#minor victories

[lordsardine]

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[cyallowitz]

Goal Post: Stressed and Tired

I was tempted to skip doing a goal post for the first time since I began them.  Then, I realized that I had nothing else to talk about. This was just an exhausting, rough week that has life me incredibly stressed.  It’s gotten to the point where I’m getting body itches and feeling sick.  No fever, oxygen issues, or anything more than being tired.  There’s a cough that only shows up when I start…

[thejoyofviolentmovement]

New Audio: Slowdive Shares Woozy and Slow-Burning "skin in the game"

New Audio: Slowdive Shares Woozy and Slow-Burning "skin in the game" @slowdiveband @neilhalstead @RachelAGoswell @DeadOceans @pitchperfectpr

Deriving their name from a dream that that their co-founder Neil Halstead (vocals, guitar) had once had, and “Slowdive,” a single written and recorded by co-founder Rachel Goswell’s (vocals, guitars) favorite band, Siouxsie and the Banshees, the Reading, Berkshire, UK-based shoegazer band Slowdive, which is currently comprised of its co-founders Halstead and Goswell, along with Nick Chaplin…

[lyssq]

If I had a penny for every book about a boy of noble birth who watched his whole family be killed in front of him and narrowly avoided death himself, ran away and hid in an orphanage before someone unaware of his true identity recruits him into the regime that murdered his family (said regime presents the idea of everyone being equal while in reality being deeply flawed) and now has to work alongside people who would likely kill him if they knew who he really was, I’d have two pennies, which isn’t a lot but it’s weird that it happened twice

[qqueenofhades]

Going to hazard it's not a great sign for your obvious party nominee when a substantially non-zero portion of your own party's voters come out to make a point of informing everyone that they are not voting for you, even if they have done so multiple times previously, and pledge to support the incumbent president of the opposite party if/when you win the nomination.

[brambletakato]

MINOR WIN: no layton game but in exchange sebastian debeste has the worst localized name and its unchangeable

[mariathechosen1]

“Sweden didn’t deserve to win-“

Literally shut the fuck up.

[wonder-worker]

A.J Pollard’s biography on Edward IV was so cringe lol (generic; minor but frustrating inaccuracies; intensely judgmental at times and oddly dismissive at others while never considering the broader context; entirely diminished and trivialized Elizabeth Woodville as both queen and wife of his main subject in the name of "defending" her; created a false dichotomy between Edward and Henry VII’s styles of ruling and lauded the latter at the former’s expense even though Henry literally followed Edward’s example for the very things Pollard was criticizing Edward for; had a downright nonsensical and thoroughly misleading conclusion about Edward’s legacy & Richard’s usurpation that was based entirely on hindsight, Pollard's own assumptions, and the complete downplaying Richard’s agency and actions to emphasize what Pollard wrongly and misleadingly claimed were Edward's so-called 'failings', etc, etc)

I wanted to buy his book on Henry V but after reading this shitshow and the synopsis of that book, im guessing it's going to be 10x worse, so...no thanks

[tutyayilmazz]

🚨 from january 1st 2024, russian and belarussian gymnasts will be able to complete if they are authorized according to these criteria

very intrigued how they will evaluate the criteria

surely this must have been in motion before but announcing this now is very much like oh we don't wanna ban israelis WHICH ARE ACTIVELY MILITARY PERSONEL so maybe some russians can compete lmao

full pdf stating that they must wear light blue, music must not contain references to their country, etc. is here

[pippin-pippout]

Laboon’s story transitioned beautifully into the tale of the Rumbar pirates.

They didn’t even make it halfway round. They’re all dead by two years.

The death of Yorkie, their captain, by plague was not what I was expecting. Sailing him off on their ship, turned funeral boat, in the light of the setting sun to the tune of the sailors song.

And then the crew, knowing they’re dying of poison, surrounded by the bodies of those already dead, recording the same song to give to Laboon so he remembers them happily. As the voices fade out as they die one by one.

“Quartet. Trio. Duet. Solo… why is the accompaniment the last to go?”

Cutting between them, the party in the present day, and Brook stranded where he hallucinates their happy times in his loneliness.

The Rumbar pirates who make crying children laugh.

Why do these side stories break my heart?

[cynically-optomistic]

I don’t actually believe there is equal blame between a government who keeps coming back to the negotiating table and a government that executes its “leverage” (human beings, children and siblings and parents) out of spite. I will never judge someone for how they choose to express or direct their anger but there cannot be equal blame, and pretending there is does nothing.

[vivenecii]

I'm oh so bad at being back

At least now my side hobby is bookbinding Bridgman's Constructive Anatomy with no proper tools and prior bookbinding experience, so we're going in the right direction

[theskeletontarot]

SIX OF CANES

The Six of Canes is a card of victory, recognition, and the sweet taste of success after a hard-fought battle. In The Skeleton Tarot Deck, this card captures the moment when a figure returns home, parades through town wearing the adornments of their achievements. It's saying, your efforts have paid off and you stand tall, knowing that you’ve overcome obstacles and earned your place in the spotlight. It’s a card of triumph, where the struggles of the Five of Canes have been left behind, and the path ahead is clear and bright.

When the Six of Canes appears, it’s a sign that you’re on the right track, that your hard work and determination have brought you to a place of achievement. This isn’t just about personal victory—it’s also about being recognized by others, receiving the accolades and appreciation that come from a job well done. Whether it’s in your personal life, career, or creative endeavors, this card signals a moment of success, a time to bask in the glow of your accomplishments.

But the Six of Canes isn’t just about individual triumph. It’s also a reminder that success is sweeter when it’s shared. This card encourages you to acknowledge the community that supported you along the way, to recognize the collective effort that helped you reach this point. It’s a moment to celebrate not just for yourself, but with others, to lift up those around you and share the joy of victory.

In the context of community and change, the Six of Canes speaks to the power of collective success. It’s a reminder that true victory isn’t just about one person standing tall—it’s about lifting others as you rise, creating a ripple effect of positivity and progress. This card invites you to use your success as a platform for inspiring and supporting others, turning your individual win into a collective celebration.

WHAT TO CONSIDER WHEN THE SIX OF CANES APPEARS:

Victory and Recognition: Reflect on the successes you’ve achieved. How can you celebrate your accomplishments while remaining humble and grateful?

Community Celebration: Consider the role others played in your journey. How can you share your success with those who supported you?

Leadership and Inspiration: With recognition comes responsibility. How can you use your success to inspire and uplift others?

Sustaining Success: Think about how you can maintain the momentum of your achievements. What steps can you take to build on your current success?

WHEN THE SIX OF CANES SHOWS UP IN REVERSE:

Delayed Recognition: Reversed, the Six of Canes may indicate that recognition is coming, but it might be delayed or not as grand as expected. How can you remain patient and keep pushing forward?

Self-Doubt: You might be questioning your worthiness of success. Are you downplaying your achievements? How can you acknowledge your hard work and give yourself the credit you deserve?

Isolation in Victory: Perhaps you’re enjoying success but feeling isolated. Are you sharing your victories with others, or are you standing alone on the podium?

Misuse of Power: Be mindful of how you use the recognition and success you’ve gained. Are you uplifting others or using your position for personal gain?

The Six of Canes is a card of triumph, recognition, and the joy that comes with success. It encourages you to celebrate your victories, both big and small, and to remember that success is even more meaningful when it’s shared. As you stand in your moment of glory, take a moment to lift others up, creating a wave of positive change that extends beyond your own achievements.

[viksalos]

ever since we figured out my husband, his sister, and his cousins are all autistic, the possibility that i married into an entirely autistic catholic family where all of the older adults are undiagnosed is kind of objectively hilarious tbh. everyone's autistic drives compel them to need a bunch of alone time but everyone's catholic cultural mores compel them to put family first and repress the hell out of themselves. no wonder they're all passive-aggressive as hell to each other all the time and got mad at me when i didn't pick up on how to do "family" that way. i literally did get catholic religious trauma-by-proxy lmfao

[augustine-orlov]

I'm going to be honest fellas, I do hope that the pro-hamas people would wake up soon and realize how harmful they have been to jewish people (especially in the diaspora), but I really doubt it.

And what hurt the most is a lot of these people who were close to me pretended to listen and take in what I said, but then would rt the most anti-semetic dogshit you can find on the internet. I realize no matter how much I talk, how much I try to extend knowledge and express what's happening here, my words will always fall on deaf ears.

Me and so many other jews have been helping to other minorities, always there to learn and listen and try to raise awarness to many social issues - but the second a jew speaks up about what they experience it's "propaganda". We can't even mention dead relatives or friends because somehow it's us "playing the victim" - it's always "your pain is valid" until you're jewish.

And it would be one thing if people were honest, just saying straight up "yes I'm anti-semetic" and we could have been spared so much pain - but it's the fact that some people would end years long, sometimes a whole decade long, friendships because suddenly it's not convenient being friends with jews. Suddenly, it's trendy to say that a terrorist organization is actually freedom fighters (but somehow they only fight for the freedom of their leaders having billions of dollars, funny how that works).

And maybe these old friends of mine will wake up one day, and realize that things went awry, but even if they reach out to me again (and I say again because someone almost woke up from the propaganda until it swallowed them again) - I do not want that hand extended towards me, as I don't feel safe being friends with people who instead of trying to understand - jumped to conclusions without even fact checking once.

And for all of those trying to understand how so many leftist activists got radicalized so fast - their activism comes from a place of wanting to hate someone, rather to show love and support to someone.

[clickerflight]

Whump week: It made you stronger

@week-of-whump

Masterlist

Part 6

Yooooo! Last one. This last bit was so good to write, and so cathartic to write. I know this was my story, I know what I did, but it still HURTS! Actually, if I need to cry on demand, I think about Ichimaru and it gets me every time.

Content: centipede monster whumper, ex slave whumpee, mention of minor death, mind control, grief, creepy whumper

.................................................

“So, this is where you ended up.”

Souka stood, weapons at his sides. He was grown now, older, wiser, and more powerful than he had been when he had last seen the woman standing in front of him. 

Leara, the lady of the household he had been a slave in. The lady of the household where his best friend had died in his arms. The lady of the household where, just that evening, all of the slaves had been freed. 

Souka was grown, now, and he was the kind of hero he had been named after. A slave who rose up to free others, and strike down the masters. 

“I almost didn’t recognize you,” she churred. “It’s good to see you again. You look quite well.”

He sneered at her. He had exhausted his voice already for the day while directing slaves to safety, and he very much doubted this woman knew any form of sign language. 

“What, nothing to say to me, oh great Souka?”

Souka simply lifted his weapons, ready to cut down another blight. 

“Oooh, how scary,” she said, and it hit Souka that she wasn’t begging like the other ones. She wasn’t groveling or ordering servants about. She simply smiled, and he noticed, not for the first time, that her teeth were sharper than they should be. 

Souka had been too young, too inexperienced to see it when he was 14. Now he could, though. 

The woman began to transform as she stepped forward, lengthening and segmenting. 

“You know, your namesake was my slave at one point, too. He escaped, much more on his own merit than the way you go away,” she hissed, her body becoming chitinous. Souka avoided her eyes. He knew what she was, now. Her body became longer and longer, awful clicking legs echoing on the walls as she circled the room, blocking the exits with her centipede body. 

“He came back, he rescued slave after slave,” she said, twisting and contorting to try and catch Souka’s eye so she could weave a spell over him. “Then he came here. To me. He was more prepared though.”

Souka struck. She flinched back, but he managed to sever a couple of legs. She screamed, twisting and striking at him, and he dodged quickly to the middle of the room, sword at the ready. 

“He was slower than you, I suppose,” she grumbled. “But you’ll fall, all the same. He came here and looked me in the eyes, declared that he was the savior of the slaves, but he was already mine. I suppose you’re a little smarter than him, hmmm? Or maybe you learned your lessons a bit better as a slave, not to look your betters in the eyes.”

Souka took a deep breath. He wouldn’t rise to her jibes. He stayed calm and rushed her again, this time getting in a deep cut on her body and dodging away as green blood oozed from the wound. 

Leara dove for him over and over again, only getting wounds for her efforts before she scuttled back, circling and guarding the exits again. 

“Oooooh, you’re little white haired friend would be so proud of you, wouldn’t he? He’s the one who named you, right?”

Souka didn’t flinch, he didn’t let a single tell show on his face that she was broaching a painful subject. 

“Ah, yes. Ichimaru. That was his name, right? He was older than you by a little, protective little thing. Sickly little thing. Did you know at that time that he was putting so much of his hope in you because he knew he wouldn’t make it out?”

Souka continued to study her for an opening, planning his next attacks, but her words stung. He hadn’t known at the time. He’d guessed at it later, but never let himself dwell on it.It had hurt too much.

 He had let Ichimaru build him up slowly over months, let himself hope that maybe there was more to the world than being a nameless slave who knew nothing but pain and work, and then-

“It’s always annoying when the slaves get sick. Their work slows down and whipping them at that point only loses me workers. And while that is annoying, it is almost fun. I like watching the moral sink even lower than it was before, watching everyone cry for the lost connections. Watching you, my little hopeless slave boy, weep over that cold dead body for hours was so much fun. You had really dared to think you’d be getting out of here. That you’d be something someday. And then you lost everything once again.”

Souka could feel his hands shaking. He remembered that night. He remembered the pain and the anguish. He still cried at night, sometimes, thinking about Ichimaru. If only he could have survived just a little bit longer. Then Anisha would have taken both of them in and he would have gotten help. 

“I heard you and your ilk were looking for where his body was buried. Wanted to give him a proper burial, hmmm?” Leara asked, still trying to catch Souka’s narrowed eyes. “Don’t worry, I took good care of it. I am a very big centipede, no? I need a lot of food.”

Souka didn’t even think. Red took his vision and he attacked, desperately needing to inflict pain on this evil creature, make her feel even a fraction of the pain he’d been through. 

She was ready for him, though. She struck faster than he could process with the grief flowing through him in waves, and the best he could do was close his eyes as she wrapped her horrible segmented body around him, pinning his arms to his sides and forcing him to drop his weapons. Her awful legs poked at him as she squeezed him, keeping him from moving as they parted his hair so his eyes were clear of everything else. 

He flinched when a leg touched his face, the end covered in tiny hooks that pulled unpleasantly at his skin. 

“And look at all of you now. That pain made you stronger. Now you’re the hero Souka 2.0! I could make you my warrior! And since you absorbed the Torsha amulet you will last even longer than the last one,” she said with a croon. “Come on, pet. Open your eyes.”

Souka shook as he tried to free himself, the legs tapping and pulling at his face, trying to pry his eyes open. There was only so much strength to be found in eyelids, and the prying little legs were winning. Souka rolled his eyes up as much as he could, following his eyelids, trying to pry his head away from the terrifying grasp Leara had on him. 

“Come on now, child,” Leara said, annoyed. “It won’t hurt. I expect it would be a relief. You won’t have to think about anything. I can take the pain away.”

Souka tried to find his voice, but all that came out was a wheezing gasp, his throat aching at the effort. He writhed again when his fingers came across something wet. It was one of the wounds from before and he dug his fingers in, tearing it open farther. 

Leara screamed, dropping him on instinct and he scooped one of his swords up, turning and slashing across her belly. 

“You filthy little beast!” she shrieked, striking at him. Her blow was ineffective, bouncing off of his impervious skin and he held his ground, watching for her head out of the corner of his eye. She rounded on him, ready to wrap around him again and he ducked to the side, swinging his sword. 

With a clean snick sound, her head fell to the ground and her screaming stopped immediately. Her body skittered around the room still, searching and twitching as it went. After about 20 chopped off limbs, the body collapsed to the floor, unable to support its weight. 

Souka stared at his fallen enemy. He mouthed and signed to himself; to the body on the floor. 

I should have come back sooner. 

@whumpsday