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mv1simp · 9 months ago

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inspired by my fav @piastrification thank you for being in my walls 🫶🫶 hope you enjoy!!

Streets ♥️

Max Verstappen x PR Manager!Reader

we play our fantasies out in real life ways, and no final fantasy, can we end these games, though?

6 months ago, F1 champion Max Verstappen traded in his status as "serious cat dad with road rage issues" for "Genius. Playboy. Millionaire. Philanthropist". Since then you've been fighting absolute demons as his PR manager to keep his reputation clean in the media. After you tell him you've had enough, he proposes a very interactive solution to your problem.

Content includes: Humour, crackfic, fluff, so much sexual tension, 18+ MDNI, smut, playboy!max, exasperated manager! reader, a very well rounded fic for once?! 4.7k WC

If someone asked you where it’d all gone downhill, you’d have to say it started because of that greedy paparrazi rat Henri - photographer at the MonacoDaily, otherwise known as every PR manager’s sleep paralysis demon. Because this particular paparazzo had a nasty knack for capturing celebrities just as they made the most atrocious decisions known to mankind. And he had an even nastier knack for threatening to sell said photos to the highest bidder. Truly, it was a dark day for any media team when they were forced to bargain with such a foul demon, who’d be able to go toe to toe with the likes of Satan himself.

So when your phone dinged at 5am on a peaceful Sunday morning, only to reveal the 7th (7th!!) message this month from the very same greedy little rat, you threw it across the room. Only to then remember you devastatingly had not been born into a Dubai oil family and you needed this job to pay Monaco rent. The text turns out to be a photo of your aggravating client - Max Verstappen, F1 champion driver, loving father to two cats, and more recently, certified manwhoreTM. He’s living upto your nickname for him, pictured in some nightclub with a half naked blonde sitting on his lap. Alright, alright, not as bad as you were expecting, you could even photoshop the girl’s hair colour to match his current girlfriend’s one maybe? Well, except the brunette woman glaring behind him is his current model girlfriend of the month. You hear a ding, another text from Henri - this time with just a 😈 and 💸👀. You throw the phone back against wall.

Three hours later you’ve cleaned up the PR nightmare and are banging on Max’s apartment door. He blearily lets you in, shirtless and still looking half drunk, but you don’t hesitate to yank him by his beltloops and drag him to the dining table (after quickly checking out that broad chest of his, though, cause goddamn. You’re just a girl.)

Ow, ow, what the hell, Max groans as he’s shoved into a chair. Please. As if you could do any real damage in your 5 foot frame to the 6 foot driver. Slamming your hands on the table for some dramatic flourish (you’re never beating the theatre kid allegations) you give the Dutchman a piece of your mind, demanding to know what his problem is, does he know how many people you’ve had to bribe this month to stop #SluttyMaxEra trending on twitter?? And yes, you know he broke up with Kelly 10 months ago but can’t he just process this healthily and go to therapy instead of having a hoe phase and hooking up with every third woman in Monaco?

Max looks insulted at this slight to his honor. He retaliates by accusing you of buying into the patriarchy and slut shaming him (-That’s not how that works but pop off king, is your deadpan response), and telling you he’s very much over Kelly, okay, it was an amicable breakup (-Sure, Verstappen, that’s why you’d only played Lana Del Ray for a whole month afterwards, huh?) and well, what’s the issue, he’s a hot and rich guy in Monaco, it’s not his fault women just want him? Would it not be #misogynistic of him to deny women the opportunity to explore their sexuality?! He smirks, pleased with his defence.

You groan, slumping down on a chair and burying your face in your hands, muffling your groan of wholesome cat dad Max comeback whennn. Max rolls his eyes at your theatrics, asking if you’d finally lost the plot.

You try cleaning up the PR messes you’ve been making, Max Emilian, you hiss furiously, remember Ibiza? Santorini? The goddamn yacht party over summer break when he got with the captain and her deputy?! (Even now, thinking of that leaking online gives you heartburn.)

Which yacht, Max says cockily, the one where he got with them one after another or at the same time?

Your jaw drops. You hadn’t even known about the threesome, so you suppose you should be grateful that wasn’t another mess to clean up. But a deeper, insecure part of you can’t help but wonder why the only woman Max doesn’t seem to want is you.

And sometimes you can’t help but wonder what it’d be like to be one of his girls, under his strong body for once instead of on the other side of his hotel wall, having to drown out the very satisfied female moans and headboard bangs with noise cancelling headphones. Like always, you push that thought down quickly.

You, good sir, are for the streets, you announce, standing up and deciding it was time to leave before your delulu, jealous thoughts decided to resurface. Seriously, you mutter under your breath, you didn’t care if his current side quest was to fuck 10 times a week, but could he at least stick to one person for a bit and not make more work for you-

Max’s hand slams the front door back closed as you started to open it. You freeze, turning back to look at him smirking down at you. You hadn’t expected him to follow you down the hallway and you gulp nervously for the safety of your job - you might have taken the roasting a bit too far.

Instead, you get a sly, Oh, so I can do whatever I want, wherever I want, just with one person?

At your awkward nod, because yes, that would significantly ease your workload, he continues, enjoying teasing his uptight, pretty manager - then were you gonna offer yourself up? After all, there’s no PR messes to find out about if it’s you, right?

You blink at Max, completely stunned by the 180 this conversation has taken. Your expression is so adorable that he couldn’t resist a you’re so cute when you’re acting all jealous, you could’ve just asked if you wanted him to fuck you, ya know?

That promptly reminds you you’re dealing with an an absolute manwhore. RIP celibacy era Max, you’ll always be famous.

Um, absolutely fucking not, keep your STDs to yourself, you hiss, flushing head to toe, and furious at the desire in you to give into the devilish proposal. He encourages you to think about it, still smirking, relaxing his grip so you can mercifully flee far away from his intense gaze. Jesus, when did he learn to rizz a girl up like that?!

You don’t take his proposal seriously at all, ignoring his cocky looks at you over meetings all week (also, he’d texted you his clean STD result to assure you he was a #SafeSexKing.) But that weekend, your refusal comes back to haunt you when you’re on a well deserved night out with your girlfriends and your PR manager senses start going off. You narrow your eyes as you spot Max in the dark corner of the nightclub, hands all over a mystery redhead. She’s not going to be a mystery much longer though - if you’d spotted them it was a matter of time before fan’s phones did and then you’d wake up to another goddamn text from your sleep paralysis demon, Henri.

You don’t even have to think about it twice. Saying goodbye to your friends, you’re at Max’s side at a very impressive speed given your 6 inch stilettos and tight sparkly minidress, and once again dragging him off by the beltloops and into an open bathroom.

He lets you yank him away, smirking when he sees you lock the door for good measure. Sweetheart, he greets. So good to see you. Finally realised you couldn’t resist me?

You practically climb him like a tree while telling him to shut the fuck up and pay attention at media training day next time, because what kind of PR crisis did he have unfolding out there? And just this once you’ll help him out, you say breathlessly in between deep kisses, but this isn’t a regular thing -

There’s not much more talking from you because he has you moaning up against the wall next, fingers buried inside your tight little pussy as he talks you through an orgasm, and then another when he splits you in half on his cock. (Once again, manwhore, who carries a condom in their jean pockets?!)

Unfortunately for your self control but very fortunately for your sex life, it is not in fact, a “one time thing”. Your trusty rose vibrator is glad for the break as you’d been taking your year long frustrations at your dry spell out on her. Especially when coming home after staying in hotels where you’d had to book out rooms neighbouring Max’s, so no one else overheard the raunchy vocals of different women every night.

Like Max said, with you, there were no more illicit PR messes to find out about in the middle of the night. You’d redirect him everytime he gave you bedroom eyes (At the pre race debrief. Post race debrief. Weekly team plan meeting. Over zoom calls? Seriously?) - gently taking his large hand and guiding him to a much more hidden, PR crisis-friendly area. To your surprise, Max actually sticks to his word and only hooks up with you - admittedly, multiple times a week (Not that you’re complaining. Turns out he was just as good in bed as he was on the track. Except this time he was definitely not finishing first...)

And for a while, everything is going well. There are no more weekly scandals scattered across trashy celeb magazines about Max. Your boss is gushing with praise, so impressed that you’ve finally managed to talk some sense into Redbull’s problem child (ah, if only she knew, but she never would, because the goddamn CIA couldn’t torture this info out of you) and best of all, you haven’t gotten a text from papparazzi rat Henri in weeks!

So of course, Max Verstappen decides that things are getting just a little bit too quiet for his liking, you had to earn your generous PR manager salary, that he paid for, right? His new, numerous tactics to stir the pot had included:

Going to clubs with no private bathrooms so you’d had to sit on his lap in the VIP lounge as he pulled your panties to the side to slide into you, barely hidden under your flimsy dress. You’d held back your moans and prayed the bass was too loud for anyone to hear

Sitting right next to you at every team dinner or business meeting so that he could sneak a large hand up your thigh and tease your pussy for fucking hours, often just as you were about to speak. And when you’re clenching the table so hard your fingers were white, he’s bending under the table to pick up a pen or something but instead left teasing licks and kisses on your aching core. You'd learnt very quickly not to wear a skirt.

Picking you up in his 2 seater Aston Martin instead of the much more appropriate discreet, spacious, 5 seater Audi he owned - so when he was too pent up after a bad practise session to wait till he got home, he'd get you to go down on him right there in the car, sometimes even as he drove, instead of parking in some hidden backstreet. It was so dirty, that he needed you so desperately that he didn't care about being caught by anyone peeking in through the half tinted windows. Because if they did look, they’d find his head thrown back in pleasure as he moans, his fingers tangled in your curls as he moved your drooling, pink lips up and down his wide cock-

Anyways, you get the picture. And he’d escalated this all the way to the paddock, which was insane because there were always multiple cameras trained on the current F1 champion. It’s the one place you two couldn’t sneak off without a very high risk of being caught, as evidenced by the one and only time he'd managed to get under your skin in the garage. He'd had you pinned up against the wall in some narrow side hallway as he whispered how fucking sexy you’d looked today, wearing his hoodie to cover up the hickies you hadn’t realized you’d woken up with and paired with some tiny denim shorts. Having the 6 foot champion huskily groan that he couldn’t focus on his free practise everytime you bent over to pet a passing dog, or when you innocently sucked on the Redbull flavoured lollipops and then the goddamn ice cream from the truck they’d brought in - was quite the power trip, you admit. So you guided his lips from your neck as he tries to add to the growing bruises on your neck and redirected him to your waiting lips instead, steamily making out as his large hands squeezed your thick ass like he’d been thinking about all day-

Max?!?

You instantly pull back from the driver and turned to see a flabbergasted looking GP - Max’s race engineer. His jaw is wide open as he looked at you two with round eyes. You’re fumbling to explain, trying and failing to push Max back - who looks rather annoyed at the intrusion and semi-glares at GP with narrow eyes. You hiss at the younger man to stop being rude and slip underneath his arms, going over to guiltily apologise to GP only to be met with You too?! How did he get you in his bed, you hated how much of a slut he was! Seriously, does he have a magical dick? Now you stare at GP in shock, unsure of how to respond to his question while Max starts laughing behind you. You make him join you as you promise to GP that he will never have to witness this again, because there will be no unprofessional behaviour of any sort on the paddock after "BootyShorts Gate" as you thereafter dub the incident. Regardless, GP still shoots you both wary glances and begins the habit of announcing his arrival and waiting 10 seconds before turning a corner in the garage, earning him many an odd look. Dramatic, really, was this where Max gets it from?

Max, of course, was very displeased with this new “professionalism” rule you'd set down - on the paddock was when he'd get the most tense, the most horny and desperate to have you underneath him, after all - and he made sure you knew it. You deliberately ignored his heated gaze on you as you interviewed him, or his lingering touches when he helped you hold your microphone up to his much taller frame, large hand wrapped around your small ones clutching the mic. Or his recent favourite, which involved standing next to you to help pick out the insta pics post-race (something he'd notoriously always hated to do) - except now, he conveniently happened to be shirtless, his toned abs and broad shoulders on display, running a hand through his sweaty tousled hair.

This last seduction tactic had sent you fleeing to Checo's garage to seek out the other Redbull driver's PR manager and beg on your knees for a client swap, surely, the sponsor benefits are legendary for whoever Max's PR manager is -

Nope. Nuh uh, no way, Checo is the breeziest driver ever to look after. The other manager pauses. Well, except for the occasional political military coup scandal in Mexico. But still, I'd take that any day over El Manwhore.

You wailed at whatever Gods had decided to curse you and took matters into your own hands, furiously plotting up social media campaign idea after idea that were exactly the kind of thing Max hated with a burning passion - hoping it would get him to back off on his tactics and wave a white flag. From viral TikTok challenges, to making him read all his cringe 2008 tweets, and even making him play fuck, marry, kill with the drivers of the grid. You'd admit, that last one had been rather funny to watch, making you chuckle as you scrolled through the comments, liking "Can't believe we got Max Verstappen saying he would fuck Lewis, kill Pierre and marry Charles before GTA 6" and "does Redbull admin know she posted this on main?!"

But despite your best efforts, it didn't seem to deter Max. If anything, he'd begrudgingly do the task and end up laughing excitedly at you - who was holding the camera - about some joke or the other and make your stupid heart flutter. You knew you definitely should not be catching feelings for your client - who'd made it very clear his interest in you was only physical. But no one needed to know that sometimes you’d log into your fake account to like the "Who got max giggling and kickin his feet and shii?" comments.

Meanwhile, Max had caught wind of your desperation for an escape attempt with Checo’s manager and had upped the ante. He slyly mentioning to Christian Horner than you were doing such a great job as his PR manager, could he pretty please have you promoted to his general manager for his non racing publicity too?

And that's how you found yourself at a Dior Sauvage photoshoot, despite your adamant protests to Horner. You were putting your Masters of Business Adminstration, first class honours, to fantastic use by babysitting a 26 year old child who liked fast cars that went vroom vroom. The only redeeming factor is that you can leave the unflattering Redbull shirt at home since this wasn't for F1 publicity and instead wear a nice outfit for once. Still, you thought it was odd that Max had so easily accepted this campaign, as he wasn't normally one to enjoy doing PR.

A few minutes later you've figured out exactly why your favourite manwhore had agreed to this campaign, because he's grinning at you while posed shirtless, toned abs and broad shoulders all on display as some pretty, busty model is draped over him. The photographer is making this even more painful for you by dragging out the shoot, making Max and the model reposition herself multiple times. You roll your eyes at the scene, because obviously they're two very attractive people who will look good together no matter what, did the photographer really need to be so extra? You stalk off at some point to make yourself a hot chocolate in the hopes it'll sooth the flames of jealousy that are threatening to consume you right now. Max approaches you when a break is called, running a teasing hand along your waist from the back and whispering you looked so fucking hot in this tight maxi dress, making you nervously look around to see if anyone noticed. Luckily, all the staff appeared busy and didn’t look in the dim corner you'd settled into to do paperwork. You hiss at him to keep your hands to yourself, Verstappen making him grin and inform you that's not what you’d said last night, in fact, you were practically begging for him to do the exact opposite-

You're glaring up at him, seriously contemplating if it’s worth breaking your contract clause to "act in the client's best interests" and mauling him with your laptop when the photographer comes up to you both with narrowed eyes. You guiltily step back, thinking he overhead Max's suggestive comments, but instead he just looks back and forth between you two contemplatively. Then, just as you were about to ask him what the issue was, he announces that you'd be replacing the model as the female for the shoot. No questions asked! he announces as you try to protest and snaps his fingers at the makeup and wardrobe artists to demand they sort you out (he gestures rather dramatically to your whole figure when he says this, making you scowl).

So that's how you find yourself dressed in a silky gold minidress with a sultry eye look, pressed up against Max's broad chest and trying not to focus on the intimate position you two are in. Max, however, has no such qualms about the position, using it to tease you further. You've been looking extra tense lately, sweetheart, he breathes, those devilish lips brushing past your ear. I know a great way to make you relax? You growl at him to shut the fuck up because oh my god, did he know how many cameras are pointed at you both right now? Besides, you mutter under your breath, it seemed like he was very interested in relaxing with that blonde model earlier.

Fighting to keep the smug look of his face, Max whispers back that there was No need to be jealous, schatje, you were the only one getting access to his magical dick. So caught up in the game you two are playing, you don't even register the photographer excitedly snapping up pictures, proclaiming that he knew it, the chemistry between these two is unbelievable!

Afterwards, as you're walking off the photoshoot, feeling all hot and bothered from Max's hands running across your exposed skin, shamelessly looking you up and down, the blonde Dutchman catches up to you. He teases you that you were going to get wrinkles at 25 if you didn't stop scowling all the time. I'm older than you, you scoff back, by a whole 6 months, in fact, so maybe you should actually listen to me for once instead of pissing me off? No problem, Max agrees, after all, he's always had a thing for MILFs. You can't help snort at his retort and then start laughing when he tries to maintain an innocent look. At least you were away from the cameras in case someone heard this, you mused.

Unfortunately, you both don't notice MonacoDaily's ratbag paparrazo, Henri, hiding in nearby shrubbery with his camera. It had been far too long without a Verstappen news scandal, he thought with a satisfied smirk as he clicked away.

And later than night, after you'd eaten the chicken stir fry he'd cooked and rewatched Cars 2 (a surpassingly more regular occurrence, these days, to unwind with him at the end of the day instead of immediately being mauled the second you stepped foot in his apartment) you made sure he followed your orders for once. Sitting him back, telling him just how bad he'd been today with all his teasing (-well, it worked, didn't it, sweetheart?) you showed him just how good you were at playing the game, too. And soon, he was breathlessly moaning underneath you as you rode him for the first time, gripping his cock like you were going to milk every last drop, teasing him with just enough pace to get him worked up but not enough to send him over the edge. And you only let him cum inside you when he begged you sweetly, making you go fuzzy at the sight of the infamous Redbull playboy being so desperate for you, and only you.

Afterwards, once you've shampooed each other's hair in the shower while gossiping about how catty that makeup artist had been, really, to imply that your pretty curls had been the problem and not her shitty styling? and Max has got you spooned against him, warm in an old hoodie of his, pressing a goodnight kiss to your forehead, you can't control the warmth blossoming in your chest any longer. And as a content sleep takes a hold of you, you can't help but wonder if Max's affections went beyond physical attraction, just like yours’ were now doing.

It turned out the opportunity to find out this answer would come the very next day, when the ding of your phone wakes you up in the early hours of the morning. It’s a very specific sound that you've set for a certain ratbag - and you get war flashbacks, hearing it now after so long. Scrambling off the bed, ignoring Max's muffled groans as you shove his heavy arm of you, you unlock your phone and gasp in horror as your suspicions are confirmed. Henri has arisen from the ashes and this time it's to deliver his sauciest scandal yet. Because a picture tells a 1000 words, sure, but he has the two of you on a goddamn video, flirting and giggling at each other as you exited the studio yesterday. There's no chance of you talking your way out of this one, as Max's large palm wanders to give your thick ass a firm squeeze as he guides you into his passenger seat. Goddamn, you knew you shouldn't have worn that tempting skims maxi dress - Max was an ass (and tits) man who couldn't be trusted to control himself in public. BTW already sold this 🥸 Henri texts. Just a courtesy FYI cuz I brought a boat with the bag from this one ✌️

You contemplate if it would be better to disappear off the face of the planet, or get plastic surgery to become unrecognisable as you chug your morning Redbull while moodily looking over the Monaco sunrise. Max joins you after a few minutes, looking extremely cute as he rubs the sleep out of his baby blue eyes and asks you what's wrong, schatje.

Taking a deep sigh (like you said, #DramaKid), you break the news. I’m going to hold your hand while I say this (- that’s really not necessary, Max interrupts) - but you know celibacy exists, right? As does having sex in a private location without the risk of being arrested for public indecency?

True, Max agrees, but what was the fun in that? Besides, you were just too hot to resist. Ignoring the butterflies at his cheesy flirting, you hold up the incriminating video on your phone as proof that it was not all fun and games, as Henri had already sold this to multiple news outlets this morning, you inform glumly. Max is strangely silent, looking intently at the video and even replaying it a few times, his eyes crinkling as a soft smile appears on his face when he hears the sound of you two laughing. Then - in a truly unbelievable redemption arc plotline from the Monaco playboy - he asks if it would be so terrible, to have this made public, to let the world know that you were together?

Well, I - you stumble over your words, - I dunno, I thought you liked that? Keeping it secret cause you just wanted a convenient hook up?

Max is silent again. Then, looking uncharacteristically nervous, he says that's not what he wants, not really, not anymore - not since he'd fallen in love with you, somewhere along the 3 months of the friends with benefits/PR manager and her problematic client situationship you’d had. And like at the very start, you don’t even need to think about it twice. This time when you shyly smile and kiss him, you make sure he can feel your love through it and know that you wanted more, too.

So you walk into work that morning, holding hands in open defiance, ready for the world to see. You’re rather confused when no one seems to be paying much attention, instead frantically trying to get the set up ready for the pre race testing. Maybe you two had not been as indiscreet as you thought and people already suspected? Or maybe you both had a penchant for drama and thought you were the main characters when you clearly were not?

You look at each other, shrug, and you give him a kiss on the cheek and tell him you’ll see him for lunch at the kebab shop on the corner, before he wanders off to the garage. Maybe Henri had a change of heart and decided not to exploit innocents for fame and money, you ponder hopefully. Maybe there truly was good in the world, after all.

And then you hear your name being called and turn to see your boss standing behind you menacingly, hands on hips. Care to explain why #MaxLovesMILFS is trending right now?

Somewhere along the Monaco waterfront, a paparazzi rat skulking in the bushes sneezes.

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A/N: again thank you so much to @piastrification for inspiring this piece!! So sorry for the delay and I hope you enjoy my attempt at branching out to other fics xx tysm to you all for the requests, I am working them into my upcoming fics!! 💖

#max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen #max verstappen smut #max verstappen x you #f1 smut #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #formula 1 #f1 x reader #crack fic #manager!reader #f1 fic

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aweina · 2 years ago

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౨ৎ. MANSPREAD ( 17﹢) ; mike schmidt

tags fem reader. established relationship. dry humping / heavy petting. begging. no reader orgasm ( boo ! ! ). cocky to submissive mikey + 1.8k words.

mike cannot seem to keep his legs closed. literally. sitting next to him was a total hassle. his legs covering every perimeter of leg space he could reach — leaving your knees buckled together and tucked in whatever corner you’re forced into.

you’ve mentioned his bad habit before, in which he mumbles an indolent “sorry” and then the next day, continues to do the same thing he’s half heartedly apologized for. at this point, you’re not sure he was doing it to press your buttons or his permanent restlessness has caught up with his memory.

then playful slaps on the knee became another idea. a quick sting to his skin kept his reactions stunned, buckling his knees together from your sharp touches. each slap garnered a short cry and a sudden flinch like some invisible string tied his legs together.

it worked, but only for a few days.

now mike catches your wrist halfway from making contact on his knees, gently tugging you down in the corner of the linen couch with a delighted chuckle. either that or he tosses you a knowing glance when you come by the couch, a raised brow and his hands protecting the caps of his knees — glancing his soft hazel eyes towards the tiny empty space beside him.

what a total ass.

all your solutions to stop his leg spreading habit seemed to do nothing for mike. instead, it made him even more repulsive — the spatial width between his legs could nearly reach the arms of the couch, leaving your poor body folded to regain any left over space. then his arms spread along the plush pillows — his rough hand would ever so often teasingly tug at your ears or play with the loose strands of your hair, pulling the ends while playfully twirling it in his finger.

in the corner of your eye, you swore there was a smug smile etched onto his face.

yeah, he’s totally doing this on purpose.

you thought a bit harder after that day. re-enacting different scenarios in your head without it resulting in some unneeded argument — nearly burning abby’s lunch in the process. but like a flash of light, it suddenly hit you. if mike was going to rob you of personal space, why can’t you do so to him?

“um … are you okay?” abby glances up at your blank eyes in concern, the chicken that was supposed to be golden brown violently sizzled from the bubbling oil, grimly layered under a blanket of black charcoal.

“o – oh, yes i’m fine abs.” you assured the smaller schmidt, transferring the hot pan away from the scorching stove — your inner victory delayed by your own clumsiness.

to salvage her burnt meal, you both shared a box of fresh delivered pizza for lunch.

but now it was that time.

it’s nighttime, mike was comfortably splayed on the couch, mindlessly flipping through channels. as it always was, his legs covered every crevice of the couch — body propped completely in between the plush cushions. the gray baggy sweatpants he changed into clung to his frame well — heavily ruffled on the parts you would love to get an eyeful of. his shirt was slightly damp from a warm shower, the gentle curl patterns in his brown hair glistened under the colorful glow of the television.

mike catches your lingering gaze, a pleased smile on his face.

“you’re not going to sit down?” he slurred a quip, patting down on the other end of the couch — seized by his thick thighs.

he refrains from teasing you for your blatant staring, but instead, for your multiple failed attempts to get him to stop his obnoxious leg spreading.

“oh yeah i will.” you mocked his sluggish tone, going to get yourself a cold drink before you make your way over to the couch.

blocking his view from the blaring screen, you purposely bent down in slow motion — distracting him from his vacuous browsing to simply put your drink down. mike quirks a brow at your little act, but still makes no effort to scoot over, barely moving a muscle.

then your body began to engulf his vision, fluorescent light spilling in the sides of your shadow. confusion knitted into his brows until suddenly, the air in his lungs were punched out from an added weight. the heavy crash of your body made mike rasp a curse, making him pathetically adjust himself after being nearly sunken in the folds of the aged couch — one hand clawing at the cushions for some stability.

“r – really? on my lap?” mike managed to breath out, holding your waist steadily with his free hand — your body felt so good flushed against his.

the innocent attempt to adjust himself ended up with him grinding on your ass, eliciting a low groan from his lips.

gosh, he’s too loud.

you hurriedly fish out the remote from his weak grasp, changing the channel to something that could hopefully muffle the pathetic noises that spill from mike’s mouth. abby’s room was still nearby the living room, the lights off and the door completely shut.

“well … you never give me room on the couch, so i think this is fair.” you explained leisurely, tossing the remote to the side as you grappled onto his spread knees, lifting off some weight to rub slow, shallow circles over his clothed cock.

mike fought back a needy whimper, biting his lip until fleshy pink turned paper white. the cooling sensation of his damp hair did nothing from how much his body was burning up. both his hands cling desperately onto the handles of your waist — kneading and lightly grazing his nails in your soft skin.

a throbbing warmth brushed against your clothed clit, mercilessly constricted by the confines of his sweatpants. you fought back a whine yourself, desperately tugging at the gray fabric with sealed lips. every steady brush of your soft flesh made mike see stars, the urge to lift his hips and grind harder into the curve of ass sat heavy in his lust hazed mind. yet his obedience seemed to glimmer brighter than his deviant instincts.

“ha ha- harder – ngh – please go harder.”

he sounded so sweet, so needy. you couldn’t deny him when the pool of his sticky precum oozes through the gray fabric — gossamer strings that weaved your dripping arousal with his own.

“s – stay still then.” you whispered, now fully pressing your weight against his hard cock — your back against his panting chest.

mike does what you ask, gluing his hips down to the cushions.

his heartbeat was racing against time, pumping all the hot blood that rushed down to his cock. his warm breath fanned the back of your neck, sending electric waves down your spine. his touches were sweaty, latching and kneading anything that pertained to softness. the open mouthed kisses he planted on your bare neck blossomed into purple hues, the drag of his teeth and muted whimpers coercing you to absolutely destroy him.

your hips rocked faster on his cock, the throbbing imprint tucked between the curve of your ass. his grip felt extra tight on your hips, reddish crescent marks decorating your flushed skin. mike throws his head back on the couch, his usual deep groans replaced with airy sighs. he closes his eyes, the same stars dancing in his eyelids — your heady scent making it harder for him not to hold you down himself and hump his cock against your pussy.

he’s so close, he can feel it.

“might cum – ah fuck.” mike warns with a high-pitched whine, the blasting audio from the television really doing him a favor.

you can tell too. his cock hasn’t stopped throbbing ever since he’s accidentally grind against you. his seeping precum never seemed to stop, only staining against the seat of the couch. he was like a horny teenager, so desperate to get off and trying so hard to compose himself. not like the asshole who was taking up all the space on the couch.

this was a great plan after all.

with one hard press against his cock, a spill of scorching heat nestled into your clothed pussy — eating through his soiled fabric and coating your covered folds. with no restraint whatsoever, mike’s deep groan vibrated the dimly lit living room, mindlessly bucking his hips lazily over your cunt like he could possibly pump some cum along your walls. the stars that whirled under his lids dispersed into a warm, satisfied feeling all over his usual restless body.

the very last minute, your hands flailed over his panting mouth — looking over to the direction of abby’s room. he seems to realize how loud he was, eyes widening as he hastily grabs onto the discarded remote, amplifying the volume to a considerate tone. not too loud to wake her up but definitely loud enough to cover the after effects of your intense heavy petting.

the light in her room remains untouched, her delicate footsteps nonexistent. she’s still asleep, thank goodness.

still both hazy from your lustful highs, mike drops the remote and snuggles into the crook of your neck — taking in your addicting scent while admiring the love marks he gave you. his cock softened under the soiled fabric, the sticky feeling making him furrow his brows. but then he realizes one thing, the sudden flinch of his body made you alarmed.

“i – i’m sorry. you didn’t get to cum.” mike sheepishly apologizes, fiddling with the waistband of your soiled shorts.

you shook your head with a relieved sigh, leaning back to gently kiss his stubble jawline — combing your fingers through his soft curls, dried on the top but the ends damp with sweat.

“i’m fine, baby, but you can make it up with one thing.” you mumbled in the base of his ear, a playful smile on your face.

in the corner of his eye, he can see the curl of your lips — the sight earning an eye roll.

“i already know what you’re going to say, but let’s hear it.” mike’s voice was baritone next to your flushed face, completely contrasting his previous whines and whimpers.

“give me all the space on the couch for now on.” you laugh when mike groans, still pulling your body closer to his despite this new ordeal.

“okay fine.” he defeatedly mumbles into your shoulder, his rough hands tracing over your bruised hips to your neglected chest — reaching under to knead your soft skin for his own enjoyment.

the moments of comforting silence were therapeutic, not even the continuous dialogue and sound effects from the bulky screen could ruin its peace. there was something still ticking mike off, he didn’t want to ruin this sweet moment but he couldn’t help it.

“are you sure my lap isn’t good enough?” he pleaded, a glint of hope in his hazy eyes — the couch being his only source of possession where he could splay himself comfortably.

you scoffed, rolling your eyes in the back of your head.

“no.”

it was an attempt.

he huffs in defeat, now kneading at your chest for some comfort.

“okay.”

#.୨୧ ina writes #.purple mark #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt #fnaf movie x reader #mike schmidt smut #josh hutcherson

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reasonsforhope · 1 year ago

Text

"A 1-megawatt sand battery that can store up to 100 megawatt hours of thermal energy will be 10 times larger than a prototype already in use.

The new sand battery will eliminate the need for oil-based energy consumption for the entire town of town of Pornainen, Finland.

Sand gets charged with clean electricity and stored for use within a local grid.

Finland is doing sand batteries big. Polar Night Energy already showed off an early commercialized version of a sand battery in Kankaanpää in 2022, but a new sand battery 10 times that size is about to fully rid the town of Pornainen, Finland of its need for oil-based energy.

In cooperation with the local Finnish district heating company Loviisan Lämpö, Polar Night Energy will develop a 1-megawatt sand battery capable of storing up to 100 megawatt hours of thermal energy.

“With the sand battery,” Mikko Paajanen, CEO of Loviisan Lämpö, said in a statement, “we can significantly reduce energy produced by combustion and completely eliminate the use of oil.”

Polar Night Energy introduced the first commercial sand battery in 2022, with local energy utility Vatajankoski. “Its main purpose is to work as a high-power and high-capacity reservoir for excess wind and solar energy,” Markku Ylönen, Polar Nigh Energy’s co-founder and CTO, said in a statement at the time. “The energy is stored as heat, which can be used to heat homes, or to provide hot steam and high temperature process heat to industries that are often fossil-fuel dependent.” ...

Sand—a high-density, low-cost material that the construction industry discards [Note: 6/13/24: Turns out that's not true! See note at the bottom for more info.] —is a solid material that can heat to well above the boiling point of water and can store several times the amount of energy of a water tank. While sand doesn’t store electricity, it stores energy in the form of heat. To mine the heat, cool air blows through pipes, heating up as it passes through the unit. It can then be used to convert water into steam or heat water in an air-to-water heat exchanger. The heat can also be converted back to electricity, albeit with electricity losses, through the use of a turbine.

In Pornainen, Paajanen believes that—just by switching to a sand battery—the town can achieve a nearly 70 percent reduction in emissions from the district heating network and keep about 160 tons of carbon dioxide out of the atmosphere annually. In addition to eliminating the usage of oil, they expect to decrease woodchip combustion by about 60 percent.

The sand battery will arrive ready for use, about 42 feet tall and 49 feet wide. The new project’s thermal storage medium is largely comprised of soapstone, a byproduct of Tulikivi’s production of heat-retaining fireplaces. It should take about 13 months to get the new project online, but once it’s up and running, the Pornainen battery will provide thermal energy storage capacity capable of meeting almost one month of summer heat demand and one week of winter heat demand without recharging.

“We want to enable the growth of renewable energy,” Paajanen said. “The sand battery is designed to participate in all Fingrid’s reserve and balancing power markets. It helps to keep the electricity grid balanced as the share of wind and solar energy in the grid increases.”"

-via Popular Mechanics, March 13, 2024

Note: I've been keeping an eye on sand batteries for a while, and this is really exciting to see. We need alternatives to lithium batteries ASAP, due to the grave human rights abuses and environmental damage caused by lithium mining, and sand batteries look like a really good solution for grid-scale energy storage.

Note 6/13/24: Unfortunately, turns out there are substantial issues with sand batteries as well, due to sand scarcity. More details from a lovely asker here, sources on sand scarcity being a thing at the links: x, x, x, x, x

#sand #sand battery #lithium #lithium battery #batteries #technology news #renewable energy #clean energy #fossil fuels #renewables #finland #good news #hope #climate hope

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harshdakadam · 7 days ago

Text

Boost Performance and Protection with Advanced Vacuum Pressure Impregnation Plants by Omsai Enterprises

In industries where electrical insulation, moisture resistance, and long-term reliability are critical, impregnation technology plays a vital role. At Omsai Enterprises, in collaboration with AR Engineering, we offer cutting-edge Vacuum Pressure Impregnation Plants (VPI) designed to deliver superior impregnation solutions for a wide range of applications.

What is a Vacuum Pressure Impregnation Plant?

A Vacuum Pressure Impregnation Plant is a specialized system that uses vacuum and pressure cycles to impregnate electrical windings or porous materials with varnish or resin. This process ensures complete penetration into the smallest voids, significantly improving insulation resistance, heat dissipation, and lifespan of electrical components.

Our VPI systems are widely used in transformer manufacturing, motor rewinding, and other industrial coating solutions.

Advanced Processes in Our VPI Systems

💨 Degasification

Before impregnation, the system performs degasification to remove air and trapped gases from components. This is crucial for complete resin penetration and bubble-free insulation.

💧 Dehydration Process

Moisture can severely impact the effectiveness of varnish or resin. Our plants utilize a controlled dehydration process to eliminate residual moisture from the components before the impregnation phase begins.

🧼 Filtration and Purification

We incorporate in-line filtration and purification systems to maintain resin purity and remove any contaminants during processing, ensuring consistent and high-quality results.

Key Features of Our Vacuum Impregnation Equipment

High-efficiency vacuum and pressure chambers

Fully automated or semi-automatic control systems

Energy-efficient operation with minimal resin wastage

Custom sizes and capacities based on application

Integrated oil purification options for specialized needs

Applications Across Industries

Our Vacuum Impregnation Equipment and Industrial Impregnation Machines are used in:

Transformer and coil manufacturing

Motor winding insulation

Alternator and generator repair

Capacitor and choke coil production

General oil manufacturing and electrical insulation sectors

Why Choose Omsai Enterprises & AR Engineering?

🏭 Proven expertise in industrial engineering and impregnation systems

⚙ Precision-built industrial impregnation machines with long service life

🌍 Strong presence in India with on-site support and training

🔬 Continual innovation in impregnation technology and resin processing

🔄 Integrated systems with filtration and purification for quality assurance

Your Trusted Partner in Industrial Coating and Insulation Solutions

Whether you're looking to improve product reliability, extend equipment life, or meet industry standards in electrical insulation, our Vacuum Pressure Impregnation Plants are built to exceed expectations. With a strong track record of delivering durable and efficient impregnation solutions, Omsai Enterprises is your trusted partner in electrical and oil purification industries.

#degasification #dehydration process #filtration and purification #oil manufacturing #oil purification #Vacuum Pressure Impregnation Plant #Impregnation Systems #Industrial Impregnation Machines #Vacuum Impregnation Equipment #Omsai Enterprises #AR Engineering #Impregnation Solutions #Impregnation Technology #Industrial Coating Solutions"

0 notes

mr-ribbit · 11 months ago

Text

ladies, do you hate shaving? you wish you didn't have to go through all that work before every date night? want to wear shorts or a swimsuit or just exist in public without it being a whole ordeal of exhaustion, self harm, and emotional stress? do you put yourself through hell solely to keep up the illusion that you have zero body hair? great news, we have a solution!

"is it to surround yourself with people who don't care about body hair?"

no!!

"is it to improve my personal stigma against body hair by accepting its beauty on others?"

no!!!!!!!

"does it involve me getting to stop shaving at all?"

of course not!!!!!!!!!! ITS AN INSANE ALTERNATIVE SHAVING PRODUCT! ITS MORE EXPENSIVE THAN RAZORS, TAKES JUST AS LONG, AND AND ITS WEIRD! BUY OUR HANDHELD LASER POWERED PINK TAXED MAGIC LEG SHAVING THINGIE FOR A MILLION DOLLARS!! USE IT TO GET RID OF THAT UGLY LEG HAIR YOU HIRSUTE FREAK! YOURE NOT NATURAL YOURE NOT NORMAL IF YOU DONT LIKE SHAVING THEN YOU *NEED* TO USE THIS BRAND NEW THERAPY WAX TWEEZER BEAM RADIATION BLISTER WAND PROCESS!!!! YOU HAVE TO CHARGE IT! IT'LL GET RID OF THAT HORRIBLE HORRIBLE HAIR WITHOUT ALL THE CUMBERSOME STRUGGLES OF HAVING TO SHAVE - THATS RIGHT, THIS PRODUCT GIVES YOU BRAND NEW CUMBERSOME STRUGGLES TO ADD TO YOUR ALREADY JAM PACKED MORNING ROUTINE OF SHIT YOU HAVE TO DO TO YOUR STUPID WOMAN BODY BEFORE YOU LET ANYBODY OUT IN THE REAL WORLD SEE IT

NOW WITH ESSENTIAL OILS

#venty jokes aside #pls for the love of god if u do ANY kind of beauty or 'self care' treatment that you fucking hate to your core #PLEASE consider stopping for a little while and gauging how it improves your life #you can go back to doing it if you just prefer your appearance that way or feel safer or need to pass or any other reason but just.#FEEL what its like to not #see how much more time and energy you have for the things youre getting ready FOR #and then decide if its actually worth it #do YOU actually care about this part of your appearance enough to invest time and money into it?#or is it only because you think you have to #great news for real: you simply do not have to. whether people care or not.

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sunrisecaminus · 3 months ago

Note

It's currently 12:40 am, and sleep keeps escaping me.

I would like to ask for a few drabbles, please. One of how the autobots (whoever you choose) handles a situation where they observe the human reader suffering from a lack of sleep over the past week or so. The reader admits that they tried everything from melatonin, yoga, teas, and essential oils- almost everything to help them sleep. But they keep on having nightmares or anxiety about the team parishing. How will the bot(s) find a solution to their humans problem?

Message - Guys please try to get some better sleep. You poor gremlins need rest to process what fanfics you are reading! Hope you can get some better sleep, babes!

Ratchet/Ultra Magnus/Wheeljack x Human Sick Reader

Summary - Ratchet, Ultra Magnus, and Wheeljack have to take care of their human. All three totally don't think you are dying/sarcastic.

Warning - Mentions of Vomit

Ratchet

Oh you better not be sick! This doctor has been telling you for months to take vitamins and gave advice on washing your hands every time you come home from work. You have to explain to him that it had nothing to do with that and you caught a sickness that got to you even with all the cleaning. Ratchet would sound like it was such a bother to care for you, but if you want to know what he really thinks, he is having a heart attack every time you cough. You worry him too much, he is giving you medicine and soup every lunch until your body gets better. "You better live tomorrow! I better not see you dying so help me Primus!" If he could scold the sickness away, than you would have been treated in a few hours. After a few days of you being bed ridden, he would start to just sit next to where you rest and do his work while looking after you. Ratchet does not want to take any chance to take his optics off of you. He tries his best how to understand human illnesses…but lets be honest you organics are a bit confusing to him on how you all function. If you were quiet enough, you can hear him mumbling about how he never wants to lose you. Ratchet thinks of you as his only hope in the war, losing you would make him crash out. Having a sweet person in his life is all he needs to push himself out of bed, and will work harder to take care of you and force your body to feel better. When I mean work harder, I mean read every report from June Darby and do exactly what she tells him to do.

Ultra Magnus

Bro do NOT tell him that you are ill. He would go nuts, scolding you for getting yourself sick and not understanding that it was not your fault. Magnus would give you a bunch of citations, telling you what not to do while you are trying to rest in bed. If he sees you not paying attention, Magnus would just nudge you with his digit to see if you are ok and sit next to the bed. He is a worried mech when it comes to this kind of stuff, wanting to make sure you are ok. He would constantly ask June if everything he is doing is working or if he needs to change his routine a bit. After some time, he would try to watch tv with you. This would probably be the most amusing part of your healing journey, telling him what shows are fake and which ones are real. Put on a ghost show, I freaking dare you. "Why are they afraid of noises? They need a building inspector to make sure the house is well kept." Surprisingly he likes the little kid cartoons because he understands that the shows are trying to teach the kids lessons. If you start to cough violently, the alarms in his processor will go off and grab a bunch of things he was told to give you. Magnus would try to give you soup and a bunch of other foods to help, keeping up a good conversation with you. He may not be a good talker, but if you ask him to tell you a story about the war, he has plenty to help you go to sleep.

Wheeljack

WHO MADE YOU SICK?! Wheeljack will find the guy and "verbally" teach him a lesson. He is lucky that Magnus and Optimus are here, because Wheeljack would kill somebody for risky your health. On the outside, he seems like he didn't care you were laying in bed all day, but on the inside he is thinking you are dying. Don't vomit in front of him, it sounds impossible I know but if you do, Wheeljack will start yelling for June and not skip his scouting missions. Playing board games is a fun way for him to calm down about your physical health, sometimes letting you win. Music is another thing he likes to play with you, looking to see what is on the radio at the moment. You can ask him many questions on if Cybertronians get sick or do they have another type of illness? Wheeljack understands the cultural differences and similarities y'all have so he is actually really good at explaining things. He has recordings of his findings on different planets so he would love to show you all his videos. It's nice to be around him while sick, because he is not afraid to hold you in his servos if you want to go anywhere. He loves it when he can roll you into a burrito, it is his favorite thing to do with you. Want to go get ice cream or the drive-in movie theater? He will climb into his ship and go everywhere for you. Also, Wheeljack will actually go slow in his ship because he doesn't want to make you vomit anymore than you do now.

#maccadam #tfp #transformers #transformers prime #transformers x reader #transformers x y/n #transformers x human #valveplug #ratchet #ratchet x reader #ultra magnus #ultra magnus x reader #wheeljack #wheeljack x reader

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probablyasocialecologist · 1 year ago

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Plastic producers have known for more than 30 years that recycling is not an economically or technically feasible plastic waste management solution. That has not stopped them from promoting it, according to a new report. “The companies lied,” said Richard Wiles, president of fossil-fuel accountability advocacy group the Center for Climate Integrity (CCI), which published the report. “It’s time to hold them accountable for the damage they’ve caused.” Plastic, which is made from oil and gas, is notoriously difficult to recycle. Doing so requires meticulous sorting, since most of the thousands of chemically distinct varieties of plastic cannot be recycled together. That renders an already pricey process even more expensive. Another challenge: the material degrades each time it is reused, meaning it can generally only be reused once or twice. The industry has known for decades about these existential challenges, but obscured that information in its marketing campaigns, the report shows. The research draws on previous investigations as well as newly revealed internal documents illustrating the extent of this decades-long campaign. Industry insiders over the past several decades have variously referred to plastic recycling as “uneconomical”, said it “cannot be considered a permanent solid waste solution”, and said it “cannot go on indefinitely”, the revelations show. The authors say the evidence demonstrates that oil and petrochemical companies, as well as their trade associations, may have broken laws designed to protect the public from misleading marketing and pollution.

#waste #recycling #plastic #plastic pollution #fossil fuels

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stitchposts · 12 days ago

Note

Hi there! Your transdragon jacket is incredible! Do you have any back patch specific embroidery tips? Re: large sized work, and caring for it pre/during/after wear? Have a great night 💕

Hey there! Thanks so much.

Washing is important. Wash your garment before you work on it, and be prepared to wash it after. The after part will almost certainly be by hand - washing machines shred embroidery. Garment bags help, but it's not as foolproof as just hand washing. When I own a vest or jacket like this, I wash it by hand every few months. I make sure to wash it at the end of the wearing season too, so it's not put away dirty. The oils and crud can weaken fabric.

This is solid advice in general for clothing, but when it's something you worked hundreds of hours on, it especially matters, yknow? I will not lie, washing these is gross. But it needs to happen. Actually washing it: Get a mild detergent and let the garment soak in a large bucket or a bathtub. Do water + detergent solution changes until the water stops being disgusting, letting it soak for 20 minutes - an hour each time. For rough parts like the armpits and the collar you can agitate it by hand gently to get the crud released. Rinse thoroughly, then lay the garment flat between some towels and tamp down. Do not rub, just press straight down. Once it's just kinda damp and not totally sodden lay it over something to dry. I don't hang from a line because I find that the weight of it wet hanging from a couple stress points can fuck with it in a way I don't super like.

For the actual stitching process - take breaks and listen to your body. You feel any twinge? Take a fucking break. Find an ergonomic way to stitch, take stretch breaks often, physically use tools that help. Last week a friend asked me for advice on tools to seam rip fabric easier, and assumed I would know something. He was in fact correct and I sent him the tools to get. You'd be surprised at what exists to help us care for our bodies longterm.

#chatter #embroidery help

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dailyadventureprompts · 3 months ago

Text

Adventure: Over the River, Through the Woods

artsource

Caravans always need guards, and those travelling across the province of Drigvira these days seem heaped with trouble in addition to the usual olive oil and apricot wine. Security along the roads through the realm is usually the domain of the Kaelvalon Lancers, a group of veteran mounted soldiers under the auspices of the province’s Marquess, who are charged with dealing with beasts and bandits that might trouble travellers or outlying settlements. The current commander of the lancers is looking to squeeze the caravan heads for kickbacks, and is deliberately having her men slack in their duties, letting the roads become dangerous and leading the caravaneers to seek out their own solutions.

Adventure Hooks:

The party get involved when they're hired by Reed & Thatch Stembender, a pair of gnomish twins and daring merchants. They know the roads well, but with the rest of their usual caravan too afraid to risk the journey through the realm's more direct and dangerous routes, they've struck out on their own and are poised to make a killing.. if they're not killed themselves in the process. The party will need to help manage a couple wagons worth of product if they want to get their payout, but the twins will more than deliver on their promise and maybe make the party partners in their future endeavours if they're interested.

Joining up with the Stembenders is a perfect first adventure for a group of prospective mercenaries or fortune hunters; It introduces the setting, a couple helpful npcs, and hints at a looming threat in the form of the lancers. The fact that the wagoners' route just so happens to drop the party in a village that prominently features a dragon AND a dungeon doesn't hurt either.

While most of the lancers are content to sit on their asses and collect their wages, one particular squad has got a bit restless and decided to engage in a bit of extortion; strongarming groups of travellers and demanding coin to be "escorted" to their destination. If the party fight back and any of the lancers survive, they'll limp to the nearest settlement and claim the party are bandits. It'll likely be a surprise when the heroes discover wanted posters with their faces on it, as well as town guards making an effort to apprehend them.

#forest #highlands #random encounter road #road #dnd #d&d #press start #caravan #gnome #bandits #village #village encounter #outlaw

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macmay · 1 year ago

Text

OMAKHEATERS - PLATİN

Omak Heaters: Your Trusted Partner in Heating Solutions

When it comes to reliable and efficient heating solutions for various industrial applications, Omak Heaters stands out as a leading provider of top-quality products. Specializing in IBS tank heaters, barrel heaters, filter heaters, satellite dish heaters, and more, Omak Heaters offers innovative and dependable heating solutions to meet the diverse needs of its customers.

IBC Tank Heaters:

Omak Heaters offers a wide range of IBC tank heaters designed to provide consistent and uniform heating for industrial storage tanks. Whether you need to maintain the temperature of liquids or chemicals stored in tanks, our IBC tank heaters ensure optimal heating performance, enhancing operational efficiency and productivity.

Barrel Heaters:

For heating applications involving barrels and drums, Omak Heaters offers high-performance barrel heaters engineered to deliver efficient and uniform heat distribution. Our barrel heaters are designed to withstand harsh industrial environments and provide reliable heating solutions for various applications, including oil and chemical processing.

Filter Heaters:

Omak Heaters also specializes in filter heaters designed to prevent freezing and maintain optimal operating temperatures for filtration systems. Our filter heaters are built to deliver consistent and reliable heating performance, ensuring uninterrupted operation and prolonging the lifespan of filtration equipment.

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At Omak Heaters, quality and reliability are our top priorities. All our heaters are manufactured using premium-quality materials and advanced manufacturing techniques to ensure superior performance and durability. Our team of experienced engineers and technicians conducts rigorous quality control tests at every stage of production to guarantee the highest standards of quality and reliability.

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Omak Heaters is committed to providing exceptional customer service and support. We work closely with our customers to understand their unique heating requirements and offer customized solutions tailored to their specific needs. From product selection to installation and ongoing technical support, our dedicated team is here to assist you every step of the way.

Contact Omak Heaters Today:

Whether you're in need of IBS tank heaters, barrel heaters, filter heaters, or satellite dish heaters, Omak Heaters has the expertise and products to meet your heating needs. Contact us today to learn more about our comprehensive range of heating solutions and discover how we can help optimize your industrial heating processes.

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harshdakadam · 7 days ago

Text

Boost Performance and Protection with Advanced Vacuum Pressure Impregnation Plants by Omsai Enterprises

What is a Vacuum Pressure Impregnation Plant?

Our VPI systems are widely used in transformer manufacturing, motor rewinding, and other industrial coating solutions.

Advanced Processes in Our VPI Systems

💨 Degasification

Before impregnation, the system performs degasification to remove air and trapped gases from components. This is crucial for complete resin penetration and bubble-free insulation.

💧 Dehydration Process

🧼 Filtration and Purification

We incorporate in-line filtration and purification systems to maintain resin purity and remove any contaminants during processing, ensuring consistent and high-quality results.

Key Features of Our Vacuum Impregnation Equipment

High-efficiency vacuum and pressure chambers

Fully automated or semi-automatic control systems

Energy-efficient operation with minimal resin wastage

Custom sizes and capacities based on application

Integrated oil purification options for specialized needs

Applications Across Industries

Our Vacuum Impregnation Equipment and Industrial Impregnation Machines are used in:

Transformer and coil manufacturing

Motor winding insulation

Alternator and generator repair

Capacitor and choke coil production

General oil manufacturing and electrical insulation sectors

Why Choose Omsai Enterprises & AR Engineering?

🏭 Proven expertise in industrial engineering and impregnation systems

⚙ Precision-built industrial impregnation machines with long service life

🌍 Strong presence in India with on-site support and training

🔬 Continual innovation in impregnation technology and resin processing

🔄 Integrated systems with filtration and purification for quality assurance

Your Trusted Partner in Industrial Coating and Insulation Solutions

0 notes

blackynsupremacy · 5 months ago

Text

HAIR LOVE

pairings: nicholas a. chavez x black!fem!reader

cooper koch x black!fem!reader

summary: your man helps to ease the tension during the first few days of receiving box braids.

contains: short blurb, based on this request, short blurb, fluff, reader is not getting knotless braids in this (sorry), established platonic/romantic relationships with either nick or cooper it’s up to the reader, swearing, hurt/comfort, cooper and nick being green flags.

a/n: sorry for the wait! motivation has been low, but this brought me joy a little. this was too cute.

taglist: @greengoblinswifey @thabiddie23 @hopefully-saturn @jkr820 @hoffmansgirl @austeenbootler @niteskysx @sabrinasopposite @hnch33rios @xoxoglittergossip @supaprettyg @motherismotheringggg @oscarisaackissmykitty @simply-lovley44 @elitesanjisimp @gxuxhdjdu @venic-bxtch @stargirl-mayaa @miguelspvssy

imagine coming back home to nicholas or cooper after spending up to two and half hours in your stylist’s chair receiving the protective style you needed for your upcoming vacation together. there’s nothing like having a fresh set of braids in the color you desired that flowed effortlessly down your shoulders and back, but there was one issue that you had to deal with: you call it hell week. you knew it wasn’t a lie when they say beauty is pain. hell week is the first seven days after getting box braids where all you can feel is the tight tension within your scalp that literally hurts like hell if you move in the slightest bit. it’s hard to turn your head and it’s even more of a trial when you want to lay down. when with nicholas or cooper, you already gave them the run down on hell week, so once they heard that first groan of pain escape from your lips, they’d be ready to assist in the best way possible with the best solution possible.

a nightly oil massage.

when you first met, he saw you as royalty just simply by the way you carried yourself and what’s a royal without their crown? whether it’d be braids, silk presses, or your full natural, you took pride and care into your hair which is one of the many things he loved about you. of course being of a different culture, he’d ask questions that were genuinely out of curiosity and fascination.

“would you mind if i touch it?”

“how’d you get it styled like that?”

“how long does it take you to do it?”

“does it hurt?”

you’d answer all of his inquiries with accuracy and honesty, but what really got you going were the compliments.

“your hair smells so good. what do you use?”

“wow, you look—amazing!”

“is there anything that you can’t do?”

he also had to understand that with most processes, comes with the pain. you were grateful to him that he was so willing to help you after witnessing you struggle to face him due to the agonizing tension in your scalp. it pained him to see you in such a state. you both knew what you had to do to make this bearable.

“i wanna do it this time.” he said with the utmost sincerity.

“oh, no, love! you don’t have to. i got it, foreal.” you protest, but he insists.

“no, i want to. you deserve to have things done for you too, y’know.”

he’s seen you do this in prior occasions and each time the muscles of your arms and fingers would tense up after a while of massaging, causing you more pain. this act of service wasn’t a chore to him. he wanted to take a burden off your shoulders as you’ve done for him in the past. he wanted to do this because he cared. he cared for you. after you give in, you gather your warm towel, your braid oil, and your bonnet. you were then prompted by him to take a seat on his lap, so that he could proceed with your treatment.

he’d start by gently wrapping the towel around the majority of your scalp, careful not to move any part of your hair that may cause any further tension. his hands would apply the lightest pressure as the steam from the lukewarm towel would temporarily numb the skin. as you both wait for the towel to cool down, he’d ask about your appointment. you’d tell him that your stylist put on this wild movie that had such a star studded cast, but the plot was confusing as all get out and the ending still had you scratching your head, well you can scratch it after hell week is over. you both just reveled in each other’s company through laughter and your excitement of your upcoming adventure.

“you’re gonna look so beautiful with this hair on our trip next week—you always look beautiful, but it’s gonna hit different this time.”

you chuckle. “you always say it’s gonna hit different each time i get my hair done.”

“my point exactly!”

you also indulge in a bit of gossip. it was nostalgic like the setting of the hair salons you used to go to in your childhood.

“i’m telling you! she actually did that and now look what happened, but what do i know?” you’d comment after dishing out the word, feigning surrender as you lifted your hands.

“no fucking way!” he’d gasped, followed by a chuckle of disbelief.

once the towel had cooled down, he carefully uses the applicator of the hair oil to distribute it evenly along your aching scalp—not missing an inch. he gets the top, sides, back, and even the nape of your neck before pouring some on his palm and his fingers gingerly rub the oil into the skin with light, pressured circles.

“mmm—that feels good.” your eyes shut as you sigh in content, feeling a little tension dissipate from your head. he smiles, his heart warm at your satisfaction.

“i’m glad, sweetheart. i’m gonna move your head down a bit, so i can get this spot, ‘kay? let me know if anything hurts and i’ll stop.” with such a gentle coaxing voice, you couldn’t help, but to follow his lead as his digits continued their heavenly touch within your hair. this was nice. maybe he was onto something when he first offered. you didn’t have to worry about missing a spot, standing up for a while, and no pain in your limbs.

“how does that feel?” he inquired as the oil was being caressed in every single area of your head and your praises only kept him hyped up.

“mhm, that’s it.”

“a little to the left anddd—oh, yeah.”

“you’re the realest for this.”

“what do you want to eat tonight? because whatever it is—it’s definitely my treat.”

his cheeks flutter with a hue of red and he’d humbly receive your praises with a soft “thank you” and continued his work until he concluded with one last area. after closing the top and placing the oil down, he lets you know of the next step of putting your favorite satin braid bonnet back on.

“you hold the front while i get your hair in.” you do so and with gentle hands, he picks up some hair at a time to place the strands within the soft fabric until each one was comfortably tucked underneath. you sigh in relief, thanking him profusely and entrapping him in a hug in which he instantly wraps his arms around you, your scent giving him instant butterflies.

“anytime, sweetheart—y’know how much i love your hair.”

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