#Reciprocal Logistics Support

[moonchildstyles]

neglect

harrys in an unhappy marriage and didn't realize he was missing so much sunlight until y/n came in

cw: toxic relationship? idk harry's wife isn't nice:(

wordcount: 13.5k+

—————

"Bye, honey. Love you." 

Harry didn't realize he had his hopes up for a reciprocated response until nothing came. Minerva left though the door with nothing more than a wave tossed over her shoulder, eyes glued to her phone with a smile that wasn't for him on her lips. He didn't know the last time she said I love you back.

Heaving a sigh that lifted his shoulders before deflating into a slump, Harry locked the front door after his wife as the start of his day alone. 

It'd been two weeks since he lost his job in the third round of layoffs his office (ex-office?) was going through. It had been heartbreaking for Harry, having given almost a decade of his life—he was just months short of his ten year anniversary, actually—to this job; having given up on his dreams, and sacrificing time with his family all throughout those years. It all had been thrown away after one bad investor's meeting, leaving him with a measly severance package and a generic goodbye card left on his desk on his last day. As if that day couldn't get any lower, when Minerva finally came home and Harry sat her down to tell her the news, she barely looked up from the ping that lit up her phone screen. 

"That's what happens when you stay with a failing company, Harry. You should have been paying more attention." 

With that, she had left him to sit alone at the dining room table, his head in his hands as he tried not to let tears fall from his eyes. She always said he was too sensitive, crying would only serve to make her more annoyed with him.

Since then, he had all day long to shop around his resume online and through networking channels, only to field rejection emails by the end of the day. Minerva offered no support, only giving small hums or "I told you so" when she bothered to answer at all when he told her about his day over dinner. It broke his heart. 

While their marriage hadn't been anything close to perfect for a very long time (Harry didn't think it really ever had been, the more he thought about it), this was the worst it'd ever been. Minerva was always the harder one out of the two of them, which worked for a long time. It was all about balance, Harry remembered thinking back when they first moved in together after getting engaged. He was the soft one that cried watching romantic movies, and she was the one that would scoff at the logistics and talk about how unrealistic the stories were. She preferred horror with unhappy endings.

It worked, until it didn't.

Something changed after those first months of living together. Since then, Harry had been trying to play catch-up to get on the same page as her, but she seemed to be chapters ahead by the time he was even going in the right direction. His degree was never good enough, his dreams of being a songwriter or music producer were too silly to even entertain, and his family didn't support them enough. By the time he realized Minerva didn't even like him much anymore, let alone love him, he was left with a broken heart. 

But, even when he suggested counseling or even one of those couple's retreats that offered hands-on help, she shut him down immediately. That was all hippie shit he should have grown out of after they graduated college, she told him. It was her that brought up divorce, the word that had all but split Harry in half when it hung in the air between them, only for her to shut it down and tell him it wasn't an option as far as she was concerned—it would look bad for her to be a divorcee while she was still trying to climb the corporate ladder. Maybe after she made it to the executive level, she mused, if he still felt this way anyway. 

Harry did the only thing he felt he could: pretend everything was normal. If he wanted any chance of not losing his mind, sinking into a depression that he feared he would be unable to climb out of, he had to fall into the motions of loving her. He woke her up with breakfast ready before they'd leave for work—before he lost his job, of course—, telling her goodbye with a kiss to the cheek and hollow declaration of love that he still felt hurt by every time he didn't hear her say it back. When he made it home before her, he'd clean up the house, sorting through bills and mail, and get dinner ready, giving himself just enough time to slip back into his steeled character by the time she came through the front door and ignored him. 

But, Harry had always told himself it could be much worse—he was still lucky in some senses of the word, even if some nights he had to search hard for those moments—, and right he was about that. He was currently living through the worst it had ever been, moping around the house and feeling more down on himself than he knew was healthy for the fragile grip he had on his composure. 

As anxiety inducing as it all was (was finding a job always this hard or was he really as unimpressive as Minerva said he was?), the free time did allow him to work on projects he'd pushed to the side in favor of his nine-to-five. The attic had been successfully cleaned out and reorganized for the first time since moving in, the walls in the basement finally painted the eggshell blue Minerva picked out years ago, and the garage was spic-and-span. The last couple of days, he'd dedicated his time to maintaining the garden out front as well as the backyard, something he'd found himself enjoying more than any of the previous items on the honey-do list he was working through. His mom had always loved gardening, so he felt a lot closer to home when he plodded through the soil with fresh sprouts. 

After spending the first hour of the morning sending out his resume to a fleet of job postings and rifling through his email in hopes of getting anything back about a possible interview, he got changed for his day in the sun. He picked a white tank top with red stitching on the side declaring him as loved (though he didn't always feel that way) to adorn his torso with a pair of black shorts covering his thighs though his knee tattoos were left on display. Pulling his hair back with a tiny clip that left a sprout of hair fluffed on the top of his head, Harry slipped on a pair of large burgundy sunglasses before heading out the front door. 

Headphones plugged in his ears, he grabbed his supplies he'd left on the porch, fitting his hands into the pair of sturdy gloves he'd dug out when he cleaned the garage. Along the porch railing was the row of flowers he planned on shoveling into the soil, their planters barely containing the rich blooms rooted inside. The furling petals brought a smile to his face as he got to his knees near the plot of yard that had previously been nothing other than mulch and dandelions. Maybe having a garden out front might sweeten Minerva's sour mood if he did it just right. 

Tucking into the soil with the tools he had to reach out to his mom to verify were the right ones for the job, Harry started planting his rose garden. Green bushes with barely there blooms began to line the porch, making the tiny, white picket railing seem that might brighter against the rich hues of the buds. He was lost in his head, humming along to the music playing through his headphones as he built his garden, lavender and candy floss pinks joining his roses as the perfect growing companions. 

He didn't know how long he'd been out under the sun until he heard the faint sound of a car running behind him, the thrumming earning a glance over his shoulder. For a split second, he'd worried it was Minerva, home early. He had a feeling she wouldn't be happy to see him tending to the garden, tending to something they could have just hired someone to take care of if he'd been smarter about his career path. Instead, it was the car of the not-so-new neighbor that had moved in next door less than a year ago. 

A smile stretched across his face as he peered at her concentrated face through the tint of her window, a furrow to her brow as she navigated parking in the driveway. A breath of relief slumped her shoulders when she did so without incident; Harry understood, he'd seen her patching dings on her car too many times to count since she'd moved in. A clumsy driver, she was.

Harry plucked out his earbud as he sat back on his heels while she rifled through her car for a moment longer before stepping out onto the driveway. A bright smile covered her features as soon as she matched Harry's gaze, lifting his spirits higher than they'd been all day. A bubbly wave tinkled her fingers. 

"Hi, Harry!" she chattered out, hiking her bag up her shoulder as she lingered on the concrete. 

"Hi, (Y/N)," he reciprocated, his voice coming out a lot dreamier than he anticipated. 

"Your garden looks really nice," she beamed at him, toeing the ground with her teeth sinking into the plush of her bottom lip.

"Yeah?" Harry asked, knowing his entire face lit up at the praise, "'M not done yet, but 'm really liking how it's turning out." 

"I'm excited to see what it looks like when you have it all together, then," she offered, edging towards the open garage to head inside, "I'll see you around, Harry." 

"Bye," he told her, his voice carrying along with her as she went out of view. 

His gaze lingered in the spot he swore he saw a phantom of her form still. Even at the sound of the garage door closing signaling he was well and truly alone, Harry could still feel the effects of her presence, no matter how minute the interaction was. Plugging his headphone back in his ear, he went back to his work though he barely made note of anything he was doing. 

He liked (Y/N). Probably more than he should. 

She was just so sweet, enough so that her attention could make Harry blush. Even the first time they met, he remembered wishing he could have spent more time with her as she flitted about the neighborhood block party. She was a wonderful neighbor, always so considerate even though her roommate was very partial to a late night party now that they'd finally moved into an actual house after a spread of dodgy apartments through their college and some post-grad years (he'd overheard that during the block party). Minerva never seemed to like her much, though. She called her nosy, always talking to their neighbors, and attention-seeking with the way she supposedly paraded around the subdivision in her workout gear while taking her roommate's dog for a walk. 

Harry couldn't disagree more when his wife went off on her dislike for their neighbor, but it was something he had to keep to himself. Minerva would have his head if he defended (Y/N) the way he wanted to—with more than a shrug and "she's not like that, honey". Besides, he worried that if he truthfully spoke about how good he felt she was, that his little crush on her would turn into something more troublesome. He already had too many things going on inside his house, he didn't need to add the guilt of something more than a small crush on a nice girl worming it's way into his head. 

And, he cared for Minerva, still. Right? If he didn't, he would have insisted on getting a divorce and wouldn't worry so hard about what would make her happy with him. (Y/N) was a constant, happy presence in his life, even if their interactions were spread apart and only lasting some minutes here and there. Of course, he would get attached to the pretty girl who spared him attention and gave him praise without a second-thought. That didn't mean anything, though.

Even with the way his heart skipped a beat at the thought of his neighbor, Harry reminded himself of his reality. He was a married man, someone who cared for his wife and would continue to be a good husband to her until he signed his name on the dotted line. (Y/N) would always be nothing more than a nice friend. That's all.

—————

Harry sighed as he sank to his knees in his garden. Looking at all of his hardwork, he felt his heart break when he recalled Minerva's attitude the night before. 

She hated it. 

A waste of his time, she'd said. How was he supposed to find a respectable job when he was too busy with dirt up to his elbows doing a job fit for 'the help'? He had been floored when he heard her, but snapped his mouth shut as soon as she rolled her eyes and stomped upstairs, disregarding the dinner he had set out on the table. 

Looking at the bushel of lavender that still needed to be planted as well as the border that needed to be filled with his candy floss pinks, Harry didn't feel the same joy he had the day before. He probably could be a lot more useful browsing the job sites, checking in on his network connections again. If he tried hard enough, dedicated himself enough, he would get a response, right? 

His only saving grace was the music playing through his headphones, pushing him out of his head and into whatever the writer was urging him to feel with every beat and sprawled lyric. Music was everything to Harry. Way back when, he even had dreams of becoming a songwriter, or producing tracks and working in a studio—anything to put him in the industry. But that was years ago, before he was married and had to stop being so selfish with his dreams. Minerva wanted something better for him, so he had to let that go. 

Concentrating on the notes that filtered through his headphones, Harry was finally pushed out of his head and back into the moment. He would finish the garden, then go inside and job hunt some more, he decided. 

The sun was especially warm on his back today, soaking into the black fabric of his t-shirt (a bad choice in hindsight, he realized as soon as he checked the high temperature on his phone). Sweat dripped from his hairline as he dug into the soft soil lining his front porch, following the line of his nose before dropping into the dirt. If he was lucky, he would beat out a sunburn and leave with a tan coloring his skin, but the more he soaked in the heat, Harry didn't feel good about his chances. 

By the time only a half of the candy floss had been planted along the border, the neckline of his top was drenched in sweat and Harry was running out of the motivation to finish his project. It wasn't until he felt a soft hand nudge at his shoulder did he look up from the flowers he was plotting in the ground. That definitely wasn't Minerva, he knew that much before looking over his shoulder. She never touched him that gently anymore. 

Sitting back on his heels, pushing his sunglasses into the mass of hair on the top of his head, Harry turned onto only to see (Y/N) clad in her workout gear with her arms cradling snacks. 

He was quick to pull his earbud from his ear, looking to her with a shaky smile he hoped didn't embarrass him any more than the sweaty state she'd caught him in. "H-Hi, (Y/N)." 

"Hey," she greeted him with a bubbly smile, warmer than the heat clouding the air, "Looking really good, Harry." 

His mouth went dry as he processed her words. "Wh-What?" 

"Your garden," she clarified, nudging her chin in the direction behind him, "It's looking really good. Almost done?" 

"Oh, yeah. Thank you," he blinked, rolling his lips between his teeth as he granted himself a reprieve of following her line of sight to his blooms. She made him so nervous it was hard to look at her. "Only a little more to go, so I should be finishing up today." 

"You've been at it all morning, I'm surprised you haven't passed out with how hot it is," (Y/N) continued, huffing out a laugh through a soft smile, "I just came back from walking my roommate's dog and made some snacks and lemonade, so I thought I'd come over and share, if you wanted any?"

Dropping his gaze to her hands, he found a paper plate with a bagel covered in cream cheese, and a handful of dried cranberries. In the crook of her elbow, a small, chilled water bottle was cradled. 

A smile crooked his lips as he gazed at her. 

Cute. 

"Thank you, (Y/N)," he said, twisting in his spot so he could properly face her, "Y'didn't have to." 

"It's alright," she beamed, offering him the refreshments with an outstretched hand, "I was already making my own, so I thought I'd make some for you, too." 

It was simple, what she brought out for him, but even just a single sip of the sugary lemonade was enough to have Harry's heart bloating. He couldn't remember the last time someone thought about him so considerately. 

"No, this is really kind of you, (Y/N)," he cemented, looking up at her from where he sat in his yard, trying his best to keep his gaze from going too soft, "Please, let me know if there's anything I can do for you, ever. You've been so nice to me ever since y'moved in, I want to pay y'back somehow." 

"Harry, really, it's alri—" 

"Humor me? Please?" She was giving him undeserved kindness, and he didn't want to take advantage of her.

The way her features softened as she looked down at him, hair messy on the top of her head and face glowing with the dew of a fresh workout, had Harry's heart clawing at his chest. She was looking at him like that. How lucky was he? 

"Alright, I'll let you know, okay? I'm sure something will come up soon enough; I don't know if you've noticed with the amount of times I've accidentally backed into my garage door, but I'm not great about not breaking things. Be prepared with the amount of help I'll be needing now that you've offered, Harry." Faux seriousness covered her features as she pointed an accusing finger at him, thought her facade was cracking with the curl of her lips and the soft set of her eyes. 

"I'll be ready, promise," he beamed up at her, pleased with the way she bit back her smile like she was afraid of how big it would grow if she didn't.

She lingered for a moment longer, her tender gaze dropping for her feet before she matched his gaze again. "I should probably get back to the dog—he doesn't like to be alone for long—, but, I'll come by if I need anything, Harry." 

"O-okay," he breathed out, catching a flutter in his heart at the sound of his name wrapped in her voice, "I'll be here." 

Her grin widened at his small joke as she edged back towards her home. With a little wave, she was on her way, Harry watching her the entire time. 

When he saw her twist to look over her shoulder, he felt silly for a moment to have been caught staring, but then she spoke: "Tell Minerva I said hi, too, please! I haven't seen her in so long!" 

It was the genuine smile on her face that had his heart dropping to his stomach. He kept quiet as he gave a confirming nod, waiting for her to disappear back inside her home before he dropped his gaze. 

She was a sweet, sweet, sweet girl who wanted him to say hello to his wife for her—the same woman that would smear mud across (Y/N)'s name at any given chance. She saw the best in everyone, even people who didn't deserve that rose-tinted view. She was much too good for him, he knew that much. Much too good to have a married man become infatuated with the idea of her. 

—————

Clicking out of his email, Harry ran a heavy hand through his hair. 

Nothing. Not a single response to all of his cover letters, tailored resumes, and followups. 

He knew in the grand scheme of things that four weeks really wasn't that long to be unemployed, but sitting in this house all day long, waiting for his wife to come home with whatever jeering remarks she stewed over all day, felt like years of torture. There wasn't anything else to fix up in the house that could distract him for hours on end; the gardens in both the front and back were planted and well maintained now, the garage still tidy, attic still clean and clear, and he'd even fixed that leaky faucet in the guest bathroom Minerva had been complaining about since they moved in. What else was there to do but marinate in his own short-comings and make himself go mad until it was time to make dinner?

Slumping into the couch cushions, Harry tried to distract himself by flicking on the television, hoping to find something to take his mind off of the replay of last night's silent dinner with Minerva. Sometimes he couldn't figure out what hurt more: her silence or her deprecating words that broke him down? 

Just as he found a daytime soap he remembered his mother tuning into, a quiet knock rang at the front door. He didn't make a move to answer it, assuming it was some delivery service dropping off something Minerva had ordered or a door-to-door solicitor that would be smart to get out of this neighborhood before one of the more haughty neighbors reamed him for doing his job. But, when another round of the soft rapping came, he dared to peek his head through the gauzy curtains and glimpse at the visitor. 

It was (Y/N). 

From the limited view he had, he could see the way she was glancing back and forth from his front door and to her house, toeing anxiously at the ground with her phone clutched in her hand. Today was her day off, he remembered that (don't ask him how, he knew it wasn't something he needed to remember but he couldn't help his memory), only emphasized by the comfy shorts she had on her legs and the large t-shirt that was much too cold to be wearing so early in the morning without a sweater. 

It was that one peek at her that had him rising from his spot on the couch and rushing towards the front door. By the time he twisted the locks and pulled the door open, (Y/N) was reluctantly stepping off the porch with her phone pressed to her ear. As soon as she saw Harry in the threshold, she ended her call with a sigh of relief.

"Harry," she breathed, hands falling to her sides, "I was so worried you were at work, or something." 

"Is everything alright? Are y'okay?" He didn't even realize he was scanning over her form for injuries until he met her gaze from where it had drawn down to her feet. 

"Yeah, yeah," she nodded, toeing at the ground as she glanced towards her house, "I just... You said you would be willing to help me if I needed anything, right?" 

"Yes, of course," he affirmed, a furrow pinching at his brows. 

"So," she started, looking guilty already, "I was about to go take a shower, but I think I broke it." 

"Broke what?" 

"The shower." 

Harry blinked. "What do you mean?" 

"Its..." she started again, scrunching her nose as she tried to find the words, "I don't know, it's just not working and I don't know what happened." 

"Okay," Harry said slowly, passing a hand through his hair as he stepped onto the porch, shutting the door behind him, "I'll take a look and see if I can help." 

"Thank you so much, Harry," (Y/N) babbled, relief touching at her features, "My roommate is going to kill me if I break one more thing in the house." 

"Yeah?" he pressed, a lopsided smile tugging at his lips with a dimple pressing into his cheek, "Have y'been breaking a lot of stuff then?" 

(Y/N) rolled her eyes as she started across the lawn with Harry following after. "I don't think so, but Mitch swears that I broke the panini press, the wifi-thing, the ice maker, and I somehow, apparently, fucked up the coffee table, or something. I think he's just dramatic and doesn't pay attention when he's using things, but whatever."

A smile bloomed across his features as he listened to her list off every appliance and piece of furniture that could be in a house. Now, including a shower (whatever that exactly meant) on that list. 

Humming, he nodded his head, "Do y'think he breaks it and tries to blame it on you, or something?" Harry wouldn't like that. (Y/N) didn't deserve a roommate like that. 

"No," she waved off, pushing open the unlocked front door before letting Harry in ahead of her, "he's not like that. I just think some of the things we have are old, so of course they stop working or break, and he knows he didn't do it so he thinks it's me. But, I think it's just the universe." 

"I see," Harry smiled, stepping into her home. 

While it was a shared space, he could still spot the (Y/N)-esque touches littered throughout the living room; a soft knitted blanket in creamy tones thrown across the back of the deep green couch, a bookcase spotted with novels he'd heard her reference to her friends in the neighborhood along with little crystals and delicate trinkets, and photos framed on the wall with her beaming smile lighting up the setting. Everything looked worn and loved, handed down from relatives or second-hand shops—nothing at all like the stiff decor and furniture that Minerva had picked out from a catalogue exactly as it was. It looked like a home. 

"It's the upstairs bathroom, if you wanted to follow me," (Y/N) explained, stopping him from wandering out into the space to see what it would feel like to wrap himself in things that were (Y/N). 

"Right, the shower," he murmured under his breath, trailing behind her, "What exactly happened?" 

An exasperated shrug of (Y/N)'s shoulders was the view he was granted a couple of steps behind, "I don't know. I got all my stuff ready to take my shower, and I was waiting for the water to warm up and when I pulled the thing to make it come out of the shower head and not the faucet, it just... didn't work." 

She took him to the bathroom in question, opening the door to the brightly lit and femininely decorated bathroom (her own personal one, he'd assume) with the remnants of steam still touching the top of the mirror. 

"Watch this." She beckoned to him, settling on her knees on the tiled floor. Twisting the knob on the temperature control, water started streaming through the faucet and splashing across the tub. She paused for a moment as if to ensure Harry was properly watching before she reached across and pulled the pin at the top of the faucet, the same one that should redirect the water flow up to the shower head. The second it was pulled, there was a sputtering of water flowing for a moment longer before only a single bead fell from the shower head. The faucet stopped leaking, leaving the water to go down the drain before the shower was dry, none of the outlets dispensing. 

"Huh," Harry breathed, gaze drifting back and forth between the faucet and the shower head as if either one would explode at a moment's notice with all the water pent up. 

"Right?" 

"It just started acting weird today?" he asked, reaching into the bathtub and pulling on the pin again. The same result: silence and dryness. 

"Yeah, it was perfectly fine last night. And everything else like the sink, and the kitchen, and Mitch's bathroom are all working. It's just the shower." 

Harry tested it out for a few minutes, (Y/N)'s eyes following him as he tinkered with the knob controlling the pressure and temperature, the pin, and the shower head itself. Nothing changed as he poked and prodded, a furrow pinching his brow. 

"Do you know where your water heater is?" he asked, looking over his shoulder to her as he twisted the knob to off. 

Pausing when he saw the way she was sat so prettily behind him, Harry suddenly felt flush under her attention. He had felt the warmth of her gaze the whole time as he worked and messed around with the appliance, but it was different seeing her with wide eyes looking up at him with her legs tucked carefully under her body. Even with her messy hair and ill-fitting clothes, Harry swore for a moment she was surrounded by starlight and puffs of cotton candy clouds—a dream on earth. 

His heart skipped a beat with butterflies filling his tummy. Since when was he this far gone? 

A loud thud sounded from the floors below, the only thing that shook Harry from whatever was running through his head that only jumbled the second he remembered this was (Y/N) who was gazing up at him like that. 

"(Y/N)?" he stuttered over her name, his arms dropping limply at his sides.

The call of her name brought focus to her eyes. "Hm?" she hummed, with with a flutter of her lashes. 

"D-Do you know where your water heater is?" he tried again, running a nervous finger under the tip of his nose. 

"Oh, yeah. Sorry," she breathed out on a laugh, rising to her shaky legs, "It's in the basement."

They were quiet as Harry followed her on an impromptu tour of the house, down the two floors to the chilled basement. It was when she reached the landing did she stop in her tracks with a gasp. It took him only a second to peer around her shoulder and find the cause of her widened eyes and fists clutched to her chest. 

The concrete floor of the space was covered in a shallow pool of water. Some spaces the level was lower than others, but there was definitely enough water covering the floor to account for what hadn't been streaming through the shower upstairs. 

"Shit," Harry whispered, spotting the pack of boxes pushed into the very corner of the basement, the bottom row slowly taking on water.

"Those are Mitch's things," she rushed out, following his line of sight, "I need to get them upstairs before anything gets messed up." 

(Y/N) didn't falter after that, splashing through the water with her bare feet. Harry went to follow her, only to have to step out of the way as she was on her way back with a box stacked in her arms. 

"D-Do y'want help?" The question felt a little dumb leaving Harry's mouth, but he didn't want to start rummaging around if she would prefer he stand back.

"Would you, please?" (Y/N) asked from halfway up the stairs, "Thank you so much, Harry." 

Hearing that strain in her voice was all he needed before he was setting off to help her pick up the boxes, trudge through the water and up the steep stairs. By the time there was nothing more than the last few boxes, the bottoms all soaked in the leaked water, he was out of breath but (Y/N) looked a little less stressed. Only a little. 

"Thanks," she panted out again once all of her roommates things were safely tucked away on dry land. Her eyes fluttered closed before she ran a heavy hand over her features, the heels of her palms pressing into her eyes. "I think Mitch is really going to kill me for this one. I don't even know what happened." 

Hands on his hips, Harry remembered the shimmering lake that had taken over the level below. "I don't either, love, but you're going to need to call someone to fix it. 'M sure something is blocked." 

"Probably," she sighed, eyes focusing on a random spot by her feet as she pinched at her lips, "H-How do I get the water out of the basement, though?" 

"Jus' gonna have to mop it up, and use some towels, I think. 'S not a lot, so it shouldn't be too bad." 

"Yeah," she breathed out again, focus coming back to her gaze as it flitted up to return Harry's. "I'm so sorry to ask, but would you be able to help? Even just for a lit—"

"Yeah, of course I can help." A heat touched at his cheeks as he realized just how eagerly he had offered up his help. But, with the way (Y/N) lit up at his agreement to help, he didn't really mind how silly he sounded. 

"Thank you, thank you, thank you. So much, Harry," she beamed at him, already seeming to have more life in her as she toed towards the stairs leading her up a level, "I'll go grab some towels, but the mop is in the kitchen, over there, if you can get that. I'll be right back. Thank you so much!" 

It was with a scuttle of her feet and a twist of her hair fluttering behind her that she disappeared up the staircase. Harry's gaze followed after her for a moment longer, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he felt a smile coming on. 

—————

"Did you always want to do accounting?" 

(Y/N)'s question echoed in the empty basement, sounding over the slopping sound of the mop in Harry's hands sopping up the water that didn't seem to have an end. He shrugged, having expected this question when they started talking about their career-paths (apparently, (Y/N) wanted to be a writer, but she was currently working retail so she could pay the bills in the meantime). 

"Not really," he answered honestly, wringing out the mop into the accompanying bucket that was just under half full at this point, "I actually wanted to get into music, but this seemed more practical." 

"Music?" (Y/N) perked up, wringing out a soaked towel before opting for the slightly drier ones as she worked on her hands and knees, "Like as a singer?" 

A smile plucked at Harry's features at the enthusiasm in her voice. He couldn't remember the last time someone sounded genuinely excited at the idea of learning more about him. 

"Maybe if I felt right, but mostly songwriting and producing. I liked the idea of being in one of those big studios, you know?" The images he'd had of his life when he was young flashed through his head. His heart almost broke at how easily it was to conjure up those pictures despite how long it'd been since he allowed himself to indulge in those what-ifs.

"Did you write a lot of songs then? Anything I might have heard?" (Y/N) wasn't even working anymore, that much Harry could tell when he peeked at her through his lashes. She was sitting back on her heels listening to him, attention rapt and unwavering. 

"No, I never really made music. Everything I've ever written is packed away in some journal in m'attic. I haven't seen it since university, I think." That was a little bit of a lie, if he was being honest. He'd seen it when he was reorganizing the attic space and moving things around. He just didn't have the guts to open it.

He could hear the pout in her voice as she humphed. "That's a bummer. I would have loved to read what you wanted to put to music," she mused, "If you ever find it, would you let me read some of it?" 

Against his will, a memory of him shoving his book into Minerva's hands, asking her to read his latest work—one that was inspired by her—before she refused, not wanting to read any of what his silly hobby spawned. It was a waste, she had told him in her own way; music wasn't a stable job and he needed to wake up before it was too late and he'd sung them into living in a cardboard box. 

Harry made quick work of shoving that thought to the side, inserting himself into the moment with (Y/N) once more. It was the glimmer in her eyes, the smile on her lips, and the fact she asked to read his art that had him answering in a heartbeat. "Of course. You'll be the first person I call." 

The creases that lined her face as her smile grew was enough to wipe those awful moments with Minerva away like the water he was sopping off the floor. Speaking around her smile, she dropped her gaze to the towel in her hands, "So—um—if you wanted to be a songwriter, why did you end up going into accounting? That's a huge field change." 

"Yeah," he sighed, plucking at his bottom lip for a moment of comfort, "Um, she—sorry, Minerva, she thought it would be a better idea to go into something like finance. More stable and real than music." 

"Oh," (Y/N) sounded, voice neutral though he could see her features scrunch up some, "I can see that a little, I guess. Did she ever help you write or anything like that?" 

"Not really. It wasn't something she thought was..." Harry floundered as he remembered all the things she called his songwriting (not worth her time, stupid, an excuse to not find a real job, ect.). Those probably weren't the kind of things to dump on his neighbor. "It was jus' hard for her to get into it the way I did. I usually did all of it alone." 

"Well," she started, a slight pinch lingering in her brows as she crawled to the next section of floor, "I'm sure if she could have helped, she would have." 

Harry didn't have the heart to tell her otherwise. 

"Yeah, but what about you, hm?" he switched, wringing out the mop once more, "What kind best-seller are y'drafting?" 

It seemed that was the perfect question to ask her as she shot into an explantation of the creative writing class she had taken in college and the idea of a narrative that never quite left her (of course only after she rolled her eyes at his best-seller comment. I haven't even finished a single chapter, Harry, she told him though the smile she was biting back still bled into her features). He was wrapped up solidly in the world she was painting for him, even when she shyly brought up the romantic aspects as she was most excited about adding. 

Despite the water seeping through his Vans and chilling him from his toes up, Harry swore he could have stayed in that basement all day long hearing her talk about the things she loved. 

What a privilege that would be.

—————

Minerva didn't even bother to wake Harry up before she was off to work this morning, only leaving a note tacked to the fridge about the shopping that needed to be done today and that she would be home late due to after-work drinks with some of her colleagues. He wasn't all that surprised at that. She seemed to prefer to spend any time she could away from him, no matter where it was.

At least, he had a task that would take up some of the morning and direct his mind off of the sourness that was filling his lungs every time he thought about Minerva. 

Taking his time to clean up after the breakfast his wife made for herself before her day at work, Harry didn't leave for grocery shopping until late in the morning. Armed with Minerva's list as well as the mental one he'd developed after spending so much time at home and in charge of meals, he plucked a trolley and started off through the shelves. 

The store was luckily fairly empty given the time of day he was waltzing through the aisles, and Harry couldn't be more grateful for the chance to move at his own pace. He was feeling particularly slothly today, sluggish limbs and tired eyes, so at least he wasn't being pushed around and feeling rushed to get out of there as soon as he could. He marked off every item he grabbed from the shelves as he went, putting together a menu for the rest of the week. 

It wasn't until he was armed with the ingredients to Minerva's favorite pad Thai recipe—one she probably wasn't even going to eat, he pessimistically decided—that he ran into another's cart. 

"Oh gosh—" 

"I'm sorry—" 

The second he saw who he had accidentally bumped into, every bit of exhaustion evaporated from his limbs. 

(Y/N)'s expression cleared up just the same, the apology on her lips falling away in favor of wrapping her voice around his name. "Hi," she greeted him, "Fancy seeing you here." 

"Yeah, sorry about that," he told her, sounding much too chipper for an apology, "Wasn't watching where I was going." 

"It's alright, I'm happy it was you," she cemented, parking her cart on the other side of the aisle from him, settling in, "How are you?" 

"'M good, thank you," he smiled, "How's your shower and everything? Did that guy end up making it out there?" 

"Yeah, he came a little after you left," she sighed, shaking her head as if recalling the memory made her just as exasperated as she was in real time, "It was so stupid. I don't even know what it was that was blocking my shower, but something was blocking that specific channel so every time I turned it on and tried to get water to come out, I was breaking something else and flooding the basement. I feel like he was being a jerk, but Mitch says that I was probably just in a bad mood." 

Harry shrugged, biting back a smile though he was sure his dimple still poked through. Maybe she was in a bad mood—he wouldn't blame her—, but she hadn't been in one by the time he left. If he really let his heart run away from him, he'd let himself imagine he had been the one to keep her happy.

"At least he got it fixed, right?" he tried, leaning his forearms into the seat of the trolley, chin resting on his fist. 

"Yeah," she smiled, apparently forgetting the supposed attitude she was given, "I got to wash my hair afterwards, so that was nice." He watched as her gaze dropped to the contents of his cart, eyes lighting up when she caught sight of something to pique her interest. "Where did you find that pizza dough? Mitch and I keep ordering out for pizza so I was trying to get stuff to make it ourselves instead." 

An apologetic smile curled his lips before she even finished speaking. "It's over by the cheese counter, but I did grab the last couple. 'M sorry, (Y/N)." 

The second he watched her deflate, the makings of a pout itching at her lips, Harry couldn't help himself. He just wanted to see her smile again. 

"I was planning on using them for lunch today, but, if y'want, y'can come over and-and try it with me? I haven't tried this one before either, so if y'like it, y'can take some home." 

He could barely hear his own voice over the sound of his heartbeat as he allowed his mouth to run ahead of him. 

(Y/N) hesitated from where she stood in front of him, the blunt edges of her teeth sinking into her bottom lip. With a flutter of her lashes, she returned his gaze. "Are you sure? I can just get some next time, it's alright." 

Swallowing, he saw the way out she was giving him, but he found himself wanting to stay just where he'd put himself. 

"'M sure," he cemented, surprised by how lightweight the words felt, "I was going to eat by myself anyway, so at least we could talk a little." 

A beat passed before she offered him a sweet smile and a nod of her head. "Alright. I still have some more shopping to do, but when I'm home, I could come by? As long as you're alright with waiting for me." 

Harry didn't need to think before he was nodding his head. 

Of course he would wait for her.

—————

Was this cheating? 

Harry's chest constricted at the thought. 

He wasn't a cheater, was he?

All he'd done was invite a friend over for lunch and to talk, just as they'd done before. He'd ran into her at the supermarket and asked if she wanted to share some of the food he was planning on making anyway, especially as she was only a door down. That's not cheating, right? 

No, he told himself. They hadn't even touched outside of passing each other when they were lugging up her roommate's belongings upstairs, let alone kiss or go further. And nothing they'd talked about had verged into romantic territory, not even for a second. He talked to her like he would talk to a friend. He'd had female friends before—before Minerva, of course—and this was how he would treat any of them. He would even argue he's held her at a larger distance away, especially since he was married. 

Just because he thought his friend was pretty, didn't mean he was cheating. 

Minerva even knew about he extra time here and there he was spending with (Y/N), though she definitely scoffed and made faces whenever he spoke her name. If he was doing something wrong, he wouldn't have told Minerva anything, right?

Harry couldn't calm his spinning mind as he put away his groceries, spiraling out of control as he contemplated turning (Y/N) away when she came to the door—with all the ingredients for a pizza to make at her own home. But, as much as he was worried about the blurry line he was approaching, he didn't want to say no to her and make her leave. He didn't want the sunshine that was leaking into his life courtesy of his neighbor to become shrouded by clouds once again. 

It was an innocent friendship, and if Harry couldn't handle himself, he would stop it. He vowed to himself that if he came to a point where he was worried he wouldn't be able to not cross into the shades of grey safely, then he would end it. Because he was someone's husband before he was someone's friend. 

It wasn't until he heard a knock on the front door that Harry's frantic hands came to a sputtering halt. Bracing his hands on the edge of the counter where he stood in front of the ingredients for his pizza project, he took a steadying breath. He centered himself for one more moment before going to the door to let his friend in. 

(Y/N) greeted him with a bright smile when he swung the door open. "Hi, stranger," she bubbled, hands folded in front of her dressed in the same comfy set he'd found her in at the grocery. 

"Hi," he greeted her, feeling the stretch of his grin as he took her in. 

Even as he widened the berth of the door, clearing way for her to pass through, (Y/N) nervously toed the porch, eyes giving way to a tinge of anxiety he'd never seen there before. A pinch drew his brows together as he watched her. 

"You're still hungry, right?" he prodded, giving her an out if she decided she would rather be at home. 

His question seemed to shake her from wherever she had crawled to in her head. "Y-Yeah, sorry," she brushed off with a smile, stepping over the threshold and into his home, "I just realized I've never been inside your house before." 

"That's right, huh," he said, smile going lopsided with only a single dimple in his cheek, "Busy couple of weeks for us, then, right? Packing a whole lot of basic friendship things into a few days." 

Harry knew he uttered the word friendship for his benefit only, feeling stiff as it passed his lips. Because this was what this all was. Friends went to each other's houses, and got to know each other through quality time. Nothing nefarious or wrong about that. 

"We've been neighbors for almost a year, and I think I just learned your last name," (Y/N) laughed, waiting for him as he locked the front door before starting off towards the kitchen with her behind him. 

"That's what happens when y'wait to break your shower so y'can invite me over," Harry shrugged, looking over his shoulder with a smug smile on his lips. 

(Y/N) only rolled her eyes, and shook her head as they entered the kitchen. Harry's set up was just as he'd left it: dough rolled out and floured, his favorite pizza sauce set off to the side with every fix-in delegated to different bowls and packages for easing picking. She followed after him with a light to her eyes, taking in the station he'd set up for them. 

"I didn't know what y'might want to put on it, so I jus' got everything out," he explained, starting to feel a little sheepish over the amount of effort he put into his friend's meal. 

"Thank you, Harry," she smiled at him, standing in front of one of the two slabs of rolled out dough, "This is perfect. You're so nice." 

He had to pretend that his heart didn't flutter some at the gentle compliment she gave him. 

Smiling down at his hands, Harry turned towards the sink to wash up before starting to assemble the food so she didn't see the flush he was sure was pricking the tip of his nose. 

Once she'd followed the same procedure before returning to her station, Harry finally chanced a look at her where she stood with expecting eyes. Yeah, she was still pretty.

"Ready?" he murmured, swallowing around the word. 

"Ready." 

—————

"So, you didn't even actually work in the bakery? You did that on purpose, didn't you? So I would be lulled into a sense of trust even though you were only winging it on the bake time for the pizza." 

Harry shrugged his shoulders as he listened to (Y/N)'s very true accusations. There had been something of a squabble over the bake time and temperature, as (Y/N) had supposedly googled the best combination of how long to let them sit under the heat and just how high the dial needed to be twisted while Harry swore by his own method. A wicked smile had curled his lips when he brought out the best end to the argument: his so-called experience.

"You're the worst," she challenged, shaking her head when she saw the quirking of his lips, "You just didn't want me to be right." 

"They turned out jus' fine, didn't they?" Harry countered, jutting his chin out in playful defiance.

(Y/N) muttered out a muted whatever, though the flutter of her lashes and sparkle in her eyes didn't diminish to go along with her faux-attitude.  

A warm silence settled within the dining room as they each took bites of their food, Harry unable to stop himself from looking at her through his lashes. He swore he even caught her drawing her eyes away at the last second during one of his peeks. 

"I hope this doesn't come out wrong," (Y/N) broke the silence, wiping her mouth of the pizza sauce that had collected on the corner, "but, I'm kind of happy you're not working right now. We've actually gotten to get to know each other now that you've been home." 

Looking at her, moony eyes with fluttery lashes and dewy skin glimmering in the sunlight leaking through the windows, Harry wanted to kiss her. That scared him. 

While it might not have been the first time he thought about what it would be like to kiss (Y/N), it had previously always been in the abstract, someone in his place before the fleeting thought was out of his head in a blink. But, this time... this time was it's own beast that has Harry's heart rattling against his ribcage like a criminal in a jail cell.

This time, he had a solid vision of himself, reaching across the dining table he had dinner with his wife at, fitting his hand around the back of (Y/N)'s neck—wedding band and all—before slotting his lips against hers. She was happy she'd had a chance to get to know him, and that was something he hadn't realized he'd ever wanted to hear.

And, that scared him. This was cheating, wasn't it? Married men don't think about kissing other women like that. They don't look across the table and try to pick out the glimmers in their neighbor's eyes, or wonder how soft her lips would be, or wish they could tuck their face into her neck and see if she really smelled like strawberry poundcake like the lotion on her bathroom counter suggested. Married men shouldn't do that. 

Harry swallowed thickly, dropping his gaze to his unfinished slice of misshapen pizza. 

"Is everything okay?" (Y/N) broached, speaking to him as if he were an injured animal, "I didn't mean to make you upset about work. I shouldn't have said it lik—" 

"No, no," Harry shook his head, a stray curl landing across his forehead, "'S not that, don't worry. I know what y'were trying to say." 

"Okay," (Y/N) sounded, the syllables coming out quietly as she placed her pizza down, "Is something else wrong then?" 

How was he supposed to explain to her that he crossed into territory that was too blurry to be safe for him—the one with the wedding band on his finger? She had no idea of what was running through his head as she spoke, the way his heart skipped a beat when she gave him attention he hadn't even known he'd been craving since she approached him in the garden weeks ago. At this pace, he was ruining two relationships at once: his marriage to Minerva and his friendship with (Y/N). 

"(Y/N), I..." he started, unable to think clearly with the way his heart crawled up into his throat. Was there an eloquent way to tell someone you can't see them anymore because you fear you might cheat on your spouse if you became any closer? Was there ever a good time to confess to having feelings for another woman while also cutting them off? 

"Harry," (Y/N) murmured, "you're worrying me. Can you at least tell me if you're alright?" 

"I d-don't know, (Y/N)," he sighed, dropping his head into his hands that were propped up on elbows pinned to the table, "I don't—It might—... I think I might need to take a step back from you." 

Silence fell over the room once more, this time lacking the warmth that it had been filled with less than ten minutes prior.

"I... don't think I understand," she responded, sounding stiff. 

Harry shook his head in his hands, his hair fluffing around his face. "I don't think it's a good idea for us to see each other anymore, es-especially alone like this." 

Heat crawled up his features, starting at the base of his neck as he choked out the words. He couldn't even look at her, but he could fantasize about cheating on his wife with her? 

"Um, okay," (Y/N) said after a beat, words stilted, "I understand. May I ask why, though? Because if it was something I did, I want to apologize at least." 

He shook his head as she spoke. None of this was her fault. Never was an apology from her lips needed over this situation. He dared to peek up at her through the cage of his fingers, finding her with her gaze downcast and shoulders deflated. 

His tongue felt thick as he tried to speak around it, dry throat not helping any. He floundered over the honesty he knew he owed her. "It's jus'... 'M married and all, you know?" 

The pieces seemingly clicked together for (Y/N) without any extra explanation. She gave a slow nod of her head. "Right. I'm sorry if I crossed any boundaries, or anything. I didn't mean to." 

Before he could offer any consolation, tell her that the fault was all his own and she'd been nothing more than the sunshine he'd been aching for since he found himself on a clouded shore, but she was quick to pushed away from the dining table. She offered a polite thank you for lunch, before she was out of the house in record time; the sound of the door shutting behind her lingered longer than she did. 

Scrunching his eyes tightly, Harry couldn't help but dig the pads of his fingers into the soft skin of his eyelids. "Fuck," he whispered to himself in the empty house. In a burst of frustration at the feeling of tears filling his eyes as if he had earned the right to be upset over the entire situation, he slammed his fists onto the table. The china rattled on the surface, only joining in with the ruckus of the loud Fuck! he screamed into the void of his home. 

Slumping back into his chair, Harry stared up at the ceiling for who knows how long until he felt a nerve in the muscles pinch over the position. A labored breath was all he managed to pull into his lungs as he looked over the state of his home. 

He needed to clean up before Minerva came home.

—————

Harry pushed the pad Thai around in his bowl, chopsticks making a dull scraping sound against the porcelain. Minerva—surprisingly home for dinner, which he hadn't been anticipating—had her eyes glued to her phone with a curl to her lips. The house was filled with silence just the way it had been for the last week and a half since Harry brought on his own heartache. 

Since (Y/N) walked out, Harry hadn't been able to get her off his mind. 

Nothing had been the same since the sound of the door slamming after her reverberated through the house. He swore that a part of his heart walked right out after her, trailing behind the home it had been trying to make in the warmth of her. He lied awake that night, wallowing in the mistake he'd made on two women in his life he was supposed to care about and protect. He'd failed on both fronts. 

But, even after he cut himself off from the wallowing—he determined he didn't deserve more than a couple of days since this was all his doing—he found an ache lingering in his bones and a fog clouding his brain. He didn't want to eat, barely made sure he drank some water each day, and wanted nothing more than to hole himself up in the master bedroom though he never managed to actually sleep. If he wasn't distracted enough, his mind would wander too far away, waking up things he'd rather stay asleep. 

He could only recall feeling like this once before: when Minerva had changed, making it very clear she was no longer invested in him or their relationship. 

He was broken-hearted. Over losing (Y/N). 

Maybe he had more than a silly crush on her like he had thought. He found himself wondering in the aftermath if she was alright. Was she blaming herself? Was she keeping busy with her roommate? Was she taking care of herself? It only worried him when he saw her roommate walking the dog around the neighborhood, something that seemed to be (Y/N) job exclusively before this. When he told Minerva that (Y/N) wouldn't be hanging around much anymore, he remembered how angry he became when she laughed, the noise cruel, and said something about how it was about time she'd run off. 

How dare she? he recalled thinking. (Y/N) had never once said a single bad word about her, and yet Minerva couldn't even spare a question on why she wouldn't be over anymore or if something had happened. He'd shared the fact he'd made a real friend for the first time in years, and she didn't bother to ask what would be the cause of the separation, even going so far as to rub it in his face with an I-told-you-so-esque comment? Who was this person he had married?

But, in the end, (Y/N) sat at the forefront of his mind, stealing any selfish thought and reminding him of the real innocent in this situation. She deserved better. 

His feelings for her had been a lot more real than he even realized. If he had known, he liked to think things would have turned out differently for them. 

Holding back a sigh, Harry pinched a bean sprout between his chopsticks as he slumped over the table with his chin in his hands. 

"I heard back from that auto-body place I told you about," Harry offered, filling the silence with his raw voice. Minerva didn't even look up.

"Hm?" 

"That job I applied for—bookkeeping at that auto-body place just out of town. They emailed me back; I have a phone interview with them tomorrow," he shared, hoping the good news would at least make her happy. Maybe, that would be enough to get him out of his head, the static of the house surely not helping him feel normal. 

"Oh," Minerva sounded, a sour expression pinching her features, "You actually applied there? I thought I told you it sounded gross." 

Rolling his neck, he swallowed. "I know, but work is work and that's what I need right now. I can keep looking even if they hire me, I jus' need something right now." 

A roll of her hazel eyes was granted in response to his words. "It's like you don't even listen to me. Sure, you're unemployed, but do you not think it would look worse for you to work at some greasy mechanic? Harry, it's gross, and you would know that if you ever actually listened to me." 

Her biting words touched a nerve Harry didn't even know had been exposed. 

"I listen to you all the time, Minerva," he grumbled, voice low and controlled. His heart pounded in his ears, the sound rising from his chest.

She scoffed at his retort, her phone finally dropping from her hand as she sat up straight in her seat. "Excuse me?" 

"I said," he breathed, tempering himself before he raised his voice, "I always listen to you. Jus' like how I listened to you when y'said I wasn't trying hard enough and thinking too much of myself and not applying to jobs on my level. So, I broadened my search—like you asked—and found this place that would pay nicely and might appreciate what I could bring."

"Oh, now you're just blaming me, like it's my fault you couldn't find anything other than some slum to hire you. Stop being a dick, and just listen to wh—" 

"I am listening! I have listened for the last seven years! And, I don't want to listen anymore, Minerva!" 

It was like the universe knew about the changing tide, a sudden clash of thunder echoing outside that ramped up the storm that had been brewing in the clouds. The second the sky settled, Harry realized the tone and volume of his words and the fact Minerva hadn't said a single thing back, already feeling guilt in his system. 

"I shouldn't have shouted at you, 'm sorry, M—" 

"This is about her, isn't it? 

Harry was taken aback at the accusing tone of voice she used on him. Flicking his gaze between her eyes, he found the anger that had been brewing in her silence. She hadn't been scared or upset that he'd raised his voice—no, she was trying to find the best way to one-up him. 

"Who?" 

"The fucking neighbor you're so obsessed with. This is about her, isn't it? She's been telling you I'm the bad guy for wanting you to get a good job, is that it?" 

Stinging offense touched at Harry's chest. "This has nothing to do with (Y/N), leave her out of this, Minerva. She's never said a bad thing about you, you know that? When all you do is shit on her for no other reason than the fact she exists." 

"I have reason, Harry," she spat, leaning over the table as he voice grew, "Like the fact that my husband eye-fucks her every time she's around! Did you really think I didn't fucking notice?!" 

"'S not like that, Minerva, and you know it." Harry slid his hands into his hair, tugging at the roots in frustration. "Why would you even care, anyway? 'S not like you even like me anymore." 

"Because you're my husband. You are mine, until I decide otherwise. Then you can sleep around with every girl you see—but until then, you have to listen to me." 

Harry didn't even realize a sheen had collected over his eyes, tears in his waterline as he just realized just how trapped he was in that moment, not until Minerva pointed it out to him. 

"Are you really about to cry, right now?" 

"I know you're cheating on me." 

The words slipped past his lips before he even realized they were on the tip of his tongue. He'd barely let himself think about what Minerva was really up to those nights she was getting drinks, or staying late to finish a project, let alone speak them aloud. But now, there they were. In the static silence of the dining room, he was tired of pretending and listening and hoping. 

Minerva seemed to be floored for a second, floundering over her words. "Don't try to turn this on me, Harry—" 

"I do your laundry, you know" he sighed, exhausted now that the biggest weight had left his chest, "I've seen what you wear those nights you're supposedly at the office until one in the morning." 

"Oh, so now I can't wear sexy underwear without your permission—" 

"And, remember when you insisted I share my location with you? Even went through my phone and did it all when I was in the bathroom." Harry swallowed at the memory, but he felt numb to the panic that began to rise in Minerva's eyes. "But, I can see your location, too. I know you're not at the office or whatever bar you pretend to get drinks at when you don't come home." 

She was stock still for a moment before Minerva crossed her arms heavily over her chest, slumping back into her chair. "Okay, and?" she spat, rolling her eyes as if this were another petty argument, "It's not like we haven't been over for years—sorry I wanted to feel loved for once." 

Harry didn't even pay her jabs any mind. None of this mattered anymore to his battered heart. 

"I want a divorce." 

"Harry, we've talked about this. It's no—" 

"I don't care about your job. I want a divorce." 

Venom filled her eyes as she locked her gaze on him.

"You only want this now that you have your little whore next door, isn't it? Yo—" 

"Minerva, please," he heaved, exasperated as his hands fell limp into his lap his neck rolling back to pin his gaze to the ceiling, "Why can't we just be happy? That's all I want. We get a divorce, and you can feel loved by whoever you want and I can get the fuck out of this house." 

Harry didn't look at her even as he heard the sound of her chair scraping against the hardwood floor. "Fucking fine, Harry," she spat his name out like bile, "Get the papers and I'll sign them—no contest, or whatever makes this fastest. But if you want to get out of this fucking house so bad, you can start tonight. Find somewhere else to sleep, asshole." 

With that, his soon-to-be ex-wife stomped upstairs, slamming the master bedroom door hard enough he was sure that his wedding photos would have fallen from the walls had this been a movie. The sickly silent house was filled with the sound of the pelting rain from outside, the interior lit up by lightning strikes and shook by the pounds of thunder. 

He needed to get out of here. 

It was as if he was on autopilot as he moved through the kitchen and out the front door with nothing more than his phone and keys. He didn't even realize where he was going until he was dripping wet with rain soaking him to the bone on (Y/N)'s door step.

He must have missed knocking on her door because he was surprised when he saw the door open wide with (Y/N) standing in her pajamas, concerned etched all over her face with his name forming on her lips.

"I'm getting a divorce." 

(Y/N)'s eyes widened as he cut her off, taking in the rain-sodden man. The water dripping from his hair onto the stained wood of her porch mimicked the watery gaze he stared at her with. 

"Harry, you didn't because of m—" 

"No, no," he swallowed, his mouth working faster than his brain, "No, it's not-not because of you. I should have done this a long time ago, I just let her decide everything for me even if I hated it. You-You made me re-real again. I couldn't stay with her knowing I could be happy again somewhere—somewhere that wasn't with her." 

He watched through bleary eyes as her shoulders raised with a deep breath before she reached out to him. 

"Come inside, you're going to get sick," she murmured, a sad smile on her features that shouldn't have tugged at his heartstrings. 

Taking wooden steps, the cold finally registering on his skin now that the option of warmth was presented in her home as he crossed the threshold. Water dripped onto the hardwood that was identical to what was next door, but felt completely different in a space that actually knew happiness. A man was sat on the couch, long dark hair falling over his shoulder with a pinched mouth and wide eyes taking in the new visitor. 

"Harry," (Y/N) said, stepping around him once the door was locked and closed, "this is my roommate, Mitch. Mitch, this is Harry... our neighbor." 

Mitch nodded his head, rolling his lips between his teeth before he straightened up from his slumped position. "Nice to meet you," he smiled politely before his eyes slid to (Y/N), "I'm gonna go to my room, so if you need anything, just let me know." 

Harry stood with his arms crossed over his chest as they stood, seemingly waiting for the click of Mitch's bedroom door before (Y/N) unfroze. "Um," she mumbled, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear as she met Harry's gaze, "I'm gonna go grab you some clothes to wear while we wash your stuff. Just... wait right here, but I'll be right back."

(Y/N) lingered for a moment longer, placing a gentle hand on his arm to go along with her softened features before she was padding up the stairs. It could have been two minutes or two years that it took (Y/N) to return from her search, but Harry had no idea about the difference. He only took note of her soft hands urging him towards the bathroom, a set of oversized clothing tucked into his arms she told him was her brother's. He wouldn't mind if Harry borrowed them, she assured him. 

Maybe it was the cold or the shock that lingered in his system that kept his joints stiff as he dressed. Once his wet clothes were nothing more than a puddle on the titled floor, heavy and thick with the new set cozied to his form, a hair too big, Harry stopped. With his hands braced on the lip of the counter, he spared himself a glance in the mirror. 

Bloodshot, glistening eyes. Wet, dark hair that lost its curl to the weight of the water. Ruddy cheeks. Swollen lips. He looked a mess. 

But, Harry couldn't remember himself ever looking so relieved. 

He carefully gathered his clothes into his arms, ensuring he didn't dampen his borrowed clothing as he exited the bathroom. (Y/N) was there in an instant, having been waiting just outside the door with a softened smile on her features as she offered to take his clothes, already grabbing for them before he'd even relinquished them. 

It wasn't until she returned from the laundry room, telling him something about the detergent, that Harry realized he was crying. Only because (Y/N) had pointed it out with a short gasp, hands instinctively reaching for him before she bundled them together at her chest. 

"Oh, Harry," she cooed, "I'm so sorry. I can't even imagine what you're going through—" 

"C-Can I hug you?" 

(Y/N) didn't even hesitate before she was gathering him into her arms, Harry's head dropping to her neck with his body pressed flush against hers for no other reason than he hadn't been hugged like this in years. His breathing came in pants against her neck, fanning across her skin while his tears dripped over the curve. (Y/N) settled him as best she could, running a gentle hand over his back while the other swirled through his curls as best she could with their dampened state. 

"'M so relieved," Harry whispered to her when he found his voice, "'M so relieved. Thank you." 

Harry didn't know what he was thanking her for, and he was sure (Y/N) didn't either, but that didn't stop her from holding him tighter.

—————

"Bye, Harry!" 

The delighted shouts that were called through the parking lot at the end of his work day brought a smile to Harry's face. He twisted on his heels, walking backwards for a moment as he waved for all the guys at the mechanic's yard to see. 

"See you all on Monday!" 

Harry couldn't remember ever loving his job the way he loved this one. 

The mechanic was full of some of the nicest people he'd ever met in his life; some grumpy and a bit rambunctious—something he was sure they played up around their quiet accountant, as they called him—but none of them were anything less than welcoming since the day he was brought onto the team. He was excited on the days he worked in office solely because he got to see his friends. There were even nights they went out for drinks or went to a local venue to watch live music, something to relax into the weekend they always told him, and Harry was invited each time. How he worked in an office for almost ten years when this was out there waiting for him, he'd never understand. 

But, Harry didn't like to think about the before years. Thinking about all he missed out on wasn't going to bring back the wasted time, that's what his therapist had told him. 

It had only taken one night at (Y/N)'s and another week and a half at a hotel before Harry had another place lined up—how he was able to manage that, he wasn't sure, but he wasn't going to say no. It took him one weekend to get his things out of Minerva's house, have her sign the divorce papers he filed the days before, and it was over. His wasted time was up. 

As difficult as Minerva liked to be, when she was done with something, she wiped her hands clean. Just as she did with Harry. She was quick to come to agreements about their assets and belongings, staying true to her word about wanting to take whatever route would be the fastest out of the marriage. 

He didn't mind that she got the house and a sizable chunk of their savings. He could get all of that back, and nothing could compare to the relief and freedom he felt now that he was out of that oppressive house. 

Plus, it was cheaper to go grocery shopping for one. 

(Y/N) had been so encouraging through the first few weeks that Harry was trying to make sense of the new world he had called upon for himself. Never interfering or pushing him to do anything he didn't want to. Everything she told him was about his happiness—putting his happiness first. It was her idea that he reach out to someone to talk to about what happened during his marriage, and how to navigate making his own choices without heavy amounts of doubt pushing him back. 

He hadn't seen her much since the night he crashed at her place, knowing that he needed to spend some time with himself, clear headed and heart in his own hands, before he could be in her distracting presence again. He needed to be the best version of himself first before he could be anyone else's. But, she never backed away from him, always there when he needed her, even if just to talk to someone. 

Harry didn't worry about the dirt on his feet as he opened up the door to his apartment, only shucking off his shoes messily by the threshold. He'd get to them later. 

It'd been three months since he moved in, so the place was a little sparse, but it was perfect in Harry's eyes. He'd never lived by himself before. Everywhere he looked, it was him—his things, his family photos, his memories. He loved his little apartment, no matter if it was a downgrade from a two-story, three bedroom house. This was his first home. 

His clothes were left in the hamper as he changed into a comfy set of clothing. He could do laundry tomorrow, no worries, he reminded himself. He had more important things to do. 

Reaching under his bed, Harry grabbed the final unpacked box he had taken from the attic of the old house. Nothing more was written on the cardboard than Harry's Stuff in Minerva's handwriting. Flipping open the top, he found his university gear (really just a pair of sweatpants he swore got him through exams seasons without any complete failures), a set of messily colored pictures gifted to him from when his niece was only a baby, random items from his childhood, and a leather bound journal. 

The journal was wrapped tightly closed with a matching length of string. The cover was doodled upon with stars and quotes, Harry's name scrawled across the front of the book. It mimicked him, he realized; covered in sketchbook like drawings, but it was all him. 

Inside, he knew there were songs from years ago he probably didn't even remember writing. A smile touched at his features as he untied the string holding the journal together. 

But, before he could flip through the pages again, he knew he had to make a call. 

With his phone to his ear, the ringing echoed in his ears until he heard the telltale click.

"Harry!" (Y/N) happily chirped on the other side, "How are you?

Hearing her voice, he swore it was easier to breathe. "Hi, 'm doing good," he greeted her, voice dreamy and mellow, "Are y'doing anything tonight?"

A beat passed before she spoke again, the smile he could hear in her voice easy to imagine. "I don't think so, why?" 

He promised (Y/N) she would be the first he called when he found his music again. 

"I want to show y'something."

He was happy to wait for her. 

—————

this is....very different for me ngl HUSHFUSHF I had a very different direction I was thinking about when I started this and then completely went off the rails and turned into something sadder than anything else ive written so...thanks for sticking through it I guess shfushfush thank you sm for reading and sorry for any mistakes (and the fact they don't even kiss ???)! if you have any ideas or requests of your own please send them in!

[baravaggio]

actually story time

when I was in college I had a period of time where I would hook up with this guy every once in a while, it was the worst kind of situationship where there were like. a lot of heavy family issues involved and we weren't really friends, he definitely saw me as a convenient source of emotional support with a side of pussy lol...I was like, riding all the way out to coney island late at night to meet him so he wouldn't hurt himself, that sort of thing. at the time I was going through my own shit wrt starting to understand my sexuality, won't rehash how agonizingly drawn out & painful that was for me, but I got to a point where I thought I had a little clarity on it and had decided to tentatively call myself bisexual (for like a week lmao). and - very very stupidly - I told him this in the interest of reciprocity, because he had shared so much with me about his situation and at the time I saw that more as an honest display of vulnerability than like. him indiscriminately using me as an emotional crutch

looking back the 180 he did on me was pretty awful, it started with like, gross fetishistic curiosity, which I cautiously tolerated within limits because it was new for me too and I was honestly grateful to speak openly about things after a lifetime of keeping it all padlocked in a secret compartment in my brain. he wanted to know where I was & what I was doing all the time, which annoyed me because we weren't together or anything, and even if we were that wouldn't be cool. he even outed me to some people, usually when I ignored him for too long, and tried to convince me it was no big deal

sex was obviously where shit really hit the fan, I won't get into details outside of saying he suddenly would get physically rough with me without asking after having never done that before. again, no details but one of my worst memories was when he started saying disgustingly homophobic things to me about me in bed. I ghosted after that. shortly after he started spam texting me with homophobic slurs & rape threats until I blocked him. I was very lucky that this coincided with the end of the semester and his move & transfer, and that it didn't escalate to physical stalking or anything.

of course I literally never told anyone this, I compartmentalized it for a long time (10 years LOL) when I started IDing as a lesbian because I wanted so badly to make it irrelevant to my life and frankly was very embarrassed by how I let it go that far. but it's really been haunting me since I reassessed all that. it can make figuring out how I go about navigating certain types of sex and even platonic relationships painful and complicated. aside from logistics & other preferences, it's a big reason why I feel the need to keep things casual and unromantic, even as I've managed to work through some of this & have healing and transformative experiences with specific people. last year I had a terribly hurtful argument with a younger gay woman in which I was told the stuff he did to me would've hurt even more if I didn't have the capacity to be into him at all, which has thrown me back into a place of deep angry silence about all of this yet again.

idk. I try to not be so sensitive about dumb bullshit I read but it's very hard when I've experienced the dismissive attitudes and callousness irl. I do my best to hold my head up and do my thing but the routine dehumanization & lack of sensitivity upsets me. I'm angered by the way so many people think they have nothing they could possibly learn from our experiences and thoughts about how these systems affect us, that there's nothing we could share that they don't already know. it hurts my feelings that so many people automatically take our attempts to share these thoughts as an attack on them, regardless of how carefully we phrase things. and on a personal level it hurts to currently have nowhere irl or online where I feel like I can talk about the pain of what I've shared here (or even the healing moments I've experienced) without someone telling me off for not behaving the way they think I should lol.

anyway. I really do wish I was strong enough to let this all slide off my back just for the purposes of my own well-being. I'm trying to limit what I see about these issues so I don't feel tempted to mentally engage. when I see sentiments that clearly want to make me & those like me feel like less than nothing, all I can think about is how there are girls even more raw and vulnerable than me seeing this stuff and it makes me heart ache. even so I know there are people out there who will understand me, I hope to find them one day so I can move through everything with more grace

[saltyblueshark]

I can’t believe that I wasted an entire class period typing this out, but hells, it’s a hyper-fixation now.

Anyway, here’s part 1:

I think both Jokerbat and Superbat are cute, however, Jokerbat makes more sense logistically, only because they are villain and hero in that classic ship. Superbat makes less logical sense, but they do make a good team when they need to work together.

(I can't believe I'm actually about to make a whole ass essay about this rn)

So, in order to actually talk about this, We gotta break down the potential categories they could fall under. Starting with Jokerbat, it can fall under a few different, and commonly seen, tropes:

Hero/villain, a tale as old as time and a long beloved trope to many.

Enemies to lovers, ah the long argued and debated trope that is either loved or hated with no in between.

Forbidden love, seen in many forms of media, most commonly romance novels.

Now, getting into the break down of Jokerbat.

As much as I love and support the ship, I feel like it runs into a few problems.

The relationship is built off of the fact that Joker is Batman’s villain, and that they’re a duo that’s been together for years. Although it is a relationship, it’s not necessarily one that can build a romantic bond mostly because it’s been a fight between the two since the beginning of any Batman media. The lego Batman movie seem to be trying to imply that joker really wants to be more than just a villain to Batman, seen as the entire movie it jam packed with innuendo and hints at an intimate—in one way or another—connection between the two. However, that doesn’t necessarily make it a healthy relationship. One thing is for certain: Joker’s romantic, or non romantic feelings towards Batman are very one sided, and are not entirely reciprocated on Batman’s part. The only time Batman has ever really acknowledged any type of relationship that is more than a hero/villain one is in the lego Batman movie when everything is going to hell and back. During that scene, Batman confesses to Joker—or “J-bird” as he so lovingly put it— that he also has feelings for him and begs for his help, essentially saving their relationship by saving the city. The two have to reconnect in order to save Gotham in an oddly cute scene where it looks as if the two are about to kiss, but that’s disregarding why Joker was planning to destroy Gotham in the first place. Joker wanted to prove he was truly Batman’s greatest enemy.

Their relationship is not built off of trust, but the fact that they are made to be enemies. A romantic relationship could be formed, but it would not be healthy. They’ve been fighting for years, so who’s to say that if they did form any form of romantic bond that it wouldn’t just crumble and break under the pressure of a long upheld villain/hero relationship?

[femmefatalevibe]

Hi! Question, how to be a good friend? I am recently trying to be friends with women, since I have always been friends with men. And I lacked the emotional intelligence and vulnerability aspect which I’m still working on. It’s been difficult to become a friend and keep friendships now since I’ve lost many women based friendships because they were cruel to me and bullied me and put me down. I didn’t realize it was so bad til I expressed it to family and they snapped me out of my denial. How can I be friends with high value women and be a good friend? I want to also reciprocate my good values and I’m unsure how to since I’ve been so traumatized and taken advantage of by past women based friendships. Hope that makes sense! Thank you :)

Hi love! You sound very self-aware, and it sounds like you've made tremendous progress in learning how to be vulnerable/express your feelings. Glad to hear that you decided to protect your peace and cut the negative people/relationships out of your life. Here are some of my tips on how to be a good friend (especially to other women):

Approach finding friends like you would dating (which is essentially a networking activity). Meet and mingle with as many people as you desire but refine your vetting process for your friends well before your next social interaction – whether it's a group get-together, coffee/lunch date, or a party/work event from which prospective friendship could potentially flourish.

Set your friendship standards. Know the types of people, common interests, values, lifestyle, etc., you desire to have within your friendships. Consider the type and frequency of communication that gives you energy. Be aware of your boundaries so you can communicate them calmly, clearly, and with kindness. Embody the type of friend you would want to have in your life already. Compatibility will minimize conflict in any type of relationship, including friendships.

Remind yourself that it can be more fulfilling to have friends that suit different needs, interests, activities, and sides of your personality. Once you understand what your "ideal" friend or friendships look like, you use this "best friend" archetype to divide up these qualities among the people you meet IRL. See if you click with someone who suits some of these characteristics & shared goals/interests. Choose friends you admire in different areas of their lives. Some friends may be in your life because you connect over your ambitious personalities or bond over working in the same industry/field. Other friends may be so much fun to go out with or chat about romantic relationships with, while others can be great travel companions, intellectuals, workout class friends, etc.

Practice differentiation. Understand both of you have your own boundaries, expectations, desires, and personal limits. Communicate your needs directly without people pleasing while still showing empathy and validating the other person's equal right to have their own boundaries, expectations, desires, and emotional/logistical limitations. People-pleasing is a form of manipulation because this self-sacrificing leaves you resentful of the relationship and blindsides the other person because they didn't know they crossed your boundaries. If someone crosses your boundaries and you address it from a compassionate "it's me, not you" POV, genuine friends will react to your reply from a place of understanding. To be a good friend, you need to do the same. Good friends respect each others' needs and would never threaten the friendship because you need to take care of yourself first.

Be their ultimate hype woman. Show up when it counts, follow up, and engage with a genuine interest. Cheer your friends on when they're going after and achieve their goals. Don't let jealousy & a scarcity mindset get to you. Show support for their wins. Be genuinely happy for them. Go to their milestone events (if you're invited and able to within reason), and send them words of encouragement before a big work presentation, interview, date, etc. Follow up after a coffee date to see how a certain conversation or event went if it seemed important to them. Ask them questions and thoughtful follow-up questions about their lives/something they brought up to discuss. Curiosity is the simplest way to form a connection – especially in conversation.

Don't try to one-up your friends. You appear haughty and insecure when you do this. Good friends complement and compound – not compromise – each others' successes.

Keep it real. Set each other up to win. Good friends don't let their friends ruin their lives, goals, health, or reputation. Call out a friend's bad or desperate behavior by using language that criticizes their behaviors vs. their character (Ex: "Remember how bad your ex made you feel about yourself, you don't deserve to put yourself through that again and spend this precious time with people who care about you or going on dates with others who will value what you have to offer." vs. "You're dumb for getting back together with your ex. You're so desperate for his attention/to be in a relationship." Another example: "Yeah, not working out and eating junk food all day can make you feel sluggish and lazy. You're too cool to be acting like this. It's time to live a healthier lifestyle again so you can be your best self so we can all appreciate your energy to the fullest again." vs. "You've turned into a slob. Get it together.")

Be trustworthy. Everything they share in confidence is top-secret information unless they disclose otherwise. Only share their successes in public. Keep friends' struggles private. Don't be two-faced. Stand by your friend to their face and when they leave the room.

Schedule time to make each other a priority. Invite them out. Set a date on the weekly/monthly calendar to hang out, Facetime, have a long catch-up call with each other, etc. Create fun rituals you do together with each friend or in groups of friends.

Follow through with the plans you set in stone (unless there's a true emergency/late night at work/you feel sick, etc.). Never cancel last minute unless it's essential for your well-being. Show up when you say you will. Respect other people's time. Don't be flaky.

Hope this helps xx

[findsupply]

2024 to learn to use the new refrigeration technology technology to ensure the continuous freshness of vegetable food

With the development of modern society, refrigeration technology plays an increasingly important role in our daily lives. From home air conditioning to commercial refrigeration, from the medical cold chain to food processing, refrigeration technology is used everywhere. In this field, professional refrigeration technology has become the key to promote the development of the industry and bring comfort and convenience to our lives.

The importance of specialized refrigeration technology cannot be overstated. First of all, it provides a comfortable temperature for our living and working environment. In the hot summer, air-conditioning systems can bring us coolness and comfort, and the support and innovation of professional refrigeration technology is indispensable behind these refrigeration equipments.

Secondly, specialized refrigeration technology also plays an important role in food preservation and healthcare. In food processing and refrigerated transportation, refrigeration technology can extend the shelf life of food and ensure its freshness and safety. In the medical field, cold chain transportation and refrigeration equipment ensure the quality of medicines and vaccines, and play a vital role in disease control and prevention.

The development of specialized refrigeration technology is dependent on technological innovation and continuous progress within the industry. For example, advanced compressor technologies such as Semi-Hermetic compressors, Scroll compressors and Screw compressors, as well as various types of condensing unit products, are all important components of specialized refrigeration technology. The continuous innovation and enhancement of these technologies has brought about a huge improvement in the performance, efficiency and reliability of refrigeration equipment, as well as a better user experience. Next, let's discover the various types of refrigeration compressor models:

Semi-Hermetic compressor, this compressor is compact, suitable for small and medium-sized refrigeration systems, with high reliability, easy maintenance and so on. The company's Semi-Hermetic compressor is widely used in commercial refrigeration and freezing equipment, industrial refrigeration equipment and other fields, well received by consumers.

Scroll compressor, another product that has attracted a lot of attention is it. This compressor adopts advanced scroll compression technology, featuring smooth operation, low noise and high efficiency. It is widely used in air conditioning, heat pumps, commercial refrigeration equipment and other fields, and can provide reliable refrigeration solutions.

Screw Compressor, this kind of compressor is suitable for large refrigeration system, with high efficiency and good stability, etc. Screw Compressor is widely used in industrial refrigeration, cold storage, cold chain logistics and other fields, which can provide very powerful refrigeration capacity.

Reciprocating Compressor is also a common refrigeration equipment, which is used to inhale low-temperature and low-pressure vapors, increase their temperature and pressure through compression, and then discharge the high-temperature and high-pressure vapors. This type of compressor is commonly used in refrigeration systems, including domestic refrigerators, commercial cold storage equipment, air conditioning systems, industrial refrigeration equipment, and more. This type of compressor is usually characterized by simple structure, high reliability, large refrigeration capacity, etc., and is suitable for refrigeration systems of various sizes.

Condensing Unit, this is in addition to compressor products, various other types of condensing unit products. These units are compact, stable performance, can be widely used in commercial refrigeration and freezing equipment, catering cold storage and other occasions, can provide comprehensive refrigeration solutions.

In addition to the above, there are more 2024 new refrigeration technology products waiting for you to discover, now immediately click to learn more: https://youtu.be/SlXrf5VmqsE?si=u7y4viIEIax98Oi2

original resource：https://youtu.be/SlXrf5VmqsE?si=u7y4viIEIax98Oi2

[aircompressor88]

Why Gujarat's Air Compressor Manufacturers Are Gaining International Recognition

In recent years, Gujarat has emerged as a significant player in the global air compressor manufacturing industry. With its strategic location, robust infrastructure, and a thriving industrial sector, Gujarat's air compressor manufacturers have earned international recognition for their exceptional quality and innovation. This blog delves into the reasons behind the growing acclaim of Gujarat's air compressor manufacturers and explores how they are making their mark on the global stage.

1. Strategic Location and Infrastructure

Gujarat’s strategic location on the western coast of India provides manufacturers with easy access to major international shipping routes. This geographical advantage facilitates the export of air compressors to various global markets. The state's well-developed infrastructure, including modern ports, efficient logistics networks, and industrial hubs, supports the smooth and cost-effective distribution of products worldwide. Gujarat's industrial zones are equipped with state-of-the-art facilities, allowing manufacturers to produce high-quality air compressors that meet international standards.

2. Commitment to Quality and Innovation

Gujarat's air compressor manufacturers are renowned for their commitment to quality and innovation. The adoption of advanced manufacturing technologies and adherence to stringent quality control processes ensure that products are reliable and durable. Many manufacturers in Gujarat invest significantly in research and development (R&D) to stay ahead of industry trends and incorporate the latest technological advancements into their products. This focus on continuous improvement and innovation has enabled Gujarat’s manufacturers to offer cutting-edge air compressors that cater to diverse industrial needs.

3. Skilled Workforce and Expertise

A key factor contributing to Gujarat's growing reputation in the air compressor industry is its highly skilled workforce. The state boasts a pool of experienced engineers, technicians, and manufacturing professionals who possess the expertise required to design and produce high-performance air compressors. Gujarat's educational institutions and technical training centres play a crucial role in nurturing talent and providing specialized training, which further enhances the capabilities of the workforce.

4. Competitive Pricing and Value for Money

Gujarat's air compressor manufacturers are known for offering competitive pricing without compromising on quality. The state's efficient production processes and cost-effective raw material sourcing enable manufacturers to provide excellent value for money. This pricing advantage has made Gujarat's air compressors attractive to international buyers, who seek high-quality products at competitive rates. The combination of affordability and superior quality has contributed to the growing popularity of Gujarat-made air compressors in global markets.

5. Adherence to International Standards

To gain international recognition, Gujarat's air compressor manufacturers adhere to rigorous international standards and certifications. Compliance with global quality standards such as ISO, CE, and ASTM ensures that their products meet the stringent requirements of various markets. By obtaining these certifications, manufacturers demonstrate their commitment to maintaining high standards of quality and safety, which helps build trust and credibility with international customers.

6. Diverse Product Range

Gujarat’s air compressor manufacturers offer a diverse range of products tailored to meet the needs of various industries. From reciprocating compressors and screw compressors to centrifugal compressors and oil-free compressors, the variety of products available ensures that customers can find solutions that suit their specific requirements. This extensive product range allows manufacturers to cater to different sectors, including manufacturing, construction, automotive, and healthcare, thereby expanding their market reach.

7. Focus on Sustainability and Environmental Responsibility

Sustainability and environmental responsibility are becoming increasingly important in the global market. Gujarat's air compressor manufacturers are recognizing this trend and are taking proactive measures to enhance the environmental performance of their products. Many manufacturers are investing in energy-efficient technologies and eco-friendly practices to reduce the carbon footprint of their compressors. This commitment to sustainability not only aligns with global environmental goals but also appeals to international customers who prioritize green and eco-friendly solutions.

8. Strong Export Market Presence

Gujarat's air compressor manufacturers have successfully established a strong export market presence through strategic partnerships and distribution networks. By participating in international trade fairs, exhibitions, and industry conferences, manufacturers showcase their products to a global audience and build valuable business relationships. The growing number of international clients and export contracts reflects the increasing recognition of Gujarat's air compressor manufacturers on the global stage.

9. Customer-Centric Approach

A customer-centric approach is integral to the success of Gujarat's air compressor manufacturers. They prioritize customer satisfaction by offering customized solutions, prompt service, and comprehensive support. By understanding the unique needs of their clients and providing tailored products and services, manufacturers build long-term relationships and enhance their reputation in international markets. This focus on customer service contributes to positive word-of-mouth and strengthens their global presence.

10. Government Support and Incentives

The Gujarat government plays a supportive role in promoting the state's manufacturing sector. Various policies and incentives, such as tax benefits, subsidies, and infrastructure support, encourage investment and growth in the air compressor industry. Government initiatives aimed at enhancing industrial capabilities and fostering innovation create a conducive environment for manufacturers to thrive and gain international recognition.

Conclusion

Gujarat's air compressor manufacturers are gaining international recognition due to a combination of factors, including their strategic location, commitment to quality and innovation, skilled workforce, competitive pricing, adherence to international standards, diverse product range, focus on sustainability, strong export market presence, customer-centric approach, and government support. These elements collectively contribute to the success and global acclaim of Gujarat's air compressor manufacturers, making them a prominent player in the international market. As the industry continues to evolve, Gujarat's manufacturers are well-positioned to maintain their competitive edge and further strengthen their global reputation.

[fldebtcollectionattorney]

Creditors’ Rights in International Debt Collection

A Global Commitment to Creditors’ Rights Navigating the intricacies of foreign legal systems can be daunting for creditors seeking to recover debts internationally. Complex cultural differences, language barriers, and varying legal protocols can obstruct the path to successful debt recovery. At Marcadis Singer PA, we leverage decades of experience across six continents to provide seamless international debt recovery solutions. Our global network and partnerships ensure that creditors receive the compensation they deserve, regardless of the challenges posed by different jurisdictions. Overcoming International Debt Recovery Challenges Globalization has made communication and logistics faster and easier, but recovering debts across borders remains a significant challenge for many creditors. Differences in legal frameworks and enforcement mechanisms can make it difficult to convert domestic debt collection capabilities into effective international recovery strategies. However, Marcadis Singer PA specializes in bridging these gaps. We partner with qualified attorneys who are well-versed in the nuances of multinational protocols, ensuring that our clients' financial interests are protected globally. Our approach includes: - Cultural Fluency: Understanding and navigating cultural differences to enhance communication and negotiation effectiveness. - Language Proficiency: Leveraging our team's proficiency in multiple languages to overcome linguistic barriers. - Reciprocal Court Recognition: Facilitating the recognition and enforcement of judgments across borders to ensure creditors receive their due compensation.   Expand Your Recovery Globally Don’t let international debts go uncollected due to perceived obstacles. Marcadis Singer PA’s global creditors’ rights practitioners are here to help you recover assets hidden across borders. We view borders not as barriers but as permeable membranes that can be crossed with properly translated judgments and the support of aligned foreign counsel. Call us today at (813) 288-1881 or contact us online to schedule a consultation and start recovering unpaid sums from evasive transnational counterparties. Legal Disclaimer This article provides general information only and does not constitute formal legal or financial advice. International laws, regulations, and procedural rules vary significantly across jurisdictions, affecting potential collection options and outcomes. Seek qualified cross-border collections counsel to explore available options for pursuing international debts based on your unique situation. References - Corporate Creditors Protection Rights Worldwide - Global Debt Collections Guide Read the full article

[waheelawhisperer]

Waheela and Exia for relationship dynamics meme?

Doctor Waheela is very close friends with Texas and thus comes into contact with Exusiai a lot. He doesn't spend as much time with her as he does with Texas (who is part of the official bodyguard roster), but they still hang out a fair bit. She tries to get him to go drinking and partying with her, but he has very sensitive ears and is not a fan of how loud Penguin Logistics parties tend to get. He'll show up sometimes to make her happy, but he's more likely to say yes if she asks him to hit the bar instead of a club.

They get along really well, honestly. Doctor Waheela is very much the type who is happy to participate in Shenanigans, and he thrives in situations where the sort of cartoon logic Penguin Logistics operates under comes into play, so it's easy for him to fit in with Exusiai's social circle and they find common ground without much difficulty. They laugh at each other's jokes a lot, even the bad ones wlthat make Texas cringe. They're both kind and generous people who put great store in helping people in need, even if Doctor Waheela is a bit more pragmatic about how he allocates his resources (and thus isn't constantly broke. 20% of his charity work is feeding this angel), so they've definitely bonded over their mutual desire to make the world better for the people around them.

Doctor Waheela is also remarkably insightful when it comes to dealing with Exusiai's trauma. He also hides what he's feeling behind jokes and smiles and eventually comes to recognize Exusiai's loneliness and coping strategies once he becomes a little more aware of his own issues (just aware enough to bury them as deeply as possible and refuse to ever acknowledge or deal with them, as a matter of fact). He offers her support when she needs it and helps her heal the wounds Laterano left on her psyche to some degree, and she reciprocates later down the line when this poor dog is really Going Through It

He's also extremely supportive of her relationship with Fiammetta

[moveittech]

The Ascendance of Petite Relocators: Tailored Transfers in a Vast Industry

Introduction

Moving, whether traversing nearby or journeying cross-country, can instill trepidation. From bundling belongings to orchestrating logistics, the process often overwhelms individuals and families alike. Amidst the expansive realm of moving services, diminutive moving enterprises are emerging as champions of customized, streamlined solutions. In this piece, we delve into the domain of petite moving companies, exploring their distinctive advantages, customer-centric methodologies, and the rationales driving their burgeoning popularity.

The Genesis of Diminutive Moving Enterprises

Traditionally, behemoth moving corporations monopolized the industry, proffering standardized services on a monumental scale. Nonetheless, the one-size-fits-all paradigm frequently left clients feeling like mere cogs in a machine. Diminutive moving companies have arisen in response, proffering a more personalized touch to the moving milieu. These enterprises are frequently locally owned and operated, deeply enmeshed in their communities, and fixated on forging enduring relationships with their clientele.

Advantages of Diminutive Moving Companies

A paramount advantage of diminutive moving companies is their adaptability. Unlike their colossal counterparts bound by inflexible protocols, petite movers can accommodate the idiosyncratic needs of each client. Be it a eleventh-hour alteration in moving date or particularized packing requisites, petite moving companies can cater to individual predilections effortlessly.

Moreover, the bespoke service tendered by diminutive movers engenders trust and dependability. Patrons interact directly with the moving cadre, cultivating rapport and ensuring lucid communication throughout the endeavor. This personalized approach often engenders heightened patron satisfaction rates and positive word-of-mouth referrals, propelling the ascendancy of diminutive moving companies.

Customer-Centric Methodologies

Diminutive moving companies prioritize patron contentment above all else. From the inaugural inquiry to the ultimate delivery, every facet of the moving odyssey is tailored to meet the distinct needs of the client. This hands-on approach enables patrons to feel supported and reassured during what can be a taxing period.

Furthermore, diminutive movers frequently go above and beyond to provide value-added services. Whether tendering packing pointers, furnishing packing materials, or aiding with furniture assembly, these enterprises endeavor to render the moving experience as seamless as possible for their clients.

Community Engagement and Sustainability

Diminutive moving companies are deeply enmeshed in their local communities. They apprehend the significance of reciprocity and actively engage in communal events and initiatives. By patronizing petite movers, clients not only reap the benefits of personalized service but also contribute to the growth and sustainability of their environs.

Moreover, many diminutive moving companies prioritize sustainability in their operations. From employing eco-friendly packing materials to optimizing route planning for fuel efficiency, these enterprises endeavor to curtail their environmental footprint whilst delivering top-tier service.

Conclusion

In a marketplace dominated by corporate titans, diminutive moving companies stand out for their personalized approach, adaptability, and dedication to patron satisfaction. By prioritizing individual exigencies and fostering robust communal ties, these companies are redefining the moving panorama. As more individuals seek customized solutions and genuine interpersonal connections, the allure of diminutive moving companies continues to burgeon, affirming that in the realm of moving, grandeur isn't always synonymous with superiority.

[cruetlyfarm2]

The Power of Proximity: Why Hiring Near Me Matters

In the ever-evolving landscape of employment, the concept of proximity holds a unique and enduring significance. While technology has facilitated remote work and expanded the reach of job opportunities, there remains a strong case for prioritizing hiring near me. From fostering local economies to building stronger communities and enhancing work culture, the benefits of hiring locally are manifold and worth exploring.

Economic Empowerment

At its core, hiring near me is a testament to the belief in the strength and potential of local economies. When businesses invest in local talent, they not only bolster job creation within their communities but also contribute to the overall economic prosperity. By keeping employment opportunities close to home, companies can help stimulate spending, support small businesses, and foster a cycle of growth that benefits everyone.

Community Connection

Beyond its economic implications, hiring near me fosters a sense of community connection and pride. Employees who work close to home are more likely to feel invested in the success of their local businesses and actively participate in community events and initiatives. This sense of belonging not only enhances employee satisfaction but also strengthens the ties between businesses and the communities they serve.

Cultural Cohesion

Culture plays a pivotal role in shaping the identity and success of any organization. Hiring near me can facilitate cultural cohesion by bringing together individuals who share common values, experiences, and perspectives shaped by their local surroundings. This shared cultural understanding can foster stronger collaboration, communication, and a sense of camaraderie among team members, ultimately driving organizational success.

Operational Efficiency

Practical considerations also come into play when considering the benefits of hiring near me. Proximity can streamline operational processes by reducing commute times, facilitating in-person meetings, and minimizing logistical challenges associated with remote work. Additionally, hiring locally can enhance talent retention by providing employees with greater flexibility and work-life balance, leading to higher levels of productivity and job satisfaction.

Environmental Impact

In an era of increasing environmental consciousness, hiring near me aligns with sustainable business practices. By minimizing the need for long commutes and reducing carbon emissions associated with transportation, companies can play a proactive role in mitigating climate change and promoting environmental stewardship. Supporting local talent also helps reduce reliance on global supply chains, further contributing to sustainability efforts.

Building Trust and Loyalty

Lastly, hiring near me fosters trust and loyalty among employees, employers, and customers alike. When businesses prioritize local hiring, they demonstrate a commitment to investing in their communities and supporting the livelihoods of their neighbors. This sense of mutual support and reciprocity builds trust and fosters long-term loyalty, both internally among employees and externally among customers and stakeholders.

Conclusion

In an era defined by globalization and digital connectivity, the value of hiring near me remains undeniably relevant. From economic empowerment and community connection to cultural cohesion and operational efficiency, the benefits of prioritizing local talent are far-reaching and impactful. By embracing the power of proximity, businesses can not only drive their own success but also contribute to the growth and vitality of the communities they call home.

[akkii23]

Empowering Independent Sales: Tools, Techniques, and Tactics

In the powerful panorama of developing, accomplishment isn’t pretty much making high-quality goods it’s also regarding how effectively those merchandise achieve the marketplace. In this particular ecosystem, manufacturer’s staff play a vital position, acting because the connection between suppliers in addition to their target audience. Nevertheless, the actual power of your manufacturer’s representative is not simply inside their power to sell goods, but also in their capability to type powerful partnerships. These partnerships, built on trust, conversation, and reciprocal gain, will be the Independent Sales Reps from the very competitive arena of developing reflection.

To start with, powerful connection lays the basis for just about any productive collaboration. Manufacturer’s repetitions must serve as liaisons involving the manufacturer and the buyer, making sure the two of you possess a very clear comprehension of each other’s requirements, anticipations, and capabilities. Very clear connection routes help easier purchases, prevent misconceptions, and foster have confidence in, that is necessary for long-term partnership.

Furthermore, rely on will be the money of productive relationships. Producers depend upon repetitions to symbolize their logo and items with sincerity and professionalism and trust. On the other hand, consumers rely on representatives to deliver on promises and offer alternatives that satisfy their needs. Believe in is earned through constant functionality, clear deals, and a dedication to providing importance. When rely on is founded, relationships flourish, creating improved revenue, recurring company, and good testimonials.

Additionally, the strength of relationship stretches past the transactional facet of enterprise. Manufacturer’s repetitions who see themselves as proper lovers as an alternative to mere revenue agencies can offer additional value to both manufacturers and clients. By learning the industry landscaping, identifying styles, and supplying important ideas, reps can play a role in item growth, advertising techniques, and total business progress. This consultative technique not only strengthens the partnership but also elevates the rep from a dealer to a trustworthy advisor.

Alliance is another essential facet of productive relationships in production representation. Companies and representatives must interact closely, benefiting each other’s skills to attain popular objectives. Whether or not it’s developing tailored solutions, perfecting provide sequence logistics, or utilizing progressive marketing and advertising strategies, alliance breeds development and pushes mutual good results. When each party are in-line within their aims and work seamlessly towards them, the outcomes are amplified, resulting in higher industry penetration and profitability.

Furthermore, maximizing success as being a manufacturer’s repetition demands a unremitting give attention to customer care. Customers are the lifeblood for any company, and going above their requirements is vital. By providing excellent support, addressing worries promptly, and giving continuing support, representatives can grow devoted buyers who turn out to be brand name supporters. Content customers not simply give rise to profits progress through repeat business but in addition act as useful references, appealing to new prospects and expanding the rep’s market reach.

Finally, adaptability is important in navigating the ever-developing landscape of production. Industry styles, buyer choices, and technical advancements are constantly transforming, introducing both obstacles and options. Manufacturer’s repetitions who accept modify, stay knowledgeable about sector improvements, and proactively change their techniques are better equipped to thrive in this dynamic environment. Versatility, in addition to a motivation to learn and innovate, enables representatives to keep ahead of the bend and sustain a competitive edge.

In summary, the potency of partnership is the building block of achievement for manufacturer’s representatives in today’s production scenery. By cultivating robust interactions developed on conversation, rely on, collaboration, and customer satisfaction, reps can take full advantage of their performance and push common success for both suppliers and customers. In an market where competition is intense and markets are constantly developing, ideal relationships are not only advantageous they are essential for continual growth and success.

[digimark1102]

Importance of Distribution Channel

A distribution channel is a business's lifeline, ensuring that products and services reach their intended customers quickly. Several factors contribute to the importance of a distribution channel:

Market Access: Distribution channels provide businesses access to markets that would otherwise be inaccessible. Companies can extend their consumer base and sales potential by using existing networks in geographically remote or densely populated places.

Cost Savings: Efficient distribution routes frequently result in lower costs. Businesses can gain economies of scale by aggregating shipments, using bulk transportation, and optimizing routes, which reduces storage, handling, and transportation costs.

Customer Convenience: A strong distribution channel guarantees that products are available when and when customers require them. Whether through physical retail shops, internet platforms, or direct sales, accessibility boosts client happiness, fostering loyalty and repeat purchases.

Product Visibility: The presence of products in several distribution sites increases visibility. Multiple touchpoints, such as retailers, wholesalers, and online marketplaces, raise brand awareness and recall among customers.

Risk Mitigation: Diversifying distribution channels can help to manage the risks associated with market swings, regulatory changes, and unexpected interruptions. A diverse approach ensures that organizations are not unduly reliant on a single channel, providing protection against unexpected downturns.

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Feedback Mechanism: Distribution channels provide as a conduit for useful feedback from end users. Businesses can use intermediaries to obtain information on product performance, consumer preferences, and market trends, allowing them to make more informed decisions and improve continuously.

Competitive edge: An efficient distribution method can provide a competitive edge. Businesses who can deliver products quickly, maintain ideal inventory levels, and provide exceptional customer service through their channels frequently outperform competitors in terms of market share and profitability.

Relationship Building: Developing and maintaining connections with distributors, retailers, and other channel partners is critical. Collaboration, incentives, and support develop reciprocal trust and commitment, laying the groundwork for long-term partnerships and sustained progress.

Innovation and adaptability: Distribution networks make it easier to introduce new items or make changes in response to shifting consumer expectations. Businesses that stay tuned in to market dynamics and feedback can proactively alter their offerings and distribution tactics, keeping them ahead of competition.

Brand Representation: The way items are presented and serviced through distribution channels reflects the brand's identity and values. Maintaining consistency, quality assurance, and adherence to brand guidelines across all touchpoints strengthens brand identification, positioning, and perception in the market.

Finally, the relevance of a distribution channel goes beyond logistics; it includes strategy alignment, market reach, customer interaction, and competitive positioning.

[dinkumdoc]

The Power of Telehealth Video Conferencing

In a world marked by rapid technological advancements and an ever-evolving healthcare landscape, telehealth video conferencing has emerged as a transformative force. It bridges the gap between patients and healthcare providers, offering a convenient, efficient, and patient-centric approach to medical care. This article explores the myriad benefits and growing significance of telehealth video conferencing in the healthcare industry.

The Rise of Telehealth

Telehealth, or telemedicine, encompasses the use of technology to provide healthcare services remotely. It has seen a dramatic surge in popularity, especially in recent years, thanks to advancements in digital communication tools. Telehealth video conferencing, in particular, has been a game-changer, allowing healthcare professionals to interact with patients via high-quality video calls.

Benefits of Telehealth Video Conferencing

Accessibility: Telehealth eliminates geographical barriers, making healthcare accessible to those in remote or underserved areas. Patients can consult with specialists without the need for long-distance travel, saving time and expenses.

Convenience: Patients can schedule appointments at their convenience, reducing wait times and minimizing the need for time-consuming in-person visits. This flexibility is particularly beneficial for individuals with busy schedules or mobility issues.

Cost-Effective: Telehealth can be cost-effective for both patients and healthcare providers. Reduced overhead costs, such as office space and administrative staff, can translate to lower healthcare costs.

Continuity of Care: Telehealth allows for ongoing monitoring and follow-up appointments, enabling healthcare providers to track a patient's progress and make adjustments as needed. This is crucial for managing chronic conditions or post-surgery care.

Improved Health Outcomes: Studies have shown that telehealth can lead to improved health outcomes. Patients who engage with telehealth services are more likely to adhere to treatment plans and follow up on recommendations.

Mental Health Support: Telehealth has played a vital role in expanding access to mental health services. It provides a discreet and comfortable environment for individuals seeking therapy and counseling.

Reduced Spread of Infections: Telehealth gained significant traction during the COVID-19 pandemic as a means of reducing in-person healthcare interactions and limiting the spread of the virus. It offers a safe alternative for consultations during health crises.

Challenges and Solutions

While telehealth video conferencing holds great promise, it's not without its challenges. These include concerns about data security, the digital divide, and licensure issues for providers practicing across state lines. Nonetheless, technology and healthcare professionals are continuously working to address these challenges.

Data Security: Telehealth providers are increasingly investing in secure platforms and encryption to protect patients' sensitive health information.

Digital Divide: Efforts are being made to bridge the digital divide, ensuring that even underserved communities have access to telehealth services. Initiatives like subsidized internet access and telehealth kiosks in rural areas are being implemented.

Licensure Issues: Some states are working on reciprocity agreements, allowing healthcare professionals to practice across state lines. This will expand access to care and alleviate concerns about licensure.

Telehealth video conferencing is transforming the way healthcare is delivered. Its accessibility, cost-effectiveness, and potential to improve patient outcomes make it an invaluable tool for modern healthcare. As technology continues to advance, and regulatory and logistical challenges are addressed, telehealth will likely play an even more prominent role in the future of healthcare, ensuring that patients receive the care they need when and where they need it. The intersection of healthcare and technology has never been more promising, offering a brighter, more convenient, and connected future for all.

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Medicare Online Telehealth

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[chengyouqing]

In order to deepen the integration of production and education, consolidate the foundation of school-enterprise cooperation, and enrich and broaden students' internship and employment channels, on the afternoon of June 8, the School of Economics and Management of Chongqing City University of Science and Technology held a school-government-enterprise cooperation signing ceremony and 2023 Entrepreneur exchange and sharing session. Attending the event were Jia Rui, vice president of Chongqing City Institute of Science and Technology, Zhou Qian, deputy director of Yongchuan District Commerce Committee, Deng Chengbo, director of Yongchuan District Commerce Commission's Commerce and Logistics Service Center, Zhang Zilin, dean of the School of Economics and Management, secretary of the Party Branch of the School of Economics and Management, Deputy Dean Feng Xin and other college leaders and Chongqing Yongchuan District Commerce Committee, Chongqing Yongchuan District E-Commerce Association, Chongqing Tourism Cloud Information Technology Co., Ltd., Chongqing Dadukou District International Trade Chamber of Commerce, Yuao Group, Chongqing Shengwei Industrial Co., Ltd. The company and other 19 government enterprises. The event was presided over by Wan Neng, Deputy Secretary of the Party Branch of the School of Economics and Management.

At the beginning of the meeting, on behalf of the school, Wanneng warmly welcomed all the business representatives attending the meeting and briefly introduced the basic situation and school-running characteristics of the School of Economics and Management. He said that school-government-enterprise cooperation is an important model for establishing a close cooperative relationship between schools, governments and enterprises. By deepening school-government-enterprise cooperation, they can give full play to their respective advantages, achieve mutual benefit and win-win results, and promote the common development of both parties. It will not only help improve the level of teaching and scientific research in schools, improve the quality of personnel training, provide consulting services for government decision-making, but also inject new vitality and impetus into the development of enterprises.

At the signing ceremony, under the witness of all the participants, Vice President Jia Rui met with Yongchuan District Commerce Committee, Yongchuan E-Commerce Association Government, Chongqing Cheng Youqing Network Technology Co., Ltd., Chongqing Tourism Cloud Information Technology Co., Ltd., Chongqing Dadukou Representatives from the District International Chamber of Commerce, Guotai Junan Securities Chongqing Branch, Hengfeng Bank Chongqing Yongchuan Sub-branch and other business representatives signed agreements, presented plaques to each other, and took group photos. The signing of the two parties marks that the cooperation between the employer and the school has reached a new level, and has laid a solid foundation for the in-depth development of the relationship between the two parties.

Strengthening cooperation and exchanges with schools and implementing job internships are one of the directions for the cultivation of Chengyouqing's talents. The launch of this meeting has enhanced the communication and understanding with the college, accelerated the connection with the school and the industry, improved the complementary advantages of the school and enterprises, resource sharing, mutual benefit and reciprocity, broadened the employment channels for students, and provided a powerful source for further full and high-quality employment of our students. Assure. Orange Youqing will continue to promote school-enterprise cooperation, provide schools with practical opportunities and resource support, and realize the deep integration of school, government and enterprise, collaborative education and common development.

At the end of the meeting, Zhang Zilin, Dean of the School of Economics and Management, gave a concluding speech. He pointed out that school-government-enterprise cooperation is the key to realize the "seamless connection" between school education and enterprise's demand for talents, and it is a solid basis for the sustainable development of vocational education. Taking this "marriage" as an opportunity, they will give full play to their respective advantages, further identify their positioning, and jointly create a good environment for school-enterprise cooperation and education.

[showerthoughtsonly]

To Take Care

Crosshair x medic!reader

Synopsis: You’re the medic assigned to the Bad Batch. Crosshair’s love language and courting method seems to be acts of service, something you never seem to be able to reciprocate until one fateful mission. Essentially, three times Cross takes care of you and the one time you take care of him. 

A/N: As stated before, Crosshair just seems to be someone who belongs with a medic. I’ve also begun to see a trend in my writing in which the reader is cold and in need of blankets. Enjoy, hope you have a great week!

Warnings: Medical practices, including blood and scalpels. Plus a bit of swearing, possible bad grammar on account of upcoming midterms

Oh, Maker, was hyperspace cold. You really had not anticipated this when you had offered your services as a formal medical officer. The change in gravity from planet to planet that made your heart feel like it was beating out of your chest and your lungs exploding all at once-expected-, the awful stench of the modified omniclass cruiser that could have only come from a squad full of boys with subpar hygiene- expected-, the lack of proper medical equipment- expected-, but the sheer chill of hyperspace that even the solid walls of the ship couldn’t keep out? Not so expected.

And so, here you were, shivering on one of the racks that doubled as bunks, shivering beneath as many blankets as you could find on the ship with no bright tunnel of warm light in sight. You curled yourself around a pillow, clutching it tightly to your chest. Eyeing your pack, you seriously debated the logistics of stealing a heating pack early right now.

“Oh, you look pathetic.” Crosshair’s voice had you turning on your side to face him, twisting so you could face him, only the slightest bit pissed at his unwelcome observation.

“Hey, Cross? I know you want to engage in some hot banter with your new, attractive nat-born nurse, but inside here”, you tapped your chest, “is not a spicy person. It’s like a scoop of Breyer’s sweet cream vanilla ice cream. So goodnight, good sir.” With that, you turned back over on your side with a huff and tightly shut your eyes, squeezing the pillow tighter.

You could actually feel Crosshair’s exasperated eye roll and hear his, “sounded spicy to me” comment as his footsteps faded from the room. Somehow, miraculously, you managed to fall asleep after that encounter.

If you happened to notice that the extra blanket you found on your blanket pile was from Crosshair’s bunk when you woke up, you didn’t say anything. Though, your heart did beat a little faster when you walked into team breakfast the next morning and saw him sipping at his caf, hair amused from his own sleep.

The hot, humid climate was almost welcoming the first day of the mission. It would have been nice if crawling through vines and dodging blaster bolts all day in full medic gear and a pack hadn’t been on the agenda. Even that would have been bearable if the wildlife hadn’t consisted of bugs the size of a speeder.

You got lucky this time, though. There were little to no complications, you only got shot at once, and now-only a week later- you were back on the Havoc Marauder, making your way back to Kamino. Not even the rampant heat that you had been subjected to over the past week could have made you miss how cold the ship was.

As you were leaving the stratosphere of that horrible planet, you plopped your head down on Tech’s seat’s headrest with a not at all obnoxious for the circumstances sigh.

“Tech? Honey? Does the ship get any warmer than this?” You asked hopefully, cutting right to the chase. A futile attempt, of course, as Tech didn’t even seem to believe that your question warranted him to turn around.

“No, sorry, ad’ika. It doesn’t mess with life support and it’s bearable, so I haven’t yet seen it fit to adjust.” He answered quickly.

“Not affecting life support? Tech, my fingers are legitimately blue.” You said, holding up your hands as proof to Tech. He gently grabbed them and turned them over, clucking his tongue in dissatisfaction at what he saw.

“I seemed to forget that you run a bit colder than us. My apologies. We should have adequate supplies for you to grab a heating pack. I’d suggest tucking them into the backs of your gloves.” He offered before turning back over to the controls.

“You know,” Hunter cut in, “our blacks regulate our body temperature better than those civie clothes you wear.” He was seated to your right, one leg crossed over the other in his seat. As for his advice? Well, that was no help, really.

Your official uniform was either your dress greys or the ridiculous doctor’s scrubs that were too white and too baggy for missions such as this. The choice to wear civie clothing was really nothing but practicality on your part and honestly, you had always been one to bend the rules. It was one of the things that got you stuck with this squad. But, this also meant that the GAR hadn’t seen it fit to gift you a pair of blacks and you hadn’t had the opportunity to really fight them on it either.

“This is true. For the duration of time for which we are suspended in hyperspace, it would be wise for one of us to lend you a pair. At least until you can procure your own that fit on Kamino.” Tech offered.

It took all of thirty seconds for a pair of blacks to nail you in the head after that. The impact didn’t hurt, but the shock of the impact had you jolting forward. You scooped up the blacks and turned around in one fluid motion to see Crosshair zipping up his bag with a very neutral face. Wrecker was chuckling to his other side.

“Cross, I think my blacks may fit her a little better. I’m a bit more her size.” Hunter mumbled. Too cold to really give a damn, you turned around to quickly shuck off your top in favor of the blacks. The boys all politely averted their gaze slightly as you pulled the blacks on and flopped into your normal seat, curling up into a protective ball to conserve heat.

“Well, Hunter, it doesn’t really seem like she cares, does it?” Crosshair snarked back. You were too busy tucking your chilly nose into the oversized material and folding your knees into the inside of the shirt to notice the appreciative once over the sniper gave you, but that didn’t necessarily mean that the other boys missed it.

You did, however, need to pretend that you didn’t see the meaningful look Tech and Hunter shared from the two front seats. Even as Wrecker was chuckling, you pretended to be too indulged in folding your sleeves over your hands to hear him or question their behavior.

The shove that Crosshair gave Wrecker was a bit harder to pretend not to see as he stomped back to the racks, presumably to clean his weapon after that rather humid environment.

For whatever reason, there was a substantial amount of time scheduled for Kamino after that. Perhaps to restock on weapons, perhaps the tides of war just decided to wane for that week and a half. All you knew was that that damn insufferable planet was rainy as all hell and a giant pain in the ass.

The dreary forecast didn’t seem to bother the native inhabitants as it did the humans living there and that reflected in its infrastructure. As per your usual medical duties, you lent a helping hand in the infirmary during your little unofficial leave, which wouldn’t be so bad on it’s own, if the huge gaping, uncovered bridge wasn’t the only way to get there from the barracks.

You had lucked out on previous days, only managing to get sprinkled on as you sprinted with your pack over the bridge. The technology had been nice in lending you a helping hand in predicting the rain so you could adjust your schedule, something that seemed to minutely amuse the Kaminoans and clones alike in the ward.

Today it had been absolutely pouring all day though, and judging by the look of the predicted forecast, it wouldn’t clear up until about tomorrow afternoon. You glanced out the window with a sigh as you tended to your last patient for the day, a nice soldier who went by the name of Mods who had managed to strain an ACL in training.

“I don’t suppose that any of the other nat-born officers have left an umbrella in the med ward that I could borrow?” You asked Mods as you packed up your stuff for the day. He chuckled at your misery and shook his head with a sheepish smile.

“I don’t think so, ma’am. Even if they did, I wouldn’t be surprised if the kaminii disposed of it. I don’t even think they know what an umbrella is.” He answered.

You suppressed yet another exasperated sigh in favor of patting Mod’s shoulder. “Well, I guess it wouldn’t have done much good in that wind out there anyways. Would probably turn the thing inside out.” You said, staring out the window with a dreadful feeling settling on your shoulders. The rain had been tossed against the building so hard that it had filled the infirmary with a steady buzz all day, even over the chatter of the troopers and doctors.

There had been a steady headache building up all day on account of the bright, fluorescent lights of the infirmary and that monotonous sound of rain pounding against the window and you could feel it getting so much worse at just the thought of running out into the storm. 

“Good luck, ma’am. Please don’t get blown over the side of the bridge.” Mods said politely, cuddling up warmly to his stiff pillow, looking rather satisfied at the fact that he didn’t have to move yet, let alone go outside.

“I’m not as light as an umbrella, soldier.” You gruffed, leaning over to give his hair one last good ruffle before making your way over to the exit. Nodding to the supervisor to alert them to your departure, you quickly made your way down the hallway that would take you to that bridge.

With a deep breath to steady yourself at the doors, you pressed the button that would open the doors and broke into a dead sprint.

The rain was so, so much colder than you thought it was going to be and the first gust of wind to hit you nearly knocked you over, despite what you had said to Mods. Little needle-like pricks erupted over your entire body, save for your feet which were protected by some rather hearty boots, and the water almost immediately waterlogged your scrubs. You cursed the stiffness of your joints that came with the chill, not that it was audible over the roar of the waves, wind and rain, and pressed onwards.

Your breath was coming out in frantic panting by the time that you had reached the other end, burning up your throat and chest, and you had to resist the urge to absolutely collapse on the cold concrete floor, in a pathetic sopping wet puddle. Instead, you pressed your forearms into the wall, folding your forehead onto them and squeezing your eyes shut until they readjusted to the harsh fluorescent lighting.

“Come on, you can stand up, civvie.” You audibly groaned at Crosshair’s drawl and slumped further into the wall in response to his words, violently shivering from the air conditioning units above you. Your head throbbed harshly at the sound and your throat felt like you had swallowed fire. 

“Don’t want to. Joints won’t work.” You said after a moment to collect yourself, finally opening your eyes to see water dripping from your hair and scrubs to join the already substantial puddle forming at your feet. With another dramatic, halfhearted noise, you wrung out your scrubs and flopped back against the wall, welling your eyes shut to keep the tears from forming.

“Can’t help you if you don’t push off that wall now, sweets. Come on, I know you can do it.” Crosshair urged from somewhere behind you. For some reason, that made it all the more worse and small tears tracked down your cheeks to join the puddle at your feet. Thinking back to how you would collapse in sobs in your mother’s arms after keeping everything all together all day when you were younger, you admonished yourself internally.

“‘M cold and miserable, Cross. Want to be left alone.” You mumbled, bringing up your collar to scrub at your tears, hoping that you would be wet enough that they wouldn’t even be noticeable.

“You can be alone after you’ve taken a shower and have a change of clothes. You look like a wet tooka right now.” He responded, audibly closer. You could pinpoint the barest hint of concern in his tone. Finally, you slowly pushed off your arms to face him.

The sight of Crosshair, attempting to stand nonchalantly and unconcerned with a rather large, fluffy towel in his arms, almost had you bawling like a baby. Instead, you sniffled weakly and tucked your arms into a tight cross against your chest, shivering.

“There you go. Knew you could do it, good girl.” He wrapped that fluffy towel around your shoulders, pressing a comfortable hand into the small of your back to urge you forward towards the barracks. His words put your face aflame and you tucked your nose yet again, into something that he had handed over to you. The towel was ridiculously fluffy and suspiciously clean-smelling.

“Cross?” You leaned into his side and felt his hand move from the small of your back to your side, clutching you closer and supporting a bit more of your weight. He hummed a noncommittal noise to let you know he was listening, while staring down the few soldiers that happened to be in the hallway passing you. “Thank you.” Your said, attempting to cover the small sniffles that warned of an incoming crying session.

“Don’t mention it. We take care of each other.” He said simply, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Those words broke the dam of tears and your sniffles grew more pronounced as tears tracked down your face openly. Crosshair caught sight of you from the side of his gaze as he steered you into the very off-smelling barracks and frowned starkly.

“Hey now. No tears, it’s alright.” He tried to reassure, quickly closing the door and moving his hand to the top of your head to gently rub nimble fingers through your soaked hair. “We’ll get you into a nice shower and you’ll feel all better.” Crosshair said.

Without even thinking, you folded yourself into his arms, pressing your cheek and nose to his chest, mumbling small “thank you’s” between little gasping sobs. His arms were slow to come down, as if he didn’t quite know he was allowed, but once they wrapped around you, the grip came close to crushing.

After a couple of seconds, he was slowly walking you back to the refresher, grabbing your little shower caddy from beside your set-up cot in the corner on the way. He bustled you into the shower and left, closing the door softly behind himself after setting a soft change of clothes on the counter.

No one was in the barracks when you returned, but your cot had shifted across the room to rest beside his bunk, a nest of pillows and blankets resting carefully arranged atop it. Your holopad was resting on a desk set up near the head of the cot and when you opened it, it opened straight to your favorite film.

Cross walked into the barracks fifteen minutes later with the rest of the boys and set a little boxed up dinner from the mess hall on your lap without a word. He settled into a seat by Tech’s project afterwards and didn’t say a word to you for the rest of the night, opting to let his brothers check over you in concerned, hushed tones and to give you small, concerned looks.

You both ignored the events of that night, moving on and proceeding as normal as possible for the next standard week, save for the shared glances that flipped your stomach upside down. Your chance to thank him came up on the next assignment.

The small campaign to retrieve information in a covert operation had been blown when the boys got a little bit too big for their britches and alerted an entire base as to their position. As standard operating procedure, you had been perched in a tree, far enough from the action - including Crosshair’s sniper nest- that you weren’t in any immediate danger, but close enough that you could communicate and watch them through your scopes.

The minute the mission had gone south, you had dropped from your perch, breaking into yet another dead sprint back to the ship. Luckily enough, you hadn’t encountered any patrols, though you were ready to, with your DC-17 out and finger on the safety. Once you were on the ship, your job was simple; ready it for a quick escape and set up your little medic corner to deal with the injuries that were being reported to you in real time through your comm.

Your heart nearly stopped when Crosshair was reported as hit by Tech and your hands dropped a bottle of bacta when Cross’ grumbly voice reported it as non-life-threatening, followed by a slew of curses. Wrecker gave a boisterous laugh at the profanity and a little quip at Crosshair’s slip up that had you snapping slightly.  

“Ready for us, civvie?” Hunter’s voice echoed in your ear through your little headset. At your affirmation, he ordered you to start up the engines. No less than sixty seconds later, all four men crashed into the ship and Tech had taken your place at the helm. Adrenaline was still pumping in your head as you found Cross near your pack, trying to get off a shoulder pauldron that was still smoking.

“Hey, hey, hey. My job, Cross.” You smacked at his hand and unbuckled the pauldron gently, taking care not to aggravate anything as you worked. Crosshair plopped down, clenching his hands so hard that you worried that you would have to deal with hand wounds after this as the pauldron peeled back, resulting in the smell of burnt skin that was so heady that you could hear Hunter hiss from the front.

The material of his blacks hadn't held up well, the blast had melted some of the material directly into his skin. Carefully, you pinched the material and slid your scalpel through it, taking care so it would not tug. After cutting off a section, you inserted a numbing agent and could visibly view the effects as Crosshair slumped forward and hands unclenched slightly.

“Any other substantial injuries, Sarg?” You called towards the front as you gently worked the cloth out of the wound, occasionally forced to dig with the scalpel. Luckily, the blaster had immediately cauterized the wound with the heat, but every time you tugged something loose, blood began to flow. The gloves on your hands were slowly getting coated and you called Wrecker to grab a wet towel.

“Nothing we can’t take care of ourselves. Just a few bumps and bruises.” Hunter said, already working on removing his own armor. He placed the datastick in front of Tech, who took it without a glance and tucked it away somewhere.

“Good. How you doing, Cross?” You turned your attention to your main patient at the moment. A glance down told you that he hadn’t drawn blood through his gloves, something that you mentally praised him for. His eyes were still fixated on a wall past you and he occasionally let out small hisses through his teeth.

Slowly, his eyes swung over to meet yours and he managed a grimace. “Might feel a bit better if a pretty nurse kissed it better.” He said without his normal snark. You smiled and shook your head, squeezing his non-hit shoulder through the gaps in his armor. Carefully, you pressed gauze down after spreading a thick spray of bacta over the wound and tied it around his shoulder. As you quelled the urge to call Tech over to kiss it better as you knew he used to serve as emergency nurse on the team before you, a better idea sprang forth.

Slowly, you leaned forward, pressing a gentle smooch over the bandages while watching for his reaction from below your lashes. A mildly surprised look replaced the one of pain as he froze. A pretty shade of pink spread across his cheeks and he went back to staring at the wall.

You giggled and stood up, grabbing your blanket from your bunk to wrap around his shoulders softly. He gave you a bewildered look at the gentle movements, but made no move to remove the blanket. His gears were visibly turning and you could feel the rest of the squad’s interested stares bore into your back.

“Thanks.” He finally mumbled.

“We take care of our own.” You answered softly, leaning forward to grace his forehead with a gentle kiss. He grabbed your wrist and gently pulled you down to sit next to him, leaning into your side ever so slightly.

“I’ve never gotten a “get better” kiss!” Wrecker yelled from the front.

“You haven’t gotten shot since I’ve joined.” You answered simply, reveling in the press of Cross’ thigh against your own.

“If you get shot, you better hope it kills you.” Cross mumbled from your side, lifting the blanket to tuck you in as well, spurred on by his brother’s comment. You took that as a sign that he was feeling better and leaned a bit further in, ignoring the smell of blaster ozone and sweaty armor.

Nobody commented on the blanket-sharing, as if it had been the most expected thing in the universe, as Tech pushed the ship into hyperdrive. The longer the bickering continued, the further Crosshair folded into you, until you told both of them off, which had Wrecker pouting in the corner like a scorned child and Crosshair sitting smug with your arm slung protectively around him.

The ship settled in for the flight back, armor was taken off, boys settled in for sleep, and you ended up not moving, settling against some pillows on the rack with Cross sitting pretty and folded on his side to protect the injured arm. He beckoned you closer until he was able to slip an arm around the pillow and settle your nose against the neckline of his blacks.

“Thank you.” He mumbled into your hair, barely audible over the hum of the hyperspace engine.

“We take care of each other.” You mumbled back. His only response was the slightest brush of a kiss, pressed to the side of your temple.

[race-week]

Paddocks Power Couple? We’re too Ordinary.

Times article - here in full.

Susie and Toto Wolff are the power couple of motorsport, although mention it to them and Susie will grimace and explain why she hates that label.

“It sounds so corny,” she says. “This idea that we’re a power couple, I don’t see it. We have struggles that normal couples have of managing family logistics, especially with our jobs involving so much travel.

“We support each other massively. Obviously there has been success along the way, which we’re not just proud of but grateful for. So no, I don’t relate to this power couple tag.”

They certainly have achieved success. Toto is in charge of Mercedes, who have won the driver and manufacturer championships in Formula One for the past seven years and are in contention to make it eight this season. The 49-year-old Austrian oversees all Mercedes’ motorsport programmes, including Venturi Racing in Formula E (FE), which Susie, a 38-year-old Scot, is in charge of. A few weeks ago they found themselves at the FE season finale in Berlin, both covered in champagne with reasons to celebrate.

Nyck de Vries had just won the drivers’ championship for Mercedes, while Norman Nato had won the race for Venturi and was joined on the podium by Susie, who took over the reins in 2018 and has turned around the team’s fortunes. It was a double celebration for Venturi as their other driver, Edoardo Mortara, finished second in the championship. There was no big party, however. They had promised their four-year-old son, Jack, that they would be home that night and he had been allowed to stay up late to wait for their arrival. “We’re not really good at celebrations,” Toto says. “For us what we do is just to be there for each other. That evening, flying back to Jack who was waiting in his pyjamas and then we had a late dinner.

“Though, wait, maybe if I tell you about my alcohol consumption the other day,” Toto says as he lets out a big laugh, and who could blame him for allowing himself a day off?

They are speaking while on holiday in Sardinia, where they have managed to find a week to spend together as a family. The final FE race fell in the middle of the F1 summer break and Jack was sent to stay with his grandparents in Scotland while the couple both worked. They have a rule that Jack is not allowed at the track when they are working.

This is because they think that it is unfair on Jack and the staff, who travel so much and cannot bring their own families to races. You get the sense that their style of management is as similar as their sense of humour.

The interview is conducted over video but their camera is turned off, which Susie explains is the result of her pale Scottish skin now being the colour of a lobster. Her husband joins the conversation a minute later and jokingly disagrees with the lobster comparison, saying her skin resembles the Austrian flag, courtesy of the tan lines from her swimsuit. This makes the man from Vienna and his wife laugh a lot.

The pair continue to bounce off each other throughout the interview, something that comes from their ten years of marriage. Toto is also quick to praise his wife’s talent as a team principal and says that he would happily work for her one day.

“I would work for her immediately,” Toto says. “If she comes up with a good project and she pays me well and I can have a share of the business, yeah, I will do it in a heartbeat. And I mean it seriously.”

The feeling, though, is not reciprocated and Susie is adamant that she would maintain her independence. “For me it was a conscious decision not to work for Toto, because as his wife it would have been seen as nepotism; also I had to stand on my own two feet,” Susie says. “I had to find my own project.

“So that’s why I went off to find my own challenge. But when I was discussing it with Toto, this idea of maybe doing something in Formula E or becoming team principal, he said, ‘Go for it, absolutely go for it.’ ”

Jack was only one when she took the job, but starts school next month in Monaco, to where they have recently relocated from Switzerland. They live down the road from Lewis Hamilton. The Mercedes driver has already been over for dinner and plays with Jack, even giving him one of his helmets.

“Jack asked the other day when [the next] race is, as he realised there hadn’t been one for a while,” Susie says. “I told him how many sleeps away it was and he said, ‘OK, because I’m thinking that maybe I’m going to give Lewis my helmet.’ I said no to him and explained Lewis had given him his helmet and you don’t have to give it back.”

Most children are in awe of the best drivers, which explains Jack’s disappointment upon discovering that his dad does not actually drive the cars. “I say I’m going to my race cars, and then he can relate to that, to the race cars,” Toto says. “Until like, one year ago, he thought that I was actually driving the car. So that came a little bit as a disappointment that I wasn’t.”

He is impressed, though, to know that his mum used to race. Susie became the first woman in 20 years to take part in an F1 weekend when she drove during free practice at the 2014 British Grand Prix. She was a development driver for Williams, which is how she met Toto, who was an investor in the team before he moved to Mercedes in 2013.

With F1’s second half of the season packed full of races, the Wolffs are enjoying the last day of their holiday and preparing to go to the beach.

With two parents who are such big names in motorsport, it seems likely that their son will follow them into it. But for now it is time for the one thing that they have made clear they both prioritise over anything else: their family.