#shortage of components

[semimediapress]

Phison: NAND Flash will be in short supply next year

November 10, 2023 /SemiMedia/ — Pua Khein-Seng, CEO of NAND Flash control chip manufacturer Phison, said in a recent interview that as major memory chip manufacturers have successively reduced production and the end market has recovered, the NAND Flash market has begun to return to prosperity and prices have risen. Pua Khein-Seng said that the company’s shipments have increased recently, while…

[ddarker-dreams]

As Above, So Below.

Yan Anaxagoras x Reader

Warnings: Yandere themes, unhealthy relationships, power imbalances, some co-dependency and emotional manipulation. Word count: 2.2k.

Anaxagoras is a polarizing figure. 

It’s to be expected, considering his lack of propriety. He cares little for respecting age-old traditions, observing social customs, or sugar coating his words. This has earned him no shortage of detractors. While they might label him a heretic or lob other accusations, even his most ardent opponents can’t deny that he’s brilliant. 

You’re no stranger to his eccentricity. His teaching style fluctuated between the routine and the sublime, you never knew what to expect. Nonetheless, you’ve always felt he takes his students’ edification seriously, hence his extreme tactics. Upon reflection, you concluded that this distinct pedagogy molded your mind into its current shape. Curiosity, drive, and a will to question the supposedly infallible have become your core tenets, courtesy of your professor. 

Who would’ve thought the very skepticism he instilled in you would one day be directed towards him? 

Ever since your most damning accusation left your lips, silence has reigned in his office. You projected a semblance of confidence for most of your exchange, but that façade has long since dissipated. You’re fidgeting, nervous energy building inside like a dam ready to burst. You regret doing this in his office, but the conversation necessitated privacy. The room has always left a strange impression on you. One glance at the notes strewn about his desk confirms the immeasurable gap in your intellect, how he’s discovering answers to questions you’d never think to ask. It’s both awe-inspiring and demoralizing. 

You can feel how he’s observing you, mentally breaking you down to your base components. There are only so many ways one can respond to the charges you’ve presented. Denial is by far the likeliest, followed up by indignation or disbelief. You’d run through this scenario hundreds of times in your head. Each time, he’d said something by now, constructing a meticulous defense. This silence denies you the catharsis rage would allow. Instead, you’re made to sit in a limbo of your own creation, replaying each element of this confrontation. 

Was your evidence lacking? Did your emotions seep through too much, discrediting your logic? Or are you not right in the head, having imagined everything in some paranoia-fuelled haze? 

Gathering your courage, you look up, steeling yourself for whatever stares back.

Anaxa’s composure is striking. He’s smiling, a sentiment akin to fondness softening the lines around his eye. If that wasn’t disconcerting enough, he chuckles, quietly at first, but ending in a hearty diapason. You drop all pretense and openly gawk at him. This goes beyond a few character quirks, this is madness. Righteous fury sends your blood boiling. You stand up, ready to storm out, when he raises his hand, a motion that keeps you in place. 

“Please, sit,” he supplicates. No vestige of his former derangement remains; regardless, it isn’t so easily erased from your memory. Sensing your apprehension, he continues, “Haven’t I taught you to always finish what you’ve started?” 

You part your lips, ready to insist that this is different, but the argument dies on your tongue. He has a way of making you doubt yourself without doing anything. Even now, you’re plagued by an impulse not to disappoint him. Feeling defeated, you return to your seat.

He leans back, crosses his legs, and rests his folded hands on his knee. “How long have you held these suspicions?” 

“I don’t know.” 

“Untrue. Try again.” 

“... Since the Month of Gate.” 

“That long, hm?” Anaxa muses. He leans closer, his gracile form hunched forward, like when he’s on the precipice of a great revelation. “We’re in the Six Month now; why wait as long as you did?” 

“Because I couldn’t believe it!” 

He clicks his tongue. “Willful ignorance, then? That’s unbecoming of you.” 

Your heart plummets at his reprimand. Memories of your first few one-on-one oral tests come flooding back, pelting your psyche. He accepted nothing less than your absolute best. You used to think he purposefully set you up for failure, demanding the impossible, but the results proved otherwise. He saw potential in areas you were too frightened to spare a glance. He encouraged — no, demanded — that you face them head-on. Consequently, you discovered yourself capable of feats previously unthinkable. 

That habit of his must extend beyond the lectern. 

“You come to me presenting vague, disconnected data, without the resolve to say what it is I stand accused of.” 

Something in you snaps. “How about falsifying my grades, coercion, bribery, and stalking, to name a few?” 

“An excellent start!” he asserts, slightly breathless from exhilaration. “Finally, we’re getting to the heart of the matter. Your reasoning is solid, if lacking in scope. Expand on your argument.” 

“This— this isn’t a learning exercise. If you don’t take me seriously, I’ll…” 

You trail off, fully aware you lack the means to substantiate a threat. Scowling, you internally berate yourself. He’s successfully stirred up your temper. Who could blame you, though? His disregard is baffling! You know him to be insensitive, sure, but never purposefully cruel. A lump forms in the back of your throat. You fight it with all your might, not wanting to add to your humiliation. He hadn’t made you cry in ages. The last time would’ve been his scathing critique of your first assignment, many years ago. You swore never to endure that again. 

“Don’t look at me like that, my dear,” Anaxa sighs. “I am taking you seriously. Forgive my excitement; I’ve been awaiting this conversation. Now, I know you’re thinking, ‘he’s lost it,’ or something to that effect. Let me reassure you — I’m perfectly sane. How else could I have accomplished what you’ve accused me of?” 

You eye him warily. “So you’re admitting to it?” 

“Not everything. I never tampered with your grades.” 

He’s focusing on the least egregious charge? Wouldn’t anyone else refute stalking or coercion first? You almost left out the dubious grades, it paled so greatly compared to the other accusations. 

“You never told me I failed after an oral test.” 

“I never said you passed, either.” 

“But you looked pleased!”

“Does that translate to a high grade?” 

“It’s disingenuous!” 

“Disingenuous, yes, but falsification? Hardly.” 

“Why is that what you’re caught up on?” you demand, your voice rising in pitch. “The point is, you’re keeping me from graduating. That’s the issue here.” 

“Is it not up to the professor whether their student should graduate or not?” 

Anaxa’s acting facetious to get under your skin and it’s working. You take a moment to gather your thoughts, recalling his lessons about the advantages of preying on your opponent’s emotions in a debate. Is that what this is? Had that been the case, you’d expect a more subtle approach. All this ambiguity is doing you a disservice. He claimed you ‘lacked scope,’ so you opt for a shift in tactics. 

“Why don’t you want me to graduate?” 

“An improvement over your earlier questions,” he notes, nodding in approval. “Still, you should know I dislike giving answers you’ve arrived at yourself.” 

“I haven’t—” 

He interrupts you by speaking your name, his tone low and chill-inducing. Shudders travel along your body. His disappointment reaches into your chest cavity and steals your oxygen. It shouldn’t sting, but it does. This ever-present desire to make him proud has twisted your priorities. Despite yourself, his earlier praise, meager as it was, sent your heart soaring. The acknowledgment of a genius is titillating. 

… Maybe you’re not right in the head either. 

“You’re attracted to me.” 

“A shallow description, albeit accurate.” 

“You don’t want me to leave The Grove.” 

“And why is that?” 

“Some warped sense of attachment, if I had to guess.” 

“Hmph. I wouldn’t call it warped,” Anaxa replies. “The ethics, perhaps, but my intentions aren’t so nefarious. Your talent would be wasted in Okhema. Should you stay, I’d have you as my assistant, a position you’d find challenging and rewarding. Is that not a tempting offer?” 

Your mouth goes dry. 

Tempting? Life-altering would be a better description. The role of assistant to a Sage is enviable for its benefits, monetarily, but more vital, academically. Other scholars are more willing to collaborate, you have access to any materials you research necessitates, and you’re welcomed into previously inaccessible circles. It’s a chance your younger self would’ve killed for. 

However… 

“My intention has always been to return home and apply what I’ve learned. Okhema’s one of the last standing city-states, I want to contribute what I can.”

Anaxa pinches the bridge of his nose. “You’re still clinging to those fantasies? Leave that city to the Goldweaver. She has her shortcomings, but when it comes to ruling, she maintains order.” 

“We can’t rely solely on Aglaea. Common people should do their part,” you insist. “I want to see my home prosper, not limp from crisis to crisis.” 

“Such are the times we live in.” 

“So I should just give up, then?” 

“If you have any sense.” 

“Whatever happened to ‘finish what you start?’” 

“We aren’t finished yet,” Anaxa responds, unusually harsh. “Focus on that. Everything else is secondary, a distraction.” 

Your eye twitches. 

“What about what I want?” 

“You want to stay. It’s a misguided civil duty fooling you into believing otherwise.” 

Anaxa’s speaking like he’s objectively correct, as if any claims to the contrary are insipient, a waste of his time. It’s equal parts fascinating and infuriating. You’re reminded of the countless hours spent in this room, passionately defending your rationale against his methodical deconstructions. Except now, it isn’t a theory or method you’re debating, it’s your future. Ultimately, no one aside from you has the final say. His claim that you’re deluded by sentimentality is projection. He’s acting absurd here, not you. 

“I’ve always had great respect for you, professor,” you admit, ignoring a terrible ache in your chest. “You’ve never been afraid to question the status quo, even if it meant challenging the gods. That’s why… that’s why I struggled to believe you’d sabotage me. Call it ‘willful ignorance,’ or whatever, but was it so wrong of me to have faith in my mentor?” 

Anaxa’s eyelashes flutter shut and he smiles. “An appeal to pathos, is it?” 

“It’s called being human, Anaxa.” 

That gets under his skin. His eye is hooded when it reopens, belying irritation. 

“Anaxagoras,” he dryly corrects. 

“Your priorities are a mess.” 

“Insolence should never be tolerated,” he asserts. “I commend your rhetoric. Need I remind you, however, that I’m not to blame for the image you’ve formed of me?” 

You exhale sharply through your nose. So that’s the angle he’s deciding to take? He’s willing to desecrate a shrine you dedicated to him, built with precious memories and experiences?

While studying his physiognomy, you note how stoic he’s become. He’s toned down his usual theatrics. There’s a solemn nature to his gaze, his eyebrow slightly upturned and jaw set firmly. Through his outerwear, you can make out the alchemical symbols inked into his arm. When it comes to pursuing his ambitions, he’s like a man possessed. Nothing is too sacred, not even his own flesh. 

What chance do you have against such determination? 

“You must be lonely, professor.” 

He runs a hand through his hair. “Resorting to insults now, are we?”

“It’s just an observation,” you say. Then, a prolonged pause. “One that you aren’t denying.” 

Anaxa reclines in his seat and clears his throat. “Your company… isn’t unwelcome.” 

It could be your imagination, but you swear there’s a light dusting of pink over his cheeks. He fiddles with the cuffs of his outer garment. Out of all the dubious comments he’s made, that’s what made him self-conscious? The absurdity takes you a few moments to recover from. Anaxa leverages the opportunity, bringing your hands into his. You try pulling away out of instinct, only for him to exert surprising strength. 

Effectively trapped, you cease your futile struggle. 

“Stay,” his voice is so soft, it almost fails to reach your ears. “I’m not above begging, if that’s what it requires.” 

He lowers his head, seeking to propitiate you, as if golden ichor didn’t flow through his veins, denoting his supernal status. He who scorns the divine has taken on the posture of an acolyte. An act befitting a lifelong blasphemer, you suppose. 

Anaxa speaks your full name, each syllable rolling off his tongue like honey. 

“Should you leave, I’ll hasten the eschaton of this world by aiding the black tide.” 

“... And you claim you haven’t ‘lost it?’” 

“Not yet,” he murmurs against your inner wrist. “You’re still here.” 

“What you said could warrant execution.” 

“I prefer to die having had you for myself than to live apart.” 

“You’re mad.” 

“As the progenitor, can a malady fault its symptoms for existing?” 

“Casuistry at its finest.” 

Anaxa finally relinquishes his hold, but not without kissing your racing pulse. 

“Be critical of me all your days, I’ll delight in the offense.” 

You bring your hands to your chest, the skin he lavished in affection tingling. Your head is spinning, like he shifted the world on its axis. His eye scalds you, his magenta pupil burning hot with unrestrained fervor. There's no room for compromise. He will see his designs made manifest or immolate this dying world to punish your rejection.

"What will it be?" he asks.

You close your eyes, unable to withstand his smoldering gaze any longer.

"... My place is by your side, professor."

[sameergaza]

Samir told me this and I am telling you about it.

"Our voices don't reach… but your hearts can be heard!"

We are from Gaza, where daily suffering is written in ink of blood and shattered hope, under difficult and harsh conditions that only those who have experienced them can understand. In Gaza today, people are suffering from a severe shortage of food and water, and life is made difficult by the absence of even the most basic necessities.

Flour : one of the most important components of daily life, has become extremely scarce, threatening the lives of many, especially in light of the scarcity of available bread.

Cooking gas, which everyone relies on to prepare their meals, has become almost non-existent, forcing families to use alternative methods that may be dangerous, or even cancel some meals.

Life in Gaza is no longer just a daily struggle for survival; it has become a recurring struggle amid dire humanitarian conditions. Many families have been forced to flee their homes due to the ongoing bombardment, finding themselves in overcrowded shelters, with increasing needs for shelter, food, and water.

Hospitals are overflowing with the wounded, many of whom are not receiving adequate treatment. Homes have been destroyed, and thousands of families are forced to live in darkness or under the threat of attack.

Today, we appeal to you to be a source of hope for those still resisting in Gaza. We need your support more than ever. Donations can provide food, medicine, and cooking gas, as well as help rebuild what has been destroyed and provide safe shelter for the displaced.

Don't let our hearts remain alone. Let us be part of the solution together and lend a helping hand to those most in need.

Gaza needs you. Let us be hope. Gaza is steadfast. Gaza is under bombardment.

Verified by : gaza-evacuation-funds

Verified by : bilal-salah0

[inky-duchess]

Fantasy Guide to the Fashion of 1940s

The 1940s was a time for great change in the world and in fashion. Marked by rationing and shortage of fabrics, the silhouette and availability of different cuts was limited so the women of the era turned to more fitted, shorter cuts.

Undergarments

The undergarments of the era were not as restrictive or complicated in WW2 as they were pre-WW1, but there were a lot of moving parts to the set-up.

Bra/Brassiere: Bras got shorter in the 1940s due to the rationing of fabric. They look much like they do today, made of light coloured fabrics and hooked with metal eyelets.

Panties/Knickers: The underwear. Elasticated underwear was around and actually exempt from rationing.

Girdle: The girdle rests on the lower torso, past the hips and were used for shaping as well as support.

Garters: Were worn at the top of the stocking just above the knee to hold the stocking in place.

Garter Belt: Was a belt worn around the waist and used to hold up the stockings and garters thanks to fastenings.

Slip: A slip is a light loose dress that is worn under another dress. It is long or short depending on the size of the dress you're wearing over it. The slip has slim straps and was usually plain though lace and embroidery were no uncommon. Most younger women favoured the half slip which was like another skirt.

Stockings: Stockings were worn over the lower legs, clipped and held in place by the garters. If your lady is lucky enough to have a friend on the black market, she might be lucky enough to have proper nylon tights. But if not, some ladies in this period dyed their legs with tea bags and drew the seam up the back of their legs to give the effect.

Outfits

Most women still wore skirts and dresses in the 1940s though some women switched to pants. Most of the outfits of the time followed a similar silhouette due to rationing: it was simple, unsophosticated, fitted, belted and hems remained just below the knee. A suit jacket and skirt combo was popular. Blouses and jumpers were also worn. Dresses were worn as well. Women would pair their outfit with accessories. They would always wear a hat outside and gloves.

Shoes

Shoes were effected by the war, with leather and rubber being limited. Most were brown, black or two two-tone shoes were popular. Oxford shoes, saddle shoes, loafers, court shoes, slingback were popular. These could be lace ups or have fastenings. Heels were usual, but rather short and stocky if worn in the day time. Most would be plain but some would have embellishments.

The Reality of the 1940s

With war on and rationing well underway, the question of clothes was always on the mind. Most women did not have a large wardrobe and with clothing coupons little help, most women made and made due. Hems would be let down, larger sizes cut down and a lot of clothing reused. Fabric choice was limited, silk and nylon were used for parachutes and military applications. Clothing rations were the only way to get new clothes in the war. The average person was entitled at first to 66 clothing coupons per year. But that only would buy an outfit of clothes not including the necessaries. And the number of ration coupons went down as the war went on, down to 36 coupons in 1945. It was illegal to transfer coupons but even despite this, in 1947 hundreds of women offered the future Queen Elizabeth II their rations for her wedding dress. The offer was declined but the government had to approve the release of extra coupons to the Princess. Women also turned to alternatives to create clothes especially wedding gowns even made them out of parachutes!

Make up and Hair

Make up and perfume was one of the many things that was rationed due to their chemical components such as glycerine. Women could access make up but due to rationing and many make up companies not having the ingredients or changing to more profitable and patriotic output, supplies were low. Women often turned to DIY, burnt cork for mascara and eyeliner, natural stains such as beetroot or cochineal for lipstick, crushed rose petals for blush, soot/charcoal for eyeliner, facemasks of egg white or oatmeal, beeswax for moisturiser and cold cream. As for hair women often turned to DIY to care and wash for their hair. Homemade shampoos were made from soap, vinegar and baking soda. Egg yolks were used for conditioner. Lemon juice was used to lighten hair. Olive oil was used to make hair shiny. Some popular hairstyles of the era:

Victory Rolls: This is the hairstyle you're probably thinking ofwhen you think of the 40s. It involves rolling the hair away from the face and rolling them at the top of the head.

Pin Curls: This is a hairstyle involving the curling and pinning of hair overnight got tight curls for the next day.

Pageboy: This is a shoulder-length style, curled at the ends

Waves: This style involves soft waves

Pompadours: The hairstyle involves the sweeping up of hair back from the face and sculpting it to be more voluminous.

Snoods: This is a sort of net worn over the hair, usually with a rat (a sort of device used to increase volume at the front of the hair)

Scarves: Were popular replacement for hats, used to cover their hair when going out.

[thesimline]

Before I get started on today's post I have to give a HUGE shout out to @eggysimblr and his invaluable help when it came to research for the men's 1700s lookbooks. My strong suit is women's fashion history and in all honesty, I usually dread putting together the men's historical lookbooks as either the outfits are pretty repetitive or there is hardly any CC out there, or sometimes both. Thanks to all the amazing creators there was no shortage of men's CC this time and I had Eggy's wisdom to mine from. I suggest you check out his blog for some great historical content and CC.

Now, onto the lookbook...

The main stay of men's fashion throughout the 18th century was the en suite - an ensemble made from the matching separates of justaucorps (AKA coat), waistcoat and breeches. These three components varied in cut and fit over the course of 100 years. For the first part of the century justaucorps reached to just below the knee, with a wide flare at the sides. Cuffs were wide and heavily decorated. Waistcoats were similarly long, however they stopped above the knee. Although matching suits conveyed an air of propriety, outside of court and other formal occasions men often wore contrasting waistcoats. CC links under the cut.

You can find more of my historical content here:

1300s ✺ 1400s ✺ 1500s ✺ 1600s ✺ 1700s ✺ 1800s

FRENCH KING

Hat | Hair | Suit | Suit Trim | Baldric & Sword | Gloves | Hose | Shoes

CARDINAL

Zucchetto | Hair (TSR) | Cape | Robe | Sleeve Trim | Shoes (Get Famous)

GOVERNOR

Hair (TSR) | Outfit

ARISTOCRAT

Hat | Hair | Suit | Sash | Gloves (Get to Work) | Cane | Hose | Shoes

MERCHANT

Hair | Suit | Cane | Hose | Shoes (Base Game)

BUCCANEER

Hat | Hair | Scarf | Suit (TSR) | Gloves | Pistol | Hose | Shoes

ENGLISH SOLDIER

Hair | Suit | Suit Trim | Baldric & Sword | Hose | Boots (Vampires)

DOCKWORKER

Hat | Hair | Face Dirt (Get Famous) | Scarf (Base Game) | Outfit | Gloves | Socks (Base Game) | Shoes

With thanks to some amazing creators: @natalia-auditore @stereo-91 @feralpoodles @regina-raven @simstrouble @lucky-content @nickname-sims4 @serenity-cc @shespeakssimlish @plazasims @the-melancholy-maiden @sloedancing @leeleesims1 @historicalsimslife @joshseoh @dogsill @anachrosims @chere-indolente @peebsplays

[drst]

Stock up time, Americans

OK this is not fear mongering, folks, this is for real. If you live in the US, you need to start stocking up on supplies right now, especially anything that is imported from China.

There is a major drop in freight shipping from China happening right now (late April 2025). Even if someone with two brain cells got into a room with Trump today and convinced him to back down on the tariffs against China, it's too late. There are going to be shortages and empty shelves. It's a question of how long they will last now.

It will take a few more weeks to be felt across the US, but as cargo ceases to arrive on the west coast, you have around 3-4 weeks for the effects to fully reach the east coast depending on the items. People are already reporting price hikes just on orders from China due to the tariffs, but this is going to be a void where things we normally expect to be able to buy will no longer be available.

There could also be major ripple effects from this as the trucking industry gets hit with either layoffs or firings. A lot of people could be thrown out of work, on top of the cuts to federal and government-adjacent jobs. This will push the instability in the economy even harder. And who knows what catastrophes could come up next.

So what can you do now, at the end of April 2025? All of this advice should be considered based on your financial situation. Don't put yourself in debt to do any of these things, but maybe look at your budget and your savings and see what you can afford to do right now.

Stock up on medications. As we know from 2020, a lot of components of our medicines are made in China. Buy extra supplies of anything over the counter you rely on. See if you can get bulk refills on prescriptions. I know it's tough with insurance companies but check with the pharmacy and see if you can fill early, or see what the out of pocket cost is for a refill and if you can afford it.

Personal care and hygiene products too - buy extra soap, shampoo, toothpaste, etc. Feminine care products (diapers if you've got little ones).

Electronics. Almost everything we use is made in China or relies on components made in China. If you've been thinking of getting a new phone or your laptop is failing, now is the time before the prices go even higher.

Same deal with cars, although that's a major expense to replace and interest rates on loans are high right now. We assemble cars here in the US but every car manufacturer makes parts overseas. Take your car to a mechanic ASAP, get it checked out, make sure it's in good working order. Replace anything that needs replacing.

Paper products like toilet paper are not imported from China. As I understand it, the shortages in 2020 were due to other factors, buuuuut, let's be real. People are going to see bare shelves and panic. They're going to start hoarding and since we all remember the TP shortages 5 years ago, it would be a good idea to stock up now so you're not fighting the panic buyers.

Tools - weirdly a large percentage of scissors sold in the US are imported from China. Make sure you have a basic set of household tools. This is a list of 15 basics for handling a house. There's also the ready.gov list of what you need for an emergency kit. Also a basic sewing kit is a very good idea to have available.

Food-wise, again, while direct imports from China may not make a huge impact, if people begin to panic, you want to be prepared to deal with other people hoarding. If you have space and your electric bill can handle it, this is a good time to pick up a chest freezer. You can get a small one for under $200. You can buy the value sized bags of frozen stuff you like to eat (particularly important if you have food issues or if you've got kids who love their chicken nuggets). Grab extras of shelf-stable things like cereal, pasta, rice, and canned goods. If this feels paranoid, you don't have to go crazy, but buy at least some extras.

Get cash from your bank just in case. This is good practice in any circumstances, but don't assume your cards or your Apple Pay are going to work in an emergency. Hit the ATM, squirrel at least $100 away at home. Try to get small bills if you can, it's easier to carry some with you and leave the rest at home.

Lastly think through things you use daily, check where they come from, resupply or replace anything coming from China ASAP. Some folks already did this at the end of last year (durable goods purchases were up over 10% above average in December because people were worried about the tariff shit back then), but if you can afford it, get replacements or new supplies right now.

I sincerely hope 6 months from now this looks like panic and overreaction, but a lot of people smarter than me are giving this advice. It feels very much like February of 2020 again, where people watching the news closely could see something really bad on the horizon, but the majority had no idea. Better to be prepared.

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Monica Potts at TNR (05.21.2025):

Rural hospitals are in crisis. “More than 700 rural hospitals—one-third of all rural hospitals in the country—are at risk of closing because of the serious financial problems they are experiencing,” according to an April report from the Center for Healthcare Quality and Payment Reform. “Over 300 of these rural hospitals are at immediate risk of closing because of the severity of their financial problems.” And this doesn’t even account for what might happen if Republicans in Congress pass a budget bill that would cut $625 billion from Medicaid to cover tax cuts to the rich. Those cuts not only threaten health care coverage for millions of vulnerable Americans but also would endangermany rural hospitals, which are more likely than urban hospitals to rely on government health care spending to stay in business. Severe cuts to Medicaid could force many struggling rural hospitals to close, further diminishing work opportunities in areas where good, steady jobs are already scarce. Rural hospitals are of course critical for patient care—often there’s only one serving a geographically broad swath of territory—but they’re also a major employer in their communities. They employ hundreds or even thousands of people, including nurses, administrative aids, filing clerks, nurses, nursing assistants, and doctors. If Medicaid cuts force rural hospitals to close, as experts suspect they could, rural America could face an unemployment crisis.

Nationwide, hospitals employ about 4 percent of the U.S. workforce, making them America’s sixth-largest employer. It’s harder to tease out exactly how much of the rural workforce they employ, but by some estimates the health care sector accounts for about 14 percent of employment in those areas; there are many rural counties where hospitals are the largest or second-largest employer. (The stereotype of the rural American farmer is a bit outdated, as most agricultural work disappeared decades ago. By 2016, the biggest employment sectors for rural counties were educational services, health care, and social assistance.)

More than a third of hospitals in the U.S. are classified as rural, and they’re more likely to be operating in the red than their urban counterparts. The reasons are tied to the fortunes of rural communities more generally. The hospitals serve smaller populations and so have fewer patients. On top of that, many rural counties are shrinking in population, and the people who remain tend to be older and poorer than the country as a whole. These smaller hospitals have less power than bigger chains when negotiating reimbursement rates with insurance companies, making the government’s health care programs a more important component of their funding. They’re also serving populations that are more likely to be in poor health, and at the same time facing shortages of primary care physicians. Those problems led 136 rural hospitals, or about 3 percent, to��close between 2010 and 2021. Almost three-fourths of those were in states that hadn’t expanded Medicaid through the Affordable Care Act, or had expanded it only within the previous year, hinting at how big a role the program plays in keeping those hospitals open. Not all rural hospitals are in crisis, though: Those in states that did expand Medicaid under the ACA are doing better. (However, the Center for Healthcare Quality and Payment Reform study found that 190 of the rural hospitals facing risk of immediate closure are in states that expanded Medicaid.) If the past is any indication, the magnitude of the proposed new cuts could severely impact states and the hospitals that rely on those programs.

The GOP’s Medicaid cuts could have disastrous impacts to rural hospitals (and jobs).

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Word List: Psychology

psychological concepts as reference for your poem/story (pt. 1)

Acute stress - Results from the sudden onset of demands or events that seem to be beyond the control of the individual. This type of stress is often experienced as tension headaches, emotional upsets, gastrointestinal disturbances, and feelings of agitation and pressure.

Barnum statements - Generalities or statements that could apply to anyone. A good example is the astrology column published in daily newspapers.

Core conditions - According to Carl Rogers, in client-centered therapy, 3 core conditions must be present in order for progress to occur: (a) an atmosphere of genuine acceptance on the part of the therapist; (b) the therapist must express unconditional positive regard for the client; and (c) the client must feel that the therapist understands him or her (empathic understanding).

Daily hassles - The major sources of stress in most people’s lives. Although minor, daily hassles can be chronic and repetitive, such as having too much to do all the time, having to fight the crowds while shopping, or having to worry over money. Such daily hassles can be chronically irritating though they do not initiate the same general adaptation syndrome evoked by some major life events.

Eye-blink startle method - People typically blink their eyes when they are startled by a loud noise. Moreover, a person who is in an anxious or fearful state will blink faster and harder when startled than a person in a normal emotional state. This means that eyeblink speed when startled may be an objective physiological measure of how anxious or fearful a person is feeling. The eye-blink startle method may allow researchers to measure how anxious persons are without actually having to ask them.

Frustration - The high-arousal unpleasant subjective feeling that comes when a person is blocked from attaining an important goal. For example, a thirsty person who just lost his last bit of money in a malfunctioning soda machine would most likely feel frustration.

Global self-esteem - By far the most frequently measured component of selfesteem; defined as “the level of global regard that one has for the self as a person” (Harter, 1993, p. 88). Global self-esteem can range from highly positive to highly negative, and reflects an overall evaluation of the self at the broadest level (Kling et al., 1999). Global self-esteem is linked with many aspects of functioning and is commonly thought to be central to mental health.

Hostile forces of nature - What Darwin called any event that impedes survival. This includes food shortages, diseases, parasites, predators, and extremes of weather.

Identity foreclosure - A person does not emerge from a crisis with a firm sense of commitment to values, relationships, or career but forms an identity without exploring alternatives. An example would be young people who accept the values of their parents or their cultural or religious group without question.

Inhibitory control - Ability to control inappropriate responses or behaviors.

Source ⚜ More: On Psychology ⚜ Word Lists ⚜ Notes & References

[iamthekaijuking]

Theory on Wyvern Milk and the Dragontorch

I’m just gonna cut to the chase, I think the dragontorch and the landspine is primarily an oil refinement and distribution system.

We know wyveria sits on a big oil deposit. One so big it literally bubbles up in the basin. So wyveria is in no shortage of oil.

Wylk itself is combustible, can solidify into clumpy masses, and it can be inferred that it’s an organic substance since it’s produced by an organism and absorbed by others.

Oil is famously combustible, we all know this. And it’s an organic substance since it’s formed from dead microbes (and because of this some studies have posited that oil might actually be renewable). Oil can also solidify, and we use this for various things such as road construction. Literal oil pucks are something that was invented not too long ago.

So I’m thinking wyvern milk is crude oil that the dragontorch pumps something into to give it the white coloration and elemental properties. Possibly bioenergy, which I personally theorize is a supersugar produced by microbes in the soil of volcanic environments that has components of dragon energy. We can infer Wyveria sits on top of volcanic caverns thanks again to the basin, so they’re probably not running out of bioenergy if the dragontorch can’t produce some itself.

[wheelsgoroundincircles]

1974 Pontiac Firebird Formula SD-455

1974 Pontiac Firebird Formula SD-455

1974 Formula SD-455 in Pinemist Green with a Saddle interior. The SD-455 was essentially a carryover from 1973. When the 1974 model year began, the SD-455 engine option was placed on hold pending new EPA certification along with the same problem that faced the 1973 SD-455; a shortage of SD-455 forged connecting rods. When 1974 SD-455 vehicle production finally began in November 1973, the engine plant struggled to produce just 8 engines per day. With all the publicity in the media surrounding the SD-455, the Pontiac Parts Department had 1,350 back orders for SD-455 forged connecting rods. On November 9th, 1973, Pontiac issued a bulletin to dealers that all orders for SD-455 connecting rods were cancelled. In order for a dealer to re-order, they were now required to supply a VIN to the Zone Office to make sure the order was for an actual SD-455 equipped car. Orders were limited to just 4 connecting rods, which Pontiac felt was sufficient to handle any warranty issues. By March 1974, the connecting rod problem had still not been resolved, and now Pontiac restricted any SD-455 specific component from being ordered without supplying the VIN of the vehicle, the exception were piston rings. The entire SD-455 saga reads like a soap opera. Cost cutting, upper management turnover, attempting to circumvent EPA emission tests, component shortages, delay after delay, it's amazing that the SD-455 actually made it into production at all. - MCN

[skleroznik]

I haven’t yet decided what to do with his color palette, but I figured I’d share this.

During the development of his body, a shortage of necessary resources became apparent—specifically, those required to create living organic flesh and some other components. Because of this, to simplify the process and avoid excessive costs, it was decided to give him mechanical legs.

Here’s how it works: He has two cables—one connecting to his main body, the other to his legs—which merge into a single line. For him to move his legs into a specific position or perform an action, a command sequence must be programmed. This command is sent from his head through the cables to his legs. This system doesn’t feel convenient to him, as he has to generate new commands every time, which can clutter his storage memory and slightly overload him during complex tasks.

Oh, and yes—he can detach his legs from his main body.

Due to these aforementioned inconveniences, he’s set a goal to build himself new legs for better functionality. Later, this idea evolved into a broader ambition: to break out of his own ‘box,’ walk the earth on his own two feet, and interact with the world directly.

His name is - Lovely Lunch (sometimes confused with Lonely Lunch) .

He doesn't like his name and prefers to be addressed as LL.

Initially, his name sounds like "Vkusnyy Obed", but I have chosen a suitable translation of the name that fits the meaning and sound.

Therefore, he can be said to have two names.:

VO - Vkusnyy Obed

LL - Lovely Lunch

I like to give funny names.

[semimediapress]

Samsung: DRAM and NAND chip supply in China will be in short supply next year

October 10, 2023 /SemiMedia/ — According to supply chain insiders, Samsung Electronics’ recent survey of the semiconductor demand of its major global customers shows that the adjustment of memory chip inventory by customers in various fields is nearing the end. Starting in 2024, there will be a supply shortage of DRAM and NAND Flash in some regions. The source said that Samsung launched a survey…

[yeosbbm]

Push It.

Smut | MDNI

starring: athletic! fem reader x gym rat! yeosang

genre: competitive rivals to lovers/ non-idol athletic au

summary/plot: $50,000 . that’s the prize money for the province weight and powerlifting competition. you’re not a weight lifter per say; but you’ve always been an athlete and you love winning as much as you love money. you’ve rarely ever had competition from anyone. that’s until you meet kang yeosang. finally, someone who’s as arrogant and talented you are. him being your rival and competition you guys have to push it to the limits. whether it’s publicly in the gym or privately at his place.

warnings/prevs: forced proximity, shower sex manhandling, power play, impact play, degradation , oral (fem receiving) , unprotected piv, breeding/cream pie, use of the word bitch (like once), yeosang is vv rude

A/N: Hey guys this fic came out later than it was meant to 😭. My neighborhood had a power shortage and I had to redo a lot of the story as well as me still feeling as though my writing isn’t cohesive. Which is why this may not match what was in the prev. I also came to a decision to make this a 2-3 part series depending on what you all would like, being unhappy with your own work is so hard but I still appreciate you all. Enjoy !

Tags:

@theyungihven @stolasisyourparent @parkseonghwatongueee @mulit05ho3st4n

Part 1:

Today was the province’s Weightlifting competition intramural, where they decide who gets to compete for the $50,000 cash prize granted to the winner who lifts the most and the best.

You’re not a common weightlifter but you’re athletically poised enough to try. Plus, your close roommates who already lift, San and Jongho have been helping you train for the longest. You know deep down that you have a chance at this money and could have so many opportunities. Get a better place for you, Sannie and Jongho, never having to work, buying whatever you want and more. Even if you don’t win the experience itself pumps you up. The only negative component is Yeosang. Kang Yeosang. He’s infamous for his skills, he isn’t the hugest lifter but his work has been impressive regardless. He started training the same time you had and has been your enemy ever since.

He just irks you. If he uses a machine before you he’ll never adjust the weight back to its original setting before you use it. He never shares his hand chalk, lotion or protein powder. The most annoying is that he’s always attempting to one up you. You two have been beefing practically as long as you two have laid eyes on each other. Insults hurled to one another no matter the circumstance. But today was the day you could humble him and put him in his place.

You and Yeosang are in the same qualifying group, meaning you two will be in competition for a spot in the actual competition. Every other possible competitor surrounds the platform. The judge sat there at a table adjacent to it, folded their hands and brought them above the table and stared upon the many competitors in front of them.

“Today, we are deciding on who will be participating in our competition for $50,000, only the best weight lifters can compete for such a generous prize. Here are our 4 nominees for this section.” The judge said this all robotically as if it were clock work, because it essentially was.

You walk onto your spot with the weight assigned in front of you. Looking across you see Yeosang, he was already eyeing you and ofc had that irritating smile on his face.

You two and two other men are lined up. Yeosang was to go and lift first, you last . Yeo rubbed his hands together in the weight chalk before reaching down and gripping the weight. As if it weighed nothing he deadlifted it up to his waist. Ooos and Ahhhs filled the crowd from his easy attempt at this weight. The hard part, was him bringing it above him. He struggles fighting the weights gravity with his strength. After moments of him steadying his breathing and shutting his eyes tight he brings the weight above. Cheers fill the room and the judge lifts their brow obviously impressed.

The two other men went now. While yes they did bring the weight up there was no grace, technique as well as they struggled and lost form.

Now it’s your turn. You take a breath and prepare your hands. You look down and stretch your back. You reach down and take one last breath before you grip the weight and snap up to bring it to your waist. The burn in your limbs was severe but you couldn’t let them see you struggle. You’re gritting your teeth now. You need this, you must have this. You see Yeosang watching. His lift was impressive but you know that you can up him, even if it’s only by 1%. You look at your competitor knowing that if you just upped your technique you can lift this with better form and efficiency. Jongho and San are rooting for you as well as others. You finally push it above your head.

Yeosang has a look on his face. It isn’t a look of disappointment or bitterness as usual. He seems…proud ?

Finally you, yeosang and the two other competitors are lined up ready to hear the results. The judge gazes at all four of you and reaches down to his score sheet. He sits up preparing to give out the names of who’s going forward.

“With consideration of all aspects such as physique, form, technique, elegance, strength and performance…”

You’re sweating bullets. The suspense is making you bounce your leg.

“Our winners are…Kang Yeosang at spot number #27.” People of his crew cheer and he had a look of being triumphant. Now this is it. The decision that will truly decide if you’ll have a chance of competing for this 50,000.

“And l/n y/n at spot number #26.” We thank you all for participating in our intramural..next qualifying group please.”

Not only did you pass, but you’re above Yeosang right where you wanted to be. Once you get off the platform your roommates hug you and of course rant and rave on how proud they are. Jongho and San say they have something do but will be right back to train as well as agreed to drinks when you’re through with solo training.

While alone you sit at a utility bench stretching as much as you could before your workout and then..

“Congratulations. I look forward to potentially beating you later.”

You get startled and jump from Yeosangs presence which makes him smile from joy. He’s stood in front of you with his phone in one hand and a protein shake in the other.

“Your drink smells…get it away im about to vomit.” You dramatically hold your nose and shake your head.

He brings the shake to your face causing you to swat and kick at him to shoo him away.

“You qualified now but wait till later, bet I’ll have you out of here by the first quarter.” After he says this he begins to sip from his shake.

“You’re saying this as if it’s guaranteed you’ll still be here after the first round.” You say tilting your head matching his energy.

He pauses from drinking and stares causing his eyes to be like daggers, “I’m running through this thing till the end.”

Interesting.

“Compared to me you’re nobody, my name holds weight here while nobody knows yours.”

You refuse to let him get the last word.

“When this is through, nobody will even remember who you are. You’re already forgettable enough.”

Yeosang scoffs and turns back on his way to his crew. You make sure to continue staring at him with disdain until he dissolves into a crowd and is out of your sight.

[Time skip]

After you stay behind for a couple more workouts that you could handle (as well as regret.) the gym is closing up and it’s time to head home, and you’re anxious to get home at this point. All your clothes whether they’re for at the gym, after or backups were dirtied from your protein powder spilling, and the clothes you have on now are all sweated in. Your arms and legs are worn out, and you haven’t ate real food since the whole intramural. You grab your gym bag and look around but within the sea of possible competitors there isn’t a sign of San or Jongho. Luckily as if they could read your mind from afar Jongho facetimed you.

“Do not tell me . You guys forgot to get me.”

Jongho shook his head and passed the phone to San who looks as guilty as possible. “Well there was a good reason y/n I swear !!”

“San whyy what happened.” You’re not mad per say but the lack of a heads up has you floored. If you knew they’d leave without you, you would’ve had the money on your card for a good safe Uber home. Plus it’s scary ride sharing at night.

“Wooyoung had an emergency with Joong so we had to rush over there and we saw you with Yeosang after the round so we thought you’d get lucky and he’d take you home.” He says it as quick as possible like a kid explaining their side of a fight with their sibling.

“We’re on the other side of town because Woos new place is by the pier .” Jongho said, clearly ready to go home while mindlessly steering the car.

“ Thanks Jongho. But San. Why…….. would I go anywhere with that man.”

San looked side to side before saying something that would grind your gears. “I mean you say you hate him but I think you secretly want him bad and it’s ok if you do-”

“San. Goodbye I’ll find a way home I’m sharing my location I’ll let you know when I get there.”

“Y/N IM SORRY WE LOVE YOU.” San yells through the phone trying to save himself while Jongho only waves goodbye and ends the call.

While trying to regain composure of the sudden change in plans. Low and behold, speak of the devil Kang Yeosang was stood there with the same blank expression he typically hits you with.

You’re startled by him and of course had to let him know. “God you can’t keep walking up on people like that dude.”

Yeosang is unphased by your complaint and places his bag on his shoulder. “Look are you getting a ride home from me or not .”

“Woah eavesdropper much…but, if you don’t mind sure..there’s a problem though you have to wait for me to shower and we have to stop by the cleaners because my clothes are a mess.”

Yeosang runs a hand through his hair and put his headphones back on “No need you can do both at my place, let’s go.”

You hesitantly follow him out the gym into his car. Nervous because he’s acting as if you both weren’t competing for a spot earlier. Maybe this little rivalry wasn’t as serious as you thought.

“By the way, it was luck that you pushed into the spot above me, don’t forget.” He said it with a smile knowing that the comment would heat your temper. Nevermind. This rivalry is most definitely real and mutual. You guys begin the ride to his place.

[ A drive later]

Yeosang let’s you out the car and you finally can see the place this rude show off lives at, but instead of a lame apartment complex with no personality it’s a family home. You tilt your head confused on how someone as obnoxious and pretentious as him can live in such a warm looking place. He’s already at the door since he probably passed you while you were lost in your speculations and confusions.

“Are you coming in or what.” He sighs as he’s placing the key to open the door, once it opens his house already has an aroma of his eucalyptus cologne and laundry detergent. You both walk in.

“You barely have a job how could you even afford a family home for you alone.” You’re gawking at how neat and nice the house was, seeming like those homes you see in magazines that you wish you could buy.

He shrugged while sitting his gym backpack on the ground, “I saved money up when I could..plus the utilities downstairs are worn out and bad condition, hot water goes out fast so I got it for cheap.”

What he told you was essentially in one ear out of the other while you scan the house and the impressive color coordinated furniture and decor, mixtures of greys blacks and shades of blue in this current room.

Yeosang stood there humoring the fact you were amazed by his living conditions. “Anyway, make sure you get in the shower on time and the washing machines are to your left and I’ll be showering upstairs”

“Yea heard you, thanks Yeosang.” You just wanted to hurry out before you have to spend another minute around him.

You went into the bathroom and started the water, He said the utilities down here were bad sooo it probably takes a while for the water to heat up you thought. You leave the bathroom and head to the washroom to start your clothes and wait for them first. You place all your clothes in the washer and put it on a 30 minute cycle to ensure the stains will come out and that they’ll be extra fresh.

30 minutes pass and you return to the washroom after lounging in his living room. The washer went out halfway through. The stains are barely out and you’re losing it. You start the wash over and head to the shower but once you hop in the water is icy cold that makes you wince and hop out and shut it off immediately.

“KANG YEOSANG.” You screamed from downstairs hoping he’d hear and come down. Yet you see that to no avail he hasn’t came out his room and can hear the faint sound of his shower running meaning he won’t be coming from upstairs anytime soon.

You wrap yourself into a towel and rush upstairs and burst into his room and make your way to his bathroom making sure to open his door slowly and announce yourself so you won’t see him in the nude. Once you see his shower curtain is fully closed you now fully walk in.

“I heard you coming up what’s the problem y/n since you always seem to find one.” He peeks his head out to see you with an apathetic expression.

“You’re setting me up for failure. The washer went out and the shower is ice cold how am I supposed to freshen up and get home in these conditions.” Your arms are crossed and brows are furrowed.

“Ugh I literally told you the hot water goes out fast, you just weren’t listening.”

You now realize you trying to get out of his place as fast as possible has cost you to not have a simple in and out pit stop situation at this man’s house.

You let out a frustrated sigh and slide yourself down the wall you were leaned against feeling doomed.

“Here just come in here with me, I know you want to hurry and get back to your friends.”

You know deep down that this will probably lead to something dangerous, I mean it’s showering with your competition and the man you hate the mosts at the gym. But you’re desperate to get home and get to the gym in clean clothes.

“Fine you creep.”

You hop in the shower with him trying your absolute best and with all mental strength to not look at him a single bit, in comparison Yeosang is looking directly at your body while having an obvious smirk. Despite his initial perversion he turns away from you to give you as much privacy as possible after handing you a rag and the aloe soap he was using.

As you both were washing yourselves, while scrubbing your upper body you caught a glimpse of Yeosangs body. His physique was so brawny but gentle at the same time. The main thing catching your eye being his back and arms. That’s when the sexual thoughts start and you can’t help but think about and imagine how he can manhandle you into any position and get to work.

“Stop eye fucking me y/n.” He casually says without turning, as if he had eyes on the back of his head or can simply sense your eyes scanning his soapy muscles.

You know you were practically eyeing him like a piece of meat but when it comes to Yeo…denial is your bestfriend. You sucked your teeth, “I wouldn’t even actually fuck you let alone eye fuck you.”

Yeosang casually continues to wash himself down while a small laugh leaves his lips. “I beg to differ.”

Your mouth is agape and in disbelief from his snide remark..but you strangely want to push this scenario..“I doubt you could even make me cum in the first place in all honestly.”

“Bet I could make you in 5 minutes.” Oh he’s game.

“If you could even make me cum period, I’d let you get to the squat bar before me when the comp starts tomorrow.” You continue to wash your back, anticipating his answer to the offer.

He finally turns to you, having such an evil grin. He gets closer, you twos chest touching from how close he’s gotten. “Alright y/n, you’ve got a bet.”

Literally a couple minutes later

Yeosang has you backed up into and pressed against one of the shower walls, fingering you at a pace that has you biting your lip and having to control how much you move your hips to get more friction. Giving you kisses that are hungry and full of lust. Even though you feel like you’re on cloud 9, you can’t let him know how good he’s making you feel.

“Wow. I thought I’d cum in 5, I doubt I’ll cum at all at this rate.” You’re hoping he can’t clock your ragged breaths from the stimulation.

He stops and scoffs as if that’s the worse thing you’ve told him ever. He pulls his fingers out quicker than you could now and give you a stare that you could only describe as primal.

“Let me show you who’s really stronger between the two of us..”

Yeo lifts up your legs and gets on his knees. He rests your legs on his shoulders and uses all his upper body and arm strength to keep you held up. Then he immediately goes for your cunt, he automatically starts licking and prodding your entrance with his tongue.

“Put me down we might fall.” You gasp knowing you’re holding in a moan that’s itching to tumble out of your mouth.

Yeosang pulls his face away for a moment and laughs as though you said a joke. He tensed and flexed his muscles in his typical show off fashion. “Trust me, you’re not falling anytime soon.” He goes back to attacking your cunt.

He switches between flicking your clit with his tongue at an overly stimulating pace that makes you squirm and then brings his tongue in and out your hole causing you to breathe rapidly.

“You’re such a mess from my mouth alone, ‘s cute”. He mutters before continuing to move you a bit so you’re indirectly riding his face.

“I hate you, so much Yeo..” You whimper as you try to grip the slick tile shower walls for solace.

You can feel yourself reaching the edge but he stops and gently drops you back down onto your feet without you slipping a bit. He effortlessly bends you over and smacks your ass twice, causing you to yelp. He snickers at your sudden reaction and attempts to slide his cock in. It slides in and you make a sigh of relief as his moderate thrust begin making your legs quiver. But since he can’t get a good stance from the wet floor he accidentally slips out.

His cock slips out another time and he grunts in frustration. He cuts the water off and picks you up bridal style with ease and no hesitation. He walks you both out the bathroom and practically tosses you in the bed and immediately parts your legs. He holds your legs up for you since he knows you’re already weak. Both of your bodies are still dripping with shower water and now sweat from the intensity of everything.

“Now I can fuck you like you deserve.”

No warning he drives his thick cock in. You’re folded in such a way that it’s almost like it’s straight out of a rough porno. Your glistening bodies and his messy hair makes this so much more erotic. His thrust are so harsh and strong it’s moving your body upwards per each thrust.

“Hate me so bad but you’re taking my dick, pathetic. Trying to be all big and bad when you’re a bitch in heat.”

“Shut up.” You gasp from how his cock hits you at the exact right spot almost each and every time. “Me letting you fuck doesn’t mean….” You can’t even finish your sentence because moans keep spilling out.

“You can’t even talk. Is it that good ? I know it is but I wanna hear you say it.”

You cover your face with your forearm because the humiliation has you clenching around him and a shadow of shyness takes over you now. Yeosang immediately ends it though, using only one hand to hold your ankles up he moves your arm away with his free hand so he can see you squirm under him. He fucks into you harder, you can hear his hips collide into yours. His hips are relentless while fucking his cock into you.

“Should’ve known that bad attitude was because you wanted my cock. Irritated because you needed to be fucked into a mattress.”

“Yeosang I’m sorry for being so rude, speed up so I can cum please.” You can’t believe those words came out your mouth for the man you despise the most .

He stops and you whine from the sudden emptiness you feel from him taking his cock out. He lifts you up onto your knees and holds your head/jaw in his hand. He brushes his thumb on your lips.

While he stares and smirks he hits you with a command. “Open for me.” He lightly prods his thumb between your lips as if he alr knew you’d open your mouth up just for him, and you did. Your mouth wide he presses his thumb down on your tongue and licks his lips. He puts his face over yours and spits in your mouth.

He gives a nonchalant smile afterwards, and gives you a messy kiss and harshly grabs your ass.

“I knew you’d do it for me, such a good girl…let me help you since you’ve been so good.” He says while bending you over into doggy. You start in the regular position but he pushes your upper body farther into the bed and has your ass high up in display for him. Then he brings his cock back into you. Yeosang immediately starts giving rapid thrust, dragging his dick in and out like he never wanted you to forget this.

You immediately clench around him and can feel your cunt becoming wetter and wetter by the second. You keep repeating Yeos name like a mantra for good luck and moaning like you don’t have an ounce of shame in your body.

Yeosang starts groaning from how tight your cunt was and how hot you looked. He was pulling your hair and it’s a mess, lips looking plump and lightly swole from the bruising kisses and your eyes were glassy. Your body was still glistening and looked like artwork in front of him. He couldn’t help himself and began to smack your ass. You brace your body and felt like you could cum right then and there and whined loudly which was music to his ears.

“Yeosang I’m so close it’s too much.” Your pupils are blown and you feel the white hot knot inside you slowly unravel.

“Me too…where do you want me to cum, where do you want me to make a mess.” Yeosang utters breathlessly.

“In me, please just fill me up.” You know if you were in your right mind you wouldn’t dare let his man finish in you, but the fog of pleasure you’re in clouds your judgement.

“Cmon y/n cum on my cock.” He demands right before smacking your ass a final time surely leaving a mark behind. The band in your belly snaps and you squirt all over him and simultaneously you can feel him practically breeding your cunt. You’re both breathless and fall out onto the bed. Drained of energy, you lay on your stomach trying to gain back control of your breathing. You feel Yeosang leave the bed.

Is this how it ends ? You fucked dumb on this assholes bed while he washes up to come back and either kick you out or leave you alone here to go elsewhere. You sigh and start mentally preparing yourself to get out his bed, put your probably damp gym clothes back on and take a walk of shame into a cheap uber. Yeosang returns but instead of him walking in ready to tell you to leave he comes in with grey pajama pants on and a black tanktop. In his hands he has a wooden tray meant for eating in bed. There was a small white plate with 2 toasts and a glass of juice and a chilled water bottle. He gets back into the bed sitting in front of you

You quirked an eyebrow and looked to Yeo, “What’s this for, you think I need a quick pity meal before you kick me out of here” You roll your eyes while ripping the toast apart and eat it with slight annoyance.

“….Kick you out ?” He looks just as confused as you were when he presented the food tray to you. “I’m not kicking you out Its about 11pm and none of your clothes have been dried yet you can’t even go anywhere.”

An “oh” was all that came out of you. It was all you could come up with in response since you’re surprised he isn’t trying to run you out of here like you assumed and actually cares a bit.

“Plus all you ate at the gym was a fucking granola bar.”

You finish up the toasts and take the folded napkin in the tray to wipe off some messy crumbs. You brush your hands of any other crumbs that could be lingering over the tray. “I guess I’ll just text San and Jongho now to pick me up once my clothes dry.”

He lays by you on the bed, reaches to his drawer and grabs a spare pair of boxers and a large black tee. “Here, wear these and just spend the night….let them know you’ll see them at the first part of the competition tomorrow.”

You can’t believe this. He’s actually trying to act as though you’d sleep in the same bed with him knowing for sure that you literally despise him. Loathe him. Can’t standdd him.

You take the clothes and turn over to your gym bag to grab your phone. You immediately text San and Jongho that you won’t be coming home tonight and you’ll see them tomorrow.

Part two coming soon.

[demonslayedher]

Nerdy cultural details about the Hashira

Some details can be hard to pick up without context or in translation. Here's a handful for fun:

Breath names:

The "Mushi" (蟲) of "Mushibashira" (蟲柱) does not necessarily mean "insect." It's also not the more commonly used "mushi" kanji (虫). Kanji is often formed with many components compounding together to make new meanings, and 蟲 is a crowd of three 虫. While it might be tempting to simply say that this is a whole bunch of 虫, I've also heard this described as 蟲 being the more abstract idea of the concrete 虫, or that 蟲 went through a resurgence in popularity shortly before the Taisho Period. 虫 is preferred nowadays for its simplicity.

In either case, it's not necessarily "insects." Rather than being limited to six-legged creatures, "mushi" is a catch-all term for many kinds of creepy-crawlies that simply do not fit in other categories of animals, so spiders and centipedes and worms are all part of it. Actually, the term was originally used for snakes!

Next, what are picturing when you hear "Stone Hashira"? Something in your hands that you can throw? A big stone to lay on for warmth after training in a waterfall?

You could think even bigger than that, because the "stone" kanji used is "iwa" 岩. This is usually something at least as big as the boulders Himejima pushes around to train with, but it could just as well be a whole cliff.

So then how about that issue raised about how you can never refer to "Flame Breath" as "Fire Breath"? This might be a review since it gets brought up a lot, but it's worth restating because it makes a lot of sense in context.

First, we have two kanji to work with: 炎 for flames, and 火 for fire. To make a long linguistic history short, Japan adopted written pictographic characters from China, smashed and smooshed them around to fit the spoken Japanese language, and eventually many kanji wound up with multiple pronunciations. Case in point, 炎 is "hono'o" in the context of Flame Breathing (Hono'o no Kokyuu), and "en" in the context of "Flame Hashira" (En-bashira).

火 likewise has multiple pronunciations, but a common one is "hi." Another simple kanji that can be read "hi" is 日, the sun.

Therefore, even if they are written differently, "Sun Breathing" and "Fire Breathing" would sound the same, as "Hi no Kokyuu." This also makes it easy for "Hinokami" to be construed as "Fire God" instead of "Sun God." But why stop there, really? If you want to get into older Japanese, sometimes phonetic "hi" was used in simple reference to the power of gods.

Symbolism:

This is still somewhat linguistic rather than symbolic, but you know how Sound Breath is derived from Thunder Breath?

It's worth pointing out that "Kaminari" (雷) in "Kaminari no Kokyuu" is in reference to the sound, as opposed to something like "Ikazuchi no Kokyuu" for "Lightning Breath" in reference to the sight. We can get really, really nerdy about Japanese words for thunder and lightning and how they relate to Kimetsu no Yaiba, so I already did that here.

What's more interesting to me in regard to Sound Breath is that it takes the "sound" concept of thunder and pushes it--this time with a bit of a firework motif, again in a way that would stress the sound instead of the dazzling light. Both Uzui and Zenitsu have exceptional hearing and are exceptional users of their Breath techniques, so this is either curious that a discerning sense of hearing might help, or ironic that they use such loud styles with their sensitive ears.

Moving on to snakes! There's really no shortage of serpent symbolism, so we'll just focus on a handful of examples. I have already written extensively about the positive associations snakes have with riches, especially white snakes. This is ironic, given Iguro's distasteful paste driven by riches.

Some of the other positive associations with snakes are that they are a water element animal on the geomancy system borrowed from China. Makes sense that this Breath would be derived from Water Breathing! There are many shrines dedicated to snakes and their gifts of rain and clean water, however, water can also be dangerous. A common interpretation of a major legend about an eight-headed giant serpent, the Yamata-no-Orochi, is that it symbolizes the destructive power of a flooded river. But hey, at least snakes are often equated to dragons for having the same water association, so that's pretty cool.

Setting aside the water association, the serpent itself can likewise be considered in negative lights. In the centuries leading up to the Taisho Period, it became commonplace in Buddhist teachings and entertainment to compare jealous women to snakes. This association with woman also adds another layer of cruel irony to Iguro's past.

On a happier note, let's move on to cherry blossoms!

Well, not always happy, seeing as they are known to scatter tragically soon (I am shaking my fist at you, Gotouge). Cherry blossoms are also heavy with all the directions you can go in with symbolism, and I don't have any particular take on why they are part of the overall motif of the Love Hashira (see here for a little commentary on why it is "Koi" 恋 and not "Ai" 愛).

However! I do want to point out something very clever Gotouge did!

You know how Mitsuri's hand guard looks like four hearts that all meet at their pointy ends? This is actually a traditional cherry blossom motif!! Not a very common one, which is why I find it so sly.

Personal Names:

Bear with me, this section will get slightly more speculative, as names are always up to interpretation. I should know, I've done a lot of that for this series.

Remember how kanji can be read in multiple ways? Here's something simple you'd see right away in Japanese but that gets lost in translation to most other languages. Both Sanemi and Genya have 弥 as the second character in their personal name (as "mi" or "ya"). This was not the case for all their siblings, but it's cute that the two of them share it anyway.

So what does it mean? In modern kanji dictionaries, it's pretty bland: "increasingly." However, this kanji has more interesting use and associations that that. It was originally 彌, which carries more of an image of a stretched bow, or how something might go wide and disperse. As a child's name, this might include some hope that they might grow big and tall and go to great places. It is also commonly used in expressing the names of Buddhist deities in Japanese, but it is used only for the "mi" sound instead of the meaning in these cases. (Still, 弥 is one of the "Namu Amida Butsu" characters all over Himejima's haori, which also adds a little cuteness to his associations with Genya.)

So how about someone else with a name that closely matches his brother's? We get a pretty good explanation of Yuichiro (有一郎) and Muichiro (無一郎), with 有 and 無 being opposites (to exist/to not exist). While 有 might be more straightforward in wishing for Yuichiro to have all his needs met, the "mu" in "muichiro" is for "limitless/infinity/etc, etc."

But also!!

It bares distinct resemblance to a common Zen phrase, "Honraimuichimotsu" (本来無一物), with "muichimotsu" meaning "nothing exists" (and therefore, you have nothing to worry about, just be happy).

Speaking of resemblances, "Tomioka Giyuu" has two kanji in common with the name of the mangaka of Hunter x Hunter and I sometimes wonder if he was named in homage. But that is neither here nor there, and I'll just finish today by focusing on "Giyuu" (義勇).

This is pretty basic and straightforward: "loyalty/justice" and "bravery/courage." Pretty lofty. Put them back together and it's basically a set term for "heroism."

However, put it together with other terms for squads or armies, and this is the now the word for "volunteer soldier" or "volunteer army." Historically, it would continue to be used a few decades after Kimetsu no Yaiba takes place, but the decades prior, there were "Giyuutai" organized volunteer troops as well. Perhaps Giyuu had ancestors who fought as volunteer soldiers? Who knows.

[sweetfirebird]

tariff/economy stuff

Rest of the world, feel free to ignore more America is a hellscape news. :)

Americans, be sure to contact your reps this week and yell at them about the economy, layoffs, and shortages. Be sure to use the word Recession and, if you want, call it "the recession Republicans could have stopped."

If they need it spelled out for them, because a lot of them probably do not grasp economies or supply chain issues or how diplomacy and trade work, it goes like this:

Supplies have to be ordered, many MANY of them from China. This isn't just finished products, it is components, it's materials, it's things like the bottles and jars your food comes in, no matter where the food originally comes from.

It also means medicines, just fyi.

It then takes the supplies weeks to get from China to America. Then they are unloaded and shipped around the country, employing thousands and thousands of people. (And if those people aren't working, they aren't buying. And if the people who support those workers, like in restaurants around the ports and hubs, aren't working because the ports are quiet, they also don't spend money. And so on . And so on.)

Meanwhile, businesses with lower sales lay off employees as well, and those employees don't spend money. Leading to more layoffs and so on, in a shit loop that it is hard to get of. Even with a competent leader who gives a shit.

But! What about new trade deals? Well those take a while to work out --and--the longer American shelves are empty, the weaker our negotiating position is. --This is how bad Trump is at this. Do you get it now? But let's say he made a deal with one country in mid-May. It would still take weeks, if not longer, for products to arrive. And then there might be a bottleneck, further complicating matters and creating more delays.

But remember our now-weakened bargaining position? The products are probably going to cost more than they did pre-Trump tariffs. Woo! He is SUCH a great negotiator.

And that is just CHINA. What about Canada and Mexico? You know where a ton of our materials come from and where a lot of our food comes from.

Meanwhile, recessions don't just stop and turn on a dime. People have to work to build up savings (or even a tiny financial cushion to allow them to spend) again. They have to pay off loans and credit card bills from the recession. They have to catch up on medical appointments they put off because they were broke and this is America. Companies have to feel secure enough to hire employees back and they will not be generous with their hours at first.

And I am not even factoring in the federal worker layoffs and the effect that will have on *their* support businesses and the towns they live in.

That is the only kind of trickle down that ever happens. Bullshit trickles down. Money does not.

And you might be thinking, oh they want to crash the economy so billionaires can privatize services. And some of them do. But Trump hates bad polling numbers. And the lower his numbers go, the more people stand up to him. And you know what I realized today? It's the Republicans in congress who keep going on about being afraid of the midterms. I've been worried over government takeover stuff where elections won't matter, but Republicans in congress are worried about midterms. The White House is worried that midterms will mean impeachment for real. That means you still get to harass your congresspeople! Make them piss themselves!

[scalene-4]

when i was 19 years old living in boston as a fresh college dropout (and as i would find out 6 years later, an egg) i tried heroin so that i could tell my friends about it. drugs had played a pretty central role in my day to day life since high school and like any other kid that age i tended to take anything with the right blend of danger and insight and make it my entire personality — eventually i’d learn to channel that obsessive nature fully into music and generally Being Alive but that was quite a ways away.

i got off work one night at about 2am and headed to my dealer’s house. he was the younger brother of another student i was somewhere between friends and acquaintances with — a burly paranoid typhoon of a human who wanted to be jim morrison almost as badly as i wanted to be kurt cobain. i usually would buy coke and weed from him and take whatever random pills he happened to have lying on the table; today the proverbial super mario box sporting a “?” contained something new.

“you see that bag on the table that looks like brown coke?”

“yeah.”

*laughs* “that’s heroin.”

this was it. with no shortage of shame i must admit i was really excited and had been fantasizing about this moment since age 14, walking around my high school campus nursing some heartbreak or another and listening to 40oz to freedom by sublime.

my dealer instructed me to rack out a little bump no bigger than my pinky nail (which since i bite them is even smaller than normal), and wait till i felt it before taking any more. naturally when it didn’t kick in immediately i insisted on doubling down. also as much as i’d love to leave this out i made a decisive point to put on something in the way by nirvana, which to this day sends a seismic cringe rattling down the length of my spine.

we went outside to smoke a cigarette, and immediately a new feeling washed over my body. i can best describe it as the comfort of a loved one putting a blanket over you, coupled with a really intense head rush. i sat down on the curb laughing.

anyone that’s done heroin before will tell you that it’s pretty normal to throw up. i maybe got to enjoy the initial feeling for 5 minutes before nausea took ahold — by this time we’d gone back inside and i’d found a literal blanket to lay on the couch under, but nature was calling.

i’m not sure if this was 15min or an hour, but most of my remaining memories of the actual high consisted of puking into my dealers bathtub while chugging blood orange pellegrino sparkling water in between bouts of nausea. eventually i began to come down and decided to go home, making my way downstairs to his living room. my dealers house was always directed by david lynch, the dialogue jumpy and the atmosphere thick with a decidedly bizarre dread. this entire incident his brother had been sitting in the corner of the living room spiraling out into the singularity of a xanax black hole, and he was still in position when i made it downstairs. while no one was looking, i stole two pills off the top of their fridge that i never ended up taking and they lived in the pocket of jeans i no longer own for quite some time after the fact. i never found out what they were, i think i just swiped them to feel guilty about something.

the part about this story that always sticks out to me is the visual component — they don’t tell you that heroin has a slight psychedelic component to it. everything looked like the first bit of the wizard of oz, sepia toned and monochromatic. a drug experience that had taken me straight to kansas as if it was the land of oz itself. i didn’t trust the wizard here (he was scary) and it was time to leave.

the oz comparisons don’t end at the light brown tinge to reality — i opted to walk home to my apartment as the sun was coming up, and as i navigated the boston streets still in an opiate haze my dealer rolled past me on his bike. cackling like the wicked witch herself as he disappeared into the fading summer darkness. one day i’m going to put that into a music video or something, it’s funnier the more i look back on it but at the time it was really strange and freakish and amplified my urge to get home to safety. eventually i made it to my mattress on the floor at 54 burbank street, and passed out as the sun came up.

it would take another 5 years for me to stop using hard drugs and another after that to quit drinking alcohol. i’d write sober shortly after the latter, a song about missing fucked up adventures such as the one above despite knowing all roads containing such mishaps tend to lead to the same destination. these days i find a lot of joy in seeking out strangeness without having to take a pill or snort or smoke or inject something as a cover fee, strangeness that since i’ve moved to new york city has been in no short supply. after using heroin that first time i made a point to tell everybody i’d done it, expecting shock and awe and pats on the back for some reason. i regret being repulsed and disappointed at my friends’ concern, like they were yawning at a trapeze act i’d spent months perfecting. i think i’m still learning to reckon with the piece of myself that feels as if she has to put herself in mortal danger and spiritual agony for attention — hopefully at that point i at least get a half decent song out of it. don’t do drugs kids :) or do, it’s none of my business

2 things to add:

-said dealer texted me like 5-6 years after this saying i owed him money and after responding in a panic asking what for, he said “just kidding lol” and i haven’t heard from him since. he might be dead

-i’m aware that there’s a deeply rooted and kind of beautiful irony in my posting this story for attention