#Natural Rubber Price

[cost-masters]

Reasons Why Natural Rubber Prices are Increasing?

Discover the latest rubber price trends and industry news in India for 2024. Stay updated on the fluctuations of natural and synthetic rubber prices, affecting factors, and expert analysis. Get insights into the Indian rubber market and make informed decisions.

[duratufproducts1]

Find the best Natural Rubber Sheets Price, Manufacturers and suppliers

Find the best Natural Rubber Sheets Price, Manufacturers and suppliers in Qatar. Purchase long-lasting, premium rubber sheets for commercial and industrial applications at affordable prices. For all of your rubber sheet needs, compare costs, look into your options, and get in touch with Duratuf right now!

[chemanalystdata]

Natural Rubber (TSR) Prices Trend | Pricing | News | Database | Chart

 Natural Rubber (TSR) prices play a significant role in the global commodities market, given the critical importance of this material in industries such as automotive, manufacturing, and consumer goods. TSR, or Technically Specified Rubber, is a standardized form of natural rubber produced in specific grades to meet industrial requirements. Price movements in this commodity are influenced by a complex interplay of factors, including supply-demand dynamics, geopolitical influences, economic trends, and weather patterns. As a primary input for tire production and various other applications, fluctuations in TSR prices have a cascading impact across multiple sectors. Recent trends in the market reflect an increasing awareness of sustainability and the growing integration of environmentally friendly practices in rubber plantations and production processes, influencing cost structures and market behavior.

The production of natural rubber is highly sensitive to climatic conditions and agricultural practices. Rubber plantations, primarily located in tropical regions such as Southeast Asia, are vulnerable to weather anomalies, diseases, and pests. Prolonged droughts or excessive rainfall can significantly reduce latex yields, creating supply shortages and driving prices upward. Furthermore, diseases like leaf fall or white root rot can devastate plantations, further exacerbating supply issues. Recent years have seen efforts to implement sustainable farming practices and better disease management techniques, aiming to stabilize production and mitigate price volatility. However, these measures often come with higher production costs, which can influence TSR prices over time.

Get Real Time Prices for Natural Rubber (TSR) :  https://www.chemanalyst.com/Pricing-data/natural-rubber-1327

Geopolitical factors and government policies also significantly impact TSR prices. Export restrictions, tariffs, and trade agreements among major producing countries, such as Thailand, Indonesia, and Malaysia, can create supply bottlenecks, leading to price spikes. The establishment of cartels or producer groups aiming to regulate rubber prices can also lead to deliberate market interventions. For instance, the International Tripartite Rubber Council (ITRC) has periodically taken steps to stabilize prices through production controls. On the other hand, currency fluctuations in major producing countries play a role, as most international trade in natural rubber is conducted in U.S. dollars. A weakening of local currencies against the dollar can make rubber exports more competitive, influencing global price trends.

The growing emphasis on environmental concerns and sustainable practices is reshaping the TSR market. Buyers and end-users are increasingly demanding responsibly sourced rubber, leading to certifications and adherence to stringent environmental standards. While this trend promotes ethical production, it also adds to the cost of compliance, impacting TSR pricing structures. Additionally, innovations in synthetic rubber alternatives and recycling technologies are introducing competition, potentially altering long-term demand patterns for natural rubber. However, despite these challenges, natural rubber remains irreplaceable in specific applications, particularly in heavy-duty tires and high-performance products, where its superior elasticity and durability are unmatched.

Market speculation and financial trading also contribute to short-term price volatility in the TSR market. Futures contracts and derivative trading in commodities exchanges such as the Tokyo Commodity Exchange (TOCOM) and the Singapore Commodity Exchange (SGX) influence spot prices and market sentiment. Traders and investors closely monitor global economic indicators, inventory levels, and weather forecasts to predict price movements, creating a dynamic and often unpredictable pricing environment. These speculative activities, while essential for liquidity, can lead to exaggerated price swings, impacting both producers and consumers of TSR.

The outlook for TSR prices is tied to evolving trends in global trade, technological advancements, and environmental policies. With the automotive industry's rapid transformation toward electrification and sustainable practices, the demand for premium-quality natural rubber is expected to grow. This shift is likely to spur investments in research and development, leading to the creation of enhanced rubber grades that meet stringent performance and environmental criteria. Additionally, the rising adoption of automation and smart farming technologies in rubber plantations could improve yields and reduce production costs over time, stabilizing supply and mitigating price fluctuations.

In conclusion, TSR prices are influenced by a myriad of factors, including economic conditions, production challenges, environmental concerns, and geopolitical dynamics. While short-term price volatility remains a concern, the long-term prospects for natural rubber appear robust, driven by consistent demand from key industries and ongoing innovations in production and applications. Stakeholders across the value chain, from farmers and producers to manufacturers and traders, are adapting to these changes, ensuring that the natural rubber market continues to evolve in response to global economic and environmental imperatives.

Welcome to ChemAnalyst App: https://www.chemanalyst.com/ChemAnalyst/ChemAnalystApp

Contact Us:

ChemAnalyst

GmbH - S-01, 2.floor, Subbelrather Straße,

15a Cologne, 50823, Germany

Call: +49-221-6505-8833

Email: sales@chemanalyst.com

Website: https://www.chemanalyst.com

[beloveds-embrace]

Okay what if (and stop me if I'm wrong here I'm new to A/B/O) the guys see someone flirting with the designation-less reader and they start subtly start marking them with pheromones to tell everyone else to back off?

I love this idea so much ugh 😩 scenting in the omegaverse always makes me so jdjsjen and no worries! Nothing about what you said is wrong and welcome to the blessed cursed space that is a/b/o

Original post

It started with Price and Ghost stepping into the armory.

You hadn’t noticed them at first, too focused on trying to edge away from the overly friendly Alpha soldier who just wouldn’t take the hint, no matter how disinterested you made sure you looked. He was leaning in closer than necessary, voice dropping lower with each word like he was trying to make the conversation feel more personal. Though your nose picked nothing, you just knew he was probably, likely, drowning the area with his stench.

You didn’t know how to stop it without making a scene. It wasn’t like he’d done anything wrong- just too many compliments, too much interest in your plans after hours, too much weight in the way he said your name. It left you off balance, unsure if you were imagining the tension curling low in your stomach. Unpleasant tension, as if youmd accidentally eaten spoiled food.

These days, it seemed as if you either garnered no attention, and when you did, it was unwelcome attention. At least it was different and far more pleasant with the 141.

“So, love, I was wondering-“

Then Price cleared his throat.

It wasn’t loud, but it cut through the room like a gunshot, sharp and commanding. Both you and the soldier froze, heads snapping toward the sound, and there he was- Captain Price, standing in the doorway like he owned the entire building, eyes locked right on the man in front of you.

Ghost was just behind him, silent and still as a shadow, but the weight of him filled the room like a second presence- dark, heavy, watching, shoulders tense like Price. You’ve been with them long enough to tell when they are angry based on body cues, and right now, that’s what they were.

Not for the first time, you wondered just what they’d smell like. Would it be heavy and harsh on your nose? Somehow, you doubted it. Then again, Soap did tell you that angry Alphas smell like burnt rubber most of the time.

You eyed the way your… admirer’s nose wrinkled, jaw tight, eyes shifting around.

You hoped it smelled worse.

The soldier stumbled over a few words before making an excuse to leave. He didn’t even try to finish the conversation- rude- and barely managed to keep his composure as he slipped out the door.

Letting out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, your shoulders relaxed slightly as you turned to thank them- but the words caught in your throat when you saw the way they were now looking at you.

It wasn’t anger, exactly. It was something… sharper. Something that made your pulse quicken and your palms feel clammy, even though you hadn’t done anything wrong.

But then Price strode towards you and nodded, low and firm, clasping a hand on your shoulder, and Ghost lingered just long enough to brush his shoulder against yours before following him out the door.

… weird Alphas.

“Weird Alphas.” You said outloud as well, huffing.

You thought that was the end of it.

It wasn’t.

It was subtle, so subtle that you almost didn’t notice at first.

Soap was the easiest to miss, playful and touchy by nature so much so even one as people-averse as you were comfortable next to him by now. He slung an arm over your shoulders whenever you were nearby, leaning into your space like it was nothing. He’d linger there just long enough that your skin was warm before pulling away, flashing you a knowing grin you didn’t understand.

Gaz was more deliberate. He’d pass you things- gear, water bottles, paperwork, pens- and his fingers always brushed yours and lingered. Small steady touches, leaving traces of his warmth on everything he handed you, leaving traces of his warmth on your skin. When you worked together, he’d lean in close enough that his presence settled over you, wrapping around your skin like a second layer. Your shoulders and thighs would touch, and sometimes you swore you could feel a deep purr coming from him.

Price didn’t touch you often, but when he did, it lingered and was acutely felt. A hand at the small of your back to guide you through a crowded hallway. A warm palm resting against your shoulder during debriefings, right where your faulty scent glands are. Solid, steady touches that felt heavier than they should’ve- clearly intentional even to the likes of you, and yet you didn’t want to really, truly acknowledge them.

And Ghost- Ghost was the worst.

He didn’t say a single word when he draped his jacket over your shoulders after a long, rain-soaked training session, the heavy fabric still warm from his body and shielding you from the wafting chill. You’d tried to give it back later, but he pushed it into your hands with a low, demanding “Keep it.” That left no room for argument. You didn’t think much of it at first- just a practical gesture- but you caught the way the others looked at you after, the raised brows and faint smirks that made you second-guess what it really meant, especially when you found yourself wearing it long after the cold had faded. You’d tried wearing your own jacket, but the look he gave you had you sighing, leaving, and returning to wearing his.

You didn’t understand it at first, didn’t recognize it for what it was. But others did.

It was possessive. Territorial.

The stares started- quick, assessing glances from the other soldiers that led to widened eyes. People moved out of your way in the hallways, gave you more space than before. Conversations shifted when you walked into a room, voices dropping, eyes darting toward the men who always seemed to hover just behind you.

You didn’t know what to make of it.

And then Soap grinned at you over lunch one day where you wearing a shirt of John’s now and Ghost’s jacket, leaning close enough to bump his shoulder against yours, and said, “Looking good, bonnie. Don’t think anyone’s stupid enough to try sniffin’ around you now.”

It took you a second too long to process what he’d said. When you finally did, your eyes darted toward the others- toward Price, who didn’t even look up from his plate, and Gaz, who only smirked and in your shock, slipped the bracelet he was wearing on your wrist. Toward Ghost, who met your gaze with something dark and unreadable before leaning back in his chair like he wasn’t affected at all. No; he was satisfied, like a smug bear.

You swallowed.

It should’ve felt suffocating, overwhelming, but it didn’t.

It felt… safe. Secure in a way you didn’t know how to explain. The guy that had been bothering you had even requested a transfer.

You didn’t say anything, didn’t call them out on it.

But later, when Price pulled you in his face and rubbed his face, his chin and beard all across your neck, you didn’t move away.

The “good girl” you got was all you could think about hours later.

[esthercore]

HSR Men and After Care ₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ₊˚⊹♡

Argenti is a yes, the jack of all trades, everything you can think of, cuddling, talking, cleaning, everything, always, prolonged after care, almost giving you a home spa and massage. Making you feel the luckiest price/princess in the world, yet so effortlessly.

Aventurine's likes cuddles, massaging you and words of affirmation, telling each other pretty things and kissing each other's scars. Staring into each other's eyes before falling asleep.

Blade just lays their and let you do whatever you want to with him, or just do anything you tell him to, really need to be taught tenderness, but will try his best for you.

Boothill will be the one needing some positive pep talk. The man's 95 percent body is metal, so he feels really insecure in his ability to pleasure you. Tell him he did good, and hold him if he tears up. Once he's feeling better again, he help clean up and massage the knots out of your back.

Caelus is so lovely. Oh please teach this sweet racoon puppy how treat you, and he put all his effort into it. He loves you so much and is so desperate for you. He put's the most effort in aftercare, as unlike Argenti who's actions come naturally, Caelus always try to go extra mile to make sure his lover his happy. Maybe even shamelessly ask Himeko for advice or better yet Kafka.

Dan Heng is really good. Coziness is his forte, so bunch of quality time with each other. Not much of a talker, but will listen to you as you lay in his arms, venting out anything and everything that's been bugging you recently, and then kiss your worries out your pretty mind.

Dan Feng (the actual high elder in past) will do the same, but will have tail rapped around your waist, as you two sit on the mat, your back resting on his bare chest, his robe lazily draped, barely hiding his mat, looking at the fountain out in your private courtyard, smoking from his pipe as your beautiful voice fills the room.

Dr Ratio is methodical. He has an algorithm like schedule he likes to follow, laying a towel below you as he prepares the bath, then carrying you princess style, cuddling you in the warm water. His rubber duckies floating around, as he lazily feeds you some grapes and your drink of choice he had prepared. Sometimes he likes to read you whatever stupid fiction book you're into at the moment, things he would never even open himself, but if it's for you, he happily read you the entire thing like an audiobook.

Gallagher is a simple man, he help you clean up, be there till you recover' and then have a smoke, and go about his day, unless you specifically ask him to d something, he don't see the point of doing it.

ForJiaoqui, well is it really a surprise, he will feed you first thing first after some rounds? He needs to ensure you have enough energy. Maybe you're still stuck on his knot, as he make you sit all pretty in his lap, as he feeds you the herbal porridge he had kept ready for his amazing mate.

With Jing Yuan it's cuddle central baby! Gonna plop your body in his, as if you're a plushie, clutch you tight and just fall asleep. Smack him awake if you want proper after care or pass out too, it's not like to you will have energy left after multiple rounds with him.

I believe Luocha will be the best with after care. Very tender, and gentle. The pretty man will be insistive for cuddling you, will clean you so good, make sure you are hydrated, fed and in top notch condition. Will flatter you so much and only be satisfied once you feel like a spoilt prince/princess.

Moze gives you no time for a breather pick you up like a sack and carries you the bathroom, help clean you up, and takes a shower as you yap whole soaking in warm water. Will cuddle after you two are fresh and clean.

Sampo is a meanie, he's the type to tease you even during after care. Calling you a nighty slut, and reminding you the way you acted so desperate and whiny during sex, as he scoop the cum out of your holes, or simply plug you up, if he feels like it. If you tear up he simply his your tears, and hug you tight. Will start calling you sweet names, and i love you's, when you're on the verge of falling asleep tho.

Sunday is well Sunday, he would have water prepared, maids already ordered to run you bath, and even some snacks for you. Even if it's compulsive office sex, he would always be prepared. Very determined while taking care of you. Likes worshipping your body, and trail you with kisses, telling you how perfect, and how pretty you are.

[aerynwrites]

Simple

Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!reader

A/N: the absolute feral nature I have been spitting out fics has been wild. I think i've hit 3 fandoms in the past three weeks and i just...idk wtf is going on lol. I will definitely be revisiting this character though bc..I LOVE HIM YOUR HONOR!!! Hope you all enjoy <3

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: graphic depictions of injuries, blood and gore, canon typical violence, nightmares, mentions of death and dying, hurt/comfort, fluff at the end.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. 

It was supposed to be simple. It was simple. A simple exfil mission, in and out - one and done. It’s the only reason they’d asked you to come along. 

You’re a base medic. Well, technically you’re a field medic too, but you mainly stay on the base. Tend to soldiers there - it’s what you’re good at. 

You aren’t supposed to be here, in the middle of the desert in a humvee now flipping through the air as if time has slowed down. 

It was supposed to be simple. 

The explosion hit without warning, sudden and all at once just as Soap was telling some stupid joke. Just as Ghost was smacking the back of his helmet. Just as you were all laughing after a successful mission with no injuries for you to even worry about. 

It felt like you flew hundreds of feet up in the air. The explosion knocking the wind from your lungs as the humvee is sent careening skywards. Loose items - rifles, packs, abandoned helmets…they all become projectiles inside the crammed space. 

It feels like you’re watching it all in slow motion, your friends bodies being thrown against their seatbelts like rag dolls. The world outside tumbling around you all. The way an arm slings across to cover you, as if that will stop the inevitable. 

Then it’s all over in an instant.

Metal screeches against metal, screams of agony cut short, glass shattering, fire roaring, the smell of burnt oil, and then-

Silence.

Silence, except the ringing ion your ears. Silence, except for the vacant thud of rubber against metal as you slam your boot into the vehicles door.

Silence when you call out their names. 

Complete and utter silence as you step out into the inky black night of the desert, the only light being that of the moon and the fire around you. 

“Lieutenant Riley!” You call out, your comms busted, “Report!”

Your voice is muffled to your ears, and for a moment you hope that he is calling back to you and you just can’t hear it. But as you squint through your swimming vision, the eery stillness of the overturned humvee makes panic settle in your chest. 

“Captain Price, status!”

More silence. 

FUCK!

You’re lurching back to the humvee before you can think about it, reaching in and grabbing the first tactical vest you can latch onto. 

It’s Soap. 

It’s your friend that never ceases to make you laugh. It’s John ‘Soap’ McTavish and he has a fucking pice of metal sticking out of his abdomen and he’s not - oh thank fuck, he’s breathing. 

You pull him several yards away from the crash, ever aware of the smell of gasoline filling the air and - 

You have to get the others.

You pull them all out of the smoking wreckage. 

One, two, three, four-

Price, Gaz, one of the drivers (DOA) and-

Ghost.

Ghost is the last one you pull out and you’re all the way to the others when he blissfully regains some semblance of consciousness, but you aren’t even able to dwell on that. Wide eyes flickering to everyone else who’s either unconcious or dead or about to be-

“Sergent!”

The booming voice startles you from where you dazedly stand over the bodies of the team, and you can’t even find it in you to respond. 

Before you were working on autopilot - get them out, get them away from the wreck, assess, form a plan…

But now it’s all gone out the goddamn window. 

You’re not a fucking field medic. You can’t do this. Your heart pounds in your ears, blood rushing through your veins, chest heaving with breaths you can’t even take. 

The shrapnel in Soap leaves a red stain getting bigger by the second. Price’s arm is bent at an unnatural angle, blood trickling down the side of his head. Gaz’s leg looks like minced meat, bright white bone protruding from-

The world spins on its axis as two strong hands grip the straps of your vest, turning you around to face a very bloodied and angry Lieutenant.

“Sergent I expect a fucking answer when I talk to you!”

You shake your head, Ghost’s voice a million miles away. And only now do you seem to register the warmth trickling down your face, dripping into your eyes, you reach a hand up, fingers coming away red and sticky with blood. Your blood -

“I-I can’t do this,” you manage to whisper, voice pitching higher as the panic sets in further. “I can’t fucking do this-”

A harsh jerk from the man before you startles you slightly back into focus, head swimming again as a gloved hand comes to grip your chin in a firm grip. 

Dark eyes capture your own through the all too familiar mask, and you can feel the heat of his breath on your face from where he stands so close. 

“Pull it together,” he bites, gaze cold yet somehow not completely unkind. “You’re here. Which means you were picked for a reason. So quit your bloody whimpering and help them!”

He shoves you away from them with those final words, pushing your medical pack into your arms as he does so.

“Save them,” he says, pointing behind you to his team, your friends. “That’s an order, sergeant.”

So you do the only thing you can think to do in this moment. 

You follow orders. 

———

Six hours. 

Six hours is how long it took for a med evac to show up. Six hours of patching up your unit. Six hours of watching, praying they didn’t succumb to their wounds. Six hours of you and Ghost waiting for the enemies to show up and finish you off. 

Six hours of life and death. 

You should be thankful it was the former. 

Yet, you’re finding it hard to give thanks. 

It’s hard to be grateful when sleep evades you, nightmares pouring in like a raging river - blood filling your vision both waking and sleeping. 

Even weeks after, you can’t look any of the 141 in the eye. They’ve all thanked you, seeking you out after they woke up. Price’s smile huge, clapping you on the back but always careful to avoid his arm that’s in the sling. Soap tried to hug you when you were summoned to his hospital room, but the wince of pain from his bandaged up abdomen wouldn’t let him. Gaz even sought you out on his own, hobbling on his crutches ‘thank you’s’ falling from his lips like rain.

Thank you for what? You had to stop yourself from asking. 

You were a coward. A bloody fucking coward that was ready to let them lay there and bleed out. They’d all be dead if it wasn’t for Ghost snapping you out of a panic like a parent yelling at their child.

Ghost…

You have yet to see him since the incident with of you being hauled away to medical as soon as you landed. And at this point you can’t tell if he’s avoiding you or you’re avoiding him.

Maybe both. 

————

The nightmares are constant since you’v returned, but they’ve never been like this one. 

Tonight’s is the worst. 

In all the other’s it was just a replay if what happened except maybe you were hurt too or frozen and unable to move, but…tonight’s is different. 

The scene in front of of you is familiar but worse. So much worse. Price, Gaz, and Soap all lay before you in the sand, blood pooling around them, except this time they’re not breathing. That steady rise and fall of their chests is missing and their glassy too-fa- gone gazes stare blankly up at you. 

Blood rushes in your ears, heart thudding out of control in your chest and when you try to reach out to save them - to help them - your body simple won’t move. And when you blink there’s another body there this time, black and white skull balaclava staring up at you now too, that disappointed look etched permanently on his brow. 

No, no, no…

You try to reach out again, but that same invisible force clings to you, and this term you feel it creeping upwards, starting at your feet and crawling up your legs. 

You blink again and they’re all standing in front of you, blood covering them eyes still glassy as they circle around you.

“How can you just stand there?” Soap asks, voice broken and angry from behind you.

“We need help, sergeant!” Price’s voice is next from where he stands in front of you.

“Help us-”Gaz…

“Snap out of it!”

Ghosts voice is loudest of all, and finally you’re able to move, only to see the teams face swirling around you, insults and cries for help filling your ears, drowning out everything else. It all blurs into one, voice melding together in a morbid cacophony of cries. Your hands snap up to your ears, desperate to escape from the onslaught only for two stronger hands to drip your wrists keeping you from relief.

“Oh no,” Ghosts voice oozes malice. “You’re not escaping that easy.”

You close your eyes, not daring to look at the bodies around you, at the manifestation of your failure. 

“Wake up!”

The words seem deafening before it’s like a bucket if ice cold water being dumped onto you. Your throat aches as you launch yourself upwards in bed, body drenched in your own sweat as hands collide with a solid mass in front of you. 

Hands grab you again, and you can’t stop the way you flinch reeling backwards in an attempt to get free. 

“Let go!” You cry, salt on your lips as you realize you’re crying. 

“Stop, stop - it’s me, I-it’s Simon, now-” a harsh jerk of your arms shakes you out of your panic, just alike all those nights ago. “Stop!”

Simon?

Your eyes adjust to the darkness of the room, and though it takes you a moment to realize where you are, you relax ever so slightly when you recognize the familiarity of your quarters. The bed beneath you, sheets tangled haphazardly around your legs. The bedside table, the book you were reading, the window across the room with faint moonlight streaming in, the clock reading 2am, Simon sitting next you hands still wrapped tightly around your wrists-

Wait…Simon?

Your mind repeats his name over and over, and as of sensing your’ve come back down his grip on you loosens as he speaks. 

“Back with me?”

You shake your head, still reeling from your nightmare, heart still pounding chest heaving as you take in deep shuddering breaths. 

“What…what are you doing here?” You ask, voice small as you speak through the tears. 

Simon shrugs, looking away from you now as he lets your arms go entirely. 

“Heard screaming,” he says simply. “Worse than usual. Went on longer.”

He doesn’t offer much else, and it’s in this moment of thick silence that you are finally able to see past the tears to really look at him. It’s hard in the darkness, but your eyes have adjusted enough to see the white bandages still wrapped around his right arm, a result of the nasty gash he’d sustained in the crash. You can even still see the remnants of the head injury too, the skin above his right eye much darker than the rest of his face. Mottled with bruises and stitches…

In fact, it’s only now you realize he’d come to you with his mask off - which, what’s underneath doesn’t wholly surprise you considering you’ve seen it before, being a medic and all but it switches something inside of you. 

Him laying himself bare to you, coming to you in the middle of the night to check on you after everything you’ve done. Everything you failed to do…

The damn breaks and the tears flow freely once more as your shoulders shake with harsh sobs. 

“I can’t do this,” you cry out, curling in on yourself as Simon reaches for you once more, confusion etched into his features. 

“Can’t do what? What are you-”

“This!” You sob, gesturing around you wildly. “I’m not meant to be here. Not after…not after what happened-”

A sharp intake of breath cuts you off as your lungs struggle for air against your cries but Simon doesn’t stop you. Warm hands just fall to rest lightly on the tops of your thighs, as you cry, anchoring you here. 

“I failed them. I failed you-”

“Hey.” His voice is firm, his patience wearing thin as he watches you fall apart in front of you. “I won’t hear any of that.”

You shake your head, aware now that his hands have moved up to cradle your face is his calloused palms, thumbs wiping futilely at your tears. 

“But it’s true,” you whisper, voice thick with emotion. “I’m a coward.”

Thick fingers press into your jaw, not enough to hurt but enough to bring some alertness back into your emotion fogged brain. 

“Would a coward have pulled four men twice their size from a burning wreckage?” He asks, breath warm against your cheek from how close he sits. 

“Would a coward have kept four men alive in the field with barely enough medical supplies?”

You open you mouth to argue, tell him that it only happened once he ordered you to do it, but he persists, not letting you speak. 

“Would a coward have sat there for six fucking hours keeping her men alive under the threat of enemy fire?”

He pauses then, eyes searching your own and giving you a firm shake when you don’t respond. 

“Would a bloody fucking coward have done that?”

His voice is uncharacteristically soft for the words he speaks, and before you can think, you find yourself saying the first thing that comes to mind. 

“No…” the word is barely audible, whimpered out softly. 

But Simon hears you. Because, of course he does. 

On hand slides form you cheek back to tangle in your hair as he pulls you towards him, cradling your face in the crook of his neck.

“No. They wouldn’t have,” he affirms, moving to wrap his other arm tightly around your middle as your cries finally start to subside. 

“Now,” he says after a while, arms never leaving you, “can that coward nonsense and try to get some sleep.”

You watch in slight confusion as he pulls away only to adjust himself to lay next to in the bed, tugging the covers to readjust them from where you’d tossed them away in your sleep induced panic. You want to ask what he’s doing - tell him that he doesn’t have to stay but he seems to read your mind - or rather your hesitance as you watch him.

He pauses just as he’s lifting the covers, eyes finding yours in the dark. 

“You want me to leave?” 

You shake your head almost immediately, the last thing you want is to be alone. 

“No, I just…” you trail off, moving to slip beneath the sheets.

There’s a small moment where both of you pause, neither of you quite sure what to do or how far to go. You’re the first to break the momentary tension, scooting so you’re pressed against his front, hands against his chest as you rest your head in the crook of his neck. You feel as he lets out a deep sigh, one arm slipping beneath the pillow you rest on while the other moves to wrap around your waist, pulling you further into him.

“Thank you, Simon,” you whisper.

His arm tightens around you, and you swear you feel his lips brush against the top of your head. 

“Anytime, love.”

And for the first time in weeks, you both slip into a dreamless slumber.

[bombombooty]

lazy days with the strawhat pirates :)

the days on the sea aren't always full of action, and that's okay! in that moment, it's nice to take the time for yourself... and with your favorite strawhat!

chrs: Monster Trio, Nami, Robin, Usopp

cw: none, just fluff

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

Monkey D. Luffy

and even if it may not be as much of a "lazy day" with the eccentric captain, it most certainly is still an enjoyable one. He who can't completely stay still finds fun in irritating others into hanging out or in his terms, "not being boring"- he says this all with a pout as he waddles around whining to his fellow shipmates

yet if it were truly a lazy day, and the rubber man succumbed to the rays of the afternoon sun, he finds his own enjoyment in stretching his arms all the way around you, gluing himself on and vowing to never let go (he doesn't let you go anywhere without him touching you)

develops a mischievous nature in the sight of the fridge, or what sanji swore to protect from the "hungry beast", but then eventually ends up stealing food after what feels like countless tries

you, always being by his side on these days means sharing food. even if he seems like the person not to, you are a clear exception to him. Whether it be a bite, a chunk, he will give to his favorite person in the world; right after, he drowns you in infinite kisses with that signature grin of his

Roronoa Zoro

the swordsman is always tight-up, never letting his guard down, never letting anyone step all over him and his manly pride. However, that all disappears on a quiet afternoon when you pick up the sound of a certain green-haired man snoring incredibly loud

despite his restful sleep, it won't stop him from grabbing you and holding you tight as if it were a simple habit of his. He snakes his strong arms around you, not letting go until he opens his eyes cluelessly to you in his arms

in mention of that manly pride of his, he trusts you to watch in the distance as he lifts those large dumbbells of his; he finds his confidence raised to the roof when you're there

the poor man, dense as always. the crew always takes the time on moments like this to tease him about the lack of romance he brings to the table. Furious, he simply gives a large frown after protesting that he's a great lover

Vinsmoke Sanji

and if every single day doesn't stop him from spoiling you with his passionate love, these calms day only fuel him more. It's a skill the chef possesses, finding himself to be quite the "professional" in his vernacular

the times he's not in the kitchen, he spends it with you. Looking out into the vast, blue, and majestic sea, he dreams of seeing it all with you- tracing patterns on the back of your hand and a kiss on the forehead, as he rests his head on the crevice of your neck

his romantic tactics comes into the light as he simply asks you to help him in the kitchen. It was just the two of you, sharing a moment together. He, of course, cannot help but flirt with his beautiful lover- in which it then becomes an ever so lovely kitchen date that lasts for hours

sometimes, when the strawhats could still be fast asleep, the blonde-haired man takes the chance to spread a blanket on the grassy floors and have a picnic (along with an occasional addition of the little reindeer, Chopper) with you. With smooth words like silk, it is almost as if he serenades you. It doesn't take long for you to utter a word of love to him, and his face is a flustering red

Nami

• although the ship itself may be at peace, she still finds herself preferring an intimate, private spot to be with you. In the presence of just the two of you and her endless charts and maps, she'll pepper you with kisses and physical attention. She likes to bug you about her wardrobe, and sometimes, if you're lucky, the tangerine-colored hair woman rambles about all the things she'd like to wear, and their prices; you never see the end of it

• she could be busy logging away things, charting maps, and so on. But sometimes of the ship were too quiet, nami wishes for you to stay by her side silently so she feels more at ease. Don't mention it though, or else she'll kick you out

• with the help of sanji, she'll feed you and herself some of those precious tangerines and numerous drinks he sends down for the two of you to enjoy. Silently, she enjoys seeing the pleasant face you make when you take a bit of the tangerine or a sip of the drink, as she wraps you into a tender embrace that only happens once in a blue moon

• if the morning dawns or the sun falls, she'll gladly encourage you to do a skin routine with her, just so you two can talk endlessly about the infinite random topics that string to no where. As long as you're there, she always feels at home

Nico Robin

• before you know it, she'll have you swayed into the thin sheets of spread out blankets with a book open, the only thing lit in the room being a simple few candles, and maybe a few rose petals. Slowly, she grazes her one of two hands against your hair, the other holding you close to her as you may also have a book- or perhaps not

• she simply wishes to listen to you speak, her undivided attention on you and your kissable face. You may not know what she's thinking, but as the waves collapse onto the Sunny, and the sun shines on the two of you, it's not hard to know that she's ready to press her lips gently onto yours at anytime

• she'll do anything you wish, just as long as she's there to watch- her quiet nature didn't mean she hated it, but she just loved when you do it. Everything about you drove her in a unique way of crazy, and the long-haired woman never wished to let go of it

Usopp

• believe it or not, the sniper was more of an active man. He'll be constructing a new device of his, or playing card games- something to keep him busy. Yet while he's busy he rambles to you, word by word as he makes up all these stories. One of them, being about a certain person in his life that was like an angel sent to him from Skypiea

• he likes to show you, and his little crowd (consisting of luffy and chopper) obvious magic tricks easy enough to amuse the lot of you in an instant, a hearty laugh coming from the curly haired man. His unwavering pride only bigger with you there

• he can be a crazy amount of shy in ratio to his cockiness when it comes to showing you some physical love. But in purpose of showing his love to you, when the sun is low and just the two of you stand on the deck, he'll gladly wrap his arms around you, kissing you in this slightly clumsy, but affectionate way in that unique way of his

(( _ _ ))..zzzZZ

[cost-masters]

Why Natural Rubber Prices are Increasing?

Explore the factors driving the surge in natural rubber prices. Learn about supply chain disruptions, increased demand, and other key influences impacting the global rubber market.

[duratufproducts1]

Natural Rubber Sheets Price, Manufacturers, and Suppliers in India- Duratuf products pvt. ltd

In India and trying to find Natural Rubber Sheets Price, Manufacturers and suppliers? Examine trustworthy producers and vendors like duratuf that provide premium rubber sheets at affordable costs, perfect for commercial, industrial, and specialized uses. India's rubber sheet market offers reasonably priced options that are customized to meet your demands, with a wide range of grades, thicknesses, and widths available. Find the finest deals and reliable partners in India, from major manufacturers to niche suppliers, to guarantee quality and affordability in every order.

[chemanalystdata]

Natural Rubber (TSR) Prices | Pricing | Trend | News | Database | Chart | Forecast

 Natural Rubber (TSR) Prices commonly referred to as Technically Specified Rubber (TSR), plays a vital role in global industries, especially the automotive and manufacturing sectors. The price of natural rubber fluctuates based on a variety of factors, including supply and demand dynamics, geopolitical influences, currency fluctuations, and climatic conditions. Understanding these elements and their effects on natural rubber prices is crucial for industries that rely heavily on rubber as a raw material. In this article, we explore the factors influencing TSR prices and provide insights into current market trends.

One of the primary factors that affects natural rubber prices is supply and demand. The majority of the world’s natural rubber is produced in tropical regions such as Thailand, Indonesia, and Malaysia. These countries, with their favorable climates for rubber cultivation, account for a significant portion of global rubber production. When supply exceeds demand, prices tend to drop, and vice versa. However, supply is not always steady due to several challenges faced by rubber-producing countries. Weather patterns play a significant role in determining output. For instance, rubber production is highly sensitive to changes in weather conditions, with heavy rainfall, droughts, or natural disasters impacting rubber plantations, which can lead to reduced production and supply shortages. These supply shocks, in turn, push natural rubber prices higher.

Get Real Time Prices for Natural Rubber (TSR): https://www.chemanalyst.com/Pricing-data/natural-rubber-1327

Another factor that influences natural rubber prices is currency exchange rates, particularly the strength of the U.S. dollar. Most international trade, including rubber, is conducted in U.S. dollars. When the dollar strengthens, it tends to make commodities like rubber more expensive for buyers in countries that use other currencies, thus impacting demand. Conversely, when the dollar weakens, rubber prices may become more attractive, which could spur greater demand. As such, fluctuations in the currency market add an additional layer of complexity to the pricing of natural rubber, with many stakeholders in the industry keeping a close eye on exchange rate movements to anticipate changes in prices.

In addition to natural weather and currency factors, geopolitical tensions can also play a role in natural rubber price fluctuations. Political instability in rubber-producing countries can affect production and exports, causing uncertainty in the global supply chain. This uncertainty often results in price volatility as buyers attempt to secure supplies ahead of any potential disruption. Moreover, trade agreements and tariffs imposed by major economies can also influence rubber prices. For instance, if a major consumer country like China or the United States imposes tariffs on imported rubber, it could lead to reduced demand or shifts in trade flows, thereby affecting prices.

Another significant factor influencing natural rubber prices is the cost of synthetic rubber, which is made from petroleum-based materials. The two types of rubber—natural and synthetic—are often used interchangeably in various industries, especially in tire manufacturing. When the price of crude oil rises, the cost of producing synthetic rubber also increases, potentially leading to greater demand for natural rubber as a cheaper alternative. On the other hand, when oil prices fall, synthetic rubber may become more attractive to manufacturers, reducing demand for natural rubber. This delicate balance between natural and synthetic rubber prices is an important consideration for industries that rely on both types of materials.

Natural rubber prices are also influenced by the overall global economic environment. In times of economic growth, demand for rubber products such as tires, automotive components, and industrial goods tends to rise, which can lead to increased demand for natural rubber and upward pressure on prices. Conversely, during economic downturns or recessions, demand for these products may decrease, leading to a decline in natural rubber prices. The COVID-19 pandemic, for example, caused disruptions in global supply chains and significantly reduced demand for rubber-based products, resulting in a temporary decline in natural rubber prices. As economies recover and industrial activities pick up, demand for natural rubber is expected to increase, which could push prices higher in the future.

Technological advancements and sustainability trends are also shaping the natural rubber market. In recent years, there has been growing interest in finding sustainable alternatives to natural rubber, especially in industries that are heavily reliant on it. This has led to research into synthetic rubber alternatives that are more environmentally friendly and less dependent on volatile supply chains. At the same time, innovations in the natural rubber industry, such as improved harvesting techniques and better tree management practices, are helping to increase yield and stabilize supply. These developments may help to mitigate some of the price volatility that has historically characterized the natural rubber market.

Looking ahead, natural rubber prices are expected to remain subject to the same factors that have influenced them in the past, such as weather conditions, geopolitical events, currency fluctuations, and economic growth. However, with the growing focus on sustainability and technological innovation, there may be new trends emerging in the natural rubber market that could have a significant impact on prices. For instance, increased investment in sustainable rubber production methods could lead to more stable supplies, while advancements in synthetic alternatives could reduce reliance on natural rubber, potentially affecting demand and prices.

In conclusion, the price of natural rubber (TSR) is shaped by a complex interplay of factors, including supply and demand dynamics, weather patterns, currency exchange rates, geopolitical tensions, and the relative cost of synthetic rubber. As industries that rely on natural rubber continue to evolve, these factors will likely remain critical in determining the future trajectory of natural rubber prices. Additionally, emerging trends in sustainability and technology may introduce new variables into the equation, further adding to the complexity of predicting natural rubber price movements. Industries that depend on natural rubber will need to remain vigilant and adaptable to navigate the ever-changing landscape of the global rubber market.

Get Real Time Prices for Natural Rubber (TSR): https://www.chemanalyst.com/Pricing-data/natural-rubber-1327

Contact Us:

ChemAnalyst

GmbH - S-01, 2.floor, Subbelrather Straße,

15a Cologne, 50823, Germany

Call: +49-221-6505-8833

Email: sales@chemanalyst.com

Website: https://www.chemanalyst.com

[polo-drone-070]

Chevy's Rescue - part 1

The Stirring Concern

The sun hung low over the Gold Stadium as the team wrapped up their evening practice. The air buzzed with the energy of hard work and camaraderie, but Maximus couldn't shake the unease gnawing at him.

"Chevy-bro bin missin practice," Maximus muttered to himself, his brow furrowed as he watched his teammates file into the locker room. Chevy, the team's excitable football pup, was rarely absent—his boundless energy was a staple of every session. Yet now, his absence left an empty space, both on the field and in Maximus's usually carefree mind.

Flashes of their last conversation played in Maximus's thoughts as he entered the locker room. He remembered how Chevy’s eyes had gleamed with envy, the way he had talked about Sxodnir, the incubus form 009—Herc—had been granted by Felix, the mysterious sorcerer, though at the price of servitude.

“I wanna another form like Herc, bro!” Chevy had declared, his tail wagging metaphorically with excitement. “Sxodnir is so strong, powerful, charming. Do ya think Felix could hook me up too?”

Maximus had laughed it off at the time, patting Chevy on the back with a carefree grin. But now, with Chevy missing, that memory felt less innocent.

In the locker room, Maximus peeled off his golden kit, sweat glistening on his muscular frame as he opened his locker. Inside hung the sleek, glossy black polo that defined his existence as Polo-Drone 070. Chevy had received to rubber polo too, as Polo-Drone 063, thought Maximus, looking at his own polo in the locker. He pulled on the rubber polo, buttoning it meticulously to the top.  The transformation was always seamless, a shift from the emotional intensity of Maximus to the calm, focused discipline of 070. As the snug material hugged his form, his mind quieted, the emotions of Maximus receding as 070 emerged. The shift was complete as it adjusted the gold accents on his collar and chest.

It was then, in the clarity of its drone state, that 070 noticed something profoundly wrong. Its connection to 063 was gone. The collective link, usually buzzing with the faint hum of every drone’s presence, was silent where 063’s energy should have been.

Calmly, it finished dressing, iis thoughts sharp and methodical. Chevy giving up the Gold knowingly was very unlikely. Thus, either he was tricked or forced into some predicament. The most likely hypothesis was that he sought out Felix to undergo a transformation and that Felix decided to claim him completely, somehow severing 063 from the Hive entirely. Other forces may be at play, however. This required investigation. The absence of 063 in the link was unacceptable, a disruption in the Hive's unity that needed resolution.

Leaving the locker room, 070's mind was already processing the next steps. He would trace Chevy's last known movements, speak to the drones and Gold Bros who had seen him last, and determine the exact nature of his disappearance. Calm, focused, and driven, 070 set out to find the missing piece of their collective—a mission born of both loyalty to his team and the unwavering discipline of the Hive.

2. A Mission with Purpose

The Hive’s faint hum resonated in 070’s mind as it stepped out of the locker room, the rhythmic sound of its boots grounding it. Despite the transformation that had streamlined its thoughts, 070 still felt—its concern for Chevy lingered in the background like a distant ache. But as a Polo-Drone, it had learned to quell the inefficiency of unchecked emotion. Concern would not interfere; it would drive the mission forward with clarity and purpose.

Chevy’s absence gnawed at 070, not as a distraction but as a problem to be solved. Unity demanded no less. Each Polo-Drone was integral to the collective, and 063’s disappearance was an unacceptable void. A calm determination settled over 070, its serene face betraying no sign of the turmoil beneath. The mission to save Chevy was not just an obligation—it was a necessity.

The first step was data. Felix was the logical starting point. Chevy had speaking openly of seeking the sorcerer’s help for himself after seeing Sxodnir prowess His ambition had led him into dangerous territory. Patiently canvassing the area, speaking to neighbours and pulling the CCTV with  001’s help, 070 slowly connected the dots. There had been sightings of Chevy going to Felix’s estate, and shorty thereafter, of a shiny new golden Porsche, driven by the demon Jaxor, one of Felix’s servant. 070 cross-referenced the details with reports of Felix’s transformations. The pieces fell into place with unsettling precision.

Chevy had sought power and transformation, and Felix had granted his wish—with a cruel twist.

070’s chest tightened briefly, a flicker of emotion trying to surface. It allowed the feeling, briefly acknowledging the worry for its fellow drone, before setting it aside. “063 needs 070,” it murmured, the calm monotone of its drone voice steadying the swell of feeling. Emotion fueled the mission, not hindered it.

Reaching into the Hive link, 070 called for reinforcements. “This unit requires assistance,” it said, the words measured and deliberate. “Priority: High. Objective: Retrieval of 063. Likely location: Felix’s estate. Requesting support from 001 and 105.”

The response came swiftly.

“Understood,” came the smooth reply from 001, the ever-calculating drone formerly known as Percival. “001 will rendezvous at the estate.”

105’s voice followed, brimming with commanding energy. “Acknowledged. 105 will lead tactical extraction. Maintain focus. We’ll bring him back.”

070 straightened, feeling the comforting connection of its fellow drones strengthen through the link. It wasn’t alone in this. Together, they would ensure 063’s rescue.

As it waited for its fellow drone, the night air was cool against its polished uniform. Beneath the calm exterior, 070 felt the weight of its mission pressing in. The Pup wasn’t just another drone—he was a brother, part of the Hive, part of something larger. That connection, that unity, was worth fighting for.

3. The Heist

The moon’s pale light illuminated Felix’s estate, its beams reflecting off the stark white Porsche sitting in the driveway. The car’s pristine surface glowed like a cruel beacon, a twisted monument to Felix’s handiwork. 070 observed the scene from the shadows of the estate’s towering hedges, its polished rubber uniform blending into the darkness. The sight of the white car sent a pang through 070’s disciplined mind. Stripped of its golden essence, the car was barely recognizable as 063—Chevy. Yet, beneath the clinical focus of the Polo-Drone, there was a simmering determination. 070 wouldn’t leave without its brother.

“Perimeter secure,” 001’s calm voice came through the Hive link, his tone devoid of emotion yet resolute. “Minimal security detected. Proceed with caution.”

105 crouched near the main gate, his authoritative presence grounding the operation. “Extract quickly and efficiently. Felix must not interfere. Go.”

070 moved with silent precision, each step deliberate as it approached the driveway. The car loomed ahead, its stark white paint mocking the unity of the Hive, a blatant erasure of Chevy’s golden identity.

As 070 reached the vehicle, a flicker of light from the mansion’s upper windows caught its eye. Felix’s figure appeared, silhouetted against the glow of an opulent chandelier. His sharp features were illuminated as he gazed out into the night, his keen eyes sweeping the grounds. For a moment, their gazes locked. 070 stood still, unflinching, its calm demeanor concealing the surge of tension. Felix’s lips curled into a smirk, his interest piqued by the sleek figure near his creation.

“Well, well,” Felix murmured, stepping closer to the glass. “Who dares to trespass on my grounds?”

Without breaking its disciplined focus, 070 shifted into the shadows, the rubber of its uniform catching the faintest glimmer of moonlight. “Felix has seen me,” 070 transmitted through the Hive link, its voice steady. “Proceeding with increased caution.”

From his vantage point, Felix lingered at the window, his curiosity clear. “How intriguing,” he mused, stepping back from the glass. “Let’s see what game you’ve brought to my doorstep.”

Inside the car, 001 worked swiftly, disabling the tracking systems with mechanical precision. His hands moved with practiced efficiency, every motion measured. “Systems neutralized,” he reported. “Preparing for extraction.”

The faintest creak of a door opening broke the night’s quiet. 070’s head turned sharply, scanning the mansion for movement. Felix was coming.

“Stay on mission,” 105 ordered through the link, his tone firm. “070, provide cover. 001, finish the extraction.”

070’s senses sharpened as it took a defensive position near the driveway, its focus unwavering. From the mansion’s shadowed entrance, Felix emerged, his robes flowing behind him. His steps were slow, deliberate, his eyes gleaming with amusement.

The car rumbled faintly as its engine stirred, a weak response that made 070’s jaw tighten imperceptibly. Felix’s magic had not only stripped Chevy of his gold but had also dulled his very essence.

“Leaving so soon?” Felix called out, his voice carrying through the still air. “I thought you’d appreciate my craftsmanship.”

070 didn’t respond, its focus entirely on the mission. 105 slid into the driver’s seat and guided the car forward with calculated ease. “Move,” he commanded, his voice leaving no room for hesitation.

The car rolled down the driveway, its pristine white exterior catching the moonlight like a ghostly specter. 070 followed closely, its movements precise, scanning for any sign of pursuit.

On the mansion’s steps, Felix stood watching, his smirk widening. “Take him if you must,” he called after them, his voice dripping with mockery. “But the gold is gone now. And Chevy? He’s just a hollow shell. Be careful, little drone—if you mess with me, you might lose more than you bargained for.”

The words hit 070 like a blow, a faint flicker of unease rippling through its usually disciplined mind. It quelled the reaction swiftly, clinging to its purpose with unwavering focus. Emotion would not serve the Hive, not now. Still, Felix’s parting words lingered, a shadow on the edges of its thoughts.

“He won’t stop us,” 070 said quietly, its monotone voice steely with resolve. The mission came first, and 070 would not waver—not for fear, not for threats.

As the estate disappeared behind them, 070 allowed itself a single moment to reflect: Felix’s cruelty and ominous warning wouldn’t deter the Hive. The Hive was unity, and unity always prevailed. Every step was precise, every thought aligned. 070’s emotions drove it forward, channeled into unwavering purpose. For Chevy, for the Hive, and for unity—it would not fail.

_______

Original story from @sorcerer-felix here : https://www.tumblr.com/sorcerer-felix/765709583604908032/i-wanted-to-grant-his-wish-albeit-with-a-twist and special thanks to @chevy-gold, @polo-drone-001 and @polo-drone-105 who appear in the story.

[floridensis]

Miami Wilds would be bad for families and wildlife. Commission should hit the brakes

On Sept. 6, Miami-Dade County commissioners will vote on one of the worst projects they have considered in years. The Miami Wilds waterpark project is a taxpayer boondoggle that is as environmentally destructive as it is bad for Miami families — with a taxpayer price tag so high you would think it was a waterslide made of gold.

Bat Conservation International asks the commission to stand up against this deeply flawed project — and we are asking taxpayers to call their commissioners ahead of this critical vote to encourage them to not to rubber stamp something not in the interests of local residents and their families.

The Miami Wilds water park would be built in endangered species’ habitat next door to Zoo Miami. Millions in taxpayers dollars would subsidize a project that makes it more expensive to visit the zoo and jeopardizes one of the most important biodiversity hotspots in Miami-Dade County.

Bat Conservation International (BCI) has been working with our Miami-based staff and local partners for nearly 20 years to save the rarest and most endangered bat in the United States — the Florida bonneted bat — from extinction.

Zoo Miami is a biodiversity hotspot, hosting overlapping critical habitats for several federally endangered species and the largest fragment of pine rockland outside of Everglades National Park. Because the project’s location is an active study site for the Florida bonneted bat, we know conclusively that the area is not only currently occupied by the bats but is heavily used when the bats need to find food. The land proposed for development is a large, dark, open space, which is exactly what the night-flying Florida bonneted bats need to survive.

In the proposed location, the Miami Wilds offers inadequate financial return for the county, jeopardizes Miami’s unique natural environment and increases recreational costs to families visiting the zoo.

And the taxpayers of Miami-Dade County have an opportunity to stand up for Miami’s environment, economy and families by voicing their opinion before to the County Commission’s Sept. 6 meeting. Tell commissioners to put the brakes on Miami Wilds.

[thoughtsandbones]

Between your hands, I open

I saw @tacticalanklebiter3000 do a repost about softdom and my mind went straight to our beloved masked menace, but with a twist..

Content: 18+, P in the V (use a rubber folks), Soft!dom, F!Dom, sex, established situationship/relationship on the DL... profanity.

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x South Asian F!Reader ;)

(Although some OC mentioned from my on-going series)

All rights reserved to the rightful owners of Call of Duty Modern Warfare.

The Anchor was thriving tonight. Laughter and the clinks of glasses hung within the air. The outside beer garden was prospering, buzzes of conversations, then a roaring laughter overruled the conversations.

Soap had just won another drinking game against you, he threw his head back and pointed towards you. You roll your eyes at him and grasp your pint in your hand and drain it of its contents. The sticky heat of the evening started getting to you, from the reflection of your phone screen you could see droplets of sweat on your forehead.

Pressing your empty, yet still cold, glass to your forehead, you feel a little relief from the heat.

Looking up you see Soap badgering Gaz and Price, Peyton laughs at them, not wanting to have a go at a drinking game with him when he asks her. To next to Soap was Ghost, his blue eyes glued to you. Nodding at him, he nods back averting his gaze down to his bourbon.

How could he wear a mask and a hoodie in this heat you think

Staring at your empty glass, and then at your watch you think it's time to go home.

Ghost gazed upon you, parts of your hair stuck to the glistening skin of your chest. It was the first time he'd seen you wear a dress, especially how the pink colour made your tanned skin glow, the mix of sweat, heat and the perfume you wore was his own personal elixir of... he lifted his mask slightly and took a soup of the icy bourbon.

He snaps out of that trail of thought. He couldn't go back to that memory now. Here of all places. He glances back over to you and your eyes flick to meet his. Like magnets. Suddenly, your face changed as you looked at him, holding his gaze; eyes glazed with a sudden lust, biting of the lower lip. His eyes drifted back to your eyes, you flickered your lashes, coated with mascara, the once sharp eyeliner now blurred on your eyelid. The sudden wink you gave him was all he needed to know what awaited him.

"Gonna head home now" You say aloud, placing the glass back down on the table. You get up and leave and say your final goodbyes to everyone as you slip your jacket over your arm.

Grabbing a taxi home, you take out your phone, like it was second nature, you text Mine in 30 mins? you hit send, and seconds later your phone vibrated, a flutter in your chest as you read.

Course :)

Letting yourself in your flat, you rush to the shower, turning it on, the both the heat of the sun and the heat from your loins were scorching your skin. You strip yourself of your dress, underwear and enter the tub, the cold water cooling your brown skin. A sense of slight relief overcomes you.

After finishing the shower, you moisturise, fresh cotton lacy pale lilac underwear and a lilac lacy bra, grabbing your large t shirt and shorts.

There was a heavy knock on the door, you slip the shorts on and make way, opening it, revealing the lieutenant, his blue eyes, dart of your face. You smile and tilt your head

"Hey" slips out

"Hey again" Ghost replies, looking down at you, he was disappointed that the dress you wore was gone. You make way for him to enter.

"It's boilin' out there" He says walking in, taking off his hoodie, revealing his t-shirt, in black of course, patches soaked in sweat.

You walk over to him, lightly placing your hand in his shoulder, trailing your fingers to the skin of his upper arm, sweat coated between the blonde strands of hair.

"Want a cold shower?" You ask, lacing your fingers through his.

Ghost turns around and takes his mask off, revealing a sweaty red, yet clean shaven face, wreathed with various scars, you took little notice to those. His eyes coaxed yours.

"Cold bath?" He asks, widening his blue eyes coming closer to you, grabbing a strand of hair that was damp between his fingers "See you already had one withou' me" He smirks

You smile back "It was too hot out there" You reply, reaching for his hand that held the strand, and guiding him to the bathroom, he walks with no restraint.

Reaching over bath you seal it, and bring down the shower head. Turning the taps on so the cold water fills the tub. Simon strips down before you, and smiles as you check the water and place some bath soap in the tub, he marvelled at the way you instinctively grabbed the lotions of potions that will soothe him.

He then sits in the white porcelain tub, knees bent, his hands swaying in the water as the bubbles accumulate around him, he looks at you as you reach for your shampoo, and sinks his head back into your hands as your lather the shampoo in his hair with the shower head, closing his eyes so his senses can focus on the touch of your fingertips running between his hair, gently, massaging the flesh that forms a barrier to his own skull.

"Let me take care of you" You whisper in his ear, giving him a kiss on his cheek.

Simon hums as your fingers trail down his body, wiping away the built-up dirt and sweat, the cold water surrounding him bringing him comfort on this hot English day with a bamboo loofah.

He never knew someone could treat him with such care and tenderness. Your hands dance around his body, he follows your commands; just like you followed his.

When you ask him to get up, so you can dry him with a big towel you got just for him, he does so, there is no embarrassment or guilt, just comfort and trust for the first time in this exposed position.

You wrap the towel around his waist, he sits on the edge of the bath tub, he pulls you close and nips your neck, you smile as you look down at him, holding him close, arms draped over his broad muscular shoulders.

"Can you do the skin thing on my face" He mumbles, burying his head in your chest. You pull away slightly and lift his chin with your finger, and smile.

"What do you want me to do?" You ask, grinning slightly.

"I want you to put that fancy stuff on my face" He says, cheeks turning red. His arms wrapped around your waist, hands resting on your bum.

Smiling back, you nod and then start the same skincare routine you do on him, cleanse, tone and apply a sheet mask, a new look that makes you giggle.

"Think you should switch to this mask when in the field" You say, he scoffs slightly, and gives a light smack on your arse, the sensation moistening your clothed pudendum.

Once the routine was done, Simon drags you back to the bed, he tries to get you to go on the bed, but you spin round under his arms, and try and push him down. He smirks at the attempt and sits down, leaning back down on the bed, legs planted on the floor, all done willingly for you. He watches as your top and shorts are taken off and climb on top of him. He moans and takes in the sight of you, his hands grazing the edges of your lingerie, the lilac bra enhancing the golden brown skin. His rough hands linger across the flesh of your bum and down your thigh back, dragging his nails deeper into your tissue back up to the waistband of your underwear.

"Tell me what you want Simon" You say kissing his chest, making your way up to his lips, locking eyes.

Your hair is scattered around his face, you were millimetres apart. He wasn't sure what you meant, you were what he wants, he has you right now on top of him. You look deep into his ocean blue eyes, and then down his face, scattered are scars of all kinds, you kiss each one.

"You" He rasps, hoping that'll satisfy.

You move away, sitting up, but planting yourself on his crotch, where nothing but a towel covered him.

"Tell me specifically what you want me to do Simon" You say looking at him, smiling, running your fingers up and down his chest.

"Kiss me" He whispers, closing his eyes, longing for your lips on his mouth again.

You oblige, but you reach down where the towel was held together, untying it, moving down, and start kissing his inner thighs.

Simon groaned, his hands finding your head, now it was his chance to run his fingers through your hair, his nails grazing the scalp. His hardened cock twitches at your touch.

Kissing the flesh covering his pelvic bone, you start nibbling at the skin, leaving small little red marks in your path as you go across his body. Your hands trail the muscles of his torso, and his arms. He shudders beneath you as you run your tongue down the indents of his muscles and scars.

Making your way back to his mouth, you take off your underwear, now too wet, and sit on top of his heavy cock, the flesh and bone grinding against each other. Simon groans in pleasure.

You kiss the skin, the scars, the parts of him he hides. This was your way of telling him he shouldn't be ashamed.

"You're teasin' me" He groans, as he tried to move his hand to his cock to put it in you, but you grab his hand and pull it back near his head. You move up to his face, and grin whilst holding his arm down, you gaze at the tattoos adorned on his lower arm, skulls, bullets, bombs; chaotic remnants of war.

"Good" You say smugly and start kissing his cheeks, and down his neck, using your teeth gently as you bite away at him. Grinding harder against his hard member, lathered in your juices.

Simon groans louder, with his other free hand he gives you another light smack on the arse, you laugh into his chest and then move his nipples, biting down harder this time. In your procession of masticated flesh, the tiny capillaries burst in a deep red colour down Simon's waist and across his abs.

"Sit up for me" You say and Simon does so, you motion to the headboard of the bed. You climb on top, and position yourself, sliding onto his huge cock.

"Ahhhhhh fuck" Simon moans as you go down and up slowly. He watches you, his hands clasping the small of your back. He feels you clench his member, moving up and down slowly. He noticed you were still wearing that pretty lilac bra.

Bet it would look better on the floor he thinks to himself, kissing the skin of your chest. He watches as you moan softly, bouncing gently on him.

"Bite me harder" You say, moving closer to him, your breasts practically touching his cheeks. He removed the bra, freeing the breasts, he grasps them gently in his hands as he suckles on skin near the nipples. You moan deeply. He moves to bite your nipples, and leaves red marks around the flesh of your breasts.

Whilst on top, you change the motion of your hips, from up and down, to round in circles, clockwise and anti-clockwise, Simon moans against your chest and pulls you in tighter. He tries to move up and down into you but you tell him to stop, you're in charge this time.

He slowly let's himself go, your hands cradle his head, he looks up at you and then down to the breasts that begin to bounce as you slightly increase in speed, you kiss his forehead. Fingers running through his damp blonde hair, slicking it back.

Simon bites down on your neck, digging his finger nails into your flesh as your speed up.

"Feel good?" You moan softly

"Course love" Simon says against your skin, and looks up at you. You smile down at him. He turns his head back between your breasts.

He felt the pleasure build up within him, he felt like he was going to burst at the rate your were going. But suddenly, as though you sensed it, you stop. He looks up astonished.

You laugh and smile, kissing his lips, the salty sweat dancing on your tastebuds.

"Lay down for me Simon" You say, and he does so, you still on top, he shimmies down the bed. Sweat clings to his skin. You move your hips, back and forth, engaging your core as you slowly move. Simon rests his hands on your hips, the pleasure building again, he felt his body tremble with lust and desire, he watched as your abs flexed and breasts bounce.

"God you're so handsome" You say, tracing your hands over his body and to hip face, especially his Adonis belts, adorned with two long scars and a gun shot.

Simon scoffs and rolls his eyes, you take note, and slow down to stop, he watches as you lean over and kiss his lips again.

"You. Are. So. Handsome." You again, kissing him between each word. His blue eyes look back into yours, he grips on your hips tighten as he tried to make you start moving again, his hips thrusting into you.

"You're so handsome and cool" You say, smiling. Leaning back you start moving.

"Drivin' me insane here" He says massaging your breasts, tugging at your nipples. You moan aloud. He loves how you take your time, commanding both his and yours pleasure, your words and touch making him feel loved.

Suddenly, he cums, inside you, without warning, he feels an electric ripple go through him as his cock pulsates inside you.

"Finally came? You say kissing his cheeks and lips.

"Yeah" He says gasping, his body vibrating with satisfaction, you stroke his cheek and kiss him. Simon holds you in tight and looks up to you, words struggle to come out as he opens and closes his mouth.

"Simon, you are so amazing and desirable" You say beaming at him. With all his final strength he rolls you over and kisses you deeply as he thrusts his buzzing member deeper within your portal. Slowly coming out of you, he watches as you lay there stroking his arms.

"Let me clean you up love" He says, bring you close to him, you get up with him, legs feeling like jelly, stumbling slightly, Simon steadies you.

"You took out it me and you" He mumbles, kissing your neck, taking you to the bathroom, you laugh lightly. Although his legs, no, his body was tingling, and he wanted nothing more to lay back down, it was his turn to care for you. You finally opened him up.

Simon carried you back to the bed, fresh underwear, no bra under spare t-shirt of his, he laid beside you, wearing his boxers, the bare skin of his chest glowing from the sweat, he grabbed his phone and put some music on. You sit up, look down on him, he brings his hands to your face, grasping at the nape of your neck, pulling you in close.

He kisses you and strokes your lower back as you rest on top. After some time, you had fallen asleep across his chest. Simon ran his fingers through your hair. He felt his eyelids become heavy. Closing his eyes he allowed himself to drift off with you in this moment.

He didn't care if the world ended right now, because the only person he cared for in the entire world was here, resting on his chest. It was with you he finally bloomed.

[theperfectquestion]

ARE YOU THERE, GOD? IT'S ME, DEAN

The Venture Bros. approach to God Almighty is in line with its approach to all authority: one more rubber mask on one more old weirdo.

A revelation hit me during a recent rewatch of adult swim's long-running animated pastiche of adventure fiction, The Venture Bros. It is such a large scale Biblical relevation that I can't believe I didn't notice it before: Yahweh, the Lord of the Old Testament, is a recurring minor character, voiced by Archer and Bob Burger's H. Jon Benjamin.

For the uninitiated, one of the supporting players in The Venture Bros. is Doctor Orpheus, who rents rooms from Doc 'Rusty' Venture, the father of the titular twins. Doctor Orpheus is one of my favourite characters in the show, because he is a protagonist of a whole other pulp fiction genre who is comfortable being a secondary character in the world of The Venture Bros.

Orpheus is a mix of Doctor Strange any number of Christopher Lee's characters from Hammer Horror films. He looks like Vincent Price in those occasions when he is being chummy with Kermit the Frog. And this Sorceror Supreme, who guards the very fabric of reality from unfathomable peril, who commands his own super-team with its own villains and long-term plots, serves the sitcom role of kindly but wacky neighbour, and the father of young Dean Venture's hopeless love interest, Triana.

A brilliant recurring joke is that, although magic is definitely real in the universe of The Venture Bros., and that Doctor Orpheus unquestionably has talents that bring the entire nature of reality into question, Doc Venture refuses to acknowledge or respect magic. As a former boy adventurer, he has seen so many supernatural threats pulled out from under their rubber masks that, as an adult, he simply doesn't waste a microsecond of his time considering magic as anything other than a cheap trick. Doctor Orpheus is often torn between defefending his professional pride and placating his often unkind landlord.

There's a lot to Doctor Orpheus, but the aspect I'd like to focus on is the fact that he regularly visits an extradimensional entity in his daughter's closet. Orpheus' command of spatial dimensions is dealt with matter-of-factly: his rooms are physically located elsewhere, and the abandoned arachnid research centre he rents on the Venture property is just a convenient place to warp space so that he can access them from Colorado. You see, Doctor Orpheus is recently divorced, and retains full custody of his teenage daughter, Triana. One has to read between the lines here, but presumably the Venture Compound is close to where Triana's mother has moved, and this extradimensional trick is a way for Triana to be able to visit her mother while being legally resident at his address. The fact that this is treated so casually is a joke in itself, and is another Definitely Magical thing that Rusty completely ignores, though there may be some connection between Doctor Orpheus' rooms and the reason why Rusty, who is a notoriously workshy and light-fingered kind of super-scientist, is able to produce the world's first functional teleporter later on in the series.

So with all this malarky being commonplace, it is only a small elaboration to say that, within Doctor Orpheus' house, there is a portal to another dimension. But due to some magical snarl he can't straighten out, the portal is located inside his daughter's wardrobe. Orpheus goes inside the closet to talk to the Master.

The Master, all all-knowing, shape-shifting entity who lives beyond time and space and who mentors Doctor Orpheus in the magical arts (though, in practice, we see him act more of a life coach), is presented without ceremony or occasion. Even his flat voice which, as mentioned, is from the proudly rangeless but reliably hilarious mouth of H. Jon Benjamin, undercuts the enormity of his presence. The Master seems to spend most of his mental energy coming up with live-action productions of custom Aesop's Fables for Orpheus using his shape-shifting abilities and, occasionally, a put-upon assistant. These morality plays seem to always, by accident or design, lead to the Master getting his rocks off in some way or another. The Master's horniness seem to cast him in the mold of a Tibetan vajrācārya - after all, if Orpheus is Doctor Strange, then the Master is his Ancient One, who is vaguely Tibetan in origin. The joke is that rather than being enigmatic, the Master blurts out the morals and meanings of his koans almost immediately. But then in the Season 4 episode, 'The Better Man,' the Master shows that he may have origins further West.

So in that episode Triana, Doctor Orpheus' daughter, enters her closet and unexpectedly encounters the Master. We have established before that only Orpheus can enter the Master's realm. The Master of course was expecting her and has assumed a form to deliver a parable. In the form of an adult Dean Venture, the Master reveals that Dean is an artificially produced clone, insists that his genes are therefore polluted, and expresses profound disgust at the fact that Dean is uncircumcised. He outright tells Triana to leave the Venture Compound to live with her mother and claim her birthright as her mother's pupil.

To me, all this feels very unlike something a Tibetan Tantric Master would say. All this talk of bloodlines, foreskins and abominations makes me suspect that the Master is actually Yahweh, the God of the Old Testament, in one of his burning bush moods. Now, in any other show, the existence of God Almighty living in a character's wardrobe might be more of a big deal. You could certainly build an entire series around that exact premise. But it is perfectly consistent for The Venture Bros. to present the ultimate authority of the Universe as a funny side character who appears in four episodes and has only a small bearing on the plot. That's all in a day's work for The Venture Bros., a show that shares Rusty's deep-rooted skepticism of any and all authority figures and the structures that support them.

For example, we meet the President of the United States on one occasion and he is a crass, childish buffoon who spouts out reheated Clinton jokes. That's fairly run-of-the-mill, but the secret agent characters of The Venture Bros. often invoke the Secret President. We never meet Secret President, and the character who is most likely to have encountered them in person, General Timothy Treister, talks about Secret President in the tone of voice a 13 year old would use to brag about their girlfriend in Canada. As it is, we're given no reason why there should be a Secret President or what function they serve, except to give spies something to brag about. In the United States of The Venture Bros., the fake President is an idiot and the real President doesn't do anything.

The pattern repeats: the diabolical Guild of Calamitous Intent, which dominates the world of professional villany, is governed by a board of shadowy figures who, once we get to know them, are all either has-beens or senile and I've of them is literally a clown. Their leader, The Sovereign, appears either as an intimidating floating head like The Wizard of Oz or as David Bowie, though we learn later he is just a shapeshifter who takes the form of David Bowie because he wants to be cool. The Guild goes through a few changes of management throughout the series, but it doesn't really matter who is at the top - the whole operation is run by two admin goofuses who are perfectly content to prop up a desk and pee in bottles.

Even when we meet the Illuminati, the chosen powerful few who work behind the scenes to keep the torch of civilisation alive by managing technological progress, they turn out to be a VR simulation designed to allow intelligence agencies to hoard the best gizmos for themselves.

When Doctor Orpheus detects the presence of a malicious evil so great that he nearly suffers a panic attack - Doctor Orpheus, who routinely travels to Hell and back without too much trouble - an unholy entity that turns out to be a vintage AI built by Rusty's father, this unspeakable Satan is easily distracted by a roll of old videotape projected onto her camera.

This is a world where it is rubber masks all the way down. Anybody who presents themselves as an authority is invariably mistaken. Doomsday devices are easily defused, or revealed to have never been anything of the sort. Secret are kept by braggarts, heroes are hollow, crowns are held by those who couldn't find a chair when the music stopped, and power is a ball that is always fumbled. So why wouldn't God Almighty live in a teenager's closet, licking his balls, obsessing over foreskins, while the world muddled along without Him?

[cost-masters]

Reasons Why Natural Rubber Prices are Increasing?

Discover the factors driving the rise in natural rubber prices. Explore the key reasons behind the increasing natural rubber prices. Learn about supply chain disruptions, growing demand, and other factors influencing the market.