#paper and pulp business ideas

[newbusinessideas]

Top 10 Profitable Paper Products Manufacturing Business Ideas

Unlock the potential of the paper industry with these 10 profitable paper products manufacturing business ideas. Learn how to start and succeed in this sustainable sector.#BusinessIdeas #PaperBusiness #Entrepreneurship #SmallBusiness #Startup #EcoFriendly

The paper business is the most rapidly expanding sector of all time. Paper may be used to make a variety of products, as well as to start small businesses. These ideas not only meet the growing demand for environmentally friendly products but also provide tremendous chances for creativity and success. Today, every business is seeking greenways to be environmentally conscious and socially…

[kemistre]

εïз┊𝐈 𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 — feat. takami "hawks" keigo

synopsis. what could possibly happen in the last few hours of your nightly patrol? surely nothing too crazy, right?

— content warnings. suggestive, angst, yelling, arguments, alcohol, drunk hawks, cheating, blood, use of 'fuck' quite a bit, i can't think of anything else but please lmk if you find something! — word count. 2,531

εïз┊author's note. this might be crazy ooc but i had the idea and i wanted to write about it <3 anyway this is in no way edited i just wrote it and now i'm posting it so it's not perfect! i might edit it later, too sleep rn😴

patrolling during the latest hours of the night was something you were never partiularly fond of. it never failed to send shivers down your spine, the act of walking up and down the streets of the city at its darkest hours.

at least when the sun was shining, there were plenty of heroes on watch making sure nothing could happen to the civilians that roamed-sometimes even the civilians would lend a helping hand. good things happened while the sun was out, but never when the moon took its place in the sky. robbery, arson, assault, murder; these were the most common crimes that the night patrol had to take care of.

and tonight, that was you. there was a part of you that just wanted to go home where it was safe and sound in your boyfriend's arms, but the other part knew you just had to get this shift over with. three hours had already past with nothing major happening, which was a win in your book.

you walked along the cracked sidewalk, the only things lighting up your path were street lights and the few businesses that kept their lights on throughout the night. a sigh fell from your lips, your breathe becoming visible through the icy air.

a jolt zipped through your body as you heard a loud crash, shouting coming from not so far away. it was sudden, a man in a unifrom came rushing out from one of the buildings in front of you. "are you a hero?" his voice echoed down the dark street. "there's a lunatic in here!"

a pit formed in your stomach as you ran as fast as you could towards the man. the shady nook. it was one of the largest bars in the city, at least once a week a hero would show up to escort someone home because they got way too drunk.

"i'm here, it'll be okay." you smiled, putting a hand on the man's shoulder before taking a step inside. your eyes widened at the scene in front of you. a man in a grey hoodie punched another man on the floor relentlessly, blood spewing everywhere while the rest of the bar chanted 'fight! fight! fight!', multiple having their phones in hand recording the ordeal.

"everyone please calm down!" you raised your voice, although no one heard you as they continued. you raised a brow and cracked your neck before rushing over to the man in the grey hood. you put your hand on his chest, pushing him away from the man beaten to a pulp on the hard concrete floor. "stop it! that's enough!" the man shoved your hand away before stumbling out of the bar, barely making it out without falling flat on his face.

you began following the man out of the building. a nervous smile found its way onto your lips as you handed the bartender a slip of paper with a string of digits on it. "sorry about this, call this number and an ambulance should be here soon."

as you caught up with the man in the hood, you spoke again. "sir, i'm going to need you to come with me. we need to get you to the police station so you can sober up and explain this mess." following closely behind him, you grabbed a hold of his wrist attempting to make him stop.

once again, he shoved your hand away as he turned towards you. "you can't take me to the police station, darling." his words were slurred, his voice hoarse. you recognized that voice. the wind picked up, coincedentally blowing back the hood that covered the man's face.

with wide eyes, you spoke. "hawks?" why was he here? "it's three o'clock in the morning, why are you fighting people at bars?" your stomach churned, curiousity filled your mind as you stared at the man who made you want to become a hero doing something as crazy as fighting as innocent civilian.

he chuckled, a smirk making its way on his face. "just living the life, sweetheart."

you let out a sigh. "living the life is not-" he turned around as he continued walking in the opposite direction of you. "where are you going?!"

"home."

"your house is this way." you stopped, pointing behind you as he looked back at you.

Eventually, he decided that you were correct despite it taking twenty minutes to come to that conclusion. he laughed, "oh what would i do without you sweetheart?" you gave him a nervous smile as you two continued to his house. you never thought that you would be walking takami keigo home after all that had happened.

"hawks, where's your key?" you looked at him, puzzled. "i thought you kept a spare under the mat?"

he shook his head. "no no, don't want any burgulars to get in babe."

you bit your lip, your heart beating faster the longer you stood here with him. "well where is it then?" he shrugged his shoulder, a cocky grin on his lips. you took a deep breathe in, forgetting home annoying this bird could be at times. you reached for the door handle, attempting to see if your old key would still work with these locks. although, despite what hawks had just said, the handle twisted, opening the door with ease.

you ushered him inside, turning on the lights to the large kitchen the two of you had walked into. being in this house was like walking down memory lane, although for you it was not such a good memory. it didn't matter, you were leaving soon. you'd be home soon. if you could just make it through a few more minutes, then you would be fine and never have to see him again.

hawks stumbled his way into the living room that connected with the kitchen, promptly taking off his blood stained hoodie. underneath was one of the compression shirts you bought him a long time ago, you were shocked it still fit him. he glanced back at you and spoke, his words slurred worse than they did before. "like what you see, baby?"

you rolled your eyes before clearing your throat. "i really should be leaving now hawks, it was nice seeing you."

a pout formed on his lips. "leaving already?" he mumbled as he stepped closer to you. you tried as hard as you could to keep the smile that was on your face the closer he got to you, but that smile quickly faded when he put his hands on your hips. "let me thank you for taking me home~" he cooed, his eyes staring at your lips.

you put your hands on his chest, keeping him from making an advance. "hawks.." you stared at him in disbelief. "i have a boyfriend, there's no way you don't know that, it's everywhere."

he rolled his eyes, his hands grabbing onto your wrists. "so? that bozo will never be as good as me, you know that baby~" his head dipped down to your neck making your body freeze up. before he could press his lips against you skin, you shoved him away from you. your shock and disbelief turned into anger as your expression change drastically.

your eyebrows furrowed, your voice rasied as you spoke. "stop it hawks!" your blood boiled as he rolled his eyes once again, that stupid grin on his face while he tripped over his own feet stumbling back towards the living room.

if only you had just left. if only you hadn't seen him at all, you night would've been so much better. you couldn't help but bring up the past as your mind grew fuzzy, your anger consuming you. "this is just a game to you! it's always just been a stupid game!" he stopped walking, hanging on to the marble counter for support. "toying with my feelings will always be so entertaining to you," you shook your head. "you used me again and again as just another one of your fuck buddies!" you grabbed a small vase, throwing it at his back.

he could've dogded it, but he didn't, letting a few glass shards pierce his wings and his back. "i loved you so much and you knew that!" you screamed, your voice couldn't handle it as it began to crack, tears welling up in your eyes. "you always knew i would be glued to you, you knew i would chase after you despite you never loving me back!" you let out a breathe you didn't know you were holding. "well you know what hawks? i'm happy now, i have someone who treats me right, treats me the way i deserve to be treated. and i couldn't ask for anyone better." tears flowed down your cheeks as your lips quivered, your face burning as your throat begged for water.

there was a moment of silence, tension and anxiety floating throughout the air. his wide eyes met yours, his voice cracking as he whispered. "is that what you think..?" his reaction to your words was something you never would have expected. his face was red, his mouth agape, his brows furrowed. all while a few stray tears fell from his eyes. keigo was..crying?

no. hawks doesn't cry. you had never seen him brought to tears before, not even when you left him. you shook your head in disbelief once more. "look at you now, acting like me leaving you was the worst thing to ever happen to you." you chuckled. "you can't manipulate me anymore hawks.

those few extra words you spoke made more tears fall down his cheeks, his chest rose and fell quickly, his breathe erratic. "y/n..." your name. he used your name? you couldn't remember a time when he did say your name. "you think this is an act?!" he raised his voice, leaving you almost paralyzed where you stood. a pit formed in your stomach as he continued. "i can't live without you y/n! i've been going insane without you here by my side!" he grabbed his chest, his voice hoarse and cracking at almost every word he spoke. "y'know something i've realized in this year you've been gone," he paused. "i don't..want to live without you." he let out a shaky breathe, his lips quivering. "i can't breathe without you, i need you. i need you like i need oxygen to survive."

this wasn't manipulation, it was his feelings in their most raw form. his words came straight from his heart, and that was something you never knew keigo could do. it was as if the inner workings of takami keigo's brain were layed out on the table like a blueprint to a building. "keigo..." you let out a breathe.

"nothing i did back then was the right things, and i know that. i know how stupid i am for treating you the way i did, i took you for granted."

keigo inched closer.

"my pride, my shitty personality, my fucked past, i let it get in the way."

another inch.

"i fucked up, i fucked up big time, and i'll never be more sorry for anything else i've ever done then what i did to you."

another inch.

"my fear of losing the person i love most got to me, i didn't want to care so i couldn't get hurt. but i ended up loving you in ways i never knew i could."

you couldn't move, the words of the man you love freezing you in place. he crept close, slowly wrapping his arms and wings around you, making sure you were okay with the intimacy. his hand cupped the back of your head as he pulled you close, the way his arms felt around you made you never want to leave. "but i don't deserve you." he whispered in your ear. "that dynamight kid deserves you, he's a great kid i've known him for a long time."

your mouth hung open, the tears from your cheeks dripping into the floor. your breath grew heavy, your puffy eyes making your vision blurry. he let you out of his embrace, his hand now on the top of your head, smoothing back your messy hair. you looked up at him as his lips pressed against your forehead. his smile, a real, genuine smile formed on his lips. "k-keigo.." a mutter fell from your lips, that's all that would come out.

“i’m really glad i got to see you again, even if it might be the last. please stay happy for me, okay?" he slid around you, opening up his door leading to the darkness of the night under the moonlit sky.

your eyes followed him, your mind fried from the string of emotions you had been through tonight. it was too much, it was painful. your heart ached. he wasn't what you thought he was.

he wasn't arrogant. he wasn't manipulative. he wasn't toying with you. he was just broken. he loved you the only way he knew how- by pushing you away. and now that he was in a state where he could just blurt his feelings out, he could finally say was he was truly feeling all this time.

but what were your true feelings?

"i love you.." you voice was soft, as light as a feather in the wind.

keigo's expression shifted from one of pain, to shock from your words. he replayed them in his mind trying to ration out if they were real or not. his hand let go of the door, letting it close gently on it's own.

it was sudden, with only a few steps your hands cupped his face as your lips met his. instinctively, his hands fell to your hips, keeping you as close to him as possible. the kiss was sloppy, passionate as his callous hands began to explore your body. your heart pumped, your cheeks burning as your lips pushed against each others in the most impatient way, as if you two had been waiting for this moment.

he finally pulled back for a breathe, his nose touching your own as he spoke softly. "what about your boyfriend?" his eyes locked with yours, awaiting an answer from your soft lips.

"i need you keigo, i don't want to live without you." you mumbled into his whiskey-flavored lips, now wrapping your arms around his neck. you could feel some of the shards of glass that got stuck in his back from the vase. the feel made your body heat up.

he studied you: your eyes, your lips, your body, everything about you. "who i am to say no to you, sweetheart~?" he smirked into the kiss as he didn't hesistate to pick you up by the thighs, frantically making his way over to the couch before laying you down on your back.

your lips disconnected once more as he grabbed the bottom of his shirt, swiftly pulling it over his head. you followed him actions, lifting up your shirt and taking it off. keigo took the shirt from your grasp before throwing it across the room, his lips soon trailing down the side of your neck.

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[dzvelinaskebiyars]

I was thinking about Misa!reader x draken angst no comfort or angst and comfort uhhh oneshot? (if you want)

you know Misa right? from death note. soo like reader basically acts and looks like Misa and is childhood friends with draken and is in LOVE with draken. in the year of 2005 on uhhh February 14, misa!reader leaves a love letter in draken's room and then decides to go to a bakery or something for a cake for draken BUT she gets jumped by a rival gang and is be4t to death. and draken finds out.. she can di3 or survive the be4tings.. sorry if this was confusing or if this is uncomfortable for you!

Hi! This isn't uncomfortable for me, do not worry! I love angst with all of my heart and I'm more than happy to write it. Thank you for requesting<333

Warnings: cuss words, strong/mature language, gang violence, angst.

Finally.

After 10 years from the first day of your and Draken's friendship, you've gathered up the courage to confess to him.

It's February 14 today, the day you first met Draken 10 years ago. You've been hinting at him for a while, that you were in love with him but he turned out to be denser than expected.

You came over to his place but being the vice commander of Toman, he was currently busy so he asked you to wait for him. That's when the idea of writing him love letter popped up in your mind.

Sitting in the quiet room, you grabbed paper and pen from his desk and started writing your feelings down. Your cheeks heating up in the process.

"Dear Ken,

I've been trying to tell you something for 10 years now, but I didn't have enough courage. Even now, I'm embarrassed to say it to your face, hence why I'm writing this letter. I love you, Ken. Not as a friend but as something more. I have had feelings for you since the day I met you. I'm sorry for not telling you this sooner but I was, still am, scared. I'm scared of being rejected. I'm afraid that even when I've given you my heart, you won't accept it. That's why I'm unable to face you. I'm using this as an opportunity to tell you that I love you. I love you to the moon and back. You're my world.

From [name]"

You left the letter on his desk, feeling rather anxious. Leaving his place, you went outside to get some fresh air. Even if you've decided to tell him like this, you couldn't help but feel anxious. So, you thought going outside would help you calm down a little. But you just ended up getting overwhelmed by the amount of people outside.

After walking to another place, somewhere with less amount of people, were you able to finally calm down.

But it didn't last long.

"Hey, beautiful." The guy's voice interrupted your thoughts. The voice and face of his was unfamiliar, obviously you have never met him before. "Mind giving us your phone number?" He said with wicked smirk. Two guys behind him were eyeing you up and down.

Because of your little career, you certainly were popular and had deal with people like him before. You declined his offer. "I'm sorry but I have to decline."

He frowned. "Why?"

His friend started speaking up now. "Come on, sweet thing, we're just asking for your phone number."

You cringed at the petname, wishing nothing but to punch him in the jaw, if he wasn't twice of your size, that it. You shook your head, turning away to leave but one of them grabbed your wrist.

"Why are you playing hard to get, you bitch?!"

You started to get anxious again, trying to get free from their grasp but the air got knocked out of you as one of them punched you in the stomach. You fell on the ground. "HELP! SOMEBO-" You weren't able to finish as the powerful kick was delivered to your face.

Your eyes watered up, tears threatening to spill. They continued with their kicks and punches, beating you up to pulp. You would have certainly died had the police not arrived.

...

Draken stepped in his own room, expecting to see you but was met with empty and silent room instead. Sighing out of disappointment, he sat down on his bed, eager for rest after the meeting.

That's when the piece of paper caught his attention. He took it in his hands and started reading it, already guessing that it was from you.

But...His jaw dropped, eyes widening in shock, as he read the letter multiple times, thinking his eyesight was deceiving him. The blush creeped up on his cheeks, smile forming up on his lips.

There's no way he'd reject you. He loved you just as much.

The call on his phone snapped him out of his thoughts, seeing his friend's name, he picked up. "Yes?" Hearing his friend's panicked voice, anxiety creeped up in his body.

"Draken you h-have to hurry! [name] is in the hospital. Badly b-beaten up!" the person sobbed out over the phone.

Draken froze. "W-What..?" His voice was so weak and shaky, hardly processing whatever he just got told. He immediately rushed to his bike, driving to the hospital that his friend told to come to.

Draken was praying in his heart, praying to God that you'd survive. Despite his trembling hands, he was able to drive to the hospital without crashing with anything. But his safety didn't matter to him now. He rushed in the hospital, hurriedly going up to third floor where you were.

Your family members were already there, crying. Crying as if they lost their lifetime, only tragedy written on their face. Your friends sobbing in the corner. "Where is she? How is she?!" Draken asked, louder than he expected.

The sight before him making his skin crawl from fear, fear that he has lost you. One of your friend stood up, trying to calm down as they informed him. "[Name]...She's in critical condition. Doctors s-said she might not survive."

He could swear, he could swear that he felt his world falling apart to pieces, the ground beneath his shattering and dragging him in the void. He felt like there were ropes around his neck, choking him to death as he struggled to breathe.

He didn't know what to say. All Draken wanted to do was to see you and hold you in his embrace, but he just got informed that you might die.

"H-How did this happen?" He finally managed to speak up, his voice barely audible.

"She got jumped by some assholes and they beat her up to death. Police arrested them though."

His sorrow got replaced with uncontrollable anger. He wanted nothing but to beat those morons up to death, to actual death bed and deliver them to reaper with his own hands.

He sat down on the hospital chair, his knuckles turning white from the strength he was putting in his fists, his nails cutting his skin. He couldn't do anything else except waiting. He hated how helpless he was, not being able to help you at all.

He remembered the letter you wrote for him. I love you, Ken. He remembered your words, his heart starting to feel incredibly heavy. As if it was about to fall in his stomach from the weigh of grief he was feeling.

He sent his prayers to God, praying to him to don't take you away while the cold tears run down his cheeks.

"please, God...I can't live without her."

♡♡♡♡

Hii! I hope you're satisfied with this<333

Gosh, I LOVE angst.

[maxwell-grant]

I’ve noticed once or twice among the pulp hero’s a dude with a crystal ball mysterio helmet in a dark suit. I can’t help but notice that what the Orb look is baller, it’s really distinct from other pulp characters he’s getting grouped with. What’s this guys deal and why is he so different from other pulp dudes?

(Meme on the left by Questionposting)

Ethel Knapp, twenty, stood in her furnished room and peered at the gas jet. For ten minutes she had been peering at it, trying to summon the courage necessary to turn it on—without a lighted match above it. She had no money. She had come to Great City from her home in Ohio to work. She had no work. She had no way of returning to her mother and father. But she did have a way of saving herself from further hunger and humiliation. 

The gas jet.

She raised her hand toward it. Startled, she paused. A faint rustling sound came into the room. Looking down, she saw an envelope creeping under the door. She took it up, bewildered, and opened it. Inside lay money— currency held together by a band of silver paper—banknotes totalling $200!

“I can’t bear to see suffering, Angel. I can no more help trying to alleviate it than I can help breathing. If there were any other way of taking money from those who hoard it, and giving it to those who desperately need it—if there were any other way than stealing, I’d take that way. But there isn’t.” - The Sinister Sphere

This is The Moon Man. Moon Man was created by C. Frederick Davies and appeared in 38 stories from 1933 to 1937 and was a cross between The Shadow and Robin Hood, a black-clad urban avenger with a unique costume who stole from the rich to provide for the poor and was viciously hunted by law enforcement and the criminal underworld for it, not helped by the fact that his true identity is that of Stephen Tatcher, the 25-year-old police sergeant and son of the police chief, engaged to the daughter of his worst enemy, a lieutenant constantly trying to get Moon Man in the electric chair.

There's three main things that set The Moon Man apart from the other costumed pulp heroes and Shadow imitators from his day: Number one is that, despite looking a lot like Mysterio, he actually had much more in common with Spider-Man than even The Spider himself, in that he was mostly an ordinary schlub driven to help others who had to constantly pull off precarious balancing acts to keep his job and his secret and his life. 2nd being that he is a far more socially conscious character than pretty much all of his contemporaries, dealing with economic inequality, white collar crime, and grey areas where business practices and law enforcement intermingle with criminality to trample the lower class. He's a Depression-era Robin Hood and the stories are dead serious about it.

And third is that The Moon Man is no gentleman thief or dark avenger: He does none of this for the sake of personal fulfillment or revenge, he isn't tabling fights with gangsters to occasionally do an afterschool special or make a half-hearted gesture at social commentary, this is just what he does as a baseline. He is far less preoccupied with fighting crime than he is saving people in bad circumstances, and the stories are highly preoccupied with the people he saves, and the circumstances that The Moon Man is saving them from. For a weird guy in a creepy mask who goes around in a black coat with a gun in hand, he's an unexpectadly compassionate and soft-hearted (even mopey at times) character.

A chuckle came from the silver‐headed man. “You’ve distributed the money, Angel?”

“Yeah. Got it out right away. And it certainly was badly needed, boss.”

“I know… You realize why I selected Martin Richmond as a victim, Angel?”

“I’ve got an idea he ain’t all he seems to be.”

“Not quite that,” answered the voice that came from the silver head. “He’s quite respectable, you know. Social position, wealth, all that. But there’s one thing I don’t like about him, Angel. He’s made millions by playing the market short, forcing prices down.”

“Nothin’ wrong in that, is there?”, Dargan asked.

“Not according to our standards, Angel; but the fact remains that short‐selling had contributed to the suffering of those we are trying to help. I’ve taken little enough from Richmond’s kind, Angel. I must have more— later."

Dargan peered. “I don’t quite get you, boss. You’re takin’ an awful chance—and you don’t keep any of the money for yourself.”

A chuckle came from the silver globe. “I don’t want the money for myself. I want it for those who are perishing for want of the barest necessities of life. What would you do if you saw a child about to be crushed under a truck? You’d snatch her away, even at the risk of your own life."

“Don’t think I’m questioning you, boss.” Dargan hastened to explain. “I’m with you all the way, and you know it"

"Yes, Angel,” said the Moon Man gently, “I know it. You’re the only man in the world I trust. You know what it is to suffer; that’s why you’re with me”.

The Moon Man lacked much in terms of budget or resources, partially because all of his money went to people in need, and he was under constant threat from the law and underworld alike, each more bloodthirsty than the other in how badly they wanted to mount his Argus helmet on a platter (he didn't even make the helmet himself, he mail-ordered it under his detective arch-enemy’s name). His father is a police chief with a weak heart, which adds an extra pressure to Stephen's secret in that it being revealed will not only lead to his father being fired, but likely dying from shock.

He picks hide-outs with creaky stairs as his main line of defense against intruders, his only line of defense is a gun, he pined over the love of a stubborn lady who initially detested his alter-ego, but eventually learned his secret and grew into a stronger person and even partner as they got engaged. And he only has one other ally he can trust:

He’d gone bad in the ring. A weakened arm made further fighting impossible. He found it just as impossible to find work. He’d drifted downward and outward; he’d become a bum, sleeping in alleys, begging food. Until, mysteriously a message had come to him from the Moon Man. 

Some day Ned Dargan was going to fight again. Some day he was going to get into the ring, knock some palooka for a row, and become champ. And if he ever did, he’d have the Moon Man to thank for it…

His main sidekick from the start, scarred ex-boxer Ned Dargan, was rescued by Moon Man from homelessness and starvation, and he was frequently named “Angel” as it was Dargan’s job to distribute the money, the narrative often filling the reader on the background of the recipients to make them not just anonymous victims, but real people with problems readers in the Depression era would have likely identified with. When we first meet them, Dargan tells him about a steamfitter with a sick daughter who needs money to pay for his kid's treatment, and a pair of kids with a recently deceased mother whose uncles can't afford to take them in and who will go to an orphanage without help, and The Moon Man promises money for all of them.

The main issue with the stories is that they do get a bit repetitive, but they're also fairly short and quick to read, and the strength of the concept, the assertive characters, the compassion, and the class dynamics that usually remain subtext in these kinds of stories, here becomes much of the text itself.

The Moon Man had a remarkable amount of continuity and consistency for a pulp hero, and only picked up more and more enemies that would constantly frame and target him with no additional allies. In fact, circa the end of the run, both his fiancé Sue as well as Angel are well acquainted with the Moon Man’s secret identity by this point and constantly beg Stephen Thatcher to give up his double life, warning him of increasing danger from both the cops and the mob, and in the last story, Blackjack Jury, he's pressured to give up his identity for good by the two and by how precariously his father's job hangs on him being able to capture Moon Man. The story and the character's run ends without revealing what decision he took.

Steve Thatcher lowered his head as though stubbornly to butt an obstacle. A wild scheme— his! He knew it. But, also, he knew the world— cruel and relentless—and he could not stand by and do nothing to save those who were suffering. The mere thought of letting others perish, while nothing was done to save them, was unendurable.

Beyond the written law was a higher one to which Steve Thatcher had dedicated himself—the law of humanity.

And if he were caught? Would he find leniency at the hands of Gil McEwen and Chief Thatcher? No. He was certain of that. Even if McEwen and the chief might wish to deal kindly with him, they would be unable to. The Moon Man now was a public enemy—his fate was in the hands of the multitude. Steve Thatcher would be dealt with like any common crook—if he were caught.

He remembered Ernest Miller’s daughter, who must go to Arizona or die; he remembered Frank Lauder, who must be cared for; he remembered Bill and Betty Anderson, who must have help.

“It’s got to be done!” he said through closed teeth. “Damn it, it’s got to be done!”

He walked swiftly through the night - The Sinister Sphere

The Moon Man is public domain and has seen some usage in modern pulp stories, but (as far as I can find) never really with the same bite that makes these stories appealing, and it's not difficult to see why the character, despite a fairly respectable run and a striking costume, remained mostly obscure. He certainly wouldn't have had any kind of 50s paperback revival without being heavily edited or rewritten entirely just in case somebody was maybe trying to trojan horse any commie talk somewhere, in a character whose main mission statement was addressing economic inequality and getting in trouble with the police over it. And nowadays, with Mysterio being so popular and "Moon Man" taking on a wholly different noxious meaning online, The Moon Man would require a slight overhaul of costume and a complete overhaul of his name, and unfortunately that entails almost making him a different character

The Moon Man stories were adapted into a short comics run circa 1940-42 where they completely overhauled his costume and changed the names, titling him The Raven, but otherwise kept the stories mostly the same. I don't have much of anything to say about him, but there is one additional bit of strangeness that followed The Moon Man's largely unsuccessful transition to comics: The Moon Man was never published in Brazil, but there was a Brazilian superhero in 1962 (which still predates Mysterio) with the exact same name and headpiece. Created by artist Gedeone Malagola who, upon being denied the opportunity to publish his own Phantom stories, simply erased the character’s head, added a cape and used a penny to draw a translucent globe for a head, creating a new hero in turn named Homem-Lua (Moon Man). The character lasted for a couple of years as a back-up on fellow superhero Black Ray’s magazine, before it’s end.

The only detail given about his past is that he was born in Brazil, initially operating near his headquarters in São Paulo before becoming a globetrotter. He lacks explicit superpowers, but is feared by criminals around the world and considered to be an immortal who’s been active for over a century, as many supporting characters in the stories claimed that their grandparents had met the hero. A master of technology who flew around in a personalized jet and was able to call upon the aid of indigenous tribes around the world, who believed him to bear the mark of a godlike entity or be said an incarnation of said entity (as a plot point it's as racist as you'd expect, but also gets a bit funny when you consider how the most famous of moon-themed superheroes this side of Japan, Moon Knight, would pan out 15 years later)

He's mostly a fairly cut-n-dry Phantom clone with some oddities here and there, namely: In one adventure, despite the character being supposedly a human, it was said that all who gaze on his face would die. He was never unmasked in the entirety of his run, and he had no compunctions about executing his villains, whether it was by burying them under a stone idol, breaking dams and letting them drown in the ensuing floods, exploding them, or outright sinking daggers into their chests. It's a very stark contrast to the pulp Moon Man, who preferred to avoid conflict entirely and would only use his gun as a last resort. Ultimately, they bear no official connection, but the strangeness of sharing the exact same name and trademark headgear. It's as if one ends where the other begins.

In some ways, I'd argue the original Moon Man is the purest wish fulfillment pulp hero of The Great Depression, because although eventually he'd take on more bizarre villains, the bulk of his stories are about this regular guy who goes around patching up wounds left by the Depression in a case-by-case basis and (barely) outfoxing and surviving repeated attacks from the powers that be only because he hides his true face from the world. He has no extraordinary abilities or resources, but he makes do as best he can with a ticking time bomb hanging above him.

As unfortunate as the character's present circumstances may be I absolutely think he's got what it takes to be striking and memorable and resonant in ways a lot of his fellow costume avengers aren't, and hey, the guy's public domain, so, if anyone wants to take a shot at reviving him or simply plopping him into a story, add another weird chapter to his history, nothing's stopping you. I simply have to believe there's an audience out there who may fall in love with a well-meaning bleeding heart trying his best who, with nothing but theatrics and smarts and a fishbowl helmet for a head, is driven to fight capitalism instead of Spider-Man.

With a strange, uncanny knowledge the Moon Man selected his victims. Those victims had climbed roughshod to power; some within the law, and others outside the pale. And the Moon Man called on them with a very definite and grim plan— for he walked in the eternal danger of a double menace. If the silent figure had any face at all, it was the face of the man in the moon!

[black-arcana]

ARCH ENEMY Announces New Album 'Blood Dynasty'

After the surprise drop of their latest single "Dream Stealer" on July 31, Swedish/Canadian/American extreme metal titans ARCH ENEMY are back with more exciting news. The band will release its twelfth studio album, "Blood Dynasty", on March 28, 2025 via Century Media Records.

ARCH ENEMY founder and guitarist Michael Amott shares: "This new album pushes the boundaries of what we've done before — it's everything you've come to expect from this band, and then some! We can't wait for you to hear it and feel the energy we've poured into every track. Welcome to the 'Blood Dynasty'!"

"Blood Dynasty" track listing:

01. Dream Stealer 02. Illuminate the Path 03. March Of the Miscreants 04. A Million Suns 05. Don't Look Down 06. Presage 07. Blood Dynasty 08. Paper Tiger 09. Vivre Libre 10. The Pendulum 11. Liars & Thieves

Next to the limited deluxe editions that feature two exclusive bonus tracks, fans can direct their attention to the limited liquid blood vinyl that is exclusively available in the band stores and limited to 666 copies.

"Dream Stealer" marked ARCH ENEMY's first new music since the release of the "Deceivers" album, which came out in August 2022.

"Dream Stealer" was mixed by Jens Bogren and mastered by Tony Lindgren at Fascination Street Studios. The video was directed and produced by Patric Ullaeus.

Two months ago, Amott told Pulp Magazine about "Dream Stealer" and ARCH ENEMY's plans for new music: "We've been staying busy for sure and are really focused on writing and recording new stuff in between the touring we're doing. I'm kind of always coming up with new musical and lyrical ideas though — I just keep going as it's what I enjoy doing anyway. Making music is a natural process, and it's pretty much a daily thing, so it can be hard to pinpoint exactly when everything was conceived. I do, however, actually remember that the initial seed for 'Dream Stealer' was written during a songwriting session I did with Daniel [Erlandsson, drums] in Los Angeles, California, two years ago, and then it's been rearranged and updated a lot till it reached its final state that you're now hearing."

Asked if it was a conscious decision to go back to the "classic ARCH ENEMY" direction and approach with "Dream Stealer", Amott said: "I've seen some seriously great feedback from the fans, and that's always very encouraging, of course. Personally, I don't know if I’d necessarily say 'Dream Stealer' is a throwback to the sound of the past, but I get what they mean — the song has the energy and speed that is very exciting and infectious. Maybe there is a hint of vintage ARCH ENEMY in there, and why not? I'm looking forward to playing it live on stage — I think it is going to be intense as hell."

In October, ARCH ENEMY will embark on the "Rising From The North" co-headline tour with Swedish melodic death metal pioneers IN FLAMES, as well as special guests SOILWORK, before they head over to Mexico for another extensive headline run.

ARCH ENEMY played its first concert with new guitarist Joey Concepcion on April 24 at Musinsa Garage in Seoul, South Korea. The show was part of ARCH ENEMY's 2024 Asian tour.

Last December, ARCH ENEMY announced that it had "amicably" parted ways with longtime guitarist Jeff Loomis.

Jeff, who was the main songwriter in his previous group, NEVERMORE, joined ARCH ENEMY in late 2014, but was not involved in the writing for the latter act's last two albums, 2017's "Will To Power" and the aforementioned "Deceivers".

ARCH ENEMY is:

Alissa White-Gluz - Vocals Michael Amott - Guitar Joey Concepcion - Guitar Sharlee D'Angelo - Bass Daniel Erlandsson - Drums

Photo credit: Patric Ullaeus

[daydreamtofiction]

Thou Shalt Not Covet // 2: Temptation

Contents | Part 1 | First Person Version [AO3]

Summary: (Priest!Benedict x Fem Reader) You return to the church with no idea what you're going to do.

Word Count: 4.5K

Warnings: Strong language, irreverence, dark humour, adult & sexual themes, discussions of death and grief. Readers must be 18+

The church seemed so different in the daylight; less eerie, less intimidating without the shrouding of nightfall, the threat of a stranger watching from the shadows. The grounds were gloomy and wet after a late morning rainfall, the grey stone pathway winding through mossy green grass, trees and headstones, all sitting beside a busy carpark that seemed so out of place amongst it all. 

You were hovering on the steps outside the church, shifting your weight from side to side as you clutched the newsletter in your hand, glancing down every few minutes at the date and time circled in pen. You could hear the service inside, the muffled sounds of music and prayer seeping out through the large doors. It was hard to keep track of how long you'd actually been standing there, but it was long enough to have debated with yourself several times; go in or don't go in.

You were currently in the 'don't go in' camp. Of course you were; you couldn't exactly convert to catholicism just because you fancied the bloody priest. That was a paradox if there ever was one - not to mention a complete sacrilege. But what if he wasn't actually as attractive as you remembered? What if seeing him again in the stark daylight, wearing his silly little robes giving his silly little sermon, was exactly what you needed to stop thinking about him?

You walked into the church before you could change your mind again, turning the corner into the chapel and stopping near the back. You let out a sigh in the realisation that you'd missed it; there were people already standing up, shaking hands and wishing each other well, an elderly woman walking the aisle with a donations tray, families already slipping on their coats and beginning to leave. 

You exchanged a polite smile with a couple as they herded their three small children out, before stepping aside to let an old man walk past you. 

"God bless you," he said kindly, patting you on the shoulder as he left. 

"Oh, yeah thanks, you too," you replied awkwardly. 

The newsletter had practically turned to pulp in your sweaty hands, your fingers twisting and tearing at the paper as you anxiously scanned the church. Maybe it was good that it was over, you thought, like the decision had been made for you, like God himself had wagged his finger and shook his head and said 'no Ellis, bad Ellis, down'. 

"Ellis?" a voice called through the bustling crowds. A voice that definitely didn't belong to God. "You made it!" 

You glanced ahead, your eyes falling on Father Benedict as he made his way down the aisle towards you. Your heart sank as he got closer, the realisation hitting you that even in the stark daylight - in his silly little robes, after his silly little sermon - he was still just as attractive as you remembered. And he had remembered you. 

"Oh I er, I'm not sure this really counts as making it," you said with an awkward laugh, gesturing to the people around you as they continued to exit. 

He smiled and stopped in front of you, leaning forward to speak quietly. "Don't worry about it. I only made it as far as the car park the first time I returned to the church."

Returned? You tried not to let the curiosity show on your face, instead opting for a smile, a gentle nod.

"It can be daunting," he continued. "But you made it inside, that's a great place to start." 

He reached out and gave your shoulder a supportive pat, much like the old man had, yet somehow it felt so different. 

"Excuse me, Father?" a woman interrupted softly, pulling his attention away from you. 

You stood quietly for a moment while he spoke with her, waiting patiently as another person approached him, then another, then another, until before you knew it, he was surrounded by a crowd of people, all of them hanging on his every word. 

Maybe it wasn't just you; maybe you all fancied him.  

You waited a while, but the crowd never seemed to thin. There was always another hand for him to shake, another question for him to answer. It reminded you of when you were a child; how your mother would run into someone she knew at the supermarket, leave you standing nearby with the shopping trolley while she talked with them in the middle of the aisle. 

You let your gaze wander to the ceiling, to the windows, to the woman getting closer with the donations tray. You caught her eye for a fleeting moment before turning your back on her, pushing your hands into the pockets of your coat in search of some spare change, only to pull out a handful of pennies and a receipt that wasn't even yours. 

"Harrods?" said Father Benedict. "Aren't you fancy."  

You hadn't realised he was there until he spoke, the hushed tone of his voice sending a tingle down the back of your neck as he stood behind you. You looked up to see him peering over your shoulder at the receipt in your hand, eyebrow raised teasingly. 

"Oh it's not mine, my friend must've borrowed my coat without asking," you replied as you turned back around. "Anyway, I can see you've got your hands full with your... fans?"

He dropped his head with a slight laugh.    

"So I'll just..." You pointed towards the exit.

He watched you walk away, you knew because you waited until the last possible moment to turn your back on him, taking in every last second of his face like you were trying to burn it into your brain.

You walked out into the small foyer that separated the chapel from the outside world, stopping for a moment to button up your coat as the cold drifted in through the open doors.

"Wait, Ellis." 

It was quieter in this little foyer, like a pocket of stillness between the hum of the crowd inside and the patter of rain beyond the doors. Father Benedict's eyes looked even bluer in the natural light, creasing softly with a sympathetic smile. 

"Listen," he began, catching his breath. "I should've known things like this can be daunting for people who don't have much experience with the church. So I thought maybe we could try something less... churchy?" 

"Churchy," you repeated. 

He shook his head with a laugh, realising what he'd said. "I have a few errands to run. If you'd like to accompany me?"

"Another late night trip to Tesco?"

He laughed again, more heartily this time. "Clearly 'errands' was the wrong word. I meant I have some community work to do today, if you'd like to join me."

You took a moment to look around, your eyes falling to the old, dusty pink carpet that looked like it had been there since the 80's, before glancing back up at him through your lashes.

"Sure," you said, almost shyly. 

"Great. Just give me five minutes to clear out my fans." 

You smirked, your gaze falling back to the ground as he hurried away. 

A grey shirt, lazily tucked into a pair of trousers, unbuttoned casually at the collar, sleeves rolled halfway up his forearms- 

You were doing it again, staring at him, burning his image into your brain. 

Dark curls still damp from the rain, large palms and long fingers, firmly gripping the steering wheel as he drove-

You looked away from him quickly, turning your attention to the passenger window, like the only way to stop ogling him was to not look at all. There was a pit forming in your stomach; guilt for a sin you hadn't yet committed. And perhaps for the ones you already had. 

He turned into the carpark of a supermarket, backing into a space and pulling the handbrake before glancing over at you. You raised an eyebrow, making him chuckle softly to himself. 

"You asked if it was a late night trip to Tesco," he said. "This is a late morning trip to Morrisons. Totally different."

Your face broke with a smile. It seemed like that was all the two of you did; smile, laugh, say things that made the other's mouth twitch, swap glances that turned breaths to quiet giggles. It made you realise how little you'd been smiling lately, and you wondered if it was the same for him; if you were just two lonely, miserable people pretending that you weren't. 

You had never been to this particular location before; the layout was different, aisles in the wrong order, like an alternate reality Morrisons where everything was back-to-front and the bread was on the left instead of the right. You followed Father Benedict through the store, arms folded across your chest as you plucked up the courage to speak, to ask the question that had been itching at the back of your tongue. 

"So," you finally said, pausing to clear your throat. "Earlier you said you only made it as far as the carpark when you first returned to the church..." 

"Mhm," he replied casually, like he knew what was coming. 

"What did you mean by returned?"

He paused for a moment. "I took a sabbatical for 'spiritual development'," he air-quoted with his fingers. "But truthfully- and you can't tell anyone-"

"I won't, I promise." 

Who were you going to tell? Alfie, the boyfriend who barely listened when you talked? Your bus driver? The woman with the donations tray? 

"I was..." He drew in a deep breath through his nose, letting it out in a gentle sigh. "Questioning my faith." 

"Why?" 

"Temptation," he replied. "I came very close to... breaking certain vows." 

Sex. Sex, he was talking about sex.

"And it led me down a path of uncertainty," he continued as he perused the items on the shelves. "Was I really as pious as I swore myself to be if I was still capable of wanting something so... unholy?" 

Hot sex, apparently. Filthy, dirty, depraved sex- 

You bumped into a cardboard display, knocking its contents onto the floor. You bent down quickly to pick it all up, swallowing hard past your suddenly very dry throat. 

"How did you... get over it?" you asked.

"I let myself question everything," he replied. "I let myself feel everything, doubt everything. I told myself I could give in to the temptation if it was what I truly wanted, that I didn't have to return to priesthood if I didn't want to. But in the end, it's where I felt I belonged. I chose this."

"And you're happy?"

He paused for a brief moment before smiling softly. "I'm happy." 

You followed him down another aisle and watched as he pulled a heavy pack of bottled waters from the bottom shelf, hoisting them onto his shoulder with ease. There was silence for a while as you walked together towards the tills - on the wrong side, just like everything else - until finally he spoke again. 

"Are you happy?"

You looked up at him, blinking a few times, unsure if you'd ever been asked that question before. "Am I happy?" You fell silent, mulling it over. "Sure."

He looked down at you, eyes trailing slowly across your face. You thought you'd been convincing in your response, but the way he was looking at you made it clear you hadn't. 

"What?" you asked softly, his focus on you making you feel shy.

"Nothing," he said as he joined a queue. 

"So..." you said, an uncharacteristic urge to fill the silence. "Is this what you use to make the holy water or something?" You gestured to the bottles on his shoulder. 

He turned his head slowly to look at you, a stunned amusement creeping across his face.

"What?" you asked. 

"I just-" he laughed. "I can never tell if you're joking or not."

You'd been told that before - a lot, actually - usually with a scoff, an eye-roll or a shift in discomfort. It always made you feel like there was something wrong with you. But when he said it, it was like he found it endearing, like it was actually a good thing.

"No," he continued, the remnants of a smile still on his face. "It's for the support group today." 

"Support group," you repeated with a grimace. 

"Hey, don't knock it just yet."

You remained quiet, entirely unconvinced. 

"I think you'll find it interesting to see all facets of the parish," he continued. "How faith can be enriching-"

"You really want me to like all of this, don't you."

He paused, narrowing his eyes and darkening his voice as he leaned in towards you. "Oh I'm going to make you like it."

You looked up at him, lips pressed together, brow raised over wide eyes. You wanted to point out how erotic that sounded; how you could almost feel the hard floor on your knees, the spank on your backside, the hand around your neck. 

He paused for a moment, like he was processing what he'd just said; replaying it in his head a few times before closing his eyes and exhaling a despondent laugh. "I'm aware of how that sounded." 

"I'm not sure what you mean..." you replied.

He drove you both back after that, parking up outside the rectory which connected to the church by a winding path, the building surrounded by weathered headstones and weeping willow trees. You pushed on the stiff passenger door until it creaked open and climbed out, walking around the back of the car, crossing your arms and leaning against it. You heard his door open and close soon after, the sound of his footsteps on the gravel as he approached. 

You watched him walk around the car to meet you, your breath shallowing suddenly as he came closer than you expected, stopping right in front of you and leaning in slowly until there was barely any space between your bodies.

The closeness ignited a ripple deep in your stomach; you could smell him, could see his throat bobbing as he swallowed, could feel the warmth radiating from his body. There was silence, a moment of heart-pounding anticipation as you tilted your chin up, lips parted slightly as you gazed at him through heavy lashes. 

Then he spoke close to your ear, his voice deep and quiet.

"Ellis?"

"Yes?" you replied, your voice barely a whisper. 

"I need to get into the boot..." 

You glanced down to see him gripping the handle, thumb on the button, your backside stopping him from opening it. 

"Oh, shit," you said, before looking back up at him, your eyes widening as you realised your mistake. "Oh shit." 

"It's alright," he laughed, furrowing his brow like he'd been oblivious to the whole thing. 

You took a step back and he opened it, hoisting the water bottles back onto his shoulder and grabbing a shopping bag in his other hand. 

"Can I confess something?" he asked, slamming the boot shut and beginning to walk down the path towards the church.

"Sure," you replied as you hurried to match his pace. 

"I fucking hate these meetings." 

The corner of your mouth twitched at the sound of him swearing, like the words were all the more satisfying on the tongue of someone who shouldn't be using them. 

"Sorry," he added quickly. 

"Why do you hate them?" 

He shook his head with a sigh. "They're depressing for a start, painfully boring most of the time too. And I feel bad even saying that because these people look to me for comfort, but the whole time all I'm thinking about is how much I want it to be over." 

"Sounds like my sex life." 

You regretted saying it before the words had even fully left your lips, grimacing to yourself and dropping your gaze to the floor.

"Depressing, painfully boring and you spend the whole time wanting it to be over?" he asked with a raised eyebrow. "Wow, you're sleeping with the wrong people." 

You exhaled a laugh through your nose. "Person, actually."

He paused, and though you weren't looking at him, you could sense a change in his demeanour. He didn't say anything, instead he began to walk ahead slightly, jogging up a small set of steps as if the water bottles on his shoulder weighed nothing at all.

You followed him into a small pub that stood beside the church. It was quiet inside, only the sound of quiet chatter and clinking glasses as a group of old men sat at the bar. You looked down at the garishly patterned carpet, wondering why all pubs were decorated like this, why they all smelled the same. 

"Afternoon, Father," said one of the men raising his glass, causing the others to turn around and greet him too. 

"Afternoon?" Father Benedict replied, jokingly checking his watch. 

"Close enough," one of them shouted.

"Ah well, if I had to listen to my sermons, I'd feel the need to drink too." 

They all laughed, and you felt the corner of your mouth rising too. Not because it was funny, but because of the way they laughed; so wholesome, spirited, infectious. 

You followed him into a small function room at the back, foldable chairs already set up in a circle, a sign on the door that read St Augustine's Church grief support group. 

You began to wander around the room, arms crossed over your chest, glancing over every few moments as he unpacked the bottles of water and set them out on a table. 

He was so captivating to watch, so deliberate in his movements; confident yet graceful, masculine and elegant all at once. He was biting his lip absentmindedly, letting his hair fall into his eyes as he placed a hand on his hip, counting the number of bottles in his head. 

It was then that you realised you were no longer wandering around, but simply standing there on the other side of the room, watching him. 

"Do you really believe it's unholy?" you asked, blurting it out before your mind even had a chance to catch up. 

"Hm?" 

"When we were in the shop earlier, you said you questioned your faith because you were having temptations, because the thing you desired was 'unholy'. Do you really believe that?" 

He cleared his throat, pausing for a moment and shrugging his shoulders before answering. "I do. I mean, i'm a priest, I sort of have to." 

You watched as he made his way to the circle of chairs, straightening a few of them, their legs making an uncomfortable squeak against the floor. 

"You can sit anywhere, by the way," he said, changing the subject. "I doubt we'll have a huge turnout." 

"But 'unholy' doesn't necessarily mean bad or wrong," you continued, like you were thinking out loud, trying to justify a desire for him that he didn't even know you had. 

"I never said it did." 

"Like, surely something can't be wrong if it feels so-" 

"You know I never told you what made me question my faith..."

You stopped, eyes meeting as he looked at you curiously. 

"But if I wasn't mistaken," he continued. "You seem to be assuming-"

"No, you know what, you're right," you interrupted, shaking your head. "Maybe I was just projecting." 

"Projecting. So you've been battling with your own temptations?" 

You bit the inside of your cheek, holding back the urge to tell him just how hard that battle had been. How you'd touched yourself while picturing his hands on you. How even after sex with your boyfriend, the only way you could come was by thinking of him, someone you barely knew, someone you should never have thought of in that way.

"Maybe I have," you said quietly. 

He weaved between two chairs into the middle of the circle, taking a few tentative steps towards you. "D-do you want to... Talk about it?" 

You swallowed. 

"Excuse me, am I early?" a voice came from the doorway. 

He broke eye contact with you, and it was only then that you realised you'd been holding your breath. 

"No not at all," he said cheerfully as he turned around, welcoming the timid woman into the room. "It's Sarah, right?" 

"Sandra," she replied, clutching her handbag to her chest as she took a seat. 

"Oh, of course, sorry. I'm still trying to learn everyone's names." 

"It's okay, Father. So how are you finding the parish?" 

"Quite different to my last one, actually, the community here is really..." 

You zoned out, vision unfocusing, their voices turning muffled as they continued to make polite small talk. 

This was wrong, you thought, you were here because he believed you sought guidance, faith, salvation. But the truth was anything but. It made you feel dirty, like you'd infiltrated his life under false pretences, and as more people slowly trickled into the room, you couldn't help but feel like you were taking advantage of them too. 

You remained standing at the back of the room as the circle of chairs filled up. It was where you felt you belonged; watching from the outside, an admirer as opposed to an invader. 

"Ellis, come and take a seat," said Father Benedict, snapping you back into reality. 

You waited a moment before giving in, nodding hesitantly and sitting down directly opposite him. 

"So I was telling our new friend Ellis here about how much I value these sessions," he began, shooting you a knowing look that made you hide a smirk behind your hand. "I know it can be hard for a lot of people to talk about their grief, but with God on our side, I think we can continue to make some real progress here. And if not progress, perhaps we may be able to find some peace."  

You quickly learned why he hated these things. You'd been sitting for over an hour listening to Sandra talk about her late husband's death, how she'd fallen out with her sister-in-law over his will and still hadn't cleared out his side of the wardrobe. You'd heard John describe the first date he'd been on since his wife died, the rattle of Marion's rosary beads as she recounted finding her father's body, and you'd sat staring uncomfortably at the floor as the man next to you broke down in tears over the daughter he'd lost. 

It was bleak, harrowing, completely tragic. But the whole time, all you could think about was how painful the metal chair was, how not a soul had touched the water Father Benedict bought. Maybe you were just a bad person. 

"So I took your advice from the last session, Father, about keeping myself busy," said a woman called Louise, clearing her throat and sniffling into a tissue. "I've joined the choir group at the church, and I think it's helping. I've made some friends, we get coffee after practice. And it's nice to have a distraction, y'know, to not miss Phil for just a couple of hours here and there." 

Everyone nodded, with sympathetic smiles and quiet hums in agreement. 

"That's great, Louise," he replied. "I'm glad the church has been able to provide you with that distraction." He turned his attention back to everyone. "Would anyone else like to share?" 

There was silence. 

"Anyone? Remember, this is a safe space." 

Still silence. 

"Ellis…?" 

You looked across the circle at him. It was clear he was bored, drained, desperate for someone else to speak.

"I know grief is a difficult subject," he said.

"Erm…" You took a deep breath and blew it out as you searched for something to say. "I erm, well I got really into Sudoku in secondary school. Got so good I could solve a medium difficulty puzzle in under two minutes. I- well I actually wanted to do it for the talent show one year, but turns out it doesn't really translate well onstage." 

Everyone stared at you in confusion while Father Benedict stifled a laugh, rubbing his mouth with his fingers to hide his amusement. 

"Right, sorry, what I probably should have led with is that the Sudoku was really just a distraction; a way of not having to feel or think about grief. Grief for my older brother's death, for my parents splitting up, for the relationship I had with my sister before everything went to shit- sorry, I shouldn't swear. The point is, I've never been one to deal with things head-on, I just distract myself from them. Sort of like you, Louise, but not with choir... with... moderately challenging Japanese number puzzles."

The circle seemed to soften, shoulders relaxing, heads nodding with understanding despite them still finding you strange. But straight across from you was a set of burning blue eyes, boring into you like they wanted to learn everything, to know all of you from the inside out.

You stood at the table, looking down at the bottles of water that no one had touched. Behind you, the last couple of people were filing out of the room, thanking Father Benedict and wishing him well. 

You knew you were alone with him when you heard his footsteps approach and stop at your side, followed by a gentle nudge of his elbow against your arm. You looked up at him to see him shaking his head, a soft smile on his face. 

"What?" you asked. 

"I just- I've never met anyone like you before," he replied, almost in awe.  

"I've heard that a lot. Not usually in a positive context." 

He chuckled quietly, turning around to perch on the edge of the table. "Well I meant it as a compliment." 

"Thank you." You smiled. 

"Was that all true or were you just fucking with everyone?" 

"What? Me being a legend at Sudoku?" 

"Well, yeah, but I was talking more about the other stuff; brother, parents, sister…?" 

"Oh, yeah it was true," you said, picking up one of the bottles and beginning to fiddle with the label. "I was in a car accident with my brother when I was thirteen. He died, I didn't. Obviously. Anyway, he was a lot older than me, my sister is too, they were really close. So when he died she sort of resented me a bit, wished it was me instead, though she'd never admit it." 

"Wow, I'm sorry."

"It's fine. It was a long time ago. I only brought it up because it was the first thing that came to mind." 

"Yeah but still, it's…" he exhaled softly. "If you ever want to talk about it-"

"I'll make an appointment for a confession," you joked. 

"No appointment necessary," he said with a smile. "Anyway, you made my day a lot better than it was going to be. So thank you." 

"You're welcome. I had a good time too; I guess your indoctrination of me is working." 

"Jesus." He breathed out a laugh, looking over his shoulder before lowering his voice and leaning towards you. "You can't say I'm indoctrinating you."

"And you shouldn't take the lord's name in vain."

He pressed his tongue to the inside of his cheek, stifling a grin. "God, I'm a terrible priest."

"I hope so."

"Hm?"

"Nothing. I should get going anyway. Bye, Father." You put down the water and began making your way towards the door. 

"When will I see you again?"

You turned back to him. 

"I mean do you plan on coming back?" He cleared his throat. "Continuing your... journey here?"

You nodded, holding back a smile. 

Part 3: Faith

Tags: @evelynrosestuff

If you would like to be tagged in future chapters, please feel free to add yourself to the list here.

[jackrussle]

It's fruitless to bitch about women reading piles and piles of pulpy pornography, why is it suddenly a pressing matter when it's been the status quo since the 1920s is any1 asking that? Men do it too theyre just not making tiktoks about it, this is cringe but behind the bastards podcast just did a mini series on 50s-60s men's adventure magazines and it's impact on masculine aesthetic, lots of it is identical to what audiences read today albeit more bigoted and period specific. This has been and always will be the state of publishing as well as self publishing imo, idk how that will ever change, if or when it does its going to be bc the fans/authors are pushing against conservative, racist misogynistic, tropes and authors etc + natural evolution of acceptability + indie or progressive publishers putting out hits + self publish hits. Not bc of 'you bitches are pathetic illiterate pervert' tweets and articles. Also porn addiction idk why people love throwing that around when all porn addiction rehab=Christian business grift. I don't doubt that people have neurosis and develop unhealthy lifestyles around masturbation, sex, and porn but 'addiction'...lol. Cumming is not a substance we abuse. Imo if you want to bad mouth pulp you need to start reading it and find the stuff you like vs don't like bc if you aren't, if you have no idea what people are reading and have been reading for paper back entertainment for decades and decades, then it's moral panic shit. The girls talking about publishers re-publishing an adult fantasy book 6 times but with what are essentially variant covers and spines and pages are right though, that's nonsense lol

[redhillconfetti]

Blog Post 06-01-23

Confetti

Well, another week has come and gone, and as the working hours of Friday float away, my mind goes to think of Confetti fluttering on the wind.

The act of throwing confetti comes from Northern Italy in the middle ages, however it was far from pleasant, with anything from old leaves to rotten eggs launched at noble folk as they made their way through town. Over time this changed to the nobles tossing small sweets from their carriages at the common folk, many of which were Sugared Almonds or Coriander Seeds. The almonds are known as ‘Confetti’, and this is how the name came to be. In the late 1800s the first recorded instance of throwing paper confetti came into place in Paris on New Years Eve, and from there the tradition of throwing paper confetti during a celebration stuck.

Confetti is what started it all for Redhill Confetti. Ten years ago when I was planning my own wedding, I knew I wanted a vintage style theme for decor and such, and having seen some mass produced paper confetti online for a considerable price I knew I could not only make it myself, but do it much more economically. So armed with an old romance novel and a heart shaped hole punch, I spent many an evening in the run up to our big day simply punching paper hearts out of the torn sheets of the novel.

With the wedding over and the honeymoon a long and distant memory, we were still left with a large box of confetti, and rather than throw it away I bagged it up and put it on Ebay. Within a couple of days it had all sold, with people messaging me to ask if I had any more. An idea formed in the back of our minds and at that point the starting blocks of Redhill Confetti were set into place.

Our very first made-to-order product was actually Fifty Shades of Grey confetti, with the book series at the height of its popularity, people loved the idea of delicate small paper hearts fluttering down around them, only for Great Aunt Maud to spot a rather salacious word or two as they settle. With all our copies sourced second hand from charity shops or just given to us where people had heard of us through word of mouth, for a good 18 months we were inundated with those books, before expanding into other titles with everything from fairy tales to golf manuals. Sheet music was another very popular design, with this being very easy to get hold of and always looked beautiful with its aged paper.

When the time came to start a family, the business had been quietly ticking by in the background and in the summer of 2014 I quit my full time job as a logistics coordinator and made a go of the business full time. At the same time I discovered I was pregnant, and in a huge leap of faith I stuck to my plans and finished at the shipping company to work full time in the wedding business. This was by far the scariest but also the best decision I have ever made. With the time and clarity that came with that resignation, I was able to source a UK manufacturer for our Seed Paper, and found the oldest mechanised papermill in the world right here in the South of England.

The seed paper confetti was a huge hit. Handmade from recycled paper pulp, with wildflower seeds actually in the fibres of the paper, we soon found this product so popular we were sourcing at wholesale levels, all whilst hand punching every single piece individually. It certainly gives our arms a workout, though we haven’t yet considered any arm wrestling tournaments.

In 2018 we were offered the chance to stock Forget-me-not seed paper in addition to the wildflower, which has become very well known in the Funeral trade, with the idea of planting new life whilst remembering those that have passed being a timely reminder of how much we miss our loved ones. We now supply numerous charities and NHS Trusts with these seed paper shapes so they can include these small tokens in memorial boxes.

Throughout the pandemic with the restrictions in place for gatherings, many people came to us for seed paper memorial pieces, and I can now imagine there is a new crop of flowering blooms that appear in the memory of those no longer with us.

Now with the pandemic a long way behind us (hopefully), I look to the future to where we can develop confetti supply and what we can offer. At the tail end of 2022 I was lucky enough to be contacted by a local family whose music teacher Aunt had passed away after over 70 years of teaching piano to local families, and with that had amassed a huge collection of sheet music. They were going to simply send the whole lot to the recycling centre before someone put them in touch with me, and three full car loads later my workshop is now full floor to ceiling with music books dating back to the 1930s. With this we are looking to ramp up production of sheet music confetti, with new cutting tools arriving this week.

Well that’s it for another week, the new year settles into place with lots of exciting new things in the works for 2023.

Enjoy your weekends!

Simone

[bear-cubs-art-things]

OKI OKI YOUNG ZECHARIAH AU FANFIC GOO-

part 1 yeeeee!!!

★~🐸~★

It was a beautiful morning in Wartwood. The sun glowed warmly in the pale blue sky, clouds of shimmery white glided along wind currents seemingly so calm. The soil smelled of dew and previous rainfall, plants along every water-body edge they could find. Or really any patch of dirt. Along with the earthy warm smell of dirt, wildflowers and bakery goods filled the air. It truly smelled like home.

His home. Zechariah Nettles.

Zechariah Phineas Nettles. 11 years old. 5 feet 4 inches. Lives with his grandmother Gretchen Basil Nettles and mother Juniper Autumn Yggdrasil. Has no siblings. Loves to read, listen to music, on occasion draw on scraplets of paper. Does chores more frequently than he thinks necessary. Works on his household farm (who didn't have a farm in Wartwood?). Green-grey with dark brown eyes, with a pale blue tongue. Kind and often shy, doesn't talk much.

You get the idea.

Often Zechariah would sit on the garden wall, looking off into the vague and unknown distance. Staring at the summer clouds, lost in daydream thought. He was a nice kid, they said. Soft spoken and well mannered.

And, some might say, a perfect target.

Wartwood, though a kind small town a ways from the capital, had its fair share of pricks and assholes. Unfortunately, older teens had it good with picking on poor 'Riah. Everyday it was the same.

"Staring off at the stars, huh, dreamerboy?"

"He doesn't have any friends, so he talks to the plants!"

"More working less dreaming farmerboy!!"

"I bet his mom hates him so he has to do all the farmwork."

"What's so interesting about the damn sky, huh?!"

"I bet his thoughts are his only company, and that isn't much company is it now?"

And everyday, Zechariah continues on. So deep in thought their sneers fly right between his ears (whatever passes as his ears). But even now and then, it gets bad.

Really bad.

Zechariah was just walking home from the market one day; a bag of assorted groceries for his grandma in one arm, a loaf of bread in the other. He was just a kid running another errand, minding his own business. Three big kids walked up to him.

"Whatcha got there?" asked the biggest one. A newt of dark fuchsia and slit eyes. At least that's what they looked like.

"Hm?" Zechariah responded softly, quietly, being brought back to reality from his daydream.

"I said," the fuchsia newt raised his voice, "whatcha got there."

"Groceries," once again Zechariah responded softly. Light words in the wind. Faint.

"What kind of groceries?" another sneered. A blue frog, high-pitched voice, short and stocky. Wore a newsboys cap. Kinda silly looking.

"Dunno" 'Riah shrugged. "Gramma gave me a list."

"Y'know young tadpoles like you shouldn't really wander alone without an adult," the newt chimed back in. "It can be dangerous."

"How so?"

"You never know," the newt swaggered closer to Zechariah, malice glittering in his eyes, "who might want to hurt you."

Almost as if it were rehearsed, the third one - a big burly red toad with no neck and a wide build - slugged a punch at Zechariah. Sent him straight to the mud.

And his groceries, which he was more upset about than his own physical wellbeing.

The frog joined in, kicking at Zechariah's face. The toad was still throwing punches, but at his sides. The newt stood there, arms folded, smiling and watching.

Zechariah merely trying to cover his head with his sticks-for-arms. Which, must be mentioned, was another part of him that Amphibians made fun of him of.

And when they were done with him, after Zechariah was beaten to a froggy pulp, the newt finally bent down to talk to him.

"Listen closely, little runt," he hissed.

Zechariah uncovered his eyes, looked up to meet the newt's.

Glittering with malice. Hatred. The need to hurt.

"You aren't welcomed here. This is OUR territory."

"Hnnnggh-"

The newt snapped (in a sense) and threw Zechariah up by the collar, so that he was dangling a good 6 inches off the ground. Battered and bruised, lips swollen and bleeding. He looked terrible, awfully terrible. He shouldn't even be in this situation right now... how have things escalated so quickly?

"If I see your dingy ass walking these streets again I WILL kill you." the newt hissed, foaming at the mouth. Insane. Bloodthirsty.

"Hnnngggghh" was the only thing to escape Zechariah's numb face.

The newt then delivered the final blow.

A merciless throwdown into the mud. Face first, if you will. And he laughed. So did the other two.

And they walked away, still laughing.

Zechariah, unable to feel much through the pain coursing through his veins and muscles, laid there in the mud. Groceries spoiled, his Gramma's copper wasted, his body battered in a lifeless heap.

He sighed. Didn't cry. Sighed.

He wasn't much of a crier. And for his age, he should've been crying at that first punch.

He just laid there. Still and breathing. Coping with the immense pain those teens had inflicted on him.

"They're jerks, huh?" an unfamiliar voice spoke.

"Mm hm..." was his muffled reply, quiet.

"I'm sorry they did that to you," the voice said again. "Really."

Zechariah felt his body being turned on his side and brought up to a sitting-up position. It wasn't hard because he was so light and thin.

What he was faced with was a royal purple newt with chin-length black hair curly at the ends, with a apologetic grin on his face. His eyes will filled with innocent brightness, hiding the apparent knowledge that he knew something about those teens that beat up Zechariah.

"My brother can be a pain sometimes, and I always have to clean his mess," he sighed. Sat in front of 'Riah. "I'm truly sorry he did this to you. Wrong place wrong time I guess."

"Mm hm..."

Purple Newt stuck out his hand. "I'm Brocky by the way. Brocky Fronds. That pink newt was my older bro Rasphy. He's always been a no-good."

"Hmm..."

Brocky glanced a long glance in the direction where Rasphy last went. He snapped his head back to Zechariah.

"So anyways, moving on from that, what's your name?"

"Hmh?"

"I introduced myself, and you have yet to do the same," Brocky pointed out. "In case you didn't hear me the first time, I said my name was Brocky."

"I heard that-" Zechariah replied.

"Woah he does speak!" Brocky snarked almost immediately, sarcastically. Zechariah chuckled a bit.

Zechariah stuck his hand out to meet Brocky's, and shook it. "I'm Zechariah Nettles."

" 'The Skinny-Legged Frog' they call you," Brocky jerked his head in Rasphy's direction. "My bro and his friends, I mean."

"They call me lots of things," Zechariah shrugged. "I never paid any attention to that much."

"Well, I know what I'm gonna call you, if you're alright with it," Brocky declared, standing up.

"What?" Zechariah looked up at him, bracing for whatever horrible nickname Brocky was going to give him. Not like he cared much.

Instead, Brocky gave him a goofy grin, ear-to-ear (whatever passed as ears) all-tooth smile, and offered his hand to help Zechariah up.

"My friend."

[purplepapersinc]

The Versatility of Kraft and Tissue Paper for Creative Uses

Understanding the Appeal of White Kraft Paper

White Kraft paper for drawing paper and wrapping paper is a versatile material celebrated for its strength and aesthetic appeal. This type of paper, made from high-quality wood pulp, is lightweight yet durable, making it suitable for various uses. Artists and craft enthusiasts appreciate it as a blank canvas for drawings and sketches. Its smooth yet slightly textured surface accommodates pencils, pens, and markers beautifully, enhancing the creative process.

When it comes to wrapping, White Kraft paper offers an eco-friendly and minimalist alternative to traditional gift wraps. Its natural color allows it to serve as a base for creative decorations, like hand-drawn designs or embellishments with ribbons and twine. Whether wrapping gifts for special occasions or packaging handmade goods, this paper combines practicality and charm.

Crafting Memorable Gifts with Gift Tissue Paper

Gift Tissue Paper for gift bags is a staple in the world of gift-giving. Its soft, delicate texture makes it perfect for adding an elegant touch to any present. Whether you're filling a gift bag, wrapping a fragile item, or layering it inside a box, tissue paper provides a polished and sophisticated finish.

In addition to its aesthetic benefits, Gift Tissue Paper serves a practical purpose. It cushions and protects delicate items, ensuring they remain safe during transport. Its lightweight nature and easy foldability make it a favorite among gift wrappers who want to create an impactful presentation with minimal effort.

Why Choose White Kraft Paper for Creative Projects

Beyond its use as drawing paper and wrapping paper, White Kraft paper is ideal for DIY enthusiasts and educators. Children and adults alike can use it for craft projects, such as creating custom posters, banners, or collages. Its durability ensures that even intricate designs hold up well over time.

For businesses, White Kraft paper serves as an excellent medium for branding. Restaurants often use it as menu paper, while boutiques incorporate it for eco-friendly product packaging. The versatility of this material is unmatched, making it an invaluable tool for various applications.

Enhancing Celebrations with Gift Tissue Paper

Gift-giving is an art, and Gift Tissue Paper for gift bags elevates this tradition to new heights. Available in a variety of colors and patterns, it allows you to personalize gifts to match any occasion. Use vibrant hues for birthdays, soft pastels for baby showers, or metallic shades for holidays and anniversaries.

Its lightweight and foldable properties make it easy to shape into decorative accents, such as flowers or rosettes, further enhancing the gift’s appeal. For those who value presentation, tissue paper is an essential addition to their gift-wrapping toolkit.

Sustainability and Eco-Friendly Choices

As the world shifts towards more sustainable practices, both White Kraft paper and Gift Tissue Paper are gaining popularity for their eco-friendly attributes. White Kraft paper is biodegradable and recyclable, making it an excellent choice for environmentally conscious consumers. Its versatility ensures that you can use it for multiple purposes before recycling it, reducing waste.

Similarly, many brands now offer Gift Tissue Paper made from recycled materials. This means that adding a touch of elegance to your gift doesn’t have to come at the expense of the planet. By choosing these materials, you contribute to a greener future while enjoying their aesthetic and functional benefits.

Creative Ideas for Using White Kraft and Gift Tissue Paper

For artists, White Kraft paper can be transformed into hand-painted wrapping sheets, custom banners, or even wall art. For crafters, it can be folded into origami shapes or used as the base for scrapbooking projects. The paper’s simplicity and durability make it a blank slate for limitless creativity.

On the other hand, Gift Tissue Paper can be used to craft paper flowers, pom-poms, or party decorations. When layered and arranged creatively, it can serve as a beautiful backdrop for events or as part of themed décor. Whether you’re designing an elegant wedding table or preparing a birthday surprise, tissue paper adds a touch of whimsy and refinement.

[netsolwatersblog]

Who Is The Best Sewage Treatment Plant Manufacturer In Faridabad ?

Situated in the heart of Indian the North, Faridabad is a significant industrial manufacturing city. Pulp & paper mills, chemical plants, & textile mills are some of the major heavy industries present here, in addition to various medium & small-sized businesses that produce plastic goods, soaps, & other items.

The natural drains & waterways surrounding Faridabad have been severely contaminated for decades by the untreated sewage discharge from these companies & houses. Research has revealed that these bodies of water contain hazardous amounts of pollutants such as total dissolved solids, color, chloride, sulfates, & biochemical oxygen demand, rendering the water unsafe for any human utilization.

Thus, Faridabad urgently needs to develop cutting-edge wastewater treatment systems.

Assigning of Sewage Treatment Plant Manufacturer In Faridabad.

Based on current estimations, the Sewage treatment sets or set-up capacity & efficacy are insufficient to meet or satisfy the regulatory discharge limits for treating large quantities of complicated outgoing effluentwater.

Less than 60% of residences in the city are linked to the sewer lines, indicating a poor level of sewage network connectivity. Groundwater gets contaminated when the remaining raw sewage is dumped into landfills & adjacent bodies of water.

Putting into practice scientifically planned STPs is the most important action Faridabad can take right now to reduce its excessive water pollution & maintain both industrial & residential expansion in the years to come.

Key role of Netsol Water in Sewage Treatment Plant functioning

Netsol Water, an emerging firm in North India with the most easily adaptable Sewage Treatment Plant Manufacturer In Faridabad, that has the potential to significantly contribute to the provision of practical & effective wastewater treatment solutions to Faridabad's municipality & industry sectors.

With the use of cutting-edge trending technology, Netsol Water specializes in developing decentralized, compact STP that can overcome the constraints imposed by limited acreage, inadequate drainage infrastructure, & fluctuations in incoming sewage quality & flow rates.

Plans for Implementation in the Faridabad Area

through means of diverse analysis over population & industrial growth estimates, the following Sewage Treatment Plant Manufacturer plans may be developed especially for Faridabad:

Common STP based on clusters: On the periphery of Faridabad, related small & medium-sized enterprises such as textile, dying, & plastic products manufacture can establish industrial parks or group clusters.

With a collecting tank & an underground sewage network, Netsol Water may set up Sewage Treatment Plants with a capacity of 1KLD to 100MLD. These plants would transport wastewater from each factory to the STP for treatment prior to ultimate discharge following pollution board regulations. Individual units save money on infrastructure as a result.

Consecutive Wastewater or Sewage Treatment: Larger chemical, pulp & paper factories must implement the idea of sequential Sewage treatment, which divides the plant's sewage water streams into ports with high & low COD levels.

Primary & secondary biological treatments are applied to the high COD fraction to eliminate organics and recycle treated water for any utilization in subsequent processes. Before being discharged following all regulations, the extra Low COD effluent is treated utilizing a tertiary process such as RO or ultrafiltration to get rid of solids, salts, & trace amounts of harmful contaminants.

Upgrading Existing STPs: A considerable number of Faridabad's older, underperforming industrial STPs may be either fully reconstructed with a bigger treatment capacity by Netsol Water's technical team to match the increasing effluent flow rates & characteristics, or retrofitted with new equipment.

When Zero Liquid Discharge Plants modules with Multiple Effect Evaporators & Agitated Thin Film Dryers are added, it becomes possible to recover dry soluble salts & high-quality distilled water from effluents that are challenging to handle.

Decentralized Sewage Treatment Plants for residential apartments & colonies are necessary due to Faridabad's growing urban population. These plants should be established close to the source of sewage. Compact, skid-mounted STP systems based on SBR & MBBR technologies are offered by Netsol Water.

Rather of relying on extensive sewer networks to treat sewage, these ready-to-install STPs may be installed close to big residential flats, housing societies, & urban villages.

Tertiary Treatment for Reutilize: To produce permeate quality that satisfies recycled water quality standards for utilizations like horticulture, agriculture, construction, etc., the secondary treated sewage from STPs can be further polished using tertiary membrane filters like Ultrafiltration.

O&M: Netsol Water provides full operation & maintenance responsibility for the Sewage Treatment Plant Manufacturer in Faridabad. This includes providing process chemicals, yearly maintenance contracts, equipment health checks, periodic plant audits, laboratory testing, & operator training.

This enables unsupervised treatment systems to operate, freeing up industrial units & civic organizations to concentrate on their primary commercial Industries.

Conclusion

Faridabad needs an integrated strategy that combines public involvement, sustainable engineering solutions, & legislative interventions to handle the environmental disaster brought on by its unchecked development.

As a locally owned, cutting-edge wastewater treatment system manufacturer in North India, Netsol Water offers comprehensive, turnkey solutions for establishing specialized sewage treatment plant manufacturer in Faridabad region following site-specific requirements & legal requirements.

[favouritefab-blog]

How to Start a Sanitary Pad Business

Starting a sanitary pad business can be a rewarding venture, especially given the increasing awareness of menstrual hygiene and the demand for affordable and quality sanitary products. Here's a step-by-step guide to help you get started:

1. Market Research

Understand the Market: Research the demand for sanitary pads in your target area. Identify your potential customers, competitors, and market trends.

Identify Niche: Decide whether you want to focus on regular pads, organic or biodegradable pads, or premium quality products. Understanding your niche will help shape your business plan.

2. Business Plan

Executive Summary: Outline your business idea, mission, and vision. Include your business goals and objectives.

Market Analysis: Detail your market research, target audience, and competitive analysis.

Product Line: Describe the types of sanitary pads you plan to produce, including sizes, absorption levels, and materials.

Marketing and Sales Strategy: Plan how you will promote and sell your products. Consider both online and offline channels.

Financial Projections: Estimate your startup costs, operational expenses, pricing strategy, and profit margins.

3. Legal Requirements

Business Registration: Register your business with the appropriate government authorities. Choose a business structure (e.g., sole proprietorship, partnership, or company).

Licenses and Permits: Obtain the necessary licenses and permits to manufacture and sell sanitary pads.

Health and Safety Standards: Ensure compliance with local health and safety regulations for manufacturing sanitary products.

4. Location and Setup

Manufacturing Unit: Find a suitable location for your manufacturing unit. The space should be large enough to accommodate machinery, raw materials, and storage.

Machinery and Equipment: Invest in sanitary pad manufacturing machines, such as pulp molding machines, sealing machines, and packing machines.

Raw Materials: Source quality raw materials like absorbent paper, non-woven fabric, polyethylene film, SAP (Super Absorbent Polymer), and adhesive.

5. Product Development

Prototyping: Develop prototypes of your sanitary pads to test for comfort, absorbency, and durability.

Quality Control: Establish a quality control process to ensure your products meet industry standards.

Packaging: Design attractive and informative packaging that reflects your brand and complies with regulatory requirements.

6. Branding and Marketing

Brand Identity: Create a brand name, logo, and tagline that resonate with your target audience.

Digital Marketing: Build an online presence through a website, social media, and e-commerce platforms. Use SEO, content marketing, and social media ads to reach potential customers.

Offline Marketing: Consider traditional marketing methods like print ads, flyers, and partnerships with local retailers.

Distribution Channels: Decide on your distribution strategy. You can sell directly to consumers online, through retail stores, or partner with distributors.

7. Sales and Distribution

Pricing Strategy: Set competitive prices that cover your costs and provide a reasonable profit margin.

Retail Partnerships: Approach pharmacies, supermarkets, and convenience stores to stock your sanitary pads.

Online Sales: Set up an e-commerce platform or list your products on existing online marketplaces.

8. Customer Feedback and Improvement

Gather Feedback: Encourage customers to provide feedback on your products. Use this feedback to improve product quality and customer satisfaction.

Continuous Improvement: Keep innovating and improving your products to stay ahead of competitors and meet changing customer needs.

9. Scaling Up

Expand Product Range: Consider expanding your product line to include other menstrual hygiene products like tampons, panty liners, or menstrual cups.

Geographical Expansion: Expand your business to new markets or regions with high demand.

Partnerships: Form strategic partnerships with NGOs, healthcare providers, or government programs to increase your reach and impact.

10. Financial Management

Budgeting: Keep track of your expenses and revenue. Ensure you have enough cash flow to sustain your operations.

Funding Options: Explore funding options like business loans, grants, or investors to finance your business expansion.

11. Stay Updated with Industry Trends

Innovation: Keep an eye on industry trends, new technologies, and changing consumer preferences. Innovate your products to meet the evolving needs of your customers.

Sustainability: Consider incorporating sustainable practices in your production process, such as using biodegradable materials or reducing waste.

12. Networking and Support

Join Industry Associations: Become a member of industry associations or networks to stay informed about the latest developments and opportunities in the sanitary pad market.

Mentorship: Seek guidance from experienced entrepreneurs or industry experts to navigate challenges and grow your business.

Starting a sanitary pad business requires careful planning, attention to detail, and a commitment to quality and customer satisfaction. With the right approach, you can build a successful and impactful business that contributes to menstrual hygiene and women's health.

[tsasocial]

re.solution wins ACHEMA Start-up Award 2024

The winner of the ACHEMA Start-up Award 2024 is re.solution. The start-up recycles textiles containing polyester using a chemical process with renewable energy and low water and chemical consumption. With their innovation and business plan, the Aachen-based founders prevailed against nine other finalists.

For the fourth time, DECHEMA, High-Tech Gründerfonds and Business Angels FrankfurtRheinMain were looking for entrepreneurial scientists and founders with an affinity for technology. The fact that start-ups are now an integral part of the process industry was demonstrated not only by the number and quality of the applications, but also by the range of innovations on which the start-ups are based. This clearly reflects the general industry trends of sustainability and digitalization.

This also applies to the winning start-up: re.solution was founded at RWTH Aachen University in 2023 and aims to tackle the growing mountains of used textiles with chemical recycling.

The proprietary process runs on renewable energy and thus achieves a lower carbon footprint while consuming less chemicals and water in comparison with similar technologies. It is further designed to overcome textile-specific recycling challenges like the recycling of fibre blends and the removal of impurities. Due to its robustness and a high product quality, the process is economically competitive compared to polyester’s fossil route. The long-term ambition is to develop and operate plants at an industrial scale.

The jury was impressed by re.solution's innovative idea, a scalable process and a solid business plan. However, the selection was not easy, as the finalists were very close to each other in the evaluation. They offer an interesting portfolio for investors and potential industrial partners:

Biosimo AG wants to drive the transformation of the chemical industry towards greater sustainability with basic chemicals made from renewable raw materials.

ChemInnovation has developed the AI model METIS. It enables the automated structural elucidation of unknown molecules based on mass spectra.

co2ol catalyst uses a robust catalyst to produce methanol from CO2 - even from sources that could previously only be used with additional purification stages.

eco:fibr has developed an extraction process with which pulp for the paper and cardboard industry can be obtained from pineapple plant residues.

Graph-Co offers the digitization and migration of technical flow charts for the process industry under the brand name Graph-ID.

Inline Process Solutions GmbH analyzes particle flows in plants inline with the help of image-optical AI-based sensor technology.

LABMaiTE GmbH fully automatically optimizes the culture media for fermentative bioprocesses and thus accelerates their development.

Nanolope offers versatile heat storage solutions based on a phase change material.

PHABIOC develops innovative tools, microplates and analyzers for screening on a small scale and with a high throughput rate in pharmaceuticals and biotechnology.

Since 2015, the ACHEMA Start-up Award is sponsored every three years by DECHEMA Gesellschaft für Chemische Technik und Biotechnologie e.V., DECHEMA Ausstellungs-GmbH, Business Angels FrankfurtRheinMain e.V. and High-Tech Gründerfonds. The ACHEMA Start-up Award is also supported by the German Chemical Society (GDCh), the Association of German Engineers (VDI), the German Chemical Industry Association (VCI), the AiF InnovatorsNet, BCNP Consultants, the Business Angels Network Germany and the Forum Startup Chemie.

If you want to get to know the ten start-ups in person, you have the opportunity to do so in the Start-up Area (Hall 6.0) at ACHEMA until June 14, 2024.

[avinash03]

Optimize Your Presence: Writing & Printing Exporter from India

The quality of paper is crucial when it comes to writing and printing. The appropriate paper may make all the difference, whether you’re a writer putting down your ideas, a printer creating eye-catching brochures, or an artist creating stunning prints. The smooth surface-sized writing and printing paper is one such high-end choice that is well-known for its remarkable attributes and broad range of uses.

What is Writing and Printing Paper with a Smooth Surface?

Writing and printing paper with a smooth surface is a specialty kind that is distinguished by its superior quality and remarkable attributes. The paper’s unique brightness and clarity are a result of its construction from high brilliant pulp. This kind of paper is carefully sized, which means it goes through a particular process to provide a uniform, smooth surface that improves writing and printing.

Important attributes and advantages

High Clarity and Brightness: The production procedure guarantees the paper’s stunning white color by using highly bright pulp. This brightness gives printed materials a sharp, clear appearance and improves the legibility of printed text by bringing colors to life.

Smooth Surface: The paper has a smooth finish from the surface-sizing treatment, which makes it perfect for writing and printing. This smoothness ensures that ink is absorbed evenly, preventing smudging and bleeding, which is crucial for high-quality prints and legible handwriting.

Great Tensile Strength: This paper’s great tensile strength is one of its most notable qualities. This indicates that the paper is strong and long-lasting, able to bear the pressures of rapid printing without breaking or sustaining damage. This feature is especially crucial for multi-color printing, where accuracy and dependability are essential.

Versatility in Use: Writing and printing paper with a smooth surface is appropriate for a range of uses. It is a preferred option for numerous industries due to its versatility, which ranges from workplace documents and marketing materials to artistic prints and educational textbooks.

Uses for Paper with a Smooth Surface and Size

High-Speed Multi-Color Printing: This paper is a great option for commercial printing companies since it can easily handle high-speed, multi-color printing. The glossy surface is perfect for printing bright, clear images on brochures, flyers, and other marketing materials.

Professional Writing: Because of its silky texture, which makes writing fun, writers and professionals frequently use this paper. The premium surface of the paper ensures clarity and neatness whether writing business reports, taking notes, or writing letters.

Artistic Creations: The paper’s capacity to highlight minute details and brilliant colors is advantageous for artists and designers. For prints, drawings, and other artistic projects requiring accuracy and meticulous attention to detail, it’s ideal.

Educational Materials: The paper’s sturdiness and print quality make it a dependable option for textbooks, workbooks, and other educational materials. It guarantees that instructional materials are provided understandably and hold up well with repeated use.

Exporter of Writing and Printing Papers from India

India has emerged as a significant player in the global paper industry, particularly in the export of high-quality writing and printing paper. Indian exporters are known for delivering premium smooth surface-sized writing and printing paper to various international markets. These exporters leverage advanced manufacturing techniques and high bright pulp to produce paper that meets international standards of quality and performance.

Conclusion

Writing and printing paper with a smooth surface is evidence of the advancements in paper making technologies. Its exceptional brightness, silky texture, and long life make it an excellent option for a range of uses, from regular writing to business printing. This paper will satisfy your needs with its outstanding quality and performance, whether you’re hoping to produce printed goods of the highest caliber or are just looking for a premium writing experience.

The paper you choose for your printed goods can have a big impact on how they are received in a world where first impressions count. Selecting writing and printing paper with a smooth surface size makes sure that your work is readable and leaves a lasting impression of excellence and professionalism. As a reliable writing & printing exporter from India, Indian manufacturers continue to supply the global market with high-quality paper that caters to diverse needs and applications.

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Sustainable Packaging: A study into the functions of poultry pulp and cardboard egg cartons.

In the modern world, the negative impact of packaging materials on the environment is becoming more and more noticeable, so there is a great need for protective and decorative solutions that meet environmental requirements while fulfilling their objectives. The company named as Poultry Cartons which is one of the most prominent organizations to provide these vital packaging materials and goods proves that this type of cartons is all about innovations.

Why You Should Ensure That You Use Recyclable Egg Cartons

Regarding the history of egg cartons it should be said that the first examples of them appeared in the early century when the problem of damage during transportation was discovered. After this, technology coupled with a better variation has enhanced the production of the egg cartons which have led to a shift of pulps, cardboard among others. None of these materials only provide better protection but also share a similar perspective with the world which is to go green.

Pulp Egg Cartons: The idea of a natural choice relates to Balding on several levels and is an essential element of this concept.

Pulp egg cartons are made from molded pulp, which is essentially manufactured paper or cardboard that has been subjected to a pulping process. This material is highly sought due to its biodegradability and composability which this makes the product suitable for those who are conscience about the environment or business people who would love to reduce their impact of their products on the environment.

Poultry Cartons: As leaders in forward-thinking innovations, it makes freight solutions sustainable packaging pioneers.

Poultry Cartons stands as an industry pioneer in the egg packaging business, serving clientele with its expertise in both throw and pencil product types. Strong principle of operations in line with sustainable, quality and innovations has delivered the company from rivals.

Sustainable Practices: This paper will explore the responsibilities of Poultry Cartons and the efforts it is willing to undertake in order to uphold environmental sustainability. Source materials responsibly and the use of recycled paper products to reduce the ecological pattern and promote recycles.

Quality and Innovation: It most closely invests in research so as to improve on the level of protection offered by cartons as well as the roles they perform. Some of them are enhanced designs for shock absorption, and flexibility in the options forwarded to meet the needs of individual clients.

Customer Satisfaction: Since Poultry Cartons utilizes and produces various goods and supplies for its customers – ranging from small local farmers to large scale retailers – it realizes that all of these entities require different strategies and supplies. Auburn has a package offering that is flexible enough to accommodate different egg sizes or a large number of eggs at once to meet a specific order requirement.

All in all, it clearly underlined the idea that pulp and cardboard egg cartons play an important role in meeting sustainable packaging equipments needs. So, with companies like Poultry Cartons in the forefront, much can be expected from the future egg packaging that will guarantee eggs a safe and sustainable way of being transported. Their commitment with sustainability, innovations, and customer service ensures that these cartons will remain relevant in consumers’ and businesses’ demand, as well as preserving our earth.

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ARCH ENEMY Shares Music Video For New Single 'Liars & Thieves'

Swedish/Canadian/American extreme metal titans ARCH ENEMY have unveiled their latest single, "Liars & Thieves", from their upcoming album "Blood Dynasty". The LP announcement and the start of the pre-order phase coincided with the beginning of ARCH ENEMY's European co-headline tour, "Rising From The North", with IN FLAMES on October 3 in Glasgow.

Throughout the tour, "Liars & Thieves" has already been performed live, as the band teased the release of the new single on stage. Now, with the release of the digital single, fans worldwide can finally experience the track.

"Liars & Thieves" delivers a powerful message of resilience and inner struggle, wrapped in fierce melodic death metal with intense lyrics about battling deception and enduring hardship.

"Our second single from 'Blood Dynasty' is here," says ARCH ENEMY guitarist Michael Amott. "'Liars & Thieves' is a fast, heavy-hitting track, with a melody that's been getting stuck in people's heads — don't say I didn't warn you! We've been playing it live recently, and it's been an absolute beast in the pit. Now, it's time to check out the studio cut!"

He continues: "The accompanying video has been captured out here on our ongoing European tour by director Jens De Vos, highlighting the passion and metal madness of these amazing shows where fans and band are one!"

"Liars & Thieves" was mixed by Jens Bogren and mastered by Tony Lindgren at Fascination Street Studios.

ARCH ENEMY's twelfth studio album, "Blood Dynasty" will arrive on March 28, 2025 via Century Media Records.

Amott previously stated about the effort: "This new album pushes the boundaries of what we've done before — it's everything you've come to expect from this band, and then some! We can't wait for you to hear it and feel the energy we've poured into every track. Welcome to the 'Blood Dynasty'!"

"Blood Dynasty" track listing:

01. Dream Stealer 02. Illuminate the Path 03. March Of the Miscreants 04. A Million Suns 05. Don't Look Down 06. Presage 07. Blood Dynasty 08. Paper Tiger 09. Vivre Libre 10. The Pendulum 11. Liars & Thieves

Next to the limited deluxe editions that feature two exclusive bonus tracks, fans can direct their attention to the limited liquid blood vinyl that is exclusively available in the band stores and limited to 666 copies.

"Dream Stealer" marked ARCH ENEMY's first new music since the release of the "Deceivers" album, which came out in August 2022.

"Dream Stealer" was mixed by Jens Bogren and mastered by Tony Lindgren at Fascination Street Studios. The video was directed and produced by Patric Ullaeus.

Two months ago, Amott told Pulp Magazine about "Dream Stealer" and ARCH ENEMY's plans for new music: "We've been staying busy for sure and are really focused on writing and recording new stuff in between the touring we're doing. I'm kind of always coming up with new musical and lyrical ideas though — I just keep going as it's what I enjoy doing anyway. Making music is a natural process, and it's pretty much a daily thing, so it can be hard to pinpoint exactly when everything was conceived. I do, however, actually remember that the initial seed for 'Dream Stealer' was written during a songwriting session I did with Daniel [Erlandsson, drums] in Los Angeles, California, two years ago, and then it's been rearranged and updated a lot till it reached its final state that you're now hearing."

Asked if it was a conscious decision to go back to the "classic ARCH ENEMY" direction and approach with "Dream Stealer", Amott said: "I've seen some seriously great feedback from the fans, and that's always very encouraging, of course. Personally, I don't know if I’d necessarily say 'Dream Stealer' is a throwback to the sound of the past, but I get what they mean — the song has the energy and speed that is very exciting and infectious. Maybe there is a hint of vintage ARCH ENEMY in there, and why not? I'm looking forward to playing it live on stage — I think it is going to be intense as hell."

ARCH ENEMY played its first concert with new guitarist Joey Concepcion on April 24 at Musinsa Garage in Seoul, South Korea. The show was part of ARCH ENEMY's 2024 Asian tour.

Last December, ARCH ENEMY announced that it had "amicably" parted ways with longtime guitarist Jeff Loomis.

Jeff, who was the main songwriter in his previous group, NEVERMORE, joined ARCH ENEMY in late 2014, but was not involved in the writing for the latter act's last two albums, 2017's "Will To Power" and the aforementioned "Deceivers".

Photo credit: Katja Kuhl