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[lucyandalexiafan]

Hopeless | reader x Alexia Putellas | part 1

Summary: you’re alone, even though you were part of the Barça team, you were alone. You thought being part of it meant feeling supported, liked, maybe even part of a family, but that wasn’t the case.

Warnings: angst (and fluff in the end)

Words: 4.4k

It's thanks to @muffinpink02 that this fic is seeing the light. When months ago I wrote the first part I was scared to send it to you because I thought it was boring or repetitive, but, from the beginning, you supported and hyped me during the writing process, suggesting ideas and correcting them every time I sent you even just three sentences. I'm so grateful you helped me so much 🫂

You had never really felt part of something.

Of any group.

Of any friendship.

It was as if the people around you found their people, their friendships, their relationships, but not in you.

You were motionless, with nothing and no one.

Football had been a good relief valve.

A tool useful to not think about it.

To not think about how lonely you felt.

About how everyone seemed to treat you as extra, as not necessary.

About how everyone seemed to exclude you when you were least needed or at the first opportunity.

It had been painful at first, you cried and wondered what was wrong.

Why did it always happen?

And it happened in football too, with every team you played for.

With the boys from the team when you were just a kid, who included the other girls but not you; with the first girls’ team and with the first youth teams.

You always seemed to be extra.

To be too much.

You felt too much.

Except on the field.

On the field you were good.

You were really good at football.

You had poured out every bad thought, anxiety, resentment, and self-hatred on the field, chasing those balls and perfection, trying to achieve the best possible performance and the best teams.

The possibility of changing cities, maybe countries, pushed you to play better and better. The hope of finding your place, the hope that that place was elsewhere but findable, had driven you to give your all.

And this had paid off when the Barça talent scout contacted you.

Your parents didn't care much, you were of age, you could do what you wanted. So shortly after, you boarded a plane to Barcelona, a suitcase of clothes with you and many hopes.

But it had been difficult.

Your young age had mainly put you in contact with the youngest of the team, but they seemed so carefree and spoke so little English that you felt out of place.

With the older ones, you were out of place because what did you have in common with them? With the great Alexia Putellas, with Fridolina Rolfo, what could you possibly have in common? They were so perfect, and talented.

So over time, you ended up isolating yourself, reveling in the same loneliness that had always accompanied you, in that awful but familiar feeling of not being in the right place.

You lived alone, so you could drown every tear in the pillow every time you came back from training. You could cry undisturbed at any time of the day, every time you saw your teammates' stories of them going out together and not being invited, having dinners and not being invited.

It was an endless whirlwind you had fallen into. You isolated yourself by refusing any contact, always feeling like too much, and people stopped trying.

In the end, you were good at football, your performances were excellent, and you behaved perfectly during training. What more could they want from you?

Maybe you had hoped that, seeing how they were all so closed off, they would include you, they would fight harder to help you and include you.

But it hadn't happened, or at least you hadn't experienced it that way.

You had spent Christmas alone in Barcelona and so was New Year's Eve. No one to celebrate within your hometown, no one to celebrate with in Barcelona; your parents traveling who knows where happy not to have to spend money on you anymore.

You had burst into tears, into a panic attack, a few days after training started.

Everyone talked about their holidays.

Family dinners.

Family games.

Friends reunited.

New Year's parties.

You avoided those questions, avoiding the conversations as soon as holidays were mentioned.

What were you supposed to say?

You would have just seemed pathetic, lonely, useless. You already felt that way, you didn't need them to know.

Then, the umpteenth time they tried, they managed to ask you what you had done during the holidays.

You lied.

You said you had gone home and everything was quiet.

Then, as soon as lunch was over, you ran out of the room and took refuge in a small gym in an isolated spot in the sports center.

You put on your headphones and started punching the boxing bag.

The music in the headphones and the tears on your cheeks.

Why weren't you like them?

Why was no one with you?

Why were you so alone?

You were wasting so much time of your life because of loneliness that it almost felt like living the same days over and over again.

The same identical routine, the same cycle of actions, every day, all days.

You collapsed to the ground, your body flooded with sobs, your throat contracted by moans of pain.

You felt pathetic, there on that floor crying over a fate that seemed to be yours, crying over a plot already written.

Then the door of the room had opened and you had stared at it in fear.

Alexia and Mapi had entered, a sigh of relief escaping their mouths when they recognized you.

"You're here! Dios we looked for you everywhere! Do you know what- are you crying?"

You huddled against the wall.

Her angry tone, that angry captain's tone that you had only heard once in the locker room, terrified you.

If you were already insignificant to the team, what would happen now with her that is mad?

You tried to please her, to at least feel accepted by her.

You shake your head as you stand up, your hands immediately wiping your cheeks.

Mapi takes you by the shoulders.

“What happened? Are you injured?"

You shake your head again, you move in an attempt to free yourself from her grip.

The only thing that mattered to them about you was football. It was that you could play, that you made the right passes and the perfect assists.

What did they care about how you really are?

"Then why are you crying? - you try to leave, to get away - No, stop! I said stop!"

You freeze in place, eyes fixed on the floor.

That low, angry, warning tone, almost daring to challenge her.

"Now you tell us why you're crying."

You looked at her.

Should you tell the truth?

Admit to the two of them what you really felt?

That storm of dissatisfaction and sadness?

That feeling of loneliness and apathy that hung over your life?

"Can you hug me?" You whispered looking at her, tears covering your eyes, in an attempt to receive, at least once, the love you were seeking so much.

Mapi's arms wrapped around your body without hesitation. Her strong arms held you close to her, your cheek against her shoulder, your hands gripping the edges of her shirt, tears wetting the fabric at shoulder height.

"I'm sorry" you whisper "I'm pathetic."

Mapi hugs you again.

"Don't say that, it's not true. Do you want to tell me what's going on?"

You bite your lip, your eyes now fixed on the window.

"I didn't spend Christmas and New Year's Eve at home, but in Barcelona."

"Did your family come here? Why didn't you-"

"Alone, I don't know where my parents were and I had no one to celebrate with."

There's silence.

An embarrassing, humiliating, silence.

You feel even worse.

Even more pathetic.

Even more stupid.

Why did you admit it?

For what reason -

"What do you mean you had no one?"

"I don't have friends" you answer flatly.

It was true.

You had no one.

"You could have asked us, we-"

"What? Would you have taken a burden like me to celebrate with at your home? - you laugh sarcastically - Don't lie, you're indifferent to me. Whether I'm there or not doesn't change anything for you, just like it doesn't change anything for anyone on the team."

"Don't even think about it" Alexia's voice is dangerously low "You matter to the team-"

"Oh yeah? I see it. You go out without me, you don't care about me, I'm useless if not on the field."

Silence.

Deaf, powerful, silence.

What could they say to deny what you said?

It's true.

They go out without you.

They have fun without you.

They party and celebrate games.

“Listen - you close your eyes to Alexia's voice - I'm sure the situation isn't-”

“Have you saved my number in your contacts? - she looks at you, her eyes widening - do you see it? We've been playing together for months, we're in at least three WhatsApp groups together, and you've never saved my number. Why should you? Like I said, I don't matter, why would you ever feel the need to contact me? And I'm not talking about social media, following me on Instagram or anything, but my phone number, and you're my captain, aren't you?”

You shake your head frustrated.

You know you could pay the consequences for this behavior in the future. You're yelling in the face of Alexia Putellas, your captain, in front of another person. Alexia has made your teammates run entire training sessions for far lesser things than this lack of respect.

Maybe you don't care.

Maybe you want her to make you run because it means that someone, somehow, noticed you.

You leave the gym, leaving the two women completely still, thinking.

After that discussion, you went to that room for another technical meeting. As always, you sat at the back, a notebook on the desk and a pen in hand, pretending to be attentive and the chance to keep your head down.

A part of you had hoped that by talking about it, by angrily spitting out how you felt against them, they would do something.

That they would take a step towards you.

That they would include you.

But it didn't happen.

As usual, at the end of the first part of the technical session, you went to get a coffee from a coffee machine, in complete loneliness, and no one approached you.

You went back inside, and sat at your desk, headphones in your ears, until you resumed the meeting.

You usually put your phone on "Do Not Disturb,"

You usually put your phone on "Do Not Disturb," trying to convince yourself that the lack of notifications meant you were unreachable, but in truth, no one was looking for you.

No one wrote to you.

No one invited you out.

You left it on without "Do Not Disturb" all day.

You obsessively checked your phone for any pretext.

The time.

The schedule of university classes.

Exam dates.

Training times.

Making sure that the next day was a day off.

Anything to try to find a notification.

But nothing.

Complete silence.

Had you been wrong to shout how you felt, to open up for once?

You had been pathetic, you knew it, but you couldn't stand this feeling anymore.

This feeling that eats away at you from the inside.

Of this acid that was melting you from the inside.

You couldn't live it anymore.

So you had hoped that by opening up things would change, but, like that day, the next one there were no messages.

No notifications.

No calls.

You had locked yourself in the house.

The fetal position on the bed, the nausea that closed your stomach.

How could you have been so stupid?

Why should they ever do anything?

You had remained curled up since you woke up until dinner time.

Nothing at all.

No notifications.

No calls.

The only time your phone rang, you jumped up on the bed.

The hope that someone had contacted you, the hope of counting.

The hope that what you had done had made sense.

But it was the Barça staff warning you that there was no training the next day.

For the rest, nothing.

No sound filled that emptiness of the apartment, of your body.

Yet you couldn't stop looking at the phone.

Hoping to receive a message, a call, or a like on social media.

Anything.

Any sign.

You fell asleep like that, motionless and in the same position as when you got up.

The emptiness inside that had engulfed you and the whole apartment in a black hole of sadness, resentment, nausea, and fatigue.

What was wrong with you?

The next day you forced yourself to get out of bed, make coffee, and eat something.

Anything to feed that exhausted body.

You struggled to swallow the food, to chew it, to tolerate its taste.

Everything bothered you.

Every taste made you want to vomit.

Every sound irritated you to the point of plugging your ears.

The emptiest, most useless, days of your life.

The bottom that you had finally reached. You had crashed into it, actually, with such an impact that it didn't allow you to move even a finger, not that you wanted to, move it.

The next day you forced yourself to get up, knowing that you had to reach the sports center to go to the airport to play the match.

You didn't want to go there, you didn't want to leave the house, you didn't want to see anyone, let alone play.

But you forced yourself to put on the usual Barça tracksuit that you once were excited to wear and to pick up the bag, the apartment keys in the other, and close the door's house behind you with a dry sound that echoed in the empty corridor.

Had it always been so empty?

You got on the bus with less strength than you had at the end of a strenuous match.

You sat in the same place, always alone and always near the window. The feeling that, as always, no one would sit next to you was strong, it exploded in your chest like your desire to cry, to scream that you were hurt, that you didn't want to continue to live in this way.

And so it had been.

No one had sat down.

On the opposite side of the pair of your seats were, as always, Marta and Caroline. You avoided looking at them, because this would have meant contemplating their silent and shy love, their reserved way of showing love.

Their intertwined hands.

The barely hinted smiles.

The shared headphones.

It was too much.

That love so sweet, so reserved, was too much to observe from afar, from the outside.

It seemed so unrealistic for you, for your life, that seeing it come true for someone else burned inside, wore you out.

Then you had arrived at the airport, got on the plane and got off. Someone from the staff had sat next to you, but no one to whom you attached much importance.

"Okay, the rooms are doubles."

Your nightmare.

The thing you hated most was the double rooms.

You wanted to cry in the shower, groan as the water ran down your cheeks and along your chin, and lean your back and head against the wall in an attempt not to suffer too much from the sobs.

Double rooms prevented you from having that privacy, that vital space, during away matches.

Those matches that until the first week, you had so excited about, so wanted to play, but which now had turned out to be just your worst nightmare.

A mixture of anxiety, anger, and sadness.

“Lucia and Maria, Ingrid and Ona.. you two seem to be the last - Jona had said, the tone almost bored, as he gave the key to your room to Alexia - The rules for away games are the same, double rooms or not. Please.”

Alexia had clapped her hands telling everyone to go to the rooms.

You had followed her with your head down, the whole team in front of you and you behind her. She seemed relaxed, her pace calm and her shoulders relaxed, one hand holding the trolley handle, her hair tied up.

You entered the room, she first, and you followed.

“Which bed do you want? - you look at her silently hoping she expresses a preference - you usually sit facing the door, so I suppose this one is better because from here you can see it”

You stare at her.

Wide-eyed.

How does she know?

When did she notice?

“So? - she chuckles - Is this okay?”

You nod cautiously, hesitantly, looking at the bed. A part of you thinks she'll sit on that one, telling you that she'll take it then, that she'll do it to punish you for what happened.

But she moves to the other one and puts her suitcase in it.

You look at her confused.

"Are you not taking off your backpack?"

You blink a couple of times, getting out of your thoughts and moving towards yours, turn your back to her, and lay it on the bed. 

You don't know what to do. 

You hear her opening and moving things around. 

How many things did she bring with her? 

Usually, when there are double rooms, they put you with someone from Barça B, what do people like her do during away games? 

Does she go to bed early? 

Does she eat in her room after dinner? 

Does she watch a movie? 

How should you behave?

"Hey - you turn abruptly - it’s okay for you if we talk?" She asks, her voice cautious. 

You don't answer. 

You just look at her. 

Talk about what? 

How she'll get you out of the team? 

How pathetic are you? 

Talk about what?

She sits on her bed slowly, legs crossed, hands on her feet. 

You are standing, arms along your body, hands open on your thighs. 

You both remain silent. 

She looks at you, trying not to show it, but she's nervous, she's agitated. 

You already want to leave. 

Turn towards the door and exit from this room. 

The claustrophobia explodes, and the air seems not to enter your lungs.

Months ago you would have jumped for joy knowing you would share the room with her, with Alexia Putellas, two Ballon d’Or and one of the best players in the world.

You wouldn't have been able to contain your excitement at the thought of spending time with her, even if spending time alone with her. 

Now all you want to do is disappear, to escape as far away as possible from her.

"Where do you want me to sit?"

"Wherever you want, on your bed or mine - you look at her, not knowing what to do - Why don't you sit next to me?"

You nod hesitantly, even though you know it's a rhetorical question. 

She moves towards the headboard of the bed, legs crossed. 

You sit down facing her, legs crossed, hands on your thighs. 

You don't look at her. 

You feel her hesitate, sighs that seem to suggest several times that she tried to say something but stopped before making a sound.

"Have you ever been to the Canary Islands?" - you shake your head - "Perfect, what do you think about going out for something to eat together?"

You look at her, eyebrows raised in surprise.

"Cap-Jona said that... the rules are the same and we can't go out," you respond hesitantly.

Why is she asking you? 

Does she want you to break the rules? 

Does she want a reason to kick you out? 

Does she want a reason to punish you, to get back at you for three days ago? 

You clench the fingers of one hand into the other.

Why is she doing this? 

What does she want from you?

She shrugs. "Being captain has its advantages - she smiles a bit cocky, a bit hesitant - No one will find out, I promise," and she moves her pinky towards you.

You look at her confused. 

You understand the reference to "Cross my heart," but you can't believe she's actually doing it. 

It's also a bit comical, the great Alexia Putellas moving her pinky toward you, swearing that no one will find out if you break the rules. 

Never in a million years did you think it was possible.

She withdraws her hand, palm against her thigh. "I know a good place that does street food, you know, fish and chips but also burgers, and they also do vegetarian food and I know you're vegetarian. If you feel like it, we can go."

Her voice is hesitant, and calm, her posture stiff.

Should you trust her? 

Not that you have many options and you would do anything to get out of this room, out of this hole surrounded by four walls that you're forced to share with her. 

And outdoors she can't do anything to you, right?

You nod hesitantly. "I'd like that."

Almost a whisper, a faint combination of timid and frightened words.

She smiles.

"Do you have casual clothes? Like a hoodie and pants - you nod - Great! Then put them on and let's go."

You watch her as she stands up.

Do you really want to eat with her? 

How long has it been since you went out with someone? 

You feel the tears in your eyes as you dress. 

You put on a simple shirt and baggy jeans, an attempt to hide, to not be visible. 

Are you really that alone?

Probably yes, you can't remember the last time you went out with someone. 

That you did something other than going to training, games, or grocery shopping. 

Why is your life so empty?

If you didn't work, would you have opportunities to leave the house? 

Reasons to do it? 

People to do it with?

You try to think about it, to think about the last time you went out because you wanted to, because you had to meet someone, but your mind is empty. Your thoughts run through the narrow paths of the labyrinth of your memories, but nothing refers to outings.

You close your eyes.

You can't cry.

Not now.

Not with her.

Not now that maybe you're going out with someone.

Not now that someone has invited you out, has asked you to do something together.

No matter the reason, you know she asked you to talk about what happened, but at least you'll do something together.

When was the last time you ate out with someone?

Has it ever happened on occasions other than team or class dinners?

You bite your lip and walk to the bathroom.

You wet your face with cold water, the vain attempt to freeze the sadness, the anger, the bitterness.

How to erase it?

How can you stop these feelings?

You're wasting your life.

You dry your face, almost scraping it with the towel, almost wanting to scrape away that feeling, that self-hatred.

You leave the bathroom with your head down, still doubtful that Alexia really wants to go out with you breaking the rules.

"Ready? - you nod - Perfect, then let's go."

You put your phone in your pocket and follow her out the door, she closes it and then swipes the magnetic card on the lock.

Are you really going out together?

Is this really happening?

Where's the trap?

"Shall we take the elevator, is this okay for you?"

You nod, your voice seems to have disappeared, left in the room.

She hesitates, looking at you, then turns to the right side of the corridor and walks towards the end of it; you walk behind her, the blue of her jeans the only color in your field of vision besides the awful red of the carpet and white walls.

What will happen?

Was she serious?

You hear a metallic noise and see her walking into the elevator box, you follow her and she presses the zero button.

"Do you do this often, go out during away games?" you ask, your voice little more than a whisper as you watch her adjust her hair in the mirror.

"Usually I leave this opportunity to Irene, when her family travels to the cities where we have games, so she can spend time with them. But sometimes it happens, also because Marta just cares to spend time with Caro, it doesn't matter where they are."

She finishes fixing her hair and inside you the question of 'who do you take with you' is inflamed with curiosity.

Who does she go out with?

How many times does she do it?

The image of that rock-solid captain, rigid with rules and obsessive with timings is suddenly softened by this cocky, rebellious version.

"When María got injured, I went out with Ingrid a couple of times, she was scared of leaving her alone at home and walking was helping her - she smiles when she sees we are almost there - And when Jenni used to play with us, we usually went out to dinner together, but that’s a long time ago now."

You open your mouth, your eyes wide.

So it’s true that they were-

"Come on, let's go before we get caught," she ends the conversation before you can actually speak, a smile on her face knowing she has finally drawn out a reaction from you other than fear, doubt, or anxiety.

She walks quickly to a back exit.

"Can you ride a bike? - you nod - Okay, then let's take these bikes to go to the place I told you about. You're a vegetarian, right? The local tourist guides say it’s the place with the best vegetarian burgers on the whole island."

You bite your lip.

Where did she find out?

You never told anyone, only the staff knows, but you rarely eat in the canteen with them and when you do it’s so rare that it doesn’t arouse suspicion that you eat vegetarian.

"Do you like it?"

You nod while you struggle even to eat a fry.

But it really seemed good, and there were so many flavors and types of burgers, sandwiches, and condiments.

Did Alexia really think of you?

Did she really look it up to bring you here to eat?

You’re sitting on a pier, a somewhat hidden part of the beach, away from the road.

Just you and her.

Alexia had placed your dinner on the cold, damp wood, had taken out the two packs of baked fries and Coca-Cola and then placed them on the paper bag.

You watched her as she did it, the embarrassment of noticing the time she took to do everything precisely.

Is she always like this?

Then she asked you to sit in front of her so you could eat facing each other.

You hesitated but complied.

Then, as soon as your eyes met hers, your appetite, the desire to taste this amazing hamburger, disappeared.

That smell that until a moment ago seemed like the aroma of a great dinner, now only made you nauseous.

You grab the Coca-Cola and try to swallow a few sips, hoping the nausea will go away.

Alexia paid for dinner, fifteen euros and seventy cents each, she didn’t even let you take out your wallet.

You have to eat.

What will she think otherwise?

That she wasted money?

That you’re ungrateful?

You have to eat.

You try to eat another fry, your taste buds sending signals of disgust to your brain as soon as they come into contact with that flavor.

Is it anxiety?

Panic?

Fear?

"How do you feel?" She asks.

You freeze.

How do you feel?

Bad? Good? Sad? Angry? Hurt?

You don’t even know how you feel. That torment, that gurgling, in your stomach doesn’t stop, that flow of negative thoughts and anxieties doesn’t stop attacking you.

Maybe you should tell her you’re fine, that you’re nervous for the game but that everything is fine as always.

Even though nothing has been fine for as long as you can remember.

When has something ever gone well?

When was the last time you felt good?

Maybe when Barça signed you, when you got on that plane thinking another life would begin.

You close your eyes, you can’t cry.

But it’s true. Maybe that was the only happy moment after years of feeling nothing different than a constant state of apathy, of emptiness.

It was the only moment when you thought things would change, the last moment, the last time you let yourself hope.

So maybe that’s why you feel so bad now?

"Fine, you?" You answer mechanically.

The same response you always gave the medical staff, the training staff, those few journalists who found it interesting to interview you.

But you don’t look at her, you know she would realize it’s not true.

Empty eyes, rigid shoulders, clear signs of the effort it takes to lie again, for the umpteenth time.

"Can we skip the part where you pretend everything is okay?" She asks, the tone bored, irritated.

You clench your eyes as soon as your mind registers that the tone of voice is angry by your attempt to lie.

What should you say then?

What does she want you to say?

You sigh.

It’s a dead end, isn’t it?

You and her alone on a pier, at night, far from the hotel.

There’s no way out.

"Why do you ask?" You ask, your voice uncertain, a whisper.

"Because I care."

You laugh sarcastically by instinct, unable to control yourself.

That’s what your parents always say when they call you after months of silence, telling you that you’re ungrateful and that they care about you.

Then they don’t call for weeks.

Is there anyone who really cares about how you are?

Who really cares about you?

You don’t think so.

In the end, you’ve lived in many cities, met many people of different ages, experienced things with them.

Did any of them ever really care about you?

No.

Did anyone really want you in their life?

No.

You were just a pastime of the moment, the lady-in-waiting, the entertainment.

"Anxious for the match."

Another excuse, the umpteenth.

Another lie, the thousandth.

You don’t look at her face, you know that if you did, you would cry.

You try to take a bite of the hamburger, but you have to chew it for a long time to find the strength to swallow.

"Why? You’ve been playing as a starter since the beginning of the season."

You know she doesn’t believe you.

Why is she playing along?

You shrug.

"I always feel this way before matches."

"You never told me."

"You never asked."

There is silence.

You bite your tongue.

Couldn’t you keep quiet?

"Sorry," you whisper, scared.

Will she yell? You don’t want her to yell, to get even angrier.

She says nothing, you hear her drink the Coke.

"I get anxious playing with you because you’re the best in the world," you reply.

It’s a partial truth, you’re scared to play with them, not being up to par.

But the reality is you’re always anxious because you know you’re worth nothing to them, so you’re afraid that at the first mistake they will kick you out, bench you forever.

"You don’t have to, you’re really good."

You don’t answer, a compliment thrown to the wind.

She doesn’t really think that.

If she did, you would feel part of the team, right?

If you were that good, they would have included you, you would be part of the group, and not just a marginal ornament.

You eat in an awkward silence almost half of the food.

You don’t speak, she doesn’t speak.

You don’t look at her, she doesn’t seem to look at you.

What should you tell her?

She sighs. "Look at me."

You raise your head but avert your gaze into the void next to her head, pretending to see her without looking at her.

"My eyes are here," she reproaches you, the captain's voice, that gently authoritative tone.

"I would like to talk about what happened, but I know I can’t force you -"

"Yeah, exactly, maybe it’s better not to, forget it," you interrupt her.

You know she hates it when you interrupt her.

She hates being interrupted.

You see her put the sandwich down on the box.

You close your eyes.

"Okay, we can’t continue like this."

You don’t answer.

What should you say?

You don’t understand what she wants.

You don’t understand why you’re here.

You don’t understand anything.

"We need to talk"

"Why? Because we have to sleep in the same room? If you wanted to talk to me you would have done it sooner” you spit angrily.

You attack her.

You don't care about respect, the fact that she is the captain, that she is Alexia Putellas.

What might interest you if you have already hit rock bottom?

What depth can you still reach, that they stop talking to you?

Why, do they talk to you?

Alexia is silent.

A silence so punishing, so tense, it makes you want to cry.

Why doesn't she scream?

Is she bored already?

Do you want to go back to the hotel?

“Maybe we'd better go,” you continue, while placing your hands on the pier in an attempt to get up.

"Sit down"

“Otherwise, what do you do? – you reply bitterly, in the end what do you have to lose? – will you put me on the bench? Will you hit me?”

You laugh sarcastically.

Alexia is silent, so you continue in your attempt to get up.

“I took a few days to think about what happened, about what you said to me and María - she sighs - I asked her not to tell anyone about what happened, so only we and probably Ingrid know, given that María cried all night"

You tense up.

Cry?

Why did she cry?

Does Ingrid know?

Does she really believe you believe her?

Days to think?

“I asked Jona to put us in the room together because I wanted to talk to you but I didn't want to make you uncomfortable and talked to you about two days ago in front of the others, but then I thought it would be embarrassing to do it in the room”

You do not say anything.

What does she want to tell you?

That you're out of the team?

Are you pathetic?

You don't look at her, your eyes fixed on your mismatched socks visible due to your pin-hole shorts.

Anything to avoid looking at it.

“We should have figured it out, how you were doing, what was happening. Instead, we were focused on winning, on the matches, this year the only new player besides you was Ona, but she knew all of us, and we didn't think about the shock and difficulties that playing with us could bring, that moving to Barcelona would cause - look at her - We all made mistakes, me first, and I don't know what to do to improve the situation"

Honesty surprises you

“Sit down, please”

[monimccoythings]

A Little Break

Look, out of all the ways I expected my week to go, falling in love with the cocept of a sentient ball of Play-Doh that was made of three different children who were experimented on, that carries the weight of the world on his shoulders and has severe trauma and inferiority complex wasn't on my list. Doey was a great and tragic character, It's been very long since I've last seen some good and complex character. He deserved way better and we were robbed. Out of all the chapters to have different endings depending on your choices, this was the one that should have had that option. I really hope they bring him back if not for Chapter five, for the movie.

I just really had to write something for him, I couldn't get it out of my head. Reader is as gender neutral and as poc friendly as possible, can be interpreted as either platonic or romantic, whatever you wish.

━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦

It had all happened so fast. One moment Doey was there, right in front of you, being his cheery and goofy self, and the other he was groaning in pain as the freezing agents completely reduced his body to a giant block of ice.

Panic flowed through your mind. What had just happened!!??? Did he die??? What were going to tell to the inhabitants of Safe Haven?? Dread filled you at the thought of the Safe Heaven's protector having perished. Your brain went overdrive, brainstorming thousands of ideas to get yourselves out of this predictment.

And then you saw it. Old, heavy and metallic, a valve. Not thinking twice, you aimed your grabpack towards it.

The plastic hand attached itself to the valve with surprising ease, given that by that point it was a bit worse for the wear.

With great effort, the rusty valve, turned with a loud creak that resonated among the empty halls of that prison/laboratory.

"Hurts! HURTS HURTS HURTS!" The giant doughman lamented, panting heavily while doubling over. Your heart ached with sympathy. Slowly, you approached him as if the half a ton super strong and shapeshifting monster was some sort of scared little animal.

"Hey, are you okay?" You asked tentatively

"Yeah, yeah, just a nasty spook." It didn't sound very convincing, that freezing agent must had really done a number on him.

"Here, let's sit down for a bit, okay?." You encouraged, grabbing his massive hand with both of yours, ignoring his insistent reassurances that he was fine.

"I SAD I'M FINE." His free hand slammed against the brick wall, leaving a huge crater in the shape of his handprint, a harsh reminder that this creature in front of you wasn't really human, not anymore, and could easily tear you limb from limb with ease if he desired so. You thought you caught a glimpse of sharp red fangs in his usually empty mouth.

It felt like walking on eggshells, you had to measure very carefully your next words, as the usually goofy and kindhearted Doey seemed to be at his wits' end. Yet you couldn't just stand there and move to the next room as if nothing had happened and leave him to deal with his pain alone.

"No, you're not." You tried to keep yourself calm and composed, despite the persistent feeling of terror at his sudden outburst. "You're hurting, you can't keep going on like this. You need to rest."

"I. Can't. They are all depending on me, and time is not on our side. We need to end this now." His words were bitter, sharp, but they didn't have the dangerous edge they had before. That was good, you supposed.

"Please, I know that you carry a heavy burden on your shoulders, but I'd feel more at ease if we took a rest. Just a couple of minutes. Please." You knew it was wrong to take advantage of his Atlas complex and pathological need to take care of those at his charge to manipulate him into doing your bidding, but he needed to rest, no, he deserved to rest, and more so after that very painful experience.

He scrunched his eyes, having some sort of internal fight, before he finally relented with a long suffering sigh.

"Okay, but just a couple of minutes, nothing more."

Dragging his feet like a petulant child, he dropped to the floor, arms crossed, making the floor tremble slightly. You quietly followed and sat close to him, but still keeping some distance, just in case he decided to explode again. Even then, you could feel the coldness emanating from his skin as a result of the ice that had comoletely engulfed him merely seconds ago.

"You're cold." You stated.

"It'll pass." He tried to act nonchalantly, to rest importance to his own suffering, but the wince he let out while changed positions betrayed him.

You quickly disposed of your grabpack, possibly the only protection you had in this place, and quickly made work of your jacket and outershirt.

"Wha- what are you doing-"

"Shhh" You shushed him, drapping your pieces of clothing over his large frame, they looked comically tiny on him, like a baby blanket on a full grown adult. Still, you hoped they'd do the trick. "You said we don't have time to waste, maybe this will help you warm up faster."

He stood silent for a moment, his oval beady eyes made it impossible for you to know what crossed his mind.

"Oh... thank you..." You could tell he wasn't used to this, not being the caregiver. Having been used for so long to put everybody else's needs over his own it now felt awkward to suddenly be offered some comfort. Doey wasn't sure how to properly react to that aside from the obvious words of appreciation.

The two of you just sat in silence for the rest of your 'pause', afraid that if any of you spoke it would break that peaceful moment and bring you back into the harsh reality.

Doey had to reluctantly agree with Poppy on something.

You were truly special.

[pinkanonwrites]

EARTHSPARK TRANSFORMERS DILDOS AGAIN!!

Bumblebee finding the ✨Stinger✨ while going down a rabbit hole of his merch. He is too horrified to ask if Alex has one (he doesn’t)

Optimus finding one obviously based off him and wondering if he should release an official one. I mean, it would be good for human and cybertronian relations right? Right??

Elita finds the mother of all strap-ons that would make a size queen weep and is like “🫤 why did they make mine so small?”

Megatron finds one probably called the Destroyer or something and is just horrified. Elita probably sent it to him jokingly because if she has to see this shit then so does everyone else

Wheeljack probably has an officially branded vibrator he designed. Has the same reputation as those rose toys but people have passed out using it and swore they saw the face of God after

Arcee finds a pocket pussy based off of her and is like “bro cybertronian valve would shred your dick to pieces!” And so a pencil sharpener based off Arcee was made

The Earthspark 'Bots are split into three different categories depending on how they feel about having knock-off sex toys made of them. They are as follows:

Deeply Embarrassed: Bumblebee and Megatron

Tentatively Curious: Optimus and Elita One

Genuinely Hyped: Wheeljack and Arcee

It's the one piece of merchandise above all else that Bumblebee is glad Alex doesn't own. He's... flattered? Kinda? That there are humans out there that may be into what he's got going on. But he's mostly embarrassed, and hopes to Primus no one ever asks him about it because NO, he did NOT sign off on this!

Meanwhile Megatron's is one of those three-foot tall ones that weighs like 60 pounds, custom textured with mechanical plating and details. He's confused that it even exists; There's no way any human on Earth can fit that thing into one of their tiny little holes, is there? It takes him a second to remember that humans are incredibly versatile, and insertion isn't they only way to have fun, then he gets supremely flustered.

Optimus is a little bit embarrassed, though not nearly as much as Megs or Bee. Despite this, the fact that there's even an interest in these sort of things gives him hope that humans and Cybertronians will be able to live in peace. Just gotta get past some... awkward speed bumps first.

Elita is impressed. Mainly because she hadn't really thought humans would be interested in Transformers in that way, so she's actually a little tickled by the idea of Cybertronians being desirable enough to humans for a whole adult toy line. She has a few qualms that the femme false spikes seem to always be more dainty than the mech ones, but she has no plans to whip it out for any designers so she can't really complain.

Wheeljack is sending signed designs with elaborate detail charts and specifics about strength and material and battery life. If it's gonna be associated with him anyway, why wouldn't he want it to be the best of the best? Let the humans have their fun, and it doesn't hurt to make a little money on the side to fund some research projects and base repairs.

Meanwhile Arcee is having fun messing with the toy designers by coming up with elaborate lies and exaggerations about Cybertronian anatomy purely for her own entertainment. After all, if none of these humans have the ball-bearings to ask her for proof of her little claims and spiels, that's on them!

[mychlapci]

Im here to beg for some synth-en megaratch because i dont havr any meaning in life besides stalking your blog <3

hgrhhh you are leaving me an open stage, i don’t know where to start… okay. The synth-en not only increasing both bloodlust and arousal, but mixing them together, which means that when Ratchet gets to Megatron he is, number one, filled with unbridled fury, number two, extremely horny after all the vehicons he knocked down on his way, and number three… Megatron can tell.

But you know, not a lot of people have the balls to just dominate Megatron himself like he’s just some piece of metal found on the street. So obviously, while Megatron is stronger than Ratchet, he lets him pin him down anyways, curious to see what the medic, seemingly unaware of the charge basically dancing across his plating, will do now. Spoiler: he doesn’t kill him. He fucks him. What a surprise.

mhmmm Megatron is so big that his valve doesn’t need to be prepared, all Ratchet has to do is shove his spike in and start pounding into him with more strength than he really should have in him, at any point. Megatron gasping in surprise, inner nodes assaulted carelessly, with no concern for whether he might try and point his fusion cannon at Ratchet’s head, or beat the shit out of him if Ratchet does something wrong, no, the autobot didn’t care about any consequences at the moment and Megatron enjoyed it tremendously. Maybe Ratchet degrades Megatron a little. Or a lot. Calls him all the things he’d normally call him, a monster, a maniac, an evil bastard, but this time he whispers it through grit denta as he nears his overload, each squeeze and punch and scratch delivered to Megatron’s plating that leaves a visible mark making him so much hornier.

hghhhh Ratchet’s transfluid being filtered out synthetic energon which means that everytime he overloads into Megatron, he gets him a little bit more high off the synth-en as well. By the time they’re found, Megatron is twitching and moaning through his Nth overload in the past half hour and Ratchet is still digging into him without breaking a beat in his pace, except to cum, but he recovers quickly and keeps going. I think Ratchet’s the one to tell Optimus to get the fuck out of here, this is between him and Megatron now. 

[yeehaw-in-magic-space]

Session 2 Recap: Part 2/3

Chuck joined Prometheus in the next car. Geraldine and Dolly made their way out, but ran out of movement just before making it to safety, which left them trapped with the three ghouls that were near enough to dash into melee distance with them. In a moment of quick thinking, Dolly dumped an entire bag of ball bearings onto the ground just before making her escape, coating the floor except for a thin path Geraldine could use to slip away. The ghouls swung on Dolly, but between her quick movement and their unstable ground they were unable to land any attacks. Geraldine fired another explosive round, knocking one ghoul out of range of her and slipping into the dining car with the rest of the party. 

The party had only seconds to recover as Mac slammed the door shut. The space between cars began to flood with ghouls, and the few that weren’t busy tripping on ball bearings managed to claw into the door and attempt to pry it open. Mac resisted, which led to 3 roll offs as they matched the same result on an athletic check twice (once being a crit on both sides). The ghouls clawed furiously at the door, and Mac practically burnt out his circuts resisting them. Eventually, he managed to force the door closed hard enough that only a few clawed fingers made it inside the car, though he had to continue to hold on tight to keep it that way. 

As everyone took a moment to recover from terror and wounds (except for Geraldine, who was quietly elated), Prometheus caught the party up on what he had discovered. Everyone searched for an additional emergency lever, which Dolly spotted behind a shelf of alcohol. She squeezed herself behind the shelf and activated the lever, which revealed the second step in the convoluted evacuation process. A computer sparked to life on the wall, which Chuck wasted no time cracking into and ordering to make an emergency launch. Two valves began to glow at the back of a car (labeled “wing deployment”), and a steering mechanism emerged from the ground beneath the bar. 

As the party realized what they needed to do, two ghouls burst into the car through the windows (which were quickly covered by emergency blast doors). Though the door was secured, the ghouls that were somehow managing to crawl along the outside of the interstellar train were preparing to breach. One cornered Dolly, and one intercepted Chuck as he sprinted towards the steering mechanism. Dolly struck down the ghoul in front of her, and ran forward to help prepare the car to detach. Prometheus sprinted forward in this moment, letting his glasses fall away as he whispered incomprehensible things at the ghoul attacking Chuck. Dolly, perceptive as she is, noticed immediately how strange her current company was: Prometheus with his deep red sclera, lack of iris, and barely visible black pupil. Chuck bleeding orange and holding a sword in the third arm he apparently possessed. Geraldine beamed with contentment as she and Chuck’s floating disk sprinted forward to deploy the wings. They were odd company, and she had many questions, but they could wait. For now, she was grateful that they could get her out alive.

The party managed to strike down the last of the ghouls in combat range and flee before any more could breach. The dining car had been fully converted into an independent cargo ship, and Chuck piloted them away from the crumbling train. They got one last glimpse of ghouls, ghosts, and the thing that had been tearing apart the train cars from underneath them: a massive, ethereal maw with fangs as large as ribs and a tongue made of ghostly arms. Finally, they had an actual moment to sit and process what was happening as they made haste towards the nearest habitable planet. 

[udhhyog2]

Ball Valves: Types, Sizes, and Applications

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What is a Ball Valve?

A ball valve is a valve that controls fluid flow through a pipeline using a spherical ball with a hole through its center. The ball is mounted on a shaft and rotates to open or close the flow. When the valve is open, the hole in the ball aligns with the pipe, allowing fluid to pass. When closed, the ball rotates to block the flow completely. Ball valves are celebrated for their simple design, reliable performance, and versatility.

Types of Ball Valves

1. Standard Ball Valves: These are the most common type, suitable for general applications. They come in various sizes, including 1/2 inch, 3/4 inch, and 4 inch ball valves, providing flexibility for different systems.

2. 3-Way Ball Valves: Designed for more complex flow control, 3-way ball valves allow you to direct flow between three different paths. They are ideal for systems that require flow diversion or mixing.

3. Electric Ball Valves: These valves are equipped with electric actuators, enabling automated operation. They are perfect for applications requiring remote or programmable control.

4. Apollo Ball Valves: Known for their high quality and reliability, Apollo ball valves are designed for demanding applications. They offer robust performance and durability in various industrial settings.

Available Sizes and Products

1. 1/2 Inch Ball Valve: Suitable for small pipelines and applications where precise control is needed. Check out our 1/2 Inch Ball Valve for detailed specifications.

2. 3/4 Inch Ball Valve: Ideal for medium-sized pipes, offering a balance between performance and space. Explore our 3/4 Inch Ball Valve for more information.

3. 4 Inch Ball Valve: Perfect for larger systems requiring higher flow capacities. Visit our Valves Category for options.

4. 3-Way Ball Valve: Designed to manage flow between three paths, ideal for complex systems. Learn more about our 3-way ball valve options here.

5. Electric Ball Valve: For automated control, our electric ball valves offer convenience and precision. Check out our range of electric ball valves at Udhhyog.

6. Apollo Ball Valves: High-quality Apollo ball valves are available for rigorous applications. Discover Apollo options in our Valves Category.

Choosing the Right Ball Valve

Consider the following factors when selecting a ball valve:

Pipeline Size: Match the valve size to your pipeline dimensions. Available sizes include 1/2 inch, 3/4 inch, and 4 inch ball valves.

Application Requirements: Determine if you need a standard valve, a 3-way valve, or an electric valve based on your system’s needs.

Material and Construction: Select a valve made from materials compatible with your fluids and environmental conditions.

[hydrofittings]

Hydraulic Manifold valve manufacturer in india by hydrofittings

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[hellsitesonlybookclub]

20k Leagues under the sea, Jules Verne

CHAPTER XV

A WALK ON THE BOTTOM OF THE SEA

This cell was, to speak correctly, the arsenal and wardrobe of the Nautilus. A dozen diving apparatuses hung from the partition, waiting our use.

Ned Land, on seeing them, showed evident repugnance to dress himself in one.

“But, my worthy Ned, the forests of the Island of Crespo are nothing but submarine forests.”

“Good!” said the disappointed harpooner, who saw his dreams of fresh meat fade away. “And you, M. Aronnax, are you going to dress yourself in those clothes?”

“There is no alternative, Master Ned.”

“As you please, sir,” replied the harpooner, shrugging his shoulders; “but as for me, unless I am forced, I will never get into one.”

“No one will force you, Master Ned,” said Captain Nemo.

“Is Conseil going to risk it?” asked Ned.

“I follow my master wherever he goes,” replied Conseil.

At the Captain’s call two of the ship’s crew came to help us to dress in these heavy and impervious clothes, made of india-rubber without seam, and constructed expressly to resist considerable pressure. One would have thought it a suit of armour, both supple and resisting. This suit formed trousers and waistcoat. The trousers were finished off with thick boots, weighted with heavy leaden soles. The texture of the waistcoat was held together by bands of copper, which crossed the chest, protecting it from the great pressure of the water, and leaving the lungs free to act; the sleeves ended in gloves, which in no way restrained the movement of the hands. There was a vast difference noticeable between these consummate apparatuses and the old cork breastplates, jackets, and other contrivances in vogue during the eighteenth century.

Captain Nemo and one of his companions (a sort of Hercules, who must have possessed great strength), Conseil, and myself, were soon enveloped in the dresses. There remained nothing more to be done but to enclose our heads in the metal box. But before proceeding to this operation, I asked the Captain’s permission to examine the guns we were to carry.

One of the Nautilus men gave me a simple gun, the butt end of which, made of steel, hollow in the centre, was rather large. It served as a reservoir for compressed air, which a valve, worked by a spring, allowed to escape into a metal tube. A box of projectiles, in a groove in the thickness of the butt end, contained about twenty of these electric balls, which, by means of a spring, were forced into the barrel of the gun. As soon as one shot was fired, another was ready.

“Captain Nemo,” said I, “this arm is perfect, and easily handled: I only ask to be allowed to try it. But how shall we gain the bottom of the sea?”

“At this moment, Professor, the Nautilus is stranded in five fathoms, and we have nothing to do but to start.”

“But how shall we get off?”

“You shall see.”

Captain Nemo thrust his head into the helmet, Conseil and I did the same, not without hearing an ironical “Good sport!” from the Canadian. The upper part of our dress terminated in a copper collar upon which was screwed the metal helmet. Three holes, protected by thick glass, allowed us to see in all directions, by simply turning our head in the interior of the head-dress. As soon as it was in position, the Rouquayrol apparatus on our backs began to act; and, for my part, I could breathe with ease.

With the Ruhmkorff lamp hanging from my belt, and the gun in my hand, I was ready to set out. But to speak the truth, imprisoned in these heavy garments, and glued to the deck by my leaden soles, it was impossible for me to take a step.

I was ready to set out

But this state of things was provided for. I felt myself being pushed into a little room contiguous to the wardrobe-room. My companions followed, towed along in the same way. I heard a water-tight door, furnished with stopper-plates, close upon us, and we were wrapped in profound darkness.

After some minutes, a loud hissing was heard. I felt the cold mount from my feet to my chest. Evidently from some part of the vessel they had, by means of a tap, given entrance to the water, which was invading us, and with which the room was soon filled. A second door cut in the side of the Nautilus then opened. We saw a faint light. In another instant our feet trod the bottom of the sea.

And now, how can I retrace the impression left upon me by that walk under the waters? Words are impotent to relate such wonders! Captain Nemo walked in front, his companion followed some steps behind. Conseil and I remained near each other, as if an exchange of words had been possible through our metallic cases. I no longer felt the weight of my clothing, or of my shoes, of my reservoir of air, or my thick helmet, in the midst of which my head rattled like an almond in its shell.

The light, which lit the soil thirty feet below the surface of the ocean, astonished me by its power. The solar rays shone through the watery mass easily, and dissipated all colour, and I clearly distinguished objects at a distance of a hundred and fifty yards. Beyond that the tints darkened into fine gradations of ultramarine, and faded into vague obscurity. Truly this water which surrounded me was but another air denser than the terrestrial atmosphere, but almost as transparent. Above me was the calm surface of the sea.

We were walking on fine, even sand, not wrinkled, as on a flat shore, which retains the impression of the billows. This dazzling carpet, really a reflector, repelled the rays of the sun with wonderful intensity, which accounted for the vibration which penetrated every atom of liquid. Shall I be believed when I say that, at the depth of thirty feet, I could see as if I was in broad daylight?

For a quarter of an hour I trod on this sand, sown with the impalpable dust of shells. The hull of the Nautilus, resembling a long shoal, disappeared by degrees; but its lantern, when darkness should overtake us in the waters, would help to guide us on board by its distinct rays.

Soon forms of objects outlined in the distance were discernible. I recognised magnificent rocks, hung with a tapestry of zoophytes of the most beautiful kind, and I was at first struck by the peculiar effect of this medium.

It was then ten in the morning; the rays of the sun struck the surface of the waves at rather an oblique angle, and at the touch of their light, decomposed by refraction as through a prism, flowers, rocks, plants, shells, and polypi were shaded at the edges by the seven solar colours. It was marvellous, a feast for the eyes, this complication of coloured tints, a perfect kaleidoscope of green, yellow, orange, violet, indigo, and blue; in one word, the whole palette of an enthusiastic colourist! Why could I not communicate to Conseil the lively sensations which were mounting to my brain, and rival him in expressions of admiration? For aught I knew, Captain Nemo and his companion might be able to exchange thoughts by means of signs previously agreed upon. So, for want of better, I talked to myself; I declaimed in the copper box which covered my head, thereby expending more air in vain words than was perhaps expedient.

Various kinds of isis, clusters of pure tuft-coral, prickly fungi, and anemones formed a brilliant garden of flowers, enamelled with porphitæ, decked with their collarettes of blue tentacles, sea-stars studding the sandy bottom, together with asterophytons like fine lace embroidered by the hands of naïads, whose festoons were waved by the gentle undulations caused by our walk. It was a real grief to me to crush under my feet the brilliant specimens of molluscs which strewed the ground by thousands, of hammer-heads, donaciae (veritable bounding shells), of staircases, and red helmet-shells, angel-wings, and many others produced by this inexhaustible ocean. But we were bound to walk, so we went on, whilst above our heads waved shoals of physalides leaving their tentacles to float in their train, medusæ whose umbrellas of opal or rose-pink, escalloped with a band of blue, sheltered us from the rays of the sun and fiery pelagiæ, which, in the darkness, would have strewn our path with phosphorescent light.

All these wonders I saw in the space of a quarter of a mile, scarcely stopping, and following Captain Nemo, who beckoned me on by signs. Soon the nature of the soil changed; to the sandy plain succeeded an extent of slimy mud, which the Americans call “ooze,” composed of equal parts of silicious and calcareous shells. We then travelled over a plain of sea-weed of wild and luxuriant vegetation. This sward was of close texture, and soft to the feet, and rivalled the softest carpet woven by the hand of man. But whilst verdure was spread at our feet, it did not abandon our heads. A light network of marine plants, of that inexhaustible family of sea-weeds of which more than two thousand kinds are known, grew on the surface of the water. I saw long ribbons of fucus floating, some globular, others tuberous; laurenciæ and cladostephi of most delicate foliage, and some rhodomeniæ palmatæ, resembling the fan of a cactus. I noticed that the green plants kept nearer the top of the sea, whilst the red were at a greater depth, leaving to the black or brown hydrophytes the care of forming gardens and parterres in the remote beds of the ocean.

We had quitted the Nautilus about an hour and a half. It was near noon; I knew by the perpendicularity of the sun’s rays, which were no longer refracted. The magical colours disappeared by degrees, and the shades of emerald and sapphire were effaced. We walked with a regular step, which rang upon the ground with astonishing intensity; the slightest noise was transmitted with a quickness to which the ear is unaccustomed on the earth; indeed, water is a better conductor of sound than air, in the ratio of four to one. At this period the earth sloped downwards; the light took a uniform tint. We were at a depth of a hundred and five yards and twenty inches, undergoing a pressure of six atmospheres.

At this depth I could still see the rays of the sun, though feebly; to their intense brilliancy had succeeded a reddish twilight, the lowest state between day and night; but we could still see well enough; it was not necessary to resort to the Ruhmkorff apparatus as yet. At this moment Captain Nemo stopped; he waited till I joined him, and then pointed to an obscure mass, looming in the shadow, at a short distance.

“It is the forest of the Island of Crespo,” thought I;—and I was not mistaken.

[efffitting]

How Manifold Ball Valves Enhance Industrial Fluid Distribution?

Efficient fluid distribution is a critical aspect of industrial operations, ensuring seamless flow and pressure control in pipelines. One of the most effective solutions for managing multiple fluid pathways is the manifold ball valve system. These valves help regulate and distribute fluids efficiently, reducing the number of individual connections and improving overall system integrity. Industries such as oil and gas, chemical processing, and manufacturing rely on manifold ball valves in Canada to enhance their operational efficiency while minimizing potential leaks and pressure drops. Understanding how these valves function and their benefits can help industries optimize their fluid management systems.

Understanding Manifold Ball Valves:

Manifold ball valves are multi-port valves designed to control multiple fluid channels simultaneously. They are commonly used in complex industrial setups where efficient fluid distribution is necessary. These valves offer advantages such as:

Reduced Pipework – Minimize the number of separate valves and pipes.

Improved Control – Enable precise management of different fluid streams.

Leak Prevention – Reduce the risk of leaks by integrating multiple functions into one unit.

Space Efficiency – Ideal for industries with limited space for valve installations.

Applications of Manifold Ball Valves in Canada:

Various industries utilize manifold ball valves in Canada for their robust performance and efficiency:

1. Oil and Gas Industry:

In the oil and gas sector, these valves help regulate crude oil, natural gas, and other fluids through pipelines. Their ability to handle high-pressure environments makes them a reliable choice for offshore and onshore applications.

2. Chemical and Pharmaceutical Processing:

Industries dealing with hazardous chemicals benefit from manifold ball valves due to their precise flow control and leak-proof design, ensuring safety in handling aggressive fluids.

3. Water and Wastewater Management:

Municipalities and industrial facilities use these valves to control water distribution, filtration, and waste disposal processes efficiently.

Key Benefits of Using Manifold Ball Valves:

Enhanced Durability – Constructed from corrosion-resistant materials to withstand harsh environments.

Efficient Fluid Management – Allows multiple flow paths in a compact design.

Cost-Effective – Reduces maintenance costs by eliminating unnecessary piping and additional valve installations.

Easy Maintenance – Designed for quick access and replacement, minimizing downtime.

Choosing the Right Manifold Ball Valves in Canada:

When selecting manifold ball valves, industries should consider:

Material Quality – Stainless steel and brass are preferred for longevity.

Port Configuration – Choose between two-way, three-way, or multi-port options based on application needs.

Pressure and Temperature Ratings – Ensure compatibility with specific industrial requirements.

The use of manifold ball valves in Canada is revolutionizing industrial fluid distribution, making operations more efficient, safe, and cost-effective. Their ability to streamline fluid pathways and reduce leakage risks makes them an essential component in many industries. By investing in high-quality manifold ball valves, businesses can significantly enhance their pipeline efficiency and long-term operational reliability. Find out more right here!

[pasayinv]

Guide to choosing the right ball valve for your project

Parth Valves and Hoses LLP, a trusted provider of high-quality hygienic valves, FDA hoses, and dampers, understands the critical role fluid control plays in various industries. Selecting the right valve is essential for ensuring efficient, safe, and reliable operations. This comprehensive guide focuses on ball valves, providing in-depth insights into their functionality, types, applications, and key considerations for choosing the perfect valve for your specific project.

What is a Ball Valve?

A ball valve is a quarter-turn rotational valve that utilizes a hollow, spherical ball to control the flow of liquids or gases. The ball has a bore (a hole through its center) that allows or blocks flow depending on its position. When the bore is aligned with the flow direction, the valve is open, allowing unimpeded flow. A simple 90-degree rotation of the ball, typically using a lever or handle, positions the solid part of the ball to block the flow path, effectively closing the valve and creating a tight seal.

Ball Valves

Advantages of Ball Valves:

Ball valves offer several advantages that make them a popular choice in various industrial applications:

Quick and Easy Operation: The quarter-turn operation enables rapid opening and closing, making them ideal for emergency shut-off situations and processes requiring frequent on/off control.

Excellent Shut-Off Capability: When closed, ball valves provide a reliable and leak-tight seal, preventing leakage and ensuring efficient flow isolation.

Durability and Reliability: With relatively few moving parts, ball valves are known for their robust construction, minimal maintenance requirements, and long service life.

Versatility: Ball valves can handle a wide range of fluids and gases, including corrosive chemicals, making them suitable for diverse industrial applications.

Compact Design: Their compact design makes them suitable for installations with limited space.

Cost-Effectiveness: Compared to some other valve types like gate or globe valves, ball valves often offer a more cost-effective solution for many applications.

Types of Ball Valves:

Different types of ball valves are available to suit various applications:

One-Piece Ball Valves: These are the most economical type, typically used for low-pressure applications.

Two-Piece Ball Valves: Offer greater versatility and can be easily disassembled for cleaning or maintenance.

Three-Piece Ball Valves: Provide easy access to internal components for maintenance and repair, making them suitable for demanding applications.

Multi-Port Ball Valves: These valves have three or more ports, allowing for complex flow control and diversion.

Key Considerations When Choosing a Ball Valve:

Selecting the appropriate ball valve is crucial for optimal performance, safety, and longevity. Consider the following factors:

Material Compatibility: The valve body, ball, and seals must be chemically compatible with the media being handled. Common materials include:

Stainless Steel: Offers excellent corrosion resistance and is suitable for food processing, chemical, and pharmaceutical applications.

Brass: Cost-effective for water and other non-corrosive media.

PVC: Suitable for corrosive applications at lower temperatures and pressures.

Pressure and Temperature Ratings: The ball valve must be rated to handle the maximum operating pressure and temperature of the system.

Port Configuration: Choose the appropriate port configuration (2-way, 3-way, etc.) based on the specific flow control requirements of your system.

Valve Size: Proper sizing is crucial to ensure optimal flow rates and minimize pressure drop.

End Connections: Select end connections (threaded, flanged, welded) compatible with the piping system.

Actuation: Consider the actuation method based on control needs: manual, electric, or pneumatic.

Seat and Seal Materials: The seat and seal materials (e.g., PTFE, Viton) must be compatible with the media and operating temperature.

Parth Valves and Hoses LLP: Expertise in Fluid Control

While Parth Valves and Hoses LLP specializes in hygienic valves, FDA hoses, and dampers, our deep understanding of fluid control principles allows us to provide expert guidance on selecting the right ball valve for various applications. We can assist you in determining the appropriate material, size, and configuration for your specific needs.

Why Choose Parth Valves and Hoses LLP for Your Fluid Control Needs?

Expert Knowledge: Our team possesses extensive knowledge of fluid control systems and components.

Commitment to Quality: Our 12-month product guarantee on our hygienic products reflects our dedication to quality and reliability.

Customer-Centric Approach: We prioritize customer satisfaction and provide excellent support.

Conclusion:

Selecting the correct ball valve is a critical decision that impacts the efficiency and safety of your operations. By carefully considering the factors outlined in this guide and consulting with fluid control experts like those at Parth Valves and Hoses LLP, you can ensure you choose the ideal valve for your project. Contact us today to discuss your specific requirements and discover how we can contribute to your success.

[primeindustrialvalvesmfgco]

Comprehensive Guide to Industrial Valves: Applications and Benefits

Introduction to Industrial Valves

Industrial valves are pivotal components in fluid control systems, ensuring the smooth and efficient operation of various industries. As a leading manufacturer of industrial valves, we specialize in providing high-quality solutions tailored to diverse applications. Our product portfolio includes a wide array of valves designed to meet the demanding requirements of industries such as oil and gas, water treatment, chemical processing, HVAC systems, and more. Let’s explore the types of valves manufacture and their specific applications.

Gate Valves: Reliable Flow Control

Gate valves are designed for on-off control, ensuring minimal pressure loss and uninterrupted flow. As a trusted manufacturer of gate valves, we cater to industries like water and sewage systems, oil and gas, and industrial processes. These valves are highly efficient for isolating flow and are commonly used in pipelines where full flow or no flow conditions are required.

Globe Valves: Precision in Flow Regulation

Globe valves are ideal for regulating fluid flow and are widely used in water and wastewater systems, chemical processing, oil and gas, and power plants. Our range of globe valves is engineered to provide exceptional control and durability, making them a preferred choice for applications where precision is paramount.

Non-Return Valves: Preventing Backflow

Non-return valves, also known as check valves, are essential for preventing the reverse flow of fluids. We manufacture various types, including swing check valves, non-slam check valves, dual plate check valves, wafer check valves, and lift-type non-return valves. These valves find applications in water distribution systems, pumping stations, wastewater treatment plants, fire protection systems, and HVAC systems, ensuring operational efficiency and safety.

Strainers: Protecting Equipment

Strainers play a critical role in removing debris from pipelines, safeguarding downstream equipment. We offer basket/pot-type strainers and Y-type strainers, commonly used in water systems, HVAC systems, industrial processes, marine applications, and petrochemical industries. These strainers are designed for high efficiency and longevity, minimizing maintenance costs.

Ball Valves: Versatile and Durable

Ball valves are known for their durability and versatile applications. Our product line includes single-piece, two-piece, three-piece, and three-way (L-port and T-port) ball valves. These valves are utilized in residential plumbing, oil and gas, chemical processing, water and wastewater treatment, HVAC systems, and the food and beverage industry. Their reliable sealing and ease of operation make them indispensable across multiple sectors.

Butterfly Valves: Efficient Flow Regulation

Butterfly valves are lightweight, compact, and highly efficient for flow regulation. As a leading butterfly valves manufacturer, we cater to industries such as water and wastewater treatment, HVAC systems, industrial processes, and pipelines. These valves are engineered to provide optimal performance in demanding conditions.

Pressure Reducing Valves: Enhancing System Safety

Pressure-reducing valves are crucial for maintaining safe and consistent pressure levels. Our range is widely used in water systems, gas systems, steam systems, hydraulic systems, and industrial water systems. These valves ensure the safety and efficiency of processes, making them a vital component in various industries.

Sight Glass: Visual Flow Monitoring

Sight glasses are indispensable tools for monitoring fluid flow in pipelines. They are extensively used in chemical processing, water treatment, oil and gas, power generation, and the food and beverage industry. Our sight glasses are designed to withstand high pressure and temperature conditions, ensuring durability and reliability.

Knife Edge Gate Valves: Handling Tough Media

Knife edge gate valves are specially designed to handle slurry and viscous media. These valves are highly effective in water treatment plants, mining operations, pulp and paper industries, and chemical processing facilities. Their robust construction ensures efficient operation even in challenging environments.

Specialty Valves for Unique Applications

Angle Type/Spring-Loaded Safety Relief Valves: Designed for boilers, pressure vessels, pipelines, and HVAC systems, these valves provide safety by releasing excess pressure.

Moisture Separators: Essential for steam and compressed air systems, moisture separators improve process efficiency by removing moisture.

Flush Bottom Valves: Flush bottom valves facilitate efficient cleaning and maintenance in industrial processes, making them an essential tool in reactors and storage tanks.

Blow Down Valves: Specifically designed for removing impurities from boilers and pressure vessels, blow down valves ensure optimal performance and safety.

Precision Control with Needle and Piston Valves

Needle valves and piston valves offer precise control over fluid flow in critical applications. Needle valves are commonly used in laboratories, hydraulic systems, fuel systems, and aerospace industries, while piston valves are preferred in hydraulic and pneumatic systems, chemical processing, and water treatment. Our advanced manufacturing techniques ensure these valves meet the highest performance standards.

Steam Traps and Advanced Control Valves

Steam traps thermodynamic variants, are integral to heating systems, steam boilers, sterilizers, and autoclaves. We also manufacture 2-3 way motorized, cylinder, and pneumatic control valves, offering precision and automation for modern industrial needs. These valves enhance process efficiency while reducing energy consumption.

Advanced Check Valves for Reliable Performance

Swing Check Valves: Widely used in preventing backflow in water distribution and industrial processes.

Non-Slam Check Valves: Ideal for pumping stations and HVAC systems, ensuring quiet and reliable operation.

Dual Plate Check Valves: Designed for compact spaces, these valves are used in water treatment plants and power generation.

Wafer Check Valves: Lightweight and easy to install, these valves are suitable for chemical, pharmaceutical, and HVAC applications.

Lift Type Non-Return Valves: Commonly used in preventing backflow in high-pressure systems, ensuring system integrity.

Diverse Ball Valve Solutions

Single Piece Ball Valves: Suitable for residential plumbing and industrial processes.

Two Piece Ball Valves: Offering easy maintenance, these valves are ideal for water and wastewater treatment.

Three Piece Ball Valves: Used in demanding applications such as oil and gas and chemical processing.

Three Way Ball Valves: Providing multiple flow configurations, these valves are essential in complex fluid control systems.

Conclusion: Excellence in Valve Manufacturing

As a premier industrial valves manufacturer, we pride ourselves on delivering products that combine quality, innovation, and performance. Our comprehensive range of valves, from gate and globe valves to specialty solutions, is designed to meet the diverse needs of industries worldwide. By choosing our valves, you are investing in reliability, efficiency, and superior craftsmanship.

[hvacparts02]

Johnson Controls VG1841AD 3-Way Ball Valve 1.2Cv 1/2" | PartsHnC

Manufacturer Name: Johnson Controls Product Number: VG1841AD OEM Part Number: VG1841AD Product Description: 1/2" 3W Ball Valve 1.2Cv Weight:0.74lbs/335.66g

The Johnson Controls VG1841AD is a 3-way ball valve, which can be used to regulate flow of water in systems that involve hydronics and heating as well as cooling systems. There are three types of operating mechanisms in this miniature valve.

[pedlockvalveseos]

SS Ball Valve Manufacturer

To create a compelling blog post on stainless steel (SS) ball valve manufacturers for Pedlock Valve, here’s a suggested outline and key points you might want to include:

1. Introduction to Stainless Steel Ball Valves

Briefly describe what a ball valve is and its core function in controlling fluid flow.

Highlight why stainless steel is a preferred material due to its durability, corrosion resistance, and suitability for high-pressure and high-temperature environments.

2. Benefits of Stainless Steel Ball Valves

Explain the advantages of using SS ball valves, such as longevity, low maintenance, and resistance to harsh chemicals.

Mention the types of industries that benefit most from SS ball valves, like chemical processing, pharmaceuticals, oil & gas, food and beverage, and water treatment.

3. What Makes a Reliable SS Ball Valve Manufacturer?

Key qualities to look for in a manufacturer, including certifications, quality standards (such as ISO), and use of high-grade materials.

Discuss the importance of manufacturing expertise, production capabilities, and ability to meet custom specifications.

4. Why Choose Pedlock Valve?

Introduce Pedlock Valve as a trusted manufacturer in the field, emphasizing experience and product quality.

List Pedlock's offerings, such as various types of SS ball valves (two-way, three-way, high-pressure valves, etc.), customization options, and any unique features like anti-static properties or fire-safe designs.

5. Key Features of Pedlock Valve's SS Ball Valves

Highlight specific technical specifications (pressure ratings, temperature tolerance, end connections).

Mention any unique selling points, like advanced sealing technology, ease of maintenance, and quick response time for large orders.

6. Certifications and Quality Assurance

Outline any relevant certifications Pedlock holds (like ISO 9001), and why these are essential for ensuring product quality and safety compliance.

7. Applications Across Industries

Detail the versatility of SS ball valves and Pedlock's experience in providing tailored solutions for various industries.

8. Customer Testimonials and Case Studies (Optional)

If available, include feedback or success stories from clients to build credibility and trust.

9. Conclusion: Why Invest in Quality with Pedlock Valve?

Summarize the benefits of choosing a reliable manufacturer like Pedlock and invite readers to contact or explore more on the website.

Would you like help writing specific sections or need more detailed information on any part of this outline?

[news365timesindia]

[ad_1] Prasidh Krishna Bowling in the nets. Source: BCCI Before the landmark series victory in Australia in 2018-19, India’s travels Down Under were usually stories of misadventure. Most of the batters would struggle with the steepling bounce at venues like Perth, while there was never a pace pack potent enough to challenge the hosts. There were one-off highlights, like Kapil Dev’s 5-43 at the Melbourne Cricket Ground (MCG), while hobbling with a hamstring injury, and Ajit Agarkar’s bolt-from-the-blue 6-41 against Steve Waugh’s side in Adelaide (2003). But more often than not, India’s frontline pacers would make a mark before the inadequate back-up released the pressure valve. The nadir was probably reached in Perth in January 2012, when Vinay Kumar came on first change and proceeded to bowl floaters clocked in the low 120s. David Warner rampaged his way to 180 off 159 balls, a score greater than India managed in either innings. When the tables were turned seven years later, it was Jasprit Bumrah and Mohammed Shami that were the best bowlers on view, with Ishant Sharma often providing telling breakthroughs. It was a very different story four years ago, when no Indian bowler took more than Mohammed Siraj’s 13 wickets. Pat Cummins and Josh Hazlewood were the pick of the bowlers, but Australia’s insistence in not rotating their star trio meant that they were quite out of puff by the time Rishabh Pant unleashed his series-winning heroics at The Gabba. What India did do exceptionally in 2020-21, while battling a swathe of injuries, was covering for each other. Bumrah took 11 wickets in three Tests, Shardul Thakur starred with seven at the Gabba, while T Natarajan and Navdeep Saini also summoned up telling spells when asked. With R Ashwin and Ravindra Jadeja also bowling beautifully, India’s bowling patchwork quilt did what was needed. Shami was a notable absentee then as well, but how well-placed are India to replace him and form a penetrative trio for what will be an arduous five-Test slog? Despite his struggles on Indian pitches, Siraj surely shares the new ball with Bumrah, especially given how he bowled Down Under in his debut series. But, what next? Harshit Rana has the raw pace, but next to no experience. That he didn’t play either of the first two India A Tests suggests he has been taken only as back-up. Akash Deep is the next in a long line of Indian pacers whose methods are best suited to the subcontinent. In his limited opportunities so far, he has done little to suggest he could be a game-breaker with the older ball. Which brings us to Prasidh Krishna. One of the most celebrated spells by an Indian pacer in Australia – though it fetched only one wicket – was Ishant Sharma’s at the WACA in Perth in January 2008. He had Ricky Ponting fending, flailing and getting hit before finally putting him out of his misery. The beanpole-like Ishant was able to hit just the perfect length, not too full for Ponting to unfurl his drives, and not too short for him to play those crunching pulls. Also Read: Why flamboyant India will miss the guts of Vihari in Australia Prasidh Krishna (Source: BCCI) Prasidh, on his good days, is capable of hitting that bat-jarring length and at lively pace. That India A’s second Test against their Australian counterparts lasted three days was largely down to splendid batting from Dhruv Jurel and spirited bowling from Prasidh, Mukesh Kumar and Khaleel Ahmed. When Prasidh accounted for both Marcus Harris and Cameron Bancroft in the opening over of Australia A’s pursuit of 168, it certainly livened up proceedings. But it wasn’t just the wickets. He probed away diligently in a long spell, and it needed an innings of substance from Sam Konstas – touted as Australia’s next great batting hope – to see the side home. Prasidh played two Tests in South Africa a year ago, and was a huge letdown on a pace-friendly surface at Centurion. Even as South Africa’s quicks took 19 of the 20 wickets to fall, Prasidh and Shardul just leaked runs, providing neither wickets nor control.

Many an Indian cricketer has been dumped after such a false start, but Prasidh shouldn’t be. Given the lack of standout options at the moment – Mayank Yadav is again injured – it may not be a bad thing to take a punt on his height and ability to extract bounce. As India showed on their last tour, you don’t always need five-wicket hauls to win Tests. If Prasidh can hold down that third seamer’s slot, and chip in with useful runs as he did in the India A game, he could just be the answer to India’s problems.    For More Sports Related Content Click here The post Time to give Prasidh Krishna a second chance appeared first on Sports News Portal | Latest Sports Articles | Revsports. [ad_2] Source link

[news365times]

[ad_1] Prasidh Krishna Bowling in the nets. Source: BCCI Before the landmark series victory in Australia in 2018-19, India’s travels Down Under were usually stories of misadventure. Most of the batters would struggle with the steepling bounce at venues like Perth, while there was never a pace pack potent enough to challenge the hosts. There were one-off highlights, like Kapil Dev’s 5-43 at the Melbourne Cricket Ground (MCG), while hobbling with a hamstring injury, and Ajit Agarkar’s bolt-from-the-blue 6-41 against Steve Waugh’s side in Adelaide (2003). But more often than not, India’s frontline pacers would make a mark before the inadequate back-up released the pressure valve. The nadir was probably reached in Perth in January 2012, when Vinay Kumar came on first change and proceeded to bowl floaters clocked in the low 120s. David Warner rampaged his way to 180 off 159 balls, a score greater than India managed in either innings. When the tables were turned seven years later, it was Jasprit Bumrah and Mohammed Shami that were the best bowlers on view, with Ishant Sharma often providing telling breakthroughs. It was a very different story four years ago, when no Indian bowler took more than Mohammed Siraj’s 13 wickets. Pat Cummins and Josh Hazlewood were the pick of the bowlers, but Australia’s insistence in not rotating their star trio meant that they were quite out of puff by the time Rishabh Pant unleashed his series-winning heroics at The Gabba. What India did do exceptionally in 2020-21, while battling a swathe of injuries, was covering for each other. Bumrah took 11 wickets in three Tests, Shardul Thakur starred with seven at the Gabba, while T Natarajan and Navdeep Saini also summoned up telling spells when asked. With R Ashwin and Ravindra Jadeja also bowling beautifully, India’s bowling patchwork quilt did what was needed. Shami was a notable absentee then as well, but how well-placed are India to replace him and form a penetrative trio for what will be an arduous five-Test slog? Despite his struggles on Indian pitches, Siraj surely shares the new ball with Bumrah, especially given how he bowled Down Under in his debut series. But, what next? Harshit Rana has the raw pace, but next to no experience. That he didn’t play either of the first two India A Tests suggests he has been taken only as back-up. Akash Deep is the next in a long line of Indian pacers whose methods are best suited to the subcontinent. In his limited opportunities so far, he has done little to suggest he could be a game-breaker with the older ball. Which brings us to Prasidh Krishna. One of the most celebrated spells by an Indian pacer in Australia – though it fetched only one wicket – was Ishant Sharma’s at the WACA in Perth in January 2008. He had Ricky Ponting fending, flailing and getting hit before finally putting him out of his misery. The beanpole-like Ishant was able to hit just the perfect length, not too full for Ponting to unfurl his drives, and not too short for him to play those crunching pulls. Also Read: Why flamboyant India will miss the guts of Vihari in Australia Prasidh Krishna (Source: BCCI) Prasidh, on his good days, is capable of hitting that bat-jarring length and at lively pace. That India A’s second Test against their Australian counterparts lasted three days was largely down to splendid batting from Dhruv Jurel and spirited bowling from Prasidh, Mukesh Kumar and Khaleel Ahmed. When Prasidh accounted for both Marcus Harris and Cameron Bancroft in the opening over of Australia A’s pursuit of 168, it certainly livened up proceedings. But it wasn’t just the wickets. He probed away diligently in a long spell, and it needed an innings of substance from Sam Konstas – touted as Australia’s next great batting hope – to see the side home. Prasidh played two Tests in South Africa a year ago, and was a huge letdown on a pace-friendly surface at Centurion. Even as South Africa’s quicks took 19 of the 20 wickets to fall, Prasidh and Shardul just leaked runs, providing neither wickets nor control.

Many an Indian cricketer has been dumped after such a false start, but Prasidh shouldn’t be. Given the lack of standout options at the moment – Mayank Yadav is again injured – it may not be a bad thing to take a punt on his height and ability to extract bounce. As India showed on their last tour, you don’t always need five-wicket hauls to win Tests. If Prasidh can hold down that third seamer’s slot, and chip in with useful runs as he did in the India A game, he could just be the answer to India’s problems.    For More Sports Related Content Click here The post Time to give Prasidh Krishna a second chance appeared first on Sports News Portal | Latest Sports Articles | Revsports. [ad_2] Source link