#metaphor card

[therapycards]

Healing from a Child Loss: My Journey with Metaphorical Associative Cards 👶🌼💔

Losing my child was the most heartbreaking experience of my life. I was filled with dreams and hopes, but fate had other plans. My pregnancy faced challenges, and the lack of timely analysis and treatment played a part. It’s not about blaming anyone, but acknowledging the pain and the need for healing.

In the depths of my grief, I found solace in therapy with Metaphorical Associative Cards (MACs). These cards became a gentle guide, helping me navigate my emotions and process my loss. Each card I chose allowed me to express my sorrow, understand my pain, and slowly begin to heal.

Through MACs, I found a way to honor my lost child, to speak the unspeakable, and to find strength in my own story. This journey is ongoing, but with each card, I take a step forward towards peace and acceptance.

To anyone experiencing similar pain, know that your feelings are valid, and healing is possible. There is hope, and there are tools, like MACs, to help you through.

#PregnancyLoss #HealingJourney #MetaphoricalCards #GriefSupport #EmotionalHealing #MentalHealth #SelfCompassion #TherapyTools #FindingStrength #InnerPeace #WomenSupportingWomen #FollowForMore

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[heavenbarnes]

(tw allusions to murder and violence)

your older bf!simon who’s more accurately described as a gun dog.

trained to the sound of a gunshot- where you tell him to go, he’ll follow.

loyal like a hound, too. whatever heinous little mess you find yourself in, he’s there to clean it up.

lick the blood right off your hands.

“i didn’t mean to, he was being so awful- i just pushed him- i didn’t know his head would hit the curb!”

the tears in your eyes were doing less to convince him and more to make him harder between his thighs.

big thumbs, rough pads and blunt nails, pressed to your cheeks to wipe away the tears that were trailing off them.

“don’ worry, sweet’art- i’ll ‘andle it”

tells you to go inside and make a tea, let the kettle whistle long as you want. turn the telly up full tilt and put your feet up.

if you hear anything, don’t come looking.

so you do as you’re told, you curl into his side of the couch and you tune out the sound of the garage door opening, the distant sounds of dragging.

you don’t even flinch when you hear the first swing of an axe.

you forget, you’re free of thought when he takes you to bed and turns your brain to mush. lets it leak out your ears like-

anyways.

gun dog, retriever- picking up kill and dropping it at his master’s feet.

just once. he doesn’t like seeing you get dirtied by what he feels more aptly fits him.

after that, attack dog. hound waiting to be released, will bare his teeth if you so much as whistle.

“you should’ve seen the way he looked at me, simon”

his teeth could’ve shattered with the force in his jaw behind his bite.

“looked at me like he wanted me, thought that he owned me”

a visible shudder ran through him, visions behind his eyes of you with anyone else.

“told him i had you but- well, he said you didn’t matter”

so you stay inside and you forget, don’t even flinch when you hear simon get his keys and lace up his boots.

“i’ll be ‘ome soon”

you forget, isn’t till he’s kissing your forehead and laying you back on the couch that you even remember he was out.

long fingers wrapping around your ankle to sling over his shoulder. you don’t pay attention the the dried blood under his finger nails.

disregard the scratches down the length of his chest. replace them with your own.

“anyone ever gives y’grief, jus’ tell me and i’ll ‘andle it”

there’s a symphony of “yes, yes, yes” slipping off your tongue and you could blame it on clever fingers of his but-

you like being the hand that holds the leash.

fighting dog, ring dog- lay money on him and he’ll make you rich.

lay a finger on what’s his and he’ll make you pay.

“sweaty hands, tried to grab me when i walked past”

ignore the blood in the tread of his boots.

“called you weak, said a real man would’ve been out with me”

ignore the bite marks on the shell of his ear.

“called me a filthy slut- kind of the same way you do”

ignore the new wood chipper behind the house.

simon’s a big dog with loyalty in spades, born to serve one master.

you never ask so he never tells. play ignorant, blissful and unaware about what grows from the seeds you plant.

seeds scattered to the wind that happen to catch within him, seeds that take and grow gnarled and angry and looking for an excuse.

any excuse to show what he’s made of.

you know he’s always been a mean dog, you know he’s always had bite.

but you, of course, never worried your pretty little head.

not even when an ugly one turns up on the doorstep.

bad dog.

plays with his food.

[raevenswritingdesk]

Now that the episodes aired

Anyone else still want to know what this means?

Why the mismatched hearts? Hmm

[thankstothe]

season 1 pretties

[yourfatherjustinmcelroy]

They killed and ate the artefacts When things had gone awry. They killed and ate the artefacts, And gnawed at their supply.

They held each other hand in hand, Sought refuge in the storm. They oft prolonged the final stand To keep on feeling warm.

They killed and ate the instruments From which their magic poured. They killed and ate the instruments- No more music to be scored.

And when it started drying up, And stomachs soon would ache, When all they had to cherish left Was all they could forsake,

They killed and ate the artefacts, The instruments and radicals And when their living use was done, They killed and ate the animals.

[theminecraftbee]

Quackity leans back in his velvet chair. Joe watches him shuffle the deck. His fingers are pretty fast, Joe thinks, but for a guy who runs a casino, he’s actually sorta slow at it, doing the sorts of things that look flashy for an observer but aren’t fast enough to keep a consistent flow of games going.

“I’ve gotta say, I’m glad you didn’t want to fight me to the death,” Joe says after a moment. “I would have done it, I mean. I’ve done lotsa death-fighting. UHCs and Vechs and did you know how I met Cleo? But—”

“Nah, man,” Quackity says, laying the cards out on the table. “If we’ve got a chance to talk, why not talk? I’m a lover, not a fighter.”

“Lotta scars for a lover.”

“Well, you know how it is,” Quackity says, gesturing vaguely. “You know how it is.”

“I mean, sure?” Joe says, and his tone must be appropriately confused, because it makes Quackity laugh.

Quackity puts the deck of cards down. “Well, my newest friend, well! Pick your poison.”

“Can I pick something that’s not a poison?”

“If you think you can beat me at cards, sure,” Quackity says magnanimously. “You pick the game, man, it’s the players who decide the poison.”

“Philosophical!” Joe says brightly.

“I try,” Quackity says.

“What would you suggest?” Joe asks.

“I like poker, of course, but blackjack might be easier for a beginner.”

“Well, if I do that I’ll be sure to take hits on sixteen,” Joe says.

“What?”

“The audience at home will get it,” Joe says. Quackity grimaces.

“Don’t talk like that. You’ll remind me of Wilbur. I don’t wanna fucking think about Wilbur, man. Fuck off.”

Joe shrugs. “Maybe we shouldn’t play blackjack.”

“Please.”

They’re both quiet for a moment. Joe plays with his drink. It’s a really nice whiskey; he doesn’t normally get whiskey this nice. It’s on the house, apparently, so he supposes it makes sense; he doesn’t normally visit places that would call themselves “the house”, either.

“It’s almost like we’re in Vegas, so I feel like I should say poker,” Joe says.

“Almost? We’re better,” Quackity says, something almost bitter coloring his tone as he does. Huh.

“Well, it doesn’t snow in Vegas,” Joe says. “I’m pretty sure that’s a desert.”

“And we’re not?”

“It’s snowing.”

Quackity’s quiet for a moment.

“You’re an entertainer, right? That’s what you call yourself, isn’t it? Sometimes, man, you’ve gotta put on a fucking party. A fucking show. Sometimes, you’ve gotta build a desert in a tundra.”

“Or a pinball machine in an ocean,” Joe says sagely.

“What?” Quackity says.

“Well, it’s the only place I was going to have enough space,” Joe says.

“You’re a fucking lunatic. No wonder you managed to beat Wilbur. Sure,” Quackity says.

Joe pauses to think about that one. “I don’t know if that’s a compliment,” he says, finally.

“It’s not,” Quackity says.

“Oh. Uh. Ouch, I guess…?”

Quackity throws his head back and cackles. “Pick a game, man.”

“How do you feel about gin rummy?” Joe says after a moment.

“In a casino?” Quackity says.

“You said we could pick. We’re in the back. And, uh, gotta say, not normally much of a—casinos aren’t my thing.”

Quackity shakes his head. “Yeah, sure, why not then. Let’s play some fucking gin rummy!”

And he deals a hand.

[verdemint]

Valentino Rossi about courage in Motogp (2009)

Translation oui!

I: "And courage? You must need courage (implied: to ride a bike)..."

V: "The courage is there. Courage is very important in our sport, but I think of it as having "bonuses"... like in a deck of cards you have four jokers, so you have four jokers in a season and those four times you can risk it and risk a lot, but if u go all the time beyond your limit then ... one time it's gonna go wrong"

[bakudekublogblog]

izuku didn’t just have to see katsuki’s dead body, he also had to see the fucking all might card right next to him. physical proof that katsuki always had a tender spot in his heart for izuku and their childhood together. evidence that katsuki fucking LOVED HIM THIS WHOLE TIME and now it’s TOO LATE. it’s actually so devastatingly romantic and fucking tragic. izuku really only finds out katsuki loved him all along when he thinks he’s lost him forever.

[ivorysodapop]

Lefties

[rearranging-deck-chairs]

i love rio's look from the 18th century, it's so much gentler, and i like the contrast between that green and the black she has now bc i expect as death she just reflects how people view her, right? and agatha's view on death is fucking furious, she hates death, so death hates her. she pursues agatha bc agatha runs. agatha does this to herself

[onewingedangels]

what the fuck is this listing.........

[therapycards]

The Secrets of Your Financial Flow with a "Money Talks" deck 💸

Sometimes, we feel like our financial flow is stuck, but we can’t quite figure out why. That’s where our "Money Talks" deck comes in 🏆!

Each pair of cards is designed to help you identify the blockages in your financial journey.

The first card in each pair presents a visual association that sheds light on what might be holding you back. The second card offers a powerful phrase on how to overcome that challenge and move forward.

Take a moment to choose a pair of cards and reflect on what they reveal about your financial situation. What steps can you take to improve your financial flow? Let the cards guide you towards clarity and action ⭐!

#MoneyTalks #FinancialFlow #MetaphoricalCards #SelfReflection #metaphorcards #psychology #FinancialFreedom #MindsetShift #financialgame #PersonalGrowth #UnlockYourPotential #WealthMindset #coaching #InnerWisdom #FollowForMore #metaphoriccards #financialmindset

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[captain-jimmy]

Ihate itwhen curly smiles. I hate it wgen he speaks. I hate itxwhen he laughsm I hate it when he looks at me. I hatebthe way he says my name. Heslike if Baker-Miller pink was aperson. It pissesme offwhen hexalms me down

[spirited-splashes]

Decided that this drawing deserves its own post.

[epitomees]

[clownprince]

i didn't realize this until i was rereading zdarsky's run a while ago, but the designs of the jokers here aren't random; the one on the left is the design from the killing joke, the middle is joker war, and the right is from batman beyond: return of the joker -- or, in other words: past, present, future (past/present/future is a significant theme in zdarsky's batman works so far) which also might be why the left joker calls him batman and the middle calls him bruce (it's post-identity reveal).