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umaracrepairmaintenence · 2 months

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The Importance of AC Repair & Maintenance in Dubai

In Dubai's scorching heat, a functional air conditioning system is not just a luxury but a necessity. To ensure your AC unit operates efficiently and reliably, regular maintenance and timely repairs are essential. Let's delve into the significance of AC repair and maintenance in Dubai and how it contributes to a comfortable indoor environment.

Preventive AC Maintenance:

Preventive AC maintenance involves regular inspections, cleaning, and servicing to identify and address potential issues before they escalate.

Engage reputable AC maintenance services in Dubai to conduct thorough checks, including AC filter cleaning, coil cleaning, and duct cleaning.

By investing in preventive maintenance, you can extend the lifespan of your AC unit, improve energy efficiency, and reduce the likelihood of costly repairs.

Timely AC Repairs:

Despite proactive maintenance, AC units may encounter malfunctions or breakdowns over time.

Prompt AC repairs are crucial to address issues such as inadequate cooling, strange noises, or unusual odors emanating from the unit.

Seek out AC repair specialists in Dubai who offer responsive services, including emergency repairs, to minimize downtime and restore comfort to your space swiftly.

Specialized AC Services:

Beyond routine maintenance and repairs, specialized AC services cater to specific needs to optimize performance.

AC gas top-up, coil cleaning, and compressor repairs are examples of specialized services that address critical components of the AC system.

Partnering with a comprehensive AC service provider in Dubai ensures access to a full suite of specialized services tailored to your unit's requirements.

Efficient AC Installation and Replacement:

Proper AC installation is fundamental to the long-term performance and efficiency of your unit.

When installing or replacing an AC system, enlist the expertise of professionals familiar with Dubai's climate and infrastructure.

Quality AC installation services ensure optimal airflow, energy efficiency, and compatibility with your space's cooling needs.

Comprehensive Appliance Repairs:

In addition to AC services, comprehensive appliance repairs address malfunctions in other essential household appliances.

Whether it's a malfunctioning washing machine, refrigerator, or stove oven, reliable appliance repair services in Dubai ensure all aspects of your home remain functional.

Conclusion: In Dubai's sweltering climate, prioritizing AC repair and maintenance is essential for a comfortable and enjoyable indoor experience. From preventive maintenance to timely repairs and specialized services, investing in professional AC care ensures your unit operates efficiently and reliably. Partner with trusted AC service providers in Dubai to safeguard your comfort and well-being, allowing you to stay cool and comfortable year-round.

#AC Maintenance #AC Repairing #AC Duct Cleaning #AC Emergency Repair #AC Filter Cleaning #AC Gas Top Up #AC Installation #AC Coil Cleaning #AC Compressor Repairing #AC Replacement #AC Uninstallation #Window AC Repairing #Split AC Repairing #Split AC Maintenance #Electrical Repair #Washing Machine Repairing #Refrigerator Repairing #Stove Oven Repair

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mtpleasantheating · 5 months

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Exploring the Benefits of Electric Tankless Water Heaters

Experience year-round comfort with Four Seasons Heating and Air. Our Tankless Water Heaters Electric provides instant hot water without the need for a bulky storage tank. Enjoy energy efficiency, and space-saving design, and never run out of hot water again. Say goodbye to cold showers. Contact us at (843) 345-4095.

Follow on Facebook.

#tankless water heaters electric #tankless water heaters #plumber charleston sc #charleston plumber #remodeling contractors charleston sc #gas line installation near me #gas stove installation near me #hvac repair charleston sc

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midessafireplacellc · 1 year

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Midessa fireplace LLC | Fireplace Store in Midland TX

Our Fireplace store in Midland TX, is a one-stop shop for purchasing the fire feature of your dreams and maintaining the burner appliances we sell. From us, you can have an extensive lineup of options that best suit your fireplace design and budget. Superior customer satisfaction is what we prioritize the most, and we achieve this by ensuring quality in every of our burner appliances. Moreover, our Wood burning stove in Midland TX, is designed to produce indoor heat through wood combustion, helping you keep warm in the winter season. We have also kept our prices low for your convenience. So, if you want to know more about our products, visit or call us today.

#Fireplace Store in Midland TX #Wood Burning Stove in Midland TX #Wood Burning Stove Servicing near me #Electric Fireplace Repair near me #Fireplace Services near me

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7y675hdfjgn43856028 · 2 years

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Bosch Hot & Hob Plate Repair JBR 0505736357

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Cooking range out of order? Eating out, ordering in, no-cook days – all this sounds fun, but only for a while. Eventually, you want that Bosch Hot Plate Repair JBR

and enjoy home-cooked meals. Get your Bosch Hot Plate Repair JBR

by skilled technicians, because nothing can really replace home-cooked meals. So whether your burners are out of order, or there is a mechanical fault – a disruption can spell havoc not just in the kitchen, but to your daily schedule too. And when you are stretched for time and making alternative arrangements, the last thing you want is to chase down a tech to fix your Bosch Hot Plate Repair JBR.

#Bosch Hot Plate Repair in JBR #Bosch Electric Hob Repair in JBR #Bosch Electric Gas Stove Repair in JBR #Bosch Cooking Range Repair in JBR #Bosch Gas Stove Repair in JBR

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pharekappliances · 2 years

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When observing to select your Appliance Repair in Philadelphia, PA, you must show careful deliberation. The correct technician will make the alteration between saving and throwing away your broken appliance. You may not for myself recognize an accomplished tech, but our company works with such authorities on a daily basis! And you’re merely a few minutes away from booking one for yourself.

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hearthside21 · 2 years

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#Gas Fireplace Repair #patio industry #electric stove #wood stove #wood pellet stove #pellet stove

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commitmentissue · 3 months

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zombie aftermath challenge - adjusted

i'm absolutely obsessed with all things zombie related, and i've always been dying to try the apocalypse challenge. it looks extremely fun, but i find the original challenge to be a little too hard for my play style, and the aftermath challenge a bit too short. so here's my version of it based off the original apocalypse challenge and this one from cannibalcupcake. the biggest change i've made is that there are much less restrictions. if it's not listed as a restriction, you can do it. my challenge is also a little different, because it gets slightly harder as you move on. there's also only 5 generations because there's really only so much you can do until you're just playing a regular legacy again. i would highly recommend playing with vector if you want actual zombies, along with this mod and this one if you want weapons to kill them. you may use any other violence/weapon mods if you wish. if not, you may use cheats to get around killing them or any sims. this is pretty long, so everything is included under the cut 🧟‍♂️

to start off with, any surviving sims and heirs must have at least one survival trait. if they get any non-survival trait, they must be killed off when they reach young adult. you may only choose the founder's traits, the rest of your sims have to be randomized. any other traits not listed are fine, i tried to go with what the original list had and my own personal opinions on what would work.

survival traits

-adventurous -angler -athletic -brave -daredevil -disciplined -eccentric -eco-friendly -family oriented (all sims who give birth must have this trait, if they do not, they must be killed off after giving birth. the children may survive) -gatherer -genius -green thumb -handy -kleptomaniac -light sleeper -lucky -natural cook -never nude -nurturing (they may also have this instead of family oriented, but same rules apply) -perceptive -technophobe -vegetarian

non-survival traits

-absent minded -brooding -clumsy -coward -hates the outdoors -heavy sleeper -insane -loser -neurotic -couch potato -hot-headed -over-emotional -unlucky -unstable

stage zero - infection

the world as we know it has fallen- no more electricity, no more jobs, no more people. there's zombies roaming around, after all. however, you managed to survive the end of the world, and now it's up to you to rebuild it.

to survive stage zero;

start off with two young adult sims, can have any traits but must have at least one survival trait. these will be the only sims whose traits you can choose, so pick wisely!

must live in a fenced in lot, if a sim leaves the lot for any reason besides an expedition or killing loitering zombies, they must be killed off

must grow your own food, there's no supermarket

must produce a surviving heir, have has many kids as you need to until you can do this. you also must try for a baby every time your sims want to woohoo

your sims may not have a job or be self-employed. money is obsolete now. you cannot sell anything in your inventory

you cannot interact with any sims outside of the family, they're all zombies!

cannot use any electricity. a stove and refrigerator are fine, they just have to be the cheapest one, you also cannot upgrade anything to unbreakable. you cannot repair or replace anything unless your sim is handy or has mastered the handiness skill. once it breaks, it's gone.

if you can justify something as battery powered, it is allowed, but if it breaks it cannot be fixed or replaced

may use plumbing, but no showers (yes, even the outdoor shower unless you don't like mods). sponge baths only. same rules as electricity

may go on expeditions outside the lot once a week, but once you have children only one sim may go outside until you get a teenager

this stage will be completed once your heir has aged up to a young adult.

stage one - lawless land

you and your family thought you had this survival thing down, until other survivors came pouring into town. now you have to defend yourself not just from the zombies, but from other people as well.

to survive stage one;

your heir must join the criminal career and until they are level 5, they must pay a $300 tax to the gangs every week

you may only marry and talk to other sims in the criminal career

you can only join the thief branch, your sim isn't the big bad guy

you can no longer use any plumbing or electrical items, the gangs have tainted the water and have completely shut off all power

can still go on weekly expeditions, but now you must roll a die on whether or not the sim will die. even for life, odd for death

you may also only leave during the night now, as the gangs patrol the streets

you can only have two children, but if neither survive you can try again. your sims must try for a baby every time they woohoo, so be careful, any extra children must be killed off

master the athletic skill

master the logic skill

reach the top of the criminal career

this stage will be completed once you have topped the criminal career and your heir has aged up to a young adult.

stage two - military power

you grew up knowing that all hope was lost and the past was in the past, until one day the military rolled into town and announced they were taking over. they've vowed to wipe out all the zombies across simlandia, but can you really trust them?

to survive stage two;

your heir must join the military career, and until they reach the top of the career they must pay a weekly $100 tax for each sim in the household (5 sims = $500)

you may only marry and talk to other sims in the military career

you may now use plumbing again, but only from 2PM-5PM

you can use electricity after reaching level 5 in the career, the military provides you with a generator. they must be the cheapest items

you can now use the cell phone again, but only for calls (treat it like a walkie-talkie or radio)

all food must be rationed, you can only keep 5 of each type of produce/meat. the rest must be 'donated' to the military (aka just throw it out, no selling!)

you can have as many kids as you want, but keep the taxes in mind. you can still only try for a baby when woohooing

you may now go on as many expeditions as you'd like at any time of day, but you still must role a die on your chances. even for life, odd for death

master the athletic skill

master the handiness skill

this stage will be completed once you have topped the military career and your heir has aged up to a young adult.

stage three - the cure

the military has announced that the only way to get rid of the zombies is to set off bombs. but this means you and your family could die, and all that they've worked for will be destroyed. it's up to you to save simanity.

your heir must join either the medical or science careers, but these are no longer jobs- you are a volunteer and money earned must be given back to the career of your choice. you can save $50 each payday

every promotion you get you must roll a die to decide if you lived or died while attempting to create the cure. even for life, odd for death. after 3 successful attempts, the cure has been made

you can now marry and talk to sims outside of your career, but no one from the military

plumbing is now unrestricted

electricity is now unrestricted, but you can still only use the cheapest items

sims no longer need family orientated/nurturing to give birth now that the hospital has been set up. you also no longer have to try for a baby every time they want to woohoo

food is no longer rationed, but you don't trust the meat the military provides. your family must be vegetarian (does not need the trait)

have as many children as you can, you're trying to repopulate and also make sure someone else can take over for you in case you fail at creating the vaccine

master gardening skill

master handiness skill

this stage will be completed once you have successfully created the cure and your heir has aged up to a young adult.

stage four - survival of the fittest

your parent's cure has been spread around the world, and the zombies have been wiped out. the world is ready to return to normal, but what is normal? you were born into a world of survival, you don't know anything else.

your heir may now join any self-employed career

your sims will no longer need to be killed off for having a non-survival trait, but they must be kicked out at young adulthood

all plumbing and electricity has been fixed and you can now afford nicer things- but do you really want them at this point?

your sim must live off the land, no buying things from stores, you don't trust anything from outside your own garden or what you've caught yourself

you can leave the lot whenever you want and no longer need to worry about rolling a die- it's safe outside!

do not get married

master gardening, inventing, and fishing

reach level 5 in 3 other skills of your choice

raise a spoiled child, they don't have to worry about their life anymore, so they're nothing like you. do not have a close relationship with your children

as an elder, move to a city to see what the new world has become. it's up to you what to do next

this stage will be completed once your heir dies.

and then that's it! you're welcome to continue the legacy past this however you'd like, but that's where i'm going to end it at. if you try this challenge you can @ me, i'd love to see it 💚 any feedback is much appreciated

#ts3 #sims 3 challenge #ts3 challenge #zombie aftermath challenge #zombie apocalypse challenge #i made this more for myself but my friend inspired me so i decided to share it :3c

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gvfmarge · 1 month

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Lighthouse of my Soul - Chapter One

Hi everyone!

This is my very first multipart fic! I hope you enjoy it! I’m feeling a little underwhelmed with how this first chapter turned out. I want it to be more, so hopefully you’ll stick around! I’m hoping to grow my writing a with this fic and maybe get some feelings out while doing it. This is going to be a bit of a slow burner, so be gentle with me, I’m a baby!

(Ghost)Jake x Reader

Warnings: none? Some cussing, some slightly spooky stuff but not too much for now.

I’ve also never had a tag list, so if you’re interested in the next parts just let me know and I’ll tag you! Xoxoxoxo

Were you running away? From what? It didn’t matter. You felt like you had finally reached your destination. You felt the ocean was your new beginning. The Outer Banks had always been your comfort place, growing up vacationing here was always your favorite. It felt like home every time you visited, so it was a no brainer when you had been offered a temporary position at the local newspaper in Hatteras. You felt that you were going to finally make something of yourself. All the hard work you had put into studying and writing was going to pay off.

You had luckily stumbled upon a tiny cottage to rent. The owner explaining it had been built in 1874 and had weathered many storms and tribulations. It had originally been part of the life-saving station before they had built a newer building and eventually became the Coast Guard. The house had endured damage along the years from storms and each time had been repaired. When you stepped foot inside, you could feel the history. The floorboards squeaked with each step inside, taking a deep breath it smelled like sea salt and fresh air. Everything in the house was basically original. The dark hardwood floors showed signs of wear, with little scratches here and there and you could see the discoloration throughout the house where many footsteps had worn down the stain. The walls were fully covered in shiplap and had been sanded down and painted a beautiful light blue color. The kitchen was small, with only 3 overhead cabinets, a small older fridge and a stove. The living room was connected to the kitchen, you could barely see where the owners had taken out the wall to try and have somewhat of an open concept. Slowly inspecting each room, you came to realize just how small it was compared to the pictures you had viewed online. You realized you might not even have enough space for a couch and a table, but you would figure logistics out later. Walking up the steep rickety stairs you came upon a short hallway, at the end was a window stretching from the ceiling to the floor with an amazing view of the beach and ocean outside of the house, from the second floor it seemed you could see forever over the horizon. There are two bedrooms split by the hallway. Looking inside the room to your left, you noticed a small desk sitting underneath a window looking out to the ocean. On it, sat an empty white vase and a typewriter. It piqued your curiosity, the home came unfurnished and you were not made aware of anything left behind for you to use.

Walking over to it, you sat down in the tiny wooden chair and ran your fingers over the vintage keys. As soon as your fingertips met with the cold metal, you felt electricity flow through your hand, up your arm and down your spine. Goosebumps rose over your skin and you quickly pulled your hand away. The shock and stress of moving must be getting to you, you thought. You gazed out the window taking in the ocean waves. You were finally alone, it felt peaceful but somehow, you felt a longing in the house. There was something that you couldn’t quite place your finger on.

You felt a presence with you and quickly turned around to the entrance of the room. You could have sworn you felt eyes on you but there wasn’t a soul there. You slowly turned your body around again to face the window and your mind wondered back to the memories you had that led you here. Suddenly, a faint smell of tobacco burning filled the room. The sweet but heavy aroma seemed to swirl around your body. It was intoxicating but slightly overwhelming. You felt frozen for just a moment, not quite understanding what was happening. With another deep breath you slowly stood up and scanned the room for any sign of someone else. As quickly as the tobacco smell came, it was gone. You shrugged the smell off to the history of the cottage and made your way back downstairs to begin unpacking and making yourself finally feel at home.

The sun had slowly crept through your first floor windows and shown brightly against the kitchen cabinets. You looked at the clock you had just hung on the wall to see that it was 6pm. You had worked for hours trying to unpack all of the boxes the moving company had just piled into your living area. Thankfully, the moving company had taken your mattress upstairs for you so you didn’t have to figure out how to lug it up the tight cornered stairs by yourself. Deciding it was best to take the empty bedroom, you asked them to place it under the window that overlooked the ocean. The bedrooms were narrow, with only about two feet of space between both sides of the mattress and the walls. At the other end of the room was a built in closet that was actually a nice size considering how small the whole house was. The door opened up beside the closet, so there was really no other option for your bed. You were not a fan for your bed to be facing the door or the closet, but it would have to work.

Boxes on top of boxes had somehow dwindled down to a select few that you didn’t know what to do with. As you carefully climbed the steep stairs with box in tow, you felt just how tired your legs really were. You had climbed these stairs at least a thousand times today just trying to get everything in your desired spot. You had been avoiding the typewriter room. It just felt odd to you and you really had no use for it now, so deciding to use it as storage for now, you slowly pushed the heavy wooden door open with the cardboard box and peaked inside. No one, just the lonely typewriter. There was such a sadness in the room and you didn’t know how. There was no explanation but you understood with old houses came a lengthy wrap sheet of history inside the walls. You finished bringing the random boxes into the room to go through later. Slowly exiting the room, you once again felt goosebumps raise across your skin. You quickly slammed the bedroom door shut and almost ran down the stairs.

“You’re just imagining things, it’s an old house. You’ve watched too many scary movies.” Scoffing to yourself. You turned to the front door which was from top to bottom glass and stared out to the ocean. You felt such a connection. There was just something special about the ocean. It always made you feel whole, even as a child when you didn’t know you were missing something, you knew it was to be in awe of.

You made a mental note to buy curtains to place over the front and back doors to keep your privacy. The two doors mirrored each other in the house, you could walk a straight line from the front door to the back door and see right through both doors of glass.

That night you sat in the floor of your living room, using an empty cardboard box as your coffee table to eat the pizza you had ordered in off of. Thankfully you did have a TV, so there would be a little bit of entertainment to keep you occupied before you started your new position on Monday.

After watching what seemed like hours of trash TV, you decided to tuck yourself in for the first night in your new home. Brushing your teeth and doing your skincare in the only bathroom downstairs, you stared at yourself in the mirror. “Am I actually doing this? Is this actually real?” Your mind was spinning miles a minute and you hoped you would be able to turn it off enough to get a little rest. The first night in new homes never seems to go smoothly. You either can’t sleep because it’s too quiet or the ceiling fan is too loud, or the room is too hot or too cold. You were nervous for what you would find when you made your way upstairs in the darkness. You huffed when you realized the owners hadn’t thought of putting a light in the stairway when they remodeled the house, so you had to use your senses to make sure you didn’t fall tumbling down to the bottom.

At the top of the stairs, you sped walked to get inside your bedroom and practically slammed your bedroom door shut. “What are you so afraid of.” You laughed at yourself. This would be a long summer if you couldn’t get it together. Crawling into bed, really just your mattress on the floor, you turned the switch of the lamp off and faced the window that was on the left side of the bed. You could only see the stars and the moon through the window panes, you stared for what seemed like minutes until your entire bedroom was suddenly lit up with a bright white light. You shot up in bed and stared. “What the hell” is all you could say. Until a few seconds later, your bedroom was lit up like the Fourth of July again. “There’s no fucking way, are you serious.” You hadn’t realized on the drive here or even unpacking your things, that Cape Hatteras Lighthouse was literally in your back yard. The lighthouse was close enough to shine its light through your bedroom window and make you feel like you just got busted for drugs by the police. The lighthouse’s light rotation takes about 7 seconds, which is more than aggravating when you’re trying to sleep. You flipped your body over like you were trying to slam through the floor and groaned. “Of course, I would get stuck with a creepy old house and the lighthouse in my backyard.” You grumbled. After calming down, sleep finally found you and you more than gladly welcomed the darkness.

How long had you been asleep? You picked up your phone and the time read 3am. You huffed out another long sigh. Your bladder felt like it was going to explode. There was no falling asleep like this or you would most definitely wet the bed. You laid there for a few moments until you felt like you could brave the dark house in the middle of the night. Of course the only bathroom was downstairs. Why wouldn’t it be?

You turned your bedside lamp on and rolled out onto your feet. Creeping down the dark stairs with only your phones flashlight, you didn’t sense anything. Everything felt calm to your surprise. There was no uneasiness and you didn’t feel like the devil himself would pop out around the corner. You finished your business quickly and started the ascent back up to your room. On the fourth or fifth step up, a rhythmic sound stopped you in your tracks. You stood silent and as still as a statue, your heart pounding so hard you could feel it in your toes. Your ears became hot as you realized what the sound was. The vintage typewriter. You were frozen. Even if you wanted to turn around and bust your way out the front door and squeal like a baby all the way back home, your body wouldn’t let you. Your feet felt like they had been cemented to the step.

Suddenly the bell of the typewriter rang out in the upstairs bedroom and the keys were being pressed in a quick but precise fashion. The person using the typewriter knew what they were doing and they seemed to be in a hurry to write whatever they were writing. You heard the paper being ripped out of the roller. Silence. No foot steps, no more typing, nothing but the ocean waves outside. You took a deep breath and steadied yourself on the wall of the staircase. Did you imagine all of it? Are you still just half asleep and dreamed it? Are you actually going insane? Everything felt like it was moving in slow motion and turning black, the world felt like it was swirling around your head and you squeezed your eyes tightly shut to try and stop the uneasy feeling.

When you opened them, you were staring at your wooden bedroom ceiling. You followed the grooves of the shiplap until your eyes met the window you had been looking out to see the lighthouse light. The sun was warming your face and the brightness almost seemed too bright. You scrambled around your comforter to find your phone, which showed 8:45am.

“There’s no possible way that’s right.” You quickly googled the time and realized it was correct. You had somehow blacked out on the stairs and made it into bed? How? Your mind was racing with confusion and then you remembered, the typewriter.

You quickly opened up the text thread with your landlady and hit the call button. Hearing the ringing tone you couldn’t even conjure up what you were about to say. Were you just giving up? Was this going to break you?

“Hello?” The sweet lady answered in a joyful tone. “Hi Mrs. Hartley, did you accidentally leave a typewriter and desk in one of the bedrooms upstairs?”

There was silence on the other end of the line and you were becoming more and more anxious the longer she took to respond. “No honey, I didn’t leave anything in the house. It has been empty for over a year now.” She quietly answered in her sweet but concerned tone. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes, yes. No worries at all. I had a great first night here. Thank you so much again!” You hit the red button before she could even think of a reply.

You looked up to your bedroom door that was wide open and felt the goosebumps rise once again down your spine. What the actual fuck is happening here?

#jake kiszka x reader #greta van fleet #gvf #gvf smut #jake kiszka fanfic #Jake kiszka #Gvfmarge mine

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emitheduck · 6 months

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The Safehouse (Bucky x Reader)

You have to stay over in a remote cabin for a mission…but there’s only one bed MASTERLIST

T/W: mentioning of nightmares/trauma (mostly thanos and winter soldier stuff), talk of guns, talk of shooting, reader is a widow–mention of red room trauma

-- “Pretty sure this is the place Fury talked about, this is the only house I’ve seen in miles.” (Y/n) sighed as the door to the cabin opened without a problem. Why would it need to even be locked if there wasn’t any sign of well, anyone, for miles.

This cabin was just a hidden spot for hopefully a one night stay. Fury suggested it, as both his agents needed to be active in the area, for when the coming threat–Hydra–passed through. Their sources said it should be passing by sometime tomorrow afternoon, the latest being a 72 hour stay.

“We could be camping, and that would be even worse. Heard it can get cold around here at night, and that’s not even counting wind chill.” Bucky said, setting his bag down on the small kitchen table. “Looks like we have no electricity, but there is a wood stove and running water.” He sighed, noticing the abundance of both matches and candles.

(Y/n) went over to the cabinets, sure enough there was a healthy stockpile of canned food and other dried goods they could get by on. Nothing compared to eating the foods that New York had to offer, but this would suffice for the time being. “Did you check upstairs? Someone said the closet will have a fake back and that’s where extra weapons are.”

Bucky nodded, going up the stairs where the bedroom was. He had to do a double take. The stairs lead right to one bedroom; not two, one. Even worse, there was one queen bed sitting in the middle of said bedroom, in a cabin where the only other option to lay was the floor. “Hey uh, (Y/n)? Can you come here?”

She quickly ran up the stairs, gun in hand, clearly worried by the tone of his voice. “What is it?” She asked him, looking around the room before her eyes fell right on what clearly worried him, and now her.

One fucking bed.

“I’ll just lay on the floor downstairs or something. It’s not a big deal.” Bucky told her, shrugging as if it was nothing. Shrugging like his back wasn’t sore enough as it was, sleeping on the floor of his apartment back home. One more night of painful floor sleeping wouldn’t kill him, maybe mess up his spine beyond repair, but not kill him.

“It’s okay, I can sleep on the floor. Or, we can sleep in shifts or something?” She suggested, brushing past him to check on the closet, sure enough, a fake back door that concealed a weapon stash. “Or–a crazy idea really–we just tough it out and share the bed?” (Y/n) asked him, feeling the heat rise up on the back of her neck, feeling the seconds tick by as she waited for his answer.

Bucky tried his best to not blush, looking down at his feet before he answered her. “I’m not saying that we can’t, but I sometimes get these nightmares, and I wake up a lot. I don’t want to put you through that.” He told her, knowing it was embarrassing enough to have to confess that he had them, and even more embarrassing to even have them in the first place.

She nodded, tongue in cheek as she tried to not make a fool of herself. “If it makes you feel better, that happens to me a lot of the nights too.” She told him, feeling the silence hang thick in the air before she coughed and looked at her watch. “Well, it’s getting late, and we’ve been walking here all day, and I think we should just try and get some sleep.”

He said nothing as he shrugged off his jacket, tossing it somewhere on the ground as he laid on top of the bed; still dressed in his t-shirt, jeans, and boots while he laid there. “Okay, goodnight.”

“Bucky, I might not be the smartest person in the world, but I think you should get comfortable before you try to sleep.” She smiled at him, grabbing her backpack off the floor and bringing it with her into the bathroom.

Of course, she was right and he was just being ridiculous. There was nothing embarrassing about this. Two agents needed to both get some sleep, in order to do their job they were assigned to do, and it just so happened they needed to both sleep in the same bed. And it just so happened that Bucky already had to be working the case with his crush, and now he had to spend the whole night sharing the bed with said crush.

As soon as he heard the door to the bathroom open, he quickly kicked off his boots and jeans, his shirt discarded with it as he hastily climbed under the covers. (Y/n) came out of the bathroom, wearing a t-shirt and sleep shorts, giving him a shy smile. “See, now that’s better. You at least look like you’re more comfortable.” She said, moving to the other side of the bed and sliding under the covers.

“If you need me to leave, at any part of the night, let me know and it’s not a problem.” Bucky told her as they both lay in the dark, both flat on their backs staring at the ceiling to not look at each other.

There was a long pause; silence was getting a little more comfortable for the both of them. “My nightmares are about the Red Room. They took me from my parents because apparently I had amazing genes. They turned me into a killer, and that’s something I have nightmares about. Knowing what I did, while just being a pawn for people in charge of me.”

He reached down under the covers, holding her hand with his. He had made sure to get the left side of the bed, that way his arm wouldn’t be near her. “I get them about, well shit, everything. Mostly the Winter Soldier stuff, but sometimes I’ll get a really nice dream about my mother and while it’s a good thing, it’s also a nightmare sometimes.”

“I’m glad we can be honest with each other, you know? I mean, we both kind of went through the same shit if you look at it.” She said softly, Bucky looking at her and noticing a silent tear running down her cheek.

“We’re both okay now.” He told her, turning in the bed to face her. “Something my therapist said, was accepting what’s happened, but knowing you’re moving forward from it, is how you kind of feel better about it. That and when you’re brainwashed, you really can’t help it.”

(Y/n) smiled slightly, turning over so she could face him. “I thought you said she was a shit therapist and you fired her?”

Bucky chuckled, nodding. “Yeah, she and I didn’t really get along. Can’t say she didn’t give me one little bit of good advice though.”

“We should try to get some sleep.” She said softly, giving him one last smile before she turned over, still holding his hand as she laid flat on her back.

–

Bucky sat up with a large gasp, leaning forward on his knees while he tried to catch his breath. Nightmare about one of the many Winter Soldier victims, as usual.

“Bucky what is it? What’s wrong?” (Y/n) asked as she sat up, instantly checking him over to make sure he was alright. “Breathe, you’re okay.” She told him, reaching over and gently rubbing his back.

He nodded, feeling both embarrassed and ashamed she saw him like this. “I’m okay, just a nightmare. Go back to bed, I’ll try to sleep on the floor downstairs.” He tried to leave the bed, only to get stopped by her hand reaching out and grabbing his arm to stop him.

“I don’t like to be alone.” She mumbled to him, shaking her head when she realized how crazy it sounded. “Please, just stay.” She said, her voice breaking.

Bucky felt his cheeks glow red, and was thankful that it was dark inside of the room. Everything was lit by the moon, leaving the room in an almost blue hue. “Of course.” He said softly while he slowly slid back under the covers.

(Y/n) didn’t say anything as she moved closer to him, gently resting one hand on his cheek while the other was on his shoulder. “I just didn’t want to be alone, and I know you don’t want to be alone either.”

“I don’t want to keep you awake if I have a nightmare again.” He muttered, the last excuse he was capable of making. He would give anything to be able to just stay in the bed, laying this close to (Y/n).

“You can wake me up as many times as you need to.” She smiled, leaning forward and pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead before snuggling down into his chest. “Try to get some rest, we need to be on the lookout tomorrow.”

They both laid next to each other, both not able to sleep. Both didn’t dare look at the time, but the wind was starting to shake the cabin. “It’s a good thing we don’t have any power, I think we would have lost it.” Bucky mumbled in the dark, watching the fire in the fireplace start to burn out.

“It’s freezing in here.” (Y/n) sighed, starting to shiver right after the lack of heat. “Do we have any more firewood or something?” She asked, pulling the covers as high up as they could go.

“I don’t think we had any left. We might just have to tough it out.” He told her, his heart feeling like it was going to burst out of his chest. “Don’t stab me or anything, but come closer to me, I’m always warm.” He told her, feeling his face light up the second she inched closer to her.

(Y/n) moved closer, hesitantly leaning onto his bare chest. “Holy shit you are warm.” Instantly, all the fear and shyness disappeared and she comfortably leaned into him. “I wish you told me sooner.”

Using his non-metal hand, he gently held her hands in his. “Your hands are freezing, you should have said something.” He shot back, feeling her hands start to warm in his hands. “What were you going to do if I never said anything?”

“Probably freeze, maybe die, who knows.” She sighed contentedly as she snuggled up closer to him. “Thank you by the way. This has truly been one of the most interesting missions I think I've been on.”

“You’re telling me. I think I should tell you, I wouldn’t do this for just anyone.” He told her while he pulled her closer to himself. “I really like you (Y/n), and I hope this isn’t weird, but if you never want to speak to me ever again, I will understand and we don’t have to speak of this again.”

(Y/n) looked up at him, taking her hand to gently pull his face down towards hers. Saying nothing, but pulling him in for a kiss. She climbed on top of him, feeling his right hand drop down to her waist to help her balance. “You’re an idiot, if you never noticed how much I like you. Why do you think we always work together? I ask to work with you all the time.”

Bucky looked at her, a goofy grin on his face. “I thought I was just lucky or something. I never thought anyone would feel that way about me, especially after everything I've done.”

“You matter. The things you’ve done, they’ve happened and we move forwards. Let’s get some sleep, we have to be alert for tomorrow.” (Y/n) smiled, giving him one last kiss before she laid down on his chest to fall asleep, both his arms wrapping around her.

–

“I just got the call from Fury, Hydra changed its path and are no longer coming your way. We have new instructions to pack up and leave whenever we have the chance.” (Y/n) said, tossing her phone down on the bed with a sigh.

“So this mission was kind of for nothing?” Bucky asked, placing his guns back inside the case he got them from.

“Not for nothing. You get to take me out on a date when we get back home.” She smiled, pressing a kiss to his cheek before she left to go pack, leaving Bucky to roll his eyes before following her.

MASTERLIST

#reader insert #reader #bucky barnes x reader #james bucky barnes #bucky fic #bucky fanfic #bucky x reader #bucky x you

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probablyasocialecologist · 10 months

Text

I want to address a problem that seems to arise repeatedly in public discussions about green growth and degrowth. Some prominent commentators seem to assume that the debate here is primarily about the question of technology, with green growth promoting technological solutions to the ecological crisis while degrowth promotes only economic and social solutions (and in the most egregious misrepresentations is cast as “anti-technology”). This narrative is inaccurate, and even a cursory review of the literature is enough to make this clear. In fact, degrowth scholarship embraces technological change and efficiency improvements, to the extent (crucially) that these are empirically feasible, ecologically coherent, and socially just. But it also recognizes that this alone will not be enough: economic and social transformations are also necessary, including a transition out of capitalism. The debate is therefore not primarily about technology, but about science, justice, and the structure of the economic system.

[...]

Ecological economists point out that when we scale back our assumptions about technological change to levels that are, to quote the physicist and ecological economist Julia Steinberger, “non-insane,” and when we reject the idea that growth in rich countries should be maintained at the expense of the Global South, it becomes clear that relying on technological change is not enough, in and of itself, to solve the ecological crisis. Yes, we need fast renewable energy deployment, efficiency improvements, and dissemination of advanced technology (induction stoves, efficient appliances, heat pumps, electric trains, and so on). But we also need high-income countries dramatically to reduce aggregate energy and material use, at a speed faster than what efficiency improvements alone could possibly hope to deliver. To achieve this, high-income countries need to abandon growth as an objective and actively scale down less necessary forms of production, to reduce excess energy and material use directly.

[...]

Degrowth does not call for all forms of production to be reduced. Rather, it calls for reducing ecologically destructive and socially less necessary forms of production, like sport utility vehicles, private jets, mansions, fast fashion, arms, industrial beef, cruises, commercial air travel, etc., while cutting advertising, extending product lifespans (banning planned obsolescence and introducing mandatory long-term warranties and rights to repair), and dramatically reducing the purchasing power of the rich. In other words, it targets forms of production that are organized mostly around capital accumulation and elite consumption. In the middle of an ecological emergency, should we be producing sport utility vehicles and mansions? Should we be diverting energy to support the obscene consumption and accumulation of the ruling class? No. That is an irrationality that only capitalism can love. At the same time, degrowth scholarship insists on strong social policy to secure human needs and well-being, with universal public services, living wages, a public job guarantee, working time reduction, economic democracy, and radically reduced inequality. These measures abolish unemployment and economic insecurity and ensure the material conditions for a universal decent living—again, basic socialist principles. This scholarship calls for efficiency improvements, yes, but also a transition toward sufficiency, equity, and a democratic postcapitalist economy, where production is organized around well-being for all, as Peter Kropotkin famously put it, rather than around capital accumulation. The virtue of this approach should be immediately clear to socialists. Socialism insists on grounding its analysis in the material reality of the world economy. It insists on science and justice. Yes, socialism embraces technology—and credibly promises to manage technology better than capitalism—but socialist visions of technology should be empirically grounded, ecologically coherent, and socially just. They should emphatically not rely on speculation or magical thinking, much less the perpetuation of colonial inequalities. Green growth visions fall foul of these core socialist values.

#jason hickel #degrowth #green growth #technocracy #ecosocialism

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factorialsotherfandoms · 2 months

Text

TW: homeless children, sick children.

Pac is thirteen, and Mike is finally asleep. His best friend got sick a few days ago, the pair having been caught out in the rain. Pac had avoided the worst of it, only to be up all night anyway, keeping track of Mike's fevers.

It broke last night, but then they had had to run - the owner of the cafe they were sheltering behind had returned from her holiday, and released a pair of dogs to scare them off. Thankfully they did not get close to either child, but the running and the searching for another place to sleep had it return.

Maybe it would be better, to try and beg there way into the keeping of another orphanage?

... Pac takes four seconds to remember why that is a bad idea.

Mike whimpers, sweating more than their water supply allows for as he shifts under stolen blankets. Pac brushes his forehead, and gently, mentally shushes him.

Pac is thirteen, which means that Mike is eleven, which means that Pac has to be the one to look after them both.

The dogs? He would have fought them. When they steal? Pac is the distraction, the one starting a showpiece of a fight as Mike scoops up the bags. When they are sick?

When they are sick, Pac pretends he does not feel his own fever, and dedicates himself to looking after Mike.

He isn't really sure what to do, but he knows someone is supposed to watch people with fevers when they sleep. They don't have enough water to waste on wetting a rag, like people do in books, but he puts one on Mike's forehead nonetheless. Mike gets the blankets, and the cushion they found lying in a puddle, and the driest spot under the overhand. Pac, meanwhile, has scraps of fabric, and cold concrete, and a very sick best friend.

It is very hard to stay awake, sick and exhausted as he is from days of looking after Mike. He would give him the world - has given him the world - but it is very hard to keep his eyes open.

Pac needs to do something, else he will fall asleep. And he is not sure why that is bad, but he knows that it is.

... One of the bags they stole was not a bag at all, but a sewing box.

Inside are threads, and needles, and buttons, and little scissors and offcuts of larger pieces of fabric.

Really, Pac should use them to fix their clothes, or save them for when things are even worse. He remembers just enough of the right classes to know that both he and Mike have growth spurts still to hit, and that will mean needing to lengthen their clothes.

But...

Pac is thirteen, and Mike is eleven, and also in the sewing box are a couple of small glass circles, like teddy bear eyes.

Pac looks at the missing button on his coat, then looks at Mike, sleeping and distressed and reaching for something that is not there.

Pac picks up the fabric, and begins to sew.

Sewing is not one of his greatest skills, but Pac knows a little about it; when Sister Isabela has been in charge of discipline, she had tended to making him help her with repairs rather than the usual punishments. Pac had been in trouble a lot, and so he had learnt to fix many things - clothes and buttons and electrical sockets and plumbing and all sorts. He had not been allowed to help fix the gas stove, but he had been made to watch it happen.

Fixing things is not quite like making things, but... but Mike is eleven, so Pac has to look after him, and the books he learnt to read from say sick children are supposed to cuddle toys.

Pac thinks it might be wrong - even before his parents hated him, he did not get to cuddle toys, and the Nuns and the Priest certainly never gave them any. Still, he has no water to make the rags wet, and he needs to steal some energy drinks in the morning and force Mike to drink them, and it's late and if he does nothing he will fall asleep too.

So, he grabs the scraps of fabric, and the needles, and the thread, and does his best.

None of the scraps are the right shape, and he is scared to cut them. Working fabric in 3D is very different to flat, but Pac does his best. The head is two approximately round shapes stitched together, with bits poking out for ears. It has a body and two arms and two legs, even if all of the limbs are different sizes and the stitching stretches a bit too much. It is a patchwork of colours - and an actual patch where some of the fabric tore, Pac does know how to patch things - stuffed not with proper stuffing but instead the remaining fabric scraps.

It is an ugly, ugly thing.

Pac, desperate for some way to help, tucks it under the blankets with Mike anyway.

In feverish sleep Mike clings to it, and clings to Pac's sleeve too. In the morning, still sick, Mike holds it even tighter when Pac has to go.

Pac comes back to their camp with a bag of stolen energy drinks, and a few sandwiches grabbed from the same rack, to find that Mike has named her Alegria.

Alegria does not survive the winter.

But two boys do, and that is what matters in the end.

#qsmp pac #qsmp mike #qsmp tazercraft #qsmp fanfic #i wanted to mention mike still keeping the eyes from the bear in his pocket but it didn't flow nicely #so just have that #maybe pac doesn't know about it #i'll probably add this to an au on ao3 when i upload it in the morning #but for now it can be by itself #this is like the flip of that fic where mike was looking after sick pac #but without the resources for a shitty hotel room #also with the toy idea i mentioned earlier

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