#technical maintenance engineer

[prpowerengineers]

Best Electrical Operations & Maintenance Services Tamil Nadu

PR Power Engineers is a Power Operations and Maintenance service that provides the top best operations and maintenance services to energy assets across generation technologies. Best Power Operations and Maintenance services are essential to making sure that your project is under regulations, along with having safety and emergency procedures in place. With dedicated Expert engineering in Tamilnadu, we operate & maintain all possible power plants, process industries, and substation equipment on a 24 X 7 basis. 

Our services more visit - https://www.prpowerengineers.com/operation-maintenance/

[withuitservice]

Why Dubai Businesses Need To Partner With a Professional Website Development Company

In the digitally-first world of today, a good website is something that a business can't afford not to have any more. The city of Dubai is known as one of the global innovation hubs and is the home of thousands of businesses competing to receive attention in such a busy market. So, to stand out from the crowd and maintain an effective online presence, there is a need to collaborate with a professional Website Development Company in Dubai. Here are several reasons why the businesses of Dubai should do this.

1. Expertise and Innovation at one's Fingertips

The skilled teams of designers, developers, and digital strategists man the professional website development companies in Dubai. Keeping themselves updated with the latest technologies and best practices prevalent within the industry are all their pursuits. The accessibility of such expertise means having a website which is visually attractive yet functionally adequate, user-friendly as well as technologically state-of-the-art. While digitalizing your presence, one would find all that brought into play by deploying AI-driven chatbots and responsive designs.

2. Custom Websites for Local and International Readers

Dubai companies service diverse audiences, both locally and in other parts of the globe. A professional website development service will therefore understand the characteristics of the Dubai market-place, including cultural sensitiveness, consumer preferences, among others. They can always come up with customized websites responding to your target audience effectively, ensuring a seamless flow of user experience that causes engagement and conversion.

3. UX or better User Experience

User experience determines the success of a website. A website which is not designed well will lead to frustration from visitors, who then leave, causing a higher bounce rate and missed opportunities for sales. Professional developers emphasize intuitive navigation, fast loading pages, and mobile-friendliness of the designs. These together make for a great user journey which keeps visitors engaging and likely to take the desired action such as purchasing or contacting your business.

4. Search Engine Optimization (SEO)

However beautiful your website might look, it is worthless if nobody can find it. Web Development Company in Dubai  always factor in SEO best practice when developing, such as optimization of page speeds and meta tags, ensuring that your website is mobile-friendly and also clean coding. They are constantly improving your search engine ranking. More visibility brings more organic traffic or leads and sales.

5. Cost-Effective in the Long Run

A well-developed website minimizes the risk of technical issues, reduces maintenance costs, and ensures scalability as your business grows. Additionally, a professional website helps generate higher returns by attracting and retaining customers more effectively.

6. Focus on Core Business Activities

When outsourcing Web Development Company in UAE needs, you have more time to focus on core business activities. Professional companies handle everything from the initial design and development stages of a website through maintenance and updates, thus providing one with more time and resources to devote to important matters like customer service, marketing, and business expansion.

7. Support and Maintenance

Websites need to update and maintain themselves regularly. Otherwise, they get outdated and insecure. A professional website development company keeps providing support to solve problems, implement updates, and keep your website running perfectly. This proactive approach may avoid downtime and keep running your website smoothly, with a seamless experience for the users.

8. Competitive Advantage

Competition in the market is at its peak here in Dubai, and therefore, designing a professional website for yourself will keep you miles ahead of the competition. Well-performance of the website lends an impression of your business and brand with respectability and professionalism to your customer who tends to associate them. With this, your position further gets stabilized by strengthening their trust on your self.

Conclusion

In terms of succeeding in the currently trending digital world, a company of Dubai would need to enter partnership with a professional website development agency. Starting from providing solutions tailor-suited according to the client's business needs to improving the customer's experience and providing post-launch support so that you lead the market, these professional website development agencies are quite the backbone of your thriving business. This investment in professional website development will help you have a good standing online but also in generating long-term growth and profits.

[priyasinghi]

Exploring the Different Sizes and Thicknesses of Precut Shims

This article explains Precut shims are thin, flat pieces of material, typically metal, that are pre-manufactured to specific dimensions and ready for immediate use. Unlike custom shims that require on-site cutting, precut shims are designed for convenience and precision, ensuring that you can quickly and easily fill gaps, level components, or adjust alignments in various applications.

Key Features of Precut Shims:

Precision: Manufactured to exact dimensions, providing consistent results.

Material Options: Available in various materials, including stainless steel, brass, and aluminum.

Ease of Use: Ready to use right out of the package, saving time on the job.

It further explains some applications of various sizes and thicknesses of precut shims like Automotive Industry, Construction, Manufacturing, Aerospace.

It also explains some benefits of precut shims that make them a preferred choice in many industries:

Time-Saving:

Precut shims are ready to use, eliminating the need for on-site cutting and reducing downtime.

Consistency:

Manufactured to precise specifications, precut shims offer consistent quality and performance, ensuring uniform results across projects.

Versatility:

Available in various sizes, thicknesses, and materials, precut shims can be used in a wide range of applications, from automotive to construction.

Cost-Effective:

By reducing the need for custom fabrication and minimizing waste, precut shims can save you money in the long run.

Precision:

The accuracy of precut shims ensures that your components fit together perfectly, reducing wear and tear and extending the life of your equipment.

Overall understanding the different sizes and thicknesses of precut shims is crucial for selecting the right one for your project. Whether you're aligning machinery, leveling a structure, or fine-tuning a precision component, choosing the right precut shim can make all the difference.

Take your time to measure the gap accurately, consider the load requirements, and select a shim sheet that meets your specific needs. With the right precut shim, you can achieve a precise fit, improve the longevity of your equipment, and ensure the success of your project.

[jobsnotices]

New Job Vacancy at Neuro Hospital Bansbari - 2081

New Job Vacancy at Neuro Hospital Bansbari – 2081 for Hospital Engineer, Hospital Maintenance In-charge, Maintenance Technician. Interested and qualified candidates can apply by July 24, 2024. CAREER OPPORTUNITY New Job Vacancy at Neuro Hospital Bansbari – 2081 Neuro Hospital Bansbari, a state-of-the-art neuro-specialty hospital, is looking for the following positions: 1. Post: Hospital…

[mythalism]

i know everyone is really excited for the oblivion remake because i was too. oblivion was the first real video game i ever played when i was a kid, and is literally the reason i am a gamer today, but BDS has called for a microsoft boycott, and that includes anything made by bethesda.

this isn't just a "oh they have some obscure business partnerships in isr*el" or "oh they donate to this or that lobby" sort of boycott either, although those are important too. my tone is not meant to be flippant about them, but rather i want to emphasize the gravity of how microsoft directly and deliberately contributes to the palestinian death toll daily, in a way that is uniquely cruel and complicit.

microsoft has had a $35 million dollar contract with the isr*eli military since 2002. they provide cloud storage for surveillance data of gazan civillians, and an artificial intelligence program called a "mass assassination factory" to assist in planning and targeting their attacks, many of which are on civilians or involve mass civilian casualties.

microsoft's service agreements with the isr*eli military also includes the CPU responsible for the military's tech infrastructure, military intelligence units that develop spy technology used against palestinians and lebanese, the maintenance of the palestinian population registry that tracks and (illegally) limits the movement of palestinains in the west bank and gaza, their air force targeting database, and much more. they work closely with isr*eli military intelligence agencies on surveillance systems used to monitor palestians, provide specialized consulting, technical and engineering support, hosts training software for the IOF, provide financial support to organizations based in the illegally occupied west bank, and have repeatedly invested in isr*eli start ups specializing in war technology.

in 2020, internal and external pressure forced microsoft to pull out of its 74 million dollar investment in an isr*eli company that violated international law due to its use of facial recognition technology for military surveillance.

in 2021, microsoft signed a new, 3-year contract with the isr*eli ministry of defense worth $133 million dollars. the isr*eli military is microsoft's second largest military customer. the first? the united states.

you can read more (w/ sources) about microsoft's complicity here.

BDS asks us to boycott microsoft products whenever possible.

microsoft is directly complicit in countless isr*eli war crimes, and the money you provide them will further proliferate this violence. i know the oblivion remake was exciting, but please, consider the lives of palestinians above your own nostalgia. no one is free until everyone is free.

[d3marine]

Yacht Electrical Systems Maintenance for Keeping your Yacht Alive

Although megayacht owners and yacht engineers may be knowledgeable, they are not licensed to work as the ship's electricians. Owners frequently hire yacht repair firms to handle work on their electrical systems. 

A detailed knowledge of the vessel's electrical systems enables the yacht repair and maintenance business to identify and address minor faults before they become more serious ones. Therefore, regular preventative maintenance of the yacht's electrical systems will keep it operating at its best. 

Regular equipment inspections, even if there are no visible indicators of malfunction or wear and tear, are part of preventive maintenance. Vulnerabilities in systems, materials, and equipment are also taken into account. The technical and mechanical staff aboard yachts schedule routine maintenance tasks to prevent costly damages. They have a good maintenance schedule in place as well.

In particular, the following systems are focused upon for preventive maintenance:

Alarms, monitoring systems

Lights, lighting systems

Circuit breakers, switchboards

Generators, motors

READ MORE

[daylighted]

ㅤ ㅤㅤmy boy's a mechanic! . . . charlie baker.

────────────────────────────────────────────

you knew nothing about cars. not a thing. you put the key in the ignition, the engine started, and that was about it. being an only child, your dad thought that he'd make your life easier by never letting you struggle. that was how he ended up doing all of your mechanic work, sometimes even pumping your gas for you.

sure, it was nice; being spoiled always was. but the downsides came quickly when your parents were out of town, and your car spluttered to a stop on the side of the road.

couldn't call your dad, not wanting to stress him out. couldn't call your mom, because she'd tell your dad, and of course they would have come home to help you, but how awful would it be to be the sole reason their mini vacation was ruined?

so you called charlie. charlie was incredible self-sufficient; knew how to cook, worked maintenance on his family's cars, could fix most plumbing and technical issues around his house. all-in-all, he was a perfect choice to call in your troubles.

you stood outside in the blazing summer heat, the hood of your car propped open, and you staring inside at the engine and the mechanics, seeing a lot and understanding none of it.

"right, so you see the gas cap?" charlie's voice scratches through the receiver and into your ear. "open it, like you're fillin' your tank."

your arms cross over your chest, a little whine falling out of your mouth. "charlie, i have plenty of gas. i'm not going over there. it's somethin' with the engine or... something."

"mhm," charlie hums and clears his throat, "go to the side of the car, baby."

you bristle, slamming the hood of the car shut with your freed hand. "so, what, you want me to just look in there and see how full of gas my car definitely is?"

"i want you to look in there and make sure it's gas." he's always been patient with you, but it was clear that he had siblings, from the way it came so easily to talk back to you. "from what you're sayin', with the terrible grindin' noises and the splutters, could have been siphoned and replaced."

"hm."

charlie snorts. there's rustling on his end, and then his voice is back and clear. "hm. don't give me attitude, baby, i'll leave you on the side of the road."

the growl in your throat is entirely made up of the aggression starting to build inside of you. "you leave me on the side of the road, charlie baker, we're breaking up."

"no," charlie says, drawling the word out, and there's more scratchy sounds, like he's running the phone cord beneath his shirt and rustling it. "--you're brea'ing up. where r'you?"

"leaving the city. rural backroads or something." well, this was just great. car was maybe out of gas, engine was maybe shot, and you were without cell signal on the side of the road. you whine all over again. "charlie."

charlie sighs. "m'comin', okay? lemme grab s'tools and--" he cuts out, and then the line drops. you flip your phone shut and throw it in the open window of your car in fury. it wasn't his fault. none of this was charlie's fault. but you were definitely allowed to be angry when you were stuck on the side of the road for god knew how long.

the answer was twelve minutes. you sit in your driver's seat, watching the time tick by on the clock of your radio, and twelve minutes later you see the rusty outline of charlie's truck roll up behind you.

"supposed to have your hazards on when you're pulled off like this," he says immediately upon his arrival, and then he presses a kiss to your forehead. "hi baby."

your mouth twists into a devastated pout. "don't be sweet with me when you tried to tell me this was all because i'm out of gas."

his lips twitch, and he reaches up with the hand not holding a toolbox to adjust the brim of his red baseball cap. "'course it's not out of gas. your tire blew."

"what?" your shock is audible, leaning half out of the driver's side window to look at your two tires. sure enough, the back driver's side one was flat. charlie's dimples poke into his cheeks in his innocent grin. "why didn't you say that?"

"why didn't you say that?" charlie shoots back, bending down to drop the toolbox into the grass. "i can't see your tires over a phone, baby."

your eyes roll again, and charlie laughs. "i'll get it all taken care of, honey." he circles around to your trunk, pushing it open. "aren't you so glad now that i made you get that spare tire 'stead of ice cream a few weeks ago?"

"no." your voice is grumbly, punctuated by the pout of your mouth. "it was at least eighty bucks more than a vanilla cone with sprinkles, no cherry."

charlie gives you a look, but his eyes glimmer all the same. "i should make you change this, since you wanna have an attitude about my graciousness."

he lugs the tire out of your trunk, rolling it over to rest against the backdoor. "no, you know what?" he continues, strong arms crossing over his broad chest. "i'll teach you. come n' dirty up that dress, baby."

as much as you want to protest, it was thoughtful of him, to not coddle you like your father spent the entirety of your life doing. having eleven siblings couldn't have been easy, but it'd turned charlie into an expert on how to deal with the likes of you.

so you watch him change out your tires, explaining each step along the way, making you dirty up your hands ( and your dress ) to show him that you were absorbing his instructions.

and when charlie circles around your car to turn it on, check if the system was reading the tire pressure right or whatever it was that he'd said, you can hear it from your perch against the door. the ding of the low fuel indicator.

charlie breaks into a cackle. "go ahead and tell me again how full of gas your car is?"

"shut up," you grumble, tossing a wad of ripped out grass at him.

"more like my baby's full of shit, i think."

you lunge forward to push at his shoulder with a laugh, and charlie takes the time to grab your wrist and tug you into his lap. his foot hooks underneath the car door to shut it behind you, his other hand reaching backwards to flip the hazards on. it was the right thing to do, after all, even though the car was fine now.

they didn't need someone rolling up next to them with charlie's hands up the skirt of your dress.

────────────────────────────────────────────

this one's to u @starzify who dared me to make more. and to u, u, u, and u, my fellow charlie baker lovebots 🙂‍↕ @deansbeer, @titsout4jackles, & @ultravi0lence14

[finelinefae]

the aviator [pilot!harry x teacher!yn]

synopsis: It’s the 1950s. Harry is the best pilot on the Air Force base and y/n is a teacher at a nursery.

word count: 8.5k

contains: fluff, flirting, opposites attract, bad boy/good girl dynamic, Harry has a southern accent, alcohol, smoking, allusions to childhood trauma

This is part 1 of a new series that will probably have 3-ish parts !!

. . .

Offutt Air Force Base, situated in Omaha, Nebraska, housed thousands of civilians working in or connected to the military.  People living in the nearby town would often hear the loud plane engines as they take off and land on the runway. They’d look out the windows of their home and see spitfires piloted by men undergoing training, executing missions, or just having a good time, even when they technically weren’t given permission. 

“Wah Hooo!” The spitfire trembled as it finally landed on solid ground. Harry braced himself for the landing, pushing himself back against his seat to stop himself from jolting around. He did his best to hide his smile and remain nonchalant as he heard the familiar voices yelp in excitement as he landed the aircraft. 

He removed his helmet and pushed the canopy of the cockpit open, leaping down and getting familiar with feeling the solid ground beneath his feet after being in the air. Two figures ran up to him, flailing their arms and screeching in excitement, “Tha’s what I’m talking about!” Harry opened his arms, unable to stop himself from laughing the two men almost knocked him over as they joined in a group hug. 

“You flew her like a champ, H. Never seen anything like that in my life.” Harry looked into two sets of eyes an identical colour to his own. 

Standing in front of him were his two brothers, Sonny and George. All three of them were pilots in the military and had been since they left school to sign up after the War. There wasn’t too much age difference between them which was probably one of the reasons the brothers were so close.  Harry was the oldest, just over a year senior to George, who happened to be taller despite being the middle child, and Sonny was the youngest.

“Yeah well, she still needs some work. One of her engine cylinders is faulty.” The three of them walked side by side towards the maintenance shed. Despite their differences in height, anyone would assume the three brothers were triplets from how similar they looked. Most people on base knew them for their signature sea-glass green eyes and their brown hair. 

“Oh I’ll go and tell Ruddy, he might still be here.” Sonny ran ahead 

“Oh and Sonny,” Harry called for his younger brother, “Good job.” Harry winked at his younger brother, referring to his work on the plane he had just flown. In response, Sonny straightened his shoulders and smiled feeling proud after receiving a compliment from his older brother. 

Harry and George both lit a cigarette each, pausing outside the door to the warehouse to smoke together. “I opened up a letter this morning from Ma.” George exhaled, smoke escaping past his lips. 

Harry tried not to show his annoyance, “Wha’d she say?” He grumbled.

“She misses us… All of us and she wants us to stop by, come visit for dinner one day maybe.” George explained.

“Is she still with that old bastard?” Harry looked up at his younger brother.

George nodded, “Last time I heard.”

“Then we’re not going, none of us are.” Harry thought back to the last time he had allowed himself and his siblings to visit his mother. It was going well in the beginning, she’d cooked them up a roast pork and engaged in conversation, until their Father came home. It wasn’t long into their visit before they left the house and Sonny had gone home with a black eye whilst Harry had to get his hand stitched up at a hospital on the journey back.

Harry had grown up in Dallas, Texas, in a tacky old house that barely stood upright just on the outside of town. Whilst his Father was out working on a ranch somewhere and getting pissed up every night, Harry would spend most of his days keeping the house together whilst tending to his younger siblings. His mother was often somewhere in the house - nobody knew exactly what she was doing, since she wasn’t exactly all there half the time - but she was there.

Every visit they made back home was a reminder as to why they had entered the military in the first place. Whenever their mother would send them a letter, it was either because she wanted something or wanted them to come home so she could ask for that same something in person. The last time Harry had bought his siblings home was the first time in years. He thought his mother would be different yet he had no idea why - she was still letting that old man walk around as if he was the one who kept the house from falling. 

“Sonny and I agreed you’re picking up Elise from nursery by the way,” George smirked, chucking his cigarette on the ground and putting it out with his foot. 

“You and Sonny agreed that?” Harry frowned, receiving a nod from his brother, “I’ve been flying all day and y’ still want me to go pick up the baby?”

George clapped his older brother on the shoulder, “We’ve both got to help out in the warehouse this evening and besides, you’re Offutt's best pilot, I think you can handle picking up a two-year-old on the way home.” 

Harry didn’t have time to argue with his brother as he stepped into the warehouse. He let out a deep sigh and took one puff of his cigarette before throwing it to the ground. He put his flight cap on his head to cover his messy hair and straightened his aviator jacket, walking towards the nursery. 

. . .

“How have you found your first day Y/N?” Midge, one of the other nursery workers asked as they stood at the sink together to wash up some of the paint pots a few of the kids had been playing with in the afternoon. 

“It’s been wonderful, Midge.” Y/N grinned. Although she was tired, she also felt ecstatic to finally be working again after months of searching for a new job.  She had always been good with children thanks to her older sister having a kid of her own for her to babysit now and then. So when the opportunity arose to work a well-paying job at a nursery on the military base, she couldn’t pass it up. They’d even offer her free accommodation and discounted food for groceries which was perfect considering she didn’t have much of any of those things when she was living alone.

“I expect most of the kids will be getting picked up soon,” Midge glanced at the clock, “Everyone will be returning from work.”

Y/N hadn’t expected pick up time at the nursery to be so busy but fathers and mothers bustled in to pick up their children to take them home all at once. Once the majority of the kids had been picked up, Y/N glanced around to see the mess that had been left from the day that she’d have to clean up by herself. Her shoulders dropped as she landed on a small figure, realising she wasn’t completely alone yet. 

“Elise, what are you doing?” Y/N smiled at the tiny girl playing in the corner, she was picking up picture books and flicking through them as if she were actually reading them. Y/N crouched down in front of the small toddler, “Are you enjoying those?” 

Elise just grinned, picking something up with her small fingers and trying to put it in her mouth. Her brown, curly ringlets were no longer in uneven bunches like they had been this morning and her overalls were covered in food and paint stains. Y/N picked up the two-year-old to place in her lap, “Shall we read something before your dad comes to get you?” Elise babbled a reply. 

Halfway through their fifth book, Elise was near enough asleep on Y/N’s lap. It had already been an hour since all of the other children went home and it wouldn’t be long before the sun would set. Y/N carefully picked Elise up so her head was on her shoulder and it was comfy enough to sleep as she stepped towards the telephone to see if Elise’s father was coming to pick her up. 

As her hand went to pick up the telephone, a voice stopped her, “Hello?” It was deep and southern and husky like he had just smoked a cigarette or two, “I’m here to pick up Elise.” 

Y/N turned around, and her breath caught in her throat as she spotted a tall figure leaning casually against the door frame. He wore a brown leather aviator jacket and grey trousers, with his flight cap tucked under his arm. His piercing green eyes, similar to Elise's, met hers, framed by brown curly hair. An unlit cigarette dangled from his lips. 

Y/N had never seen anyone like him in her entire life. 

“Y-yes,” She cleared her throat and forced her eyes to look away from his intense gaze. She stood and walked over to where he stood by the door with Elise in his arms, “You must be Elise’s father.” 

“M her brother,” He corrected. 

“Excuse me?” Y/N wasn’t sure if she heard him correctly, too busy gawking at him to actually pay attention. 

“M Elise’s brother, one out of three of her brothers to be exact.” He repeated, his eyes glancing at the sleeping girl Y/N was holding. 

“O-oh,” She blushed, “My bad, you look so similar I thought you were her father.”

“Easy mistake,” Harry smirked, “Would you like me to take her from you?” 

“Yes, of course,” Y/N gently removed Elise from her and passed her to Harry.

“There we go,” He cooed as Elise whimpered at the sudden movement, “There’s m’ little Elise.” 

Y/N thought her ovaries might explode as she watched the pilot interact with the small girl in his arms, making sure she was comfortable enough so she could remain asleep. “Are you new here ma’am?” Harry spoke his focus now back on Y/N.

“Yes actually, today’s my first day here,” She explained. 

“No wonder, I ain’t ever seen y’ around the place. How’re you liking it so far?” 

“I’ve only been here a couple of days but it’s been nice. Working here at the nursery has been lovely too,” 

“Yeah?” Harry’s lips curled, “I hope this one hasn’t been giving y’ much trouble. She can be a little devil with my younger brothers.” 

Y/N immediately shook her head, “No, she’s been lovely honestly. Think I spent most of the day with Elise out of all the other children.” 

Y/N noticed how Harry focused on her face as she spoke to him, every now and then his eyes would dart to her lips and then back up to meet her eyes, “Y got any friends here?” 

She paused, “Any friends?” 

“Yeah, you know,” He half smiled, it felt almost flirty but maybe Y/N was just imagining it, “People y’ like to hang out with.”

“Uh yeah, I share a house with a few of the girls who work in various places around the base. I get along with most of them and the ladies who work here at the nursery too.” Y/N explained, cringing at how awkward she was and how she’d probably be replaying this conversation back later only to die of embarrassment of all the things she said. 

“Y’ know there’s a dance down at the community centre this Friday, y’ should come, oh and invite some of those friends of yours too.” 

“Oh I don’t know, I think I’m working this Friday and-” 

“A lot of my buddies who I fly with go there sometimes - a good time they said. It might be a good chance to meet some of the people here,” He shrugged, “Could offer y’ a dance or two if you’d like.” 

Y/N wondered if all this was really happening right now or if she was just so tired that she was hallucinating, “O-okay,”

Harry grinned, a dimple carving into his cheek, “Well alright then,”

“Alright then,” Y/N tried to keep her smile at bay as she took it as his queue to leave. She kept the door open so he could easily step out as he walked backwards with Elise in his arms and his eyes still on Y/N even as he said nothing. 

“So I’ll see y’ at the dance?” 

“Maybe,” Y/N shrugged, even though she had already decided she was most definitely going to the dance. 

“Alright, maybe I’ll see y’ at the dance then,” Harry responded with a light, amused chuckle. 

Y/N watched as he turned his back and began to walk down the dirt road until he stopped briefly and spun around, “I didn’t catch y’name by the way,” He called out to her.

Y/N cupped her mouth, “It’s Y/N,”

“Y/N,” He said the name like he was testing how it sounded, “M Harry. Hey, I better see y’ at that dance Y/N, I don’t handle rejection all that well.” Y/N couldn’t help but giggle.

“I can believe that,” She yelled back.

“I’d say goodbye but I wanna see y’ at that dance so I’ll say goodnight instead.” Harry said with a casual salute before turning and continuing down the road.

Y/N shut the door and leaned against it, clutching her hands over her chest in complete disbelief. Her sister had warned her the pilots on the base would be young men near enough her own age and that she ought to be careful hanging around them. However, her sister hadn’t warned her that a man like Harry would stumble over to her workplace to pick up his sister and invite her to a dance on Friday night.

Y/N quickly cleaned up the nursery, shoving things into boxes and wiping down the tables, before grabbing her coat and running down the road to her house.

On every street on the housing estate, there was a row of houses that all looked the same but were owned by different types of people. Some had big families all living under one roof, others were men who lived alone. Y/N’s house was the first house on the street. It was a traditionally designed home with a pitched roof, a small front porch and symmetrical windows. She shared it with three other girls who all worked different jobs across the Air Force base. 

The sun had already set by the time she entered the house. All the lights were turned on and the gentle music of Buddy Holly sounded from the living room. Y/N kicked off her heels and hung up her coat, walking to the living room where Patsy and Molly were lounging on the couch. Molly had Patsy’s foot in her lap as she painted her toenails a wine red. 

Y/N collapsed on the couch next to Molly, “What’s wrong? Work not go so well?” Molly inquired.

“No,” Y/N huffed, resting her head on Molly’s shoulder, “It was wonderful.”

“Well, what’s got you so blue Peggy Sue,” Patsy questioned, her tone playful. She was reading a magazine and smoking a cigarette. 

“A man came into work after everybody left to pick up one of the girls, Elise.” Y/N clarified. 

“You mean Elise Styles?” Molly asked. 

Y/N sat up, “Yes, you know her?” 

“Just about every woman on this base knows her. She’s the Styles’ little sister.” Molly explained, “We’ve all had to babysit her at least once for those brothers.” 

“Yeah and neither of us will be doing it again,” Patsy piped up, as if reminding Molly. 

“Oh, you must know Harry then,” Molly paused, shoving Patsy’s foot off of her lap and turning to face Y/N.

“Is he the man you’re sighing over?” Patsy’s magazine fell to the floor as she too stopped to listen. 

Y/N furrowed her brows, confused by their reaction, “Y-yes, what about him?”

“What about him?” Molly stood, grabbing a cigarette from the packet on the coffee table and lighting it up, “Y/N you oughta be careful around all three of those brothers but especially Harry.”

“What do you mean?” Y/N glanced at Patsy who nodded in agreement with Molly. 

“That boy is not good news. He’s Offutt’s best pilot and he thinks that gives him the right to go around sniffing out every woman that steps foot onto this base.” Y/N frowns, watching as Molly begins to pace back and forth, “He didn’t ask you to go out with him did he?”

“Well he asked me to the dance on Friday. The one at the community centre.” 

“Oh, I bet he did!’ Molly exclaimed, “Listen Y/N, I’m telling you this because I don’t want any trouble for you. That boy is no good, he’s slept with half the ladies residing here and even the wives too I bet! He asked Patsy to go out to dinner with him one night and stood her up to go see another woman.”

Y/N glanced at Patsy, “He was flirting with two different women inbetween the moment he asked and our date a week later.” She added. 

“That’s right. Y/N darlin’, we shoulda warned y’ before y’ stepped foot out of this house this morning. Those Styles brothers will mess you around and leave y’ lonely for sport. You’re too nice to deserve all of that.” 

Y/N's shoulders slumped, “But he seemed so… nice.” Y/N pictured Harry with Elise and how gentle he was with her. 

“He’s not a bad person Y/N but when it comes to women, there’s no guessing what that man turns into.”

“Everyone’s heard plenty of things about why they came here too. If you ask me, his home wasn’t exactly a perfect example to him.” Patsy said.

“Well, whatever reason, best stay away from him.” Molly finished. 

Y/N heaved a sigh, “So I shouldn’t go to the dance on Friday?”

“Oh no, we’ll go to the dance. Harry’s not the only fine, young pilot on base I’ll tell you that.” Molly smirked and Patsy cheered with excitement at the thought of going out Friday night. 

Y/N attempted to smile, but she couldn't shake off the sadness upon realising that the man she had met earlier in the evening wasn't as kind as she had initially believed. Molly fell back onto the couch next to her and put an arm around her shoulders, “Cheer up sweet cheeks. I’m sure plenty of men will want to take you out after this dance.” 

Y/N managed a weak smile, grateful for Molly's comforting presence. "Thanks, Molly," she murmured, leaning into her friend's embrace.

"Yeah, plenty of fish in the sea, darlin'. You'll find one that's worth your time." Patsy chimed in.

Feeling a bit more reassured by her friends' words, Y/N nodded. "You're right. I can’t let one bad apple ruin my night."

Molly squeezed her shoulder affectionately. "That's the spirit! Now let's focus on having a great time at the dance. We can tell you about some of the other fellas who live here too."

With her friends' support, Y/N felt an inkling of hope return. She might have been disappointed by one man, but she wasn't about to let it dampen her spirits for the rest of the evening. She was glad she told her friends about her interaction with Harry and now she was left with one rule stitched into the back of her mind.

Keep away from Harry Styles. 

. . .

The night sky was clear enough to see the stars glittering against the pitch-black backdrop. A soft, gentle breeze flowed through the air as Harry lay back on the swinging chair on the front porch of the house he shared with his three brothers. 

This was his favourite time of day when it was completely silent and the air was cool and crisp. He didn’t like the nights so much when he was living with his parents. After midnight, or sometimes just before, his father would come in through the backdoor stinking the place up with alcohol and waking everyone up with his nightly rampages. 

Nowadays, the nighttime was the most relaxing part of the day and Harry savoured every second of it. He often finds himself sat out on the porch after putting Elise to bed. He’d smoke a cigarette or two, and maybe play his guitar a little bit. 

Tonight felt a little different though. Whilst his brothers were upstairs trying to put a fussy Elise to bed after she’d napped when he brought her home from nursery, he came outside and could think of nothing but the woman he found holding his little sister in her arms. 

Harry knew everyone on base the same way they knew him. He recognised faces easily and had at least one brief encounter with everyone he met in passing. However, the face he had met for the first time this evening was unfamiliar and new. 

Her features were delicate and angelic, with large doe eyes that held a hint of shyness to them. A soft, rosy blush adorned her cheeks and her lips were full and plush that he couldn’t seem to take his eyes off of them. Her movements were gentle and her voice was airy and sweet, Harry thought of her stuttering and the way she’d blush whenever she spoke. He hadn’t seen anything like her in his life - he wasn’t a religious or spiritual person but, at that moment, he was pretty sure an angel had landed right in front of his very eyes. 

Even her name sounded as though it came from some kind of mythical text - one full of beauty and purity, love and light. 

Harry wasn’t the purist of men, far from it. He had slept in the beds of women he couldn’t remember the name of and indulged in his fair share of reckless behaviour. But in the presence of Y/N, he felt an unfamiliar stirring within him, a sense of longing tugging at his heartstrings. He didn’t know what it was and he wasn’t so sure he was ready to find out yet. 

He lit a cigarette with a matchstick and exhaled into the air, tendrils of smoke dancing above him. The sound of footsteps thudding inside of the house as someone walked downstairs, broke the silence he had been basking in. 

The door swung open and George stepped out, “Finally managed to get Elise to settle down though it took a whole round of nursery rhymes. Sonny’s still up there now, he’s afraid she’ll wake up again if he stops singing.” George took a cigarette from the pack Harry had in his pocket, “I thought you told those ladies at the nursery not to let her nap before she comes home.” 

“I did,” Harry spoke, his voice husky. 

“What? They didn’t listen to y’?” George chuckled. 

“There’s a new worker. I’ll let her know next time I see her.” Harry hadn’t wanted to tell Y/N that Elise wasn’t allowed to sleep so late in the afternoon because it was harder to get her to go to bed at night. He didn’t seem to have the heart to as he watched her hold the small girl in her arms. 

George scoffed, “A new worker? Is she a knockout at least?” 

Harry didn’t reply, instead asking,  “What do y’ think about the three of us going to the dance at the Community Centre on Friday?” 

George laughed until he realised his brother wasn’t laughing with him, “You’re serious?” 

The door swung open again and out stepped Sonny, “I swear if that baby wakes up, you two can sit in there and dance circles around her singing Miss Muffet for all I care. I ain’t doing that again.” He wiped his brow with the back of his hand, “Can y’ pass me a cigarette, George?” 

George handed the cigarette to Sonny, “Hey Sonny, Harry wants to know if we’ll go to the dance at the Community Centre this Friday.”

Sonny chuckled but that quickly went away, “Oh shit really?”

“Yeah tha’s what I thought,” George said.

“You got your eye on someone Harry?” Sonny spoke, “Is it that girl from the med centre? She sure is something.”

Harry sat up and turned to face his two brothers, “No, it’s not that,” He lied, “Jus’ thought we could go do something other than sit around and drink at the bar.” 

“But the dance?” Sonny quirked a brow, “You hate dances.”

“I never said that,” Harry said, even though he always made it known how much he hated the dances they held every Friday night. 

“No, I definitely think I remember y’ saying dances were for people who wanted to get laid but couldn’t,” George spoke, backing up his younger brother who nodded in agreement. 

“Alright,” Harry held his hands up, “Alright maybe I did say that. C’mon, what are you, Gunther and Francis? Sit down the pair of you.” They followed their older brother's orders, sitting on the seats opposite him. “Maybe there is a girl.” He sighed.

“Oh yeah?” Sonny smirked.

“Yeah, little shit,” Harry chuckled, “So if you could both do me a favour and get yourselves cleaned up Friday night because we’re going to a shitty dance and I won’t be having either of y’ covered in grease and soot.”

“Okay, alright, H.” George took a puff of his cigarette, “But you’re paying for drinks after.”  Harry shook his head, unable to suppress a chuckle.

. . .

Y/N stood in front of her bedroom mirror when Friday night rolled around. She had left the nursery in a hurry, needing as much time as possible to get ready for the dance at the Community Centre. She had been wracked with nerves all week, knowing there was a high chance she would see Harry there and she’d have to do her best to ignore him like Molly had told her to. 

She had picked out her outfit the night before. It was one of her best dresses- a lovely duck egg blue, satin fabric with a fitted bodice and a sweetheart neckline that showed off her decolletage. From the waist, the skirt flowed down in a full, flared A-line silhouette, gently swaying with every step. She wore white low heels on her feet and decided to carry a small purse with her too. 

Most of her time in the evening was spent on her hair and makeup. Y/N had almost used an entire can of hairspray to ensure her hair would stay intact the whole night. Molly had even given her a French manicure the night before and she spent the whole day at the nursery trying her best not to ruin her perfectly shaped nails. 

It had been a long time since she had put this much effort into going somewhere and it was all for a measly dance. There would be many other pretty girls who had spent more or less time on dressing up who probably had a better chance of catching the eye of a man than Y/N did. Yet she wasn’t hoping for the attention of just any man. 

Even though Molly and Patsy had warned her of Harry’s nature, she couldn’t stop thinking about Harry. The way his eyes sparkled when he smiled and the sound of his voice as he spoke in that deep, southern drawl. Every time she thought of going to the dance, he would appear in her mind. Maybe she didn’t necessarily want anything from him but she wanted to at least catch his eye enough to make a lasting impression on him. 

Y/N applied a little more powder to her nose and did one final check in the mirror. She straightened her shoulders, “This will have to do,” She muttered, grabbing her purse. 

Patsy and Molly were already downstairs drinking margaritas and listening to Frank Sinatra on the record player. “Oh and another one comes to join us,” Molly grinned, wearing a navy, spotty dress with a red belt wrapped around her small waist. 

“What took you so long?” Patsy grinned, pouring a drink in a martini glass and handing it to Y/N.

“O-oh no thank you, I don’t drink.” Y/N shook her head and forced a smile out of politeness.

“What? You don’t?” Patsy replied like she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. 

“Oh c’mon! Just one little sip - liquid courage and all that.” Molly took the glass from Patsy to give to Y/N who forced herself to take it from her. She held the glass to her lips, taking one small sip and feeling a tiny burn from the alcohol. 

“Good right?” Molly smirked, lighting a cigarette and holding the packet open to Y/N. 

“No thank you, I don’t smoke either.” Y/N laughs nervously. 

“Fair enough,” Molly shrugs, passing the pack over to Patsy who happily takes one for herself. 

Y/N places her drink on the table, knowing she won’t be touching it again. “We’ll be heading out in a moment, we’re just waiting on one more.” As if she could hear them talking about her, footsteps thumped down the stairs and into the living room.

Y/N’s eyes widened when her eyes landed on the tall, blonde standing in the doorway. She was wearing a black dress with a neckline that showed off her bust and a tight waistline that accentuated her curves. The strands of her golden, blonde hair were tied back into a high ponytail with her fringe perfectly curled. She wore red lipstick on her plump lips which made the blue in her eyes even brighter than they already were. 

“You’ve been in your room for hours, Nancy,” Patsy whined. 

“Yes well, I don’t just plan on getting wasted tonight Patsy.” Nancy retorted. 

Nancy was Y/N's other housemate, but Y/N didn't know her as well as she knew Patsy and Molly. Even though they lived together, Nancy seemed a bit distant compared to the latter two, who were friendly and nice. Nancy would smile politely, but she didn't say much else. Oftentimes, Y/N would get a strange feeling about Nancy like how she would make little comments that seemed to be jabs masked by forced politeness or how sometimes it felt like Nancy enjoyed pointing out Y/N's mistakes, like how she did her laundry or what groceries she bought. She wasn’t sure what she had done to upset Nancy but Y/N hoped it was just her over-thinking that made her believe she was this way and that tonight would allow them to get to know each other a little better. 

Nancy’s eyes fell on Y/N and looked her up and down, “Nice dress,” She said, her voice dripping with saccharine sweetness.

“Thank you,” Y/N offered her a smile but received nothing in return. 

“Alright ladies,” Molly stubbed her cigarette in the ashtray, “Let’s go catch us a few good men.”

“A few?” Patsy giggled.

“You’re right, I think a few is a little too much for this place.” Molly huffed and led the way out of the house and towards the community centre. 

Y/N could hear the live music coming from the centre as they walked down the street. Patsy and Molly were stumbling ahead, arms linked together as they laughed side by side. Y/N tried not to laugh at her friends as she walked alongside Nancy. 

“You planning on hooking up with anybody tonight?” Nancy’s voice broke the silence between them. 

“No I don’t think so,” Y/N replies. 

Nancy scoffs, “These dances are mostly for that you know, better prepare yourself when a fella tries to talk to you.”

“You think they’ll want to?” Y/N asked, hopeful.

Nancy glanced at her, “I’m sure they’ll snatch you right up those pilot boys.”

Y/N blushes, “Is there anyone you’ve got your eyes on tonight Nancy?” She liked this, conversing with Nancy. She hoped this would be the start of breaking the ice between them and maybe they could become friends eventually, or at least build acquaintances. 

Nancy smirks, “Only one.” She said nothing after that. 

The girls walked into the community centre which was already full of people from all over the airbase. A live band was playing Elvis Presley songs, the music blaring into Y/N’s ears once they stepped inside. “Any of you girls want a drink-”

“Molly is that Everett?” Patsy pointed to a man in the corner, talking to a woman. 

Molly’s face scrunched up, “I guess he’s back from Italy.”

Nancy interrupted the conversation, her eyes darting across the room like she was searching for somebody, “You girls grab something to drink, I’m just going to use the bathroom.”

“Who’s Everett?” Y/N asked Patsy as they walked towards the drinks table. 

“A guy Molly had a thing with last year,” Patsy explained.

“Yeah until he told me he was going to Italy for a year and wanted to break things off so he could get laid by an Italian woman.” Molly ranted, leading the girls to the drinks table. 

A bowl of punch resided in the centre of the table, Molly grabbed the ladle and poured them all a drink. Y/N took a sip and allowed her eyes to scan the room. Couples were dancing in the centre whilst others spoke in groups off to the side.  

Eventually, her eyes caught sight of a group of men walking through the door. Each one of them was dressed in a similar uniform, a navy blue tailored jacket and matching, fitted trousers. She watched as an entire group of them continued to flood in through the doors until the last man stepped through. 

He was wearing the same uniform as the others and his hair was gelled back with one curl falling in front of his forehead, unlike the messy curls she had seen when they first met. Y/N couldn’t help but stare as he weaved through the crowd and interacted with people as he walked past them. Everyone seemed to know him from the looks of it. He exuded confidence and bravado, people’s faces lighting up whenever he stopped to talk to them.

“Patsy?” One of the boys spoke. 

“Here we go,” Molly muttered, forcing a smile. 

A man with features that looked similar to the man Y/N had been eyeing, walked up to them with a taller man following him. “Hi Sonny,” Patsy greeted. 

“Y’ sure know how to make yourself look good when you want to,” He winked, eyeing her up and down.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Patsy put both her hands on her waist. 

“You know what I mean,” Sonny argued, realising he might have said something to offend her even though he had no idea what that might be. 

“Hi,” The taller man behind him spoke. Y/N looked up and was met with familiar green eyes except they were a little bit lighter than the ones she had seen. 

“Hi,” Y/N blushed.

“I’m George. Are you new here? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you around.” He wondered, pointing his thumb over his shoulder to the crowd as he spoke. 

“Y-Yes, I arrived recently actually. I just started working at the nursery.” She clarified. 

“Oh, the nursery! You must know my little sister Elise.”  Y/N’s lips turned upwards thinking of the little girl she had been spending so much time with over the last few days. Since her first day, Elise had constantly been wanting her attention whether it was to nap or play with things or read books. “You must have met my older brother then.”

“Older brother?” Y/N didn’t have enough time to register as George glanced around the room and called out his brother’s name. 

“Harry, c’mere!” He called. 

Harry’s head turned towards them in the middle of his conversation. His eyes landed on his brother until they found hers. He offered a small smile and began to walk towards them with a drink already in his hand, “This is one of the new workers at Elise’s nursery.” George introduced even though he didn’t really need to. 

“Yes, we’ve already met,” Harry said and Y/N thought she might melt into a puddle on the floor at the sound of his voice. “Hi there,”

“Hello,” Y/N smiled, shyly.

“So you came?” He teased. 

“I did.” She laughed, lightly. 

“And these are y’ friends?” He looked to Patsy and Molly who were bickering with Sonny who seemed to have said something else to offend them, George now joining in on the argument as he let Harry and Y/N talk. 

“Yeah, they’re my friends,” Y/N said, feeling nervous under his gaze. But despite her nerves, she couldn't deny the thrill of being the focus of his attention.

“Good to know,” He murmured, “Y come here with anyone else?” 

"Um, no, just the girls from my house," Y/N stuttered, feeling a rush of nerves as Harry's gaze lingered on her. "I don't know that many people. Other than the girls I live with and the ones from the nursery, who are all lovely, by the way," she added, her words tumbling out in a nervous ramble.

Harry grinned, his eyes twinkling with amusement at her flustered state. "You know me too," he stated, his tone playful as he leaned in closer. 

Y/N gulped the air she breathed just as the lights in the centre dimmed. The fast-paced music began to slow down and couples gathered to the dance floor to slow dance together. “Y wanna dance with me Y/N?” Harry asked. 

“I-I’m not very good at it,” Y/N smiled sheepishly, her cheeks tinged with a delicate blush. It was impossible to resist the charm that radiated from him.

He held out the palm of his hand and Y/N’s lips parted as she glanced down at it, “S just swaying tha’s all. Think y’ can do that?” 

Y/N hesitantly nodded, her pulse quickening as Harry's long fingers gently wrapped around her wrist. A tingling sensation danced across her skin, sending shivers down her spine and causing goosebumps to rise in response to his touch. He led her to the centre of the dancefloor and turned around so they were face to face. Harry took both of Y/N's hands in his own, his touch sending electric currents coursing through her veins. With a tender yet confident touch, he trailed his fingers down her arms, causing her breath to hitch in her throat. As his hands settled at her waist, Y/N's breath turned shallow, her heart racing as the music floated through the air. 

She was stiff at first, unable to relax until he leant forward and whispered, “Relax birdy,” She felt his breath against her neck as he spoke. He squeezed her waist a little and she dropped her shoulders, trying her best to loosen up under the circumstances. 

“Birdy?” Y/N spoke, questioning the new nickname.

“I spotted y’ as soon as I stepped through the door. Your dress is blue ‘n it reminded me of the bluebirds I used to see back home whenever I’d go up in the mountains with my grandpa.” He explained. 

“I didn’t know you’d seen me.”

“I searched for y’ as soon as I walked in. I only came because of you, if I couldn’t find y’ I’d probably just turn back and go to a bar or something.” He chuckled and Y/N laughed with him.

“No Elise?” She questioned, unable to stop herself from asking about the little girl she had become fond of. 

“Elise is staying with the family next door. Little rascal tried to get ketchup on my uniform,” He rolled his eyes, “I got a free house if that’s what you’re implying though.”

Y/N’s face turned beat red, “N-No that’s not what I’m implying at all.”

“M just messin’” Harry grinned, cheekily.

Y/N relaxed, composing herself and trying to pull herself together, “I’ve heard things about you, you know.”

“Oh yeah?” Harry smirked, “What things?”

“Just things.” Y/N felt his fingertips press her skin for a moment.

“And do you believe these things?” Harry murmured, leaning in a little closer.

Y/N looked him in the eye, trying to see if she could read him without having to ask him a thousand questions, “I don’t know yet.” 

Harry opened his mouth to reply but was stopped by the sudden change in music and the lights turning on above them. People cheered as they gathered back into big groups and began dancing again. Harry bit back a grin, shaking his head, “Y wanna come outside with me?” He asked, shouting over the loud music. Y/N bit her lip and nodded, taking his outstretched hand and allowing him to pull her through the crowd of people. 

The air was cold once they stepped outside. Harry led her over to a small bench nearby where fewer people were gathered. He pulled out a cigarette and offered her the pack, “Oh no thank you, I don’t smoke.” She declined, politely. 

Harry smiled around his cigarette, his gaze lingering on Y/N for a beat or two as he casually slipped the pack into the pocket of his trousers. The air between them was filled with a comfortable silence, broken only by the soft sound of music drifting from inside the centre. Sensing Y/N's slight shiver, Harry swiftly removed his jacket and draped it over her shoulders without saying a word.

"But you'll get cold," Y/N protested, her eyes widening in surprise.

"Don't y’ worry about me. I don't get cold," Harry quipped, a mischievous twinkle in his eye as he shrugged off her concern. His white t-shirt revealed toned arms adorned with a few tattoos littering his tanned skin. 

As Harry tilted his head back to blow smoke into the night air, Y/N couldn't help but admire the way he carried himself with effortless confidence. Gathering her courage, she decided to strike up a conversation.

"Were those your brothers back there?" she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

"Yeah, Sonny and George," Harry confirmed with a hint of pride in his voice.

"They look so much like you," Y/N remarked, her curiosity piqued.

"Strong genes, I suppose," Harry shrugged, his tone becoming more serious as he opened up about his family background. 

"What about you? Do you have any siblings?" He inquired.

"Just an older sister and my little niece, Rosie Jean," Y/N replied, a fond smile tugging at her lips as she thought of her family.

"And your parents?" Harry pressed, his gaze intense as he studied her reaction.

"My parents are doctors, they work at a surgery in town," Y/N explained, feeling a pang of homesickness as she reminisced about her upbringing.

"And yours?" She prompted, turning the conversation back to Harry.

"M parents are nobodies," Harry's voice took on a sombre tone, clearly his family life was a sensitive topic. Sensing his discomfort, Y/N chose her next words carefully.

"What about Elise?" she asked, hoping to lighten the mood with talk of his sister.

"Elise is better off being raised by us three than being left alone in a house with batshit crazy," Harry scoffed, his protective instincts kicking in.

Feeling the weight of their conversation, Y/N searched for a way to lift Harry's spirits. "What made you want to be a pilot?" she asked, genuinely interested.

“Sonny came home wanting to sign up for cadet training after they visited his school. He came home running through the doors with a flyer in his hand and told everybody he was going into the army. I told him ‘No brother of mine is going anywhere that requires trench foot and guns.’ He didn’t talk to me for a week after that. It wasn’t until I found an advertisement where y’ could train to fly planes when I decided I was gonna make a better life for myself and my siblings. It just so happened Sonny and George wouldn’t let me go at it alone.” He inhaled his cigarette before tossing it to the ground. 

As Harry shared the story of how he and his brothers found their way to Offutt, Y/N couldn't help but admire his determination. She found herself drawn to him even more, captivated by his strength and the way he always included his brother’s in everything he spoke about. 

A comfortable silence settled between them. Y/N's heart skipped a beat as Harry smoothly slid his hand next to hers, their fingers intertwining effortlessly. His touch sent a jolt of electricity through her. 

"Have I told y’ how beautiful y’look tonight?" Harry's voice was soft, his gaze locking with hers in a way that made her heart race.

Y/N blushed at his compliment, unable to tear her eyes away from his. "You're lying," she protested, feeling a surge of warmth spread through her cheeks.

"I swear it," Harry insisted, his hand reaching up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "Swear on m’ life, birdy."

Y/N's heart fluttered at the nickname, a secret thrill running through her as she turned to face him. His eyes held a tenderness that melted her defences, and she found herself smiling back at him.

"Hi, birdy," Harry murmured, a dimple appearing on his cheek as he leaned in closer.

"Hi, Harry," Y/N whispered, her voice barely above a breath as she savoured the moment.

Harry's shoulders dropped and a soft smile tugged at the corners of his lips, though he seemed to be fighting to contain it. “I can’t lie to y’ birdy, I can’t stop thinking about kissing you,” Y/N's breath caught in her throat, her heart racing at his words. “I was gonna lie and tell y’ I’d been thinking about it since I saw you tonight but… quite honestly, I think I've been dreaming of y’ since I met y’ the other day.” 

Y/N didn’t know what to say, she felt as though someone had put a zipper straight across her mouth and she couldn’t get it to open. All she could feel was every muscle in her body beating against her skin as though they were trying to force her to surge forward and kiss him herself. “Y-You can if you want,” She stuttered, cheeks pink.

Harry laughed, “What about if you want? Can’t go kissin’ y’ if y’ don’t want it birdy.” 

“I do want it,” Y/N nodded. 

“Yeah?” He spoke but it came out more like a whisper. 

“Yeah.” Y/N gulped, feeling nervous. 

Harry didn’t hesitate once the word had left her mouth. He leaned forward, closing the distance between them. Their lips met in a gentle, tentative kiss, soft and exploratory. Y/N's heart fluttered as she melted into the warmth of Harry's embrace, her senses flooded with the taste of his lips and the scent of his cedarwood cologne.

Time seemed to stand still as they lost themselves in the sweetness of the moment, their kisses deepening with each passing second. Harry's arms wrapped around Y/N, pulling her as close to him as possible. 

In that instant, everything else faded away—the noise of the party, the chill of the night air—leaving only the two of them, lost in the heat of their first kiss. 

They were both breathless as they pulled apart. Y/N’s eyes fluttered open to find Harry already looking at her, his eyes filled with emotion and intense desire. She noticed his tongue poke out to lick his bottom lip and she couldn’t help but giggle when she noticed the red lipstick stain she had left on his mouth from her kiss. 

“Where abouts do you live?” Harry murmured.

“Clemon Street,” Y/N spoke, her voice coming out a whisper. 

“Yeah? That’s on my way home,” He grinned. 

“Oh really?” Y/N bit back a laugh, “I thought y’ lived on Newark Street - it said so in Elise’s file.” 

Harry shrugged, “I like to go the long way round.” Y/N didn’t bother pulling him up on the fact that the two streets were on opposite ends of the housing estate. 

“Can I walk y’ home?” He asked, his fingers fiddling with the fabric of her dress. 

Y/N nodded, biting her bottom lip, “Yeah I’d like that.” 

Harry grinned, “Well alright then.”

They stood up, Y/N keeping his jacket around her shoulders since it was still cold out, “I’ve just got to go to the bathroom,” She motioned towards the community centre. 

“I’ll wait for y’ at the door,” He said, following her as they walked to the community centre side by side. Y/N walked up to the steps and opened the door, she looked over her shoulder to make sure Harry was still there- that he was real and not just someone she dreamt up.

Harry caught her eye, “M not going anywhere birdy,” he winked, “hurry up so I can walk y’ home and kiss y’ again.” 

Y/N laughed and hurried straight to the bathroom. Once inside, she closed the cubicle door behind her and sank down onto the lid of the toilet seat, a wide grin spreading across her face. Unable to contain her excitement, she let out a delighted squeal, her mind buzzing with thoughts of the moment she had just shared. 

She pulled out the pocket mirror from her bag and quickly reapplied the lipstick that had been smeared off. She fluffed up her hair with her hands and rubbed her aching cheeks from where had been smiling so much. She stood up and held Harry’s coat in her arms.  As Y/N stepped outside the community centre, she scanned the area in search of Harry, hoping to catch a glimpse of him waiting for her. Her anticipation turned to disappointment when she couldn't spot him anywhere, and her shoulders slumped slightly in resignation. Just as she was about to turn away, a figure caught her eye—a silhouette that had a striking resemblance to Harry—standing in a shadowy corner illuminated by the lights from the community centre.

Heart fluttering with excitement, Y/N smiled and took a step forward, eager to walk home with him. However, her joy quickly turned to dismay when she realised he wasn't alone.

A sudden giggle pierced the air, causing Y/N's heart to sink. Molly's warning appeared typed out in big letters at the forefront of her mind, filling her with regret and dread as she hesitated, frozen in place. With each step she took closer, the scene before her unfolded—it was Nancy, her housemate, clinging to the man she had just kissed.

I imagine George to be Callum Turner and Sonny to be Timothee Chalamet specifically from ms stevens but you can imagine whoever you’d like ! <;33

[13lunarstar]

Talents in Navamsha

The D-9 Divisional Chart, or Navamsha Chart, is the second most important chart after the Rasi or D-1 chart. It reveals our potential and certain patterns that characterise our inner world, which typically evolve over a lifetime. With the help of the Navamsha chart, we can also identify our innate talents - these are reflected in the Trikona houses (1, 5, 9) and the planets located there. Any planet placed in one of these houses indicates capabilities and talents carried over from past lives, as well as the areas of life that are naturally preferred for one's activities.

Besides planets located in Trikona houses, it is important to analyse their placement in the Rasi (D-1) Chart, too. And of course, we need to pay attention to the signs of the Trikona houses as well as their rulers.

HOUSES IN NAVAMSHA CHART DESCRIBE...

The first house - The planets in the 1st house of the Navamsha chart reveal the skills, talents, and preferences that are inherent to a person from early childhood, essentially from birth. These often manifest as unconscious abilities, yet people still identify with them on a deep level. Interestingly, individuals may not even recognise these traits as special, assuming them to be average or ordinary simply because they come so naturally.

The fifth house - The planets in the 5th house of the Namasha chart will tell about those talents, which require some personal efforts.

The ninth house -The 9th house planets in Navamsha chart reveal the true direction, skills, and talents that help a person live in harmony with the world and fulfill their life mission.

PLANETS IN NAVAMSHA TRIKONA HOUSES (1,5,9):

Sun: bestows a gift to make an impression, inspire, manage, protect, and unite. Areas where to implement these talents: business, politics, social work, medicine and healing, protection of public order

Moon: talents in pedagogy, psychology, caregiving, the arts and writing. Areas where to implement these talents: charity, social work, childcare, artistic fields, psychology (especially in roles involving or supporting women)

Mars: natural skill in management, sports, martial arts, cooking, mechanics, electrical work, and engineering. Areas where to implement these talents: business (particularly oriented toward men, such as automotive, shipping, or barbering), restaurants, maintenance services, engineering, industrial design, and architecture.

Mercury: gives sharp intellect, eloquence, and talents in public speaking, writing, acting, teaching, and commerce. Areas where to implement these talents: business, trade, accounting, education, journalism, medicine, creative and technical writing and scientific research

Jupiter: grants innate wisdom, reason, and talent for teaching, coaching, and guiding others. Areas for applying these talents: education, writing, life coaching, psychology, medicine, law, jurisprudence, and banking.

Venus: bestows a natural talent for charm, aesthetic expression, and the ability to bring beauty into the world through art, decoration, and refinement. This placement often indicates artistic gifts in painting, music, design, and performance (dance, singing, etc.) It supports success in fields related to the beauty and entertainment industries. Areas for applying these talents: arts, sewing, beauty industry, entertainment, acting, makeup, design, and businesses aimed at or involving women.

Saturn: gives wisdom beyond one's years, natural talents in self-discipline, resilience, and endurance. It grants a strong capacity for long-term planning and working within structured systems. People with Saturn in trikona (1,5,9) houses often possess a karmic affinity for supporting the elderly or those in need of stability and care. Areas for applying these talents: social work, management, work with the elderly, construction, architecture, working with metals, building materials, antiques, or anything aged and worn that requires repair, restoration, or preservation.

Rahu:grants a broad perspective, a unique and unconventional mindset, and strong abilities in learning foreign languages and adapting to new environments. It bestows talents in psychology, entertainment, and innovative thinking. Individuals with this placement often stand out for their originality and can serve as both innovators and provocateurs, challenging norms and opening new paths. Areas for applying these talents: IT, social media, advertising, psychology, esoteric studies (including astrology), innovation-driven fields.

Ketu: grants strong intuition, deep knowledge in psychology, religion, esoteric studies (including astrology). Talents in maths, programming, IT. Afflicted Ketu can give thievish tendencies. Areas for applying these talents: psychology, IT, research, esoteric studies, hairdressing (Ketu is known for cutting abilities).

[cherryblossomcowgirl]

Safe Haven Hangman part 2

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WC: 2.1k

WARNINGS: cursing; divorce; cheating; unplanned pregnancy; angst; fluff; protective! Jake; asshole! Bradley

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The last couple of months have been filled with emotions. A sense of freedom with Bradley being gone, a sense of guilt for Jake being around, and an overall feeling of confusion. Things with Jake haven’t progressed further than kisses and cuddles, and it means a lot to me that he is putting my comfort first. Healing hasn’t been linear. Some days I hate Bradley. Some days I miss him. Some days I wonder if he’s happy. It’s been radio silence since he moved. I don’t know if that’s because of him, or his girlfriend. My brain wanders back to the good days. Dancing around the house. Laughing until our stomachs hurt. The way he would always sit down at the piano after a few beers. Everything in the house is new, but somehow his ghost is still haunting every room. The lock turns and Jake walks in, “Hey Y/n, jet needed maintenance so I thought I’d drop by.” I smile, “That’s sweet.” He wraps me in his big arms and I breathe in his scent. “How’s your day?” “Eh. Cleaned up some. Did some meal prep.” He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, “What’s on your mind?” Sighing, I throw my hands up, “Everything. Honestly, everything.” He nods his head, “And that’s okay. Let yourself feel.” Tears sting my eyes and I shake my head, “I just wish I could go back and warn myself.” He pulls me in again, rubbing my back while I cry into his chest. My phone ringing pulls me back to reality. Jake looks and the muscle in his jaw twitches. I turn and see his name on the screen. Taking a deep breath, I answer, “Hello?” Bradley’s voice sounds shaky, “Hey, Y/n. How are you?” I sigh, “Bradley, what do you want?” “You used to call me B.” The hurt in his voice is evident. “Yeah, well a lot of things used to be different.” There’s a pause and he breaks the silence, “Have you gotten your mail today?” “No.” “You might want to go check it.” I walk into the front yard and find a large packet in the mailbox. Once I sit down, I rip it open. The divorce is final. The annulment was approved. A sigh of relief escapes my lips. Bradley takes a deep breath, “The last page says that our marriage never existed. Technically.” “Yes, Bradley. That’s what an annulment does. Legally, it never happened.” I can hear the tears through the phone and for some reason, I feel bad for him. Part of me wants to hold him, soothe him, just like I used to. I push that thought far away, “Is that all?” “Yeah. Well, uh, bye Y/n.” “Bye Bradley.” Jake sits beside me and I hand him the paperwork. He reads it, then scans my face, “What are you feeling right now?” I shrug, “Relieved.. angry.. sad.. free? I don’t know.” His right hand rubs my lower back and I lean on his shoulder. We sit like this for a few minutes, comfortable silence surrounding us. The feeling of understanding covering me like a warm blanket. Jake clears his throat, “I have to go in the morning. Just for a couple weeks. That’s what the jet needs maintenance for.” I look up at him, “Okay. Will you be able to email?” He shakes his head, “I’ll come straight back here. I promise.” I smile and hold him tight.

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Jakes absence is everywhere I look. I leave him messages everyday, knowing he’ll only be able to see them when he is home. When next Friday rolls around, every noise makes me look out the window. I finally hear the hum of his truck engine and run to the driveway. He hops out and I jump in his arms, “Hey, darling.” My lips crash into his. We stay like this, tangled in each other, for I don’t know how long. Finally we break apart and he follows me inside. I throw together dinner and he talks to me about the mission. I tell him about my boring weeks. Our phones light up and it’s Phoenix. Everyone is being summoned to the Hard Deck to celebrate. “Mind if I shower here? Then we can head out.” I smile, “Of course.” I set out a towel for him and start picking out my outfit. The door opens and his towel is round his waist. He sees me and whistles, “Looking good, darling.” I blush, “Right back at ya.” We get dressed, heading out before Phoenix has time to nag at us. Jake parks and turns to me, “Can we make out for a few minutes?” I smirk, “Always.” His hands are in my hair. Kissing me like he needs me more than anything. He finally pulls away, “I missed that.” “Me too.” He opens the door for me, then grabs my hand and leads me inside.

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The squad is already playing pool. Everyone greets us, smiling. Phoenix nudges me, “You look good.” “Thank you.” She leans in, “I mean it. You deserve to be happy.” The night is filled with laughs and darts and games of pool. Jake takes a break, standing beside me. His hand rests on my lower back and he leans down to my ear, “Having fun, pretty girl?” I smile, leaning into him, “Mhmm.” “How about we head home soon?” “I’d like that.” Penny rushes over to us with Maverick, worry in her eyes, “Y/n, go outside now. I am so sorry.” My brow furrows and before I can respond, I hear him, “Hangman?! What the fuck are you doing?!” Jake’s grip on me tightens, pushing me behind him. Maverick steps between my ex-husband and Jake, “Bradley, walk away.” He takes a step forward, “No, Mav. I want Hangman to tell me what the fuck he thinks he is doing with my wife.” I step out from behind Jake, whose possessive grip is still heavy on me, “Ex-wife. Why don’t you tell me what the fuck you are doing here? Where’s your baby momma?” His eyes meet mine, glassy with hurt, “My fiancée is home. I got sent here for a week long training. Thought I would come see my friends.” He glances to see the squad all standing with their arms crossed, gazes turned down to their feet. I take a step towards him, “Oh, congratulations. Did you give her my ring? Didn’t even need to change the engraving, did ya? ‘Love of my life’ isn’t very specific when it comes to you.” He leans down, “Not here. Let’s go somewhere private and talk.” I laugh, “Fuck off.” Jake pulls me back into his side and Maverick pats Bradley’s chest, “C’mon, let’s go outside.” Bradley’s brown eyes meet mine, dark and angry, “Didn’t take long for you to start fucking my ‘best friend’, huh?” I roll my eyes, “Grow up. The college girl must be rubbing off on you.” He leans in and Jake’s grip tightens, “At least I’m not married to a whore anymore.” I lean in, our noses almost touching, “Yeah, now you’re just engaged to one.. because you knocked her up.” Maverick is trying to separate us, but it isn’t working. We are locked in, glaring at each other. Bradley opens his mouth to say something else and I hit him with a right hook to the nose. It starts gushing blood and he moves towards me, but Jake grabs him. In a swift motion, he takes him to the floor and starts pounding on him. Maverick tries to break them up, but Penny shakes her head. She looks at me and I nod. I place my hand on Jake’s shoulder, “Baby? Baby please, let’s go home. I think he gets it.” Jake looks at me, his green eyes wild. He slowly stands up as Bradley grunts, blood still pouring out of his nose. Maverick picks him up as the squad circles around me, making sure I am okay. I apologize to everyone, leading Jake to the truck. He starts the engine and I look out the window, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.” He touches my face, “Hey, look at me. Don’t apologize. I am sorry that I handled it that way.” I hold his hand in mine while he drives back to my house.

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“Will you come in?” “Of course, darling.” I grab a couple of beers and meet him on the couch. After a long swig, I turn to him, “What made you jump on him like that?” “After what he called you.. I wanted to kill him..” I shake my head, “I thought you might.” He turns to me, green eyes bright, “When you told me to get off of him.. you called me something..” I giggle and lean into him, “Yeah? What about it?” “I liked it.” He plays with my hair. I take a deep breath, “When he said.. that about me.. that’s not what you think, right?” “Darling, no. Chicken is upset because he lost the best thing that ever happened to him. He has to think all this is between us is sex. Him thinking that it’s anything more is probably too painful for him.” I sit up, looking at Jake. Scanning his blonde hair, stunning eyes, breathtaking smile, and his tan and toned body. I know this means something to him. I know it always has. Just like me. “What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” “Just really thankful to have you.” He kisses my forehead, “I’ll be here as long as you’ll have me.” “I like the sound of that, baby.” His pupils dilate and he leans in. Nose to nose, our lips brush. I smile, “You gonna kiss me, baby?” Hunger takes over his eyes as his lips meet mine. We roll around on the couch, giggling and kissing and I feel the weight of the last few months lifting off of me. The knock on the door makes my blood turn ice cold.

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Jake jumps up and his whole body stiffens when he looks out the glass. I hear Maverick, “Y/n, just give him a minute. I’ll be here the whole time.” My hand searches for Jake’s, a wave of calm crashing over me, “And Jake.” There’s murmuring and Maverick responds, “Okay, Jake too.” I open the door, letting Maverick and Bradley in. Bradley scans the room, his face falling when he sees all of the new furniture and decorations. He clears his throat, “It looks so different.” I cross my arms, “It is. What do you want, Bradley?” His eyes wander down, stopping at Jake’s hand resting on my lower back. Bradley takes a breath, “I shouldn’t have done that and I apologize. When I found out I was coming here, I wanted to tell you about the engagement in person.” “Why?” His gaze drops to his feet, “Because you’ve been my best friend for the last 10 years.. you’re the first person I want to tell when something happens.” Part of me wants to comfort him and I hate it. I push that feeling deep down, “Yeah, except the affair and pregnancy. Kept that pretty close to your chest.” Jake’s grip on me tightens. Bradley’s eyes are watering. “Y/n, I didn’t mean what I said earlier.” I shake my head, “Bradley Bradshaw, I have known you for 10 fucking years. I know when you are lying. Back there? That was the truth. So don’t come into my house and try to lie to my face.” His brown eyes meet mine, “When you pulled Jake off of me… you called him…” He can’t bring himself to finish that thought. He takes a moment, “Are you two…” Jake cuts him off, “Together? Yes.” Warmth blooms in my chest. Bradley looks between us, “When we were married… Did you ever…” I scoff, “No, Bradley. And this isn’t some spiteful hookup, we’ve been seeing each other for a couple of months. My whole world shattered around me and Jake has been right here, helping pick up the pieces. I am finally feeling like ME again, so you don’t get to waltz in here and try to take that away from me.” Silence fills the room. Maverick places his hand on Bradley’s shoulder, “I think it’s time to go, bud.” Bradley takes a step towards me and Jake’s grip tightens. He notices and his face falls, “I’ll always love you, Y/n.” Tears fill my eyes, “You don’t get to say that to me.” He reaches out to touch my arm, but I pull it away. I turn into Jake’s shoulder, hoping to hide my tears. Jake clears his throat, “Out. Now.” Bradley follows Maverick out the front door, feet shuffling. Jake wraps his arms around me, “Shhh… I’m right here…” He presses a kiss to my hair and I look up at him, “Hey, Jake?” His thumb wipes a tear off of my check, “What’s up, darling?” I pause for a second, wondering if now is the time. He searches my face for a response. Before I can think any longer the words fall out, “I love you.”

[prpowerengineers]

Top Industries Electrical Operations & Maintenance Services Chennai

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[solarmorrigan]

space au neighbor au steddie

So I wasn't actually sure what a space AU is meant to entail, so I hope a little vaguely Star Trek-inspired AU is okay?? This was a challenging combination, but it was fun!

Fanfiction Trope Mashup: 22. Space AU + 11. Neighbor AU

cw: vague mentions of injury, mentions of background character death

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Lieutenant Steven Harrington transfers from the U.S.S. Nora and onto the U.S.S. Forrest about six months into the Forrest’s mission. He works in security. He can usually be found stationed somewhere on the ship, but sometimes he’s called up to go planetside.

(He’s also too pretty for Eddie to believe he’s one hundred percent human, but that’s neither here nor there.)

Eddie knows all of this because Harrington gets the previously vacant room right next door to his.

It isn’t bad, really; sometimes the sound of someone shuffling around on the other side of a wall that had previously been silent is comforting. Much as Eddie loves the hum of the ship around him—you can’t really work in engineering and not be a little enamored of the sound of the engines purring—sometimes human noise is what he craves.

(Particularly out here in the void of space. Eddie loves his job, loves working in the guts of a starship, but he wishes sometimes it didn’t come against the backdrop of an endless dark nothingness.)

Eddie doesn’t have reason to see Harrington very often during the day, but they work the same shift rotation, and they catch each other coming back to their rooms now and then at the end of a shift. They mostly exchange nods or waves, brief pleasantries if one of them is in the mood, but that’s really it.

At least, that’s really it until a few weeks in, when Eddie gets back to his room and sees Harrington still standing outside his own, mashing the buttons on the keypad and swearing quietly.

“Everything alright?” Eddie asks as he draws up at his own door.

Harrington lets out a long sigh. “Uh, yeah, just–” He shakes his head. “Apparently if you get your code wrong too many times in a row, the keypad locks you out. And you can’t get into your quarters. Which is… great.”

“You forget your code?” Eddie can’t help but ask.

“No,” Harrington snaps, then softens a little, looking sheepish, even a little embarrassed. “No, I just– sometimes the numbers get a little jumbled.”

“Ah.”

“Yeah. Anyway, I’m gonna have to go find someone from maintenance to reset this and let me in, so…”

“Nah, don’t bother. You’ve got in-built tech support right here.” Eddie gestures for Harrington to move aside and crouches down in front of the keypad to reset it; doors and security locks aren’t technically his remit, but it’s not like they’re hard. It’s the work of moments to get the keypad to unlock, and Eddie shuffles back out of the way. “Go ahead and try it now.”

Harrington steps up to the keypad and slowly punches in the six-digit code that should get him into his quarters, and this time, instead of beeping angrily and flashing red, it chirps and gives him the green light. His door slides open and Harrington sighs.

“Thank you,” Harrington says, turning a smile so bright on Eddie that he momentarily forgets how to function. “You’re a lifesaver.”

“Nah, t’weren’t nothin’,” Eddie says for some insane reason, slipping into a ridiculous accent like he does when he’s running tabletop games in the rec room with a couple of other guys from engineering.

If Harrington thinks he’s being weird, he mercifully doesn’t mention it. Instead, he sticks a hand out towards Eddie, still smiling. “I’m Steve, by the way. I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced.”

“Eddie,” Eddie says, taking the hand to shake (Steve’s hands are big, and strong, and warm, and Eddie tries not to think about it).

“It’s nice to meet you, Eddie. And not even for the obvious reasons,” Steve says, nodding towards his door.

“Yeah, you too,” Eddie says.

He then realizes that he’s still shaking Steve’s hand. He lets go, but Steve is slow to draw back. They’re quiet for a moment, both unsure how to end the encounter, before Steve lets out a little huff of a laugh.

“Well… have a good night,” he says, backing away towards his door.

“Yeah, you too,” Eddie says again, wondering where the hell all his eloquence has gone to.

With one last dorky little wave at Eddie, Steve disappears inside his room, and Eddie does the same.

They talk more, after that. Whenever their schedules coincide, they spend an extra few minutes outside their doors, learning more about each other, bit by bit. Eddie talks about why he’d joined up with a starship even though he really hates space (he’d had to get out of his small-minded hometown), and Steve talks about how he’d ended up really enjoying his work even though he’d only joined to appease his dad (captain of another ship, one Steve prays he’ll never, ever be assigned to).

Their conversations edge past five minutes, past ten, past fifteen. Eddie talks about his uncle, who taught him at least half of everything he knows about fixing things, who had encouraged him to reach for the stars. Steve talks about his best friend in the galaxy, who works up in communications and speaks “about a million languages.” He mentions that they’d met as ensigns, both stationed on the U.S.S. Butterscotch, but he doesn’t say much more than that (and Eddie won’t make him; he knows the story already. The ship might have had a ridiculous name, but the fate that had befallen it had been anything but: it had been taken over by hostiles and eventually gone down in flames. The number of survivors had been abysmal, and fact that Steve is here at all is a small miracle).

Steve learns that Eddie loves music and roleplaying games. Eddie learns that Steve has a knack for avoiding medical staff after altercations planetside and for brushing off minor-to-moderate injuries.

He’s not as good at avoiding Eddie, however, who makes a point of dragging him down to medical one evening after spotting a still-bleeding gash on Steve’s arm.

“One of these days, you’re gonna come back with something you can’t walk off,” Eddie warns him, “and I’ll be there to say I told you so.”

“Well, as long as you’re going to be there, I guess it won’t be so bad,” Steve replies, and Eddie tries not to be swayed by the flirting.

When Eddie turns out to be right, though, he doesn’t even have the heart to say I-told-you-so, which he feels a bit cheated about later.

The evening starts out so promisingly: Steve and Eddie are loitering outside their doors, Steve gravitating further and further into Eddie’s space as they talk, and Eddie is just about to pluck up the nerve to invite Steve inside when Steve’s communicator goes off.

He frowns, pulling it from his pocket to check the message, and his demeanor immediately turns serious. “I have to go,” he says, and apprehension prickles at the base of Eddie’s skull.

“Everything alright?” Eddie asks.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine.” Steve offers Eddie a brief smile. “We can pick up where we left off as soon as this is taken care of.”

Eddie wants to ask just what “this” is, but he finds out soon enough. The promising evening turns into a hellish night with too little sleep and too many hits to the machinery for comfort, under attack from some unknown, hostile force. When things finally calm down and reports start rolling in, things aren’t as bad as they could be. No casualties, minor damage to the ship, and minimal injuries. It sounds reassuring, until Eddie finds himself standing next to Steve’s bed in the infirmary.

“I’m going to be fine. Stop looking at me like that,” Steve says, even though his eyes are closed and he can’t possibly know how Eddie is looking at him.

And the thing is, Eddie knows he’s right – Steve might sound an awful lot like he’s in pain right now, but the medical tech on the ship is top of the line, and the staff is equally good. Steve will be fine, but that doesn’t give Eddie any comfort right then, realizing how lost he would feel without his and Steve’s hallway conversations every day.

How lost he would feel without Steve.

It scares him– for a moment, it scares him enough that he wants to run from it, to put a halt to things before they get too serious, before this really hurts him. But even more than that, there’s a feeling greater than the fear: one of rightness when he’s with Steve, a feeling that’s worth the risk, that’s worth holding onto.

Eddie reaches out and takes Steve’s hand where it rests on the bed.

Steve cracks his eyes open to look at Eddie.

“You know…” he says slowly. “They said I should be fine on my own by tomorrow, good to go back to my own quarters, but– I’d feel a lot better if there was someone nearby. Just in case.”

“Like someone right next door?” Eddie asks, a tease of a smile beginning to grow on his face.

“Maybe a little closer than that,” Steve says, squeezing Eddie’s hand in his own.

“I think I can do that,” Eddie says, finding that he’s prepared to do a lot of things, if it means he can keep Steve close.

[catenary-chad]

The SNCF CC 40100 (and its Nez Cassé relatives)

Thought I’d do an info/context post on these engines since a lot of the fandom doesn’t seem to know much about them.  It’s more or less implied canon that this is the engine Electra is, his replica helmet is based on SNCF 40104 specifically, complete with number plate.  Further down I also go into how I like to incorporate/interpret some of the history of these engines with the character.  

For those of you totally new to trains: SNCF is the French nationalized rail system.  The CC 40100 came out in the mid-late 60s as the first of the Nez Cassé line of locomotives, probably the most iconic French trains until the TGVs.  They were a line of express passenger/fast freight locomotives that came out between the 60s and early 90s that all had a distinct “broken” front silhouette that looks very 80s despite being first designed more than two decades before Stex came out.  

The CC 40100 was a funky, relatively experimental model designed to take four different voltages so it could travel over most of western Europe on the new, high-end Trans Europ Express services.  In both the northeast US and much of Europe, electrification was done piecemeal over several decades by different companies/nations, resulting in a patchwork of AC and DC lines running different voltages and/or frequencies, as well as both third rail and overhead wire.  Dual voltage electric engines have existed since the turn of the century, but demand for triple and even quadruple-voltage electric trains didn’t develop in Europe until the rise of the EU and border-crossing trains like the TEE that would otherwise need an engine change or use diesel power to run on multiple countries’ systems and standards.  There were a number of triple and quadruple-voltage engines and MUs developed in the 60s for this purpose, but the CC 40100 was notably stronger than many of them, to work heavier trains and due to anticipated use on mountainous lines in Switzerland.    

Technologically, the CC 40100 had DC traction motors, technological limits restricted the use of AC ones until the 80s-90s.  They ran at 1500 V DC, could also take 3000 V DC by changing motor connections, and had transformer and rectifier equipment for taking two voltages and frequencies of AC power.  Unusually, they had four pantographs, many multi-voltage engines were built to work on third rail lines and a more common setup was one or two pantographs and a “shoe” collector for third rail.  They also never ended up using their fourth 15kV 16 2/3 Hz AC voltage for German/Swiss running in regular service and it’s a little hard to find out why, I’ve heard both technical concerns with equipment getting hot or political factors. 

It made the CC 40100 relatively complicated, unreliable, and expensive to run (and the weight of the equipment is why it had six axles in a Co-Co arrangement vs the more common four—axle Bo-Bo setup).  There were some interesting features like a gas-filled vs oil-filled transformer to save weight, and corrugated stainless steel body panels like American Budd railcars. They never got used to their full potential for various political/practical reasons and the quad-voltage capability became a delicate overkill, so only ten were made. TEE also fell out of relevance into the 80s as business travelers moved to planes and the market for first-class trains declined.  They had a more limited use and service life than other Nez Cassé engines as a result, though 25-35 years is still a decent run and comparable to other TEE multi-voltage engines of the era.    As a fun bonus, one was restored and runs excursions today (40110) and there’s lots of video on youtube!  Apparently the group that runs it also has a steam engine and I can’t help but wonder how maintenance compares.  

Canon Electra accurately reflects a number of traits of these engines (though I take issue with them being picked as a representative of electric traction because they’re pretty specialized and atypical).  AC and DC are both okay by them, they almost exclusively ran first-class TEE services, and were prone to overheating and catching fire.  Not exploding though, THAT’S almost purely the domain of steam engines.  Bidding the Nationals farewell in “No Comeback” in their various languages and not having a clear country of origin also tie in well to the 40100’s intended use as a pan-European engine.  As a very fun cultural link, the Kraftwerk song “Trans Europ Express” mentions David Bowie and I can’t help but wonder if that’s why they chose this engine as a basis for Electra.  The song definitely has a similar vibe to the character, though the CC 40100s never ran the exact route mentioned in the song, since they never ran in Germany in general.  As an even more fun cultural link that was probably unintended, this song and Kraftwerk in general were really popular in early hip hop and techno circles…. which also checks out to the direction Electra took in the actual production.  

From the illustrious sources of reddit and translated youtube comments, French railfans really like these engines, even if a lot of the Anglophone internet thinks they look weird.  They have a status akin to the Concorde as a symbol of attempted European collaboration and unity.  They could also be compared to a more modern Santa Fe Super Chief, in terms of being a flashy luxury train that was popular in model/toy form.  The Nez Cassé classes in general seem to have an E/F-unit esque “iconic colorful, glamorous old engine strongly associated with a specific country” reputation on general.  “The TGV is numerically better but these are SHINIER” is a common sentiment.  They were physically loud in service between the motor whine and loud cooling fans, there’s some good cab ride footage on youtube where you can hear it.  “Diva Electra” is a lot closer to their reputation than the eerie lifeless zombie of the workshop.  There are/were eerily silent electric engines, but those with DC motors rarely were, they brake with giant resistors that get hot like a space heater or toaster and need loud, powerful cooling fans. 

So ironically, Electra’s “face” is an engine more akin to an electric, European equivalent of Greaseball culturally.  Actually very dated technologically, if anything most of their problems were because they were designed well before computers.  Hardly threatening and if anything more seen as a symbol of optimism and progress.  Which ends up reflecting a lot when it’s demonized by media from a country with infamously limited electrification progress vs mainland Europe (the more I learn about British train politics then and now the more I can’t take Stex at face value).  

OTHER NEZ CASSÉ CLASSES

These videos give a great overview (in French but have English subs)

Co-Co (larger) models:

Bo-Bo (smaller) models:

First of all, if you ever want a cheap idea for an Electra recolor OC, there was a Belgian equivalent to the CC 40100 that looks just like that.  These ones actually ran services in Germany!

I’ve joked about it before but there was also a very successful diesel Nez Cassé, the CC 72000, which is basically the French equivalent of Greaseball.  Big (by European standards) mixed traffic fast freight/passenger engine that lasted about 50 years, covering the increasingly few non-electrified lines in France.  

There were also a bunch of more typical 1-3 voltage electric Nez Casse types built for use in France and a number of other countries (Portugal, the Netherlands, Slovenia, Korea… and some failed systems in Morocco and Brazil).  Most of these worked notably well and ran for 30+ years, quite a number still run today in Slovenia, Portugal, and on some low-end French trains that haven’t been replaced by EMUs.  I would broadly describe them as very typical European-style mixed traffic engines capable of passenger or faster freight services, their role is comparable to something like a Siemens Eurosprinter or Bombardier TRAXX today.  Ironically NOT a dedicated high speed train power car and a relatively antiquated but durable and versatile style.  Locomotive-hauled trains have become increasingly uncommon in Europe in favor of EMUs with the decline in rail freight, among other factors.  People seem to really like the old loco-hauled French trains still running since they use really comfortable older coaches and are pretty cheap, lower-speed options.  

I’m prone to swapping Electra’s basis a bit to the related CC 6500 and its variants because it opens a lot of interesting history and is a more “typical” electric engine.  These were a beefier, more versatile first-gen Nez Cassé model also used on pre-TGV fast trains and later heavier freight trains.  There’s some amusing youtube videos of them pulling big gritty tanker trains with their pretty flashy looks.  They also weren’t used as long as the later smaller Bo-Bo electric models since they’re a bit overkill for most uses, EMUs have gradually taken over passenger services, freight services declined, and the Co-Co arrangement can be tougher on track.  Their freight-oriented close relatives in Slovenia are still going though!  

But they have the VERY interesting link of one (X996) being trialled by Amtrak in the late 70s as a replacement for the 40+ year old GG1s that were physically falling apart, and the freight-derived GE E60s that couldn’t manage the speeds required on the Northeast Corridor. Sources seem to vary on just how hopeless and ill-advised the endeavor was, but basically, X996 didn’t work well due to the terrible track condition of the Northeast Corridor vs typical French lines.  To summarize a very deep-seated and messy issue: it was cobbled together from several 50+ year old, often poorly maintained mainlines and has been underinvested in since until VERY recently.  They went with the X995 instead, a Swedish Rc model that worked a lot better since Swedish rail conditions are generally closer to the US.  And also a design that dated back to the mid-60s.  The AEM-7s based on them ran until the late 2010s, the last one actually got retired right around the time Electra got de-toothpasted in 2018

This alternate timeline aspect is what got me into Amtrak history and eventually American electrification in general.  I doubt any of the creators were aware of X996, but the context behind a Nez Cassé style engine running in a vaguely US environment changes a lot.  It implies an alternate timeline where the NEC was improved enough for it to actually work practically and opens the door for some tragically attainable sci-fi about “what if neoliberalism hadn’t taken over and the US invested in a passable passenger rail system?”.  It makes me imagine nearly 50-year old funny nosed French trains running  grimy fast freight trains in Pennsylvania or dragging on New Jersey Transit commuter trains in their twilight years.  It feels weirdly natural with just how violently 70s they look with the Amtrak livery, they’d blend right in with how violently 70s many US trains look today, that’s how old they actually are.  

It’s also where my more unhinged and sacrilegious opinions flipping the steam/electric dynamic and rejecting canon’s framing came from.  Because it totally flips the circumstances of rail transport and gives a cohesive explanation for many“stupid and incorrect” aspects of Electra.  Now Electra is more a business-class train at best, running on a notoriously run down and underfunded network in an era where electrification looked like it would finally expand but never did (due to the party and politics of “needn’t ask the world to turn around and help you”).  No Comeback goes from a shitty tantrum to pretty tragic in light of the US resoundingly turning to fossil fuels in the 80s and even steam preservation doing better than electrification did then.  And in the context of a country that’s 99% unelectrified that was running electric trains from the 30s and even as old as the 1910s… suddenly a 60s-70s era engine is actually pretty futuristic and being electric is an important selling point and being proud and defensive of it makes sense.  Electra skewing Grace Jones at times even works out well because being unappreciated and running off to Europe fits the rejection of X996 and expanding electrification in general. I think early Amtrak is a compelling setting for the show in general since there was a chaotic mix of secondhand equipment and trials of foreign engines to explain the races, and basically every character could feasibly coexist besides Rusty (and my fundamental problems with him are their own even longer post).  

Electra as a more “typical” Co-Co Nez Cassé is also why I gravitate towards a lot headcanons/preferences that are far removed from the original or typical character choices.   Tall and thin?  The Northeast Corridor has fairly low clearances, it makes sense to be medium-short, modernish electric engines usually aren’t that big anyways, especially compared to other US rolling stock.  X996 would be a bit smaller and comparable speed-wise but actually stronger than Greaseball.  Internal combustion was still fairly competitive with electric traction speed-wise in the 70s-80s, you still had attempts at high-speed turbine trains and the TGV had originally been planned as one pre-oil crisis.  Ironically, the big advantage pure electric engines had (and still have) IS strength and power (especially per weight) because they don’t have to carry their own fuel source and massive electric motors were established long before effective high-horsepower rail diesel engines were.  I really can’t overstate how weirdly impressive it is that Mykal is the most train-accurate Electra and I love that he ends up being a lot of people’s first exposure to the character due to being in almost all the English legal video.  The hotter/bolder personality vs being delicate and anxious. The jarring mix of being a glamorous diva train but ridiculously beefy physically is so dead-on to how French people describe the 6500s and Co-Co models in general.  Even being unusually old and increasingly visually beat up while slapping a coat of glittery paint on it is so dead on to struggling passenger networks running sometimes absurdly old trains and putting on a sparkly veneer to improve PR.  

Anyways, this has been an exploration of the irl engines behind Electra and their often underappreciated yet widespread significance.  This also explains a lot of the method behind my madness and contrarianism with this character.  Go forth and make an army of funny nose French trains in any color and country you want.  Seriously, this style was so widespread and generally beloved you can justify them almost anywhere and even some of the old diesel units are getting moved to secondary markets today.  

[headlessandroid]

{~I am Chords, Electra's Comm Truck~}

NAME: Chords/Cords

NICKS: Cory/Chory, Comms, CC

TYPE: Caboose technically, Radio/Conductor/"Communications"

is Electra's Comms Truck/Caboose, calls Electra "boss" or "my boss"

is basically a "radio", sporting an one sided headset with a microphone (all photos are missing this???)

has three main panels: (1) on his arm that he uses to control his channels, frequencies and other things. he can change things by tearing wires out or tying them to other wires. (2) on his throat which controls his voice and methods of speaking (languages, morse) - tearing these out can silence him, deafen him, blind him. (3) on his back is a bigger panel that harbors his breaker box, where his kill switch and rebooting breakers are.

has extra wires coming out of his hair and other parts of his body, they seem to have no real use but are sparking. this might be frightening engines, as it can cause problems or fires!

can have his memory wiped by Wrench or Electra, since he tends to overhear loads of conversations even private ones. he often has his memory wiped after these conversations, but not the rest of his memories.

he isnt the brightest, having been mostly sheltered by Electra and the Components. he is not very durable, is very light, and seems to be connected to all of the Components somehow (holds the maintenance workers in him)

[alton-towers-real]

Since the Smiler has been trending on different platforms and some new fans are spreading misinformation about the 2015 crash, so here is the correct information:

Incident Overview:

June 2nd, 2015, the Smiler roller coaster at Alton Towers crashed, resulting in severe injuries to riders, including two teenagers losing their legs.

Operating Conditions:

The park was unusually busy with high wind speeds exceeding safety limits set by the manufacturer.

Technical Difficulties:

At 1 pm, the Smiler experienced technical issues, prompting closure for maintenance.

Safety Oversight:

During maintenance, a fifth train was added without informing the maintenance team, breaching safety protocols.

Faulty Procedure:

Despite high winds, the empty fifth train was sent without water dummies for weight, causing it to roll back and stall.

Miscommunication:

Maintenance incorrectly assumed a "ghost train" triggered a safety mechanism, leading to an override.

Collision and Injuries:

The overridden safety mechanism led to a collision between the stalled empty train and a fully loaded one, resulting in injuries to all riders.

Responsibility and Fines:

Investigations attributed fault to both ride operations and maintenance teams, with Alton Towers receiving the majority of blame. The park was fined five million pounds.

Safety Improvements:

Post-incident, enhanced safety measures were implemented, including more CCTV, revised staff training, and the prevention of override unless by senior engineers.

Preventative Measures:

Gerslauer, the manufacturer, introduced features to prevent operation during high winds, ensuring a similar incident would be impossible, enhancing safety across the industry.

[loreleismusings99]

Late Night Repairs

In which the quiet becomes a bit too much for Mark to handle.

Hi folks, I'm back for a little bit because I really wanted to participate in #spookyseasoninthebarrens2024 by @jmathesonandsiblings so I wrote this quick little thing for my baby girl, Mark! :3

This is for prompt 6: Haunted House

Happy Halloween, y'all 👻

Warnings: isolation, auditory/visual/tactile hallucinations, grief, fear/anxiety, hopelessness, brief discussion of sleep deprivation, description of someone suffering/dying from suffocation/asphyxia, discussion of death, eye horror, blood, missing loved ones, angst (technically). Please, please, please let me know if I missed anything that should be added to this list.

The soft beeps of the CO2 scrubber’s emergency alarm are deceptively loud and make Mark jump as it cuts through the impossibly still silence that comes with the night. One thing he still hasn’t gotten used to after being here for 23 days is how dead nighttime is on Mars. The increased thermal energy that comes with the sun usually yields soft winds that lightly rustle the HAB canvas and make small clouds of sand hit the airlock door, making it sound like he’s inside a rain stick. Once the sun sets though, an eerie silence creeps in with the sunset’s cold, blue, Mie-scattered light. 

Maybe he’s just really missing having his crewmates with him, but he’s quickly started to hate the stillness that comes with living on a dead planet by himself. The more unsavory side effects of his isolation are much more unbearable--there’s something about not knowing when his solitude will end that makes the emptiness of his surroundings so much worse than the isolation training module he went through back on Earth. For the past few nights, every other corner he turns has an extra shadow he didn’t account for; the occasional puff of wind feels just a little too much like a hand and the whirring of the water reclaimer and heating unit running sounds devastatingly like a murmur. It was easier to ignore the first couple of nights--filling the silence as best as he could with episodes of Happy Days and Commander Lewis’s disco. Sometimes though--when he needs to charge his iPad or when he hyper-focuses on his work and forgets to turn something on to fill the space with more than the sounds of his breathing and the rustling of tools--his mind fills the void for him. Sometimes it’s a persistent ringing in his ears, others it’s a convincing recreation of Martinez’s laugh muffled by the walls of the HAB and his memory, making him tear through the HAB trying to find his friend only to be met with nothing but his loneliness. 

He finishes typing out his log for the day, outlining the maintenance tasks he completed to keep his tragically high-tech tomb operational (if he’s gonna die here, he might as well do so warm and breathing clean air), and stands up out of his chair with a strained groan. Scratching at the stubble growing on his cheek, Mark walks across the main room of the HAB bubble to the complaining machine and takes off the white panel hiding the ducts, intake valves, and pumps of the robust Four Bed CO2 scrubber. The mechanical engineer takes some time listening to the motors and pressure-driven sounds of the machine, trying to locate a clue as to what part of the damn thing is blocked up this time. A soft whistle coming from the interface between the pre-cooler and a pipe connecting it to bed A-2 catches Mark’s attention, and he sees a small chunk of ice growing around the collar keeping the pipe in place at the valve. 

“Well there’s your problem,” Mark utters under his breath as he turns the apparatus off using a panel immediately to the right of the box containing it and slips on a pair of cryo-gloves before touching the parts surrounding the cooling element, lightly dusting off the collection of ice crystals surrounding the collar before carefully removing it and cleaning the ice clogging the mouth of the duct. He re-mates the duct and the valve, torquing it back to a satisfying tension, and turns the machine back on, the pumps chugging away happily now that the blockage is gone. 

Mark nods and puts the cover back onto the front of the scrubber’s casing before turning around to append a record of the repair to the end of his log. Or, he would if he wasn’t frozen in place staring out the porthole in the airlock door across the room from him. The scene outside is dark and barely perceivable due to the small diameter of the window and the contrast of the bright LED lights, but your piercing stare is something he’s profoundly accustomed to seeing--just… not outside the HAB’s airlock. He tries to move but the muscles in his legs merely twitch uselessly with the idea of walking towards the glass of the porthole. He tries to blink, but an impending sense of doom prevents him from attempting to break the unexpected eye contact. His heart clenches agonizingly in his chest, and he can feel the beginnings of a sob bubble up from his chest. Logically he knows this is a hallucination--likely made worse by stress and sleep deprivation--but that doesn’t stop him from calling out to you in a horse, pitiful squeak. His knees buckle slightly before the lights above him flicker and shut off, plunging him and the phantom image of you into near-full darkness.

 Your face is now only dimly illuminated by a light that didn’t go out at the center of the room, but it’s enough for Mark to see angry red petechiae begin to bloom across your face, lips, and the delicate skin surrounding your now blood-shot eyes. The warmth drains from your face and his ears begin to ring as he watches you open your mouth, frothy and bloody fluid pouring beyond your lips. He’s shaking now as he watches you scream silently at him through the fluid pouring down your chin, pins and needles accosting his hands and feet as he finally musters the strength to turn away from your dying, angry visage and squeeze his eyes shut.  

“This--this isn’t real, there’s no one there…” he mutters to himself, tears streaming down his cheeks as he tries to calm his breathing down. He opens his eyes again to discover that the lights either turned back on or were never off in the first place and he starts to lower his hackles, the muscles in his neck and shoulders beginning to relax. Slowly, Mark turns back around and looks through the porthole to find nothing staring back at him. Mark lets out a relieved, shaky breath before running a hand down his face and walking back to his chair to update his log. Typing the details of his repair with shaking hands he begins to properly sob and has to pause, scooting the chair back and winding an arm around his middle, the other raised to clasp his hand over his mouth to try to stop himself from screaming in grief and fear at both what his brain just conjured up and the very real possibility of never seeing you again and leaving you behind to mourn him. The force of his anguish makes him fold in on himself and he continues to sit there, trying to calm himself down at least for long enough to finish his log and get to bed. 

After a bit, he feels the temperature drop and a shiver shoots down his spine. He goes rigid and his sobs stop abruptly and a soft, high-pitched, and short-lived whistle coming from somewhere else in the HAB commands his attention. The same feeling of dread oozes back into his chest as he listens to faint taps sound from behind him, getting louder as whatever is creating them gets closer to his chair and stops, letting emptiness fill the soundscape of the main lab space. In the silence, Mark can hear the blood rushing in his ears and his shaky breathing. With his eyes closed it almost begins to feel like he’s in his space EVA suit back on the Hermes. The sound of his breathing tapers off as he quiets enough to hold his breath and try to listen for either the sounds of the HAB or anything that would alert him to the presence of… something, anything behind him. He’s about to let out his held breath when he feels shockingly cold fingers lightly wrap around the back of his neck, causing a terrified wail to rip out of his lungs as he stands up out of his chair and sees… nothing behind him. 

Mark continues to stand and stare silently at the false wall behind him, raising a hand to touch the warm skin of the back of his neck and feeling goosebumps bloom across it. He basks in the violently loud silence before the tension is broken by the sound of the HAB’s temperature control unit letting out a shrill, piercing tone alerting him to a new malfunction in its system.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Thanks for reading!

works referenced:

4 Bed CO2 scrubber

The Martian Fan-Made Timeline

Wind on Mars

Sunsets on Mars -> Mie Scattering experiment!

Pathology of Asphyxial Death MAJOR CW: death, and suffocation both described in text and shown in images.