#US Preventative Services Task Force

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Chris Geidner at Law Dork:

The U.S. Supreme Court is likely to reject an argument pressed by a key conservative lawyer on Monday that would end existing preventative care insurance coverage protections put in motion by the Affordable Care Act. At the same time, however, that outcome in the case would likely empower the secretary of the Department of Health and Human Services to press for changes in the protections if the secretary so chooses — an area of concern given HHS Secretary Robert F. Kennedy Jr.’s positions and actions in office already. Under the ACA, among other preventative care requirements, insurance providers must include cost-free coverage for services that get certain positive recommendations from the U.S. Preventative Services Task Force. Employers who don’t want to provide insurance that covers care they oppose on religious grounds sued and argued at the Supreme Court that the task force members are unconstitutionally appointed because they weren’t nominated by the president and confirmed by the Senate — an argument accepted by the U.S. Court of Appeals for the Fifth Circuit.

That argument, that task force members are “principal” officers under the Appointments Clause, would not only toss out coverage protections for the care the employers oppose — PrEP coverage (an HIV-prevention drug regimen) and certain contraceptive coverage — but all of the recommendations of the task force, including certain cancer and mental health screenings. Jonathan Mitchell, the former solicitor general of Texas who was behind Texas’s S.B. 8 vigilante enforcement abortion ban, is behind the litigation and argued for the employers on Monday that the task force — created during the Reagan administration — has been operating unconstitutionally since the passage of the ACA made its recommendations a part of the law’s coverage requirements.

The government, however, has responded that Mitchell and the employers, as well as the Fifth Circuit, are twisting the law to force the issue. Because the Health and Human Services secretary can remove the task force members at will and has additional authority to review their recommendations, they argue that the task force members are “inferior” officers and, thus, their appointments are constitutional. And while the Biden administration had been defending the task force, the new Trump administration continued to defend the task force when the administration changed over. If that wasn’t already enough of a sign of the extreme nature of Mitchell’s position, Monday morning’s arguments cemented that.

Much of the case, as it reached the Supreme Court, comes down to what the law’s reference to the “independen[ce]” of the Task Force means, as well as language that its recommendations are to be free of “political pressure” — “to the extent practicable.“ Before Mitchell could even get to the podium, however, Justice Amy Coney Barrett — in discussing the case with DOJ Principal Deputy Solicitor General Hashim Mooppan — was referring to the Justice Department’s argument as the “middle-of-the-road“ position and Mitchell’s argument as the “maximalist” argument. Once Mitchell did take the podium, Justice Elena Kagan repeatedly questioned Mitchell’s selective approach to the statutes at issue — an argument that Justice Ketanji Brown Jackson later called “circular.” Noting that Mitchell is arguing, in effect, that the court construe the statutes as creating an independent agency in the task force, Kagan dryly pointed out, “[W]e don't go around just creating independent agencies. More often we destroy independent agencies.”

[...] The end result of the case on appeal in Kennedy v. Braidwood Management is likely one in which the task force’s role under the ACA remains — because the HHS secretary can fire the members and exert other review-related control over its actions. Given that, however, the concerns that prompted initial opposition to the lawsuit due to its attacks on PrEP coverage and certain contraceptive care coverage are not likely to go away altogether. Instead, advocates who fought this lawsuit very well could need to focus on a new front should Kennedy back political efforts to change the task force’s membership and recommendations — and, with it, coverage protections.

In Kennedy v. Braidwood, SCOTUS is likely to reject Jonathan Mitchell’s reasoning on U.S. Preventative Services Task Force preventative care protections. However, should SCOTUS reject Mitchell’s challenge, Robert F. Kennedy Jr. could press for preventative care protection changes.

[mariacallous]

It feels like no one should have to say this, and yet we are in a situation where it needs to be said, very loudly and clearly, before it’s too late to do anything about it: The United States is not a startup. If you run it like one, it will break.

The onslaught of news about Elon Musk’s takeover of the federal government’s core institutions is altogether too much—in volume, in magnitude, in the sheer chaotic absurdity of a 19-year-old who goes by “Big Balls” helping the world’s richest man consolidate power. There’s an easy way to process it, though.

Donald Trump may be the president of the United States, but Musk has made himself its CEO.

This is bad on its face. Musk was not elected to any office, has billions of dollars of government contracts, and has radicalized others and himself by elevating conspiratorial X accounts with handles like @redpillsigma420. His allies control the US government’s human resources and information technology departments, and he has deployed a strike force of eager former interns to poke and prod at the data and code bases that are effectively the gears of democracy. None of this should be happening.

It is, though. And while this takeover is unprecedented for the government, it’s standard operating procedure for Musk. It maps almost too neatly to his acquisition of Twitter in 2022: Get rid of most of the workforce. Install loyalists. Rip up safeguards. Remake in your own image.

This is the way of the startup. You’re scrappy, you’re unconventional, you’re iterating. This is the world that Musk’s lieutenants come from, and the one they are imposing on the Office of Personnel Management and the General Services Administration.

What do they want? A lot.

There’s AI, of course. They all want AI. They want it especially at the GSA, where a Tesla engineer runs a key government IT department and thinks AI coding agents are just what bureaucracy needs. Never mind that large language models can be effective but are inherently, definitionally unreliable, or that AI agents—essentially chatbots that can perform certain tasks for you—are especially unproven. Never mind that AI works not just by outputting information but by ingesting it, turning whatever enters its maw into training data for the next frontier model. Never mind that, wouldn’t you know it, Elon Musk happens to own an AI company himself. Go figure.

Speaking of data: They want that, too. DOGE agents are installed at or have visited the Treasury Department, the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration, the Small Business Administration, the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, the Centers for Medicare and Medicaid Services, the Department of Education, the Department of Health and Human Services, the Department of Labor. Probably more. They’ve demanded data, sensitive data, payments data, and in many cases they’ve gotten it—the pursuit of data as an end unto itself but also data that could easily be used as a competitive edge, as a weapon, if you care to wield it.

And savings. They want savings. Specifically they want to subject the federal government to zero-based budgeting, a popular financial planning method in Silicon Valley in which every expenditure needs to be justified from scratch. One way to do that is to offer legally dubious buyouts to almost all federal employees, who collectively make up a low-single-digit percentage of the budget. Another, apparently, is to dismantle USAID just because you can. (If you’re wondering how that’s legal, many, many experts will tell you that it’s not.) The fact that the spending to support these people and programs has been both justified and mandated by Congress is treated as inconvenience, or maybe not even that.

Those are just the goals we know about. They have, by now, so many tentacles in so many agencies that anything is possible. The only certainty is that it’s happening in secret.

Musk’s fans, and many of Trump’s, have cheered all of this. Surely billionaires must know what they’re doing; they’re billionaires, after all. Fresh-faced engineer whiz kids are just what this country needs, not the stodgy, analog thinking of the past. It’s time to nextify the Constitution. Sure, why not, give Big Balls a memecoin while you’re at it.

The thing about most software startups, though, is that they fail. They take big risks and they don’t pay off and they leave the carcass of that failure behind and start cranking out a new pitch deck. This is the process that DOGE is imposing on the United States.

No one would argue that federal bureaucracy is perfect, or especially efficient. Of course it can be improved. Of course it should be. But there is a reason that change comes slowly, methodically, through processes that involve elected officials and civil servants and care and consideration. The stakes are too high, and the cost of failure is total and irrevocable.

Musk will reinvent the US government in the way that the hyperloop reinvented trains, that the Boring company reinvented subways, that Juicero reinvented squeezing. Which is to say he will reinvent nothing at all, fix no problems, offer no solutions beyond those that further consolidate his own power and wealth. He will strip democracy down to the studs and rebuild it in the fractious image of his own companies. He will move fast. He will break things.

[pixelatedraindrops]

“Don’t worry, my pokepal. We’re here for you.”

Something I made based on BrightStar’s birthday present fanfiction to me. It’s a RainCode Pokemon AU crossover story. I felt pretty down last night and I needed a distraction. So I drew this. Originally it was going to be a small uncolored doodle I’d attach as a thread to the fic, but I just kept going… xD

Description below read (its long lol)

I kinda drew out one of the scenes, however I added my own element to it. I know that the scene takes place in the normal setting of rain code, except everyone is a Pokemon. But the story itself gave me huge Pokemon Mystery Dungeon vibes so I made the setting similar to the PMD Explorers games. With the straw nested beds, the grass flooring, and the sliced berries.

Tbh, the explorers games are the elements of PMD I’m most used to and prefer. I like the idea of Pokemon living like feral creatures with small living circumstances, like cavemen. Not fully functional furnishings and machines. I feel it gives a cozier domestic aspect and it separates a Pokemon society away from us humans. They have more modern settings in the newer games, but I like the way it was done in explorers the most. So I hope you don’t mind that!

It was rather nostalgic to draw a PMD themed art again after so long. It was a game I loved drawing fanart of in the past and I even had teams with the hero and partner based off my friends. Good times…

Reading this fic got me to thinking how much I would have loved to see a whump or illness scene from the game. Having the hero, partner or even important side character fall ill to have a nursing scene with their whole team tending to them. (The closest we got was the Manaphy post game quest before releasing it to grow up in the sea)

So I did just that. I used the fodder from Bright’s story to create this little piece where Team NDA help their newest member through a status ailment, known as a BRNing fever. (Plus yay an excuse to draw yuma sick as an eevee :D)

Everyone has a role to play in his recovery.

The patient, Kokovee is lying in the infirmary nest bed feeling exhausted, sick and miserable where he is tended to by the rest of his team. Yakgrowth makes sure he stays warm by using his many vines to force wrap a blanket around him, also to monitor his temperature, and to try to feed him. (I can see him doing all sorts of tasks with all his vines, Grass types are grade A caretakers :3) Liepara uses their sharp claws to slice the berries that are brought as medicine to be easier for him to consume. Oran berries for his energy, Rawst berries to settle the heat, and Persim berries to prevent any confusion (delirium) that might be caused by the illness. Desuhichu walks up to him and connects his cheek to his to loan him some energy his way. (though this only works on other Pikachu, it does not harm the sick shiny Eevee) Celibuki uses her psychic powers to pre-soak the towels in the stone bowl for cooling him off later, Duskullgami can’t do much but she makes sure her partner is at least comfortable, and Vivisol merely stands guard. He doesn’t do too much but he forewarned the team of the disaster beforehand so they got everything ready. He did help in his own way... XD

I was actually inspired partially by @asaka-lucy-dr-rc’s birthday work for me where everyone helps tend to sick Yuma in their own way. I wanted to do something similar, except they’re Pokemon now... xD

Desuhiko and Yuma's forms were designed by me, as Eevee and Pikachu are the only Pokémon I have confidence in drawing. It's why everyone else is kinda offscreen (that and to focus on kokobolt since Bright wrote this story as an extra service to her XD)

Ya'll cannot force me to draw anyone else completely so they are just there, feet and heads cut off LOL at Vivia's big-ass claws (shinigami was interesting to try though)

The other designs belong to @snivyartjpeg as part of their own PMD AU. Seems Bright used them for this story, so I had to draw them too. (sorry biggie I know sick whump isn't your thing, but I had to credit you... X'D)

But yeah it was fun to draw this out! (kinda needed a stress reliever)

I hope you all enjoy! ^-^

Thanks again for the cute story Bright!💜

Alt Version where Yuma’s body is free:

[violetrainbow412-blog]

Day 14: fantasy AU

Masterlist flufftober 🎃

This is a bit (too) long, but I honestly loved writing it. I hope you like it as much as I do, it's my favorite so far!

Living as a magical creature was undoubtedly difficult. But being born a witch was practically a death sentence.

You couldn’t boast that your kind had ever been fully accepted by society, but at least you could live in peace with others, and perhaps, out of fear, they wouldn’t dare harm you. But now, everything was different with the institution of a new system that aimed to completely exterminate you.

There were no longer safe places, and you were forced to retreat into the forest, stay united in covens, or the boldest among you faced the enemy. Treating you as a threat only turned you into one, sparking an unprecedented war where the king’s men used all sorts of devices to hunt, torture, and kill witches. On your side, you practiced every spell you knew, cursing them sometimes and even causing entire towns to suffer the consequences.

It was so sad to witness the feud and know that someday you could be the one standing on that stake that had taken so many lives or hanging with your feet floating above the ground as a demonstration of what they were capable of doing: a warning.

You doubted that you could ever kill someone out of spite. Your work had always been about healing, and up until that moment, you hadn’t allowed dark magic to corrupt you in any way, adhering to your principle that magic should only be used for altruistic purposes or, at worst, in self-defense.

However, that didn’t exempt you from fearing the men tasked with hunting you. You used to travel between towns to sell your healing potions, always careful not to be spotted by anyone who might turn you in. Sometimes, you worked for free for families too poor to afford other services. After all, magic was more effective. It was always more effective, both for good and for evil.

The fireplace burned softly inside your cabin, just enough to warm you but not enough to attract the attention of those who passed through the forest. Honestly, being there sometimes felt like living in a cave. You had covered the few windows to avoid being seen, and to counteract the lack of light, you had placed candles throughout the space.

You were preparing a stew for dinner with vegetables you had bought that afternoon in a neighboring town when a knock at the door startled you. The knocks weren’t aggressive but not timid either, and you quickly ran to extinguish most of the candles, hoping whoever was behind the door would go away. No one found your place by accident, so it had to be an intruder. If it were another witch, you would have felt it.

"I know you're in there," said a voice behind the wood. It was deep, and fortunately, not unfamiliar to you. "Let me in, I don’t want anyone else noticing I’m here."

Fearful but determined, you walked to the door to do as he asked. Suddenly, you remembered how the man always complained that your footsteps made no sound, something you found useful all the time.

Before opening, you discreetly peeked through a crack in the wood to make sure no one else was with him. Having a witch hunter at your door was bad enough; more of them would be catastrophic.

You pulled the handle of the old wood to reveal your guest, and he silently walked inside.

You had never met a man as strange as Reid, the witch hunter. You first saw each other during a skirmish you hadn’t planned to be part of but unfortunately ended up involved in. Your role wasn’t to attack anyone; instead, you helped your injured companions. At some point during the altercation, the man managed to catch you, and, scared but determined not to let him discover who you were, you tried to escape. He attempted to put a pair of shackles on you, but you fought back with all your strength. Although you tried to cast a spell, the man was intelligent. His hands strategically held you to prevent any of your movements, and he was strong enough that you couldn’t overpower him.

“Witch, it’ll be worse if you resist…”

You didn’t know if he said that to convince you or out of frustration from the struggle you were giving him, but you didn’t want to find out either. You bit the hand within your reach, and though he groaned, he didn’t release you entirely. When one of your feet touched the ground, giving you more stability, you kicked him in the stomach, forcing him to let you go.

You tried to run, but the man was an expert. He quickly reached for his sword, still sheathed at his waist. You looked him in the eye and regretted being in this situation. You didn’t want to hurt him, but it was kill or be killed.

Suddenly, you noticed hesitation in him, as if he didn’t want to do anything but capture you. His long hair was tangled, and his face was smeared with blood: you didn’t want to know if it was his or one of the women’s.

A crash echoed, and in a split second, a flash of blue light shot through the air, hitting the hunter’s shoulder in front of you. A few inches to the side, and it probably would have killed him instantly.

He collapsed to the ground, dropping his sword to use his hand to try to stop the blood pouring out in torrents. You stood in shock, watching him for a few seconds, stunned by the deep pain on his face. However, there was something else: it looked like hate, but if you looked closely, it was fear. No one wants to die, and in that gaze, there was fear of passing to the other life.

What could you do in that case? The wisest thing would have been to run away and leave him to his fate, but you hesitated for a second. Was that really the right thing to do? He had tried to capture you, but after all, he was a man, a soul.

Cautiously but without wasting time, you stumbled to his side, kneeling, and extended your hands over his body, covered by a leather jacket, pressing on the wound.

“Leave me alone!”

“Shut up, I’m trying to save your life,” you scolded him.

You began to recite a spell, and although he tried to move, the pain wouldn’t let him. Little by little, he felt the burning sensation diminishing, along with the feeling of his blood gushing out.

Reid was an expert at remembering faces. Thanks to that, his team of hunters often managed to catch witches, even if they moved from place to place. While you worked, he focused on observing you. Your face was smudged with soot, and you had a small cut at the hairline, but other than that, you were fairly easy to recognize. Your brows were furrowed with concern, and he wondered what kind of crazy person you were to be helping him, even though he had been about to condemn you minutes earlier.

When the pain was completely gone, leaving only a red stain, you knew you were vulnerable again, so you quickly got up to move away from the man. You didn’t know how long you ran, but the memory of the tears streaming down your face, thinking about abandoning your own kind, was etched in your memory.

The second time you saw each other was a complete accident. You had gone to town to stock up on some materials you needed, carefully buying from different vendors so that no one could accuse you of practicing witchcraft, when you bumped into someone. Before you could apologize, you saw that golden insignia worn by the most prestigious hunters, and as soon as you looked up, you both recognized each other instantly.

You didn’t hesitate to turn and run in the opposite direction, knocking into some people along the way. A few meters ahead, he caught up to you, grabbing your arm and dragging you into a secluded alley.

“Don’t kill me,” was the first thing you said, looking at him with an involuntary pleading expression.

Thanks to the daylight, you could observe him better and noticed the hardness in his features. He was intimidating, no doubt, and you understood why there were enough reasons to consider him dangerous.

“Why did you help me?”

There was a gruffness in his question that made it sound as if he were angry. Was he offended that he had been saved by the enemy? Or did he want to know your reasons before sending you to die?

He still held one of your hands tightly, fully aware that most spells required both your hands. There was silence for a moment as you stared at each other until you dared to speak.

“I don’t know.”

“I tried to capture you.”

“I know,” you replied just as seriously. He still hadn’t let you go. “But it’s my job. I help others. And I didn’t want the guilt of having left you lying there, although now that I think about it, it probably would’ve been the smarter thing to do.”

“You could’ve let me die, but you didn’t,” he murmured, almost as if talking to himself rather than to you “You didn’t.”

He sounded incredulous, as if the idea of an act of kindness from you was unimaginable. You remained very still, waiting for him to do something, and after a few seconds, he released your wrist.

“Go,” he said again. “It’s a life for a life.”

Without thinking too much about what he was offering you, you fled once more, and you didn’t stop until you reached the forest, completely forgetting the reason you had gone there in the first place. You would buy the ingredients elsewhere, what mattered most now was getting as far away from that hunter as possible.

As if by fate, you continued to run into each other, and each time your panicked glances were ignored by him, as if by not looking directly at you, he was giving you a chance to escape. Months passed this way, and at some point, you found him at your cabin door when you returned from the town.

You thought this would be your end and cursed yourself for not letting him die, sealing your tragic fate. However, he wasn’t there to capture you but to make a deal. You couldn’t believe it. After all, since when did hunters negotiate with witches?

“You’re something like a healer, aren’t you?” he asked once he had forced you inside the cabin so you wouldn’t be discovered.

“I am.”

“And do you know how to treat head troubles?” he asked curiously “You know, things doctors can’t?”

You didn’t understand what he wanted, and once again, you felt afraid. The enemy knew where you lived; he was standing in your home, not pinning you against a wall to immobilize you. He was seeking your help, which you had every right to refuse if you wished.

“You’re a witch hunter,” you muttered aloud, your tone bordering on disgust “What does it matter if I can do that?”

If you were going to die, you wanted to do it with integrity.

“Listen, I can offer you something in exchange for your help. I can protect you. If I hadn’t kept quiet, my companions would have already found and killed you because no detail escapes me. If I figure it out, my whole team knows, but on their own, they won’t be able to decipher it. I’m the one standing between them and you. If I say nothing, you’ll be safe.”

Could you trust his word? What if it was all a trap? A million questions crossed your mind at that moment, and you tried to consider whether the risk was worth the reward. Probably no hunter in history had ever sought help from a witch, and you were sure your kind couldn’t trust ordinary humans.

But despite knowing this, you accepted. After all, your secret was already exposed, and if you refused, you would only hasten the inevitable result. At least by accepting his deal, you bought time. You could live until he decided you were no longer useful, or when his team of hunters wanted to eliminate more witches.

Months had passed since then. That’s how he told you what he was suffering from, and you helped him treat it, giving him various infusions, ointments, and occasionally using some magic directly on him.

“Have you gotten better or worse?”

“I’ve improved. On a scale from one to ten, maybe a seven.”

“Have you followed the instructions I gave you? The therapeutic baths, drinking the drops I gave you, all of that…”

“Yes. Sometimes I don’t have time, but I try.”

Whenever he visited you, neither of you made eye contact. You pretended to be busy preparing things, while he kept analyzing the wood of your table as if it were the most interesting thing in the world.

“Alright. Give me a moment, and I’ll prepare what you need.”

Reid hummed in response, and he stayed calm, drumming his fingers on the surface in front of him. While you mixed ingredients, you glanced at him from the corner of your eye, noticing that he was wearing his characteristic black clothes, but this time he looked more relaxed. No sword or visible weapons. He was only wearing a linen shirt and pants, which made you wonder if the night’s chill would affect him.

Your cabin was exceedingly warm, and although he wouldn’t admit it, there was a comforting feeling upon entering.

“I heard you caught the Green Witch.”

“We did, yes. Just yesterday. By the afternoon, her sentence had already been passed.”

“May the gods receive her with joy, and may she become magical strength for her coven,” you recited, making a gesture similar to crossing yourself.

Reid assumed that this was what you witches said every time one of your kind died.

“Did you know her?”

“Yes. We met a couple of times. She was a bit mad, but not so much that I’d wish her dead.”

“She did a lot of bad things.”

“I know. But years ago, she lived in peace with us.” You fell silent for a moment, waiting for a response. None came. “What you people do to my sisters is completely inhumane. Did you know that?”

“We’re just trying to protect people.”

“Yes, from something that wasn’t dangerous until you decided it was. If you keep telling someone they’re evil long enough, I think you’ll eventually push them into becoming that.”

Admitting it out loud would be a betrayal of the principles on which he worked, but Reid had thought many times about what you had just told him. The first encounter he had with you caused a complete ideological conflict in his mind. The lingering question had started to take shape: What if not all witches were evil?

He had joined the hunters to help achieve a greater good for his people. During those months, he had enjoyed the effects of your remedies, you had taken care of him, and despite who he was, you treated him with respect. He wondered if your behavior was out of fear that he might expose you to the other hunters or if your actions were genuine.

“If I refused to keep helping you…” you began, breaking the silence. He was deep in thought, and your voice brought him back to reality “Would you send me to the stake?”

As you said this, you still didn’t look at him. Focused on your work table, you gave him your back, somehow hoping his response would come directly to that place. You were sure of what he would say, that it would reach you like a stab.

“Are you planning to stop helping me?”

“Would you do it?” you insisted.

Reid thought about it for a moment and decided to answer your question with another.

“Would you be capable of killing me?” When you heard that, you turned with a confused expression. “You have all the means, to be honest. I drink those things you give me without question. Who’s to say you couldn’t be poisoning me?”

“I would never do that.”

“I can’t know that, just as you have doubts, so do I. It’s a matter of trust. Helping me is your choice, I’m just offering the benefit of protection in return. But if one day that agreement breaks, it won’t be me accusing you. If you decide to act wrongly, that’s your responsibility.”

You fell silent, observing him seriously. He was such a strange man.

“So, it’s our fault that we’re sent to die? Without being given the chance to prove we can help you?”

“Don’t think I’m a fool. I know you travel through the villages selling your potions and healing the poor. You’re proving your worth by keeping yourself alive, and that’s why you’re still here. You might live a long life as long as you don’t draw attention.”

“But I’m still a witch in the end. And you’re a hunter. The outcome for that combination is logical and inevitable.”

“And do you think all hunters are monsters?”

“I don’t know. Do you think all of us are evil?”

The two of you fell silent. Neither of you would dare say what you really thought. But there was something in the look you shared that felt hopeful.

Sensing the lack of response, you turned back to your work, and the conversation was over. A few minutes later, you placed three jars, a wooden container with ointment, and a plate of hot stew on the table.

“What’s this?”

“Food. No poison. If you don’t want to join me, then take your remedies, and the door is open.”

You had never invited him to stay longer than necessary, and the proposal felt strange to both of you.

Reid’s silence and his remaining in your home seemed to indicate a positive response, and still without saying anything, you served yourself a plate to join him for dinner. The sound of the fireplace was all that could be heard around you, along with the occasional noises of nature.

Whenever you weren’t paying attention, Reid would look up to observe you, as if you were a puzzle he needed to solve. Similarly, you analyzed his behavior, wondering if this man was worth the risks you were taking. Once, your gazes crossed, but as soon as your eyes met, both of you looked away.

“I should go,” he announced after finishing his meal. He wanted to compliment your cooking skills but couldn’t find the words. “Should I take the medicine the usual way?”

“Yes. The ointment is only if you have a fever.”

“Alright,” he muttered, nodding his head. He needed to leave, but it was as if his feet weren’t responding. “Thanks. For everything.”

For perhaps the first time, Reid saw a smile on your lips, and he took it as a sign of trust.

“Be careful on your way back.”

You didn’t speak of the matter any further, and you tried with all your might not to think about it. But the weeks passed, and you heard no news of Reid. It wasn’t as if you wanted to run into him everywhere, of course, but not knowing anything about him left you feeling strangely uneasy this time.

During one of your visits to town, you overheard rumors and couldn’t help but get curious. Several people were saying the same thing, both villagers and hunters.

"The hunter Reid is sick."

The women recited prayers, and the men expressed their sympathy for him. Apparently, he was a well-liked figure among the villagers, which made you wonder why and, secondly, why he hadn’t come to you for help.

Through whispers, a few questions, and your own deductions, you managed to find out where the man lived, and, trembling, you decided to search for him. Night had already fallen, and you hoped that under the cover of darkness, your identity would remain hidden.

Once you arrived, it wasn’t difficult to open the door, but your main fear was that he might have company, which would ruin everything. You noticed that the place was modest, with just a small hallway, a little room with shelves full of books, and a tiny space for preparing and eating meals. In the back, visible from the entrance, was a room dimly lit by a nearly extinguished candle.

How angry would he be if he found you in his home? In his territory, violating the place he likely considered sacred and safe? A witch in the house of a witch hunter.

He was alone in the room, lying on a small bed pushed against the wall, barely fitting his frame. He looked peaceful, but also visibly worn out, and his cheeks were flushed. You had heard of an illness affecting humans, killing them in large numbers: the plague.

Gently, almost maternally, you brushed his hair away from his forehead to check his temperature. He was burning up with fever.

“Who is it?” he asked hoarsely, barely having the strength to speak. When he cracked his eyes open and saw you, you noticed his transition from drowsiness to alarm.

“It’s me. I’m here. Calm down, you’re not hallucinating,” you murmured. Without wasting time, you searched among his belongings for the ointment you had made for him weeks ago, and without questioning it, you began to apply a layer to his forehead.

“What are you doing here?”

“The whole town is talking about you. I couldn’t help but hear, so I thought I’d come to check if my protection from the gallows was still in place,” you teased lightly.

You were lying. You wanted to see him, and you were worried about him. But you weren’t going to admit that.

“I’m just a little sore. Everyone’s exaggerating.”

“Has anyone given you anything? Food, medicine?”

“Nothing. I don’t want anything.”

“Oh, so you want to go out like a real martyr? Suffering helps you reach heaven, or that’s what you people say, right?”

“Why did you come to see me? How… how did you know where I live?”

He spoke with difficulty, struggling to string his thoughts together, likely because of the illness. He was completely vulnerable before you.

“Do you want me to leave?” you asked first. “Because I can.”

“No offense,” he whispered, fighting to keep his eyes open. “It was just a question”

“Then, do you want me to stay?”

“If you want to, then yes.”

Neither of you would back down. Resigned, you found a chair to sit beside the bed and rummaged through your bag for something that could help him. You had a loaf of bread meant for your cabin and some tea, still warm, that you had bought from a farmer. Despite the hardship you'd face, your will allowed you to offer both to the hunter.

“You need to eat and drink something. Give me a few minutes, and I’ll prepare a potion that will help lessen the symptoms. With that and a little magic, you’ll be well by tomorrow or the day after you won’t even remember being sick.”

“Aren’t you afraid someone will see you?”

“Of course I am. But I trust you’re not so treacherous as to betray me after I’ve risked coming here to help you.”

In that, you were right. And Reid knew it.

Without saying anything, you placed the food and the steaming tea on a little table beside the bed, then went to another area to start your work. Even though you didn’t have all your ingredients with you, you could prepare something decent with the supplies in your bag.

When you returned to the room, he had already devoured half of the bread and nearly finished the tea. You noticed that he was struggling to stay seated, so you encouraged him to lie down again, ready to begin your work.

Reid watched closely as you moved your hands and the faint sparks that appeared each time you twitched your fingers. It seemed as if you were pulling something from within him, and the man’s curious nature emerged.

“What exactly are you doing with that?”

“I’m pulling the illness from your system. Your soul is infected, so I have to cleanse it.”

“And the illness? Where does it go?”

“I absorb it,” you explained. Seeing his disbelief, you continued, “Magic always requires you to give something. That’s why so many witches who use dark magic end up corrupting themselves. Committing evildoings requires absorbing that pain.”

“Have you ever used dark magic?”

Suddenly, the conversation felt kind, intimate, almost like that of a pair of friends... or even lovers. You were terrified but didn’t let him notice.

“No. I practice Wicca: nature grants me power, and I am at peace with it. Without harming others.”

“It’s fascinating to hear someone talk about it. We know how to capture, contain, and kill your kind... I mean, witches. But I never really thought about what you all practice or believe.”

His voice was soft, tired, while you continued your work.

“Do all of you have the same mark?”

His hand reached up to touch your forearm, and you felt a shiver run through your body. His finger rested lightly on your birthmark, a reddish spot.

“Witches who are born with magic do. Well, most of them. For those who turn evil, the mark darkens, and often their fingers start to turn black, as if they have soot on their hands. It’s part of the transformation.”

“And is it true that you’re daughters of the devil?”

You let out a scoff, incredulous, wondering how many more lies had been told to tarnish your people’s image and turn you into monsters.

“We are daughters of Mother Nature, descendants of the oldest magical lineages. We have nothing to do with Lucifer.”

“And how is a witch born? Do you need... to be intimate with someone of your kind?”

“I think that’s a bit too personal of a question,” you murmured disapprovingly. With one final movement, you eliminated the sickness from his soul, and you felt that even his appearance had changed. “Better?”

“A little.”

“You need to drink this all day tomorrow and if possible, the day after. Dissolve it in enough water, and as the hours pass, you’ll notice improvement. But the most important thing now is for you to rest.”

“And where are you going?”

“To my cabin. You don’t expect me to stay in town, do you?”

“The night is dangerous,” he tried to warn, but you responded with a laugh.

“So what? Afraid I’ll run into a witch?”

Reid didn’t miss the teasing tone in your voice, and for a moment, he felt the same connection, that sense of familiarity you had felt before.

“You’ll be fine. Just follow the instructions and find me when you’re better,” you murmured, hoping that would suffice as a farewell.

However, the man stretched out his hand to stop you from leaving, gently taking your fingers. You correctly assumed that no witch had ever received such a soft touch from a hunter, and your breath caught in your throat.

“Why do you insist on proving you’re good?” he asked, reflecting aloud. You looked puzzled by his statement. “You saved my life even though I sought to take yours. You help me stay sane with your herbs, and now you come here and assist me even though no one asked you to.”

“Are you dissatisfied?”

“I’m confused. How am I supposed to capture more witches, knowing they could be like you? That they could be kind, sweet… that they could be so human?”

His monologue seemed more like he was trying to understand things himself, rather than asking you. But if he was recognizing you as human, was he suggesting he saw you as an equal?

You were walking on very thin ice. Ice that could easily crack under the heat of emotions... of passion, and something strange that was brewing inside both of you.

“Just don’t do it,” you said, shrugging your shoulders. Without waiting any longer, afraid that his touch would overwhelm you, you pulled your hand away and walked toward the door. “Keep me updated. If you die, my protection dies too.”

You tried to make your words sound indifferent, but the truth was, they came out with a mixture of concern and plea. Reid felt a sense of pride, thinking that you were implying you needed him. That for one reason or another, you wanted him to stay alive.

“Thank you,” he murmured, delirious. In your heart, you hoped for his recovery, or you would never forgive yourself.

You waved goodbye and then made your way to the door of the house. Luck was on your side, there wasn’t a soul in sight. Cautiously, using those silent steps the hunter often complained about, you walked into the forest and disappeared into the undergrowth.

Throughout the night, perhaps due to fever or perhaps due to desire, Reid dreamed of you.

The months passed. Everyone was amazed at the sudden recovery of the hunter, and most attributed it to a miracle, not knowing that the magic they so despised had actually saved him.

Apparently, that second act of compassion on your part had softened his heart, and his visits became more frequent, almost always lacking any real purpose. He excused himself by saying that he wanted to learn more about witches, to see if there was a less violent way to deal with those who were evil. You had basically become the subject of his research.

Part of you was terrified at the thought that someone might discover your meetings or that he might dare to use against you all the information you were giving him. However, over time, the trust between you both grew considerably.

Titles had been lost somewhere along the way. Suddenly, you were no longer a witch, and he was no longer a hunter. You were simply two people, curious about discovering the secrets of the other's nature, beginning to learn that perhaps the beliefs you both had grown up with could be wrong.

Reid took it upon himself to warn you every time a hunt was going to start, making sure you didn’t leave your place until it was safe, trying desperately to keep the hunters away from the section of the forest where you lived.

Time was the only culprit for you growing fond of him. You didn’t want to; you never planned for it, but gradually, the feeling crept under your skin, and you couldn’t avoid it. It was terrifying just to think about it.

“It's beautiful, isn’t it?”

Reid was mesmerized by the view in front of him. Your curious friend had asked if it was true that fairies existed since he had never seen one, and you promised to take him to meet them. So, one afternoon, you ended up at a stunning crystal-clear lagoon surrounded by trees, with colorful lights flitting from one side to the other.

“We’ve explored this forest so many times. How come I’ve never seen this?”

“Sometimes, you humans only see what you need to see. The fairies are very protective of their territory, so not just anyone finds them,” you said, smiling slightly.

The idea of him being so excited to meet the fairies surprised you a lot. You had spent so much time with him that your perception of humans had inevitably changed too. Maybe not all of them were destined to hate magical beings… perhaps some could even grow to admire you.

But sometimes, you had mixed feelings about it. He visited you, protected you, trusted you… but he was still a hunter, wasn’t he? He still helped send witches like you to their deaths.

Only the evil ones, he always justified.

“Those little lights… Are they them?”

You hummed in agreement and carefully extended your palms, hoping one of them would approach. When one finally did, Reid was able to see it.

Fairies, contrary to what many humans believed, weren’t tiny, beautiful versions of a person with transparent wings. In reality, fairies were brown-colored creatures with moth-like wings and hair that looked like a bird’s nest.

“Aren’t they curious?”

“Very fascinating,” he admitted, a smile forming on his face. Lately, watching him smile had become one of your favorite activities.

He observed the scenery for a while, trying to register as many details as possible, while you gathered some plants that you would use to prepare potions or infusions.

Seeing you amid nature awakened a strange feeling in Reid. Kneeling, dressed in a white gown that gave you a certain aura of purity, your hair fell like a curtain over your face.

What was that feeling? Why did he feel this way, watching you so peacefully?

You said something, but honestly, Reid didn’t hear you. He was too distracted by the glow of your face and wondering where the little flowers in your hair had come from. It was probably the fairies, he thought, during the time he hadn’t been watching you.

“I asked if you know how to swim,” you repeated with a small smile “There are some who say this lagoon has healing properties. There are nymphs, too, but I haven’t seen any lately. They’re a bit possessive, to be honest.”

“Nymphs?” he asked, astonished, which only made you laugh.

Without saying another word, you set your basket aside, and Reid was shocked to see you start taking off your dress, leaving yourself in nothing but a very thin undergarment that was too indecent to be considered proper. But he couldn’t expect modesty from someone like you; after all, you had already shown that you didn’t follow conventional rules.

You gracefully dove into the lagoon, and Reid watched you disappear into the water, only to resurface a few seconds later.

“Come on!”

Reid hesitated for a minute, but eventually, he gave in and joined you in the water under the same conditions as you: in his underwear.

“Isn’t it wonderful?” you spoke again, floating on your back in the clear water.

You had your eyes closed, as the sun was shining directly on your face, and Reid tried to avert his gaze from the curves of your body, which were now visible through your soaked clothes. He felt slightly embarrassed by the improper thoughts that crossed his mind, thoughts he couldn’t control.

“Swimming?”

“The nature. The village is so gray and sad… everything here is better.”

The man hummed, as if to say that he agreed with you. Suddenly, he felt a couple of fairies fluttering around him, and the movement of their wings tickled him, making him laugh.

“Do mermaids exist?”

“They do, but only in the open sea. You should be careful with the sirens.”

“What’s the difference?”

“Mermaids can be benevolent if they wish. But sirens’ sole task is to seduce sailors and lure them to the bottom of the sea; they attract them with their song and beauty.”

“I didn’t know there were so many creatures I had to worry about, not just witches. No offense.”

“Oh, Reid. You humans are missing out on a whole world,” you teased, swimming right up to him “The difference is that witches don’t try to seduce you. We’re a bit more practical.”

“That would be a good strategy.”

“Do you want a witch to seduce you?” you asked, tilting your head slightly to one side to look at him.

“No! I mean… using beauty to attract people with reason might be effective. I suppose.”

“Unfortunately, there aren’t too many candidates who interest us. Most of them are grouchy, horrible old men. Although, well… there are always exceptions to the rule.”

Were you flirting with him? From the way you were looking at him, he thought it was entirely possible.

“Anyway, all it would take to make a man fall for us is putting a bit of love potion in his tea. It wouldn’t be hard.”

“Now I understand why my tea tastes weird lately.”

There was something unspoken in your teasing, something suggestive, even sinful. Yes, because the idea that a witch and a witch hunter could have that kind of tension was ridiculous. Unthinkable.

You both stared at each other for a second, waiting for the other to say something, but that didn’t happen.

“Are our things still where we left them? There are goblins in this forest too, and they tend to be quite mischievous.”

“They are,” he quickly answered.

You smiled and, with a nod of your head, invited him to follow you, then began swimming in an unknown direction.

You chatted for a while as you swam, and little by little, the sky turned orange, signaling that sunset was approaching. You were in an area surrounded by grass, where more fairies sparkled around than Reid had ever seen before, making the atmosphere visually stunning.

“We should head back. They might wonder where you are,” you suggested, glancing at the sky “Tonight is a full moon. A perfect occasion for a human sacrifice, and I don’t want any speculation.”

Your tone was playful, and just as he was about to respond, everything suddenly seemed to slow down. Behind you, there was a whirlpool in the water, and by the time he tried to warn you, it was too late. The natural phenomenon swallowed you up immediately, almost as if your body were in free fall.

Reid was seized by panic. His area of expertise didn’t involve bodies of water, but he knew how dangerous a whirlpool could be, as it could cause you to drown.

Without wasting time, he dove underwater and spent almost a painful minute trying to grab one of your limbs to pull you toward him. When he finally succeeded, your body was heavy and limp, making him fear the worst.

When he managed to resurface, he swam with you to the shore, carefully laying you down. While lying next to you, he called your name several times, moving your head to get you to respond, but nothing happened.

“Come on! Wake up!” he urged, his voice filled with evident desperation.

Suddenly, he remembered some of his knowledge of the human body and, albeit fearfully, began pressing on your chest to try to expel the water from your lungs. Every few compressions, he leaned in to give you mouth-to-mouth, hoping it would be enough to revive you.

When he finally heard you gasp and saw you roll onto your side to vomit all the water, he felt a wave of relief wash over him.

“Are you okay?”

“What happened?” you asked, disoriented.

Reid was nearly hovering over you, holding your cheeks with both hands as if to assess your condition, his honey-colored eyes locked onto yours.

“A whirlpool. I tried to warn you, but it already had you.”

“Oh…” you exhaled, still coughing a bit. It took you a second to process it “And you saved me?”

“Of course. Who else would it be?” he muttered, almost in a reproachful tone.

A small smile crossed your lips.

“So, is this going to become a habit? Saving each other’s lives?”

It wasn’t until that moment that you both became aware of how close you were. His wet body was pressed against yours, and Reid could feel your chest firmly against his. He was still holding your cheeks.

You stared at each other. His eyes, his beautiful and gentle eyes, were fixed on yours. Just breathing a little heavier would have allowed you to feel each other’s breath, your noses practically brushing.

Once again, you faced a dilemma. You could have gotten rid of him a long time ago. Not once, but many times. And he could have done the same without consequences. But that was never your intention; it was useless to keep pretending.

And then, it just happened. It felt natural for both of you to lean in and close the distance, sealing your lips together without any need for explanation.

Your kisses said it all. They said: I care about you. They said: I was afraid I was going to lose you. They said: I know you’re not evil like the others. And they said: I know you’re not ruthless like them.

Suddenly, the contact didn’t seem to be enough, and Reid positioned himself over you to continue kissing you, with no protest from your side. You could feel the heat beneath you, and he undoubtedly felt the same. His free hand firmly gripped your side, almost massaging the soft parts of your torso. You held him tightly, your fingers tangled in the wet curls of his hair.

And so, within a matter of minutes, you both gave in to the unrestrained passion that had been growing inside you for the past few months.

He was good to you, careful. You reciprocated, caressing him gracefully and whispering sweet words in his ear.

The thin ice you had both been walking on didn’t even exist anymore. It had shattered at that moment, and all that remained was an intense fire engulfing the both of you.

You just had to be careful that a heat like that didn’t turn into a pyre.

[cringywhitedragon]

Heads up folks, NicoNicoDouga is currently down due to a large scale cyberattack

The attack happened on the 8th and the site is still down in terms of video streaming. Apparently there were reports of Ransomware being used during the attack.

The site is still “down” but the blog part is back up but from the report, videos and content posted are ok so do not fret. The site is still down as of this post (save for the blog) and it seems they are working their hardest to fix it and do damage control.

Here is a rough translation of their most recent post:

Report and apology regarding cyberattack on our services

As announced in Niconico Info dated June 8th, 2024, Dwango Co., Ltd. (Headquarters: Chuo-ku, Tokyo; President and CEO: Takeshi Natsuno) has been unable to use the entire Niconico service operated by our company since the early morning of June 8th. It has been confirmed that this outage was caused by a large-scale cyberattack, including ransomware, and we are currently temporarily suspending use of the service and conducting an investigation and response to fully grasp the extent of the damage and restore it.

After confirming the cyberattack, we immediately took emergency measures such as shutting down the relevant servers, and have set up a task force to fully clarify the damage, determine the cause, and restore the system. We would like to report the findings of the investigation to date and future responses as follows.

We sincerely apologize to our users and related parties for the great inconvenience and concern caused.

Response history>

Around 3:30 a.m. on June 8, a malfunction occurred that prevented all of our web services, including our "Nico Nico" and "N Preparatory School" services, from working properly. After an investigation, it was confirmed that the malfunction was caused by a cyber attack, including ransomware, at around 8 a.m. on the same day. A task force was set up on the same day, and in order to prevent the damage from spreading, we immediately cut off communication between servers in the data center provided by our group companies and shut down the servers, temporarily suspending the provision of our web services. In addition, since it was discovered that the attack had also extended to our internal network, we suspended the use of some of our internal business systems and prohibited access to the internal network.

As of June 14, we are currently investigating the extent of the damage and formulating recovery procedures, aiming for a gradual recovery.

June 8, 2024

We have begun an investigation into the malfunction that prevented all of our "Nico Nico" services from working properly and the failure of some of our internal systems.

We have confirmed that the cause of the failure was encryption by ransomware. "Nico Nico" services in general and some internal business systems suspended and servers were shut down

A task force was established

First report "Regarding the situation in which Nico Nico services are unavailable" was announced

June 9, 2024

Contacted the police and consulted with external specialist agencies

Kabukiza office was closed

KADOKAWA announced "Regarding the occurrence of failures on multiple KADOKAWA Group websites"

June 10, 2024

Reported to the Personal Information Protection Commission (first report)

Second report "Regarding the situation in which Nico Nico services are unavailable" was announced

June 12, 2024

Reported the occurrence of the failure to the Kanto Regional Financial Bureau (Financial Services Agency)

June 14, 2024

This announcement

This cyber attack by a third party was repeated even after it was discovered, and even after a server in the private cloud was shut down remotely, the third party was observed to be remotely starting the server and spreading the infection. Therefore, the power cables and communication cables of the servers were physically disconnected and blocked. As a result, all servers installed in the data centers provided by the group companies became unusable. In addition, to prevent further spread of infection, our employees are prohibited from coming to the Kabukiza office in principle, and our internal network and internal business systems have also been shut down.

In addition to public cloud services, Niconico uses private cloud services built in data centers provided by KADOKAWA Group companies, to which our company belongs. One of these, a data center of a group company, was hit by a cyber attack, including ransomware, and a significant number of virtual machines were encrypted and became unavailable. As a result, the systems of all of our web services, including Niconico, were shut down.

This cyber attack by a third party was repeated even after it was discovered, and even after a server in the private cloud was shut down remotely, the third party was observed to be remotely starting the server and spreading the infection. Therefore, the power cables and communication cables of the servers were physically disconnected and blocked. As a result, all servers installed in the data centers provided by the group companies became unusable. In addition, to prevent further spread of infection, our employees are prohibited from coming to the Kabukiza office in principle, and our internal network and internal business systems have also been shut down.

The Niconico Video system, posted video data, and video distribution system were operated on the public cloud, so they were not affected. Niconico Live Broadcasting did not suffer any damage as the system itself was run on a public cloud, but the system that controls Niconico Live Broadcasting's video distribution is run on a private cloud of a group company, so it is possible that past time-shifted footage, etc. may not be available. We are also gradually checking the status of systems other than Niconico Douga and Niconico Live Broadcasting.

■ Services currently suspended

Niconico Family services such as Niconico Video, Niconico Live Broadcast, and Niconico Channel

Niconico account login on external services

Music monetization services

Dwango Ticket

Some functions of Dwango JP Store

N Preparatory School *Restored for students of N High School and S High School

Sending gifts for various projects

■ About Niconico-related programs

Until the end of July, official Niconico live broadcasts and channel live broadcasts using Niconico Live Broadcast and Niconico Channel will be suspended.

Considering that program production requires a preparation period and that Niconico Live Broadcast and Niconico Channel are monthly subscription services, we have decided to suspend live broadcasts on Niconico Live Broadcast until the end of July. Depending on the program, the broadcast may be postponed or broadcast on other services.

The date of resumption of Niconico services, including Niconico Live Broadcast and Niconico Channel, is currently undecided.

Niconico Channel Plus allows viewing of free content without logging in. Paid content viewing and commenting are not available.

■ About the new version "Nico Nico Douga (Re: Kari)" (read: nikoniko douga rikari)

While "Nico Nico" is suspended, as the first step, we will release a new version of "Nico Nico Douga (Re: Kari)" at 3:00 p.m. on June 14, 2024. Our development team voluntarily created this site in just three days, and it is a video community site with only basic functions such as video viewing and commenting, just like the early days of Niconico (2006). In consideration of the load on the service, only a selected portion of the videos posted on Niconico Video is available for viewing. The lineup is mainly popular videos from 2007, and you can watch them for free without an account.

■About the Niconico Manga app

We have already confirmed that many systems were not affected, and we are considering resuming the service with a reduced-function version that allows basic functions such as reading manga, commenting, and adding to favorites. We aim to restore the service by June 2024.

If any new facts become known in the future, we will report them on Niconico Info, Official X, our company website, etc. as they become available. We appreciate your understanding and cooperation.

Added 6/10]

Thank you for your continued patronage. This is the Niconico management team.

Due to the effects of a large-scale cyber attack, Niconico has been unavailable since the early morning of June 8th.

We sincerely apologize for the inconvenience.

As of 6:00 p.m. on June 10th, we are working to rebuild the entire Niconico system without being affected by the cyber attack, in parallel with an investigation to grasp the full extent of the damage.

We have received many inquiries from you, such as "Will premium membership fees and paid channel membership fees be charged during the service suspension period?" and "What will happen to the time shift deadline for live broadcasts?". We are currently in the process of investigating the impact, so we cannot answer your questions, but we will respond sincerely, so please wait for further information.

Our executive officer Shigetaka Kurita and CTO Keiichi Suzuki are scheduled to explain the expected time until recovery and the information learned from the investigation up to that point this week.

We will inform you again about this as soon as we are ready.

■ Services currently suspended

Niconico Family Services such as Niconico Video, Niconico Live Broadcast, Niconico Channel, etc.

Niconico Account Login on External Services

[Added 2024/06/10 18:00]

Gifts for various projects (due to the suspension of related systems)

■ Programs scheduled to be canceled/postponed (as of June 10)

Programs from June 10 to June 16

■ Current situation

In parallel with the recovery work, we are investigating the route of the attack and the possibility of information leakage.

No credit card information has been leaked (Niconico does not store credit card information on its own servers).

The official program "Monthly Niconico Info" scheduled for June 11 at 20:00 will be broadcast on YouTube and X at a reduced scale. During this program, we will verbally explain the current situation in an easy-to-understand manner. (※There is no prospect of providing additional information, such as detailed recovery dates, during this program.)

"Monthly Niconico Info" can be viewed at the following URL. YouTube → https://www.youtube.com/@niconico_news X (formerly Twitter) → https://x.com/nico_nico_info

The latest information will be posted on Niconico Info and the official X (formerly Twitter).

We deeply apologize for the inconvenience caused to users and content providers who regularly enjoy our videos and live broadcasts. We ask for your understanding and cooperation until the issue is resolved.

Published on 6/8]

Thank you for your continued patronage. This is the Niconico management team.

Currently, Niconico is under a large-scale cyber attack, and in order to minimize the impact, we have temporarily suspended our services.

We are accelerating our investigation and taking measures, but we cannot begin recovery until we are confident that we have completely eliminated the effects of the cyber attack and our safety has been confirmed. We do not expect to be able to restore services at least this weekend.

We sincerely apologize for the inconvenience.

We will inform you of the latest situation again on Monday (June 10, 2024).

■ Suspended services

Niconico family services such as Niconico Video, Niconico Live Broadcast, and Niconico Channel

Niconico account login on external services

■ Current situation

In parallel with the recovery work, we are investigating the route of the attack and the possibility of information leakage.

No credit card information has been confirmed to have been leaked (Niconico does not store credit card information on its own servers).

Future information will be announced on Niconico Info and Official X (formerly Twitter) as it becomes available.

We deeply apologize to all users who were looking forward to the video posts and live broadcasts scheduled for this weekend. We ask for your understanding and cooperation until the response is complete.

[ghostofthemost141]

"What's this?" Alejandro demanded.

You were confused seeing Graves and the Shadow Company people surrounding the gate to you and Alejandro's base. You took notice of the Shadow people surrounding you and your colleagues. It brought a chill down your spine and you immediately got a bad feeling in your gut. Something was not right.

"This is the immediate future, step away from the gate." Graves announced.

What? You couldn't believe what you were hearing.

"What?" You cried out in disbelief.

"You heard me." Graves snared at you.

Your blood boiled with anger. You never heard such disrespect from someone, let alone someone who isn't even on your team.

"You're crazy, this is my base." Alejandro said.

You stood close to your boss, to hide the fact that you were gripping the small pistol you had in your back pocket. This could get ugly real quick but you would do it in a heartbeat to not only protect your Colonel but Task Force 141 that you have grown fond and close with.

"It's not a base," Graves started which only made you want to pop his head even more, "this is a sizable covert facility and I admire it. So I'm taking it."

No. No, he can't do that. There's no way he can do that. This was our base, our facility, our everything. Our home, you frantically thought. Your heart raced even faster than it did.

"You boys and gal," Graves made a point to smirk at you as he said that, "thank you for your service."

"No, no, no I don't take orders from you." Alejandro said.

You could feel that your Colonel was trying to keep himself cool and collected as he should be, but it was getting hard to do so.

"Didn't Valeria say that?"

He did not. You started to pull out your gun but felt a strong hand push down on your hand as Graves kept talking. You turned to see who it was and it was Sergeant Soap. His blue eyes pierced at you, and he shook his head at you. He knew what you were thinking and you felt as though he wanted to do the same thing as you did, but he knew it would turn real ugly. You sighed, removing your hand from your gun.

"What the fuck did you just say to me, pendejo?" Alejandro growled, stepping forward towards Graves.

You immediately pressed your hand onto the Colonel's chest, preventing him from doing any damage, Soap's small action towards you getting through to you. Alejandro looked down at your hand on his chest, knowing immediately it was your hand, but kept his scowl on Graves.

"You're out of line, Graves." Soap sternly said, approaching Graves as well.

"Don't do that. Don't.." Graves paused to glare at the three of you, "do that. No needs to get hurt here."

There was a small, intense pause with silence between all of you with the hard rain pattering on the road to accompany the silence.

"Are you threatening us?" Ghost's voice came from the corner.

The Ghost. Just from what you have seen in the short time y'all have done missions together, you knew he was a great fighter and solider. His alias name was very true to it's name.

"Soilder, I don't make threats."

Yeah right. You felt Alejandro shift his footing, causing your hand to fall from his chest. Same with Soap, realizing that it was taking two people to stop your Colonel from plummeting Graves.

"I make guarantees. So let's not do this." Graves eyed everyone, feeling the tension in the air get thicker.

"I'm calling Shepard." Soap announced.

Yes, their boss. Do it Soap.

"General Shepard sends his regards."

What?

"He told me y'all wouldn't take this well."

I couldn't believe it.

"He knows about this?" Ghost frantically asked, who visibly had the same reaction as you did or what you could tell from his mask.

"He has put me in command of this operation from here on out. So y'all need to stand down and it's time to let the pros finish this." Graves announced.

Chills rapidly went down your body. You were scared for once in your life. You didn't know what was going to happen. You stood closer to your Colonel who then pushed you back.

"Cam, stay back." Alejandro whispered and called you by your call sign so quietly that you could barely hear.

You had a feeling that your Colonel knew what was going to happen.

"Why the hell are we talking like this is some kind of negotiation? It's not. I've got my orders, and you have yours." Graves finished, adding fuel to the fire.

"And who the fuck do you think you are, cabrón?" Alejandro snared with rage, "my men are inside!"

"I'm afraid not."

Fuck.

"Your men have been...detained."

Oh my god. Oh shit. He is going to pounce. You just knew it. And he did. Before you could even jump in, you were pushed down onto your back, taking notice of Graves zip tieing his hands together.

"Colonel!" You cry out as shots were staring to fire.

You try to crawl over to help him, but a Shadow kicked you upside your head, causing your vision to blur. Shots were being fired, everyone was shouting, but the only person on your mind was your Colonel, Alejandro. Just as you were about to reach him, Graves took the butt of his gun and hit him up against his head with it, knocking Alejandro out.

"NO! Tu jodes!" You screamed, attempting to tackle Graves.

You managed to scratch his face until he kicked you down, hitting your head against the hard road. His gun was pointed at you and you felt your heart race as if you knew this was the end. At least you didn't go down without a fight.

Suddenly a gunshot rang out, hitting Graves right on his shoulder and knocking him back.

"Cam, let's go!" A deep accented voice called to you.

It was Soap and Ghost. You immediately took Soap's hand as he helped you to his feet. The two of you took off running, with Ghost trailing behind y'all. Soap tried to prevent you from looking back but you couldn't help yourself as you had seen your beloved Colonel get shoved into the G-Wagon. Before he was even fully into the vehicle, the three of you were gone from sight, disappearing into the deep woods of Las Almas. Once the three of you were far from Graves and the Shadow Company, the three of y'all stopped to recollect.

"Fuck! Alejandro." You croaked, coming to terms with what happened.

"We will get him back, Cam." Soap tried to comfort you.

And while you appreciate it, your mind was racing so much to even realize he was trying to pull you into a hug.

"Mierda.." You mumble, feeling the tears peak out of your eyes.

You truly felt defeated. You embraced Soap's hug, knowing he was trying to keep you calm.

"Alejandro is a tough guy. He will be okay." Ghost piped up.

"I know. It's just.." You paused, wondering if you should tell the two Brits.

Both Soap and Ghost were silent and looking at you, waiting for you to finish.

"Well, Alejandro and I.. we are seeing each other."

Soap's eyes went wide while Ghost remained neutral.

"I had no idea. You both hide it well." Soap complimented.

"You two act like no one can see the two of 'ou holding hands in the vehicle, but everyone knows." Ghost remarked.

You roll your eyes at him.

"Thanks, man." You say, "we need to make it to Alejandro's safe house. There's equipment there and everything we need to fight back."

"How do we get there?" Ghost asked.

"I know the way." You say.

"Well, lead the way Mrs. Vargas." Soap said.

You couldn't help but chuckle at that, knowing Soap meant good intentions behind it. As you led the men to Alejandro's safe house, you just hope they can manage to keep it a secret, like Rudy has, until you both retire.

END

A/N: A little drabble I came up with! I hope y'all enjoyed it.

[wombywoo]

I think you mentioned werewolves some time ago. Are they treated about the same as vampires ? Or do they face more/less bigotry? Are they the kind that can control their transformations or only can transform during a full moon? In your universe are they born as werewolves or turned ? (Big werewolf and quinncent universe fan…)

Waaahhhh I can't believe I've neglected werewolves for this long 😩 Apologies! Tbh, I've spent so much of my time daydreaming about my main 2 dudes, so I feel like I haven't given as much attention to other stuff in the lore ✨

But yes! Werewolves exist! In this universe, lycanthropy is contracted by being bitten by a bigass mutated supernatural wolf thing (™️) or by another werewolf. The mutated wolves are extremely feral and used to be rare enough that they only caused isolated problems throughout history, but a recent influx has seen a rise in attacks on the public (yikes). It's not a guarantee that someone bitten will turn either; sometimes they come out unscathed, sometimes they just die 💀

The appearance of a werewolf is pretty standard--giant dog-like beast. Fur color can vary; browns, grays, reds, etc. There are also variations in the body type--some are bipedal, others quadrupedal. For the most part, they're all extremely fast runners. They have big, glowing, completely white eyes, reminiscent of the moon. Claws, teeth, the usual. It is an extremely painful process to transform, but once you've endured the first year, it gets a bit easier.

Now that werewolves have been acknowledged under new abhuman recognition laws, there are several methods of 'treating' the condition. During a full moon, a registered werewolf is required to either--a. take a neutralizing pill (this won't stop the transformation, but it causes the patient to be rendered docile and nonaggressive during their cycle) or option b. visit a secure 'werewolf transformation center' (a fortified facility where patients can safely transform amongst other werewolves while under observation). A transformation is unavoidable for every full moon, but werewolves can also transform from various circumstances at any given time--under duress, anger, fear, as well as dog-like triggers--bursts of running, having an object thrown at them (frisbees have been banned in public places, sadly 😔) There's a separate pill that exists to limit these kinds of involuntary transformations (results vary).

Another aspect of werewolf documentation is the requirement that they have a 'handler'. As you can imagine, this sparks a lot of 'dog and master' debate, so it's not entirely well received--but a werewolf is required to have someone supervise them in their day-to-day life (in order to be on standby if a random transformation were to occur). This is usually a relative, but can also be an assigned service worker if there's no other option.

There is a fair amount of prejudice stacked against them--I think people are even more blatant in their bigotry against werewolves because of all the dog comparisons 😞They're viewed as 'feral and disgusting', and a lot of people attempt to conceal their conditions because of this. Vampires also face backlash, but there's more of a public fear for them, whereas werewolves are usually the butt of a joke, despite being equally dangerous 🥲

For protective measures against rogue werewolves, or even ones unaware they have the condition yet, a tranquilizing dart has been implemented that will sedate and incapacitate someone in the midst of a violent transformation. (This is why a handler is needed--to carry this tranquilizer and use it in case of emergency.) A rabies-like vaccine has also been developed to inject into a recently-bitten individual to prevent the lycanthropy from spreading.

I do have a werewolf character in mind for my little imaginary military task force--her name is Sheila; snarky, Irish, butch lesbian ✊ She was bitten as a teen (by one of the aforementioned mutant dogs) and so far, she has not disclosed her condition to the rest of the squad 😤 She's also ditched her government issued handler for a while (crusty old dude who she hates), and instead has been assigned a temporary new one--the enigmatic witch 'consultant' of the team known as Birdie....

More on that later (at some point) muahaha🙆‍♀️

[girlactionfigure]

🚨 G7 WARNED OF IMMINENT IRANIAN ATTACK ON ISRAEL WITHIN 24 HOURS 🚨

‼️The G7 countries have informed that Iran could mount a full-scale attack on Israel within 24 hours.

‼️General Michael Kurilla, Commander of U.S. Central Command, is expected to arrive in Israel on Monday to review plans and coordinate forces in the Middle East.

‼️U.S. President Joe Biden will convene his national security team in the situation room on Monday at 2:15 PM ET (9:15 PM Israel time) to discuss developments in the region.

‼️In a special report by Army Radio, Efi Triger noted that the IDF has recently deployed several units from the Home Front Command and the Jordan Lions Battalion to reinforce the defense of the Seam Line communities in the Sharon area. This action follows an urgent warning after recent targeted killings, indicating plans to carry out infiltration attacks on these communities, orchestrated by Iran and Hamas.

The Shin Bet received intelligence that terrorists from the Tulkarm area intended to infiltrate settlements in the Sharon Seam Line area. Consequently, soldiers have been stationed within these settlements to provide an immediate response to any incidents, given the proximity to Palestinian territories.

These units are tasked with serving as the last line of defense within the settlements, should all other security measures fail, learning from the events of October 7th. It became evident on the night between Friday and Saturday that there were genuine threats, as a terrorist cell from Tulkarm, eliminated on Saturday morning, was planning an infiltration attack in Israel.

Security officials told Army Radio that Iran and Hamas are attempting to divert Israeli attention to Judea and Samaria to provoke an intifada, hoping this will prevent an Israeli attack in Lebanon. Judea and Samaria risk becoming the main theater of war once again.

🔅EMERGENCY PREP - THE BASICS

via ISRAEL REALTIME - Connecting the World to Israel in Realtime

Things are scary, “well what am I supposed to do?”

Basic preparation IN ISRAEL:

.. Drinking water.  Buy some bottled water, 9 liters per adult (less for children).

.. Washing / flushing water.  Have a few buckets or fill a bunch of used water bottles, to wash or flush with - fill buckets when emergency starts, BUT not if you have small children who can drown in an open bucket.

.. Medicine.  If you take chronic medicine (every day), get the 3 month supply from your Kupah.

.. Money.  Have cash on hand in case ATM’s and credit cards aren’t working.

.. Food.  Canned, dry, etc, supplies on hand for a week per person.  Baby food? Formula? Special nutrition? Pet food?

.. Light.  Flash lights, candles. 

.. Communications.  Have a power-bank or two for your cell phone.  And maybe a radio (buy at hardware stores).

.. Shelter.  Make sure it is ready.

More here -> Supplies and Equipment for Emergencies.  https://www.oref.org.il/12490-15903-en/pakar.aspx

❗️EMERGENCY PLANNING

Links work in Israel.

.. Preparing your home for an emergency.  https://www.oref.org.il/12490-15902-en/Pakar.aspx

.. Help Prep your Neighborhood and Family Elderly.  https://www.oref.org.il/12550-20999-en/pakar.aspx

.. Know the Emergency numbers:

Police 100 emergency, 110 non-urgent situation

Ambulance 101

Medics 1221

Fire 102

Electric Company 103

Home Front Command 104

City Hotline 106

Senior Citizen Hotline *8840

Social Services Hotline 118

Cyber (hack) Hotline 119

🔸 MENTAL HEALTH HOTLINES, in case you are freaking out:

.. in English : Tikva Helpline by KeepOlim, call if you are struggling!  074-775-1433.

.. in Hebrew : Eran Emotional Support Line - 1201 or chat via eran.org.il

...

[marveltrumpshate]

DONATION DEADLINE REMINDER

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If you didn’t win an auction but would like to donate to any of our 30 amazing organizations anyway, we welcome donations made “just because” and will happily count them in our final total. Simply send your donation receipt to marveltrumpshate+donation@gmail.com by November 4, 11:59 PM ET, and we’ll include them! All we need is a screenshot, PDF, or email showing the name of the organization, date, and amount you donated; personal information (i.e., name, address, credit card/bank account number) can be redacted. We count donation matching in our total, so if your workplace matches your donations or you donate to a charity that's currently running a donation campaign, let us know when you send in your receipt.

This is also a reminder to first-place winners who haven’t sent in their proof of donation yet that the deadline to do so is November 2, 11:59 PM ET (what time is that for me?). For second-place winners, the deadline is Monday, November 4, 11:59 PM ET (what time is that for me?). If we don’t hear from you by then, your win will be void, and if you’re a first-place winner, the auction will be offered to the next highest bidder.

Please follow the instructions in the auction winner email we sent to the email address that you bid under. If you don’t see the email in your inbox or spam folder, contact us immediately by emailing marveltrumpshate@gmail.com, sending us a DM on Tumblr or Twitter, or pinging a server mod (@mod) on our Discord server. We strongly urge everyone to honor their winning bids, but if for some reason you can’t follow through, please let us know as soon as you can by emailing marveltrumpshate@gmail.com.

If you’re having trouble deciding on which amazing organization to donate to, Waterkeeper Alliance, Amputee Coalition, Electronic Frontier Foundation, and Refugee and Immigrant Center for Education and Legal Services (RAICES) currently have less than $50 in donations so far, and The Pad Project, Good Food Institute, Disability Rights Education & Defense Fund, and Global Fund for Women have less than $150. Clean Air Task Force, International Association for Suicide Prevention, and World Literacy Foundation have less than $300, and Transgender Law Center, and Autistic Self-Advocacy Network, and Undue Medical Debt have less than $400. We encourage you to give these 14 organizations some love! They each support some very worthy causes. To see more information on these charities, check out our list of organizations and our charity spotlights!

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Tierney Sneed and Tami Luhby at CNN:

The Supreme Court said Friday it will review the constitutionality of the Affordable Care Act’s no-cost coverage mandates for certain preventive care services, putting the landmark health care law in front of the justices again just as President-elect Donald Trump – who tried to repeal the law during his first presidency – returns to the White House.

While not an existential threat to Obamacare, the case could imperil access Americans have to cost-free preventive treatments and services, including HIV prevention medications, heart statins and various screenings for cancers and other diseases. The cost of some of these preventive services can be substantial, which would deter some people – particularly those with lower incomes – from accessing the care and slow the early detection of potentially deadly illnesses. The 5th US Circuit Court of Appeals ruled that the mandates in question, based on the recommendations of the US Preventive Services Task Force, violated the Appointments Clause of the Constitution because its members are not appointed by the president with Senate confirmation. The 5th Circuit’s ruling was directed at no-cost coverage requirements implemented after Obamacare’s enactment in March 2010.

The appellate ruling only blocked the mandates as applied to the challengers of the specific case, a Texas business and several individuals. But both the Biden administration and the challengers agreed that the 5th Circuit’s precedent set the stage for another party to sue to block the mandates nationwide, and both sides had asked the Supreme Court to take up the case.

Among the other no-cost coverage mandates that are put at risk by the 5th Circuit ruling are prenatal nutritional supplements, physical therapy for older Americans to prevent falls and lung cancer screenings that, according to the Biden administration, could save the lives of 10,000 to 20,000 Americans a year. A variety of other no-cost preventive services – such as well-baby visits and autism screenings for children, cervical cancer screenings and breastfeeding support programs for women, and flu, measles and chickenpox vaccines – are not at issue in the case.

[...]

‘Protections for millions’

In her petition that the Supreme Court take up the case, US Solicitor General Elizabeth Prelogar wrote that the 5th Circuit ruling “jeopardizes healthcare protections that have been in place for 14 years and that millions of Americans currently enjoy.” “This Court’s review is warranted because the court of appeals has held an Act of Congress unconstitutional and its legal rationale would inflict immense practical harms,” she wrote, later adding that the justices should also take up the case because the appellate “decision threatens to disrupt a key part of the ACA that provides healthcare protections for millions of Americans.” The challengers also urged the Supreme Court to take up the case, even as they argued that the 5th Circuit’s ruling was “well-reasoned and correct.” They pointed to the Supreme Court’s typical practice of granting cases where an act of Congress was deemed unconstitutional by a lower court. The Texas business, Braidwood, sued over the mandates because the company had moral objections to covering the HIV prevention medications – known as PrEP. The company also objected to paying for insurance that covered screenings for sexually transmitted diseases and other treatments related to conduct the employer morally opposed.

The MAGA majority on SCOTUS saw fit to review the Becerra v. Braidwood case, which would review Obamacare (PPACA)’s no-cost of HIV prevention medications, heart statins, and various screenings for cancers and other disease.

[nyoaeuikhoudu]

Elite Force highschool hc's

stealing this idea from @texanmarcusdavenport because I too have headcannons that I must scream into the void.

Centium city is located close enough to Logan High that the kids all go there. Bree and Chase changed their last names so they can go to Logan without being recognized. Their alias last name is "Douglas" because they're not creative and it's hilarious to see their teachers meet Douglas Douglas during conferences.

While the bionic teens are well known around the world, there wasn't quite as much coverage of them in the Philly area because it wasn't super local, so Bree and Chase are able to fly under the radar easier since they're not household names around here.

Idk if yall know what this is, but I feel like it would be fun to have their school structured under the academy system. In short, along with required core classes like math and english, you have to pick an area of interest or career for your other classes. You get cords for completing courses in your academy and most of your electives will be centered around that area of study, plus it helps with college applications.

As always, we'll do this in alphabetic order

Bree:

After much deliberation, she decided on the Natural Resources and Agriculture academy (green). She originally wanted to do Human Services and join ROTC for drill, but Chase wouldn't let her because that would draw too much attention to them.

- her adhd makes it difficult to retain information, so she struggles with classwork, especially lectures.

- in the gifted program w/ Oliver (Chase is jealous lol) no, the gifted program is not based on grades, it's IQ based.

- not super interested in her academy, mostly just in it for the field trips.

- thrives in English classes, can whip out a grade A essay in 20 minutes.

- expert procrastinator, usually doing her homework the morning it's due or in between classes

Chase:

Part of the Business and Computer Technology academy (blue). Though he'd probably thrive more in Engineering, he mostly just joined to work towards inheriting Davenport Industries like Donald wants him to.

- very booksmart

- sacrificed his perfect GPA for maintaining cover. (He's sitting at 3.5, though he's definitely capable of 4.0)

- not the most social, trying his best to lay low.

- started working the schools coffee shop and snack hut for the finance side of things

- refused to test for the gifted program, pissed that Bree did behind his back despite his insistence that they don't draw attention to themselves.

Connie/Skylar:

Part of the Arts and Communications academy (purple). While she's not particularly skilled in the arts, she does enjoy marching band and likes spending time with Jordan and Gus (who are also both in AnC, art and film respectively.)

- gets decent grades. B average

- took an interest in theatre after Gus's Skylar Storm movie, and now helps out on tech.

- works the booth for shows, light design and helps out with mic checks

- surprisingly good at history for an alien- she convinced Chase to join her at history bowl and their team obliterated the other schools.

- involved in multiple sports, namely wrestling and dance team, but colour guard is still her favourite.

- so used to the name Connie that she doesn't even realise when people call her that outside of school, though the twins still slip up and call her Skylar in class.

Kaz:

Part of Health Sciences academy (red) to help with work, though he's less serious about it. If given a choice, he'd choose not to belong to any academy and just go home. He focuses more on the sports injury side of things, learning how to prevent injury rather than treat it for the most part.

- his grades don't reflect his intelligence

- struggles in class due to his adhd

- the only reason he's not failing his medical courses is because Oliver helps keep him on task

- tried three other academies before MM, none seemed to fit him best.

- the only elective he takes outside of HnS is shop, he especially loves welding and blacksmithing.

Oliver:

Also in the Health Sciences academy (red). Though he originally joined because of Mighty Med, he actually found a love for field, focusing on the Medical side. He's been taking extra science classes for fun along with academy courses.

- gets good grades, but definately not perfect.

- terrible at anything that requires math

- builds study dates into his schedule to spend time with Kaz and help him learn the material.- has been in the gifted program since elementary school.

- was originally part of AnC with the rest of his friend group, but switched early his sophomore year when he started working at MM

- still participates in band, playing the oboe for concert and marimba for marching season.

Ages:

Skylar is a senior, everyone else is a junior.

[mariacallous]

Scott grew up in Baltimore, in the nineteen-eighties and nineties, “thinking that the government was an honorable place to work.” His grandfathers were Westinghouse engineers who conducted state-funded research. His parents were public-school music teachers. “Kids used to make fun of me for carrying a violin,” he told me. In college, he joined the R.O.T.C. and later entered the Air Force. He met his wife, a nuclear missileer, at their shared duty station in California. They both left active duty, but he continued to serve in the Air Force Reserve and went on to law school.

In 2013, he got a job as an attorney-investigator at the Consumer Financial Protection Bureau, the federal agency that monitors and investigates banks, payday lenders, debt collectors, and other businesses. The C.F.P.B. was established in 2010, under the Dodd-Frank Act, which sought to prevent the kinds of mortgage scams and unregulated investments that had led to the Great Recession. “My specialty was delinquent-loan services, people struggling to get mortgage modifications,” Scott said. (He asked to use a pseudonym because he is not permitted to speak with the press.) Later, he joined a team that focusses on servicemembers, a population that’s particularly vulnerable to predatory practices because of the nature of their work—modest but dependable income, frequent relocation, peer pressure to buy “the biggest truck.” A lot of enlisteds get married young and have kids young, or have to support their parents. “They are getting money for the first time,” he told me. “They get preyed on.”

Scott liked the idea of helping the military community, and knew that his own status as a veteran had given him an advantage at the C.F.P.B. “It got me in the door,” he said, though he still had to take an entrance exam. Veterans often receive a preference in government hiring and promotions, which partly explains why they make up about thirty per cent of the federal workforce. “The preference tries to put us back where we would be, had we not served,” Scott said. “It levels the playing field.”

He has worked for the C.F.P.B. ever since. The agency has sued companies for persuading veterans to sell their pension and disability payments, for charging military families more than thirty-six per cent interest on pawn loans, and for misleading servicemembers to take costly cash-out refinance loans on their homes. He recalled cases in which a debt collector had lingered outside someone’s house, pretending that his cellphone was a police walkie-talkie, or gone through the drive-thru of a Taco Bell to harass someone working the window. Since its founding, the C.F.P.B. has recovered more than three hundred million dollars in damages to military personnel and veterans.

I visited Scott last week at his home about an hour away from D.C. He looks the part of an airman: tall, fit, and fastidiously groomed. The house was also big and spotless, save for the area occupied by two yappy Chihauahas. He showed me the dining room, which doubles as his office. Next to his work laptop was a bound copy of the Fair Credit Reporting Act, whose worn lime-green cover was signed, in Sharpie, by one of the creators of the C.F.P.B.:

Keep ’em honest Elizabeth Warren

In early February, the Trump Administration had shut down the agency headquarters. Elon Musk pronounced it dead—“RIP CFPB,” he wrote on X—as his DOGE operation dug into the computer systems. “Employees should not come into the office,” Russell Vought, an outspoken critic of financial regulation and the C.F.P.B.’s new acting director, wrote in an “AllHands” e-mail. “Employees should stand down from performing any work task.” He then fired ten per cent of the bureau and oversaw a “wholesale termination of the contracts needed to keep the C.F.P.B. running,” a procurement staffer stated in a recent affidavit. Vought’s plan to terminate nearly everyone at the agency “within 36 hours” was halted by a federal judge.

Scott was spared but put on administrative leave. He could do little more than check his e-mail and wait. Normally he would be analyzing the complaints submitted by servicemembers, organizing outreach events, and discussing emerging concerns with colleagues at the Department of Defense and the Department of Veterans Affairs. Now nothing was getting done.

Several time zones west, in Honolulu, a financial coach and military spouse named Heidi Clemons was feeling alarmed by the news about the C.F.P.B. The packet of materials she gave to servicemembers and families was filled with links and references to the agency. “We’re trying to point our servicemembers to the most trusted information—historic, government-backed, lasting, not scam-based or profit-based,” she told me. Suddenly, in February, the links led to a “Page Not Found” message. All the YouTube explainers were gone. “It was a hot mess,” she said. “We had to pull the C.F.P.B. from all our resourcing.” Though the website was later restored, she didn’t want to take the risk of sending people to “a dead-end link.” “The impact of shutting down the C.F.P.B. on our servicemembers—it’s huge,” she said.

Scott had been to that part of Oahu for military exercises. Fort Shafter sits between the misty, dark-green mountains of the Ko’olau Range and the Ke’ehi Lagoon. “There’s a lot of sleazy businesses,” he said. Cash for gold, title loans, pawnshops. There are high-tech temptations, too: crypto and various money-making schemes on Venmo, Zelle, and other peer-to-peer payment apps.

Military personnel have long been vulnerable to shady enterprises and cons. Twenty years ago, the Government Accountability Office conducted a study for the Defense Department, based on “continuing concerns about servicemembers’ use of predatory consumer loans.” The report found that these products could lead to “severe negative consequences for the military as a whole (e.g., decreases in unit readiness and morale) as well as for the servicemembers themselves (e.g., criminal and adverse personnel actions, including possible discharge from the military).” Clemons told me that she had one client whose husband had stolen her identity; that another, a Reservist, owed money to a loan shark; and that apartment complexes near the base were having military applicants “waive away their rights” under the Servicemembers Civil Relief Act, which allows active-duty renters to break their lease when necessary. In 2023, of the eighty-four thousand or so complaints submitted by servicemembers to the C.F.P.B., the second-highest number came from Hawaii.

Earlier this year, a unit based at Fort Shafter—the 9th Mission Support Command of the Army Reserve (motto: “Pride of the Pacific”)—had asked for a C.F.P.B. representative to staff a booth at an upcoming resource fair for soldiers and their families. Scott arranged for a co-worker to be there with plenty of bureau literature and swag. The event took place on March 1st, but the rep never showed up—because no one was allowed to work. “They didn’t know where we were,” Scott said.

On Sunday, March 2nd, Scott and other remaining staffers received a confusing e-mail from Mark Paoletta, the C.F.P.B.’s chief legal officer:

On behalf of Acting Director Vought, I am writing to you to ensure that everyone is carrying out any statutorily required work, as he set forth in his February 8th email. … Employees should be performing work that is required by law and do not need to seek prior approval to do so.

A month earlier, Vought’s message had clearly said not to perform “any work” at all. Scott and other C.F.P.B. employees concluded that this new directive was an attempt to rewrite the story for purposes of litigation. A lawsuit filed by the workers’ union alleged that by issuing a stop-work order to all staff the Administration had violated the Dodd-Frank Act. A hearing was scheduled for the following day. “They’re trying to develop cover for the court case,” Scott told me.

Meanwhile, the invitation to do what was “statutorily required” let him resume some of his work. “I currently have three hundred and twenty-three unread e-mails,” he told me. “Usually, I try to clear them out as fast as I can.” We were in his dining room, sitting at a table covered in delicate white lace. He sipped coffee from a Pentagon mug. The complaint system for servicemembers and veterans had continued to function through the pause, though with noticeable glitches, and Scott was finally able to download the latest data. “Our all-time record is ten thousand complaints for any month,” he said. “And then January was nineteen thousand!” A lot of the submissions had to do with credit reporting. Late last year, the C.F.P.B. had forced Navy Federal, a credit union with a large presence on military installations, to return eighty-one million dollars in overdraft fees to consumers. Scott guessed that the settlement had prompted fresh complaints about other institutions.

But he wasn’t able to track the complaints as he normally would. Typically, when a complaint comes in, it is both reviewed by the C.F.P.B. and routed to the relevant financial company, which is then obligated to respond, and often does so through e-mail with an attached PDF. The many contracts Vought had cancelled, however, included one “with a software company who would scan all our documents for viruses,” Scott explained. “So, now we’re not able to open attachments.” What this meant, he continued, was that “Nobody’s monitoring, right now, to make sure the responses are timely or that they’re complete.” He shrugged.

We got in the car and drove southeast, past the main gate of Fort Meade, past a Northrop Grumman campus, past a strip mall advertising cheap tax preparation. “Some people get loans against their tax refunds—I worry about that,��� he told me. I asked him what the Federal Trade Commission or the Department of Defense might do to help members of the military, if the C.F.P.B. no longer could. “I mean, not a lot,” Scott said. “For some things, the servicemembers could go to their JAG”—the military’s law department—“and the JAG might write a letter, but that’s about all they’re going to do.”

Enough of the agency was still intact that Scott believed it could be brought back to life. The day after my visit, a federal judge in Maryland ruled that thousands of fired federal workers, including those at the C.F.P.B., would have to be temporarily reinstated; the Trump Administration appealed the order. Some probationary workers subsequently received a “notice of rehiring” that put them on paid administrative leave. Though Scott had recently interviewed for jobs in a city prosecutor’s office and at a credit union in need of a compliance officer, he still hoped to return to the bureau. “If this blows over, I can come back,” he said. He hated to think what would happen if the agency went away completely. “You’re going to see a boom and bust in crypto. You might see a recession,” he told me. “We’re gonna see foreclosures. People forget that. People don’t remember what that’s like.” ♦

The New Yorker is committed to coverage of the federal workforce. Are you a current or former federal employee with information to share? Please use your personal device to contact us via e-mail (tammy_kim@newyorker.com) or Signal (ID: etammykim.54).

[hold-him-down]

🤝 - Some help performing a basic task

✥ I Got Something For You ✥

Trigger warnings: semi-explicit noncon. 18+ only.

Notes: 2-ish months into West Peterson.

✥ ✥ ✥

When the doorbell rang, and Mr. Peterson inclined his head toward Leo, that should have been the first warning. The, “I got something for you,” should have been the second. Neither, though, prepares Leo for who greets him on the other side. When Leo opens the door to find a man, no older than he is, with short black hair and deep, charcoal eyes, wearing a Department of Labor Services branded t-shirt staring at him, there’s only a brief moment of confusion before the pieces fall into place.

✥ ✥ ✥ 

[Weeks Earlier]

“Come over here,” Mr. Peterson calls to him one night, abrupt but not exactly unexpected. Leo finishes the plate he is cleaning and sets it aside. He dries his hands, unrolls the sleeves to his crisp black button-down, pours himself a glass of wine, and makes his way over to the older man who currently holds his contract. 

He sits down cautiously, and Mr. Peterson offers him a genuine smile. “I'm– I'm just going to cut to the chase, Leo. I’ve been giving this some thought..." He reaches for his tablet and turns it on. “Now that you’ve been here for a few months, and you know– well, you know how fond of you I am,” he continues.

Leo returns the smile and nods, mouthing a soft, 'thank you,' to be on the safe side.

“I just have been thinking it’s too much for one person,” Mr. Peterson continues. Leo takes a breath, his eyebrows rising. “All of this. And, not just that. But they said, uh–” He runs his hand over the back of his neck and takes a long sip of his scotch. “Well, they said you like interacting with your peers. That you crave companionship. Something like that.”

A silence buds, and so Leo, eager to prevent the void from growing uncomfortable, says, “I suppose neither of those things are untrue.”

“Great. So I've– I’ve been thinking it has to be hard on you. When I’m away, or when I’m otherwise occupied. I thought it might be nice to… I don’t know, procure you a… a companion. To help keep you sharp, and uh– to help keep you happy, I guess,” he finishes. 

Leo swallows, tilting his head to one side, as Mr. Peterson turns his tablet so he can see the screen.

“I know that some might think of this as some type of perversion of justice,” he continues, immune to Leo’s curiosity shifting into something more tense. Leo takes a long sip of wine, peering at the screen. “I asked the director at Greenwood to pull a few options for us." Leo's jaw drops. "Before you say anything,” Mr. Peterson adds quickly, “I want you to know that I’m doing this as much for me as I am for you, and I don't... I'm not asking you for permission here, or for your blessing. I think it’ll be good for you to have someone here, but it’ll also be good for me.

"All that said, I do want your input." Mr. Peterson shows him the picture of a worker, and Leo forces himself to remain neutral, if for no other reason than to disguise his discomfort. At seeing this. At getting his first glimpse into this side of things.

“I don’t need you to make any type of final decision about the suitability of these boys,” Mr. Peterson continues. “My attorneys will review their files and ultimately determine if they’re a good match to my, and by extension, your needs. But I’d like to give you the opportunity to veto any, or if you feel strongly attached to any, I’d like to know that, too. Ideally, I'd like to find someone we both find attractive, and someone who may hold your interest through the duration of your contract.”

The evening is spent scrolling through the pictures of seventeen workers, with Leo mostly silent, entirely focused on keeping himself calm, and Mr. Peterson running a verbal pros and cons list for each one. Occasionally, he requires commentary from Leo, and in these instances, as subtly as he can, Leo tries remind him of their humanity. And all through it, Leo actively avoids thinking about the last time Mr. Peterson did this, about his own image appearing on the screen. What he had said then, with whom he had reviewed these files. Inevitably, those thoughts do creep in, but Leo shuts them down as quickly as he can.

And when Mr. Peterson closes the last of the files, glancing finally at a stunned silent Leo, and then, perhaps because he notices something in Leo's expression, excuses himself to bed, Leo finishes his wine in silence and promises himself he will not think about this night. Ever again.

✥ ✥ ✥ 

“Oh,” Leo says now, opening the front door wider. He shakes his head in a kind of detached disbelief, then steps aside, turning in time to see Mr. Peterson making his way to the foyer. “Mr. Peters–”

“You must be Will,” Mr. Peterson says, and Leo, in that moment, wishes he could be anywhere but in this room. Will is… around his age, he guesses. Around his height, around his build. Dark eyes, easy smile. He can’t help but think that Mr. Peterson has a type, and he also can’t help but wonder what– 

“Leo, introduce yourself,” Mr. Peterson says, sharply enough that Leo doesn’t hesitate to reach out his hand.

“I’m Leo.” He smiles, as he would greet any other of Mr. Peterson’s guests. “It’s nice to meet you,” he continues.

Will takes his hand, offering a gentle, if not a little bravely assertive, handshake. He watches Leo closely, holding his eye contact for just a moment too long.

“Well,” Mr. Peterson says, loud enough that Leo drops his hand abruptly, locking his fingers behind his back. “Looks like you two will be just fine.” He nods, as if to punctuate the thought.

Leo can’t shake the unease he feels as Mr. Peterson looks over Will once, then lets his gaze shift to Leo.

✥ ✥ ✥ 

They spend the first few days falling into a new routine. Leo, on edge since the day Will showed up, waits for the other shoe to drop, and Will puts a razor-sharp focus on assimilating with as little fanfare as possible. And he’s good at it.

Will, who, it turns out, is one year younger than Leo but has been in the system since the day after he turned eighteen, is, in a lot of ways, a perfect product of the training. He meets Leo in the kitchen every morning at seven, and while Leo makes breakfast, Will sets the table. While Leo cleans the bathroom, Will does the laundry. While Leo helps with the restaurant, Will does the yard work. 

Will seldom attempts to speak to him, but when he does, he keeps it light. It’s almost too easy, Leo thinks constantly, so at the end of their fifth night together, when Mr. Peterson stops Will from going to his bedroom with a terse, “Wait,” Leo immediately goes rigid. Partly because it has, he’s decided, been way too easy, and partly because Mr. Peterson is on his third scotch, but mostly because of the way Mr. Peterson looks not at Will as he speaks, but at Leo.

“Sit down,” Mr. Peterson says, and he inclines his head toward Leo. Will feels the danger here, too, Leo thinks. He’s hesitant in his step, maybe not noticeable to Mr. Peterson, but noticeable to Leo, who has watched him navigate the house with nothing but undiluted confidence for the last week. “I want to try something,” he says then. 

Leo nods, and Mr. Peterson says, “Finish your drink,” and so Leo does so without waiting, taking two big gulps of thousand-dollar wine, and then discarding his glass. “Would you like another?” he asks, and Leo eagerly agrees. Mr. Peterson looks to Will, who fills both of their glasses, and he watches as both of his workers body their drinks.

“I thought maybe,” Mr. Peterson eventually says (and here, he has the audacity to sound nervous), “I thought it might be nice for the two of you to get to know one another a little bit better.” He stands, stretching, and says, “I’m going to help myself to another scotch. When I get back, I trust you’ll both be ready to move things along here.” He looks only at Leo, with an expectant stare that makes the hairs on Leo's arm stand up.

Leo waits until Mr. Peterson has retreated out of sight before he speaks.

He looks straight ahead as he speaks, but he knows Will is listening. In his peripheries, Will leans forward, and takes a slow sip of his wine.

“Whatever happens," Leo hears himself saying, shoving his hands under his legs to keep them from shaking, "I want you to know that I didn’t want this." He keeps his voice low, loud enough to reach Will but not loud enough to reach the bar. “Whatever he makes me do, or whatever he makes you do, just know that I didn’t… I didn’t choose this.” There’s a panicked edge to his tone that grows with each word, and he knows he needs to lose it quickly. He takes the deepest breath he can, as his eyes track Mr. Peterson making his way back to the living room.

“I know,” Will responds, equally softly. And then, as Mr. Peterson lowers himself back down onto the sofa, he says, “It’s okay.”

✥ ✥ ✥ 

Leo waits until he’s sure both Mr. Peterson and Will have fallen asleep before he allows himself to stand, unsteady on his feet but eager for this night to end. He walks as calmly as he can to the bathroom before he doubles over the toilet, expelling everything his stomach has to offer before letting his forehead rest on his arm.

The feeling of Will’s hands on him, of Will’s mouth on him while Mr. Peterson coaches every movement. Mr. Peterson's voice, look at his face, and he likes that, and god, fucking perfect, and keep going, and use your tongue, and don't be afraid to go a little rougher, and fucking hands down, Leo, and you're doing good, and you're so fucking hot, and every word plays through Leo’s head on repeat and Leo wants to scream to make it stop, but he can't. There's no stopping it, and there's no end to it, and it reminds him, in some ways, of how... He thought he was done, but as images of Mr. Peterson's weight landing on the sofa next to him, of Mr. Peterson stopping Will to look at him, to touch him, as Mr. Peterson's guides Leo's hand, he doubles over the toilet once more–

A knock on the door pulls Leo back to the moment, and there's a second of sheer, perfect panic where he realizes he was too loud, and someone's awake, and things are going to get infinitely worse, before he looks up. And it's... it’s Will who stands in the doorway, backlit by the dull yellow of the hall light, and Leo can breathe again.

“I was that bad, huh?” Will asks, kneeling to a crouch next to him. Will smiles, an apologetic, soft smile that Leo isn’t accustomed to, because frankly, he's not accustomed to Will speaking to him at all, before he lets the back of his hand sweep the slightly overgrown hair from Leo’s neck.

“It’s not you,” Leo says, voice hoarse and still teetering on the edge of hysteria. “It’s me.” 

Will laughs then, and it's a genuine sound that Leo hasn’t heard in years, and something about it is all too much, setting off the months, or maybe years, of pent up anxiety, and Leo can’t stop the cascade of tears that silently begins to fall.

Will, for his part, sits next to him, and with no pressure for him to stop, and no one waiting for him to get his shit together, Leo cries harder.

Until eventually, he takes a long, deep breath, and he forces himself to calm down.

Several minutes pass, with both boys silent and processing the events of the evening, before Will finally says, “Did I hurt you?”

Leo replies, almost instantly, “No.”

“Okay," Will says. "Good.” He pauses, leveling his gaze on Leo. The silence draws out again, until finally, Will stands, putting his hand out to help Leo up. “I wish I could promise it won’t happen again,” Will says, quietly. “I… whatever I can do to make it easier, I’ll do. But I’ve been with guys like Mr. Peterson before, and I’ve seen the way he looks at you, and I… I think this wasn’t the end of something, it wasn’t a satisfaction of some dark repressed urge he had as a one time thing. I think it was the beginning of something.” Will opens the door and gestures Leo out first, but squeezes his shoulder as he does.

“I know,” Leo replies.

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[retroactivebakeries]

Corinsael Ashina

“I am the gold, I am the grain, ne’er has an imperfection marred me: a pilgrim of the Wyrd.”

Corinsael Ashina is a Strategist dying of damnatio memoriae. He is always being written out of history — official  histories, at first, spreading over to any attempt to describe him in the past, and eventually erasing his presence from the past itself. It is therefore his nature to live in the moment, to indulge in fleeting pleasures and give little thought to consequences. It’s really all he can do to keep going.

Some number of millennia ago — the precise count has been rendered unclear — the man who would become Corinsael found a hole in the world, a hole in his people’s history, and now, a hole in him. He told his people of it. He desecrated shrines to the gods of false histories. He was exiled, his name stricken from history, and as he fell into that hole he finally understood what it was: the world was wrong.

He spent the new few…decades? centuries? Doing…Magnum Bellum stuff? And on Earth, some history stuff? He can tell you about it, but it probably won’t stick. That’s why he’s out of the game, these days. Corinsael’s a vain one, and not getting the credit for any of his triumphs just finally got to him, one day. He still thinks the world is wrong and deserves to be destroyed, but the Host isn’t getting any help from him until they’ve apologized properly.

Over the centuries, Corinsael amassed the kind of wealth, political influence, and high-placed connections that an immortal can. Not all of it has been lost to his sickness: a ruined manor, a much put-upon valet, a half-dozen or so prominent figures in his contacts, of which some will still talk to him. Pride demands that he conceal his status as a perpetually embarrassed millionaire, putting on a lavish front despite being a teacher at a community college. (A temporary situation, of course).

Traits

Eide 3, Flore 3, Lore 1, Wyrd 4, Ability 0

Bane: Damnatio Memoriae.

Techniques: Shady Backrooms Dealings. Corinsael excels in matters of  intrigue, politics, corrupt dealings, cover-ups, and general manipulation.

Treasures:

His ruined manor, which can vanish and reappear somewhere else, as if it had always been there. 

His valet, who’s possessed of inhuman strength, speed, resilience, and sensory acuity when acting to protect Corinsael or to perform domestic tasks or uphold social obligations on his behalf.

A sniper rifle, forged from the metal of an ancient sword. It is precise enough to shoot and kill only part of a person: their memories, their cruelty, their hopes and dreams.

The stone head of one of the idols he desecrated, which has devoted itself to seeking atonement for the falsehood it once stood for. Its stony gaze pierces through illusions, strikes a fear into the hearts of liars that prevents them from speaking untruly, and reveals when weird time stuff is having an effect on things.

Sphere: The deep, subtle forces of λ-time and the unkindled impossibilities of alternate λ-histories. Corinsael tames the spirits and creatures that partake of such forces, winning them over to his service. Their appearance tends toward the insectile, the crystalline, and the clockwork. His most frequently used Arcana-pets include:

Intercalary bees build their hives in the gaps where moments of time have been erased. Their honey is a potent hallucinogen that occasionally comes with prophetic foresight.

His stasis spider’s webs that slow down time.

Time flies feed on people’s free time.

His retroactive scorpion’s poison takes effect before its sting.

His parallax moth flickers from place to place without crossing the space in between by skipping through the flow of time, and is large enough to ride.

Destruction: Erase an action done in the recent past, undoing anything directly caused by it.

Eternal: You’re free from aging, hunger, thirst, needing to breathe, fatigue, and most other requirements of human life. You get significant Edge in most endurance contests. Very little requires actual perseverance or Greater Steel — running a marathon is no harder than running down the block.

Sanctum: A monumental memorial to Corinsael, dominated by a colossal statue that bears his visage, around which the statutes of faceless kings kneel in supplication. Megalithic steles record those parts of his history that have been erased, and he can draw them into himself to begin mending his tattered history. The gate that leads to it lies in the catacomb-like basement of his ruined manor.

Infection

Infection 0: Corinsael’s sickness resists being his being recorded in history, but has yet to become efficacious in doing so. Undergrads tend to skim through the pages in their textbooks that mention things he was involved in, even that time he taught a whole seminar on the assassination of JFK. Written accounts have more typos than usual in the parts about him. People discussing him occasionally blank on his name for a second. This doesn’t cover the very recent past — thing that happened within the last few months are safe.

Infection 1: It’s sometimes hard to describe Corinsael’s past. Word documents crash or get corrupted. Things written on paper seem to almost throw themselves into puddles or into the way of falling coffee cups. Undergrads display no motivation in discussing historical records about him. 

Infection 2:  Corinsael’s bane erases him from written and oral histories. His actions and their consequences are either ascribed to someone else, left as unexplained historical mysteries, or omitted altogether. This also includes transcripts of anything he says.

Infection 3: Corinsael’s bane erases him from any written description or recounting of him in the past. When people talk about it, they tend to stumble on him — can’t remember his name, mix him up with someone else, lose their train of thought. (This includes people who are currently having those conversations with Corinsael, which complicates dating). This now creeps up further in time, leaving only the last week or two safe.

Infection 4: It’s starting to become unclear whether Corinsael is just being erased from historical records, or being erased from history itself. This is more ambiguous than his erasure from the record — there’s never anything conclusive, but enough to call his entire past into question.

Infection 5: There are moments in Corinsael’s past in which he no longer exists. He vanishes from them in a wracking fits and spasms, as if suffering from consumption and spitting up droplets of his history. It’s hard to predict how exactly this will impact the present — each change to the past plays by its own rules, like episodes of Doctor Who. The only consistency is that they make Corinsael’s life hell.

Infection 6: Corinsael’s erasure from history is no longer spasmodic; he’s constantly bleeding away the moments of his life, slowly but steadily. The erasure also creeps up into his more recent history, hitting things that happened just yesterday. If he does not return to the void, there’ll eventually be nothing left of his past, and his present will crumble into nothing.

Infection 7: Corinsael’s bane now erases him from things that happened an hour ago, a few minutes. The moment he put on his seatbelt. The moment he looked both ways before crossing traffic. The moment his heart last beat. There’s practically nothing that he can do at all without his bane erasing a crucial moment, including surviving the day.

[alex-wrestling]

Odyssey Jones was removed from the main roster for domestic abuse allegations from what I’ve read.

I’m going to link some resources down below for people who are going through abuse. Please stay safe.

United States:

UK:

Australia:

Mexico:

Here is a website to find one if I didn’t list one you can use:

Feel free to add on.

[girderednerve]

i have a very technical work complaint

okay so basically every modern library has a piece of software i am accustomed to calling an "ILS" (integrated library system), which is basically a big database that tracks all of our patron, item, and bibliographic records, with all of the various complex states these might be in, plus some front-end stuff so you can do things in the database conveniently. (the patron side of this, btw, is called an "OPAC," an online public-access catalog. yay, jargon!) so anyway we have this big database, right, with all of our records in it. one of the basic things that it's very helpful to do, if you work in a library, is run reports to pull lists of records from this database—all the patrons whose library cards are expiring, all the items at a given branch that have been marked missing, all the bibliographic records that don't have any items attached, all the items in a given section that haven't been checked out in a couple years, whatever. so at work we implemented this fun little tool in the OPAC (yay, jargon!) that shows you where a given item is physically located on a floor map of the library. to set up this tool, my boss had to do a bunch of configuring behind the scenes to tell the tool where a given item is, but there are a bunch of hard-to-catch items that don't render correctly because they have little errors in their records (for example, like fifteen years ago the librarian at my library would add paperbacks to the collection with a different material type than hardcover books; we stopped doing this, but there are still a few items with the old material type, and the new tool is confused by it & won't render their locations correctly). the thing i actually wanted to complain about is that this problem is incredibly easy to rectify in most ILSs: you would just run a report with simple parameters (items, filter for our branch, filter for material type) to find all of them, and then you would have a set of records that you need to make a predictable change to, so you would just batch update or whatever they call it. OUR ILS DOESN'T DO THAT! IT'S BEEN SET UP SO NO ONE IN A BRANCH HAS ACCESS TO RUN REPORTS AT ALL, MUCH LESS DO BASIC MAINTENANCE TASKS ON THE RESULTING REPORT! we have to email someone in central cataloging with our list criteria, who will then email us back an xls in 1-3 business days, which has made me fucking nuts—this system is slow, stupid, and prevents you from sitting there & tweaking your terms to get exactly what you want. it's dumb as hell. also i did a phone interview with a different branch in our system today & they told me that they handle weeding by having staff manually pull a cart of books, then manually check those item records to manually write down their total checkouts and last checkout date, like, i don't know, people trapped in 1903???????? i'm going to explode. these people cannot be serious. the excuse given apparently is that they don't want everyone to run reports at once & slow down the servers, but you can just, like. tell people when it's okay to run lists. also, most lists are not that taxing. if the servers choke & die every time i run a shelflist then you need to buy some more servers, buddy, that shit is not on me. but HONESTLY? a library in 2025? that can't RUN REPORTS in-house??????

fortunately our ILS is old enough that it's being sunsetted soon so they will be forced to switch to a twenty-first century catalog service, so maybe they'll let the librarians run reports, like adults, oh my god i'm so peeved. i think my willingness to poke around in the database has made me seem like a computer-loving egghead but actually what i love is not wasting time for no reason????