable and will roll off tables and god knows what else#now imagine you have a toddler and she can literally move at hundreds of miles per hour#how the fuck was iris meant to cope?#i still maintain that when they did the 'she put a power dampener in nora' plot it should have been like. not a control thing#but also yeah. literally a control thing because HOW THE FUCK ELSE WAS SHE MEANT TO LOOK AFTER HER BABY#if barry is gone and she's a single mother. assuming no other speedsters are around to help her. what the fuck else was she meant to do?#of course she had to suppress her powers because how can you stop your toddler running into traffic if she can run 1000 times faster than u#how do you keep her in her crib at night if she can phase through the bars?#in that sense. yeah it's fucked up. but you can understand it. you can empathize. what other options did she have?#so yeah stay-at-home dad barry is the only thing that makes sense for genuine safety reasons#he is quite literally the only one who can keep up with the kids#they dropped the ball on nora is all i'm saying. again. fic that lives in my head where original nora's death actually means something#and we get a new nora who is ACTUALLY a different person. as she would be considering her whole upbringing was different#and she has to somehow live up to the memory of a version of her that was erased from time#part of barry and iris can't accept that that specific version of their daughter is gone and it's not her#THE ANGST POTENTIALLLL#in my head she doesn't even go by nora because she's like. THAT'S NOT ME. SHE DIED. WHY CAN'T YOU ACCEPT WHO I AM AND LOVE ME FOR ME#she goes by dawn bc yeah im still kinda sad they didnt use that name#fictional characters give ur kid an original name instead of always naming them after dead ppl challenge#my fics#my meta
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also on the topic of "kryptos is bill's lawyer" i've had the headcanon for a while that not only is this still technically true, but that the rest of the henchmaniacs had absolutely no idea about bill and kryptos' actual relationship and dynamic for a WHILE because every time any henchmaniac would put together that "hey wait i think kryptos is from bill's old dimension, why was he kept around?" it would just be brushed off by bill with "you know how hard it is to find a lawyer?" and some of them went full centuries thinking that the crux of their dynamic really was "he's enough of a weirdo to be tolerable to keep around, and nobody else in their right mind would take me on as a client" and that kryptos partying with them, living with them, and having more private convos with bill than the rest of them were just Perks And Duties Of The Job
#one day teeth is like 'when you took bill on as a client i bet you didn't have this in mind'#and kryptos is like. what.#'... what do you mean what? you're saying your other clients are like this???'#and kryptos is just like 'what the fuck has bill been saying. i'm here because i've been his best friend since we were kids'#meanwhile 8-ball asks bill and it turns into a fucking 'why do you call your lawyer babygirl' 'let's talk about something else' conversatio
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blorbo from my books that no one else has read
#sorry i really did consider the implications of fandomifications like this#but genuinely no one goes on the tag so fuck it we ball#(as the kids say)#gormenghast#dark cacao cookie#lord sepulchrave groan#titus groan#fuchsia groan#<3#my art tag#artstuff
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pink elephants
Rated T | 3.9k | read on ao3
Summary:
[...] that is Buck who sits across from him on the sofa, tapping Eddie's remote against his knee while he looks for something on the TV, and that is Buck who sings loudly and off-key in his shower, but it isn't. Sure, that is Buck's body and Buck's face but all the core memories of himself and Christopher and the life they've woven together are gone, locked away or simply stolen from his brain by a car accident that nearly stole him too. There have been a lot of painful moments in Eddie's life: Shannon's death, the helicopter crash, and learning about Mills' suicide to name a few, but the look on Buck's face when he saw Eddie sitting at his beside—the cock of his head and the politely confused smile on his face when he looked between Eddie's face and their hands knotted together on his bedspread and asked who he was...
Eddie is not certain, but he is pretty sure that moment was a knife in his aortic chamber. He is also sure that knife is still there.
or; amnesia fic because i love being self-indulgent
When Eddie was a boy, Adriana was obsessed with pink elephants. He doesn't know who, exactly, told her about it—whether it was one of her tiny, excitable friends in first grade, or whether his sister, in her own insatiable curiosity, stumbled across the phrase herself—but one day, when Eddie was walking her and Sophia home from school, Adriana said, "Eddie," in that girlish, singsongy voice she used to have, "Don't think about pink elephants," and then giggled when he scowled.
After that, it was pink elephants all the time.
Don't think about pink elephants, Adriana would giggle from behind her hands while Eddie tried to get her ready for school. Don't think about pink elephants, when he was putting on his suit for mass. It wasn't long before Sophia joined her because, as things usually went in their household, there wasn't much one could do without the other soon following. Pretty soon, there were two girls, both under the age of ten, constantly in his ear trying their hardest to get him to think of pink elephants. To this day, he's still not entirely convinced they didn't ask him to do their hair in the mornings just so they could have a few extra minutes just to be silly, but he took his role as big brother seriously, and though he considered himself to be above their childish games the way most older brothers are, he indulged them anyway, mostly because he didn't have a choice. Because that's the thing about pink elephants: once aware, thinking about them is always an inevitability rather than an uncertainty.
Watching Buck is kind of like that. Eddie has always looked at him, has always been aware of the nearness of him, the scent of him that is all cologne, laundry detergent, and sweat, but it's all he can think about now.
What's that saying? The more things change, the more they stay the same?
Here is the undeniable truth: everything has changed.
Buck is alive.
Buck is dead.
Eddie's brain is constantly at war between figuring out which one's true and which one isn't.
Sometimes, he thinks they're both true at the same time. Because that is Buck who sits across from him on the sofa, tapping Eddie's remote against his knee while he looks for something on the TV, and that is Buck who sings loudly and off-key in his shower, but it isn't. Sure, that is Buck's body and Buck's face but all the core memories of himself and Christopher and the life they've woven together are gone, locked away or simply stolen from his brain by a car accident that nearly stole him too. There have been a lot of painful moments in Eddie's life: Shannon's death, the helicopter crash, and learning about Mills' suicide to name a few, but the look on Buck's face when he saw Eddie sitting at his beside—the cock of his head and the politely confused smile on his face when he looked between Eddie's face and their hands knotted together on his bedspread and asked who he was...
Eddie is not certain, but he is pretty sure that moment was a knife in his aortic chamber. He is also pretty sure that that knife is still there.
He excused himself from the room when the pained silence began to stretch for an uncomfortable amount of time, and the look on Buck's face drifted from polite confusion to vague alarm. The last thing Eddie heard before untangling their hands and ducking out of the room was the sound of Buck's heartrate monitor beeping quicker and quicker. Someone called his name behind him—Bobby, or Hen, or Maddie, even—but he didn't hear them, not really. He kept it together long enough to find the quiet, empty solace of the hospital chapel, close the door behind him, and finally shatter like one of those stained glass windows painting the room amber and amethyst. What a peculiar grief it is to mourn someone who is alive. It is not a grief he has had much practice in. All of Eddie's ghosts are just that: dead loved ones he still sees haunting the corners of his eye when he least expects them. But Buck was not dead. Thank God he was not dead. But he was also not quite Buck and staring down the barrel of a future in which Buck was Buck but he wasn't Eddie's Buck was so enormously suffocating, Eddie is still surprised he didn't die right there on the carpeted floor.
read on ao3
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So not only am I reading fandom blind, I'm about to read a soulmate AU where the soulmate's injuries show up on the other's skin, and obviously this means that one of them is going to be significantly more injured than the other, and there's also now characters who I've genuinely never heard of in the tags :)
#i swear to god im in complete control of my life right now#i genuinely cannot tell you how i got here but by the Force am i glad to be#shoutout to covid for getting me into this ship#actually can i still say im reading fandom blind if ive read almost 200k for the ship already?#i mean im counting it as such exclusively because i do not know who any of these side characters are#ive seen the justice le@gue once as a kid (like 15 years ago) and thats the extent of my knowledge here#so#yolo and fuck it we ball >:)
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Okay that's enough boops. Back to writing saucy Hotelpod fics that appeal to only me.
#sorry smoked this one's for the femslash enjoyers#i have picked a dress for madam hotel and now as the kids say 'fuck it we ball'
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i have once again been discriminated against for my accent
#i’m kidding it’s not discrimination at all it’s just#i live in rio de janeiro right. and we have a very specific accent that’s different from all other states#we drag our sentences (so it sounds a bit lazy??) and we pronounce our S like an X#like. take the word ‘bolas’ (balls). we say bolash while literally every other state just says bolas like the S in the word ‘say’#anyway. our accent makes us sound like players somehow; it’s hard to explain#and the carioca (means from rio) stereotype is that we always find shortcuts to everything; to get what we want without working for it#and it’s partially true tbh#but for some reason (i have no idea why) my accent specifically is very very strong (& i only found out ab it a few weeks ago)#and it makes me sound even more of a ‘player’. i asked ppl to be honest w me ab it and they said i sound like#a drug dealer or someone ‘shady’ that works w something illegal#and like i’m lazy and don’t care ab anything and maybe don’t take things seriously#and i mean all of it is true. kind of#but it’s shit that ppl can guess all my flaws just bc of my accent#sorry im rambling i’m so annoyed by this. i’d change if i could but idk how to speak differently fr#and ab my flaws. well i know i /can/ change them but idk how. i’m trying and i hope i become less lazy and more interested in serious thing#(cause yk. my biggest flaw is that i can’t bring myself to give a fuck ab the things i should care ab like responsibilities and shit)#god i’m rambling again im just so ughhh#text#giocore#about me#language
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I love when I search for something and the search function is like "hey I'm not gonna tell you this but I went ahead and included a bunch of relevant terms in the search for you, too! we'd hate for you to miss anything!" like wow the internet is so good now right?
what I searched: Freddie Purrcury
what I got: a whole fucking lot of monarchy memorabilia
#no it's cool you're right it's not like people understand the concept of searching for the actual thing they want#and no one has ever realized before that if their first search doesn't get them what they want they can try a different term#interacting with the internet these days gives me so much empathy for toddlers#like it's our mom going oh you want the boat? the ball? the bear?#and we're like no the banana i am saying banana just like you taught me why aren't you giving me the banana i could not be more clear here#fuck the monarchy i hate the monarchy if i wanted monarchy shit i wouldn't have been searching for freddie fucking PURRcury#like they had to go TWO steps there#just looking for a cute sticker for my kid and now i hate everything#the enshittification of the internet#it used to be so good#i don't even bother with google anymore this was on etsy#like i found what i wanted but i shouldn't have to sift through a bunch of irrelevant shit i hate because you threw in extra words#and obviously it's not because they don't want is to miss anything#or it is but it's anything we might impulse buy as we continue our search#once again the culprit is capitalism#fuck capitalism#rant#freddie purrcury#sing-you-fools
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happy new year!! my uncle asked us what we all hoped for in 2024 and i said “sun explodes” and accidentally killed the mood but it was still a good start to the year
#had the worst hangover this morning#fuck it we ball#or whatever the kids say#idk#i need to make more original posts#new years
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met up with my schools principal today to explain shit going on & all she could say at first was "wow that’s a lot"
#for context: i have to tell the school so i can try & get away with absences#also so they don’t think i died or something if i suddenly miss a lot of days#it’s a little stressful when not even an adult knows what to tell you but umm fuck it we ball#i don’t wanna say everything going on because it’s a lot i think#i don’t want everyone here to look at me with pity too#it’s kinda funny#wanting and both hating pity. soemtimes i just want people to view me as a kid#then other times i want to be taken as seriously as an adult#oh whatever#anyways#i still don’t have energy to draw#i was going to but i’m just sitting here now#man i really don’t want to turn this blog into some diary type shit but idk#silly little daily posts would keep me sane i think#i don’t think they’d be very positive for a while but i will focus on the small things#shrug#no idea#im gonna go watch youtube now#>calibri rambles
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i’m fuckin’ invincible! - team 9 gold round
The cave crumbles, its rocky exterior giving way to the open air. Dust clouds whip up as the arena does away with its drab and dreary setting, but they do not last long, for a deluge of rainfall immediately snuffs them out. They are high in the clouds now, our heroes, situated atop a concrete plateau just barely beneath petering droplets. As Owain looks down, he can see roads and buildings, but not any kind of road or building from his world. No, this technology is foreign, almost alien. Were it not for his adventures in Eden, he wouldn’t have a name for his setting. A city is what he knows it as, despite it contrasting with the preestablished definition of the word. They are atop a skyscraper: another word he has come to know through that book. As his eyes scan the horizon he notices several more sprouting from the ground he can barely make out, though none are as tall as the one he fights on.
His head then snaps to his enemy, and his gear is exchanged for a new set. A pegasus’ wings lift him into the air, and all that heavy stuff from last round has disappeared to make room for a pair of gauntlets in his hands. He scoffs at his foe, for he knows it will be taken down in spite of its gargantuan size. It is a metal titan of near-unimaginable design, standing on two legs and sporting a pair of protrusions he can only guess are meant to be arms. But they connect into no sort of hand, and are positioned up and out of the way of the creature’s body--almost like a bird’s wingspan. Its giant metal face opens and lets loose a mechanical roar, shattering the glass on floors below, and causing a smaller triad of drones to cling to their stadium. It then goes silent, and a translucent veil envelops its body. It disappears, though perhaps blending in would be a better way of stating things. Its body is now the same color as they grey sky and falling rain--a target impossible to hit, again in spite of its gargantuan size.
“Hmph,” Dark smirks, pulling his weapons on tighter, “you dare make an enemy of me? You will meet your end, fiend, for I have been reborn as the Fist of the South Star! Watch as I unleash my fury!”
Owain uses Brave Knuckles! Roll 4d20+6 = 11, 9, 17, 17; hit, hit, hit, hit! -3 HP, -3 HP, -3 HP, -3 HP; Radio Scout: Scrap A 8/20 HP
Self-Repair activates! Roll 1d7 = 7, Alloy Arsenal: Revengeance consumes Radio Scout: Scrap A to heal +1 HP and gain a permanent +1 luck
“My first four forms collide against your tin-can flesh! URAAHH!”
“Fall to the might of my Blade of Light!”
“Garden of Gaiden will leave you reeling!”
“Taste my Mystery of the Emblem!”
“Genealogy of Infinite Pain! It hurts so bad, your grandchildren will be wincing for years after your death!”
Of note is the fact that robots do not have children. They do, however, get eaten. And this one, after taking a beating of four deadly punches from the Scion of Legend, does just that. The kill switch in its body detects that it has taken sufficient damage, and lights a siren to signal it is no longer of use. Instantly Owain’s foe is consumed by the bigger one. He recoils in disgust, flying back a few feet with his mount, but is ultimately undeterred. When another bot climbs up to replace the first, he is quick to strike it down just as he did its predecessor, spouting another quartet of special moves.
Summon Scouts activates! Radio Scout A is replaced!
Owain uses Brave Knuckles! Roll 4d20+6 = 7, 24, 15, 17; hit, hit, hit, hit! -3 HP, -3 HP, -3 HP, -3 HP; Radio Scout: Scrap A 8/20 HP
Self-Repair activates! Roll 1d7 = 3, Alloy Arsenal: Revengeance consumes Radio Scout: Scrap A to heal +1 HP and gain a permanent +0.5 base damage
“Had enough yet? You will after a Thracia Thrashing!”
“Binding Beatdown!”
“Blazing Beat-Up!”
“This move I know well, so cower in fear! Sacred Stones Strike!”
Any unfortunate enough to watch would have the misfortune of bearing witness to a near-identical fight. Each ramming of his fist puts another dent or break in the small scout’s hull, and after he shouts his last move, it gets repurposed like the first.
Again the roof of this building is shaken by the roaring of the machine. This time it feels stronger against Owain’s flesh, knocking him and his mount onto the ground. He holds on, just barely, but his effort is futile. Another scout comes to replace his second kill, creating a dip in his ego and a falter in his resolve. Is there even a point to fighting these things?
Dark backs off, deciding he’s had enough with mechanical gluttony for now. His plan is to wait for the big one’s cloak to wear off, and give it a taste of his next eight sacred forms.
UP NEXT: @luneirika @viridescent-lance @making-dough
#IC#EVENT THREAD (I'M FUCKIN' INVINCIBLE!)#LUNEIRIKA#MAKING-DOUGH#VIRIDESCENT-LANCE#toaarena2022winter#//as the kids say--fuck it we ball
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