#today rubber price

[cost-masters]

Track Rubber Price Today | Kottayam, Assam | Rubber Price Trend

Are you a rubber producer, trader, or manufacturer looking to stay ahead of the curve?

CostMasters offers you real-time access to the latest RSS4 rubber price trends in Kottayam and Assam. Our platform provides you with the critical insights you need to make informed decisions and optimize your business operations.

Why Choose CostMasters?

Real-Time Price Updates: Stay updated with the latest rubber price fluctuations in Kottayam and Assam.

Historical Data Analysis: Gain valuable insights into historical price trends to identify patterns and make informed forecasts.

Market News and Analysis: Stay informed about the latest market news, economic indicators, and industry trends that impact rubber prices.

User-Friendly Interface: Our intuitive platform makes it easy to track and analyze rubber price data.

Accurate and Reliable Data: We source data from trusted sources to ensure the accuracy and reliability of our information.

How to Use Our Platform:

Sign Up: Create a free account on our platform.

Explore Data: Access real-time and historical rubber price data for Kottayam and Assam.

Analyze Trends: Use our powerful analytics tools to identify patterns and trends.

Make Informed Decisions: Utilize the insights gained to optimize your buying, selling, and production strategies.

Take Control of Your Business with CostMasters.

Sign Up Today and Start Tracking Rubber Prices!

[potatoesandsunshine]

now if i had some stamps... i'd be unstoppable

[sacramentohistorymuseum]

August 21st is National Senior Citizens Day! First observed in 1988, Senior Citizens Day is intended to raise awareness of the factors and issues that affect older adults.

For today, Howard prepared something in our print shop exhibit that he thought was fitting. This photo engraving selected is of Howard operating our Chandler & Price jobbing press with the text “HOWARD POWERED” below.

The artwork was made by our staff member, Shawn. That artwork was sent to OWOSSO Graphic Arts in Owosso, Michigan where the photo engraving was designed. This was printed with green rubber base ink using our Washington hand press.

[dostoyevsky-official]

this a view of someone who's ignored european developments since 2007, opting for a rosy, outdated view of european politics, i.e. the exact type of american committing the exact type of mistake i'm warning about.

to address this point by point: not only has inflation been a global issue, but the US has consistently enjoyed the lowest inflation of any developed economy. american CPI has remained below the british, polish, and eurozone average numbers. european economies have to deal with fallout from the russian invasion of ukraine that the us can ignore: notably, in energy prices, as the US became self-sufficient in energy (and never imported any from russia to begin with, something squeezing the german economy). america is also not hosting millions of ukrainian refugees.

when discussing european instutions—and "europe" in general—one has to be more specific. do you mean the overarching institutions of the EU, criticized for a democratic deficit that many have pinpointed as one source for euro-skepticism and the rise of the far right? the EU Council, widely ignored and headed by charles michel, an incompetent, blatant nepobaby appointment whom everyone grinds their teeth over? the EU parliament, recently filled with a fresh batch of far-right hooligans, which functions more or less as a rubber stamp for the commission? the EU commission itself, headed by VdL, the latest in a string of failed local politician commissioners (who remembers the alcoholic swindler juncker?) masquerading as technocrats? the ECB, which smothers the monetary (and through the maastricht criteria, the fiscal) policy of eurozone members, thereby fueling resentment, far-right movements, and economic disparity? and all of this held hostage by the veto of one orban or fico, —or the german supreme court, when it decides it's had enough with public investment. those institutions, which remain so opaque that even educated americans—and europeans—aren't entirely aware of their function?

or do we mean the institutions of individual countries, ranging from undemocratic autocracies like hungary to the fief of the jupiter king, who called elections in june, lost them, refused to nominate a prime minister from the winning coalition, didn't name any for over a month, and then appointed a rightwing politician from a party that scored dead last, sidestepping his own centrist party? the UK, where sir keir is handing out five years in jail time to climate protesters, raising tuition fees, relying on private investment companies, and through rachel reeves' plan to fix the alleged budget hole left by hunt before further investment, again enacting austerity? this is all front-page headline news from the last half year.

european countries indeed have cheaper healthcare costs, better pensions, and other public goods that the united states does not. when considering "quality of life," remember, however, that most european countries have unemployment rates considered astronomic in america, especially for under-35s:

to focus again and again on european social democracy is to ignore that it has been steadily eroded since the end of the cold war and especially since the great recession by neoliberal political forces that crush the left and open the door for the far right. in the most blatant example, beside's macron's legislative politricks, the IMF-ECB-EC troika cut off euro cash liquidity flow to greece when syriza was trying to undo austerity under varoufakis. the greek collapse consigned a generation to economic failure, killed seniors, and curtailed possibilities for the youth. this erosion happened even in the nordic model, long imagined by americans as nothing short of a utopia:

In part due to the scrapping of wealth and inheritance taxes and a lower corporate tax than both the U.S. and European averages, Sweden has one of the most unequal distributions of wealth in the world today: on a level with Bahrain and Oman, and worse than the United States. Perhaps most dispiriting for Sanders, Sweden also now hosts the highest proportion of billionaires per capita in the world. Many of the country’s trademark social services are now provided by private firms. Its private schools even benefit from the same level of state subsidy as public schools—a voucher system far more radical than anything in the United States and that Democratic politicians would be crucified for advocating. Both here and there, right-leaning commentators in 2020 decried Sanders’s portrait as little more than what Johan Norberg, Swedish author of The Capitalist Manifesto, has called a 1970s “pipedream.” On this, Swedish observers on the left gloomily agree: despite official rhetoric, the “Nordic welfare model” is now more nostalgic myth than reality. (x)

to problematize further, there's an unadressed first world perspective: who's getting the good quality of life, why are the main economies of the EU so wealthy, and how does the EU continue to enrich itself? there are certainly many living outdoors today, drowning in the mediterranean, or dying of exposure in białowieża. fortress europe is a crime against humanity—and it doesn't beat back the far right. it weakens civic and human rights, undermines legal oversight, and criminalizes humanitarian engagement, allowing an authoritarian creep.

you shouldn't understand the political and the historical as a snapshot in time, but as a moving train. this is the state of europe today. all of the above is necessarily a simplification and an abbreviation, but there's a trajectory you can begin to trace out: given all of the above, where do you think europe is headed?

[gnocchibabie]

Target Practice

author's note: this is my first piece of writing I have ever put out into the world hahah ok bye <3

“600 yards out,” Price’s sudden words almost break your focus “3 notches up, about two to the left accounting for the wind.” he instructs as you stare down the scope of your rifle, looking for the next target. They’ve been getting smaller and smaller as your training progressed and you were struggling to find this last one. Finally, your eyes land on the red balloon.

It smiled back at you.

“Cute,” you chuckle at the poorly drawn smiley face decorating your unfortunate target, “Is that your handiwork or Gaz’s?” 

“I don’t know what you mean,” Price responds coyly.

You scoff, lining up the shot. The happy balloon swung right and left, fighting against the wind that was now picking up. “Might wanna go three to the left, love” Price suggested. 

“Right,” you say, trying not to give much thought to the name - and how your captain had been using it more and more often. 

You’re finally satisfied with how you’ve lined up your shot. Three up, three left.

You squeeze your finger and feel the butt of the gun kick into your shoulder.

The bullet hits the ground a foot away from the balloon, kicking dust into the wind. The balloon smiles back at you, taunting your marksmanship. 

“Damn” you whisper. 

“S’alright” Price says. It’s not, you scold yourself and line up your shot again. He hears this thought. “Really Y/N, take your time.”

The balloon’s bobbing slows and you feel the wind calm. Readjusting your shot, you feel more confident this bullet will land right between its squiggly sharpie black eyes. The pad of your pointer finger rubs the cold trigger. 

Squeeze.

You see red rubber erupt and flitter off into the air, the wind once again picking up as if it had patiently waited for you to finish shooting the unsuspecting balloon in cold blood. “There you go, love - dropped ‘em!” you finally take your eyes away from the rifle and look at John, offering you a smile. “Or should I say “popped ‘em,” he jokes. Lame, you think to yourself; although you fight back a smile. You don’t miss the warmth that spreads throughout your chest, and fear it creeps into your cheeks. You shake your head, “Should’ve gotten it the first time,” you quip back and begin to stand. Rising, your legs ache from having been lying prone for so long.

Dismantling the rifle, you begin to return it to its case when you feel a hand land on your shoulder. 

Squeeze.

“That’s what practice is for.” your captain reassures you. You knew you were being hard on yourself - in reality you were a great shot. Your skills and potential as a sniper are what had led Laswell to pick up your file months before. She had observed you in action before recommending you to Price, adamant that you would be a great fit on the team and prove to be a useful asset. Amazingly to you, he seemed to agree. It’s why you were receiving this extra training, courtesy of Price himself. You were only embarrassed because you had missed in front of your captain. Who definitely did not make you nervous. 

“Yeah” you respond lamely, latching the case shut, throwing it over your shoulder, and turning to walk back to base. Price sighs, “Y/N.”

Oh no, you thought, he’s using his captain's voice.

You turn around to face him and your eyes meet. “What’s going on with you today? Been quiet. Been a bit off…” John trails off, unsure of how much he should say. “I know I was a little hard on you the other day-”

You cut him off before he can continue. The last thing you wanted was for him to believe that he had done something wrong - something to upset you. “No! No,” you respond quickly “you didn’t do anything - besides, I need to hear that stuff from you - during training. It’s what makes me better.” you see the corners of his mouth quirk up for a moment and you continue. “Sometimes…I just…wonder if I’m worthy of being on this team. I feel like I’m dragging behind. You’re all more experienced. You’ve all been doing this stuff longer…don’t wanna drag everyone down with me…” you finish your rant quietly. You don’t want to meet Price’s gaze and focus on a patch of dirt near your feet, convinced it’s suddenly become the most interesting thing in the world. His soft laughter breaks your concentration. 

“You need to get out of that head of yours love - you are not dragging us - me, down,” it is not lost on you how Price made it a point to emphasize himself. Maybe you really were in your head too much. Price continues, “We help you because we want to. Help you because we have been doing this longer. We know what you’re about to deal with on this mission and want you to be as ready and prepared as you can be. Can’t have anything happening to you can we?” He grows more stern at the end of his explanation and you can’t help the smile forming on your face. 

“Yeah, because I’m so valuable-”

“You are.”

Your laughter ceases and smile quickly leaves your face. Your eyes rake over Price’s face, serious as ever. Tension looms in the air over you two and your throat goes dry. “I mean it,” your captain doubles down. His eyes poured into yours. You were suddenly very aware of the flush spreading across your face and the way your mouth parted slightly at his words. “Understood,” you reply breathlessly, “...thank you, Captain.”

A beat of silence rings out between you two as you soak in each other’s words and stare into the other’s eyes.

“And don’t you forget it.” Price breaks the silence, his tone a bit more playful now as he takes the rifle case from your hands and begins down the path leading back to base. You jog after him, telling him you’re perfectly capable of carrying your own gun all while he chuckles. 

[dmitriene]

THOUGHTS ABOUT JOHN PRICE IN A ROBE.

cw: fluff, comfort, flirting, pet names, reader working in delivery, male anatomy, slighty smug price pairing: captain john price x fem reader

 ✎ 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵. 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘴. 𝘢𝘰3. ˑ༄

delivering is quite difficult in the morning, the point is not in the number of possible traffic jams, but in the fact that from the very morning you have to quickly bake a batch of delicious buns, brew aromatic coffee, pampering your nose with a deep aroma even after a certain amount on the road, and then load all this in a basket on a bicycle so you can sit down and open your morning with the first delivery to the neighborhood closest to your cafe.

the path is not long, but it’s enough to see your immediate surroundings, a scattering of freshly green trees, evenly trimmed bushes and updated fences around the houses that you have come thousands of times already, greeting those who caught your eye, high-fiving the little guys who often ran to the cafe for bread, and now they ran to school, calling you loudly as you passed by, exclaiming in one voice — «lady from the cafe, lady from the cafe!», little devils still can't remember your name.

after a few minutes of listening to the asphalt under the rubber wheels crunching with small pebbles, the bicycle brings you to a rather spacious house, a light facade and a small porch, an evenly trimmed lawn, but a slightly more empty area than when a large family lived here, a sweet woman with her husband and two wonderful children, meek, sweet guys, only they moved away.

the house was put up for sale again quite quickly, and bought again just as quickly, only you didn’t have time to see by who exactly, and didn’t even hear any discussions, but today was a great chance, especially considering that he turned to your cafe for the delivery of delicious baked goods in the morning, it means the person is not just good, but also open to meeting people, and besides, the house is big, probably another big family buyed it.

and you quickly realized that you were mistaken when you left the bike at a small fence, carefully walking inside and climbing the threshold, before knocking a couple of times, for a while you are met with silence, you don’t hear much outside the door, but very soon quite heavy steps are heard and you intuitively straighten up, holding a bag of pastries in one hand, and in the other a stand with two large cups of coffee, slightly moving away from the front door when its handle is lowered and it opens slightly inward, to the side.

— «good morning! thank you for your order and welcome to our neighbor.. hood..» your babble comes out before john can fully open the door, and to be honest it hits his ears quite hard in the morning, but you quickly fall silent as soon as you capture the rich picture in front of you.

the olive colored robe is casually opened, exposing a muscular, but slightly soft looking chest, covered with thick, moist dark hair, which makes the sight seem even more intimate when your gaze involuntarily descends lower, where a path of even darker hair goes to the navel, following the wet drops, forming a happy trail that disappears where the robe is still tied with a satin, thin strap, hiding more intimate things, while the awkward, but somehow ringing silence drags on for too long.

john is the first to interrupt her, clearing his throat loudly, without even trying to hide his smile, which makes the corners of his lips stretch and raise his mustache, which he touches, looking into your eyes with a slight tilt of his head while he leans his body on the door frame, crossing his strong arms on his chest, the same hairs, somewhere you can see pale, years healed scars, and the muscles that intuitively tense and bulge out his wide biceps, obscuring the view of his chest and forcing your gaze to finally switch to blue, piercing eyes, warming from the inside just like the honey baritone of his voice when he speaks — «well, good morning to you too, miss?»

you finally fully come to your senses, masking your embarrassment with a friendly, bright smile — an incredibly good quality that comes to you after years of work, when you hand him a bag of pastries and his coffee, and he changes his position, stepping through the threshold barefoot a little closer to you, taking the packages carefully, before opening them slightly and sniffing the smell with curiosity, emitting a satisfied, chesty growl, saying — «smells bloody good, not surprised that everyone recommended your pastries»

you light up in response to an unexpected compliment, feeling proud of your own work, rushing to thank him heartily, as if with childish enthusiasm — «thank you, sir!», while he turns around to put the packages on the cabinet near the entrance, taking his wallet from there, hearing your respectful address and grinning under his breath, amused before adding — «john price, darling»

— «thank you, mr.price, then? nice to meet you» you say just as respectfully, tenderly, when he lets out a satisfied grumble, rummaging for a while presumably in his wallet before turning back, beckoning you with two fingers closer while he counted the bills, and you obediently walk in response to the gesture, stopping literally near him as he steals a glance at you, squinting into another warm smile that lifts his facial hair before john holds out a few comfortably rolled bills and you notice that something is wrong.

your fingers briefly touch his casually, shooting something warm and electrical through his body when you take the money, exchange a smile, but before you can leave you notice that he went too far, or rather, overpaid, and the amount is pleasantly large even for a tip, so you awkwardly, slightly meekly notice — «uhm.. you overpaid, mr.price», receiving only a short laugh in response.

john is clearly amused by your misunderstanding, your naive reaction to what he did more than on purpose, causing the wrinkles around his eyes appear endlessly from his smiles, and the corners of his lips to stretch the skin, hiding behind a grayish mustache, when the blue gaze catches yours, slightly confused, and his voice, almost a gentle purr, calms you down by half a beat — «a tip for you, darling»

you gasp, lips parting in an «o» shape as you giggle awkwardly, adding sheepishly — «o-oh! it's just.. the biggest tip i seen, so i thought.. thank you» before getting ready to leave, after all, the working day is just beginning, and there are a lot of orders ahead, despite the fact that you wouldn’t mind talking longer, take a longer look on him, even?

he just waves his hand slightly, brushing the situation off again from the pure amusement, before adding unexpectedly, so much so that the blush on your cheeks cannot be calmed down and it grows over your ears and neck, not avoiding his gaze, but he pretends not to notice, keeping silent about the amount of scarlet paint on your face, burning, exactly like the compliment he said so simply, even as if flirting — «that's for your pretty eyes)»

and you don’t have time to utter a word or an embarrassed squeak before he nods and, with a fleeting wink, goes back into the house, disappearing behind the threshold and the closing wooden door, closing it with a slight click that pulls you out of embarrassment, letting you sigh raggedly and absolutely discouraged, before rubbing your cheeks with the palms, as if trying to disperse the color, and finally unsticking yourself from the place, walking back to your bike, so far that there is only one thought in your head, an immodest desire — to see his playful smile, meet him again, and maybe… invite him for tea?

[cod-dump]

Try not to laugh: COD addition

___

Round 2: Soap

___

Soap: I ain’t scared! You guys better give it your all!

Soap: *aggressively sips water*

Gaz: *walks on stage where a white coat*

Soap: *raises an eyebrow*

Gaz: *pulls out rubber gloves and puts them on. He snaps one and makes eye contact with Soap*

Gaz: Time for your prostate examine. Bend over

Soap: *spits his water out* FUCK

Gaz: Heh heh— *skips off stage*

Ghost: You’re right, he would’ve reacted differently if I did it

Soap: wait HOLD UP—

___

Soap: *bobbing his head to whatever song he’s thinking of, sipping water*

Ghost, backstage: I can’t touch him?

Price: No, you can say and do anything as long as you’re not touching him

Ghost: Damn, there goes the lap dance

Soap: *spits out his water*

Soap: CAN WE CHANGE THE RULES?!

Price: Sorry, son. Ghost’s turn is up

Soap: FUCK—

Gaz: Bro didn’t even have to go out there—

___

Soap: I have been robbed today. ROBBED

Soap: *solemnly sips his water*

Price: *walks out on stage. He stands next to Soap, looking like he’s trying to figure out what to say*

Soap: *eyes him suspiciously*

Price: So… wanna hear about the time I smoked oregano thinking it was weed?

Soap: *spits his water out* WHAT?!

Gaz: HOLD UP—

Ghost: OREGANO?

Price: Sorry, Soap already lost. Another time— *runs off stage*

*Gaz and Ghost run across the stage after Price, Soap jumping off the stool and joining them*

[opencommunion]

On October 11th the occupation cut off electricity and water from many of the prisons where it incarcerates Palestinians, including children, often without trial or charge, while denying them legal representation. Long before October 7th the occupation tortured Palestinians in these prisons — again, including children — on top of the inhumane conditions that are torturous in themselves. The conditions are getting worse every day, and every day the occupation is abducting dozens or hundreds of Palestinians from the West Bank and occupied interior. The number of abductions since October 7th has reached 1000. The number of abductions since January 1st has exceeded 6000. 25% are minors, disabled, sick, or elderly, and sick prisoners are being denied medical care. Additionally, after forcibly transferring 18,000 Gazan workers to the West Bank, the occupation is now rounding up these same workers and detaining them in existing prisons or new camps, giving the excuse that "it is not possible for them to return to Gaza." The Palestinian Prisoners' and Ex-Prisoners' Affairs Commision estimates, based on occupation reports, that 4000 people are trapped in these camps. In their nightly raids, the occupation targets Palestinian journalists, activists, and representatives of the Palestinian Legislative Council. They also abduct the family members of targets to pressure those targets to surrender themselves. During these raids Palestinians are beaten, teargassed, and shot with rubber and live bullets. Then they are dragged to prisons where conditions are worse than ever. Today, October 20th, Qadura Fares, head of the Prisoners' and Ex-Prisoners' Affairs Commission, wrote:

"Developments in the scene inside the occupation prisons compel us to expose the injustices committed against the prisoners. Many prisoners have had their limbs, legs, and hands broken, and after the beatings, their comrades could no longer recognize them. The Naqab prison has become like Abu Ghraib prison, a center of brutality and savage treatment towards the heroic prisoners. 'Israel' is making the Palestinian prisoners pay the price for its failures, acting solely with a spirit of revenge. We call upon all the countries of the world to raise your voices in support of the principles you claim to uphold, or have you returned to your history as colonial powers?"

In short, in the past two weeks the occupation has: - Made the already brutal conditions in their prisons deadly - Created new camps where they trap displaced Gazans - Doubled the total number of detained Palestinians - Kidnapped numerous Palestinian journalists, activists, and elected officials

Given the occupation's practice of "administrative detention," occupation prisons have arguably met the definition of concentration camps for decades, and now detained Palestinians are being deprived of basic survival necessities. I do not know how to describe these facilities except as death camps. A regime does not need to build death camps in order to qualify as genocidal, and the Zionist occupation has been committing genocide by various means for 75 years. That being said, these are death camps or are on the verge of becoming death camps, and I don't think we have time to waste being squeamish about applying that terminology.

Please follow RNN Prisoners to stay informed about what Palestinian detainees are facing.

[rebirthgarments]

Bidding closes for disabled 🍉mom Nara’s auction Tomorrow, July 5th at 9pm central time!

We had so much fun at the virtual pool party and wanted to keep the fun going! So, tomorrow, July 5th from 1-4pm Central time, I will be joining @drdemonprince and Madeline testdevice on “The Time Theft Today” weekly Twitch stream to talk about Nara and her auction for a little home shopping network moment!

Get tickets, dough-nate, and bid on 66 amazing items at givebutter.com/c/naraparty

Time Theft Today is a weekly round-up of discourse, neurodiversity, mad pride, liberationist leftism and social media ephemera hosted by Madeline @Testdevice_ and Devon Price! We will also be hanging out while Dr. Devon does some silly interactive polls and we play around with Madeline’s .jpg dollhouse!

Event is free, but feel free to buy a sliding scale ticket since 100% goes to Nara and her family!

go to twitch.tv/drdevonprice to watch the live stream!

This photo features a bunch of examples of protest banners to inspire you when thinking about the custom vinyl protest banner that you can win at the auction! The bid for a custom banner is currently at $43!

[Image Description: a selfie of Sky wearing a watermelon free the armpit biketard, their pink scalemaille headpiece and pink queercrip earrings in xyr bathtub with vinyl banners decorating the walls for the virtual pool party. On the edge of the bath is rubber ducky shaped pop it stim toy!

Banners photographed include:

-a black holographic rectangle with pink holographic letters that says “We are Immunocompromised, Masks are Community Care”.

-A holographic gonfalon shaped banner that says “Queercrips for Pal-eh-stime” with a flag queer crip symbol in the center,

-A large Pal-eh-stimeian flag with a heart where the red triangle usually is

-A holographic gonfalon shaped banner that says “Land Back” in red letters with a small version of flag mentioned above, above it.

-A yellow irregularly shaped banner with the words “Radical Visibility” in pink letters.]

[cost-masters]

Rubber Price Per Kg in Assam Today: Latest Update

Monitor rubber prices in Assam with CostMasters. Access historical data, price charts, and market analysis to make informed decisions.

[tuninghearts]

Lucifer invites Alastor to his room in the hotel. Alastor complies, for what else can he do while he was stuck in a deal with His Majesty?

Radioapple Week - Day 4

Prompt: Drinking/Bonding

“Come, Alastor, you have fixed me up, it’s only right for me to pay back the favour.” Lucifer smiles, as he glances down at his hands. The cloth, streaks of golden blood now forever staining its ragged appearance, was thrown to the side. Lucifer was blossoming in front of Alastor, and he was worried of the next word that fell from his mouth, either feather-like or tumbling down like crushing boulders. He didn’t want to ruin him, make him wilt all because he was blocking the sun.

“I’m good, don’t worry.” Alastor shakes his head at the offer. The staff being fixed was enough for the price that he thought Lucifer needed to pay.

“Oh, come on, we have only started today.”

“It’s late in the evening, and night is trailing just behind.”

“But that doesn’t mean we can’t spend it together, can we? This place smells of blood and death, let’s head back to my room, take a drink or two, shall we?”

“Are you serious?” Alastor’s eyebrows furrowed, pinched together, almost straining his facial muscles. “You better not make me sleep in your bed again.”

“No guarantee,” he teased, but when he sees Alastor’s expression unchanged, still as firm and rigid as how it was before, Lucifer says, “Okay, okay. No sleeping in my bed.”

“And not vice versa, either. I don’t want you in my room.”

“Got it. Okay, let’s get out of here, can we? I’m starting to sweat.”

The trapdoor swung open with a bang, and they climbed down. Alastor pondered over whether or not the trapdoor was cracked due to Lucifer’s unneeded immense force when we pushed the trapdoor aside.

~

“Welcome to my room,” Lucifer smiles, as his arms shoot up in a welcoming gesture. “Excuse the number of ducks, I’ve yet to transport them back to my own house.”

“Why do you have so many?” Alastor asks.

“I keep them as friends, they’re nice to have. Oh, and, did you know they were originally meant to be a chew toy? That’s funny, because I chew on one of them all the time. Stress relief, nothing much.” The rubber duck on the table next to the bed was picked with slender fingers. He placed its tail in its mouth, biting it down with jagged teeth. It was left with a couple of bite marks which glitter underneath the fluorescent lights of his room and there were more trailing downwards from where he initially bit into, past marks of hardship. “It’s not bad, I’d be dead if it ever broke, but I made it out of good material so it shouldn’t break… easily. Oh, and these aren’t actually made of rubber, they're made of plastic.”

Alastor nodded along to his every word, even though not a single word was understandable because he wasn’t interested in rubber ducks to the extent that Lucifer was, but was happy to listen to him talk so fondly about how he makes them, what purpose do each of them serve, and more—a script he had memorised in his head and was more than willing to share to anyone who piqued their interest in his creations.

After some time, Lucifer turns around and asks, “Sorry, was that too much? Am I boring you? I’m probably boring you. What was I—oh yeah, the alcohol. I keep a couple of bottles in the bottom drawer.” He pulls out one of them, liquid filled half-way. When Alastor tips himself lower to see the other bottle, he finds one of them empty.

“Have you had other guests over?” The question that Alastor asks makes Lucifer turn around to him.

“I have not. Why?” He inquires.

“One of the bottles is empty. Have you had other people finish it with you?”

His face tilts to the floor. He’s gloomy, eyes unable to meet him. Speechless. Quiet. The fist that holds the bottle is tightened, and Alastor was worried cracks would form underneath his grasp, liquid overflowing everywhere, or that the pain from healing wounds would be too much for him to bear, and the bottle would drop to the floor, screaming as a puddle of dejection would spread across the floor. “I’m not answering that question.”

“Of course, I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t apologise. Come on, I’ll pour you a glass.”

“Let me. Your hands need a rest.” Alastor picks the bottle from his hand, and gestures for Lucifer to sit on the bed.

He does so, and the bed creaks slightly, the blanket underneath him ruffling. “The glasses are behind the bottle, by the way,” he says. His voice is soft, forcing itself out. Alastor resisted the urge to envelop him at the moment, make him feel the perfume of flowers underneath the tip of his nose.

When he pulls the glasses out from behind the cupboard, Lucifer smiles ever so slightly, and Alastor feels his soul brighten with joy. “Wine? How classic.” Alastor jokes, hoping to tug that smile upwards a little more. It works, he’s got Lucifer grinning, while he pours him a glass first and hands it to him, before he pours a glass for himself.

When he sits next to Lucifer on the bed, he couldn’t help but notice the sparkle in his eyes. It dances and glimmers, it flickers with admiration, it tugs at his heart in the best way possible. The chaos that fires within him was drunk away, as he wants to live in the moment with Lucifer, stay in endless conversations with him. Neither seemed to mind the spillage of the wine on either of their suits, as they laughed and bickered as if they had known each other since life.

“I’m tired, Alastor yawns, and puts his glass on the tabletop.

“Let’s get you to your room,” Lucifer chuckles, a drunk mess—his words were slurring. “No sleeping in my bed, remember?”

A part of him chokes on regret. He wants to feel Lucifer next to him, like the night before. Curled up in his sheets, even if they aren’t touching each other, but his presence was enough to comfort him through nightmares. “I want to stay with you,” he blurts out, a thought that was never meant to make it past his razor-sharp teeth or his once filtered tongue.

“This is the drunk Alastor I’m talking to.” Lucifer stands on his two feet, wobbling. “Come on, to your room.”

“Okay, fine,” Alastor sighs, and stands too.

“Aren’t you going to go and mix with your shadow to go back to your room or something?”

“I want you to take me back.” Another sentence that he has muttered into the air, when he was too drunk to watch what he says, and he can’t ever take it back.

“You’re really drunk, jeez,” Lucifer laughs, as he offers Alastor his hand. When they slide together, a reminder of how Lucifer's hand first felt in his from the night before, the door was opened, and they stumbled back to Alastor’s room. --- 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

[useless-prophet]

GUESS WHO GOT THEIR STORMLIGHT BOX TODAY?

Beware Canadians between the conversion to CAD and duties it totals to around $150! But I expected the high price and shipping was very fast, around 3 days. Review of stuff inside:

The Syl pin is adorable, and the colors turned out really well! It is a rubber backing though so it might not be as secure since there is no screw or latch mechanism.

The Oathbringer sword is larger than I expected - around the size of my palm and with a decent bit of weight to it. It is not that sharp for safety reasons, I assume, but a cool sword if not a bit big for a keychain.

Haven’t opened the air fresheners yet so I don’t actually know if they smell good, but the art is gorgeous and each one is individually sealed with a little loop to hang it by!

The bag is so. Soft. I know it’s synthetic leather but the texture is so soft and nice to feel! The tan color is a little drab but it looks pretty cute overall. On the smaller side and looks like it’s meant to be a shoulder bag (though I think there are straps on the back to turn it into a tiny backpack) and a lot of pockets (6+?) of various sizes.

Pretty satisfied so far and excited to get to use it!

[coline7373]

Alright.

I'm on a streak about the anachronism of condom in Amestris.

Hear me out.

Rubber condom date from the 19th century. They came from rubber cast into cement molds.

It wasn't until around 1920 that latex was invented.

Which was possible due to chemical advances and the industrial revolution first, than industrial progresses in assembly lines second.

*But*.

Amestris don't rely on chemistry.

All its technological advancements rely on **al**chemy.

And yeah, there's automails, but it's done by experts in individual workshops. Not in big factories by machines which can churn them by the dozens.

Look at their reaction in CoS when a plane come through the portal. Total bewilderment.

Due to the "ease" of doing alchemy and how impressive it is, centuries ago, the world of FMA turned their research and technological progress in the direction of alchemy.

Which enable them to do things we weren't capable of, at the same period in time, *but* the reverse is also true!!!!!

The technological progress that allowed for the creation of latex condom and its wide distribution is just not there yet.

Latex condom *could* be made, possibly, like automail. By civilian alchemists in their own private workshops and sold at the front of the shop.

But masse assembly lines that allow the production of materials and goods in nation-worth quantity, at a speed to keep up with national wide demands and cheap enough to beat private contruction/creation by individuals, that absolutely require machines of type that don't seem to exists in Amestris/FMA because their technology hasn't evolved in that direction.

Therefore, latex condoms don't exist yet at the time of Edward's story.

Or, if it does, it's "unique pieces". Like pharmaceutical creations, goods made in the back of the shop by experts for one use only.

Must be wayyy more expensive than the ones we currently enjoy.

Also, you must have variations of quality, since you will have variations of quality of raw materials, alchemical arrays and skills.

They won't be one hundred percent safe everywhere so there wouldn't be as much "faith" in their effectiveness than we currently have.

There was a whole part of the population at the start of the century who thought they made sexual intercourse feel not as good as "bare" intercourses do. And since they aren't 100% sure, why bother, you know?

Of course, it wasn't everyone and the condoms themselves got better and better (in feels and safety) overtime but it didn't happened in a day.

Right until the early 2000, you still have big parts of the population who thought they were more problems then they were worth.

Still some do, today.

So, to write that people of Amestris buy, use and view condoms like we do nowadays is just anachronistic.

And now I want a fic where the people in Team Mustang have a discussion in the office about which shop sell the best ones and at which price and who tried what to "test" them.

And Mustang has so many facts and everybody is just??? "We knew you got around but not This Much" But really these are tips he picked up from Madame Christmas and all the sex workers he has ever known since he was four.

So, like, he is infodumping twenty years worth of Usefull Tips to be a helpfull good boss. And his team is like "you want to talk about it?"

[20dollarlolita]

Hi! I hope you don't mind the question, but I've been trying to buy a sewing machine and definitely want a used one with a full metal interior relevant parts???? (for longevity and budget reasons).

I'm a student living abroad in austria and therefore have no car and should limit the money I'm spending on appliances, so local used it is. Today I've found a singer 5810 (samba 70) that is -according to the seller- fully functional but no longer needed for a somewhat decent price. Now my question is, "is this even a good machine that will last me for a long time?" or should i keep looking and hoping for a better machine/offer?

Ps: big thanks for all you do for the community

Thank you!

So, I'm saying this as someone who loves old sewing machines, you have to be careful.

If you want to know what to be careful about, the answer is plastic parts, rubber parts, and belts. An old all-metal straight stitch machine is going to be as good today as it will be 30 years from now. You're going to be expected to keep up with maintenance like oiling it and cleaning it, but any damage that could happen to that thing is going to have happened 40 years ago. Once it hits the age it is now, it won't really change.

Plastic and rubber, however, want to betray you. Everyone who's accidentally left a rubber band in their car ashtray has had the experience of picking up rubber that decided to stop being "band" and start being "puddle of crunchy mushy bits." Rubber hits a point where, through no actual action, it turns into awful mush. Plastic is great for being inexpensive to produce and not requiring a lot of machining, as well as being slightly flexible and allowing parts to come together easier since they can be less precise. Plastic will also hit an age where it goes "yeah I'm not fun and lightweight and flexible anymore! I'm angry and hard and I'm going to crack and break up when you ask me to do anything at all!" Which, like, honestly, Plastic? Mood.

The problem with sewing machines of a certain age is that they are not yet at, but soon will be at, the point where either the rubber turns to mush or the plastic turns more fragile than glass. This means you can buy a machine in "good condition" that actually IS in good condition, and through no fault of your own it can transform overnight into a machine with critical parts broken and entirely unfixable.

So I recommend getting an old machine only if you can get the following things

Part one) knowing the machine is in perfect working order. Old machines do something known as cascading, which is where one small part breaks and so you pay to get it fixed, only for another part to break, and slowly by small part after small part breaking you end up spending the full cost of a new machine on your old machine, and still end up with an old machine full of parts that are about to break. This happens because every part in the machine is close to the same age, so if one thing's already broken, it might be the machine telling you it's time to say goodbye. So I won't buy an old machine that's, "great except for this one small fix," anymore. That could easily be a sign that this machine won't be long-lasting.

Part 2) I won't buy a machine that doesn't have every single accessory that I think I could need. Old machines usually don't have parts available, so if the machine doesn't have the zipper foot or the walking foot, I have to buy it being aware that I will likely never have a zipper foot or a walking foot. If you don't require a zipper foot or a walking foot or whatever, that's fine, but never buy an old machine and think, "Oh, I just need to buy this one thing," without checking if good versions of that thing actually currently exist for sale. As a bonus, if a machine is from 1972 and the seller knows where the original zipper foot is, there's a much better chance that it was stored safely and used by someone who cared if they broke it or not. This often means that intact accessory kits indicate machines that were stored better.

Part 3) I won't buy a machine that I know was stored poorly for a lot of years. I know what the climate in my area is. If your machine has just been sitting in a garage for 25 years, I know that all the rubber and plastic in that machine has lived the life that the melted rubber band in my car ashtray has lived. I can expect those parts to perform the same. There's a HUGE difference between "this was in my garage for 10 years" and "this was in the closet in my guest bedroom for 10 years." Machines are meant to run and it doesn't mean it'll run really great right out of the gate if you stored it in the guest bedroom closet, but it's so much better than anywhere not climate controlled. If you're ever in doubt, look to see if the machine has/had rubber feet on the bottom. If those are still in good shape, there's a chance that the internals are in good shape too.

Part 4) I won't buy a machine with too many bells and/or whistles. I do not DO the Singer Touch n Sews. The Singer "touchy, and doesn't sew,"'s. At their heyday, these fuckers were $700 in the 70's and had every single bell and all of the whistles as well. It is no longer the 1970's and most of those bells and 77% of the whistles are broken. These are parts where once it breaks, it's broken. You cannot break a bell that does not exist.

Part 5) I will not buy an old machine that I do not know, for sure, is a really good price. I'm talking like $40 and under. You want this to be a good enough price that if this breaks after 3 projects you didn't waste your money. If you're lucky, you'll get many more than three projects out of your machine. Spend your money like you don't think you'll be lucky. Sewing machines are annoying to keep around if you don't use them, and someone WILL be offering one at a very good price. Just keep looking.

Part 6) Without ignoring the bell/whistle situation, I will prioritize machines that were very high end or expensive when they were made. If your machine was a little straight stitch machine and your husband spent a month's wages on it, some of that quality is going to transfer over to the modern day. A really cheap machine is maybe not going to have been a very good machine even in its prime. A good example of quality sticking around is the old all-mechanical Berninas like the 710 Record, which generally still age quite well. You'll know that they're old because their cases get fragile like glass, but you can't have a cracked cam when the whole machine's metal.

Please don't let all of that make you feel that all old machines are bad! A good old machine is, in my opinion, worth so much more than a frameless Brother or a Singer Heavy Duty. I have three old machines that I use more often than my modern, higher priced computerized machine. A well-chosen old machine will definitely outlive your modern machine that just comes with a 90 day warranty. I just means you need to be judicious with what machines you select. Sorry for not directly answering your question about that machine. The answer is "it depends on the specific machine and also the price it's offered for."

.

If all of that seems too hard, the Baby Lock Zeal has a metal internal frame and I've seen well cared-for machines of that model that are 10+ years old. Most of the BeGenuine collection is really solid and I'm a pretty big fan of them. You get fewer stitch patterns for the same price as a comparable Brother or Singer, but that cost is put into making the internals better. The Janome HD series (at least the HD1000 and HD3000 in White (black is a totally different factory with different standards) are really good. We can't get the HD5000 at work for complicated reasons but it might have the same problems as the 3000 black. Generally, mechanical machines haven't changed too much since the 60's, so a well-made one is going to not be dated to the point where you can't sew modern projects. None of this guarantees that the machine will last 30 years, but I see people replacing these machines when they feel they've got skills such that the machine no longer supports their skills. This is in sharp contrast to what people replace their $300 Singer or Brother machines for, which they do because they break. Check your warranty and anything with 5-6 year warranty on the motor is probably a good bet. Avoid anything with a 90 day warranty and be hesitant if the full warranty is up after 1 year.

[ch4sos]

received my lashinban package today 😵‍💫 got two items, the mochi megumi charm where he’s eating food and a choso rubber strap! they have good prices 🫶🏻

[wandering-spaghetti]

Today we are darning socks. I’m going to update this post with progress pics once I take them. This sock had a pretty large hole in the heel from wear and a puppy decided it was a chew toy as well. So I’m going to fix it. Because I’m not trying to buy socks right now because I’m poor 😂

Im using a handy dandy Speedweve loom to patch this hole. I absolutely love using this little guy to mend holes. I’ll link to it below for anyone that wants one.

I do have to mention that the rubber bands that came with the one I bought were trash. So get your own rubber bands. But the lion itself is a game changer.