#Cigarette Tube Making Machine

[marsons-group]

Revolutionizing Tobacco Industry: The Cigarette Tube Making Machine

In the ever-evolving landscape of the tobacco industry, innovation plays a pivotal role in meeting consumer demands and enhancing production efficiency. Among the latest advancements, the cigarette tube making machine stands out as a game-changer, revolutionizing the manufacturing process and setting new standards for quality and productivity.

Understanding the Cigarette Tube Making Machine

The cigarette tube making machine is a sophisticated piece of equipment designed to automate the production of cigarette tubes, which are an integral component of the modern cigarette. These machines are engineered to handle various aspects of tube production, including rolling, filling, and sealing, with precision and speed.

How It Works

At its core, the cigarette tube making machine operates through a series of intricate mechanisms that work seamlessly together to produce consistent and high-quality cigarette tubes. Here's a simplified breakdown of the process:

Tube Formation: The machine starts by feeding a continuous strip of cigarette paper into its system. This paper is then shaped and rolled to form individual tubes of the desired size and specifications.

Filling: Once the tubes are formed, the machine moves on to the filling stage, where tobacco is accurately dispensed into each tube. This process ensures uniformity in the amount of tobacco contained within each cigarette, contributing to a consistent smoking experience for consumers.

Sealing: After filling, the machine seals the open ends of the tubes to prevent any tobacco from spilling out. This step is crucial for maintaining the integrity of the cigarettes and ensuring they are ready for packaging and distribution.

Quality Control: Throughout the entire process, the machine incorporates advanced sensors and monitoring systems to ensure the quality and integrity of the finished products. Any deviations or irregularities are promptly detected and addressed, minimizing waste and maximizing efficiency.

Benefits of Cigarette Tube Making Machines

The adoption of cigarette tube making machines offers several notable benefits for manufacturers:

Increased Efficiency: By automating key aspects of the production process, these machines significantly reduce the need for manual labor, thereby increasing overall efficiency and output.

Improved Quality: The precision and consistency achieved by these machines result in higher-quality cigarette tubes that meet strict industry standards and consumer expectations.

Cost Savings: While the initial investment in a cigarette tube making machine may be substantial, the long-term cost savings through reduced labor and increased productivity make it a worthwhile investment for manufacturers.

Versatility: These machines are designed to accommodate various sizes and types of cigarette tubes, providing manufacturers with the flexibility to adapt to changing market demands.

The Future of Tobacco Manufacturing

As technology continues to advance, we can expect further innovations in the field of tobacco manufacturing, with cigarette tube making machines playing a central role in driving efficiency, quality, and sustainability within the industry. By embracing these advancements, manufacturers can stay ahead of the curve and meet the evolving needs of consumers worldwide.

In conclusion, the cigarette tube making machine represents a significant advancement in tobacco manufacturing, offering a host of benefits for manufacturers seeking to enhance their production processes. With its ability to automate and streamline tube production while ensuring consistency and quality, this technology is poised to shape the future of the tobacco industry for years to come.

[pascaloverx]

HAUNTED

Summary: You awaken from a two-year coma to find that Detective Lois has been eagerly awaiting your recovery, believing you might have witnessed something crucial to catching a serial killer. What you didn’t expect is to learn that she suspects your doctor of being the murderer—and even more shockingly, it appears that you are married to him. Now, you must uncover your lost memories and find out who Charlie Mayhew truly is to you.

Author's Note: Yes, I'm writing another fanfic featuring Nicholas Alexander Chavez’s character from Grotesquerie. The characters belong to the universe created by Ryan Murphy in the series Grotesquerie (2024). This fanfic will include violence, strong language, and adult content. It will portray the character Charlie Mayhew as a doctor. I hope you enjoy the fanfic, but there's nothing certain about its future. If there's no interest, unfortunately, I will be abandoning the idea.

AO3 LINK ONE

© credits for the owners of the pictures used. they don't belong to me. credit is not mine for the pictures.

PREVIEW

Strange noises surround you, and the brightness stings your eyes, but you want to wake up. In the distance, you hear a woman shouting for a nurse to come help. Is she a relative? A friend? You wish you knew. You feel connected to machines, surrounded by tubes, which nearly makes you gag. “Don’t pull on any of the wires attached to you. A nurse will be here to help you. My name is Lois Tryon. Detective Lois Tryon.” The woman speaks, trying to sound gentle but coming off as forced. She smells of cigarettes and alcohol. You remain silent, motionless. You don’t want to die—even though you don’t even know who you are.

"How long have I been here, Detective Tryon?" you murmur with some difficulty. There might be other important questions, but right now, this is the only one you need answered.

"About two years," she says, sounding almost excited about your recovery. A medical team enters your hospital room, adjusting and checking your body as if you were a doll—a sensation that’s starting to make you feel nauseous. The detective vanishes amidst the medical team as they check your reflexes, vital signs, temperature, and run several other clinical tests that will apparently tell them how you’ve woken up and if you’re truly all right.

Everything felt so secretive, with nurses whispering as if you couldn’t hear them. Two doctors were even debating whether they should tell you something or not. They decided to wait for Dr. Mayhew, whoever he might be. After a while, you drifted off to sleep, still waiting for them to explain what was going on. You had the same dream as before—a strikingly attractive man dressed as a priest making you kneel, asking for forgiveness for some unnamed sin. What stood out was how he always touched your face gently, saying that if you truly sought forgiveness for what you had done, you would have to accept your punishment. Then you would start taking off your clothes for him. The man dressed as a priest would then put you between his legs and spank you. He used to ask if you would be a good girl for him, and when you answered; he would whisper to you to take responsibility for what you did. And then you found yourself surrounded by blood and corpses, like a nightmare.

This time, you opened your eyes, letting out an almost desperate cry. There are fewer tubes attached to you, fewer wires surrounding you. There’s also a doctor—a different one from those who tended to you before. He’s lying back, asleep in a chair that doesn’t look at all comfortable. You wonder if it’s common for doctors to fall asleep beside their patients or if you’re getting special treatment due to the time you’ve been unconscious. The doctor is strikingly handsome. He looks exhausted, with dark circles under his eyes and his breathing deep and steady. Perhaps that’s why he didn’t wake at your cry.

You try to get up, nearly falling back at the sudden motion, but on the second attempt, you manage with some difficulty. Unsteady, you grab one of the spare blankets at the foot of your hospital bed and gently drape it over him. But there’s something peculiar—you feel as if you’ve seen him before. You move closer, laying your fingers lightly on the warm skin of his hand. His hair falls messily over his face, obscuring your view. Then you recognize him: the slightly wicked priest from your dreams, too alluring to be a saint, who meted out your penance. Yet something within you stirs, as if he holds a deeper meaning, something that seduces and captivates you. You touch the scar on his forehead, feeling a surge of electricity ripple through your body.

Then he grasps your hand, pulling you down onto his lap, where you land anyway. You’re silent for a moment, staring at him. “You used to brush my hair away from my face whenever you wanted to tell me something embarrassing,” he says, his voice close to yours, a sly smile playing on his lips as he settles you in his lap. “You’d say that if you focused on my scar, you wouldn’t feel so shy talking to me.” You’re surprised, but you don’t move. Something about being close to him feels familiar, leaving your body unresponsive in his presence.

“I imagine you don’t speak like that to all your patients, Doctor…” you say, trying to keep a serious tone as you study the face of the man whose lap you’re seated on. He chuckles, clearly amused. “Dr. Mayhew to some, Charlie to others. But to you, I’m husband.”

The words startle you, and you jump off his lap, steadying yourself on the hospital bed. “I’m sorry, what did you just say?” you ask, bewildered. You’re married?

“I know this might be difficult to understand, but we are married. Don’t feel pressured to remember—it’s all right…” he murmurs, rising from the chair and moving toward you. His calm tone, almost as if he’s trying to make you feel safe, is surprisingly comforting. Your gaze falls to his hands as they reach out to you, but you instinctively move to the opposite side of the bed.

“I’m sorry, but there must be some mistake. You can’t be married to me. Your face looks like it stepped right out of a magazine. I can barely believe you’re a doctor, let alone my husband. If this is a joke, know that it’s unfair to mock someone who doesn’t even know her own name,” you say, sounding slightly indignant. But honestly, what are the odds he’s really your husband?

Dr. Mayhew laughs, a sound both frustrated and enchanted. He runs a hand through his hair as if searching for patience. “It’s funny you’d say that. When we first met, you called me a ‘Ken wannabe.’ Later, you swore you hadn’t fallen for me because of my looks. When you remember that, I’ll be sure to remind you of it,” he says, his gaze deep and searching, as if his eyes are speaking more than his words.

“If you’re my husband, then tell me something only you would know about me!” you exclaim before he can come any closer. Your hands are trembling—whether from the intensity of his stare or some other reason, you’re not sure.

"You like to fuck when you're stressed, usually you prefer me to fuck you from behind but when you're pissed off, you bounce on me like there's no tomorrow. You don't like to feel pressure so I personally think you married me not because I'm handsome but because I let you be in charge. When I asked you to marry me, you broke up with me. You thought I was rushing things, and you couldn't stand the idea of not being able to give me children. You had two cats when you were younger and you named them 'Beelzebub' and 'Crowley' because your mother was very religious and you never liked her." He seems sincere, even if he's embarrassing you on purpose. It's obvious from the way he talks about your sex life, which you can't even confirm.

“Hold on, Doctor. We both know the sexual details were unnecessary. If I can’t remember other parts of my life, am I really going to remember what our… sex life was like?” you say, feeling your cheeks flush with embarrassment. Your hands are beginning to sweat, but you don’t break eye contact with Dr. Mayhew.

“Actually, of all the details I’ve shared, those are the only ones we can test right now,” he says, closing in on you with surprising speed. His gaze is fixed on you, predatory and intent, as though you’re his prey. Strangely, you feel no embarrassment—just a stirring curiosity to uncover this for yourself.

“Do you often suggest casually sleeping with your patients? We are in your workplace, after all,” you say, feigning reprimand, though part of you wonders if he’s ever done this here before.

“I only suggest it to those who are married to me. And honestly,” he says, drawing closer to you, his voice dropping to a whisper, “we’ve done far worse in both our workplaces.” He nods between himself and you, hinting at shared memories. There’s a tension in the air, something almost tangible. You swallow hard, unsure why his closeness doesn’t make you uncomfortable—but rather feels strangely familiar.

“You sound extremely dangerous saying things like that,” you murmur, holding Dr. Mayhew’s gaze as if daring him. For a moment, you think he might close the distance and kiss you—a thought that leaves you unsettled. How should you respond? You’re not even sure if you believe he’s really your husband.

“You were always one to take risks; has amnesia made you forget your true nature?” His fingers trace lightly along your arm, his gaze heavy with desire. He clearly wants you, yet that alone proves nothing. Whoever you once were, in this moment, you feel as though you’re standing bare before him.

"I hope I’m not interrupting the happy couple, but I heard Mrs. Mayhew was awake. I thought I’d finally come to speak with my most anticipated witness. I’ve waited two years for this conversation,” Detective Lois Tryon stands in the doorway of your hospital room, a victorious smile on her face. Dr. Mayhew doesn’t look pleased to see her there. They exchange a tense look, while you remain close to him, caught between their silent standoff.

“I don’t believe it’s appropriate to question my wife mere hours after she’s woken from a two-year coma,” Dr. Mayhew says, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you close. “I’m sure you’re aware of her memory issues, Detective Tryon. It would be courteous of you to give her a moment to adjust.” You’re taken aback but stay pressed against his well-defined frame, momentarily wondering if he’s a doctor or a bodybuilder.

“It’s no surprise you don’t think it’s appropriate for me to question your wife,” Detective Tryon replies, her tone laced with sharpness. “I would have to reveal to her that her husband is a primary suspect in a series of murders. That he’s so determined to evade justice he might’ve orchestrated the accident that left her comatose. And that he’s been having an affair with the lead investigator of this case—while she’s been unconscious.” Mayhew tenses, a flicker of fury crossing his face as he grips your waist tighter. You watch as his features contort slightly, weighing the situation. You can’t help but wonder if you’re witnessing an innocent man being falsely accused or a guilty man feeling the noose tighten. For some reason, this only heightens your intrigue in him.

[prettynpinkputhy]

🕷️Caught in your web🕷️

Miguel O’haraxspiderwoman!reader

Warning:18+NSFW,Breeding,Praise,language,violence, blood play, rough sex, Bondage, size kink etc

Summary: Spider y/n falls through a portal and ends up in the year 2099

Comment if you’d like part 2🎀

Word count: 5.k

The cuffs around your wrist squeeze tighter the more you struggle against them. That weird electric prickly feeling begins to set in before you decide to conserve your energy. It was useless with your web supply cut off, A burning sears across your cheek as the guard delivers another blow. A metallic taste of blood pools in your mouth,you spit resentfully at his army green boots.

“If that’s all you got we’re gonna be here all day.” You sneer. The guard raises his hand pulling back with more momentum than before, striking you again. Your head hangs with exhaustion, sweat dripping onto the concrete floor. “The serum. I want it.” The sound of calculated clicks fill the space as a voice makes its way closer and closer. The footsteps get louder before stopping completely, Your spidey senses are off the charts. A calloused finger taps the underside of your chin putting your bloodied face on display. “Fascinating…your wounds have already started repairing themselves” your head whips away from his touch,repulsed. He continues “That serum is the missing link to a suit that could withstand the molecular pressure of traveling through the multiverse. The human body is far too fragile to have its cells ripped apart and woven back together, trust me we’ve tested that theory.” The blind fold is snatched away from your eyes. You squint at the sudden change in lighting, the room is fuzzy before coming into focus. You’re in what seems to be a warehouse… a huge warehouse. This building had to be connected to something bigger and judging by the advanced technology, Array of computers, and Enormous Hexagonal machine at the center of the room, it was most likely a laboratory of some kind. A man in a midnight suit towers over you with an unhinged look in his eye. “You’re my missing link.” He practically drools. A feeling of dread stabs you, this wasn't looking good.

“You’ll have to kill me. Oh wait you can’t… because… your missing link…it’s in my head.” You smile giving a small labored laugh.

“Oh Doctor Y/LN who needs your mind when I have your body. These powers you have…I assume you weren’t born this way. This isn’t some comic book fairytale. People aren’t born special. We make ourselves special…and that’s exactly what you did, isn't it doctor?” He crouches glaring deeply into your eyes.

“I am going to wring every last drop of serum from your body, you will be nothing but a husk when I am done with you.” He grins before shooting back to his feet.

“Activate the machine and get her hooked up to the destabilizer. I want this thing up and running by tonight” He places a cigarette between his lips, striking it with a gold plated lighter, smoke swirls in the air.

“Kill her nice and slow for wasting so much of my time.” He Flicks the still burning cigarette in your direction,the red hot cherry barely missing your skin.

Two guards force you to your feet, dragging you to a chair riddled with tubes and wires.

Shit.shit.shit. You think, going limp and using your body weight to slow them down. They unlock your handcuffs in order to strap you into the machine, without thinking you shoot two webs in random directions grabbing whatever they land on and yank them towards the guards. A desk and filing shelf come flying at the men knocking them unconscious. You attempt to shoot a web at the guard who stood at the entrance but they unfortunately got away, you hear them call for backup on their radio.

I’m outnumbered… your mind races

A red button in the middle of the control center catches your eye.

That’s my way out, you conclude flipping over the unconscious men and landing gracefully on top of the command center.

Big scary red button…what can go wrong? With nothing to lose you slam the button. The machine activates with an obnoxious roar, lights begin to flicker from the insane power output. You walk up the stairs leading to the device, it seems to be made up of millions of tiny pixels, each spec representing a possible reality or dimension. Colors you didn’t even know existed vibrated within this portal.

“Don’t you dare! This is my life’s work!” A guttural scream shreds the air.

“Well I guess…better luck next life?” You give a cheeky salute before falling into the unknown.

~

“ay dios mío, I don’t need a spidey sense to see she’s wearing a suit.” The voice sounds distant but close enough for you to make out their conversation. “Yes I am sure, I checked, there are web shooters…right, she hasn’t woken up yet…Okay.” he sighs. Your eyes flutter open and you’re greeted by a blue sky and fluffy white clouds. A Dark shadow cast over your view before you can fully appreciate it. Another me?… you think to yourself unsure if you’re seeing things right or if it’s a hallucination from the interdimensional travel.

“Where am I?” You push off the ground with a grunt.

“Nueva York” He states with an annoyed tone.

“Nueva York? You mean New York City? How did I end up in New York City…” You ramble frantically.

“Idiota, Nueva York, have you been living under a rock for the last century?” He kneels down edging forward evaluating your features. With a curious hand, he brushes your hair back. You wince as his finger accidentally glides over the fresh slash on your cheek. For a split second his eyes go wide with concern before resting back to judgemental slits.

“What happened here?” His hand hovers over your wound, keeping a good distance to avoid hurting you any further. Miguel didn’t have many moral compasses but one of his top three rules was to always protect women and children. Any villains who dared make the mistake of harming either were given no mercy. Killing was never his first option, but it wasn’t completely off the table if needed. His blood boils at the sight of you, his instinct is to destroy whoever would do something so vile. His teeth bare down, the tips of his fangs prick the smooth skin of his inner lip, a subtle hint of blood hits his tongue.

“Who did this to you?” He asks again, more aggressive than before.

“The Director.” You mutter. Running from a fight wasn’t in your nature but The Director’s forces were too much to handle. You needed to get away, regroup, and being shackled to a cold slab of metal wasn’t the best place to do that.

“Director, most likely a new wannabe villain…leave this to me. You’ve had enough fun playing dress up for one day.” He says as he gets back up. His eyebrow perks inquisitively for a second before turning around. “Cool toy by the way.” He waves off. Impulsively you shoot a web that whips around his ankles holding him in place. Knees bending Miguel centers himself, stabilizing his balance.

“How’s that for a toy?” You push off the ground, palms flat, landing a forward front flip straight onto your feet.

You approach cautiously, nearly walking on the tips of your toes, he doesn’t budge or even speak. He looks dangerous, measuring in at 6'9, his chiseled physique, red eyes that seemed to see right through you, and fangs didn’t help much with looking friendly. Standing at arm's length. You speak slowly.

“I’m not here to fight-”

“Wouldn’t be much of a fight.” he growls, baring his claws.

“It’s my turn for questioning.” You say.

“You must have stolen that device. I will have to detain you.” He lunges at you stumbling clumsily.

“What’s your name?” You question. Miguel stays silent for a while pondering if he should give out such sensitive information to an imposter.

“Isn’t it obvious,Spider-Man.” He states finally looking down at the red spider symbol on his suit.

“This can’t be real. It couldn’t have actually worked. I thought I’d get sent to a McDonald’s a few blocks away or something…I’m really in a different universe” you grumble to yourself, pacing back and forth.

“Are you on something right now?” His brow scrunches accentuating the lines in his forehead.

“W-what do you mean by that! Are you asking if I’m on drugs?” You’re snatched away from your personal monologue by his ludicrous accusation.

“It’s alright I'm used to super fans, just tell me where you live and I can get you back home safely.”

“Super fans? Do you think I’m supposed to be dressed up as you? My suit is way better than yours; if anything you’re cosplaying me!” You wince, doubling over, the adrenaline has started wearing off.

“You need a hospital. Libérame(set me free), I can help you.” He struggles against your webs once more,failing to break free.

“I am fine I just need to rest for…a…minute-“ your words trail off.

Miguel breaks into action, the webs resist before shredding apart as he surges forward catching you in his solid arms.

“Joder(fuck),she’s out cold” he supports your body. His web shoots, sticking to the opposite building. A strong arm locks you in place as he jumps swinging through the maze of businesses and skyscrapers.

~

shooting up in a cold sweat, your chest heaves heavily struggling for breath.

“Just a dream” you exhale relieved holding the blanket to your bare chest.

“Oh great,You’re awake.” At the corner of the room Spider-Man leans against the wall,smirking.

Your hands scramble for more blanket to shield your nude body.

“Where are my clothes?!” A hot blush creeps on your cheeks.

“I haven’t quite figured that out myself, some time after you passed out your…suit somehow submerged itself into your flesh. Disintegrating right in front of my eyes” He looks down stroking his chin.

“The suit deactivated because of my low brain activity, it thought I was transforming back. Oh god did you see anything?” You ask curling into yourself.

“Wasn’t much to see.” He shrugs.

You scoff before noticing a fresh set of clothes sprawled in the chair beside the bed.

“I came to let you know where the bathroom is, I’m sure you want to get cleaned up after everything that’s happened.”

“Why did you bring me here…and where is here exactly?”

“This is my place. I couldn’t just leave a fellow spider person unconscious on a rooftop. It doesn’t really help the brand. Whatever you have inside you is way too powerful to let a villian get lucky and stumble upon.” He explains. So it’s about my powers huh? Typical. You think holding eye contact with the spider jerk. The color of his eyes stand out to you, their vibrant red hue shines in the dim light. The more you observe him the more intense his features become, he’s extremely handsome under that constant grimace. You find your eyes lingering on his spandex clad body, tracing how the fabric molds to the shape of each muscle. So tight you could see even the slightest twitch or flex. He folds his arms awaiting your reply, This movement forces you to look down at the sheets,flustered.

“Y-yeah that’s true, thanks, I’ll uh go take that shower now.”

“The bathrooms down the hall to the left, I have towels folded on the sink along with toiletries. Have a nice bath…you need it.” He holds his nostrils closed exiting the room dramatically.

Lifting your arm you take a quick sniff. Your nose scrunches at the smell of battle. Interdimensional travel is quite the workout. Your toes wiggle on the cool hardwood floor seeing if it’d crumble underneath your feet. To your surprise it doesn’t, meaning this place is actually real life and not just some simulation. Peeking your head from behind the security of the door frame, you scan the area before scurrying down the hall. Miguel stands in the living area mumbling something under his breath.

“So her picture is nowhere in the police database?…no, ugh Tan molesto(so annoying), check again lyla.” He commands.

He really thinks I’m a crazy stalker fan you think in disbelief, you sneak down the hall stepping through the open bathroom door, you close it behind yourself . The bathroom had dark simplistic themes with splashes of red that popped. The sink and bathtub are made with the same charcoal colored marble, the sink is neatly decorated with necessities such as a toothbrush, electric razor, hair brush, cologne and deodorant. To the left of the sink are expertly folded black towels, one for washing and one for drying. The mirror is larger than average and sits rectangular at the same length as the sink.Turning around a glimpse of your back stops you in your tracks. The wounds have closed but the scars and bruises remain. A reminder of your goal…to take down the director. Your fingers trail the scar on your cheek and anger

bubbles from a place deep within . He’d taken everything from you and he had a debt to pay for those atrocities. You wanted his life as payment. Pulling back the scarlet shower curtain you twist the handle all the way to hot, nothing was better than a steaming hot shower to wash away a day. Grabbing the small washcloth you unroll it and step into the tub, holding it under the water before lathering with the body wash propped at the edge of the bathtub. It smelled strongly of musk and deep woody undertones befitting for an attractive egotistical Superhero. The scent of him causes your thighs to squeeze shut as the throbbing sets in. You close your eyes, gliding the towel slowly over your skin imagining his touch. Your head falls back as the towel travels up your neck, the muscles in your throat contract as you swallow back a moan imagining his large hands gripping you there. Washing your chest the fibers of the towel cause a gentle friction over your now stiff nipples earning a small yelp from you. Everything is feeling too good. The bathroom is steamy, the scent of him floating all around you. Absent-mindedly your fingers slide down the length of your stomach trailing a line to your pulsating heat. The hot shower stream collides with your sensitive flesh. The water sprays firmly on your chest stimulating your taut pearls. It’s too much to handle, behind your eye lids you can see him stepping into this shower and fucking you ruthlessly against the shower wall. That rebellious finger teases the slick line of your womanhood, just barely pushing past the soft folds. The tip of your finger slides over your slippery bud, a soft moan falls from your lips. Miguel notices you’ve been in the shower for some time now and begins to worry for your well-being. Just as his fist hovers over the door to knock, he is stopped in his tracks at the sound of desperate whimpers and groans. She isn’t…she couldn’t be. He shakes away the notion concluding you may just be sick from today's events. Regardless he didn’t want to disturb you unless you called for him. For some reason he couldn’t seem to walk away from the door, on the contrary he takes a step closer, curiosity getting the better of him. His heart rate skyrockets as he listens intently.

“Uhn p-please touch me…please.” You beg.

The tips of his ears are warm with blush. The crotch of his suit tightens, suffocating the raging hard on he desperately tries to suppress. His forehead rests on the door as he tries to slow his heavy breathing. Blood rushes through his veins enhancing his already heightened senses. It’s almost as if he could feel you through the wall, the only thing separating him was the door,which he could break down with ease. His lips part exposing sharp ivory fangs, his breath is labored and his body shaking with need. He needed to release these feelings deep inside you. breaking down that door and completely having his way with you on the bathroom floor was the only way to tame the fire burning deep inside him. Every muscle in his body tensed and quivered as he became solid with arousal. I need her. I need to be inside her now. A voice growls in his mind. Suddenly the water cuts off. He steps away from the door chest heaving up and down. Biting his lip he walks away, going into his bedroom to find a change of clothes that will allow his throbbing erection to feel a bit more comfortable. You grab the dry off towel and secure it around your frame.

The clothes. You think realizing they were left in the bedroom.

With a quick peek outside, the coast is clear the spider jerk is nowhere in sight so you B line it to the bedroom. An audible gasp escapes as you cover your mouth in shock. There he stood half naked wearing only a pair of navy blue briefs. His body could have been sculpted by gods, never had you seen someone so beautiful. He turns around glaring at you through his curly hair, eyes gleaming like ruby’s.

“I-I left my clothes, I’m sorry I didn’t know you were in here.” You quickly look away, the image still fresh in your mind.

“It’s fine. I was just changing.” He slips on his white tee shirt, closing the drawer.

“Right of course this is your room, in your house, and your clothes…” you ramble.

“Yeah. Sure. Hurry and get dressed, we need to talk.” He says with an unamused tone.

“O-kay!” He bumps your shoulder as he exits the room.

“Ouch.” You exclaim, holding your arm.

Grumbling angrily under your breath, you pick up the oversized tee and shorts combo. The clothes swallow you naturally considering his massive size. You make your way to the living room. your hands work tying your hair back as you sit on the opposite side of the couch watching him closely.

“I was thinking about your suit.” He starts.

“Please don’t bring up how I was naked earlier.” You plead hiding your face.

“W- no I’m not talking about…that.” His voice becomes deeper as he rubs the back of his neck reminiscing on how hard the sound of your voice made him just minutes ago.

“I’m talking about the technology. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen…something that hasn’t been explored, Ever. Something almost otherworldly.” He scratches his head in confusion.

“Okay so now do you believe I’m not some psycho fangirl?”

“It isn’t completely off the table. But if you are really a spider person…prove it. Prove it isn’t some kind of illusion.” He leans back, arms stretched across the back of the couch, his legs parted comfortably. You can’t help your eyes wandering to the visible bulge that tented between his thighs.

“What was the question again?” Your eyes are glossy and cheeks flustered. Miguel follows your line of vision seeing the lustful gaze consume you. His cock twitches, making him shoot up, using his arms to cover the evidence.

“Prove you have powers!” He raises his voice slightly.

“Okay okay no need to yell.” You stand taking a few steps away from the couch.

His eyes follow you curiously as you stop about three feet in front of him. In mere seconds his hands are forced together by a string of abnormally strong webbing. Wrapping the loose string Around your palm,you pull yanking him to his feet.

“The more you struggle the tighter it becomes.” You inform him. His eyes are low and his lips have a rosy hot blush. You advance forward using the remaining web to bind his wrist tighter. With one final pull it is secured firmly in place.

“ Te deseo tanto(I want you so much)” Miguel moans before quickly regaining his composure.

“Huh what does that mean?” You inquire unsure if you heard him correctly.

“N-nothing it doesn’t mean anything. Where are the webs coming from?”

“Here.” You point to your wrist.

“Then why do you have a web shooter? Sounds like a trick to me.” He says through clenched teeth.

“The shooter strengthens the quality of my webs. It wouldn't be fun swinging fifty feet in the air and having a web break on you.”

“That’s true. You seem to have some experience with this lifestyle. I can assume you’ve been this way for a long time.”

“Yeah…a few years actually.” You sound far away.

“I can’t believe another spider person has gone undetected for so long.” He looks deep in thought.

“I'm not from here exactly.”

“Did you move from a different state? A lot of things have changed after the Heroic age so it would make sense you were in hiding-“ he speaks matter-a factly.

“What year is it?” You interrupt.

“Year? I think you might have hit your head pretty hard. It's the year 2099 don’t you remember?” The world starts spinning around you.

“20…99.You’re Spider-Man from the year 2099? This isn’t right, I shouldn't be here!” Tears stream down your face as you realize just how far away from home you really are.

Without thinking he lifts his bound hands over your head pulling you flush against his rock solid chest.

His chin nestles in your hair, you can feel his warm breath on your cheek. With each sob he pulls you closer,deeper into him.

“Eres demasiado bonita para llorar.” He whispers in your ear. The sudden change in language catches your attention, halting the flow of tears.

“W-what does that mean?” Your head leans back, staring up at him with blurry eyes.

“You’re too pretty to cry.” He breathes.

Giving into the temptation his arms lock around your waist hoisting you to his eye level. You nod, wanting to listen to the only thing that made sense in that moment ,the only thing that felt real…your body. He exhales a sigh of relief at your nod of consent taking advantage of your position he closes the distance with his lips. You hadn’t even recognized the amount of tension in your body until completely relaxing in his arms. The kiss is hungry as you two struggle for power, he clearly wants to take control but you wouldn’t make it that easy. You snake your arms out of his grasp, tangling your hands in his chestnut curls. Your feet are dangling off the ground, taking advantage of this you wrap your legs around his waist. His tongue sneakily slips past your lips petting the inside of your mouth, tasting you for the very first time.

“Tan deliciosa(so delicious)” he mumbles into your mouth.

His warm wet appendage entangles with your eager tongue dancing together in a tango of passion. With a pained groan he forces his wrist apart breaking through the barrier of your webs, desperate to touch you.

“Need…more” he is no longer able to articulate full sentences. The lust drowns him and he pulls you down with him. His now free hands roam your body leaving no place undiscovered. His giant hand grips the back of your neck pulling you deeper into the kiss. He holds you still as he finds solace in your lips, there is no place he’d rather be in this moment than Buried hilt deep inside your walls. His other hand grips your ass kneading the soft skin. As you begin to slip, he bounces you with one arm, holding you even tighter. He blindly sits down on the couch, a bit of a bumpy ride but you land gently straddling his hips. He pulls away to stare fervently at you with rose colored eyes. Without bothering to remove your shirt in a humane way, he slashed a talon between your breasts, roughly splitting the fabric.

“So fucking beautiful” he runs his tongue up the length of your torso all the way to your neck. You tremble beneath his touch. He plants warm kisses up your throat, sucking and nipping the smooth flesh. His fang pokes dangerously close with each lap, threatening to sink in at any moment. He softly bares down breaking just the surface of your skin, a small trickle of blood pools at both sides of the bite. You gasp at the sudden pain but quickly melt as he licks it away. The fact you’re both spider people his venom doesn’t work the same way it would on a human. It is not poisonous or toxic. Your body processes it by turning it into dopamine intensifying your bodily sensitivity. The effects take action immediately; electricity vibrates every cell in your body.

“W-wait i don’t even know your name…your real name.” You huff trying to catch your breath.

“Miguel. Yours?” He smiles, the lines in his face stand out making him look even more charming.

“Y/n” your eyes move side to side as he leans in again this time lower.

“Nice to meet you, Now por favor fóllame(please fuck me)

“Oh god…ah…please” you plead as he sucks your erect peaks. He sucks and teases your nipples, he moans as you grab his hair for support.

“Uhn…mamita harder, pull harder” he groans, flicking his tongue over your hard pearls. You obey, pulling with a little more force than before. A shiver runs down his spine, his eyes flutter as they roll back.

In an instant he turns around flipping you onto your back, he kneels between your legs on the living room floor. He ejects a web plastering your ankles together. Your back is flat on the couch cushion and your lower half hangs being supported only by his firm grip on your ankles. Just as before he doesn’t bother with removing your bottoms. He lifts your legs up, creating tension in the fabric and slicing at the resistance point splitting the shorts in two exposing your eager slit.

“Oh dios te necesito ahora(oh god I need you right now)” he pants.

Using the hand grasping your ankles, he pushes your legs back putting your plush entrance on display. He salivates at the sight of you so vulnerable and open before him, the muscles in your legs tremble as he bends down splaying soft kisses on your inner thighs. You can feel his warm breath on your wet folds. A growl rumbles in his throat as he traces the line of your flower with his tongue, savoring your nectar .

“f-fuck…s-so good” you moan, biting back a scream of pleasure. Utilizing his free hand, he teases your slick canal with two thick digits before easing them inside. His tongue and fingers work in unison petting your inner and outer sweet spots. Never had he felt someone so tight and inviting, his cock twitches as your walls squeeze his fingers. Pumping his fingers in and out he simultaneously licks your clit, sucking and lapping at the bundle of nerves. Your hips buck and hands find his hair grinding deeper into his touch. He picks up the pace as your pussy quivers. his head moves rhythmically as he absolutely devours you. His chin is slick with your juices as he licks and sucks every inch of your inner labia. Your legs twitch and shake as the climax edges near, maintaining the same speed he pushes you past your breaking point.

“Can’t take anymore…i-its too much.” You sob gripping him tighter.

“It’s okay estás haciendo un buen trabajo(You’re doing such a good job) don’t give up on me…that’s it…good girl.” He praises finger fucking you through your orgasm. With a final yelp the gates open and you cum harder than you’ve came before, coating his fingers in your delicious cream. Slow and gently he slips his fingers from your spent cunt leaving you shivering and incoherent. Instinctively he puts those same fingers in his mouth sucking away the mess you made. Before you can even think of catching your breath, he sits up removing the barrier of his shirt and shorts. The elastic waistband of his shorts slides down exposing the defined V lines on his hips. His throbbing manhood burst free, the veins pulsing visibly with frustration. His head hangs hiding his red hot blush and low set eyelids, this feeling could only be described as animalistic. Using his fangs he shreds the webbing holding your ankles in place, setting you free. Your knees fall in exhaustion at either side of you giving him full access to your cunt once again. He towers over you, hands on the back of the couch to support his massive weight. You feel his cock fall thick and heavy on your glistening lips. He breathes deeply, rubbing his member along your split, his mouth opens slightly a pained expression pulls to his face.

“Me vuelves loca(you drive me crazy) I can’t wait anymore.” He growls lining his tip with your slick hole. He plunges deep and desperately inside you, his claws slice the back of the couch as he ruts into you. Those piercing red eyes bore into yours as he pistons into your pillowy heat. Your pussy clenches sucking him in further, the tip of his cock slams your g spot with each stroke. The grooves of your inner walls massage all eight inches of his thick rod.

“Me encanta tu cuerpo(I love your body)…te sientes muy bien(you feel so good)…No puedo resistirme a ti(I can’t resist you)” he groans low in your ear. He places his calloused hand under your knee pushing it back and opening you wider. He pumps in and out at a fervent pace, suddenly he switches the position of his hands to rest on your hips. With his Cock buried deep inside you, he stands hoisting you by your waist. Naturally your legs hang around his hips leaving you at his mercy. You’re a frightening 6’9 inches from the ground being fucked like a rag doll. His hands grip your ass as he rocks you back and forth on his dick. Your toes curl as he rails you slamming up while forcing you down on his cock. It’s hard and needy. He can’t control himself, his talons prick your flesh as he grips you tightly. His manhood throbs begging for release,head falling back as he forces you up and down on his shaft.

“Need to cum…can’t hold it f-fuck.” With a final thrust he slams deep within exploding and spraying your walls with hot cum. He holds you close as his body trembles, a thin layer of sweat glistens on his body. His cock twitches still hard inside you.

“Another round,hermosa(beautiful)?” He pants.

“Yes please.” You breathe.

[inexplicablepeas]

The Surface of the Abyss

Drabble written for Marius/Daniel Week (@maridaniweek).

Day 5: typewritten notes / deep waters

Marius holds in a breath he never needed to take as he reads the typewritten page. With an exhale of some small relief and a hum of consideration he places it back on the pile of typed paper next to the typewriter. It sits on it's own little desk in the corner of this chaotic room. This is where Daniel has taken to spending his nights obsessively working on his little miniature towns and cities. The space is dominated by a huge dining table, a little too big for the room really, which is two thirds covered in a growing cityscape. Models in progress and all kinds of other crafting materials and tools litter the rest of the table and every other available surface in the room.

He's certain this is a good sign, this page imprinted with the uniform, boldly inked markings of a typewriter. He had placed the (already rather outdated) device here in this room a number of weeks ago. He was uncertain that Daniel would take any interest in it, so single minded is he about his models these days. Most nights, the good nights, he gets up and makes his way straight to this room, silently starts his work. Marius isn't sure what it means, this obsession. He cannot deny that his mind seems a bit more... ordered while he works on this little world. So he has encouraged it.

It is surely an improvement on how he spent his nights before, staring into the space in front of him, or gazing blankly, and seemingly uncomprehendingly, at the huge television in the lounge, on the occasions he allowed Marius to sit him in front of it. Marius has tried reading to him sometimes, it was clear that he wasn't really following any story he read though, just contentedly absorbing the sound of his voice if anything.

And still, on the nights he does not go straight to work on this project of his, he may not move at all, he can just lie for hours in the dark in in his below-ground room well after the sun has set. On those nights, despite his stillness, his mind is often a chaotic whirl of images, his heart sometimes races at a concerning pace... As he works on the models, on the other hand, sometimes memories surface all the same, but his mind seems in a calmer state, the memories have a little more context... it's almost a narrative. And he thinks that may be just what he needs - narrative. After all, Daniel is a story teller. That was his vocation before knowledge of their kind consumed his mortal life.

And for Marius narrative has always been something that has kept him grounded when the weight of time presses down on him, when he feels he may be swept up in it's unrelenting currents, might lose himself entirely in a bewildering new century. The exercise of recording has always calmed him, helped him to put things in order. Countless thousands of pages he's written over the years, most lost or burnt...

He saw the typewriter in Daniel's mind one night as he worked away – that's what had given him the idea, the image of his long, elegant fingers clacking away on a typewriter in a motel room, absorbed in transcribing from a tape, the memory continued on and suddenly he froze, a spike of panic going through him. He had the sense that he was being watched, staring at the empty blackness of the room's window for a beat, hitting stop on the tape player and forcing himself shakily to get up and close the curtains, staring distractedly for a little too long at the quiet parking lot before pulling the thin curtains shut. Sat back in front of the typewriter, lit a cigarette with unsteady hands. The thought cut off there as Daniel put the model in his hands down to search the cluttered table for a particular tube of paint.

For the next few nights, after making sure that Daniel was fed and settled with his models, Marius went out alone to hunt the second hand stores of the surrounding area for the right machine. Marius himself had used a number of typewriters off and on throughout the years, he always liked the satisfying clack of the keys. The staccato press of his fingers on the machine so different from the flow of a stylus or quill, for a time he had been enchanted with them. He didn't bring any of those machines with him to this dwelling, now he has a rather cutting edge word processor in a humming little plastic box of a computer in the study upstairs, and pen paper of course, when a more individual touch feels appropriate. But he thought that it might be best for Daniel to try using what he's most familiar with, so he went looking for an electronic typewriter like the one he saw in his memories.

After three nights of searching the cluttered little second hand shops in nearby towns he spotted just what he was looking for, an old Selectric typewriter. A similar model to one he had himself some years ago - sitting on a low shelf surrounded by colorful board games in battered boxes. It even had a couple of ink ribbons with it. He made the purchase, insistently overpaid for it, and spirited the little machine back home.

He wasn't sure how to approach it, how to get Daniel's attention. He brought a little desk down from upstairs and set the machine on it in a corner of the room, without saying a word. Daniel was undisturbed by the activity. He was on the floor, working away at gluing the parts of a minute little house together. Marius crouched down in front of him, studying him gravely, this spare, pallid boy-man, surrounded by crafting detritus as he was, sticking his tongue out as he concentrated on his work, seemingly oblivious to his presence. He cleared his throat, which did not draw his attention in any noticeable way. He started talking to him anyway. He knows some part of him hears him, he just chooses what he pays attention to.

"Daniel, I found this in town – this older model of typewriter, from your time. Quite a lovely machine. I thought you might like to put down some of your thoughts," done gluing the house, he turned his back to him, went up on his knees to set it down on the empty part of the table to dry, "I'll leave it in here, by the door, if you feel like using it. It might help you... make sense of things... put them in order perhaps," Marius continued to study him intensely. Daniel had turned his head, so that Marius saw a side profile, as he stared off into space for a moment. His mouth momentarily quirked into a cynical little smile before he went back to assembling another building.

He had tried this with Amadeo too. Of course, his mind was locked to him after he turned him, and he went through those periods of awful, withdrawn silence. Those silences frightened him so, not knowing what troubled him or how he could help him. Marius tried forcing him to record his thoughts in ink on paper, in the hope that it would ease his solitary suffering, in the hope that in reading what he wrote that he would know how to help him. And he thinks it did help him, even just the exercise of it, at least for a short while...

It helps that he can see the content of Daniel's mind, but the lack of order disturbs him, flashes of faces, swirling colors, noise rising into a cacophony before dying away. Often Armand is there: clad in denim like a youth of this time and looming over him in some dim, ruined place, staring at him with those huge, steady and ever mysterious eyes through a crowd, just flashes of images, and fragments of thought and sound, all a jumble. Marius has rarely seen anything surface from before the boy's fateful interview with Louis, that gentle and thoughtful creature who put his world to ruin in a single night. But here on this page – he has gone back and written of his youth, in fact of that first spark that ignited in him that lost passion to record the stories of others. And he has written it with such clarity! Clarity the likes of which he has scarce seen this young immortal capable of. He's sure that this is the key to restoring him to some kind of lucidity of mind - putting some order to the events of his life. Connecting this child on the page with the powerful yet confused creature he has become. This is perhaps a start.

[argyrocratie]

"The largest, quickest, and most devastating pandemic in all of human history was the influenza epidemic whose first of three waves began in Kansas in March 1918, and recurred in ever widening and more mortal forms in the autumn and the winter. Yet, this epidemic is distinguished from others by a second reason, the historical amnesia - a virtual blackout of memory - that has greeted it in subsequent generations. Its historian summarizes: "Nothing else - no infection, no war, no famine - has ever killed so many in as short a period. And yet it has never inspired awe."

Between 22 and 30 million people were killed in a year. Half a million of these were in the United States whose troop-ships carrying young men to the Western Front of Europe during World War I, in conditions that were floating test tubes of the virus, brought the 'flu to France, then Germany, England, and Russia, and from the European continent the virus was transmitted along the sea-lanes of European imperialism to Latin America, to West Africa, to India (where 12 million died), to China, Japan, and the Pacific islands. More were killed by the epidemic than were killed by the Civil War or World War I Which Robert Graves called "the Sausage Machine, because it was fed with men, churned out corpses, and remained firmly screwed in place."

The age specific mortality curve of the epidemic was shaped more like a 'W' than a 'U' which is to say that those in the strong middle years of life were as affected, and more so, than the very young or very old. This characteristic deeply worried the official macroparasitic institutions which relied on those in their middle years to produce, to reproduce, and to fight. To them, not so much life, as production and reproduction was the worry. Henry Cabot Lodge was concerned about the productivity of munitions plants. In March 1,000 workers at the Ford Motor Company fell sick. The number of rivets driven per day at the Philadelphia shipyards fell at a rate that alarmed the war producers. The equivalent of two combat divisions of the AEF, or the American Expeditionary Force ("Ass End First"), were incapacitated in France. 40% of U.S. Navy personnel were affected. 37 life insurance companies omitted or reduced their annual stock dividends. The macroparasites and the microparasite were thus in mortal competition for the bodies of the healthy ones in middle life, and that for another reason too. As an air-borne infection, "the rich died as readily as the poor."

(...)

500 were arrested in New York on "Spitless Sunday." Large gatherings were prohibited. Telephone booths were padlocked. Public water fountains were closed. In San Francisco face masks were required to be worn. Cash tellers were equipped with finger bowls. A municipal ordinance of Prescott, Arizona, adopted a suggestion from an obscure newspaper by the Fascist, Benito Mussolini, making it a crime to shake hands. The Army Surgeon General reported that "civilization could easily disappear from the earth."

The middle point of the 'W' grew and as a result the famous 'Lost Generation' of despairing American writers came into being, and yet with the exception of Katherine Anne Porter none wrote about the 'flu epidemic. Was this massive, social, denial? Was this male chauvinism? Was this a sequela of the disease's "profound systemic depression"? They are important, unanswered questions.

Katherine Anne Porter synthesized the times, the creation of the 'new man,' and the 'new woman.' As Prohibition loomed guys started sporting hip flasks, and the new woman took up the cigarette - alcohol and nicotine, traditional responses, since the 1790s, towards epidemics. The government-issue wristwatch became the emblem of the urban individual; it became essential to the urban-and-factory planning of the Twenties. The government drive for money (War Bonds) was the only occasion of permitted gathering, and that under the slogan "Give 'till it Hurts." Indeed, "Sacrifice" was the watchword for the soldier and the 'new' woman alike: give money, give your time, give your labor, give you life."

-Peter Linebaugh, "Lizard Talk: Or, Ten Plagues and Another - An Historical Reprise in Celebration of the Anniversary of Boston ACT UP" (1989)

[neonblessing]

10.

⚠️ SPOILER ALERT! ⚠️ Click here to read Neon Blessing from the beginning!

Club RED was a labor of love. A cyclopean eye of neon tubes stared down at the street from the facade of a beautiful temple to excess, bathing the darkening street in bloodred light which played through the mist kicked up by a nearby waterfall. The building was dark glass and darker stone, three stories tall and culminating in a domed roof. It wasn’t even 5 pm, but the line was pouring out the door and onto the sidewalk, foreign raincoats and umbrellas standing side by side with wet-haired Diluvian partygoers.

Shiv had never entered a nightclub through the front before. There’d been one club, the Magpie, that she’d frequented with her friends, but the owner was one of Ornarch’s devout and always let them skip the lines. Huh. She hadn’t been to the Magpie in years. She wasn’t even sure if it was still in business.

The line moved quickly, and before long, she was at the door. “Let’s see some ID.” There were two bouncers, identically dour and militaristic-looking men who loomed over her like a pair of sunglasses-clad statues, their suits custom-made to fit over the bulky structure of a mil-spec exocloak. Thin seams in the skin of their faces suggested the presence of subdermal armor plating to protect what the mechanized armor didn’t. One of them handled a scanner with the practiced care of a guy whose grip could crush a human skull.

Shiv showed them the card. “Kooler sent me.” The one with the scanner stared her down while the other barked a few quick words into a headset. If shit went south, the only viable exit was ducking the rope to the left, but Headset would make a grab for her and if those huge hands got a grip it was over. She’d need to distract him first, maybe blind him. Throw her coat in his face? She started to shrug it off her shoulder, just in case. Scanner continued to glower at her in a prolific display of disdain. He should be too far away to do anything, but just in case-

Headset spoke, snapping her out of her planning.

“Hm?” She’d missed what he’d actually said.

“Go on in. The boss is on the second floor.” Shiv pulled her coat back over her shoulder and brushed past the bouncers and into the club. She pushed her way past a heavy curtain of soundproof fabric and replaced the endless roar of the streets with the endless roar of Club RED’s speakers.

Water poured down gilded fountain walls and colored lights arced and scattered through thick smoke, produced by a mix of sweet-scented cigarettes and industrial fog machines. Waiters and waitresses wearing practically nothing served a very peculiar clientele: half of the patrons were exactly what she’d expected, the sort of wealthy-looking folks willing to spend fifteen credits on a can of beer; and the other half were all grizzled paramilitary types. The burning coal glow of their cybernetic eyes stared out at her through the fog, automatically seeking out her vital organs before flicking back to their drinks.

Shiv scaled the stairs to the second floor, taking a moment to look out on the dance floor from the balcony. The band’s frontwoman was more work of art than human, her limbs all formed from sweeping lines of carbon fiber and steel. Her guitar plugged into a port on the back of her neck, her quicksilver fingers dancing over the strings with surreal grace. She had a voice like an angel with a smoking habit.

“She’s quite something, ain’t she?” A woman’s voice came from behind Shiv. She turned to see Kurtz, for who else could it be? The owner of Club RED was maybe forty years old, a little shorter than Shiv, and built like a brick. Her head was clean-shaven, revealing dozens of tally mark tattoos, in sets of five, spreading from near her temple and across half of her head. Unlike everyone else, she was dressed simply and practically, in sturdy black pants and a tank top, and unlike everyone else, she had a gun at her hip, an antique revolver. Both of her eyes were red: one eye was flesh, with an iris that had either been dyed or transplanted. The other eye was metal, the iris glowing the exact same shade as the vast eye on the front of the building. She carried herself with an easy confidence, bordering on arrogance. “Are you the one Kooler mentioned?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m Joan Kurtz, owner of Club RED and REDEYE PMSC. What brings you to my door?”

First Page – Previous Page – Next Page

[sw0rdtooth]

Chapter 1: The First Hunt

Synopsis: Vincent, his son, and two co-workers split up to collect the first of twelve enchanted items they're set to collect.

As Vincent watched the clock tick over to 3pm he rose from his bed. He stumbled through his dark cluttered room, not bothering to open the curtains. After feeling his way through the room, he went under the cloth in between the bamboo dividers that separated his room from his office. He then opened the office door that led to the rest of the house.

“Look who dares exit his cave” Shouted Vincent’s son, Tod, from the couch across the house from Vincent’s door.

Vincent promptly ignored him and stumbled his way to the kitchen and prepared himself a bowl of cereal. He sat next to Tod as the TV blared, illuminating the entire main area of the house. Vincent finished his bowl of cereal and dumped the remaining milk into the sink, Vincent stared at it as it swirled around, slowly pouring down the drain.

“You ready for this thing?” Asked Vincent. “I mean, I guess. I’ll get Catherine,” responded Tod.

“Is she still asleep?”

“I don’t think so.”

Catherine exited her room, and they all made their way out to the car, opening the trunk to reveal a sniper rifle, two pistols, and a Tommy gun. Vincent armed himself with the sniper and climbed into the driver’s seat of their SUV. Tod and Catherine armed themselves with the pistols, Catherine also grabbed the Tommy gun and climbed in the back while Tod took the passenger seat. Vincent lit a cigarette and started the car, as they began to make their way towards their co-worker’s apartment building.

“So, this person just signed up for the company online?” Asked Tod.

“You betcha, her name is Eiliesh, Catherine knows her apparently,” answered Vincent.

The car slowed to a crawl in front of the apartment, as a pale redheaded woman rushed out of the apartment’s doors and waited for the car to stop. She climbed in the back behind Vincent. Catherine handed her the Tommy gun she was holding onto, and they set off for their destination. Vincent parks the car in front of a building with a sign outside titled “The Diamond Council.” A company that had always been ahead of everyone else in the universe in terms of technology. They had just perfected their Wormholes, finding methods how to use them as fast methods of transportation across the universe.

Vincent and his group opened the door to find a plain white room with dozens of vacant waiting chairs and a single reception desk in the middle.

Vincent approached the receptionist, “Uh, Vincent, I have an appointment for wormhole…y… stuff…?”

The receptionist checked his list and nodded his head as he picked up the phone and notified the other end of Vincent’s presence. After a few seconds of silence, he pointed the group toward the door to the left of the reception desk. The gang walked through and down a long hallway until they came upon a door with a person waiting outside who led the group into the room.

“Okay, so, you two take the first one on the list and me and Catherine will take the second one,” Vincent ordered.

Tod and Eiliesh were up first and gave the coordinates of the first target on the list to the worker operating the wormhole machine. They were led through another door, and it led to an observation deck overlooking a large machine with a large empty circle in the middle about thirty feet in diameter. The machine powered up with sparks flying around the center of the circle, large pieces of machinery moving in tandem with each other, and a green liquid moving through tubes surrounding the entire machine. A large spinner moved inside the circle creating a gust of wind that sucked in the surrounding sparks to lead them into a circular shape and as it spun faster and faster the sparks formed a glowing border soon to be filled with a portal.

Tod and Eiliesh walked down the steps and were loaded into a black bean-shaped ship with a windshield at the front made specifically to withstand the walls of a wormhole. They powered it up and it began to float 20 feet above the ground, directly in the center of the circle. The ship blasted into the portal, and they were immediately surrounded by a tunnel with a glowing substance colored pink, purple, and blue making up the walls in a camouflage pattern. This was Tod’s first time actually driving one, he’d done training before, but this was a lot more intense and faster moving than he had trained for as he made sharp turns through the winding tunnel.

Tod slipped a little bit, and the ship crashed into the tunnel revealing a somewhat liquid texture to the walls but also making a loud painful searing sound. This ship was engineered to withstand the pressure and heat of the tunnels, but he thought it best to not try and test the heat resistance of the exterior of the ship. After about 10 minutes of travelling, the tunnel appeared to end completely with the colors all moving into a swirl. Tod slowed the ship as much as possible but couldn’t stop it before it flew directly into the spiral.

* * *

Back at the Diamond Council Base, Vincent and Catherine were loaded into a ship and the coordinates were changed to their target’s relative location. They were loaded into the same type of ship known as a “Void Ship.” These ships are not only capable of traveling through the tunnels but also going through the walls and entering outside the tunnels into a place known as the void. The ship took off and Vincent flew it effortlessly through the winding tunnels as it too ended in a spiral, Vincent didn’t bother slowing it down and went straight into the spiral.

* * *

Tod braced for impact or to be stuck in the void but upon opening his eyes he realized that the spiral was the end of the tunnel, he had made it to his destination. Tod landed the ship in a nearby parking lot, he and Eiliesh emerged from the ship, and she pulled out a device to more accurately locate the position of their target. They began towards the signal and approached a large town and began making their way through crowds of people trying their best to follow the signal when the pointer suddenly turned around. They immediately spun around and realized the device was pointing toward a completely normal-looking person.

Tod looked towards Eiliesh for confirmation to go through with the murder. She nodded back. He pulled out his pistol and shot the man in the middle of a crowd sending everyone into a panic.

“GET THE THING!” Shouted Tod.

“I DON’T KNOW WHERE IT IS!?” shouted back Eiliesh as she rifled through the dead man’s pockets to no avail.

She looked back at the signal and turned to Tod, “We got the wrong guy...”

“Shit.”

“POLICE, PUT YOUR HANDS UP.”

Tod and Eiliesh looked at each other not knowing what to do. Eiliesh jumped behind Tod and he ran behind her as they ran away, Tod was peppered in bullets as they fled, not doing any damage to him, each bullet sunk into his transparent cyan flesh and dissolved into the material. He shielded Eiliesh as her human body was much frailer than his. They ended up taking refuge in an old parking garage.

“Okay, we need to get the target, now,” whispered Eiliesh.

“How lucky are we?” Responded Tod.

Eiliesh’s questions were quickly answered when Tod gestured towards a man getting into his car who had a blue glowing object in his pocket. The man got into his car, shut the door, and started the car. Eiliesh had snuck in the back right door of the car as he was getting in and came up behind him from the backseat and wrapped a metal cord around his neck and began strangling him. He reached for his pocket attempting to grab the object they were attempting to obtain from him, she put one end of the cord into the hand that had the other end and used her now free hand to stop him from getting the object from his pocket. He went back and forth with different hands until finally both arms went limp, and she tied the wire around the seat.

Eiliesh grabbed the object from the man’s pocket, it was a light blue glowing orb that had the texture of magma with the glowing blue between the cracks in the brown rocks but felt cold to the touch. She climbed out of the car and crouched towards Tod, attempting not to draw any attention to the two of them. They crept out of the back of the parking garage and ran as fast as they could, not realizing that the police were searching the garage for them and began covering Tod again with bullets from the parking garage after realizing that they were fleeing.

They got to the ship with the police hot on their tail and signaled the people back at The Diamond Council to re-open the portal to let them back through. The portal opened and Tod started the ship as the police watched on in fear, the ship then accelerated near-instantly to a couple hundred miles per hour and blasted into the portal. Tod got the ship through the tunnel, this time a lot easier, and as he approached the end, he didn’t bother slowing down considering this time he knew it was the exit.

* * *

Vincent and Catherine exited their portal in the middle of a town’s parade. They landed the ship on top of a building overlooking the parade. They got out of the ship and Vincent lit another cigarette and offered one to Catherine, but she declined. Vincent got the sniper out of the ship storage and set up the stand on the building and aimed down at the parade.

“Go locate the target, message me where it is,” ordered Vincent.

Catherine walked down each flight of stairs until she reached the bottom, she began fighting through crowds trying to find the target. She fought through line after line until she finally reached an opening, a crowd of people watching something. According to a sign, the carnies found a stone with a glowing blue sword stuck into it, that had supposedly fallen from space into the rock, and they were costing people tickets to attempt to pull it out.

Catherine attempted to message Vincent, but the cell service wasn’t compatible with her phone, so she began to make her way back to the building fighting through bigger crowds, she was pushed onto the ground and struggled to get back up with the sheer amount of people. She finally made her way back to the abandoned building, running up each flight of stairs.

She made it to Vincent, out of breath and barely able to utter the words, “It’s where the Sword in the Stone sign is.”

He looked through the scope and saw that the sword had been pulled out. The person was put in front of several things to test it, they had sliced through fruits and farm animals.

“They used it already,” Vincent said dejectedly.

“Already? So, we can’t just grab it?” Catherine asked.

“No.”

Vincent readied the Sniper, ordering Catherine to go down and be ready to retrieve the sword. She fought her way through the crowds again and got to the front of the line of the sword-pulling competition that had already disbanded, she just wanted a quick way in. Vincent readied his shot and fired from the top floor of the abandoned building, and it went straight through the sword holder’s head sending his brain matter flying everywhere after his head exploded coating the surroundings in blood. The crowds fled the area and made their way out of the building as police swarmed the area. Catherine jumped over the barrier, grabbed the glowing blue sword, and ran as fast towards the building as she could. By the time she got there, Vincent was already on the ship and waiting for her. She climbed in and they signaled The Diamond Council and flew straight into the portal.

“So, what do we know about these targets?” Catherine inquired.

“All I know is that they’re enchanted somehow and that we aren’t allowed to use them, but according to the list, he said he put them in order of easiest to hardest to retrieve, so Tod and Eiliesh shouldn’t be having much trouble.” Responded Vincent.

“Does using them do something to us?”

“I don’t know.”

They both climbed into the back cabin as Vincent put the ship on autopilot. Catherine tucked the sword in between some cushions on a small couch in the back. She sat back on the couch and Vincent leaned up against the driver’s seat until suddenly the door next to Vincent flew open. He was immediately ripped out of the ship and grabbed the track that the sliding door slid on to keep him from flying into the walls of the wormhole tunnel. Catherine was just to the right of the door and was grabbing onto the armrest for dear life.

She managed to gain some courage and maneuvered herself around the ship, eventually managing to wrap her shoes around a bar on the ship across from the door and stick out her arm for Vincent. Vincent grabbed hold and pulled himself up slowly but the further he pulled himself up the more her shoes slipped from the bar, as Vincent grabbed hold of the couch to his right and let go of her hand, suddenly her shoes unhooked from the bar sending her flying into the tunnel walls, spraying out a black dust. Vincent looked on in horror. Her body would have no way of withstanding the heat and speed of the tunnel walls.

Vincent climbed back up using the couch as support and slowly shut the door as his eyes welled with tears. He sat back in the driver’s seat and drove it the rest of the way back. He approached the swirl of the portal and slowed way down to a crawl and slowly landed the ship back in the docking bay and it moved along on a conveyor belt ready for the next ship to land, Vincent grabbed the sword and sat down on a bench waiting to break the news to Eiliesh and Tod.

Tod’s lack of slowing down sent him flying into the glass of the observation deck and destroying many of the controls of the machine. Shattering the windshield of the ship, exploding pieces of the concrete wall off, and sending two workers flying back from the force of the ship crashing into the window. Vincent ran up, Tod was still awake and alert, but Eiliesh was unconscious.

“Vincent, where’s Catherine?”

“Get out, we need to help Eiliesh,” Vincent said, trying to hide his grief.

Vincent pulled out Eiliesh by the arms, ordering Tod to grab her legs. A worker carried out a gurney that they placed her on. After she was on the gurney the worker whizzed her out into the hallway and rushed her into a room with a red cross above the door.

Vincent looked up at Tod and he spoke up, “The door swung open.”

“What?” Tod asked.

“The door swung open… and she flew out.”

“How did that happen?!” Tod shouted.

“I don’t know. But I-… by the time I looked over she was already gone.”

“…Oh my god,” Tod whimpered as his eyes welled with tears.

Vincent took out his wallet and handed the worker eighty thousand dollars for the damages, and they left the observation deck. They then made their way down the hall toward the emergency room and sat on two white chairs adjacent to the door Eiliesh was behind. A doctor came out and explained that she only fainted from the shock and the impact didn’t damage her. She quickly walked out from behind the doctor and was quick to ask where Catherine was.

Tod explained what happened as they made their way out to the car. Vincent dropped off his sniper in the back as well as the glowing sword and Catherine’s pistol then climbed into the driver’s seat. Tod went to the back and dropped off his pistol, Eiliesh’s Tommy gun, and the glowing orb. Eiliesh was already in the seat behind Vincent when Tod climbed in next to her.

“There was nothing I could have done,” Vincent mumbled to himself.

“Okay,” Tod was quick to answer in a tired tone in an attempt to end the conversation before it even started.

Vincent spoke up, “You two need to understand that.”

“I just want to go home” Tod replied as Eiliesh kept silent.

Vincent continued driving through the desert, they watched the sunset as they approached their destination. They drove up upon a large black castle with brick walls, Vincent slowly drove the car across the drawbridge and was stopped at a booth.

“What’s your business here?” The worker asked.

“I uhm- I have a meeting with The Void King to drop off some items he requested,” Vincent said sheepishly.

“Drive up until you see the sign and turn left, take this,” The booth attendant said as she handed Vincent a piece of paper with some gibberish on it.

Vincent pulled into the parking spot in front of the castle and got out of the car, “You two stay here, I’ll be right back.”

Vincent made his way up to the door giving the guard the slip he was handed at the booth. The guard led him through the winding halls until they reached a large door. The large door inched open and after about thirty awkward seconds Vincent made his way through to a large auditorium. On the far left there was an incredibly large chair facing the auditorium with a large television facing the throne.

“He’s asleep right now so just leave the targets on the table next to the throne,” Commanded a guard.

The size of the table was completely normal, and it was almost funny how much the table was dwarfed by the size of the throne. Vincent set down the sword and the orb and made his way back across the auditorium to the door. The guard led Vincent back through the halls to the front entrance. Vincent walked back to the car and pulled it out of the spot and made his way out of the castle.

He began driving back through the desert for another hour with not another word being spoken between the three of them. Vincent rolled up to the house and before the car could fully stop, Tod hopped out and walked towards the house, unlocking and opening the front door and making his way inside. After Vincent parked the car, he and Eiliesh came out, he offered her a lit cigarette that she accepted.

After Vincent lit his own, he began, “You two did good out there… I think, I mean you got the target and there’s not much else I can ask for.”

“Yeah, thanks.”

“Y’know, we have a room free; I can clear it out by tomorrow,” said Vincent. “Are you serious?” “What? You’ve always wanted to move in with us.”

“Maybe some other time, I need to think about all this.”

Eiliesh began to walk off into the night.

“You need a ride?” Vincent offered,

“I think I’m good for tonight”

Vincent put out his cigarette and walked back into the house. Tod was already in his room. Vincent made his way to his office, ducking under the cloth, making his way to his room. He stumbled through the crowded darkness, only illuminated by a flower bed filled with a dozen glowing blue flowers with black stems. Vincent laid down in his bed and began to drift off to sleep.

* * *

The Void King emerged from his chamber and peered down at the table to see the glowing objects. He sat down and looked at the screen overlooking the throne and saw an incoming call from an unknown number.

The King answered the call and was greeted by a hurried and quiet voice “What do you have so far, what does he know?”

“Chill out man, he doesn’t know anything, he got the first two, nothing else, I think one of ‘em died though.”

“Okay, good, this material these objects are coated in is incredibly limited, if these got into the wrong hands it could destroy planets. There is only a finite amount of this material, and we need to keep it out of the public eye.”

“Yes sir, I will call you with any updates.”

[matrixonvhsanddvd]

I think an underrepresented type of smoker is the person who carries a baggie full of rollies. they are always willing to let you bum one (respectfully) because they can just make more when they get home. in my experience they also smoke really nice too for whatever reason.

if anyone doesn't know what I'm talking about a rollie is just a term for homemade cigarettes, generally but not always assembled by a hand operated machine (pictured below) using bulk cigarette tubes and tobacco

If I ever encounter another person who keeps rollies on them I'll ask them if I can snap a pic so I can submit it to you

I've met some people who hand roll their cigs, it's always kinda cool to me tbh. Knew a guy who would just be constantly rolling up a cigarette in front of me while talking to me

[econom-net]

High-Quality Smoking Gear for True Aficionados

At ECONOM, we are dedicated to offering premium tobacco products and accessories that cater to the tastes of the most discerning smokers. Our online store specializes in providing high-quality smoking items that enhance the experience of tobacco enthusiasts, from beginners to seasoned connoisseurs. With a wide variety of products, we ensure that every smoker finds something that suits their personal preferences and needs.

A Wide Range of Smoking Products

Our collection features a diverse assortment of smoking accessories that are designed to deliver both functionality and style. Whether you enjoy rolling your own cigarettes, prefer the elegance of a cigarette case, or indulge in pipe smoking, ECONOM has the perfect product for you. Some of our most popular items include:

Cigarette rolling machines: Perfect for those who prefer to roll their own cigarettes, these machines offer convenience, precision, and ease.

Cigarette tubes and filters: Our high-quality tubes ensure a smooth smoking experience, while filters provide added comfort and satisfaction.

Portsigars (cigarette cases): Our range of stylish and durable cigarette cases offers both protection and sophistication, keeping your cigarettes safe and easily accessible.

Smoking pipes: For those who appreciate the art of pipe smoking, we offer a variety of pipes crafted for comfort and style.

Other accessories: We also offer an array of additional products, including lighters, tobacco pouches, rolling papers, and more.

At ECONOM, we understand the importance of having reliable and high-quality tools to elevate your smoking routine. That’s why we ensure that our products meet the highest standards of quality.

Quality and Affordability

At ECONOM, we believe that quality should never come at an excessive price. Our mission is to provide top-tier smoking accessories at affordable prices, ensuring that our customers can enjoy premium products without breaking the bank. Each product is carefully selected to ensure both durability and style, offering a satisfying experience every time.

We take pride in offering products from trusted brands that are known for their craftsmanship and performance. Whether you are buying a cigarette rolling machine or a pipe, you can count on ECONOM for reliable, high-quality smoking tools.

Exceptional Customer Service

We prioritize customer satisfaction and aim to provide a seamless shopping experience. Our website is user-friendly, making it easy to browse through our extensive collection and place an order in just a few clicks. If you have any questions or need assistance, our customer support team is always ready to help.

We also offer fast and reliable delivery, ensuring that your order reaches you in a timely manner. Our goal is to make your shopping experience as convenient as possible, from the moment you visit our site to the arrival of your products at your doorstep.

Why Choose ECONOM?

Wide selection of premium tobacco products and accessories

Affordable prices without compromising on quality

High-quality, durable, and stylish smoking tools

Reliable customer service and fast delivery

Visit https://econom.net.ua today to explore our full range of smoking products. Whether you're looking for a new cigarette roller, a pipe, or any other smoking accessory, ECONOM has something for everyone. Elevate your smoking experience with the finest products available online!

[hardworkingproducts]

Cigarette Rolling Machine Parts That Will Instantly Improve Your Rolls!

Rolling the perfect cigarette takes more than just good tobacco — your cigarette rolling machine parts play a vital role in the outcome. Worn or low-quality components can lead to loose rolls, tobacco jams, and frustrating breakdowns. If you're struggling to get consistent results, upgrading or replacing key machine parts might be the instant solution you need. The most important parts to improve your cigarette rolls are the injector nozzle, motor, spoon/drum, spring mechanism, and tobacco hopper. Upgrading or replacing these components restores machine performance, ensures even compression, and delivers smoother, tighter rolls every time.

Why Machine Parts Matter More Than You Think

Even the best rolling machine won’t deliver consistent results if the internal parts are worn out or misaligned. These parts are responsible for tobacco feed, compression, and injection — all critical for a proper cigarette.

What Happens When Parts Wear Out?

Uneven cigarette density

Frequent jams or misfeeds

Slower operation

Excess tobacco waste

Real users have reported significant improvements after replacing just one worn-out part — especially in machines like the Powermatic 3, Fresh Choice, or Revolution Tobacco Machine.

Read ....This Machine Rolls Cigarettes So Fast, It Feels Like Magic!

Top 5 Cigarette Rolling Machine Parts That Improve Roll Quality

1. Injector Nozzle

The nozzle pushes tobacco into the tube. When worn or dirty, it leads to uneven packing.

Fix: Replace with a high-grade stainless steel nozzle for smooth, even delivery.

2. Spoon or Drum Mechanism

This scoops and compresses the tobacco before injection. A bent or cracked spoon disrupts even filling.

Fix: Install a new spoon/drum to restore compression consistency.

3. Tobacco Hopper (Feeding Tray)

Feeds tobacco to the compression chamber. A sticky or cracked tray can cause clumps.

Fix: Upgrade to a wider, smoother hopper for consistent feed.

4. Motor Assembly (Electric Models)

Electric cigarette machines like the Powermatic 3 rely on strong motors to maintain speed and torque.

Fix: If the motor hesitates or slows, replace it with a factory-rated replacement part.

5. Spring Mechanism

Found in manual and semi-automatic models. Springs control tension and motion of components.

Fix: Replacing a loose or fatigued spring restores proper alignment and function.

Signs Your Machine Parts Need Replacement

Be on the lookout for these red flags:

Cigarettes come out loose or uneven

Machine makes grinding or straining sounds

Tobacco often jams or doesn’t load correctly

Cigarette tubes bend or split during rolling

Rolling process feels unusually slow

If you're using a popular brand like Powermatic, Fresh Choice, or Top-O-Matic, replacement parts are readily available from trusted sources like Hardworking Products.

Where to Get Quality Replacement Parts

Not all parts are created equal. Choose OEM (Original Equipment Manufacturer) or high-quality aftermarket parts from reliable vendors.

Top Recommendation: ✅ Hardworking Products – Offers authentic cigarette machine parts for Powermatic 3, Fresh Choice, Revolution, and more.

They stock:

Electric cigarette machine parts

Injection nozzles

Tobacco trays

Motors and springs

Manual crank handles

Expert Tips to Keep Your Machine Rolling Smoothly

Clean after every 20–30 uses to remove fine tobacco dust

Lubricate moving parts lightly (check your model manual)

Store in a dry place to prevent moisture damage

Inspect parts monthly if you roll regularly

Real-Life Example: Fixing a Powermatic 3

Case: A user complained their Powermatic 3 began producing loose rolls after 8 months. Solution: Replaced the spoon injector and cleaned the nozzle. Result: Cigarettes came out firm and consistent again — problem solved without replacing the whole machine.

FAQs

What part wears out the fastest in electric rolling machines?

The injector nozzle and spoon assembly tend to wear out first due to constant movement and contact with dry tobacco.

Can I fix my machine myself?

Yes! Many replacement parts are user-friendly. Just ensure you order the correct part for your model and follow included instructions or tutorial videos.

How often should I replace cigarette machine parts?

It depends on usage. Heavy users may need to replace components every 6–12 months, while casual users may go 2–3 years before needing parts.

Are Powermatic 3 parts different from other machines?

Yes, the Powermatic 3 is a fully automatic electric machine, so its parts (like motors and circuit boards) differ from manual machines. Always buy model-specific replacements.

Where can I find parts for Fresh Choice or Revolution machines?

You can find original and aftermarket parts for all major machines at Hardworking Products.

Final Thoughts

Your cigarette rolling machine is only as good as the parts inside it. Whether you're using a manual roller or an advanced electric cigarette machine, maintaining and replacing worn components is the smartest way to get consistent, high-quality rolls. Don’t waste time and tobacco—upgrade your machine with precision parts and feel the difference instantly.

For the best selection of rolling machine parts and support, visit: 👉 HardworkingProducts.com

[sadik165]

Cigarette Production Machines: Advancing the Tobacco Industry

The demand for high-quality cigarettes has led to significant advancements in cigarette production machines worldwide. These machines play a crucial role in the efficiency and precision of cigarette manufacturing, ensuring consistency, cost-effectiveness, and large-scale production. In countries like Iran, the need for modern industrial cigarette making machines in Iran has grown as the tobacco industry continues to expand.

This article explores the importance of cigarette production machines, their benefits, and the role of tobacco machine manufacturing companies in Iran in shaping the industry.

What Are Cigarette Production Machines in Iran?

Cigarette production machines in Iran are specialized equipment designed to automate the process of cigarette manufacturing. These machines handle various stages, including tobacco processing, rolling, filter attachment, and packaging. Advanced technology in cigarette manufacturing machines in Iran has made production faster and more efficient, meeting the rising demand for tobacco products.

How Industrial Cigarette Making Machines in Iran Operate

Modern industrial cigarette making machines in Iran work through a series of automated processes to ensure precision and quality. These include:

Tobacco Preparation – The tobacco is cut, dried, and processed to achieve the desired texture.

Cigarette Formation – Machines roll the tobacco into paper tubes, maintaining uniformity.

Filter Attachment – Filters are automatically added to ensure consistency.

Quality Control – The system inspects each cigarette for defects.

Packaging and Labeling – Finally, the cigarettes are packed and labeled for distribution.

The use of tobacco manufacturing machines in Iran ensures that each step is executed with high efficiency, reducing waste and increasing output.

Benefits of Cigarette Production Machines

Investing in modern cigarette production machines in Iran offers numerous advantages:

Higher Production Speeds – Machines can produce thousands of cigarettes per hour.

Consistent Quality – Automated systems ensure uniform size and weight.

Cost Efficiency – Reducing manual labor lowers overall production costs.

Less Material Waste – Precision cutting and rolling minimize waste.

With these benefits, cigarette manufacturing machines in Iran are essential for any large-scale production facility.

The Role of Tobacco Machine Manufacturing Companies in Iran

The increasing demand for cigarettes has led to the rise of tobacco machine manufacturing companies in Iran. These companies develop and supply advanced machinery to enhance the efficiency of production. Their focus on innovation has contributed to the country’s growing self-sufficiency in the tobacco sector.

Why Budhan Stands Out in the Industry

When it comes to high-quality cigarette production machines in Iran, Budhan is a trusted name. Known for its advanced engineering and cutting-edge technology, Budhan provides reliable and efficient solutions for cigarette manufacturing. Their machines are designed to maximize productivity, reduce waste, and ensure superior product quality, making them a preferred choice for manufacturers.

Conclusion

The tobacco industry relies heavily on cigarette production machines for large-scale, high-quality production. With advancements in cigarette manufacturing machines in Iran, the process has become more efficient, cost-effective, and precise. As the demand for cigarettes continues to grow, innovation in production technology will play a crucial role in meeting market needs.

[thendrawtwo]

Hardcase Day 2

It wasn't my choice to wake up today. My rooms lights came on full bright and I was awoken with them, I jumped over to the wall to turn them down and saw my rooms vid-screen held instructions for the day.

Report to Cutter's Line

I sighed, slammed the big RECEIVED button, it was the only button on the wall mounted console, and turned to look into the room. It wasn't as bad as it could have been; the table in the middle was covered in my clothes from yesterday, the small bare bed in the corner has it's single sheet crumpled to one side. I stumbled through to the bathroom and looked at myself in the mirror for the first time in a few days. My hair had grown longer than I liked so I wet it and slicked it back as far as I could, but it rebelled and pushed itself forward again into a messy mop. This wasn't a fight I was willing to have so I splashed my face to wake myself up properly and stumbled back into the main room and scanned properly. Over on the far side, folded up were the rest of my clothes, it didn't take long to find my more hardy work gear; a stained light shirt, a pair of heavy pants with extra pockets and heavy jacket. I pulled on the shirt and pants held the jacket up. On the back, someone had used some kind of paint to write the words South of Paradise over the Heliopause logo. The jacket had been a gift from someone, belonged to someone long dead and I didn't know if South of Paradise was a ship, a gang or just a catchy slogan. The inside had been cut open in places, creating extra secret pockets, used to hide weapons and contraband; not my business. I put the jacket on and took one last look at myself in the mirror, almost a professional.

Arriving at Cutter's Line I looked around for Erin, or an evidence of what might have been in the package but couldn't find anything. It wasn't long before Dean, the big boss around here found me and came over. He held a clipboard and flicked through a couple of pages as he talked. He talked slow and deliberate, without any humour as he ran through typical safety procedures; occasionally he looked up and I could see the boredom in his eyes. Eventually he turned the clipboard towards me and gave me the job; they had a couple of small salvage jobs come in and I was to help finish the job. Probably be a few days work but it meant pay. He gave me a choice; an old Surveillance Eye or an old Mine. The Mine probably didn't work, but the pay would be double. And I couldn't tell you why, but something about the Eye spoke to me. I remember thinking about the Old Dogs yesterday, maybe there was an answer somewhere and this old says footage could help. I took up the job and started to work.

The Surveillance Eye was about the size of my room, a giant orb with a glass panel on one pole, but instead of being filled with empty food boxes and cigarette packets, it was filled with all the machinery and magic it needed to fly, spy and record our every move. Something about slowly taking apart revealing the Eye to the world felt liberating. Like getting revenge on an old enemy.

The first part went well, taking off the outer casing, making my way towards the actual machine. I managed to get that off and reveal it's mechanisms with ease, but that was where it started to go wrong, I realised I didn't have the tools needed for the more delicate work and no one else in the Line was willing to share, especially the ones who got stuck working the Mine. I stood for a while just scanning across the exposed wiring and machinery of the satellite, figuring out which tubes sent secrets to where and which kept the Eye alive, when it was.

I spent so long working the outer casing off, and so long thinking about the machine that I didn't even realise everyone else had left the hard before Dean came and clapped me on the shoulder, telling me to go home.

I went to a small shop just outside the Line and bought a toolkit so I could crack the rest of the machine and then stumbled home.

I hung the work clothes up, easier to find tomorrow and got in to bed. It was only after laying down I realised I hadn't eaten today, but tiredness took over and sleep came quick.

This is a days entry in the journalling game HARDCASE by Thursday Garreau. If this intrigued you, you could find this game and many others at their Itch, which I implore you to visit.

Below you will find images of my character sheet and the log for Week 1, so far.

This sessions listening was Nothing & Nowhere by The Birthday Massacre

You can follow me at wheeleigh@bsky.social

[electriccigarettem]

Tobacco Rolling Guide: How to Roll the Perfect Cigarette

Rolling your own cigarettes (RYO) allows you to control the quality, flavor, and strength of your smoke while saving money. Whether you prefer hand-rolled cigarettes or machine-rolled smokes, this guide covers the best techniques, materials, and tips for rolling like a pro.

1. Choosing the Right Rolling Paper

The type of rolling paper you use affects the burn rate, flavor, and overall smoking experience.

Types of Rolling Papers:

📜 Regular Papers: Classic, easy to use, available in standard or king-size. 🍂 Hemp Papers: Made from organic hemp, offering a slow burn with a mild flavor. 🌿 Rice Papers: Ultra-thin, burns cleanly with minimal ash. ⚡ Flavored Papers: Infused with flavors like vanilla, chocolate, or fruit.

💡 Tip: If you want a slower burn, hemp or rice papers are your best options.

2. Selecting the Best Tobacco

The right tobacco ensures a smooth, satisfying smoke.

Tobacco Types:

🔹 Virginia Tobacco: Light, slightly sweet, commonly used in commercial cigarettes. 🔹 Burley Tobacco: Stronger and more full-bodied, ideal for robust flavors. 🔹 Oriental Tobacco: Earthy and aromatic, often found in European blends.

💡 Tip: If your tobacco is too dry, it will burn fast; if it’s too moist, it may not burn evenly. Store it in an airtight container to maintain freshness.

3. Hand-Rolling a Cigarette (No Filter)

Step-by-Step Guide:

1️⃣ Prepare the Paper: Hold a rolling paper with the gummed edge facing up. 2️⃣ Spread the Tobacco: Evenly distribute tobacco across the paper. 3️⃣ Shape the Cigarette: Pinch the paper between your fingers and begin rolling it back and forth. 4️⃣ Tuck and Roll: Once the tobacco is packed, tuck the non-gummed edge under and roll upward. 5️⃣ Seal the Cigarette: Lick the gummed edge and press down to secure.

💡 Tip: Rolling too tight restricts airflow, while rolling too loose causes uneven burning.

4. Rolling with a Filter

A filter reduces harshness and catches excess tar.

How to Roll with a Filter:

1️⃣ Place the Filter: Insert a pre-made filter tip or rolled cardboard at one end of the paper. 2️⃣ Distribute the Tobacco: Spread it evenly, making sure it’s not too tight. 3️⃣ Roll & Seal: Follow the same steps as hand-rolling, ensuring the filter stays in place.

💡 Tip: Filter tubes make rolling even easier with an injector machine.

5. Using a Cigarette Rolling Machine

If you want perfectly shaped cigarettes, a rolling machine is the best tool.

Steps to Use a Rolling Machine:

1️⃣ Load the Machine: Open the rollers and spread tobacco evenly. 2️⃣ Insert the Paper: Place a rolling paper with the gummed edge facing you. 3️⃣ Roll & Seal: Close the rollers, turn them to shape the cigarette, and lick the gummed edge before sealing. 4️⃣ Remove the Cigarette: Open the machine and enjoy your perfectly rolled smoke.

💡 Tip: Electric rolling machines speed up the process and ensure consistent packing.

6. Common Rolling Mistakes & Fixes

🚫 Too Loose? Add more tobacco and roll tighter. 🚫 Too Tight? Loosen the grip while rolling. 🚫 Uneven Burn? Use higher-quality tobacco and roll evenly. 🚫 Paper Rips? Use thicker papers or dampen your fingers slightly before rolling.

Conclusion

Rolling your own cigarettes gives you custom control over flavor, strength, and burn rate. Whether you prefer hand-rolling or using a machine, practice makes perfect!

[tobaccogeneral01]

Gambler Filter Tubes King Size Full Flavor: A Cost-Effective and Convenient Solution for Rolling Your Own Cigarettes

The Gambler Filter Tubes King Size Full Flavor are an excellent choice for smokers who prefer to roll their own cigarettes, providing a convenient and cost-effective solution for those who enjoy a custom smoking experience. These filter tubes come in a box containing five cartons, each with 200 tubes, offering a substantial supply for regular users. Let's dive into the key features and benefits that make these filter tubes a preferred choice.

Key Features:

King Size Design: The Gambler Filter Tubes come in a King Size format, making them suitable for smokers who prefer longer cigarettes. King Size tubes typically offer a more comfortable smoking experience, as the extended length allows for a smoother draw. This design ensures a well-balanced smoke from start to finish, making it ideal for those who like a larger cigarette without having to roll it by hand.

Full Flavor Experience: These filter tubes are designed to deliver a full flavor smoking experience. The tubes have a smooth and consistent draw, providing a satisfying and rich taste with every puff. The full flavor design ensures that smokers get the most out of their tobacco blend, creating a fulfilling experience. Whether you’re using these tubes with mild or bold tobacco, they enhance the flavor profile, making them a versatile choice for different preferences.

Convenient and Cost-Effective: One of the biggest advantages of the Gambler Filter Tubes is the convenience they provide. By purchasing a bulk quantity—five cartons with 200 tubes per carton—smokers save money in the long run compared to buying pre-rolled cigarettes. For those who regularly roll their own cigarettes, this bulk package offers both convenience and affordability. The easy-to-use design allows you to quickly fill the tubes with your preferred tobacco, saving time without compromising on quality.

Sealed for Freshness: To maintain the tubes' integrity and quality, the Gambler Filter Tubes are sealed for freshness. This packaging ensures that the tubes stay clean and dry, which is important for achieving the best smoking experience. The sealing process also helps to preserve the flavor of the tubes and keep them in optimal condition until you're ready to use them. Whether you're storing the tubes for a short time or a longer period, the sealed packaging helps to prevent exposure to environmental factors that could degrade the tubes' quality.

Perfect for DIY Cigarette Rolling: These tubes are designed to be used with a cigarette rolling machine or by hand, providing flexibility for smokers. They’re ideal for DIY enthusiasts who like to control the amount of tobacco used in each cigarette. The filter tubes are pre-formed and feature a built-in filter, which helps to reduce tar and nicotine content in the smoke, leading to a cleaner, smoother smoking experience. Smokers can fill the tubes with their desired amount of tobacco, ensuring each cigarette is tailored to their personal preferences.

Durable Construction: Gambler Filter Tubes are made with durable, high-quality paper that is both sturdy and lightweight. This material ensures that the tubes hold their shape during the rolling process and maintain their integrity while smoking. The strong construction prevents the tubes from tearing or falling apart while being filled, making them easy to work with and reliable.

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Gambler Filter Tubes King Size Full Flavor: Premium Quality and Great Value at PrimeWholesale

Gambler Filter Tubes King Size Full Flavor (5 Cartons of 200) at PrimeWholesale are the perfect solution for those who prefer rolling their own cigarettes without sacrificing taste or quality. These filter tubes are designed for a smooth and satisfying smoking experience, providing an ideal option for DIY cigarette makers looking for an affordable and premium product.

Why Choose Gambler Filter Tubes King Size Full Flavor?

Full Flavor Experience: These filter tubes are filled with a rich tobacco flavor, offering a satisfying and smooth taste with every puff. The full flavor design ensures that each cigarette you roll delivers the perfect blend of strength and smoothness.

High-Quality Material: Gambler Filter Tubes are made with high-quality paper and filters to provide a clean, consistent smoke. The tubes are designed to hold the perfect amount of tobacco and maintain their integrity during the rolling process, ensuring a reliable smoke every time.

Generous Quantity: Each package includes 5 cartons of 200 tubes, making it an excellent choice for regular smokers or those looking to stock up. With 1,000 filter tubes in total, you’ll have plenty to last for an extended period, saving you money in the long run.

Convenient and Easy to Use: Rolling your own cigarettes has never been easier. These King Size tubes are designed to fit a standard cigarette rolling machine, providing a hassle-free experience with minimal effort and maximum satisfaction.

Cost-Effective: By rolling your own cigarettes, you can save a significant amount of money compared to buying pre-made cigarettes. Gambler Filter Tubes offer a premium experience at an affordable price, making them a great option for budget-conscious smokers.

Reliable and Consistent: With Gambler Filter Tubes, you can count on consistent quality and a dependable smoke every time. Their strong filters ensure a smooth draw, while the sturdy paper prevents unwanted tearing or damage during use.

Perfect for DIY Smokers: Whether you’re an experienced roll-your-own smoker or just getting started, these tubes provide a high-quality base for creating your perfect cigarette. The King Size design offers a longer smoking session for those who prefer a larger cigarette.

For an affordable, high-quality smoking experience, Gambler Filter Tubes King Size Full Flavor are a fantastic choice. Enjoy smooth, flavorful cigarettes that are easy to roll and perfect for everyday use.

[earthgoddesspersonas]

The adventures of Mary, the Time, Traveler, and her AI robot helper Timmy.

Mary talks about her metaverse job.

“Timmy. Guess what they had me doing at my Metaverse job today. For my food ration cards. I had to go to a different warehouse in the metaverse, navigate my way there with a Metaverse Uber, but they’re only speaking robotic at the moment, not human. So I get dropped off to another office and I have to get my avatar to walk up 20 flights of stairs because the elevators are out of order. Then I go into a room where there are other avatars in there. And I just sit down at the computer, and I have to sit there and observe and watch on the holographic screen, a human family from the past. Then I have to document all my observations of this family. They’re not even criminals. They’re not doing anything wrong, just sitting in their homes. They don’t know they’re being watched. I had to document all of the data of what they were doing. Then make a fucking graph of statistics. And I have to put it in a secret file in a location that’s off-limits to humans. So I’m thinking what alien species is going to try grab our data now?”

Timmy: “just like it happened before with the Greys.”

Mary: “Exactly Timmy. Why am I sitting in the metaverse wasting my time in front of a screen looking at the camera footage of a family. In the past, when families were more common. Is this a job? I want to go travel to the past I’ve had enough.

Mary and Timmy prepare to travel back in time.

Mary : “ Where is the lighter? ( she sparks up a cigarette ) I hate this new puff counter robotic cigarettes. There’s machines everywhere now. I know Timmy , no offence to you . I’ve just received an emergency transmission from the past. ( Mary inspects her Time Machine by looking into it through a tube. Sort of like a telescope.) 2022 the transmission is from. Oh no Timmy, Big trouble! Let me listen. (Mary puts her ear to the Time Machine)

transmission: “Help! Men are being infiltrated!”

Mary : “ oh no it’s that frequency! The corrupted one. They’re using it on the humans Timmy, on the human men! Shit, it’s like that time they did that experiment with the frequency, testing it on chimpanzees. It made all the male chimpanzee psychotic, and they started attacking and killing the female chimpanzees. So they had to put all the male ones down. Shit that’s bad Timmy. I’m hearing children crying. Mothers screaming. Police sirens . This is really bad. Come on we gotta go back . I just gotta charge up first. You charge up too. (Mary lies down on the body charging machine)

Mary : “Oh that’s good . I love charging up on my god.”

Body charging machine : “ Energy sufficiently charged.”

Mary : “ I can’t wait to see the humans from the past. They smell good Timmy. Look at how cute they are in 2022! Look at their cars. So classic.”

Mary’s subconscious thoughts which she isn’t immediately aware of: “ I go back in time from the future. But it makes no difference. It’s the same thing again and again. My ancestors dead. Their ancestors forgotten. Even if six of me came back. At least I still remember some of the old magic. Magic from the earth. Knowledge of the old gods and goddesses. And I use magic. I’m probably the only one left who does! We need magic to defeat these kinds of enemies that use sound frequency machines on us.”