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simp-ly-writes · 1 year ago

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Betting on Hearts

Cross-over: Contemporary! Peaky Blinders x The Gentlemen (2024)

Pairing: Edward "Eddie" Horniman x afab!Shelby!Reader,

Summary: Being the main face to the (legal*) Shelby Business Empire, you too dabble with the less than legal side when prompted to (against your Brother's wishes). So when a certain Duke and Glass Family start stirring things up on your doorstep, you decide to seduce the duke into compliance but maybe, Eddie had the same idea for you too...

Warnings: 5000~ words, depictions of blood, overprotective siblings, emotional manipulation (seduction), reader is a bit... much. Probably some other tags that I am forgetting

A/N: more notes later.

Masterlist | Taglist Request | read-through and edited.

↳ The Shelby empire was dominant in many industries and with you being among the middle children, just behind your three older brother's, you mainly took to the newer parts of the business but you of course wrangled your way to the darker sides as well no matter how much your family protested (except for Polly, she openly cheered you on before her untimely passing)

↳ You were the Queen of import/export, the face to the Gin company and co-owner to your new digital sports betting app, your younger sister Ada had stepped in to help you manage it all. Using the earnings from the gambling you put it towards the branding and advertisements of your other departments and the greater Shelby corporation

↳ Arthur, the spirited yet your mentally-barley-afloat brother as he drank half the gin you supplied to his section of the business or found himself high as a kite while insisting on keeping your hands as clean as possible, coming with you on every assignment. Arthur maintained his "Garrison" bars across the country, moving on to establish high dining and was currently trying to stick the Shelby name into hotel management.

↳ John, a man that carried a huge heart with his irresistible charm and humor. He (while trying to convince the youngest, Finn to join him) managed the productions and manufacturing of each one of your industries. Supplying the parts, the bottles and ingredients, alongside the construction materials for every one of Arthur's expansions alongside supplying for your... darker dealings. The company, to a degree, was self-sustainable

↳ And of course, you had Thomas, the mastermind of the whole empire and the one you reported every minuscule detail to at the end of the day. You wouldn't call him kind, but he was considerate to a degree. You could always count on him to protect you where other's have failed but that also caused the greatest conflict between the two of you. It was hard, managing family verses business with him, lines always threatening to be crossed as your relationship was strained. Thomas respected you deeply, you had stuck with him when the rest of the family fell apart and offered him new perspectives to cultivating legal business. Yet he was too protective of you, he couldn't stand to lose you and openly admitted that you where his first choice if he needed to choose who would live

↳ In recent times, your family was playing chess against with a rising power called the Glass family who not so suitably started poking their fingers into your sectors, fixing your gambling sites with their newest expansions. You chuckled to yourself within Tommy's house. The men reported on the new business the Glass family had established, a boxing ring as you shoved Arthur in his chair with a teasing smile.

"Remember when you wanted to become a boxer, brother?" Arthur flips you the finger, a frown emerging from his moustache as he pours himself another drink, mumbling about you being a spoiled little brat yet you don't bother to catch the end of it.

The spy coughs, returning all of your attention back as Thomas glares at you both to hold yourselves, John's face has gone red trying to conceal his laughter at the childish faces you pull at him as Thomas throws his hand up, signalling for the man to continue.

"They have been having some difficulties in expanding their weed enterprise as well, we are still trying to get to the bottom of as to why this is as the documentation we have stolen shows nothing out of the sorts." A series of copied folders and photographs are then spread against the hardwood table as your painted nails sort through each stack, categorizing them in sequential order. Your green nail taps on top of a dead mans face thoughtfully stroking his cheek as you look at the bullet hole placed in between his eyes, "And what is the backstory to this incident exactly?" you comment.

The spy looks towards Thomas who already looks bored, there was nothing of significance to be said just yet but this newest bit of information had him raising as eyebrow. "Well, that kill was confirmed to be done by the new Duke of Halstead as I were one of the men stationed to dispose of it."

The spy throws another bundle on the table labelled, "The Duke." You excitedly snatch the manila folder quicker than anyone else at on the table as your eyes dart across every picture and piece of information you can grasp. Captain, Aristocrat, Medals... More Medals, Service, First Place, Honour Roll, Head Boy, Family Strain, oh... Your thoughts pause, cheeks heating when you flick up a stapled bundle of papers, a defined uniform, blue beret. The next page a Polo champion in college and deep black suit for the funeral. Slamming the folder shut, all eyes snap to the sudden noise.

"We are joining the upper echelon of society, brothers! Do let me meet up with him- I promise not to disappoint," you plead, already knowing that you are perfect for the mission. You and the Duke were both public-facing faces with one foot in reality and another in the pits. It would be a simple mission really, you convince yourself and your brothers as they immediately protest to the idea. Step in, seduce, convince him to sign-out and step out- as simple as that.

You look at Thomas, eyes strong, eyebrows furrowed as you level his stare. "You know I'm the only who can properly do this job, Thomas and if it does not work out, we can just kill them off just like the last, right?" The spy departs, bowing his head before speedily turning out of the room as tension only rises in the room, getting caught in your throat as you hitch your breath watching as Tommy's mouth moves into an echoing, "fine."

↳ So here you sat, in your covered box from the sun at the races. You clapped joyfully with a smile spreading your cheeks. You tip your hat down, seeing your bets adding up on your card as Ada cheered loudly beside you, leaning over the railing as she praises your chosen racer. Interviews for the sportsmen start as the Jockey casts a wink up at your sister. Ada throws down a business card the he clutches, placing it in his breast pocket with a tap to his chest before continuing to answer the post-race questions.

"Have yourself a date?" you tease out, picking up your spiked lemonade to hide your smile curving up into a knowing smirk. "Well you are one to talk sis, I heard down the grapevine that you had a certain duke chasing after you like Cinderella," Ada rebuttals, fixing herself a drink at the cart as you eye the three shots of vodka she stirs in, "isn't that a bit much for..." you look down at your wrist-watch, "...1PM? We do have dinner at Arthur's later tonight you know."

"We all can use a pick-me-up every now and then," she comments as you hum out, eyeing up your singular shot drink before shifting further down the couch to create space for her as she removes a pillow, placing it on her lap as she kicks off her heels and sets her feet up upon the coffee table. "Now, you didn't answer my question, go on then," she sasses, setting her drink down and leaning closer to you with knowing eyes gleaming into your own.

You roll your eyes, face going red while pushing her face away from your own as she laughs, "So you do have the hots for him!"

"No, its just that a second sun is bursting in my face and plus, we could never work," you retort, now refusing to meet her chasing eyes as she grips your hand. "Oh, come on (name)! details, details! don't leave me hanging here, thats brothers work," Ada presses forward just as your resolve crumbles. You place a hand to the bride of your nose, pinching as you eyes squeeze shut. "I won't repeat myself so listen closely," you start recalling the first day you met Captain and Duke, Edward Horniman.

↳ Running around your house, asking various staff members of your estate as to where your old mail had been distributed you felt around the thin papers and pages till you felt weight and lifted out the invitation from the stack. Mr. Johnston's Estate invites you to his quarterly festivities, your fingers trace over the pressed letters and seal before looking towards your closet

↳ You had worn a tailored dress that perfectly accentuated your body for tonights assignment. Within a closer inspection, various hand stitched black branches and birds spread across the top sheer level of fabric set to a black backdrop. Your hair was pinned upwards, showcasing the glowing skin of your neck and upper chest that you spent way too much time blending in with your makeup.

↳ You suitably leaned against the bar-top, feet already sore from the high heels you wore to make your legs appear longer and by the looks around the room, your plan of seduction was already in the works as a woman ordered a drink for the two of you. Her red lipstick simmering brightly under the dim lights, beckoning you in closer yet you held your resolve. Thanking her for the drink while placing a hand on her own before walking towards the neighbouring room. Feeling her stare as you left, you offered her a floating kiss before turning the corner.

↳ The windows were open as you walked down the long hall towards the cheers as multiple guests played various card games within the billiards room, you pulled the sleeves of your dress down further as you dropped the drink on a floating tray- it's sickeningly sweet taste formed a headache as you pinched your temples.

↳ You strolled around the room, smiling at every face that met yours, shaking hands with others as you enjoyed watching every. single. face. fall in recognition to who they were just flirting with. Stuttering apologies, you grew disappointed when their eyes drifted cautiously around the room for a threat of a man, one of your brothers. You scoff at this, turning towards the next.

↳ With the most recent man that was trying to capitalize on the half-attention you were giving him, absent-mindlessly nodding along to his business proposition as you both strolled around the estate, you found yourselves back at the entrance as your eyes snapped over to the late party-goers just making their arrivals, one of them being just the man you were waiting for as he stumbles through the open doors.

His beauty stumps you in person, the blurry pictures you obtained from at the table do not do the man justice as he practically glows under the warm lighting above. His hair tussled in a wind-swept way as your hands itch to fix every strand. Chocolate eyes are all you want to drink in before your attention is being called back as you start to glare at the intrusion.

"So what do you think, Mademoiselle Shelby?" the man asks to you, hand starting to drift up your arm, another on your leg before your eyes snap back down to his face from over the crowd. You rip your arm away from his touch, sending him a cold smile as you fix the lapels of his jacket for him, gripping the suit closest to his neck as you pull him closer to you. Any outside looker would think your reaction to be a romantic display yet by the sweat starting to form at his hairline, you were receiving just the reaction you wanted.

"I have no interest in working with a boy who already starts to sweat at the mere touch of a woman," and with that you drop him, watching as he falls into a group of people who all glare down at him, stepping around as he scrambles out the backdoor. You fix your appearance in your phones camera before making your way towards your mission.

Edward Horniman's Perspective

Re-buttoning his suit jacket, he places his keys in the hands of a staff-member while making his way up the stairs. Susie had been waiting for him in the lobby rather impatiently, her foot tapping against the tiled floors as she dully looked at the floral decorations that hug around the vaulted space before her eyes snapped to Eddie form spinning around to face her.

"You look a bit shit," she says while eyeing him up and down, taking notice to the small amount of blood beginning to form at his side with distaste.

"Remind me why we're here?" Eddie states, taking the conversation reigns as he begins to glance around the room. Susie begins walking closer to him, making their way out of the foyer.

"We are here to learn why Uncle Sam wants in to your estate and subsequently our Business," Susan replies, a subtle shake of her head as if ringing out the terrible idea of it all. Her feet start to falter as she instantly notices you stepping into the room behind them both with a champagne flute delicately place in your hand.

"Then whats his business?" Eddie pushes forwards, moving them both through the sea of people as Susie snaps her head back forwards, doing her best to maintain composure and not cause a scene as she allows Eddie to guide her further into the estate.

"Meth. He's made billions from it."

"Then what are you, Susan, a drug dealer with a heart?" Eddie question's, raising a brow as he stops to pick them both up a drink. A small smile spreading across his lips as they chime together before Susie proceeds to down the rest of it.

"Everything alright?" concern now rising in his features as he looks around the room, his gaze stopping, breath intaking sharply at the sight of you. He is unable to tear his gaze away as you turn your head to face him, you offer a small smile. Eyeing the man from his shoes, the seam of his pants, his neck that swallow deeply as your hand rises from your side, up to your collarbones as you delicately play with the necklace you wear. You finally stop at his eyes as you mouth a cheeky hello before turning around back towards the bar.

Susie still remains looking at her now empty drink, unknowing to Eddie's distraction by the sound of the crowd as she continues conversation normally. "We like money just as the next man, but his gear comes with a rather violent price tag. We stay in our lane because comparatively, its a peaceful one. We let him in, carnage will follow."

Susie now looks up, noticing that Eddie had not replied to her speech as she follows his gaze to your back as your fingers play with the lip of your cup. You laugh at whatever the bartender had just said to you before your glass has been topped off once more, you turn around, flashing them both a smile before slowly making your way closer to them.

Eddie takes a step forwards, wishing to meet you halfway before Susie reigns him in, nails digging into the arm of his suit jacket as she pulls him back to her side.

"I don't think you are quite ready for the big leagues, Captain-" Susan warns, looking at the side of Eddies face before he turns back to her, a charming smile accentuating his features before he speaks.

"I just killed a man, Susie. I think I can handle speaking to a woman-"

"Hm, well thats just not any ordinary woman, Edward. That is Miss. Shelby- the possible saviour to every one of our problems if we did not already... push some buttons," Susie states, smile waning as you get progressively closer, many people still try and gain your attention as you hold up your hand, wishing not to be disturbed.

"And there's room to fix that I'm sure, but what exactly did WE do?" Before Susie could answer, your heels are in front of Eddies dress shoes as you extend a hand forwards in greeting. "Miss. Shelby," Susie greets you with a composed look, her smile dropped as she tries to stare through you.

Edward picks up your hand, pressing a kiss on to the back of it as you hold hands for longer than necessary before pulling away. "Your Grace, Miss. Glass," you greet, "a pleasure it is to see you both here tonight." Your voice is like honey, hanging in the air as you smile at them both.

"The pleasure is all mine, Miss. Shelby," Edward replies, noticing Susie's mock indifference as she shifts her weight slightly under your faux-gentle eyes; sharped to a cutting-stare as you strike her down. "You two make a rather charming couple, if I may ask, how recent is this development?" you question, hiding your growing smirk in your drink as Eddie's gaze falls to your lips and the print you leave against the glass, snapping back up to your eyes- yours crinkle in a second greeting.

"You have yourself mistaken, Myself and Miss. Glass are merely business associates," Eddie clarify as you set your glass gently on the bar-top, hand brushing against Eddies bicep in the movement. Your eyes continue to lock on to one another, a silent conversation being played as you lean a bit closer, taking a deeper look at his features as you notice Eddies gaze roam your's own. In that moment, Susie decides to step back into the conversation.

"What does your family want?" she deadpans, eyeing the closing distance between you and Eddie with hardened eyes as her hand threatens to crush the glass in her hand. "Well, by the looks of it, your business had became my business, thanks to your mingling," you charismatically charm, hand hovering on Eddies arm as you adore the jealous look brewing inside her.

"And if you two are merely just associates, I think this calls for a more... personal discussion with the Duke since our businesses are now becoming tied together, is that not tight Susie?" you finish with as Eddie looks between the two of you, undeceiving of who to follow alongside. But by the look of your eyes snapping to his lips once more as you tongue swipes across your own, parting them slightly- his decision is made.

"I will be back in a moment, Susie," Edward says, following in-step as you lead him out of the crowded space. Just as Eddie reaches the hall, he casts his head back, sending Susie a knowing look as if to say, I'm fixing it before disappearing. Susie glares at your lipstick stained glass sat on the counter with distaste before being led towards Mr. Johnston by his assistant.

Your Perspective

Success, you cheer to yourself, as you loop your arm around Eddies arm, leading him towards a nearby study you know to be empty. The door softly closes behind you both. In the next moment, you pull Eddies arm to his side, shoving him against the door as it rattles from the impact.

Eddie's eyes are blown wide as he hisses out slightly in pain, forgetting about the gun-shot wound before becoming distracted by the feeling of your soft lips against his own. Your heels make you tall enough to capture his lips into a delicate battle of heated touches, your skirt being bunched up by Eddies hands, your gentle caresses of the stubble of his cheeks as playful bite his lower lip, wishing to explore more.

Gasping for air as you pull away, you further taint his skin a deep red to match his lips you coated in your lipstick. Pressing a kiss at the side of his mouth as he whispers out a tease before you trail over to his cheek, paving a way to his chin and down his neck as his head raises, exposing more skin for your greedy lips. He grips your hips, keeping you in place as you suck a mark onto the base of his neck. A soft moan escaping between his lips before an equally greater hiss as blood continues to pour out of his side.

You take a step back, gently opening his jacket, your eyes cast upwards, through your lashes as you playfully pout. You place a palm at his inner thigh, watching as his eyes grow in size as your hand drifts just past the growing bulge in his pants- stopping slightly before the wound as you hum out thoughtfully while looking at it.

"My, my, your grace. Whatever do you have here?" You rhetorically ask before pressing your hand into the opening, listening as he hisses out, hands swiftly moving off your hips and onto your hand as they pull your touch off of him side.

"You little fucking temptress," Eddie curses out, eyes darkened as his tongue sweeps over his lips, you take a few steps back. The Duke presses himself off the wall, taking wide strides as your hands begin to sweat yet you do not break eye contact. Continuing to swiftly walk backwards as best you can in heels before tripping over a rug and falling against the back of a chair.

Eddie's arms cage you in against the chair, your breath hitching as he places his face within the crook of your neck. His facial hair tickling your skin, a soft burn forming with every word he speaks, "Now tell me, Miss. Shelby, what is it you want from me?"

You swallow. Hard. Knuckles turning white at the force you grip the chair with before trying to compose yourself, a shaky breath you exhale conceal in a moan. Pressing a kiss to the shell of his ear, "I want you to kiss me, Eddie," you murmur, hand fixing those curls you wanted to from the start. Your fingers curl around a few strands within an instant as Eddie sucks a bruise to your neck, licking the area afterwards. "What are you here for?" he questions once more as you shake your head, wondering how far you can truly push this.

"No. That was not a proper kiss, sir. Kiss me." You state again, taking a deep breath in as victory when Eddie pulls away, eyes boring into your own, blood now tainting the band of his pants as your eyes flicker down to it. Your chin is gripped as Eddie pulls you into that proper kiss you were begging for but he pulls away too quickly as you press your lips together to hide your frown. Your cheeks were warm, hair a mess, your chest raises up and down like you had just ran a mile.

Edward appears in the same state as he stumbles back, hand gripping his side, eyes tipping down to your chest before snapping back up with a cold look- you needed to answer, couldn't have your signature bleeding out before he could sign.

"I need you out of my bettings, your grace," you breathily state, hand placed on your chest as you feel your heart-rate still bumping fast. You take deeper intakes of air, feeling for your heart starting to slow as you watch Eddie crunch over, blood-loss starting to make him go dizzy.

You swiftly stand and hobble towards the desk, finding a first aid kit in one of the lower drawers as you unknowingly bend down in front of Eddie as he curses you out once more, you look back, murmuring an apology before standing up straight and beginning to make work of his clothes, jacket off, tie discarded and shirt unbuttoned, you pluck the remnants of the bullet out from his side.

Eddie grits his teeth together, hands curled into fists as he watches you work, your tweezers poking into his muscle. "If you would stop watching me so closely, maybe I could focus more and poke you less," you sass, looking up at his while blowing the hair out of your eye. Eddie fixes the stand behind your ear before raising his hand once more. "Well just a minute ago you were practically on your knees begging for me to look at you," Eddie responds with a smirk, you huff and maintain your work, gathering the last bits of metal before treating the area and wrapping his torso snuggly.

The Duke's blood stains your hands as you look down at them thoughtfully. The thick liquid cascades off your fingertips, falling onto your dress, marking a pair of birds. "You owe me a new dress," you say, wiping your hands with the small cloth the kit provided before taking a stand. You start to walk away before Eddie grasps your arm, you pause mid-step, feet now plated in wait.

"Thank you, Miss. Shelby. I will sign to never fix a game with your business if you promise to have a meeting with Miss. Glass and I," Edward compromises, letting go of your arm and watches as you walk towards the exit, "I don't think you are in any position to make compromises, nevertheless demands, Edward. But... I'll keep you updated on my decision," and with that you close the door softly behind yourself for him to get dressed. Pressing your forehead to the wooden surface, you grip your hands into fists before settling your head up high as you descend the stairs and move towards the coat room. You sneak your keys and coat before slipping out the side door and walk towards your car.

A series of hastened footsteps against the gravel have you rolling down the window to your Range Rover, foot on the brake, hands on the wheel- ready to make haste. You do your best not to be surprised when the Duke's face greets you on the other side, a I know something you don't smile resting on his features as you raise a brow to it.

"We never exchanged contacts," he states to you casually, as if it were the weather. You hum out, analyzing his statement while look out the windshield before looking back at him. Light rain begins to fall as you press a lingering kiss to his cheek, "I will find you in due time, you and Miss. Glass. Have a good night, your grace." And with that, you roll up your window, and drive off underneath the moonlight.

You take a deep sip of your drink as Ada sits still, mouth open as you swear to be losing circulation to you hand. Pins and needles start to form at your fingertips form how tightly she holds onto your hand. "Fuck, sis. Sounds like you got him good," Ada says, barley able to conceal her smile.

Shaking your head you take a deep sip of your near melted lemonade before clearing your throat and checking for the time, it would be an hour's drive from here, you both had to leave soon. "Well even if I have managed to, 'get him good...'" you raise your hands in quotations, starting to mock even the idea of you two together yet your heart speaks otherwise, beating rapidly in your chest as you recount the feeling of his lips on yours. The small hickey on your neck still bruised as you wonder if his has healed since then.

Ada raises a brow, watching as you absent-mindedly reach up towards your mark, fingers circling around the mark as you continue to speak, "...Tommy would never allow it-"

"Fuck what Tommy thinks, he's not you. Do YOU want to see him again?" Ada cuts you off, a serious look taking over every feature, tightening into sharp lines- as if daring you to say else-wise.

You refuse to meet her eyes, looking outside to the near empty tracks, "I mean..."

↳ Taglist: @daffodilstark @leavemeslowly @iamasimpingh0e @kneelarmhstrung @surazim

↳ A/N: What did you all think? I am quite happy with this being a standalone but I am willing to write a pt.2. If you have any ideas as to where it could go- send an ask, DM, or comment and I'll see what can be done further :) (i'm also taking a break soon... maybe... probably).

#eddie halstead x reader #x reader #eddie x reader #the gentlemen #the gentlemen x reader #netflix #the gentlemen netflix #fanfic #fanfiction #simp-ly #simp-ly-writes #eddie horniman #eddie horniman x reader #edward horniman #edward horniman x reader #the gentlemen 2024 #peaky blinders #the gentlemen 2024 x peaky blinders

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crossedwithblue · 5 days ago

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Balance and fair exchange in the Scholomance

I'm fresh out of my first Schlomance reread, and, besides thoroughly enjoying the foreshadowing, I have Thoughts about the ideas of balance and fair exchange in the series. I'm a scientist by training and Indian by origin, and both of those come into it.

Let's start with mass in and out of the school (because that was the start of this post). The seniors grow over the course of their four years - a lot. Between 14-18, most boys are going to have several growth spurts, and many girls might have reached their adult height but they're still gonna fill out into their adult body types*. We also know that the freshers get a very strict weight allowance. My hunch is that the collective allowance is the difference between the incoming freshers' and the outgoing seniors' bodyweight. This would preserve the mass balance within the school such that no mana is wasted on importing or exporting excess mass (more on that in a minute!). Presumably, the collective allowance is equally distributed, since if the enclavers had managed to skew it in their favour, it would most definitely be mentioned, plus this also fits well the the Scholomance's impersonal fairness**.

N.B. the collective weight difference is probably less than you'd think. Personally, I (cis woman) was already pretty much my adult height and weight at 14, it just redistributed itself a lot, from my tummy to my hips and breasts. The boys would definitely mostly pick up in height, but given that they were all fed up before initiation, even they'd probably have less of an overall weight difference than you'd think - which is why the weight allowance is so strict. Then again, any equipment they're taking out with them helps push it back the other way.

*(the malnutrition they face in the Scholomance would admittedly hamper their growth, but given that the boys manage to shoot up in height and the girls get their periods, and that they're able to keep up with the gruelling study and graduation-prep schedules, and that multiple people including El are described as putting on muscle, it does seem like the school is at least able to feed most of the kids well enough that they're reasonably physically healthy)

**(slightly but not entirely jossed by the short story in Buried Deep - it could still work in the framework of my theorising, if this was changed after the events of canon).

I typed all that out and then questioned how it makes the magical ingredients work. Food and water take care of themselves via excreting about the same, as do gases. My extremely morbid answer to this is, uh, dead bodies. And the mana generated by the schoolwork and the suffering and the deaths, I guess. IIRC people can very easily lose stuff or have it turn 'bad', so perhaps that helps with the balance of mass too.

Back to my point about importing/exporting mana - mana is a lot of things in this universe. It's bargaining power, it's currency, and it's energy. My headcanon is that the mana is actually the energy that should be wasted through heat when you do anything at all, but wizards have the ability to recapture and store it somehow - which is why everyone has a finite capacity. They're just, IDK, as close to a perpetual motion machine as you can get? Obviously far from perfect, since they have the aforementioned finite capacities and still need to eat and sleep etc. But the way mana is talked about is pretty similar to the way energy behaves in the real world, IMO. The Scholomance isn't terribly hard-rules with its magic but this is one that's pretty consistent. You can't create or destroy energy. You can't get something from nothing, that's not how the world works. Someone, somewhere, will pay the price, even if you don't know who or how or when.

This ties in extremely effectively with the idea of balance and fair exchange that's central to the Scholomance series. The enclaves can't stabilise space out of nothing, they have to borrow it from somewhere (plus the whol deal with enclaves in the first place - I won't spoiler it, but iykyk!). You have to do the work to build up mana, and malia use has its own terrible costs. Aadhya and El's friendship starts with Aadhya brokering deals; El respects and likes her because she does so fairly. The universe is a horribly, wonderfully fair creditor and debtor: it will always, always collect, but equally, it will always fulfil your sacrifices, even if you could never predict how any of it comes due.

For me, El and Orion being drawn to each other fits in with this. As far as I know, karma doesn't work in a 'sins of the fathers' way - why would it, when you're going to be reborn into your own consequences anyway - but El was born to be Orion's counterweight and balance, the golden child illuminating the dark void. I'm sure it's been said before it's very obvious symbology, but still worth including in the list of points. (Side fun fact: 'Deepthi' means 'light' in Sanskrit - it's a very popular name, and of course is El's prophetic ancestress's name. Coincidence? Maybe, but I doubt it very much).

I've talked quite a bit in my previous post about how it seems like Indian philosophy is very deeply baked into the worldbuilding of the series, and I think this is another case of that. Everyone's heard of the concept of karma, of course, but the Western notions of it aren't Thee most accurate. Karma in Indian philosophy and religion is a more long-term thing, there's no 'instant karma'. Most of the time, the karmic consequences won't manifest until your next life at the earliest - and, of course, your karma determines what your rebirth will be. Good karma means you end up as a noble animal, bad karma means you'll be an earthworm, just as examples. This also fits in pretty well with the mana/malia stuff, which I talk about a bit more in the first post.

So that turned into a bit of a ramble of science and culture in the worldbuilding, less coherent than I originally planned, but I hope someone finds this interesting and/or food for thought! Novik does such a masterful job of weaving allegory and philosophy into this series, I love it.

#scholomance #naomi novik #el higgins #galadriel higgins #orion lake #a deadly education #the last graduate #the golden enclaves #buried deep #naomi novik scholomance #via shitposts #i love this series so goddamn much and not least for how thoughtfully it incorporates my cultures in a very deep way

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mostlysignssomeportents · 1 year ago

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The CHIPS Act treats the symptoms, but not the causes

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/07/farewell-mr-chips/#we-used-to-make-things

There's this great throwaway line in 1992's Sneakers, where Dan Aykroyd, playing a conspiracy-addled hacker/con-man, is feverishly telling Sydney Poitier (playing an ex-CIA spook) about a 1958 meeting Eisenhower had with aliens where Ike said, "hey, look, give us your technology, and we'll give you all the cow lips you want."

Poitier dismisses Aykroyd ("Don't listen to this man. He's certifiable"). We're meant to be on Poitier's side here, but I've always harbored some sympathy for Aykroyd in this scene.

That's because I often hear echoes of Aykroyd's theory in my own explanations of the esoteric bargains and plots that produced the world we're living in today. Of course, in my world, it's not presidents bargaining for alien technology in exchange for cow-lips – it's the world's wealthy nations bargaining to drop trade restrictions on the Global South in exchange for IP laws.

These bargains – which started as a series of bilateral and then multilateral agreements like NAFTA, and culminated in the WTO agreement of 1999 – were the most important step in the reordering of the world's economy around rent-extraction, cheap labor exploitation, and a brittle supply chain that is increasingly endangered by the polycrisis of climate and its handmaidens, like zoonotic plagues, water wars, and mass refugee migration.

Prior to the advent of "free trade," the world's rich countries fashioned debt into a whip-hand over poor, post-colonial nations. These countries had been bankrupted by their previous colonial owners, and the price of their freedom was punishing debts to the IMF and other rich-world institutions in exchange for loans to help these countries "develop."

Like all poor debtors, these countries were said to have gotten into their predicament through moral failure – they'd "lived beyond their means."

(When rich people get into debt, bankruptcy steps in to give them space to "restructure" according to their own plans. When poor people get into debt, bankruptcy strips them of nearly everything that might help them recover, brands them with a permanent scarlet letter, and subjects them to humiliating micro-management whose explicit message is that they are not competent to manage their own affairs):

https://pluralistic.net/2021/08/07/hr-4193/#shoppers-choice

So the poor debtor nations were ordered to "deregulate." They had to sell off their state assets, run their central banks according to the dictates of rich-world finance authorities, and reorient their production around supplying raw materials to rich countries, who would process these materials into finished goods for export back to the poor world.

Naturally, poor countries were not allowed to erect "trade barriers" that might erode the capacity of this North-South transfer of high-margin goods, but this was not the era of free trade. It wasn't the free trade era because, while the North-South transfer was largely unrestricted, the South-North transfer was subject to tight regulation in the rich world.

In other words, poor countries were expected to export, say, raw ore to the USA and reimport high-tech goods, with low tariffs in both directions. But if a poor country processed that ore domestically and made its own finished goods, the US would block those goods at the border, slapping them with high tariffs that made them more expensive than Made-in-the-USA equivalents.

The argument for this unidirectional trade was that the US – and other rich countries – had a strategic need to maintain their manufacturing industries as a hedge against future geopolitical events (war, but also pandemics, extreme weather) that might leave the rich world unable to provide for itself. This rationale had a key advantage: it was true.

A country that manages its own central bank can create as much of its own currency as it wants, and use that money to buy anything for sale in its own currency.

This may not be crucial while global markets are operating to the country's advantage (say, while the rest of the world is "willingly" pricing its raw materials in your country's currency), but when things go wrong – war, plague, weather – a country that can't make things is at the rest of the world's mercy.

If you had to choose between being a poor post-colonial nation that couldn't supply its own technological needs except by exporting raw materials to rich countries, and being a rich country that had both domestic manufacturing capacity and a steady supply of other countries' raw materials, you would choose the second, every time.

What's not to like?

Here's what.

The problem – from the perspective of America's ultra-wealthy – was that this arrangement gave the US workforce a lot of power. As US workers unionized, they were able to extract direct concessions from their employers through collective bargaining, and they could effectively lobby for universal worker protections, including a robust welfare state – in both state and federal legislatures. The US was better off as a whole, but the richest ten percent were much poorer than they could be if only they could smash worker power.

That's where free trade comes in. Notwithstanding racist nonsense about "primitive" countries, there's no intrinsic defect that stops the global south from doing high-tech manufacturing. If the rich world's corporate leaders were given free rein to sideline America's national security in favor of their own profits, they could certainly engineer the circumstances whereby poor countries would build sophisticated factories to replace the manufacturing facilities that sat behind the north's high tariff walls.

These poor-country factories could produce goods ever bit as valuable as the rich world's shops, but without the labor, environmental and financial regulations that constrained their owners' profits. They slavered for a business environment that let them kill workers; poison the air, land and water; and cheat the tax authorities with impunity.

For this plan to work, the wealthy needed to engineer changes in both the rich world and the poor world. Obviously, they would have to get rid of the rich world's tariff walls, which made it impossible to competitively import goods made in the global south, no matter how cheaply they were made.

But free trade wasn't just about deregulation in the north – it also required a whole slew of new, extremely onerous regulations in the global south. Corporations that relocated their manufacturing to poor – but nominally sovereign – countries needed to be sure that those countries wouldn't try to replicate the American plan of becoming actually sovereign, by exerting control over the means of production within their borders.

Recall that the American Revolution was inspired in large part by fury over the requirement to ship raw materials back to Mother England and then buy them back at huge markups after they'd been processed by English workers, to the enrichment of English aristocrats. Post-colonial America created new regulations (tariffs on goods from England), and – crucially – they also deregulated.

Specifically, post-revolutionary America abolished copyrights and patents for English persons and firms. That way, American manufacturers could produce sophisticated finished goods without paying rent to England's wealthy making those goods cheaper for American buyers, and American publishers could subsidize their editions of American authors' books by publishing English authors on the cheap, without the obligation to share profits with English publishers or English writers.

The surplus produced by ignoring the patents and copyrights of the English was divided (unequally) among American capitalists, workers, and shoppers. Wealthy Americans got richer, even as they paid their workers more and charged less for their products. This incubated a made-in-the-USA edition of the industrial revolution. It was so successful that the rest of the world – especially England – began importing American goods and literature, and then American publishers and manufacturers started to lean on their government to "respect" English claims, in order to secure bilateral protections for their inventions and books in English markets.

This was good for America, but it was terrible for English manufacturers. The US – a primitive, agricultural society – "stole" their inventions until they gained so much manufacturing capacity that the English public started to prefer American goods to English ones.

This was the thing that rich-world industrialists feared about free trade. Once you build your high-tech factories in the global south, what's to stop those people from simply copying your plans – or worse, seizing your factories! – and competing with you on a global scale? Some of these countries had nominally socialist governments that claimed to explicitly elevate the public good over the interests of the wealthy. And all of these countries had the same sprinkling of sociopaths who'd gladly see a million children maimed or the land poisoned for a buck – and these "entrepreneurs" had unbeatable advantages with their countries' political classes.

For globalization to work, it wasn't enough to deregulate the rich world – capitalists also had to regulate the poor world. Specifically, they had to get the poor world to adopt "IP" laws that would force them to willingly pay rent on things they could get for free: patents and other IP, even though it was in the short-term, medium-term, and long-term interests of both the nation and its politicians and its businesspeople.

Thus, the bargain that makes me sympathetic to Dan Aykroyd: not cow lips for alien tech; but free trade for IP law. When the WTO was steaming towards passage in the late 1990s, there was (rightly) a lot of emphasis on its deregulatory provisions: weakening of labor, environmental and financial laws in the poor world, and of tariffs in the rich world.

But in hindsight, we all kind of missed the main event: the TRIPS (Agreement on Trade-Related Aspects of Intellectual Property Rights). This actually started before the WTO treaty (it was part of the GATT, a predecessor to the WTO), but the WTO spread it to countries all over the world. Under the TRIPS, poor countries are required to honor the IP claims of rich countries, on pain of global sanction.

That was the plan: instead of paying American workers to make Apple computers, say, Apple could export the "IP" for Macs and iPhones to countries like China, and these countries would produce Apple products that were "designed in California, assembled in China." China would allow Apple to treat Chinese workers so badly that they routinely committed suicide, and would lock up or kill workers who tried to unionize. China would accept vast shipments of immortal, toxic e-waste. And China wouldn't let its entrepreneurs copy Apple's designs, be they software, schematics or trademarks.

Apple isn't the only company that pursued this strategy, but no company has executed it as successfully. It's not for nothing that Steve Jobs's hand-picked successor was Tim Cook, who oversaw the transfer of even the most exacting elements of Apple manufacturing to Chinese facilities, striking bargains with contractors like Foxconn that guaranteed that workers would be heavily – lethally! – surveilled and controlled to prevent the twin horrors of unionization and leaks.

For the first two decades of the WTO era, the most obvious problems with this arrangement was wage erosion (for American workers) and leakage (for the rich). China's "socialist" government was only too happy to help Foxconn imprison workers who demanded better wages and working conditions, but they were far more relaxed about knockoffs, be they fake iPods sold in market stalls or US trade secrets working their way into Huawei products.

These were problems for the American aristocracy, whose investments depended on China disciplining both Chinese workers and Chinese businesses. For the American people, leakage was a nothingburger. Apple's profits weren't shared with its workforce beyond the relatively small number of tech workers at its headquarters. The vast majority of Apple employees, who flogged iPhones and scrubbed the tilework in gleaming white stores across the nation, would get the same minimal (or even minimum) wage no matter how profitable Apple grew.

It wasn't until the pandemic that the other shoe dropped for the American public. The WTO arrangement – cow lips for alien technology – had produced a global system brittle supply chains composed entirely of weakest links. A pandemic, a war, a ship stuck in the Suez Canal or Houthi paramilitaries can cripple the entire system, perhaps indefinitely.

For two decades, we fought over globalization's effect on wages. We let our corporate masters trick us into thinking that China's "cheating" on IP was a problem for the average person. But the implications of globalization for American sovereignty and security were banished to the xenophobic right fringe, where they were mixed into the froth of Cold War 2.0 nonsense. The pandemic changed that, creating a coalition that is motivated by a complex and contradictory stew of racism, environmentalism, xenophobia, labor advocacy, patriotism, pragmatism, fear and hope.

Out of that stew emerged a new American political tendency, mostly associated with Bidenomics, but also claimed in various guises by the American right, through its America First wing. That tendency's most visible artifact is the CHIPS Act, through which the US government proposes to use policy and subsidies to bring high-tech manufacturing back to America's shores.

This week, the American Economic Liberties Project published "Reshoring and Restoring: CHIPS Implementation for a Competitive Semiconductor Industry," a fascinating, beautifully researched and detailed analysis of the CHIPS Act and the global high-tech manufacturing market, written by Todd Achilles, Erik Peinert and Daniel Rangel:

https://www.economicliberties.us/our-work/reshoring-and-restoring-chips-implementation-for-a-competitive-semiconductor-industry/#

Crucially, the report lays out the role that the weakening of antitrust, the dismantling of tariffs and the strengthening of IP played in the history of the current moment. The failure to enforce antitrust law allowed for monopolization at every stage of the semiconductor industry's supply-chain. The strengthening of IP and the weakening of tariffs encouraged the resulting monopolies to chase cheap labor overseas, confident that the US government would punish host countries that allowed their domestic entrepreneurs to use American designs without permission.

The result is a financialized, "capital light" semiconductor industry that has put all its eggs in one basket. For the most advanced chips ("leading-edge logic"), production works like this: American firms design a chip and send the design to Taiwan where TSMC foundry turns it into a chip. The chip is then shipped to one of a small number of companies in the poor world where they are assembled, packaged and tested (AMP) and sent to China to be integrated into a product.

Obsolete foundries get a second life in the commodity chip ("mature-node chips") market – these are the cheap chips that are shoveled into our cars and appliances and industrial systems.

Both of these systems are fundamentally broken. The advanced, "leading-edge" chips rely on geopolitically uncertain, heavily concentrated foundries. These foundries can be fully captured by their customers – as when Apple prepurchases the entire production capacity of the most advanced chips, denying both domestic and offshore competitors access to the newest computation.

Meanwhile, the less powerful, "mature node" chips command minuscule margins, and are often dumped into the market below cost, thanks to subsidies from countries hoping to protect their corner of the high-tech sector. This makes investment in low-power chips uncertain, leading to wild swings in cost, quality and availability of these workhorse chips.

The leading-edge chipmakers – Nvidia, Broadcom, Qualcomm, AMD, etc – have fully captured their markets. They like the status quo, and the CHIPS Act won't convince them to invest in onshore production. Why would they?

2022 was Broadcom's best year ever, not in spite of its supply-chain problems, but because of them. Those problems let Broadcom raise prices for a captive audience of customers, who the company strong-armed into exclusivity deals that ensured they had nowhere to turn. Qualcomm also profited handsomely from shortages, because its customers end up paying Qualcomm no matter where they buy, thanks to Qualcomm ensuring that its patents are integrated into global 4G and 5G standards.

That means that all standards-conforming products generate royalties for Qualcomm, and it also means that Qualcomm can decide which companies are allowed to compete with it, and which ones will be denied licenses to its patents. Both companies are under orders from the FTC to cut this out, and both companies ignore the FTC.

The brittleness of mature-node and leading-edge chips is not inevitable. Advanced memory chips (DRAM) roughly comparable in complexity to leading-edge chips, while analog-to-digital chips are as easily commodified as mature-node chips, and yet each has a robust and competitive supply chain, with both onshore and offshore producers. In contrast with leading-edge manufacturers (who have been visibly indifferent to the CHIPS incentives), memory chip manufacturers responded to the CHIPS Act by committing hundreds of billions of dollars to new on-shore production facilities.

Intel is a curious case: in a world of fabless leading-edge manufacturers, Intel stands out for making its own chips. But Intel is in a lot of trouble. Its advanced manufacturing plans keep foundering on cost overruns and delays. The company keeps losing money. But until recently, its management kept handing its shareholders billions in dividends and buybacks – a sign that Intel bosses assume that the US public will bail out its "national champion." It's not clear whether the CHIPS Act can save Intel, or whether financialization will continue to hollow out a once-dominant pioneer.

The CHIPS Act won't undo the concentration – and financialization – of the semiconductor industry. The industry has been awash in cheap money since the 2008 bailouts, and in just the past five years, US semiconductor monopolists have paid out $239b to shareholders in buybacks and dividends, enough to fund the CHIPS Act five times over. If you include Apple in that figure, the amount US corporations spent on shareholder returns instead of investing in capacity rises to $698b. Apple doesn't want a competitive market for chips. If Apple builds its own foundry, that just frees up capacity at TSMC that its competitors can use to improve their products.

The report has an enormous amount of accessible, well-organized detail on these markets, and it makes a set of key recommendations for improving the CHIPS Act and passing related legislation to ensure that the US can once again make its own microchips. These run a gamut from funding four new onshore foundries to requiring companies receiving CHIPS Act money to "dual-source" their foundries. They call for NIST and the CPO to ensure open licensing of key patents, and for aggressive policing of anti-dumping rules for cheap chips. They also seek a new law creating an "American Semiconductor Supply Chain Resiliency Fee" – a tariff on chips made offshore.

Fundamentally, these recommendations seek to end the outsourcing made possible by restrictive IP regimes, to undercut Wall Street's power to demand savings from offshoring, and to smash the market power of companies like Apple that make the brittleness of chip manufacturing into a feature, rather than a bug. This would include a return to previous antitrust rules, which limited companies' ability to leverage patents into standards, and to previous IP rules, which limited exclusive rights chip topography and design ("mask rights").

All of this will is likely to remove the constraints that stop poor countries from doing to America the same things that postcolonial America did to England – that is, it will usher in an era in which lots of countries make their own chips and other high-tech goods without paying rent to American companies. This is good! It's good for poor countries, who will have more autonomy to control their own technical destiny. It's also good for the world, creating resiliency in the high-tech manufacturing sector that we'll need as the polycrisis overwhelms various places with fire and flood and disease and war. Electrifying, solarizing and adapting the world for climate resilience is fundamentally incompatible with a brittle, highly concentrated tech sector.

Pluralizing high-tech production will make America less vulnerable to the gamesmanship of other countries – and it will also make the rest of the world less vulnerable to American bullying. As Henry Farrell and Abraham Newman describe so beautifully in their 2023 book Underground Empire, the American political establishment is keenly aware of how its chokepoints over global finance and manufacturing can be leveraged to advantage the US at the rest of the world's expense:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/10/weaponized-interdependence/#the-other-swifties

Look, I know that Eisenhower didn't trade cow-lips for alien technology – but our political and commercial elites really did trade national resiliency away for IP laws, and it's a bargain that screwed everyone, except the one percenters whose power and wealth have metastasized into a deadly cancer that threatens the country and the planet.

Image: Mickael Courtiade (modified) https://www.flickr.com/photos/197739384@N07/52703936652/

CC BY 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/

#pluralistic #chips act #ip #monopolies #antitrust #national security #industrial policy #american economic liberties project #tmsc #leading-edge #intel #mature node #lagging edge #foundries #fabless

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katealpha · 3 months ago

Text

Art by Vissiny15

Story by Owl

—-————————————-

“Greetings, Namaari.”

“Oh, hello there, Ja—”

Before she could even finish greeting the dragon, Namaari found herself stopping dead in her tracks. For the most part, the day had been fairly normal, as far as peace time in Fang went. Rebuilding relations, overseeing exports, and the occasional dragon returning from the far north. Kumori’s exile was a few years back, and with it was the departure of several dragons. Even then, in the time passing, few have returned, most asking for forgiveness. Of course, with someone like Sisu managing those relations, almost all of them were welcomed back. Still, it had been a few weeks since the last arrival of an exiled dragon, so it may be likely those that did not return would never do so. The fact that any had returned in the first place was a boon in and of itself, but it’s clear the majority had made their choice.

That said, of the many dragons, Jagan was the one Namaari knew best, if only because he was the one dragon aside from Sisu herself who regularly visited Fang. It was seemingly fitting, then, that the two were blood siblings, barring the same personality if not differing in temperament. However, despite their acquaintanceship, they didn’t see each other too often, as Jagan mostly made his home at Heart. Of course, that was where Sisu and Raya lived, so Namaari understood, but part of her really wanted Jagan to stay at Fang more often. He was always so kind to her, and it was nice to have an overall positive presence by her side, especially after everything that has happened in the past decade. She supposes she could just ask him to stay, but she didn’t want to come across as imposing, and the last thing she wanted was to push someone away by being demanding. At the very least, she did have other important matters to focus on, so her mind never wandered too much.

His return now was one she didn’t quite expect, not to mention her mind was pondering other matters, so she didn’t quite get a full look at him. But it was only after he directly called her name, and she did look back at him, did she find herself a bit lost for words. It wasn’t that he looked particularly different; in fact, had Namaari been paying even the slightest bit less attention, she may not have even noticed it at all. The way his body curved and bunched up, it almost disappeared into the natural flow. And yet, seeing it now, there was no way she could fully unsee it.

Situated right in Jagan’s midsection was a defined, round belly.

Namaari was caught so off guard by this sudden change, she didn’t realize she was starring right at him, or his belly to be more exact. Or how long she was starring at him. She did eventually snap back when she heard him chuckle, bringing her attention back to his face. “Oh, that? Heh, yeah. Sorry,” Jagan remarked. “Got real hungry on the way here and kinda…gorged on a whole bunch of fish. I think some of them are still swimming around in there…”

“O-Oh! I see…” Namaari nodded, glancing up at Jagan before returning her gaze to his middle. Certainly, she has had times when she ate a bit too much, but she’s never been bloated like that before. Granted, he was a dragon, and if he swallowed them all whole…that would make sense, right?

“Oof, still a bit of movement, for sure,” he noted, wincing a tad. “Care to give it a feel?”

Her eyes widened, a small blush coming over her. It seemed a little odd to her to ask for that, but maybe it was a normal occurrence for dragons? Again, if he was able to just eat a whole load of fish like that, perhaps it wasn’t too unusual for others to do so, and for them to feel each other’s bloated bellies in response. It certainly wasn’t normal sounding from Namaari’s perspective, but then again they were two different species that have not integrated for over half a millennium. There was going to be a culture divide, and if she wanted to bridge that, she had to be willing to get in close.

Collecting herself, she reached out, and felt Jagan’s belly. It was a touch cool, soft and surprisingly fluffy. It reminded her of the times Sisu would pull her into a hug, yet still different. Her mind started to trail on the possible differences in dragon coats, before her attention was recaught by a sudden kick to her hand. However, it felt off from what she expected, not quite a fish pressing against anything, but rather…something like a foot?

Regardless, she still pulled and jumped back, mainly from surprise. As she did, Jagan started to laugh, but in a well-meaning way. “Sorry, sorry,” he replied quickly, still chuckling as he wiped a tear from his eye. “I came up with that off the cuff, and I just had to pull that one someone. You were just the first person I stumbled across.”

“So…that’s not fish in your belly?” She asked, if a bit hesitant.

“Well, yes and no,” he responded with a shrug. “I did, uh…have a few fish on the way in, but no harm there, right? Expectant father’s gotta eat, ya know?”

“Yeah, I—” she started, before the realization hit her hard. “W-Wait, wait…expectant??”

“Yep,” he nodded, a big smile on his face. “That’s what I actually am. Pregnant. Big one too, if you couldn’t tell.”

Namaari opened her mouth to speak, yet she was lost on words for a moment. “I…wha…I didn’t…um, congratulations?” She tried. “S-Sorry, I’m just…a bit surprised. I know dragons are different species and all that, but uh…didn’t know male dragons could get pregnant.”

“Not normally, no,” he went on to explain. “But with all the dragons that left with Kumori, it’s a desperate time these days. Dragon numbers are sparse, even with the ones who have returned. Plus, after five hundred years…we all agreed it’s time for a new generation to begin. I volunteered to be one of the bearers. Raya did, too, if you recall.”

Namaari nodded. “Yes, of course. Her and Sisu…they told me about this big ceremony that had and everything. You did the same?”

“More or less,” he remarked. “Raya’s a bit behind me, but she’s already about as big as me. Baby dragons typically incubate for about a year, so we were bound to catch up to one another this late in. About a month away from being due, so I think I may hang around Fang until the baby comes, long as you’re willing, of course.”

“O-Oh, of course!” She replied quickly, nodding. “All of dragonkind is welcome in Fang, after all. You are no different, Jagan.”

“Wonderful!” He grinned. “Oh, and not to cut our chat short, but there is some matter I need to discuss with others. Main reason I came here. Let’s catch up another time, yeah?”

“Of course.”

“Awesome. See ya!”

And with that, the dragon hurried down the hall, Namaari standing by as she watched him go. As he disappeared into the halls of the palace, her mind began to churn and think, this new information really getting to her for some reason. She supposed Raya getting pregnant wasn’t that odd, even considering her partner was Sisu. If anything, her being with Sisu to have a baby made more sense, considering her nature as a dragon. Now, though, here was Jagan, a male dragon with no partner, who was pregnant himself, through apparently the same ritual as Raya took.

Namaari wasn’t exactly one for romance; perhaps, sometime down the line, for Fang’s legacy she would see to siring a heir, but at the current moment, it did not feel to be in the cards. Despite that, the idea of having a child, a new life grown within her…something about it intrigued her. Certainly, she would not be as foolish as to seek someone out just to experience this, as that would be absurd. However, a dragon child? She could easily have one herself, and get someone like Sisu or Jagan to oversee the ritual just as simply. Not to mention there is a need for a new generation of dragons, and who knows how many others are willing to tackle a year long pregnancy. Plus, assisting in such a noble goal would surely improve Fang’s standing with the other territories; not that that is her main intent, but it would certainly be a helpful byproduct.

Even with all these benefits to doing it, Namaari surprised herself with being so willing to partake in this. The fearless and bold leader of Fang such as her, pregnant? And at an extended length at that? It almost sounds absurd! Yet, the more she thought about it…the more a desire grew within her…slowly, she hovered a hand over her midsection, taking a moment to imagine it large and heavy…

“Chief Namaari!”

Her daydream was quickly interrupted by a call from down the hall, grounding the woman once more. She started to take off, but paused for just a moment longer, looking back down the hall Jagan disappeared down. She then shook her head, and hurried off.

Surely, it was just a spur of the moment fantasy…right?

#animated movies #pregnant #disney #pregnancy #raya and the last dragon #raya sisu #fanart #magical pregnancy #Jagan #dragon #namaari #mpreg

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argumate · 3 months ago

Note

you've mentioned china's trade surplus effectively ripping of Chinese citizens (they are generating product but not getting access to it, I think?) and I was wondering... why? what benefit does this give to the people of China? I assume they operate that way for a reason but I don't know what the reason could be

I think it was a sensible strategy for at least 25 years or so, from when open policy began under Deng Xiaoping in 1979 up to the Beijing Olympics and Global Financial Crisis in 2008, then it became increasingly unhelpful but it was difficult to stop.

China was coming out of 30 years of Maoism when Deng took over, disconnected from the global economy, lacking infrastructure, and extremely underinvested: the GDP of Japan was 5x larger than China and it was exporting 10x as much as China, despite China having 8x more people.

under open policy, China created special economic zones across the south east and encouraged companies from Hong Kong and Taiwan to setup low cost operations there, then later invited US and European corporations too but always with strict conditions to partner with local businesses and state owned enterprises to ensure technology transfer (the classic story of investing in China is to do the work of setting up a partner company then later have that partner company take over the market).

at the same time as opening up to global markets (and getting rid of rations and price controls and switching to a market economy domestically), China poured resources into infrastructure investment, building factories and highways and bridges and docks and harbours and the largest high speed train network on the planet and vast cities of apartments to accommodate the biggest urbanisation project in history and so on and so on.

this transformed China at vast scale with shocking speed into the industrial powerhouse that it is today, with GDP 4x Japan and exporting 5x as much, an incredible turnaround from the 20th century, when cyberpunk authors were predicting the Japanese economy would eat the world.

but all that infrastructure and property development required to urbanise and industrialise was a massive investment, funded by the government and paid for by the hard work of Chinese households, whose incomes were suppressed by a range of mechanisms: fixed exchange rates and tariffs making imports expensive and helping exporters, bank spreads giving low deposit rates for savers and cheaper loans for favoured industries, the hukou system taking away rights from rural residents so they could be used as cheap labour in the cities much like undocumented immigrants in the US, and of course the labour movement was carefully controlled by the government and suppressed when its demands grew too strong.

the Chinese people paid for the transformation of China, but by and large I'd say it was well worth the effort: even if the politically connected elite siphoned off the top and wealth inequality increased, the overall quality of life improved enormously from the Maoist dark ages that preceded the open era.

the transition from the rationed economy to the market economy was rough, and inflation and unemployment not always perfectly managed, but the unrest of 1989 was relatively minor in the scheme of things, compared with the chaos and dysfunction of Russia's failed attempt to cross the chasm and liberalise its economy.

so that's the Chinese success story, which I think peaks in 2008, when China is inviting the world to the Beijing Olympics while America is busy spending billions of dollars invading other countries and has just blown up the global economy thanks to poor regulation of its banks inflating a mortgage bubble into a credit crisis.

however at this moment of triumph, China faces a quandary that it has not resolved to this day: the development model that has made it the industrial envy of the world has run its course and must be changed in order to continue steady growth, but it is very difficult to change course when politically connected vested interests owe everything they have to the continuation of these policies!

but first, why were exports important to China's growth in the first place? I think there are multiple reasons for this:

foreign companies that setup operations in China were focused on the export market because the Chinese people at the time had very little money, making them great workers but poor customers, and although the domestic market would steadily grow in size over time, the size of the global market and the suppression of local wages would continue to favour exports.

the government knew that the export market was highly competitive and would keep industry honest in a way that the domestic market might not, avoiding the problems seen in the USSR where protected industries could manufacture low quality products and faced little pressure to improve: "Made in China" would start cheap and then work its way up in quality, a classic tale of market disruption, as we see today with China subsidising Tesla factories as a rabbit for its own greyhounds (BYD) to chase.

possible geopolitical advantages to taking over critical industries for the entire world, along with an ideological bias in favour of production over consumption which means industries will habitually produce more than the domestic market can consume, requiring exports to meet the demand for demand.

so the problem was that over time China began to run out of opportunities for productive investment: when every person has an apartment and every river has a dozen bridges and the country is exporting a trade surplus of a trillion dollars a year it's time to slow down investment driven growth, shift towards consumption, pay households more, and let increased demand from Chinese consumers drive future development.

however, this requires reversing the transfers currently in place that take money away from households to subsidise exporters, which would immediately hurt export competitiveness and risk businesses downsizing and spiking unemployment -- much as we're seeing with Trump's tariffs in the opposite direction, any poorly managed change causes an economic downturn immediately but the potential economic growth is delayed, leading to a painful adjustment period and possible political instability.

as a result the Chinese government has been announcing plans to raise consumption and deleverage (reduce debt-fueled investment driven growth) for fifteen years now but it has balked from actually doing it every time, so the trade surplus mounts ever higher and popular discontent grows as -- much like America -- the people see the economic growth opportunities that their parents enjoyed now receding into the distance.

in theory the US could force this adjustment unilaterally, ideally by controlling financial investment from China (which is how China balances its enormous trade surplus) or much more clumsily by the kind of tariffs that Trump is levying (although bilateral tariffs may just push trade into more circuitous paths through other countries to evade them).

if the US no longer accepts Chinese trade surpluses then the government will have no choice but to shift the economy in a different direction, and perhaps it will be easier to justify the transition when the disruption can be blamed on a foreign adversary.

so if I had to summarise I would say that extracting wealth from the people can be beneficial if it is invested productively, but ultimately what makes an investment productive is that it meets demand from the people, that is what an economy is for, and we see countries experience growth booms when demand drives investment to meet demand and stagnate when demand drops and investment becomes increasingly unproductive, pushing on a piece of string in the hope that people will spend money they don't have if you just build enough shopping malls.

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network-rail · 4 months ago

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200th Anniversary Train Pageant

A while back, I was asked about making a train pageant, and now that I am no longer busy, it is time to have one! The way this will work is there will be a series of categories for trains to compete in, and you can submit your favorite british trains to some or all of the categories, along with making your case for why they should win. After four days, submissions will close (last day is March 5th), the judges will go over all of the competitors and decide who the winners are! This is a great way to celebrate the 200th anniversary of the railways, so you can submit british trains from any time, although depending on when they're from they might fit in some of the categories.

Of course, we here at Network Rail also will be submitting a few of our favorite trains, along with a few of our maintenance vehicles.

Below are the categories we'll be using to judge this pageant, so when you submit a train, make sure to mention which categories you're planning to run in, along with why that train deserves to win that category.

Best livery:

Trains in britain have been painted all sorts of colors over the years (especially during privatization), so show us your train's best outfit! We'll also be giving a special bonus prize to the train with the best heritage livery, so if you've got a train with a historic paint job, show us!

Most graceful:

Some trains elegantly glide along the rails, while others are big, clunky, and loud. While both are beautiful in their own ways, this category is for the trains that can go 200km/hr without spilling your cup of tea. (this isn't a requirement, just an example of graceful movement)

Strongest:

A fairly simple category to explain, this one is for the train with the most muscles and by muscles we mean watts.

Hottest:

This is for the train that is the most sexually attractive (not hottest in terms of temperature). Sure, the train might not have many other redeeming characteristics (though it could), but that doesn't stop you from thinking "I can fix it". Or perhaps "we can make each other worse."

Best singer:

You know how when a train leaves a station, and you hear that nice sound as it pulls away? Or perhaps it has the cutest honk you've ever heard? Well, this category is for the train that makes the best noises. Audio submissions are appreciated (we have not been on every train and do not remember what all of them sound like).

Most comfortable:

For the trains that just lull you to sleep in their warm embrace, this category is for the trains that make you feel safe and cozy.

Best at ironing clothes:

Some trains are not that comfortable, but hey, at least those seats are good for ironing!

Most hated that isn't the Pacer:

The Pacer was perhaps the most hated train on the british network, and now that it's finally dead we need to see what train will take its place. Or whichever one was most hated before it came along. Or the one that, whenever you got on board, had you think "Well, at least this isn't a Pacer!"

Most accessible:

Accessibility requirements are very important – they're what finally did in the Pacer, after all – so it's essential that we celebrate the trains that are the most accessible, especially when so many are not.

Most likely to catch fire:

We've all occasionally felt like we were on the verge of bursting into flames, but some trains actually manage to do so. Of course, some trains might be supposed to do this, but sometimes spontaneous combustion does happen by accident.

Best export:

British trains aren't limited to only Britain, and some of them have have travelled far and wide around the world. Whether it's purpose-built like the Thailand export of the Sprinter; or just a british train running on foreign rails (like the 125's about to be crushed by Mexican GEVO's) any train that's been in service elsewhere can enter!

Cleanest:

Whichever train is the least dirty, or best at keeping other things clean! We don't want to spread diseases now do we?

And, finally:

Most popular:

We'll put all of the submissions for this category into a poll and let the people decide which one is the best!

Of course, we might also decide to give out other prizes along the way, for example if we find a submission particularly funny.

#network rail #trains #railway 200 #network rail train pageant

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naoyaslut · 8 months ago

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The Hills Chapter 25

pairings: ran haitani x wife(reader)

wordcount: 2k

warnings: n/a

a/n: continuing the hills 2 years down the line and we're still getting caught up in some bonten bullshit.

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25

Your heart raced as you stared at the two agents, fighting to keep your expression neutral. "Of course," you said smoothly, gesturing to the chairs in front of your desk.

"Please, have a seat." you said.

As they settled in, you sank back into your own chair, mind whirling. What could Ran possibly have done to warrant ATF involvement? And why was he turning himself in?

"Mrs. Haitani, we have reason to believe your husband may be involved in some illegal weapons trafficking," Agent Vancouver began. "Have you noticed anything unusual lately? Any suspicious packages or late night meetings?"

You shook your head, forcing a puzzled frown.

"No, nothing like that. Ran's been busy with work, but that's normal for him."

Agent Harrod leaned forward, his intense gaze boring into you.

"And what exactly does your husband do for work, Mrs. Haitani?" Agent Harrod's voice held a note of skepticism.

You met his gaze steadily, your heart pounding beneath your calm exterior. "He's in imports and exports. Mostly consumer goods from China and Southeast Asia." The lie rolled smoothly off your tongue, practiced and polished over the years.

"Mhm," Agent Vancouver murmured, jotting something in his notepad. "And you've never noticed anything... out of the ordinary with these shipments?"

"No, never," you replied, allowing a hint of confusion to color your tone. "Is there a specific reason you're asking about this? Has something happened?"

The agents exchanged a glance. "We're not at liberty to discuss the details of our investigation," Vancouver said carefully. "But we have credible information linking your husband to some very dangerous people."

You forced a look of concern onto your face, though inside your stomach churned with anxiety.

"Dangerous people? I don't understand. Ran's just a businessman."

Agent Harrod's eyes narrowed slightly.

"Mrs. Haitani, we have evidence suggesting your husband may be involved with the Bonten syndicate. Are you familiar with that organization?"

Your breath caught in your throat, but you managed to keep your expression neutral.

"I've heard the name on the news, I think. Some kind of criminal organization?" You shook your head. "But I don't see how Ran could possibly be mixed up with anything like that."

Vancouver leaned forward, his voice softening.

"We understand this must be difficult to hear. But we need your cooperation. If you know anything at all that might help our investigation, now is the time to speak up."

The tension in the room was palpable.

A chill ran down your spine, but you kept your composure, arching an eyebrow skeptically.

"I find that hard to believe," you said, injecting just the right amount of indignation into your voice. "Ran is a businessman, not some kind of criminal."

Agent Harrod's eyes narrowed slightly.

"With all due respect, Mrs. Haitani, you might be surprised what your husband is capable of."

You felt a flicker of anger at his insinuation, though you knew it was likely true. Still, you clung to your role as the innocent, oblivious wife.

"I think I know my own husband," you said coolly.

Vancouver held up a placating hand.

"We understand this must be difficult to hear. We're just trying to get to the truth. If you think of anything that might be relevant, please give us a call." He slid a business card across your desk.

You picked it up, examining it briefly before setting it aside.

"Of course," you said, your tone polite but cool. "Is there anything else?"

The agents exchanged a glance. "Not at the moment," Vancouver said, rising to his feet. "Thank you for your time, Mrs. Haitani."

As they turned to leave, you called after them.

"Agents?" They paused, looking back. You fixed them with a steady gaze. "My husband is a good man. I hope you'll keep that in mind during your investigation."

After they left, you sank back in your chair, exhaling slowly.

Your hands trembled slightly as you reached for your phone, desperate to call Ran. But you stopped yourself, knowing it wasn't safe. If they were watching him, they might be monitoring your calls too.

Instead, you busied yourself tidying your desk, mind racing. What had Ran gotten himself into this time? And why hadn't he warned you sooner?

As you sorted through papers, your eyes fell on the box of wedding invitations. A lump formed in your throat. Would there even be a wedding now?

The rest of the day passed in a blur. You went through the motions, seeing patients and handling paperwork, but your thoughts were elsewhere. By the time you locked up the office, your nerves were frayed.

The drive home was tense, your eyes constantly darting to the rearview mirror, half-expecting to see a tail. But no one followed you to the quiet suburban street.

As your driver pulled into the daycare parking lot, the late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the asphalt. The cheerful chatter of children and parents filtered through your car window, a stark contrast to the turmoil churning inside you. You plastered on a smile as you walked through the colorful hallways, decorated with finger paintings and construction paper crafts.

Kai's face lit up when she saw you, her chubby hands reaching out as she toddled over. "Mama!" she squealed, her dark curls bouncing. You scooped her up, inhaling her sweet baby scent, and for a moment the world felt right again.

"Hey, baby girl," you murmured, kissing her cheek. "Ready to go home?"

The drive home was filled with Kai's animated babbling from the backseat. You nodded and responded at the appropriate moments, but your mind was elsewhere. As you pulled into the driveway, you scanned the quiet street, half-expecting to see unmarked police cars. But everything seemed normal.

Inside, you went through the motions of your evening routine - dinner, bath time, bedtime stories. Kai seemed to sense your distraction, clinging to you more than usual. As you tucked her into her little bed, she looked up at you with Ran's eyes.

"Where Dada?" she asked sleepily.

Your throat tightened. "Daddy had to work late, sweetheart. He'll be home soon." You prayed it wasn't a lie.

As Kai peacefully slept, you found yourself unable to relax in the stillness of the house. Every little noise sent shivers down your spine and made you question who or what could be lurking in the shadows. You poured yourself a glass of wine, but even that couldn't calm your nerves as you anxiously took in the ticking of the clock on the mantle. Just when you thought you were safe, the sound of the doorbell shattered the silence. Panic set in as you debated whether to answer it or hide away from potential danger. Who could possibly be at the door? How did they manage to get past all of the security measures? Your mind raced with conflicting thoughts and fears as you cautiously approached the door.

With trembling fingers, you approached the door, heart pounding in your chest. Through the peephole, you caught a glimpse of a familiar silhouette - tall, lean, with shoulder-length hair. Relief washed over you as you recognized Rin, Ran's younger brother.

You quickly undid the locks and pulled open the door. Rin stood there, impeccably dressed as always in a tailored three-piece suit, his gold-framed glasses glinting in the porch light. The Bonten tattoo on his throat seemed to pulse in the shadows.

"Rin," you breathed, ushering him inside. "What's going on? Is Ran okay?"

Rin's stoic expression betrayed nothing as he stepped into the foyer, his polished shoes clicking against the hardwood. The scent of expensive cologne and something darker - gunpowder, perhaps - wafted around him.

"He's fine," Rin said, his voice low and controlled. "Everything is under control."

You closed the door behind him, double-checking the locks. "Under control? Ran said he was turning himself in. The ATF was at my office today, asking questions. What the hell is going on?"

Rin's amethyst eyes swept the room, taking in every detail. "Is Kai asleep?"

You nodded, frustration building.

"Yes, she's been down for hours. Now will you please tell me what's happening?"

He moved further into the house, settling into an armchair in the living room. You perched on the edge of the sofa, hands clasped tightly in your lap.

"There was a... situation," Rin began carefully. "A shipment went missing. Someone talked. Ran is handling it."

You felt a chill run down your spine at Rin's words.

"Handling it how?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Rin's expression remained impassive, but you caught a flicker of something in his eyes - concern, perhaps?

"It's best you don't know the details," he said. "Plausible deniability."

You swallowed hard, fighting back a wave of nausea.

"And turning himself in? Was that part of... handling it?"

Rin nodded slowly. "A calculated move. It buys us time and throws off suspicion. He'll be out by morning, as he told you."

Your mind reeled, trying to process it all. The quiet life you'd built, the normalcy you'd craved - it was all hanging by a thread. And yet, a part of you had always known this day might come.

You sat in silence for a moment, processing Rin's words. The ticking of the clock on the mantle seemed deafening in the quiet room.

"How bad is it?" you finally asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Rin's eyes met yours, his gaze intense. "Bad enough that we need to be prepared for anything. Ran wanted me to come check on you and Kai, make sure you're safe."

A chill ran down your spine. "Are we in danger?"

"Not immediately," Rin replied, his tone measured. "But it's best to be cautious. I've stationed extra security around the perimeter. They're discreet - you won't see them, but they're there."

You nodded, a lump forming in your throat. "And Ran? When will I see him?"

"Soon," Rin assured you.

Rin's words offered little comfort as the reality of the situation sank in. You stood abruptly, pacing the living room as anxiety coursed through you.

"I can't believe this is happening," you muttered, running a hand through your hair. "We were supposed to be planning our wedding, not... not dealing with missing shipments and federal agents."

Rin watched you silently, his expression unreadable. After a moment, he spoke, his voice low and measured. "Y/N, you've always known who Ran is. Who we are. This life... it comes with risks."

You whirled to face him, anger flashing in your eyes. "I know that," you hissed. "But I thought... I thought things were different now. We have Kai to think about."

A flicker of emotion - regret, perhaps? - crossed Rin's face.

Rin stood, crossing the room to place a hand on your shoulder. His touch was surprisingly gentle.

"Ran is doing this for Kai," he said softly. "For all of you. He wants to secure a future where you can live without looking over your shoulders."

You let out a shaky breath, fighting back tears. "By putting himself in danger? How does that help us?"

"It's complicated," Rin replied, dropping his hand. "But Ran has a plan. He always does."

You nodded, knowing it was true. Ran was always three steps ahead, always maneuvering behind the scenes. It was part of what made him so successful - and so dangerous.

"What do I do now?" you asked, feeling suddenly lost.

Rin's expression softened slightly.

"You do what you've always done. You take care of Kai. You go to work.”

You nodded, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. Rin was right - you had to keep up appearances, for Kai's sake if nothing else.

"Alright," you said, squaring your shoulders. "I'll carry on as normal. But I want updates, Rin. No more being kept in the dark."

A ghost of a smile flickered across Rin's face. "You're tougher than Ran gives you credit for," he murmured.

You raised an eyebrow. "He should know better by now."

Rin nodded, his expression turning serious once more. "I'll keep you informed as much as I can. But Y/N... be careful. Watch what you say, who you talk to. Trust no one outside the family right now."

The gravity of his words sank in, and you felt a chill run down your spine.

#the hills #continuation #ran haitani x fem reader #i thought i ended it #but now its back #the drama never stops #i love ran sm #wife reader #bonten

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alex51324 · 8 months ago

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Another good one from Vox about the upcoming Trump Tariffs, and what they might mean for your near-future spending.

The first thing to understand is that tariffs absolutely do not do what Trump thinks they do. Trump has pitched tariffs as a way to lower prices, which is simply...wrong. He also seems to be under the impression that tariffs are a way to make foreign companies pay taxes to the United States. That is also wrong.

A tariff is a tax on imported goods. The usual reason for imposing a tariff is to protect domestic production from being undercut by cheaper imported goods--if Domestic Company A can produce widgets for $10 a dozen, but Foreign Company B can do it for $8 a dozen, you impose a 20% widget tariff, and Company A and Company B's widgets both end up on the domestic market at the same price. That way, Company A has no particular reason to move their widget factory to another country where it might be cheaper to operate, thus keeping jobs, wages, and prices at the current level.

Economists debate whether tariffs are actually a good way to achieve these goals; however, even if we assume it does, you can probably see a few problems. First, and most obviously, lowering prices is nowhere in the definition of what people who really like tariffs say that they do. On the contrary, they are intended to prevent prices from dropping due to cheaper imports, and they do that because the tariff is paid not by the foreign manufacturer, but by the domestic distributor, who typically passes that cost directly to the consumer.

Second, if we were going to use tariffs to support American manufacturing, it would have been a good idea to do that back when there was some American manufacturing left to protect. Like around the time Trump was in kindergarten, would have been a great time to start. Even 1980 might not have been too late.

If--and this is a big if--heavy tariffs on imported goods are maintained for a long time, it could happen that tariffs eventually slowly start to bring manufacturing, and manufacturing jobs, back to the US. It could happen.

But if it did, it would take a lot longer than four years. And what happens in the meantime, is that prices on everything we import will skyrocket. And what we import includes most of our clothing, electronics, household items, large appliances, small appliances, cars, children's toys--just about anything you can name. And a fair bit of our food. (We also export a lot of food, so unless climate change wallops us real hard in the next few years, we don't have to worry a whole lot about actual food shortages, but it will not be surprising if we see higher prices and less selection as a result of tariffs, let alone other policies that Trump has discussed.) While Trump has been (of course) light on policy specifics, some numbers he's floated are 10-20% tariffs on imported goods in general, rising to 60% on Chinese goods, and 100% on imports from Mexico.

Some sources are suggesting that, since tariffs are such a completely boneheaded idea that will not do any of the things Trump claims to believe* they will do, surely someone will manage to explain this in a way that he can understand, before he actually imposes them. The author of the Vox article above thinks that's unlikely, and that having made such a big deal about tariffs on the campaign trail, Trump will charge ahead with them anyway. I don't know.

However, the point is, if you're thinking about a major purchase, you might want to do that before January 20. Especially if it's something where the manufacturing is concentrated in China, like laptops, phones, that kind of thing. According to the article, the Consumer Technology Association is saying prices in that category could go up as much as 40%, if Trump follows through on what he's floated.

And he might not! We simply do not know. However, my laptop has started doing that thing where you have to wiggle the charging cable to get it to connect; in the before-times, I'd figure I have a few months before I really have to worry about it, but as things are, I'm keeping an eye on the Black Friday sales.

(*There's some speculation that what Trump actually wants to do is weaken China's economy, which happens to be something that Putin would like to see. Another possibility is that he has some idea about reducing America's reliance on/relationships with other countries, as a way of furthering some goal of his. Or maybe he just wants to start selling Trump-branded phones, IDK.)

#defendant-elect trump #us politics #us economy

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cambtech · 1 month ago

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Online Port & Terminal Management Course | Cambtech

Master port & terminal operations with Cambtech. Learn cargo handling, shipping, logistics, documentation & get certified in maritime logistics online.

Cambtech’s Foundation in Port and Terminal Management course is your gateway to a thriving career in maritime logistics. Learn essential skills in port operations, cargo handling, freight forwarding, container terminal management, and import-export documentation. This online program also covers stevedoring and supply chain integration, making it ideal for aspiring professionals in shipping and logistics. Join Cambtech’s expert-led training and earn your certification from anywhere.

#Best Port Management Course Online #Learn Port and Terminal Operations #Cargo Handling and Logistics Training #Shipping and Freight Forwarding Course #Stevedoring and Container Terminal Management #Maritime Logistics Certification Online #Port Operations and Supply Chain Management #Import & Export Documentation Course.

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redlenai · 4 months ago

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[Blender to MMD] A MW idiot's journey

Hi everyone! I'm sharing part of my journey to turn the Mouthwashing characters into MMD models (Of course! Others have done this already, but I'm doing it from scratch 'cause I later want to import my bastard son too (I've commissioned his model from PinterHex_Studio) and well, a girl's gotta know her way around stuff.

So first of all! I first got the Mouthwashing characters from Aarontaro's Sketchfab page. He is behind several of the amazing versions that you've probably seen around in VRChat videos!

Then I went outta my way and got Blender (But I don't like animating there so I of course I wanted to go to MMD to feel like my cringy self from when I was 12), I got the version 2.77 for Windows64. Then I got the MMD Tools by sugiany (I apologize if I got the credits wrong). After fighting for a while trying to install it since I was doing this late at night, I began to test out the whole import, export, convertion thing.

In Blender everything worked just fine, I imported him, added him his textures and all (Tho I realized waaaaay later that I wasn't putting him the Textures but putting him Material) so when I first managed to import his model in PMX Editor (Ver. 0.2.2.2) he looked like this, he didn't even look like the typical white glitch in PMX Editor

""Ok, finally managed to export his fbx ass to pmx but Jimmy, I get I draw you dark skinned but this is ridiculous why are your textures not showing?!"" (Mf really embraced being a dead pixel)

(Black?! My son is black!? joke because I had to laugh it off instead of getting mad)

So, I went back to Blender where I found out the thing about Material =/= texture. (Yeah of course, someone who knows about this would probably have figured that out faster, but I'm not, I'm just a common girl doing girly things).

Once solved the texture problem, now he looks fine in PMX Editor but badly in MMD. Need to figure out how to solve the Vertex issue.

The solution was particulary simple, it was just going to Edit in PMX Editor then click on "Vertex Morph Normalize" option.

See, Jimmy? Unlike you, I'm slowly fixing it. Now we have to make sure your Bones aren't as fucked up (I mean I can still pose him and animate him if I feel like it, but I want it to be more comfortable) which I'll do later since I have work to do

Mf thinks he can make my life miserable. I love how pissed off he looks, he can't get away with shit lmao

Anyway! I hope you had as much fun as I did while revisiting this whole fiasco, I swear it looks simple in this post, but I've been literally doing this for several hours and got mad in the middle of the night too, the things I do because I want to do silly animations and cringe shit besides some rancid argentinian tiktoks with these characters lmao.

#Mouthwashing #MW #Long yap #MMD #MikuMikuDance #Blender #PMX Editor #Jimmy Mouthwashing #Just a girl narrating her adventures

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thelouspicystash · 3 months ago

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Boy Dragons Can Get Pregnant, Too (Commission)

Another day, another Raya and the Last Dragon commission for my friendo @katealpha. Once again, this takes inspiration from Kate's own fan-written sequel to the film, though in relation to the last comm, these take place around the same time. And it's mpreg this time! Not my usual forte, but hey I'll write it if you want it. So long as big n round, I do not mind heh.

Commissions do be open.

Word count: 1567

This story contains: Pregnancy, male pregnancy, implied stuffing