#I will say that I . don’t have the effort to check if these campaigns are verified before I answer the asks

[dykeza]

Hello, I am Hanan from Gaza, a mother of three children. I need your help if you can

Please donate to save my life and the life of my family🇵🇸💔

Of course here is a link to the fundraiser

https://gofund.me/3c368bc9

Help if you can <3

[covenofagatha]

The Mile High Club

Jennifer Barkley x reader

When flying back to Washington, DC with your boss, Jennifer Barkley, she comes up with an interesting way to relax when there's some turbulence

Word count: 3.4k

Warnings: fingering, semi-public sex

“Ugh, why are there so many people here?” your boss, Jennifer Barkley, scoffs when the driver drops you off at the Indianapolis airport. 

After spending the last six weeks in Pawnee, Indiana on Bobby Newport’s campaign for city counsel, you and her are finally getting to go home back to Washington, DC. It’s been the first time in her career that she’s lost a campaign, but even she has to admit that Leslie Knope and Ben Wyatt did a really good job. 

It was the most engaged in a campaign you’ve ever seen Jen, the most challenged, and you’ve been working with her for about a year now. It was exciting to watch her strategize like this, hot even. You’ve always had a thing for powerful, older women, and that was the definition of Jen Barkley. She oozes confidence and she’s not afraid of how good at her job she is. 

The two of you have a pretty good relationship — you’re actually the longest assistant she’s ever had, so clearly you’re doing something right. The easy banter between you is one of your favorite parts of the job. 

You glance at her as you take her suitcase out of the trunk and then yours, putting them on the ground and groaning with the effort. She’s wearing a navy blue blazer over a striped pink and gray button-down, with a gray pencil skirt, her signature string of pearls around her neck. Her brown hair is perfectly fluffed and curly, with makeup accentuating her lips and eyes. She looks good. 

“Well, I offered for us to fly out of the Pawnee airport, but you said, and I quote, ‘I don’t trust Pawnee to have planes that aren’t just tiny steel death in the sky—’”

“‘— that will fall apart if you breathe too loudly,’” Jen finishes with a chuckle at her own joke at the small town’s expense. She’s been making a lot of them the entire trip. “Yeah, I remember. I just still can’t believe the private jet had routine maintenance scheduled for today and now we have to fly with them. God, if only Knope and Wyatt hadn’t insisted on that recount.” 

By “them,” you know she means normal people who don’t run congressional campaigns for some of the most powerful people in the country and don’t just have access to private transportation whenever they want it. 

And without the recount, Jen and you would’ve been done a few days earlier. You still remember her little meltdown where she collapsed on the table, whining about wanting to leave, and it brings a smile to your lips. 

You roll your eyes fondly and grab both of the handles of the suitcase. “Well, we’re still in first class, so you won’t have to sit with all the peasants,” you tease. 

Jen points at you and moves her finger back and forth for emphasis. “That…that was a good one,” she decides and you can’t help but feel warm with her approval. And then she swats at your hand that is holding onto her bag. “I can wheel my own suitcase, sweetheart.” 

You mutter a half-hearted apology and follow her through the doors of the airport and go to the counter to check your luggage. Jen starts digging through her purse and you raise an eyebrow and wait for her to ask you for something. 

It’s always fun to watch your boss go as long as she can without willingly asking for help, even if you have exactly what she needs. Her tenacity and stubbornness often go hand-in-hand. 

She huffs exasperatedly before looking up and giving you a prize-winning smile. “Honey, do you happen to know where I put my—”

You reach into your pocket and pull out her boarding pass, reaching it out with a smirk. 

“Thanks, doll,” she says and snatches it from you before examining it like you may have given her the wrong one. You always keep an extra copy of all her documents on you at all times, just in case situations like this ever arise. “God, I cannot wait to be home and not sleep in sheets that smell like mothballs.” 

Giggling despite yourself, you think back to the small motel rooms the two of you had to sleep in. “It wasn’t all bad. JJ’s Diner was pretty cute.” 

“Yeah, after I bought them that cappuccino maker,” she retorts. “Everyone there was a moron. Did you know one of them told me they voted for Leslie because I said she was a dog murderer? Another thought I was Bobby’s sister. As if he and I could possibly share any of the same genes. Did you see him try to sound out ‘Connecticut’?”

It makes you snort. People in Pawnee were surely not the brightest. 

“I almost pity Leslie,” she sighs as the two of you move up in line. “You could not pay me enough money to trade places with her. I love my life way too much.” 

You laugh. “That’s good to hear, because I need someone to boss me around.” It’s meant to be a light quip, but there’s no mistaking the innuendo and Jen smirks before looking you up and down. You’re wearing leggings and an oversized T-shirt — nothing special, especially compared to her. But you’d rather be comfortable for the flight, rather than look as professional as you usually do. 

“Don’t worry, hon. I’d bring you with me,” she reassures with a wink and your cheeks heat up, breath catching in your throat. She’s just being nice, you think. You are a good assistant. 

After you check your bags, you walk to the gate with Jen next to you, typing something one-handed on her phone and occasionally bumping into you. Boarding is in about thirty minutes, so you tell Jen you’re going to get something to eat. You end up choosing a soft-serve stand and get her a cup too. 

When you get back to her, she’s now reading a newspaper that she must have bought, and doesn’t look up at you until your arm starts to get tired holding out her ice cream. 

“Well, aren’t you sweet,” she purrs and takes it from you, ignoring the spoon and just licking a stripe straight through the swirl. Your eyes widen — you feel a tug in your stomach and you rush to sit down next to her and think about anything else. 

You busy yourself by scrolling on your phone until it’s time to board, and then you settle into your seat in first class next to Jen. You’ve only flown first class a few times, but you’re not sure you could ever go back to sitting in economy. Your seats are spacious and luxurious, with fancy screens in the backs of the chairs in front of you. There’s an armrest between you and your boss, with a piece that could slide up to separate you, but you make no moves toward it and neither does Jen. 

The flight attendant comes around and gets your drink orders, a coffee for Jen and a hot chocolate for you. She snorts when your drink comes back with a mound of whipped cream and you take a long sip, appreciatively humming when the warmth spreads through your body. 

“Oh, honey, you’ve got a little—” Jen says when you turn to look at her, and you scrunch your eyebrows before she cups your chin and swipes her thumb across your upper lip. 

You freeze and your heart rate spikes. 

When she pulls her hand back, there’s a smear of whipped cream on her thumb. She smirks before sucking it into her mouth, never breaking eye contact. You feel your body get warm and you shiver. 

“Are you cold?” she asks. Before you can tell her that you’re fine, she’s waved the flight attendant over and asked for a blanket. It’s touching to have this badass woman you’re always chasing after trying to take care of you. 

The stewardess brings a heated blanket over and Jen helps you tuck it around yourself despite you muttering that you’re really okay. 

And then the safety video plays on the screen and the plane takes off. You’ve never been great with flying and you try to distract your anxious mind with a movie. 

It works until the plane starts to shake. Your hands fly to the armrests and dig your fingers into them as if that will steady it. It doesn’t; if anything, it just gets worse and a small whimper escapes your lips. 

Jen, who is reading a different newspaper now, glances over at you and must see the panic evident on your face, because she lays a hand on top of yours. “Are you okay?” There’s an uncharacteristic gentleness to her voice and you wonder if she’s going soft from the exhaustion of having been in Pawnee for six weeks.  

“Yeah,” you say through clenched teeth. There’s another rough patch and the plane dips and you sharply inhale. You expect her to laugh, maybe make fun of you, but her eyes are understanding and she starts to stroke her fingers up and down your forearm. 

Is she trying to comfort you? You swallow roughly as her warmth seeps through your skin. “It’s okay,” she coos. “It’s going to be fine.” 

You nod and try to repeat the words to yourself until you believe them, but the plane shakes again and you shudder. “Oh, god,” you whisper, feeling a little sick. Jen is frowning next to you and closes the little cabin door on the aisle, essentially hiding the two of you from view of anyone else. 

“Just breathe. Try to relax, honey,” she says soothingly, and then apparently decides she’s being too nice, because she tosses her hair over her shoulder and huffs haughtily. “Don’t let a bit of wind scare you. There’s so many other things to be more afraid of. Like me, if you don’t relax.” 

It makes you smile a little and your muscles loosen ever so slightly. The turbulence stops and you’re able to breathe normally. 

Seemingly satisfied, Jen turns back to her newspaper and removes her hand off your arm. You miss her touch, but brush it off and start scrolling through the screen to find a movie to watch. 

The plane starts to shake violently and a terrified gasp slips out of your lips, hands scrambling for purchase and your legs tensing against the seat in front of you. This is it. 

You can practically hear Jen roll her eyes and she gives you a pointed look. 

“I’m sorry,” you say, breathing heavily. “How are you so calm?” 

Jen shrugs. “I’m exceptional,” she states matter-of-factly. Her fingers reach over to lay on your forearm again and you’re able to feel yourself relax. Just slightly, but she feels it too. “Is that helping?” she murmurs. 

“Yeah,” you rasp and she smirks. 

Her fingers trail up your arm and then back down, and slide into your lap and ghost over your thigh. All the air leaves your lungs. “Do you want some more help?” 

Surely she can’t be offering what you think she is. But there’s not a single hint of jest on her face with her eyebrow arched and her pupils blown out. “Jen—” you swallow, your mouth suddenly so dry. 

“You can say no,” she reminds you. She lifts her hand off the blanket and hovers over it, showing that she’ll accept whatever you say. 

But you couldn’t even dream of rejecting her. “Please,” you say, voice suddenly full of heat, and your boss looks absolutely overjoyed. 

She drags part of the bunched up blanket covering the lower half of your body over herself, so if anyone were to look over the top of the cabin when she sneaks a hand under the cover and rests it on your leg, they wouldn’t be able to see. 

The plane rocks and dips, but you couldn’t care less because Jen has just dipped into the waistband of your leggings, her cold hands making you hiss. 

“Why don’t you put on a movie?” she suggests, her hand moving lower and cupping you over your underwear. You can feel yourself starting to get wet and you nod, tapping on the screen and clicking on the first thing it opens to. The film starts, but Jen’s fingers have found your clit and you can think of very little else. 

She rubs around it for a bit, teasing and feeling the crotch of your panties grow wetter while you squirm and try to get more stimulation. 

“You got to stop being so obvious, honey,” she whispers, ducking her head down to scrape her teeth against the top of your ear before nibbling on your lobe. You can’t stop the small moan that escapes you and she presses down on your clit. “Do you want the flight attendants to come over and see what a slut you’re being?” 

Heat tears through your body and you clench around nothing. You’d like to point out that this was all her idea, but you don’t want to risk her pulling away to teach you a lesson for talking back, which is exactly what Jennifer Barkley would do. 

So you shake your head and try to act like you’re watching the movie, but your eyes keep straying down to the blanket. 

She tuts lowly in your ear before sliding your underwear to the side and you jump when her fingers trace through your folds. “God, you like this a lot, don’t you,” she observes, amusement leaking into her voice. You blush and nod, softly whimpering when she teases your clit without touching it. 

“Jen, please, I need you,” you whine, and she chuckles humorlessly before pushing a finger inside you. She’s met with absolutely no resistance, and your walls bear down around her immediately, drawing a small gasp from her mouth. You’re vaguely aware of the sound of the drink cart coming down the aisle. 

She doesn’t move at first, just enjoying the feeling of you being around her, and it isn’t until you choke out another plea that she starts to slowly withdraw and then thrust back in. 

The flight attendant comes into view over the cabin walls and by the looks of it, she’s about two rows ahead of you. Your head tilts toward Jen, who is already watching you, a wicked glint in her eye. Her thumb expertly rubs at your clit while her one finger fucks you at a leisurely pace. It’s not enough to get you there, but the possibility of being caught and the way Jen’s eyes are burning into your face, watching every little twitch, are helping build the tension in your stomach. 

The stewardess stops at the row in front of yours and if she looked to her right just a little, she would see your knuckles straining as your fingers grip the armrests to try and stop yourself from reacting. 

“Better behave, honey,” Jen whispers dangerously, tongue flicking out against your earlobe. It makes you shiver and clench around her finger. “Don’t want her to know how naughty you’re being right now.” 

She smirks at your muffled whimper and finally gives your clit the direct stimulation you’ve been looking for and you have to clamp a hand over your mouth to stop any other noises from crawling out. 

The flight attendant pushes the cart forward and pauses, looking at you and Jen over the cabin door with a warm smile. Jen pulls her finger out of you and you bite your lip at the sudden emptiness. 

“Hi ladies, can I get you anything else?” she asks, looking at Jen first. 

“Oh, I’m perfect, thank you,” Jen gushes, and then turns to you. You can feel both Jen and the flight attendant’s eyes on you. 

You nod in agreement and open your mouth to answer, but Jen chooses that exact moment to shove two fingers inside you, and you’ve never heard the sound that comes out of you before. You see her stifle a laugh in your peripheral vision and you plaster what you hope is a convincing smile onto your face, but probably looks more like a grimace. “I’m good,” you squeak. 

Jen’s fingers curl roughly and your hips jolt. 

The flight attendant looks like she wants to say something, but purses her lips tightly and moves on. The second she’s out of earshot, Jen laughs cruelly in your ear. “That was close, honey,” she mocks and scissors her fingers to stretch you out and you hiss. “Do you think she knows that you’re taking my fingers like such a good slut? That this was the only way I could get you to relax?” 

She presses her thumb against your clit and starts to thrust into you fast and you have to bite down on your hand to keep from crying out. The pleasure starts to spread from your pussy to your stomach to all over and you feel your orgasm building. 

“Jen, I — please, fuck,” you groan when she twists her fingers. Your hands are scrambling for purchase on the armrests, hips rolling as much as they can, and you can feel your head start to spin. 

“God, hon, your cunt feels so good around me,” she says conversationally and your head falls back against the seat, clenching violently. “So warm, so wet. Think I might have you ride my fingers while I have to sit in all those boring meetings.” 

Your whimper is one of a wounded animal and she grins, flashing her perfect teeth at you. It turns you on even more, how perfectly composed she is, while you’re a fucking mess in the chair next to her, a few miles above the ground, in a plane where you could get caught at any moment. 

“Please, I’m so close,” you beg quietly, one of your hands clasping onto hers over the blanket. You can feel her muscles move as she thrusts into you and you gasp, heat searing through you. 

Jen leans over and nudges your head to the side with her own before sucking on your neck. You keen softly and your chest rises and falls rapidly, your orgasm steadily approaching. 

You slouch down even further in your seat so that her fingers can reach deeper inside you and it makes your eyes roll back in your head. “So good,” you whisper and Jen huffs in agreement. 

Her thumb speeds up on your clit and her fingers hits the spot that makes sparks erupt in your cunt each time and you’re so fucking close —

“Cum for me, honey,” she rasps, and it’s strangely what makes you finally cum isn’t the way her fingers curl particularly deliciously when your hips meet her thrust perfectly, it’s not the way her thumb presses harder on your clit when she circles it again, it’s not the way her tongue draws a hot stripe up your throat — it’s the flustered, pink tint in her cheeks and her slightly uneven breathing and the way her eyes dart from yours down to your lips and then back up. 

It’s knowing that she’s affected by you falling apart for her: that's the final nail in the coffin, and your pussy walls spasm around her fingers, pleasure erupting through your trembling body while you sink your teeth into your bottom lip to stop yourself from crying out. 

She fucks you through your orgasm, whispering what a good girl you are, and you finally slump back into your chair, feeling ruined and much more relaxed. 

“Did that help?” Jen asks, wearing a playful smirk. 

You laugh at the sheer ridiculousness of her question. Of course it fucking helped. “Yeah, I’d say so.” And you’d like nothing more than to kiss the smug look right off her face. 

The pilot comes on the intercom and announces that you’ll soon be starting your departure into DC and you breathe a sigh of relief. 

“Thank you,” you say, for getting you through your anxiety and fear about the turbulence, and for fucking you. Something you’ve been wanting since you started working for her. 

Jen knows exactly what you mean and she presses a quick kiss to your forehead. “Anytime.” 

@lostbutlovely33 @diorrxckstar @whoreforolderfictionalwomen  @katekathry @onemansdreamisanothermansdeath @tayasmellsapples @natashashill @mybraininblood @mysticalmoonlight7  @cactuslover2600 @loveem0mo @readysteddiero-nance @lonelyhalfwitch @lesbiantortilla @crescendoofstars @sol-in-wonderland @ahsfan05 @gbab09 @sasheemo @agathaharness @live-laugh-love-lupone @chiar4anna @fuckedupforkhahn @lowlyjelly

[kyra45]

Palestinian fundraiser method info update

(Palestinian fundraiser method info update)

Hi everyone! Prior to the scam blogs original starting up, I had always stated that PayPal or gogetfunding was considered suspicious due to Palestine fundraisers generally being a GoFundMe link since at that time it was commonly used. While this was originally true, I’d like to take time now to explain that it has now changed slightly due to GoFundMe freezing campaigns and Palestinians having to change to other methods of fundraising.

Now, legitimate/vetted/verified Palestinian fundraisers may use PayPal or gogetfunding as an alternative method to raise funds when gfm freezes their original fundraiser. You may have seen a few of these already, such as 90-ghost (Ahmed) using PayPal to raise funds for his brother or rubashabansblog using gogetfunding after the original gfm was frozen.

However, even with all this, I’d like to explain that there is still ways to check if a fundraiser is ran by the original gfm user and isn’t someone impersonating it as I’ve seen happen before. Here is a quick guide to making sure everything is all right:

- Check around to make sure the fundraiser is accurate to the original and is posted by the original fundraising account or at least someone who is related to them.

- Ensure the funds being requested matches the original fundraiser itself and isn’t a relatively low (For example, $450 itself is not an accurate goal at all.)

- If both of the above isn’t useable due to the account being brand new with very few posts, search the post text to see if it may be from a gfm and see if there’s any past blogs that may have used it that was previously took down. If the original gfm is still up and doesn’t seem linked to a tumblr blog, take caution as the account may be impersonating it by having a PayPal account with no mention of the active gfm and have a goal completely different and lower than the original.

Please understand that sometimes language barriers are a problem and it may lead to misunderstandings due to translation issues. Most blogs will continuously post about their fundraiser though some might not. Others will reuse asks by other accounts because it’s easier for them and they are not fluent in English. Images may be shared across the same family as well.

Now remember, not all Palestinian fundraisers are scams and there is numerous ways to ensure that you support vetted ones such as lists like this that show accounts/fundraisers that have been checked out and confirmed as legit. If someone says they’re vetted, you can easily search around to make sure that they have been.

PayPal and gogetfunding are no longer by default means of someone being a scam, but searching usernames/asks should still show if anything’s been previously recorded by other blogs. Please don’t call a fundraiser a scam on the spot just because it’s Palestinian. You can put effort into searching instead of assuming all of them are scams.

If anyone has additional information to add on, please do!

—

Additionally, please make sure that the donations you send are going through a real website and not one of those that is impersonating trusted ones.

[batboyblog]

I fundamentally disagree with your take that any future/ongoing users of TikTok are supporting or enabling trump.

We don’t use TikTok or any other social platform because of the CEO. We use social media because of the communities we form and love.

Obviously trump wants it back because it helped his election campaign, but that doesn’t negate every positive collective action or community that formed on the app. Everything good also has bad, because as the saying goes, there is no ethical consumption under capitalism. We can try to be good, but we can’t only support ethical companies.

Also, what about international users? I’m Australian, and trump impacts Australian politics directly and indirectly, but does me using TikTok support him? It’s still an independent company.

Given the ban was done by congress, not the executive, I have every reason to believe that a Harris/democrat office would also make efforts to stop the ban. It’s easy political points.

I'm gonna try to be nice, which given my mood today, the impending Trumpalypse and the hostage release today have me in a bad mood.

Sooooo I have to reject the idea that helping re-elect Trump could ever be balanced out by any other "good", if such good even exists, that any app, person, or organization does.

before anyone jumps in to smugly tell me they're not an American so Trump being the American President doesn't matter, I'll remind you, we all live on the same planet. One thats getting warmer? in case you hadn't noticed. 2024 was the first year on record to breach the 1.5 degree warming mark that is very bad news. President Biden passed the biggest climate action bill that any government anywhere on earth ever ever has passed. Trump has pledged to repeal that law, and also hold back all the money in it not already spent.

as you can see under Biden we're on goal through 2030, and then more and different policies would be needed to get us where we need to go, which Biden team in the dying days of his administration has set not that Trump will follow through.

so point being helping re-elect Trump might have doomed the planet so idk about anything "good" TikTok could possibly do to make up for being Responsible or the single biggest climate disaster in human history.

any ways, as a Jew when I think of TikTok I think antisemitism

"Jewish teens say life on TikTok comes with anti-Semitism" 2020

"Sliding Through: Spreading Antisemitism on TikTok by Exploiting Moderation Gaps" 2023

"How fast does TikTok send users down the antisemitic rabbit hole?" 2024

being on the internet right now as a Jewish person is fucking wild, buck wild, seeing people in their teens and 20s say NAZI, old school, 1940s Nazi shit on-line, in videos with their faces, it is everywhere and TikTok is some of the worst of it.

on top of which TikTok is spoon feeding massive amount of disinformation to users all the time, from mental health, to Covid Vaccines, to conspiracy theories that are effecting the real world. And studies show its actively hurting teens, pushing them toward self harm

speaking of Australia, its very clear that China is REALLY interested in influencing your country seeking to shift Australian public opinion against Taiwan and in favor of China, as well as push the country toward a more isolationist view. Also they're using data from not just TikTok but other apps to track people, and actively kidnap Chinese nationals in Australia who offend Xi's government. That's a wider problem than just TikTok of course, but it's super fucking scary.

So sorry the app you like is getting the axe in the US? I guess? but short form video in and of itself might be bad for your health. Apps like TikTok don't allow you to do what I've done here, offer links and data to back up what I'm saying so fact checking and accountability is basically 0. Finally there's a lot of evidence that TikTok has put its finger on the scale to push propaganda for Trump, for Xi and generally destabilize the world.

finally, what community? watching videos fed to you by a computer isn't a connection, its certainly not a conversation.

oh also "there is no ethical consumption under capitalism" is not some magical spell, it doesn't do away with the need to do good in the world, its meant to say don't let perfect be the enemy of good, whats the least bad option, nothing is flawless, but that doesn't mean going on to the app who's parting message to America was "big good daddy Trump gonna come save us" like fuck man thats bad

[vetted-gaza-funds]

hey i'm not sure who to go to for this, but do you have resources on vetting a specific gofundme? most of the "vetted" ones i see on here just link to a tumblr post as "proof." my friend is trying to convince me to donate thousands to a gofundme that has a "deadline" of overnight, to me it seems scammy. i thought people in gaza can't access money immediately? can't find any other info about the fund online.

tl;dr below

Re: how to check up on a specific fundraiser, a lot of organizations running verification efforts will keep a spreadsheet of fundraisers that you can search by name, campaign title, social media handles, etc. That’s what I do when checking campaigns that are new on tumblr, since sometimes they were verified by OOB or another org before making a blog here. You can check my pinned post for some links. You can also find websites and/or social media accounts for some of the verification efforts that will explain who they are and how they verify people.

The ones linking to tumblr posts as proof are doing so because certain users are known to be Palestinian Arabic speakers who are personally vetting fundraisers. el-shab-hussein, nabulsi, or 90-ghost vouching for a fundraiser means that they have spoken personally to the organizer, seen ID documents, cross checked socials/phone numbers, sometimes even called them on the phone in real time and heard the war planes overhead. Hussein and Nairuz keep a spreadsheet as well that is also linked in my pinned post. It’s the source for most verifications on this blog.

All I can say is that you’ll just have to read what you can about the person or organization who did the vetting and use your own judgment. That’s all the vetters are asking folks to do. If this is a fundraiser where you can’t seem to find a verification source at all, dm me at palms-upturned and I’ll try to see what I can find quickly since the deadline is so urgent.

Re: the deadline, off the top of my head I don’t know of a fund with an overnight/today deadline, but I have seen a lot of funds with multiple deadlines. Needing to raise x amount of money to evacuate a member of the family who is in most urgent need, needing to raise a certain amount by a certain day in order to ensure that an evacuating child can be accompanied by an adult family member, needing to meet the goal by a certain day to make sure that the whole family isn’t separated, or in Bilal’s case recently, because he was raising funds from Germany on a visa which was not renewed simply because he is Palestinian, and needed to meet the goal before potentially being deported to Palestine, where he would no longer be able to raise funds. It’s not necessarily unusual for people to set a very sudden deadline or even multiple ones. Emergencies are constantly happening and the banks and travel agencies are also trying to squeeze as much money out of people as possible.

When people set these deadlines and goal amounts, they are also trying to take into account things like how long it will take to access the funds and how much of a cut will be taken by all the third parties down the line. Honestly, if there’s something that needs clarifying, you can usually just talk to people. Ask the organizer or one of the users who have been keeping in touch with them and promoting the fundraiser with updates. These folks are trying to be as transparent as possible and stay connected with anyone who can help them. They’re not going to dodge your questions. And they can explain best what sort of time/money constraints apply to them specifically. It differs depending on the banking situation, number/age of family members, offers and/or ultimatums from the travel agency, etc.

But the truth is that you and me both don’t have the know-how to verify this sort of thing ourselves any more than we could verify whether or not someone has cancer or is living on the streets or any number of reasons people launch fundraisers. Any time you donate to a cause like this, you’re putting some amount of trust in the organizer, the platform, and the people promoting the fund. But never in my life have I donated to a crowdfund that has been put through such intense scrutiny and as many layers of verification as Gaza fundraisers right now. Platforms like GFM are requiring constant updates about every penny spent of raised funds, and it still doesn’t guarantee that people’s verified fundraisers won’t be nuked and refunded without any real explanation to anyone involved. I’ve had I think five or six donations to various fundraisers refunded back to me at this point when I didn’t even want a refund. Zionists are mass reporting Gaza funds and smearing both the families and the people who are verifying and promoting them. Scammers pretending to be Gazan are not going to have a remotely easy time of it. Things are engineered to be as difficult as possible for people actually in Gaza.

tl;dr— if you need help with finding an actual source of verification, since this seems to be an emergency, dm me at palms-upturned for assistance. Obviously can’t say if this campaign is legit without knowing which one it is. Otherwise, you can check my pinned post for a list of orgs/spreadsheets/master lists of verified campaigns that you can cross reference. If you need more info on who’s doing the vetting and how, find the website and/or socmed page for the person or organization. You can also usually ask organizers/the people helping promote their campaigns directly for clarification on anything that’s confusing. But considering the harsh discrimination against Palestinians on crowdfunding platforms like GFM and PayPal, and the extra scrutiny their fundraisers are subjected to, you’re at a pretty low risk of being scammed most of the time. Sudden deadlines aren’t uncommon because emergencies are happening every day and the banks and travel agencies are squeezing as much money as possible out of people.

[dailyadventureprompts]

Homebrew Mechanic: Meaningful Research

Being careful about when you deliver information to your party is one of the most difficult challenges a dungeonmaster may face, a balancing act that we constantly have to tweak as it affects the pacing of our campaigns.

That said, unlike a novel or movie or videogame where the writers can carefully mete out exposition at just the right time, we dungeonmasters have to deal with the fact that at any time (though usually not without prompting) our players are going to want answers about what's ACTUALLY going on, and they're going to take steps to find out.

To that end I'm going to offer up a few solutions to a problem I've seen pop up time and time again, where the heroes have gone to all the trouble to get themselves into a great repository of knowledge and end up rolling what seems like endless knowledge checks to find out what they probably already know. This has been largely inspired by my own experience but may have been influenced by watching what felt like several episodes worth of the critical role gang hitting the books and getting nothing in return.

I've got a whole write up on loredumps, and the best way to dripfeed information to the party, but this post is specifically for the point where a party has gained access to a supposed repository of lore and are then left twiddling their thumbs while the dm decides how much of the metaplot they're going to parcel out.

When the party gets to the library you need to ask yourself: Is the information there to be found?

No, I don't want them to know yet: Welcome them into the library and then save everyone some time by saying that after a few days of searching it’s become obvious the answers they seek aren’t here. Most vitally, you then either need to give them a new lead on where the information might be found, or present the development of another plot thread (new or old) so they can jump on something else without losing momentum.

No, I want them to have to work for it:  your players have suddenly given you a free “insert plothook here” opportunity. Send them in whichever direction you like, so long as they have to overcome great challenge to get there. This is technically just kicking the can down the road, but you can use that time to have important plot/character beats happen.

Yes, but I don’t want to give away the whole picture just yet:  The great thing about libraries is that they’re full of books, which are written by people,  who are famously bad at keeping their facts straight. Today we live in a world of objective or at least peer reviewed information but the facts in any texts your party are going to stumble across are going to be distorted by bias. This gives you the chance to give them the awnsers they want mixed in with a bunch of red herrings and misdirections. ( See the section below for ideas)

Yes, they just need to dig for it:  This is the option to pick if you're willing to give your party information upfront while at the same time making it SEEM like they're overcoming the odds . Consider having an encounter, or using my minigame system to represent their efforts at looking for needles in the lithographic haystack. Failure at this system results in one of the previous two options ( mixed information, or the need to go elsewhere), where as success gets them the info dump they so clearly crave.

The Art of obscuring knowledge AKA Plato’s allegory of the cave, but in reverse

One of the handiest tools in learning to deliver the right information at the right time is a sort of “slow release exposition” where you wrap a fragment lore the party vitally needs to know in a coating of irrelevant information,  which forces them to conjecture on possibilities and draw their own conclusions.  Once they have two or more pieces on the same subject they can begin to compare and contrast, forming an understanding that is merely the shadow of the truth but strong enough to operate off of. 

As someone who majored in history let me share some of my favourite ways I’ve had to dig for information, in the hopes that you’ll be able to use it to function your players.

A highly personal record in the relevant information is interpreted through a personal lens to the point where they can only see the information in question 

Important information cameos in the background of an unrelated historical account

The information can only be inferred from dry as hell accounts or census information. Cross reference with accounts of major historical events to get a better picture, but everything we need to know has been flattened into datapoints useful to the bureaucracy and needs to be re-extrapolated.

The original work was lost, and we only have this work alluding to it. Bonus points if the existent work is notably parodying the original, or is an attempt to discredit it.

Part of a larger chain of correspondence, referring to something the writers both experienced first hand and so had no reason to describe in detail. 

The storage medium (scroll, tablet, arcane data crystal) is damaged in some way, leading to only bits of information being known. 

Original witnesses Didn’t have the words to describe the thing or events in question and so used references from their own environment and culture. Alternatively, they had specific words but those have been bastardized by rough translations. 

Tremendously based towards a historical figure/ideology/religion to the point that all facts in the piece are questionable.  Bonus points if its part of a treatise on an observably untrue fact IE the flatness of earth

[steddieas-shegoes]

The first time Dustin tried to get Steve and Eddie to meet, Eddie refused.

“You expect me to be nice to Steve Harrington? The King of Hawkins High?”

“I told you, that’s old news,” Dustin rolled his eyes.

“Last year isn’t exactly old news, Henderson.”

So Dustin let it be.

— — — — —

The second time they didn’t have a choice.

Eddie was wanted for murders he didn’t commit, and Steve was well-versed in the ways of the Upside Down.

When Eddie almost died, it was Steve who was able to carry him through the gate.

When Eddie was in the hospital for three weeks, it was Steve who sat by his side every night so he wouldn’t be alone with his nightmares.

When Eddie got out, it was Steve who brought him to his appointments and helped him get settled in the new government-provided house for him and Wayne.

When Eddie thought about it, Steve was probably the nicest guy he’d ever met.

— — — — — — — —

But Steve ended up having to go back to work when things got fixed up.

His parents left him the house, but otherwise cut him off.

Groceries and gas don’t pay for themselves.

So he saw him for an hour here or a few minutes there, always checking in when he dropped Dustin and Mike off for D&D.

Eddie started to wonder if Steve only hung out with him because he had like, survivors guilt or something. He had been so kind and caring, but clearly the clock ran out on that.

But to Dustin, it was just a reset.

Steve hadn’t changed, just his available time.

And it was time to do something about it.

— — — — — — —

They say the third time’s the charm, but in this case, it wasn’t.

In fact, Dustin almost gave up when this result ended in Eddie telling Steve to go fuck himself.

He didn’t know what happened, and he never found out, but Steve looked hurt, and Eddie shut himself in his room for three days.

— — — — — — —

Dustin was sick.

The flu was running rampant through the streets and school halls of Hawkins, leaving no person left untouched by the worst nausea and body aches known to humankind.

Also, Eddie’s dramatics may have been rubbing off on him. Just a little.

So he couldn’t go to Hellfire, and without him, they couldn’t finish the campaign.

But in his drug-addled mind, he thought of a resolution. Potentially. But bribery would have to be involved.

So he called Steve.

“Steve.” He turned up the pitifully low rasp of his voice to make it seem like he was dying. “I need you to cover me at Hellfire.”

“Why? So Eddie can tell me to go fuck myself again? No thanks.”

“Dude. Please. I’m too sick. Everyone’s been wanting to finish this campaign for a month.”

“Can’t they reschedule when you’re better.”

Well, yeah, probably. Eddie had been way more open to rescheduling since everything happened.

That would ruin his plan, though.

“C’mon, Steve! I’ll owe you!” He coughed to add to the drama of it all.

“Fine! Fine.” Steve sighed. “I hope you know you’re gonna lose.”

“Nah, it’s a team effort. Everyone will help you.”

“Sure.” Then, because Steve was Steve: “Need anything, Henderson?”

Dustin almost felt bad about what he was making Steve do. Almost.

“No, mom’s making me a broth soup to try to sip on.”

“Okay, call tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow.”

If Dustin wasn’t as sick as he was, he probably would have tried to stay awake to call tonight.

But he fell asleep within minutes.

— — — — — — — —

“I’m sorry, you’re what?”

Steve rolled his eyes and placed his hands on his hips. “Filling in for Dustin. He’s sick.”

“You can’t do that.”

“He said I could.”

“He doesn’t run Hellfire, does he?”

“Shouldn’t he? Since you graduated?”

Eddie glared.

“If you two are done bickering like old ladies fighting over the same man in the nursing home, we have a campaign to finish,” Erica said from her seat, looking at her nails instead of at them.

“You heard Lady Applejack,” Eddie gestures towards the table.

Steve sat in the largest chair at the end and leaned back.

Everyone was staring at him.

“You’re not that dense. You can’t be.”

Steve looked up at Eddie with a smirk.

“Is there a problem?”

“That’s the DM seat. I’m the DM. Therefore, my seat.”

“It’s big enough to share. I like the view from here.”

“You can see all my notes from here!”

“Exactly.”

Eddie’s face was so red, it was a wonder he hadn’t exploded yet.

But he didn’t continue arguing. To Steve’s delight, and Dustin’s if he were there to see it, Eddie sat down on the edge of the chair. Steve scooted over a little, but they were pushing each other and being immature and stupid.

They both fell on their asses and Lucas finally spoke up.

“Can we just reschedule? This isn’t gonna work.”

“No. We’re so close. Dustin wouldn’t have sent Steve if he wanted us to reschedule.”

Eddie looked at Steve, searching his face for something. Whatever it was, he must’ve found it.

“Alright. Steve’s in my lap. Let’s go.”

He clapped and pulled himself back into the chair, patting his thigh and smiling at Steve.

“The whole game?”

“It’s this or Dustin’s spot over there.”

Steve wasn’t having that. He deserved this spot.

He stood up and sat down in Eddie’s lap, ignoring the way his stomach fluttered at being close enough to smell the shampoo Eddie used. Eddie’s hands settled on his hips to hold him in place while he leaned around to check his notes.

“Let’s begin!”

Luckily, Steve didn’t have to do much. The rest of the group kind of played for him, knowing he was just a warm body at the table.

And he was certainly warm.

Eddie’s hands had been finding new places to touch on his sides or legs or back or stomach all night. It was distracting. It was annoying. It was intoxicating and addicting and Steve never wanted to leave.

He was completely zoned out, barely registering he was supposed to be an active participant in this fucking game when he felt a light smack on his thigh.

He let out a whine.

And then reality came crashing in.

Everyone was staring at him with raised eyebrows. Eddie was completely still under him. He was mortified.

But he still didn’t want to get up.

He kind of just wanted to turn around and bury his face in Eddie’s neck.

As soon as he has the thought, his body is making it happen. ‘Your wish is my command,’ it’s saying in excitement.

Within seconds, his body is turned facing a shell-shocked Eddie, legs using the space between Eddie’s back and the back of the chair to wrap around his waist, and his face burying itself into his neck. He let out a much quieter whine, and felt his whole body relax.

A hand was on the back of his head, keeping him in place, and he sighed.

He could feel vibrations, like Eddie was speaking, but his head was cloudy and he couldn’t quite figure out what it was he was saying.

It didn’t really matter anyways. He was cozy and safe and relaxed for maybe the first time ever. Unless Eddie physically removed him from his spot, he wasn’t moving.

Time passed, but Steve couldn’t take a guess at how much.

“Stevie? You awake?”

“Mhm.”

“You wanna get comfy?”

“Am.”

He felt Eddie laugh more than he heard it, but he just snuggled further into Eddie’s neck, bunching his shirt in his hands.

“Okay, I’m just gonna pick you up and go to the bedroom. It’ll be better to sleep.”

Sleep? Was it that late? Where was everyone else?

“Shhh. It’s okay. Just squeeze your legs around my waist and hold on.”

Steve followed his instructions to the letter and he could’ve sworn he heard Eddie whisper “good boy” into his ear, but that could’ve been wishful thinking.

The next thing he knew, Eddie was sitting on the edge of his own bed with Steve in the same position on his lap.

“Wanna get in comfy clothes?”

Steve shook his head.

He was so tired.

“When’s the last time you slept?”

“Dunno. Week?”

“A week?! Steve…”

“Shhh. Sleepy.”

“No shit. You haven’t slept in a week.” Eddie sighed and then somehow managed to get them both settled in bed, Steve’s body almost entirely on top of Eddie’s. “Get some rest, sweetheart.”

“Mkay.”

Eddie kissed the top of his head, but he was already almost completely asleep.

— — — — — — —

“So he just…cuddled him? Right there at the table?”

Dustin couldn’t believe his plan worked and he wasn’t even there.

“It was awful,” Erica spit out.

“It was weird,” Lucas added.

“It was disgusting,” Mike said, pointing a glare at Dustin. “I wish I had the flu so I could’ve missed it.”

“And has anyone checked in on them since?”

Two days had passed and Dustin was finally able to keep solid foods down and his fever broke more than 12 hours before. His mom was even going to let him call Suzy later.

“Uh. Should we?”

“Lucas! Dude! They may have turned on each other.”

“Yeah, more like turned each other on,” Erica mumbled.

They all stared at each other, disgusted at the thought of their friend and babysitter being close.

“Gross.”

But Dustin smiled anyway. His plan finally worked.

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Dean Obeidallah at The Dean's Report:

The despicable effort by corporate oligarchs—many of who helped elect Donald Trump—to convince the rest of us to submit to Donald Trump is now in full gear. On Saturday, we saw the jaw-dropping announcement by ABC News—owned by Disney-- that the corporation had agreed to pay Trump $15 million in a bogus defamation lawsuit Trump would have NEVER won. ABC also agreed to publicly apologize and pay Trump’s lawyers $1 million in legal fees. The lawsuit arises from ABC News anchor George Stephanopoulos’s exchange with GOP Rep. Nancy Mace in March when Stephanopoulos pressed Mace on how--as a survivor of sexual assault--she could support Trump given his history of sexual assault. One specific exchange cited by Trump’s lawyers was when Stephanopoulos challenged Mace to explain how she could endorse Trump after “judges and two separate juries have found him liable for rape and for defaming the victim of that rape” in the E. Jean Carrol civil case.

Trump’s defamation lawsuit alleged that Stephanopoulos knew Trump was never find liable of “rape”—only sexual assault—and, thus, had defamed him. But two things here. First, federal judge Lewis Kaplan--who presided over E. Jean Carroll defamation/sexual assault case—in his written opinion stated the jury had in fact determined Trump had “raped” Carroll. Judge Kaplan addressed this when considering Trump’s claim the damage award against him was too high because the jury didn’t find Trump had committed “rape” as narrowly defined by NY penal law. But the judge wrote that based on the evidence, Trump had raped Carroll in the way “many people commonly understand the word ‘rape.’” The Judge added, “Indeed, as the evidence at trial recounted below makes clear, the jury found that Mr. Trump in fact did exactly that.” I make that point as a lawyer who handled defamation cases to note that truth is a valid defense in every defamation case. Judge Kaplan’s opinion is the key to ABC News winning this case.

In addition, ABC News has another very strong defense. In a defamation case involving a public figure like Trump, the plaintiff has an added burden of showing not only that a statement is false but that the comment was made with “actual malice.” That means even if Stephanopoulos was wrong in saying Trump was found liable of “rape,” Trump would need to show Stephanopoulos knew that statement was false when he said that or “consciously chose to recklessly disregard the high probability that” the comment was false. But Stephanopoulos clearly could rely in good faith on Judge Kaplan’s written opinion that the jury had in fact found Trump raped Carroll when making his statement.

This is why Trump would’ve lost this case--as legal experts that focus on defamation told the NY Times. For example, RonNell Andersen Jones, a professor of law at the University of Utah, explained: “Major news organizations have often been very leery of settlements in defamation suits brought by public officials and public figures, both because they fear the dangerous pattern of doing so and because they have the full weight of the First Amendment on their side.” All of that is important to understand that ABC News also knew it would have ultimately prevail in the case--but they settled out of fear. They were bending a knee to Trump because during the campaign, Trump had threatened to take ABC’s broadcast license away after the presidential debate because the moderators fact checked his lies. Trump pointedly declared on Fox News: "They ought to take away their license for the way they did that."

With Trump now a month from being sworn in and his pick to head the Federal Communications Commission being Brendan Carr, an author of the far-right Project 2025, ABC News and other media outlets are fearful of how the Trump regime will target them. As MSNBC’s Ja'han Jones wrote, Carr is the type of “media attack dog” that will enable the GOP to follow the playbook of their beloved Hungarian strongman Viktor Orbán and use the agency to silence critics of Trump. ABC News should have never bent a knee to Trump with this unheard of surrender this early in a case they would’ve won. But they were not alone in capitulating to Trump this week.

[...] However, there is also a fear factor at play here as well.

ABC News made a very stupid decision to bend the knee to autocrat-elect Donald Trump by settling, and that’s because ABC would likely have won their case. They are doing this out of fear of Trump handing out reprisals to outlets even slightly critical of him.

Brian Tyler Cohen: Mainstream Media Opts to Obey

[reasonsforhope]

"There are now more golden lion tamarins bounding between branches in the Brazilian rainforest than at any time since efforts to save the species started in the 1970s, a new survey reveals.

Once on the brink of extinction, with only about 200 animals in the wild, the population has rebounded to around 4,800, according to a study released Tuesday by the Brazilian science and conservation nonprofit Golden Lion Tamarin Association.

“We are celebrating, but always keeping one eye on other threats, because life’s not easy,” said the nonprofit’s president, Luís Paulo Ferraz.

Golden lion tamarins are small monkeys with long tails and copper-colored fur that live in family groups led by a mated pair. Usually, they give birth annually to twins, which all family members help to raise by bringing them food and carrying them on their backs.

The monkeys, which live only in Brazil’s Atlantic Forest, are still considered endangered.

The population survey was conducted over roughly a year. Researchers went to specific locations and checked whether monkeys responded to recordings of the tamarins’ long call, which basically means “I’m here. Are you there?” said James Dietz, a biologist and vice president of the U.S.-based nonprofit Save the Golden Lion Tamarin.

The new population figures are notable because the species had experienced a sharp decline from a yellow fever outbreak. In 2019, there were 2,500 monkeys, down from 3,700 in a 2014 survey.

Scientists intervened by vaccinating more than 370 monkeys against yellow fever, using shots adapted from a formula for humans — a fairly novel approach for conservation.

Scientists “cannot pinpoint a single exact cause for the recovery,” but believe several factors may be at play, said Carlos R. Ruiz-Miranda, a State University of Northern Rio de Janeiro biologist who advised on the population study.

Firstly, the yellow fever outbreak has subsided, perhaps due to a combination of the virus’ natural cycle and the vaccination campaign.

The animals may also be benefiting from an increase in forest habitat, said Dietz, who is also a research associate at the Smithsonian Institution’s Conservation Biology Institute. Between 2014 and 2022, the amount of connected forest habitat increased 16%, mostly through forests regrown on converted cattle pasture, he said.

Currently about three dozen farmers and ranchers in the Atlantic Forest region participate in such reforestation programs.

“It makes me so happy to see the tamarins playing free on my farm. They don’t only live in protected areas,” said Ayrton Violento, a farmer and entrepreneur in the small city of Silva Jardim. His family’s Fazenda dos Cordeiros has planted native fruit trees and also manages a tree nursery for native Atlantic Forest seedlings to plant on other farms.

“Recently, every year I see more tamarin families, more frequently,” he said."

-via AP News, August 1, 2023

[qqueenofhades]

Thank you for your reasonable words. Your approach is the one I am striving to adopt permanently (whether we win this or not, and we have a good chance!!!!) of funneling my severe anxiety and panic episodes into organized action.

I think people in their 20s and maaaybe early 30s too? are used to either sinking to the ground in despair or “protesting” through angry social media posts and by purchasing small-batch-printed tote bags with progressive slogans.

Not that I don’t support both those things, but some people slightly older than us seem to have a more effective strategy of volunteering for and supporting what they identify as effective, soundly researched grassroots efforts.

Of course there are also a bunch of middle-aged and older Democrats who are sniffling into their Kleenex. But many of the over 30s in the party do seem to move their asses even when they are despairing, and that motivates me.

Thank you, dear, and I appreciate everyone who has taken the time to send me a supportive or encouraging message and/or say that my posts have helped them keep steady during this fucking insane stretch of time. It's not unprecedented in history altogether, but it certainly is for us, it just has never stopped, social media only exacerbates it, and... yes.

I do my best, with the caveat that I have no special magical wisdom or action to fix this all immediately (though truly, I wish I did). I have been a registered voter since 2006 and a registered Democrat since 2008, and while that doesn't make me the oldest person here by a long shot, it DOES make me older (and hopefully wiser, but yknow) than some of the early 20s/late teens crowd that gather on spaces like Tumblr. Either way, I have leaned fully into being the crotchety old elder and yknow, it's very freeing.

We have a good chance to win this. We have got to do the work, as ever, but that has always been the case and always will be, whether for this election or like, life in general. So chin up and let's do it.

[tomorrowusa]

Mike Godwin is an internet legend. He was the first known person to use the word meme in its internet context. He's also the originator of what's become known as "Godwin's Law".

In a recent interview, Mr. Godwin stated that comparisons of Donald Trump to Hitler or Nazis are fair and appropriate.

So to be clear — do you think comparing Trump’s rhetoric to Hitler or Nazi ideology is fair? I would go further than that. I think that it would be fair to say that Trump knows what he’s doing. I think he chose that rhetoric on purpose. But yeah, there are some real similarities. If you’ve read Hitler’s own writing — which I don’t recommend to anyone, by the way — you see a dehumanizing dimension throughout, but the speeches are an even more interesting case. What we have of Hitler’s speeches are mostly recorded, and they’re not always particularly coherent. What you see in efforts to compile his speeches are scholars trying to piece together what they sounded like. So, it’s a little bit like going to watch a standup comedian who’s hitting all of his great lines. You see again and again Hitler repeating himself. He’ll repeat the same lines or the same sentiment on different occasions. With Trump, whatever else you might say about him, he knows what kinds of lines generate the kinds of reactions that he wants. The purpose of the rallies is to have applause lines, because that creates good media, that creates video. And if he repeats his lines again and again, it increases the likelihood that a particular line will be repeated in media reporting. So that’s right out of the playbook. You could say the ‘vermin’ remark or the ‘poisoning the blood’ remark, maybe one of them would be a coincidence. But both of them pretty much makes it clear that there’s something thematic going on, and I can’t believe it’s accidental. The question is why do it on purpose. Well, my opinion is that Trump believes, for whatever reason, that there is some part of his base that really wants to hear this message said that way, and he’s catering to them. He finds it both rewarding personally for himself and he believes it’s necessary to motivate people to help him get elected again.

He adds this cautionary comment about the state of American democracy...

When I was growing up and being taught the American system of government, we would always be taught that the U.S. government has checks and balances in its design, so you can’t take it over with a sentiment of the moment. But I think what we’ve learned is that the institutions that protect us are fragile. History suggests that all democracies are fragile. So we have to be on the alert for political movements that want to undermine democratic institutions, because the purpose of democratic institutions is not to put the best people in power, it’s to maintain democracy even when the worst people are in power. That’s a big lift.

[eretzyisrael]

by Seth J. Frantzman

IN GAZA meanwhile, the commander assesses that Hamas is largely defeated. It’s no longer an organized fighting force. 

“They are running and hiding. They don’t wear uniforms. They are wearing civilian clothes. They are carrying out a guerrilla type of war,” he says. Hamas uses human shields and is afraid of fighting at night. It conducts small hit-and-run attacks but mostly flees and hides in schools and civilian areas. “They know we don’t bomb schools and hospitals and refugee camps. They hide in the tents. We see them in the tents. We see them sending women to check us and study us,” the commander says. What he means is that Hamas uses civilians, such as women, as scouts to monitor the IDF so the Hamas terrorists can then attack. The colonel recalls one incident near a school in Bureij in central Gaza, which is south of Netzarim, where Hamas fired an anti-tank missile from the vicinity of a school. Hamas had also placed improvised explosive devices.

The war has changed. Hamas can’t carry out combined attacks with numerous men. They don’t function as a fighting force, and they have fewer munitions and a different arsenal from October 2023. “Now they just put an IED [improvised explosive device] and go back, and they have snipers who are looking for our forces. They send [civilian] people to us to get us to expose our soldiers, and then shoot at us.”

IN NETZARIM, the corridor borders areas such as Nuseirat and Bureij, towns that are built around old refugee camps. This area has never been conquered by the IDF, and Hamas has resources in these areas. The 14th Brigade was responsible for securing the road where humanitarian trucks – around 30-35 a day – would pass. The soldiers would help escort and protect the trucks, the officer says. 

“We took them [trucks] inside to a point where we let them go on by themselves.” 

When the aid trucks leave the area controlled by the IDF, they are stopped by Hamas, who move some of them to specific Hamas-controlled warehouses from where the terror group then controls the aid.

“We saw the Hamas people come after it [trucks] with white Toyota trucks – the same ones they used on Oct. 7–  and taking things from the warehouse. I can say that the Netzarim Corridor is the one that gives us an opportunity to provide food in these areas; and second, over and over, Hamas use the humanitarian aid, which the IDF escorts, to support their fighters. They shoot their own people.”

This sounds like a vicious cycle and similar to the cycle of clearing areas again and again from Hamas, which the IDF chief of staff describes as a “Sisyphean task.” 

Hamas also tries to infiltrate the humanitarian convoys. The 14th Armored saw Hamas seeking to use humanitarian cover to move from northern Gaza to the south and vice versa. They use the cover of every humanitarian element. For instance, they sought to exploit the pause in fighting linked to the vaccination campaign that began in September. 

The officer says that Hamas even tried to use medical convoys to move from north to south. “The bottom line is that Hamas makes use of the humanitarian efforts that Israel and the IDF are making... This comes at the expense of the people. As I said, they jump on trucks and steal food... We were in Netzarim for two months, and from day one we saw Hamas even in UN cars, driving UN cars.” Hamas would even try to use the cover of United Nations-backed convoys, putting their people into the convoy.

[stormblessed95]

Hi Storm,

You were the first account I followed here and I’ve been through almost every post relating to member dynamics on your masterlist.

I’m finding this very hard to articulate but you’ve always said if you receive asks that are respectful you will indulge. I am making a lot of effort in trying to phrase my sentences in such a way that they do not offend and would like to apologise in advance if they do. It is not my intention.

Some time ago, there was discourse on your page where you said jikookers have bullied you and did not support you when you were being bullied. I am not sure when that was. I’m sorry you went through that. You put in a lot of effort to write the member dynamics posts and it’s quite shocking that people don’t respect it, value your effort and then bully you.

During that discussion you said something along the lines of jikookers becoming like taekookers as they allow the abuse of Taehyung. You said the fandom back in the day allowed Taekookers to fester because they didn’t take a harsher stand against what they were doing. I am paraphrasing or maybe I didn’t get the gist of it.

I don’t think jikookers or any other sub set of this fandom is anywhere near Taekookers. The reason is that most ot7 are Taekookers. When the fandom allowed hate against jimin, it gave rise to the most vile fandom and it is the largest part of army’s even today Jimin and his family get bullied and called all names and it’s is allowed because no one can shoot 90% of the fandom down and all those who allowed it are responsible for that shit show.

So then why are people and yes, most are Jikook stans, why are they called out if they so much as criticise Taehyung for some of the things he does? Did he have to join a Jikook show? No, did he have to post those pictures during muse? No. Did he have to name call Jungkook every single live? No. Does he visit fandom spaces? Yes. He sees the shit that goes on in there. Yes. He has sued people because he supposedly wants to stand for those who cannot stand for themselves but is ok when his fans call his fellow member a slut? Can you all not be objective enough to criticise him for this behaviour? Not everyone will like everyone you like, but you are an ot7 army so you should be objective enough to accept criticism too. But instead you shut everyone down? That’s a bit harsh don’t you think?

I say all of the following with respect, I promise. My intention is not for this to read as harsh or rude in any capacity. I'm making this disclaimer now because I know sometimes, it's hard to get tone in text. I'm being straightforward and serious with you. And my tone is meant to be one of kindness, softness and respect while being serious and rather blunt about it.

Anyone who tells me that they didn't see the hate campaign that reigned against me last year is either lying, or brand new to Jikook Tumblr. Or you took a 2 month long break and only came back after I was on hiatus, which then, if you checked my account at all, you still would've seen it. I guess the last option was that you just never checked my page until I came back. I'd much rather if anyone would bring it up, just be honest. Yeah, I saw that, I was silent, my bad, it was a mistake. Or it wasn't a mistake, I agreed with your haters and I'm still just here because I want your content. Whatever it is, I would much rather the honesty. Idk which of these categories you fall into, if any, but why bring it up just to try and discredit my feelings about jikookers and toxic behaviors being allowed to fester? I stand by what I said. You don't have to agree with me. That's your prerogative. I have never tried to tell people how to feel, I've only ever said that I will curate my space and use my block button freely to stop from seeing opinions I have no desire to see.

True OT7s are not taekookers, follow better people. Idk what else to tell y'all about that. When I say toxic behaviors being allowed to fester, I mean that taekookers way back when weren't nearly so bad as they are now. It used to be the same petty bullshit that so many shippers are now pulling. Except it never got checked, so it grew and festered and boiled until it's now as bad as it is with taekookers. If you don't stop the same petty revenge toxicity in Jikookers now, the same thing will end up occuring. And I don't want to see anyone complain to me in a few years about it, because all I'll be able to say is I told you so.

The last part of your message dear, just reads as essentially asking permission to be hateful towards Tae. Idk if that was your intention, but it's how it comes across to me at least. It's not criticism. There is stuff we can be critical about towards our idols, BTS included. Nothing you listed is worth criticism and is just things his antis use to bring hate against him. It's the same thing that tkkrs do. Nitpick stupid stuff to give themselves a reason to hate on Jimin. It's not worth it. And you will be a happier person in long run if you stop trying to hate Tae and just hate the antis that are the ones responsible for their own behaviors.

I'm not shutting anyone down (this is also the phrase that makes me question if you truly "don't know anything about me being bullied") I am saying I won't tolerate any kind of hate speech on MY blog about any of the 7 members. (even if you don't think it's hateful, on my blog, I have the right to decide what is and isn't discussed. Other blogs will draw different lines in the sand, and you can find GCs, or Start your own blog where you can say whatever you want. That's the beauty of the Internet.) You can do whatever you want in your own spaces. I personally, want nothing to do with it. I have bigger fish to worry about it. I'm here for BTS, all 7 of them. And I'm more concerned about k-media and the harassment our boys suffer from them and antis of all kind. Way more than I could ever pretend to be concerned about Tae talking about one of his best friends.

And again, I sign off with this whole thing respectfully, and with the hope that you also, take no offense to the way I phrased anything. Even if you disagree.

~ Storm 💜

[the12thnightproject]

Chapter Four: Minor Skirmishes - Okatsu discovers why Mitsunari needs a bodyguard, and another plate of stewed eel meets its doom.

Mitsunari x OC; Nobunaga x Mai

Previous Chapter

Logline - In order to protect a political alliance, Katusko and Mitsunari must pretend an engagement. But this “all business” arrangement is threatened by a coup against Nobunaga… and by feelings.

From the Military Notes of Ishida Mitsunari…

Generally, a skirmish can be a minor battle, or even short fight, as part of a larger military campaign, a smaller force drawing out a larger to test resilience, or to gather information about the size of the opposing army. Occasionally, it is itself the cause of the larger campaign.

Or, sometimes, it’s simply a matter of a misunderstanding, an incident in which two groups are in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Personal comments:

Being engaged, even if it is only a pretense, takes more effort than battle. At least in battle, one only has to wear armor, define and implement a strategy, and pay attention to the commander.

Being engaged? Requires one to converse.

While Lady Okatsu seems pleasant enough, I am not convinced she is necessary. I’m not ungrateful - I appreciate the effort that Mitsuhide has made on my behalf to acquire her expertise. However, I have never had any difficulty focusing on reading in the past and believe that on my own, I can discourage interruptions of any sort. Events have already been set into motion now, and it’s too late to switch courses. My engagement has been announced – for it to be unannounced within a day of the announcement would simply cause too much confusion.

At least Lady Okatsu is competent… and… There is something about her which is familiar - I believe we have met before. Though I know little about women, I am at least aware that saying, “I think we have met before, but I cannot quite remember you,” would not be received positively.

Getting attacked by a mysterious intruder was not on my Sengoku bingo card.

I brought my dagger up, and my attacker’s sword met it with a ‘clank.’ “Wait – I mean you no harm.”

“Harmless people don’t sneak into rooms through the ceiling.” I held my dagger steady in front of me. It wasn’t the best defense against a sword, but if someone was coming after me, I was going to make sure to do some damage of my own.

“My apologies for disturbing you. I seem to have landed in the wrong room.” My maybe-not-an-attacker edged backward. “Perhaps you could pretend you had a bad dream?”

Mai had given me her room for the duration of my stay here since she had moved into Nobunaga’s. Was my attacker after Mai?

Except… now that my heart wasn’t thundering in my ears, it occurred to me that my attacker’s voice was familiar. “Sasuke?”

“Yes. Do I know you?” Like me, he kept his weapon ready, but his posture relaxed somewhat.

I found the lantern and lit it, then belatedly remembered to double check that my kimono was fastened shut.

My moderately awesome ninja friend stood in the middle of the room, squinting at me. He pushed his glasses up on his nose and pulled down his mask. “Katsu? Fascinating. This is your most effective disguise to date.” He blinked a few times, darting a quick glance at my cleavage, then back to my face. “Wait. ‘Katsu’ was the disguise, wasn’t it? This is who you really are.”

“More or less.” I combed my fingers through my hair and stuck it behind my ears. “Katsuko… although I suppose I should get used to being called Okatsu.”

He laughed. “I’m obviously not a moderately awesome ninja if I never detected you were a woman.”

As far as I was aware, Mitsuhide and Mai were the only two people who instantly realized I’m female, so he was in good company. “What did you want with Mai?” I hoped the two of them weren’t conducting an affair under Nobunaga’s nose. At the very least, he’d consider that a serious insult to his honor.

“I need to return to our home, er, village for a long visit, and came to say goodbye.” Sasuke wandered to the writing desk, where I had left out my brush and paper.

“Oh… is Mai the girl you were talking about earlier this summer?” Even then Sasuke had seemed rather attached to her, no matter his claim of platonic friendship.

Sasuke nodded. Then he indicated the paper and brush on the desk. “If I write her a note, can you get it to her?” He paused, then added, “Why are you here?”

“Here in Mai’s room? Or here in Azuchi castle?” I plopped back down on the futon and rummaged through my pack until I found – yes, still had some dried pears left. I offered some to Sasuke, as it had been our tradition when we encountered each other on the road. Also, I was still hungry, as Mitsuhide’s roofieing of Masamune had effectively ruined dinner.

“Both.” Sasuke accepted the offer of snacks.

“I’m in Mai’s room because she is in Nobunaga’s. I’m in Azuchi because… well… it’s complicated.” I gave him as brief of an explanation as possible. “So, while we are at Genba castle for a month or so, I get to portray an Oda Princess.”

“You lead a very interesting life, Kats… er, Okatsu.” He folded up the message then turned to me and with a bizarre change of topic asked, “What’s your opinion of the Azuchi warlords? Have you met Ieyasu? Has any of this…” he gestured to my things now spread out on the futon, “touched Ieyasu?”

“We met. I have not touched him. He has not touched me. And as for the first question, if you are asking for reasons of spying, I’m not going to tell you.” I might be only a ‘temp,’ but temporary loyalty is still loyalty. “Remember, I do know who you work for.” Kenshin and Nobunaga might be in a truce, but I was not confident that it would last.

“I’m asking out of pure academic interest. I’m rather an admirer …” He paused, then seemed to reconsider his words. “Since I am going to be gone for a while, I want to make sure my friend is safe.”

Sounded like a lie. Or maybe a truth wrapped inside a lie. But I didn’t think he meant any harm to Nobunaga or the rest of the people in Azuchi. “As long as she is with Nobunaga, she’s perfectly safe from his vassals and allies.” Although as Nobunaga’s woman, she’d be a target for enemies. I didn’t need to point that out to Sasuke. “As much as I’m able, I’ll keep an eye on her as well.”

Hm, Sasuke hadn’t mentioned where his and Mai’s village was, but it wouldn’t hurt to ask him to look for my brother. I got out the drawing that Francisco had made for me. “I know I’ve asked you before, but please, especially if you are on a coast, if you see Toshiie, tell him how to find me.”

Sasuke refamiliarized himself with the drawing of my brother. “I will. Thank you for watching over Mai… and take care of yourself as well.” He bowed, then scampered back into the ceiling.

“You too, Sasuke. Beware of carnivorous trees.” I listened as his soft footsteps faded away into the night.

I would miss him. Not that I had been able to predict when we would run into each other; but knowing Sasuke was no longer roaming the byways of Japan made me feel even more alone than ever.

“Sorry that I got food all over it – at least… it’s not blood?” I handed Mai the kimono she had loaned me. She had stopped by “my” room with more clothing for me. “I’ll be more careful with this one.”

“Don’t worry about it. It was inevitable.” She held up a light blue kimono with a darker blue pattern, and a mint green one with silver embroidery. “I think these will do, until I can complete the custom ones. Do you like them?”

I nodded. They weren’t really my style, but at least they weren’t pink, and she didn’t have to keep giving me her own clothes. “They’re very pretty. But even if I didn’t like them, I would wear whatever they want me to.”

“On that note, Mitsuhide reminded me that he wants you in pinks.” I made a face at that, and she laughed. “There are many shades of pink, and you’d look good in most of them.”

I wondered if there was any specific reason that I was required to dress in pink other than the fact that Mitsuhide knew I didn’t like it. “Did he say why? Is it an official shade for Oda Princesses to wear?”

“I don’t know.” She handed me the blue kimono and busied herself with displaying the mint one on the kimono rack. “Mitsuhide does and says a lot of things I don’t understand. But deep down, he’s a good person. Also. He can read minds, so watch out.”

Sure.

Odds were that, like Aki, Mitsuhide was simply very observant. Clearly, I wasn’t going to get any helpful data out of Mai. “So be it. Pink. Maybe it’s Mitsunari’s favorite shade?” Though if that were the case, why had he asked me if I liked blue?

She looked over from where she was smoothing out invisible wrinkles. “Mitsunari wouldn’t notice what color you’re wearing unless he was required to memorize uniforms for battle.” Then she clapped her hands over her mouth. “I’m sorry. He’s your fiancée. I didn’t mean that way it sounded. He’s lovely, a perfect angel… but a little…”

“Absentminded. I’ve noticed. And, reminder, fake fiancé.” I shrugged into the kimono she’d handed me. It was so soft! I mostly lived in cheaper fabrics, either in the ugly brown maid kimono Fume made me wear, or the sturdier dark green kimono and hakama I wore as Katsu. Color aside, I could get used to this Princess thing.

Mai came over and made some minute adjustments to the fit, humming happily as she did so.

Damn! I was being a bit absentminded myself. Almost forgot. “Mai, I had a visitation from a ninja in the middle of the night.” I grabbed the message off the writing desk and gave it to her.

“Oh no!” Mai put her hand to her chest. “Did he scare you? I’m sorry. I didn’t even think to warn you about him. He’s a friend, and harmless. Alright. No. He’s not harmless, obviously, but he-”

“Mai! It’s ok. I was startled, that’s all.” And sure, startled enough to come at him with a knife, but she didn’t need to know that. “I’ve been friends with Sasuke for a couple of years. I’m used to his quirks.” Though popping through ceilings like Spiderman was a previously unknown facet of his personality.

She relaxed. “I forgot he’s been here that long.”

Weird response.

Quickly, she skimmed the letter. “He wants a chance to say goodbye in person. Kats- er, Okatsu, do you want to go into town with me? I can show you around, then we can meet up with Sasuke at this bookseller he frequents.”

Ha! I bet I know which bookseller that is. Though I was already familiar with Azuchi, thanks to my ‘observational activities’ earlier this summer, it wouldn’t be the worst idea. “I’d like that, but of course, I need to report in with Mitsuhide first. He might have other plans for me.”

“We can take Mitsunari with us. That way, you can be seen together. And if I mention bookseller, he’ll be happy to go along with it.”

That was actually a pretty good idea...

We tracked down Mitsuhide at Hideyoshi’s manor, where, as it happened, they also thought Mai’s idea was a good one. Mitsuhide gave her an approving nod. “We might make a strategist out of you yet, Mouse.”

“You on the other hand.” Hideyoshi looked me over with a frown. “What were you thinking, sticking a sword into the obi? You’re a princess, not a warrior. Azuchi is safe enough within the confines of the town.”

“I’m used to being armed.” I handed over my sword. It had only been a diversion, as I had my daggers strapped to my legs and a throwing knife hidden under my sleeve.

Mitsuhide studied me. “That… was too easy.” He put out his hand.

I unstrapped one of the daggers and handed that over as well. I could work with one dagger, the throwing knife, and the joy of knowing I had won.

“You can keep the other weapons,” Mitsuhide added, “as long as they stay hidden.”

If Mitsuhide ever ends up in the future, he can rent himself out as a metal detector.

It was easy enough to find Mitsunari, as he was holed up in his quarters, reading. It was slightly more difficult to get his attention, but once Mai executed the ‘bookstore’ command sequence, he was willing enough to set aside his book and join us.

I wasn’t sure whether Hideyoshi had given him an additional lecture, or if Mai was a mitigating presence, or, if Mitsunari was getting used to me – whatever the reason, he was more present and willing to discuss landmarks of interest.

At one point, I paused in front of a metalsmith’s shop – I could use some more arrowheads – both the blunted ones for target practice and the sharper ones for hunting and defense. The sound of the smith at work carried into the street. “Is this where Nobunaga gets his ammunition?”

“Some of it.” Mitsunari led us inside the smith’s shop to examine the wares. “Nobunaga has a private swordsmith he uses for his sword collection, and we have metalsmiths in the castle for ourselves and Nobunaga’s personal guards. As you might imagine, when there is active fighting, we need more than what we make. And of course, our guns come from the Kunitomo village gunsmiths.”

I nodded. Most of the guns made in Japan were made in the Kunitomo village, though I knew there was still a big market for European-made muskets.

The weapons inside the shop were of higher quality than what Aki could acquire. I picked up a fully assembled arrow and examined it. It was slightly longer than what I used, and the feathers were different as well.

“Sea eagle,” the smith replied when I asked.

That made sense. Azuchi was closer to the coast than Akihira’s household.

Mai mimed drawing a bow. “Are you any good at archery?” I already knew enough about Mai to know that she had no interest in weapons of war, but it was nice of her to ask, and she was doing a good job pretending not to be bored.

Was ‘Okatsu’ good at archery? Many women in this era were, as they needed to be able to defend their homes while their husbands were at war. And since legendary female archers such as Tomoe Gozen were part of literature, I figured it would be acceptable for “Okatsu” to have this skill. “As long as I practice, yes.”

She twirled an arrow around her fingers like it was a baton, and I could see the smith wince in the background. “Ieyasu’s teaching me.”

“Willingly?” The question came out before I had a chance to edit my words. Eep. I’m usually better tha that, “Er, I mean, how did that come about?”

Mai simply laughed. “It was after a strong suggestion from Hideyoshi. Anyway, you should join us in the mornings if you want to keep your skills up.”

I nodded. I would do that. Belatedly recalling that I was supposed to be developing a rapport with Mitsunari, I asked him if he too practiced.

His response was to proclaim proudly, “Ieyasu is the best archer in Azuchi.”

That… was not the question I had asked, so I tried again. “Do you ever practice with him?”

“Oh. Yes. Sometimes. Ieyasu says he prefers the solitude of archery, but he kindly allows me to join him.” There was that beatific smile again. Maybe his first love was books, but it seemed like his friends could inspire that smile as well.

Deciding that it would be a good test of my skills to practice with the longer arrows, I purchased some, as well as some blunted arrowheads. Mitsunari bought a couple too, saying that he would have Ieyasu practice with them as a way of testing the vendor. Happy with our purchases, we continued toward the booksellers.

“Do you expect to need additional vendors?” It was mostly a small talk gambit. Nobunaga was not currently at war with anyone, but it would be good to know if that was on the verge of changing.

“No immediate expectation, although as Lord Nobunaga continues to push the country toward unification under his banner, there will naturally be more resistance.” Mitsunari turned to look at me, and immediately tripped over air, and stumbled a few steps before regaining his balance. Unfazed, he continued speaking. “In any case, if we waited until there was a need, it would be too late.”

“Good point. Also, always a good idea to create goodwill with your local merchants.” I knew that both local and international trade was important to Nobunaga, and it seemed he was doing as much as he could for the merchant class.

Mai appeared to be a favorite with the merchants as well and pointed out a large stall belonging to a fabric deal. The merchant smiled and waved at her. “We’ll stop in in a bit,” she called to him. She turned to me. “I want to pick out some fabrics for your wedding.”

Alright, enough about that, even from Mai. This was an over the top, just to fool one seventeen year old girl. “Have you met the Kanamori princess? Does Mitsunari really pose that much of a threat to her engagement?” I couldn’t imagine any woman of this time being that willing to act counter to her family’s wishes.

“I don’t know her personally, but as for your other question… well, it’s easier if I show you.” Suddenly she raised her voice. “Misunari! Thank you for coming shopping with us!”

Even before she had finished speaking, women popped up all over the outdoor market, looking a bit like prairie dogs scenting food. Or well… something like that.

“Misunari?”

“Mitsunari’s here?”

“Where? Where is that angel?”

In moments, Mitsunari was surrounded, while Mai and I were pushed back by the tide.

I see.

Or, well, currently I could not see, but I understood.

When my ears adjusted to the pandemonium, I heard several of them invite him to tea, and a fight almost broke out. “Ok. Needs a bodyguard. Got it.”

“Okatsu. He probably needs one right this moment.” At least two of the women had their grips on his arms and Mitsunari looked from one woman to the next, trying to follow six conversations at once. “He might accidentally promise himself to a second, third and fourth wife.”

I gritted my teeth and waded in. Yeesh. I’d been to K-pop concerts that had less of a scrum. “There you are, darling.” I tucked my arm in his, carefully dislodging one of the women in the process.

“Ladies.” Mai scooted in behind me. “This is Princess Okatsu. Mitsunari’s fiancée.”

If glares were arrows, I would have had more holes in me than a pincushion.

Now I was the one who needed a bodyguard.

By the time we had made our escape to the booksellers, Sasuke was already inside, leafing through a book that appeared to be a translation of Greek mathematics. Takauji (the latest of Aki’s messengers to be stuck wearing the dreaded wig and beard bookseller disguise), called out an automatic welcome when we entered. He seemed dismayed to see Mitsunari, then surprised that I was with him. But he didn’t break character, at least.

Once Mitsunari was camped out with a book and Mai was chatting with Sasuke, I made my way over to Takauji. “Do you have any poetry?” In truth, I have no strong feelings about poetry, but I knew the few volumes Aki had were kept on the other side of the shop, so Takauji and I could talk undisturbed.

“Kaya, what’s going on? Did Aki send you to check in with me?” He handed me a slim scroll.

“Not exactly. One of Aki’s most frequent contacts asked us for help with a specific task. I’m based in the castle for a couple of weeks.” I unrolled the scroll – poetry illustrated with pen and ink sketches – and pretended it was fascinating. “He didn’t have any message to you.”

“I haven’t heard from him in a while.” Taka handed me a book to leaf through. “I was really hoping you were my replacement. I’m getting a skin rash from the damn beard.”

I shrugged because what could I say? Every one of Aki’s couriers knew the beard itched. “I told you to bring rash cream. Anyway. You know Aki. He’ll be in touch when he wants something. Meanwhile, since you’ve been here all summer, is there anything going on that I need to know?”

He scratched around to corner of the beard. Oh yeah, I could see the top of the rash. Poor guy. “Nothing big since the conflict with Uesugi earlier this summer. There’s been a gang of sailors causing trouble for the smaller shopkeepers around here. They don’t really bother with me, but I know the restaurant owners are upset.”

Sailors? I perked up a bit at that. Of course, my brother would not likely be in a gang that caused trouble, but if a new ship had docked in Osaka, then it might be worth seeing if I could finagle a trip down there to check things out.

“Really the most trouble I’ve had these days, comes from him.” With a jerk of his head, Taka indicated where Mitsunari had made himself comfortable with a book. “He always makes a mess.”

Sure enough, Mitsunari was leaning against a table, and the stack of books above was swaying dangerously. “Watch it,” I said to Takauji, mostly to clock his reaction. “That’s my fiancé you’re talking about.”

Then I zipped over to Mitsunari to rescue him before he concussed himself.

As I restacked the books in such a way that they would be less likely to fall over, Mitsunari finished scanning the book he had in his hand. He gave me an odd look, as if he had forgotten who I was. Hm. I hadn’t thought he was that absentminded.

Mai completed her goodbye to Sasuke, who had given me another farewell wave before vanishing into the throng of people on the streets. Then, donning her authority as Azuchi chatelaine, she insisted Mitsunari pay for the book in his hands, and successfully herded us out of the booksellers and right into a fabric dealer.

It felt weird to be picking out kimono fabric for a wedding that wasn’t going to happen, although I’d likely get a lot of use out of the rest of the wardrobe once we got to Genba.

Mai held a swatch of something pink up to my face. “I don’t know why you have such a problem with this color. It will look good on you.”

Well, I didn’t know why some people were so fond of pink in the first place. My mother had always wanted me dressed in pi… well. Some people liked pink. I was not one of the people. But Mai was the expert, and I hadn’t the heart to tell her that overall, I didn’t think clothing was all that interesting to begin with, especially when it was clearly her passion. So, I faked enthusiasm for the fabrics she picked out – and really, aside from the dreaded pink, I liked everything else she bought, as she stuck to the blue and aqua shades I preferred. She even bought a coordinating piece of fabric in a deeper shade of teal for Mitsunari, so that we would have matching outfits for our first night in Genba.

Mai… it’s not prom.

After that, she declared herself hungry – actually, Mai has quite the bossy streak - so we headed for a restaurant nearby that she said was good.

For the record, I maintain that what happened next wasn’t completely my fault.

After we ordered our food, my attention was caught by a group of sailors on the other side of the restaurant. Hard not to notice them – they were loud. Would these men, possibly, hopefully have an idea where Toshiie might be? Couldn’t hurt to ask. Before Mai and Mitsunari could stop me, I grabbed the portrait and scooted over to the table with the rowdy sailors.

Normally, such discussions followed the same pattern. I would introduce myself to the sailors, establish a rapport, show them the drawing of Toshiie, they would shake their head, I would thank them, and then be on my way.

That’s what normally happened… when I was dressed as Katsu.

But dressed as “Okatsu,” I attracted the wrong sort of attention. “Pardon me. Have any of you seen this man?” I held the drawing out to the table at large.

Instead of taking any time to look at the drawing, one of the sailors grabbed my arm. “If ya want a man, wench, there’s a whole table of ‘em right here.” He pulled me onto his lap.

Hell to the no on that, dude… I jammed my dagger into his forearm.

“Fucking bitch!” He leaped to his feet and had his sword out instantly.

Damn Hideyoshi for confiscating my own sword.

I deflected the initial cut with my dagger, but he immediately tried to catch me with the backswing. When I leaped backward to avoid getting hit, Mai’s too-long skirt tripped me up and I stumbled into another of the sailors, thwacking him across the arm with my dagger.

In an instant, the entire table of sailors had their swords out.

The first sailor came at me again, but at the last moment, another party came to my rescue, deflecting the strike with a gleaming katana - Mitsunari had leaped in to protect me. Yikes, please don’t get stabbed, Mitsunari! He slung me out of the way, back toward Mai, and I lost track of him almost immediately when the entire restaurant erupted into fighting.

A dagger wasn’t going to be the most useful weapon, but I couldn’t leave Mitsunari unprotected. Arms and legs flying, I jumped back into the fray, and immediately got jabbed in the eye by someone’s elbow. I heard a rip, then realized, I had again ruined another one of Mai’s kimonos. Shit. She was going to hate me.

I glanced back toward her, just in time to see her clonk a sailor over the head with a tea kettle.

A sword clattered on the floor and landed at my feet – Mitsunari had disarmed his first opponent.

Well, I wasn’t going to look a gift sword in the mouth. I grabbed it off the floor and was back in the middle of the melee.

The sailors weren’t unskilled, and their weapons were of surprisingly good quality, but some of them were pretty drunk. Of course, with the entire restaurant now involved in what had become a sword and food fight, it was becoming difficult to tell the enemies from the friends.

And so, after I kicked a sailor in the stomach, when I sensed a presence right behind me, I grabbed a plate of food off the table and flung it…

…at Hideyoshi.

Well, it isn’t really a good fight until someone gets whacked in the face with a dish of stewed eel.

@lorei-writes @bestbryn @katriniac @lyds323 @briars7

[say-hi-intrepid-heroes]

hi! I'll be starting my first campaign soon, and I was wondering if you have a solitary piece of advice for a new long term DM?

absolutely! If I have to pick one single piece of advice, I’d say get the players to do the work for you. By this I mean have them be connected to each other before the story even starts (for example, having a Warlock’s patron be an old friend (or enemy) of another player. Or having a Wizard’s mentor be another player’s idol). If you can’t do that, then try to give the players opportunities to role play amongst themselves, either by laying a puzzle out in front of them or just not interrupting them when they start talking. Being a DM is tough, so let yourself have a break if the players provide one.

Here’s some other bits of advice tho (and these are general):

Don’t overthink it. Yes, preparation is good, but you don’t have to prepare for every little thing or check.

Be prepared to let the players fail. Sometimes they’ll miss an important piece, and that just is what it is.

Over describe things. Describing too many details can create some fun red herrings for players, so add some silly things.

Make players roll. Having players roll for things takes the blame off of the DM and also leaves lots of things up to chance.

Don’t stress too much. Your players will have fun as long as you’re making any effort at all. Don’t stress about every little thing, it’ll all work out.

[8bitsupervillain]

Higurashi When They Cry Hou Ch. 8 Matsuribayashi pt. 81

I do have to wonder how the rescue of Jirou Tomitake would have played out if Takano had been present in the clinic during it? I sort of doubt it would have been different to any significant degree, but who knows?

In an effort to try to come up with something to say here I have reread these screenshots a handful of times. I don’t have any particular great way to start so here are some highlights from my half-baked non-starters. Working in a facility that uses a keypad lock on the door and the fact that no one bothers to learn how to actually use it I wouldn’t put it past the Mountain Dogs to just leave the door very slightly ajar during their day to day. It’s three digits people! It’s not that hard! Irie just escaped from the facility little over an hour ago, when exactly would they have had the time to deactivate his card? Especially since they’d have to contact Tokyo to get his access revoked? See, I told you the air-conditioned break room would become plot relevant. How did Shion know about the Mountain Dogs’ MP5 when they shot out Irie’s tires? Shion and Kasai weren’t there. I guess maybe she’s referring to their raid on the Sonozaki compound? These Mountain Dogs who “seem proud” about their involvement with the Irie car chase need a reality check, they pooched that pretty hard. Of course they surrendered when three people armed with a shotgun, automatic pistol, and sub-machine gun got the drop on them! Who the hell is going to be caught sitting at a table or desk, see someone stroll in with a shotgun, point it at them, and be like “heh, I have the upper hand!”

Little writing flub I think. I sincerely doubt your average person in the 1980s even knew what the word resolution meant outside of new years. It’s a very modern thing to think about, and even then I doubt your average person knows about screen resolution. Or can articulate it anyway.

“The Mountain Dogs weren’t only locked in the bathroom, but had to go through extra humiliation.” They’re gonna pants em!

Unfortunately for the guards in the basement of the facility it was on the level. Irie and Shion had been taken by a couple of other Mountain Dogs who were able to get the jump on the rescue group, took out Kasai and Akasaka, and disarmed Shion. Because of their jumping the gun they unfortunately cut down Irie, Shion, and these two other Mountain Dogs.

From the way Shion was acting before I kind of want to see if I can commission anyone to make a mod for one of the Max Payne games replacing Max with Shion. It’ll go hand in hand with my one mod idea replacing Leon in Resident Evil 4 with Rena. Amused myself with the idea of Shion replacing Max in Max Payne 3 where he spends a good chunk of cutscenes just getting sloshed.

What Mountain Dogs outside? They implied it was just the six guys here guarding the facility. Maybe there are ten guys in the facility, but they didn’t seem to encounter any resistance getting into the building itself. Oh I’m thinking too hard about this.

I’m not exactly the most well-versed in regards to hunting information, but I have never heard of slugs being used to hunt animals. I’ve only ever heard of slugs being used in terms of hostage rescue or other SWAT based uses. I don’t doubt that there are people who hunt using slugs, but I’ve only ever heard of people using birdshot and buckshot for their hunting. Slugs, I’ve only ever heard being used to shoot locked doors off their hinges. Once more I’ve amused myself by imagining Shion as the one delivering this shotgun monologue to the Mountain Dogs. I blame my enjoyment of Girls’ Frontline.

I mean, it worked out pretty well for them regardless, but it certainly looks like their stealth campaign ended in pretty abysmal failure. I assume that when they pantsed the Mountain Dogs on the first floor they were doing this to steal their uniforms and have Akasaka and Kasai in disguise for the charade. Might as well have just had Akasaka or Kasai shoot out the camera and proceed like they did.

Have to say however, this is really playing into my theory that the only two real researchers in the Irie Institute are Irie and Takano. There was a nameless nurse back in part 60, but otherwise it’s been nothing but the inexhaustible horde of Mountain Dogs in the facility.