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heatingcoolingandbeyond · 1 year ago

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The Benefits of Hiring a Professional HVAC Contractor

Introduction When it comes to your heating, ventilation, and air conditioning (HVAC) system, it's essential to ensure that it is functioning optimally. While there are many DIY enthusiasts out there, hiring a professional HVAC contractor offers numerous benefits that shouldn't be overlooked. In this article, we will explore the advantages of entrusting your HVAC needs to a qualified professional.

Expertise and Experience One of the primary advantages of hiring a professional HVAC contractor is their expertise and experience in the field. These professionals undergo rigorous training and have extensive knowledge of HVAC systems. They are equipped with the necessary skills to diagnose problems accurately and provide effective solutions. By relying on their expertise, you can have peace of mind knowing that your HVAC system is in capable hands.

Quality Installations and Repairs Professional HVAC contractors have experience in performing installations and repairs to the highest standards. Whether you need a new HVAC system installed or your existing one repaired, hiring a professional ensures that the job is done correctly. They have access to the right tools, equipment, and parts to complete the task efficiently. By opting for professional services, you can avoid the risks of subpar installations or repairs that could lead to further issues down the line.

Time and Cost Savings While some homeowners attempt to handle HVAC repairs or installations themselves, it often ends up taking a significant amount of time and effort. Hiring a professional HVAC contractor allows you to save time that you can devote to other important tasks. Moreover, professionals are familiar with industry best practices and can work quickly and efficiently, saving you both time and money. They can also recommend energy-efficient HVAC solutions that can help reduce your utility bills in the long run.

Improved Energy Efficiency An HVAC system that is not operating at peak efficiency can lead to increased energy consumption and higher utility bills. Professional HVAC contractors can assess your system's efficiency and recommend improvements. They can perform necessary tune-ups, cleanings, and adjustments to ensure that your system operates optimally. By improving energy efficiency, you not only save money but also contribute to a greener environment.

Guarantees and Warranties Reputable HVAC contractors often provide guarantees and warranties for their services. This means that if any issues arise after the installation or repair, they will rectify them at no additional cost. Having a warranty in place offers you added protection and ensures that you receive quality service. Additionally, manufacturers' warranties on new HVAC systems usually require professional installation to remain valid, making it essential to hire a qualified contractor.

Compliance with Codes and Regulations Installing or repairing an HVAC system involves adherence to specific codes and regulations set by local authorities. Professional HVAC contractors are well-versed in these codes and regulations and ensure that all work is performed in compliance. By hiring a professional, you can avoid potential legal issues and ensure that your system meets the necessary safety standards.

Peace of Mind Perhaps one of the most valuable benefits of hiring a professional HVAC contractor is the peace of mind it offers. Knowing that your HVAC system is in the hands of trained professionals gives you confidence that the work will be completed to the highest standards. Additionally, if any unexpected issues arise during or after the project, you have the assurance that the contractor will address them promptly and effectively.

Conclusion Hiring a professional HVAC contractor brings numerous benefits beyond just repairs and installations. Their expertise, quality service, time and cost savings, energy efficiency improvements, guarantees and warranties, compliance with codes, and peace of mind make them invaluable resources. So, the next time you have HVAC needs, consider the advantages of entrusting the job to a professional.

#HVAC Contractor #ac installation #hvac services near me #Air Conditioner Company #Air Conditioning Services #HVAC Company Los Angeles #AC Maintenance #Heater Repair #Duct Cleaning Service #hvac company #hvac services

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lahvacexpert · 2 years ago

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Air Conditioner Repair Los Angeles | Maintain It In Great Condition

If you want to prevent wear and tear from causing dangerous damage and expensive repairs, you should schedule experienced air conditioner repair Los Angeles technicians who perform proper AC maintenance.

If summer arrives as quickly as spring, we will all require air conditioning soon. During the hot summer months, many of us cannot survive without the modern luxury of cold air. This summer, if we do not perform routine maintenance on our air conditioning units, we may be without cool air.

There are numerous reasons why the annual maintenance of an air conditioner is essential. In addition to cooling your home, the air conditioner is also responsible for air circulation. Dust accumulation increases when air filtration systems are full or blocked and no longer filter air.

A small investment in air duct cleaning now will result in substantial savings in the future. This spring, have your air conditioner serviced to ensure that it is ready to cool your home before the onset of summer heat.

#Air conditioner #repair #ac repair #air duct #cleaning #hvac #hvac repair #hvac service #best repair #los angeles

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bonesandchalamet · 1 year ago

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my personal best - t.chalamet

masterlist

pairing: Timothee chalamet x reader

warnings: fluff

a/n: inspired by the song personal best by maisie peters

the shoebox size apartment is awfully silent. nothing but the sound of the window installed air conditioner hums with the occasional rattle that’s enough to spook him.

he hates the unfamiliarity of your place without the lights on and you. he hates how the place looks untouched. like it was from a catalog and he was just observing a life from a different view, when in reality the pictures on the tables and scattered on shelves were of your lives in the city and Los Angeles.

the timer light flickers on, like always a minute or so later than usual, allowing him to see the tiny specks of life lived in this space. the dust collected in the corners of your living room indicates the expensive vacuum wasn’t worth the money, the light strains of hair across the floor show your footsteps in and out of the place, and the indent in your couch cushions show the love it’s experienced. all of this fills the silence in his heart with gratitude.

stepping out onto the terrace he watches for you. night shifts were becoming more frequent, and Timothee became increasingly more adamant about making sure you arrived home safely, which led to him breaking the seal in the window to climb out onto your terrace to watch you.

“you creep.” you shout from where you stand, a smile on your face to see he’s brought food with him this time after many nights of his failure to remember how starving you were after those shifts.

“do you want the burger or no?” he calls over the ledge and watches you scurry off into your complex and soon enough you’re climbing out the window, sitting across from him stuffing your face with hamburgers and fries.

“how was work?” he asks. he hardly ever has to when the bags under your eyes and messy hair usually show the exhaustion. but today looked different, there was an excitement in your eyes he hadn’t seen in awhile, he missed that.

he missed how easily excited and happy you became. he missed the nights where he got to hold you longer than a couple of hours before you were off again and the nights would repeat itself. he missed when he wasn’t living in groundhogs day, where the same nights repeat over and over, but he doesn’t particularly mind, as long as he’s got you, he’ll relive everyday just for you.

“better, I’m getting the hang of things, and guess what?” your lips tug a smirk, you pull your body closer to him, knees touching one another, “this is my last week of night shifts.”

a smile breaks out across his face, he leans in himself pressing a kiss to your lips, “I think that’s the best news I’ve heard in awhile.”

“it means we have more nights together, and less of this.” you gesture to the greasy bag next to you and the uncomfortable grates of the terrace you’re both seated on.

“don’t be ridiculous, you love to end your night with me.”

“I do, and I love you.” you push your finger into his knee before leaning over and giving him a kiss, “you didn’t have to adjust your life for mine, but you did and I don’t deserve you.”

“you deserve me, every ounce of me was meant to love you. now come on, let’s go to bed.”

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universalhavclosangeles · 2 months ago

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Professional Home AC Installation Los Angeles Services

Get Professional Home AC installation los angeles services in Los Angeles, put your trust in Universal Heating and Air. For all your cooling needs, our expert technicians guarantee dependable solutions and timely. Drop a Call and make an appointment for your repair right now!

#Home AC Installation Los Angeles #emergency air conditioner repair los angeles

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hooked-on-elvis · 10 months ago

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How did Elvis took care of his awesome hair? 🚿🍃

Plus, a quick overview on one of the King's hairdressers and Memphis Mafia man, Larry Geller: How somewhat he was the friend Elvis needed and how Elvis' over-controlling inner circle banned Geller from their surroundings for a while.

I was actually looking if I could find Elvis' haircut name - precisely the type of haircut he had on the '68 Comeback Special and "Charro!" (1968), since I'm a girl and I have zero idea about the names for male haircuts but I just love that haircut he had so much I wanted to talk about it... anyway. But I found an article about Elvis' hair care routine and that sounds very interesting to me, so it might be something you wanna know too.

This is told by Larry Geller, so this means this was Elvis' hair routine starting from mid 60's on, precisely from 1964 to 1967, and possibly also from late 1972 to 1977 *, periods in which Larry was responsible for taking care of the King's hair.

Geller, who will be launching his own line of organic hair products later this year, tested out some of his first custom mixes on Elvis. “I used to go to the health food store and get a benign base shampoo and get some vitamin capsules and pour 99 percent pure aloe vera and other herbs into it, and shake it up,” Geller tells Yahoo Beauty. “That’s what I used on Elvis’ hair. He said to me, right from the get-go, ‘You can do whatever you want with my hair, but one thing — make sure I keep it!’” Source: Yahoo Beauty: Elvis Presley’s Hairstylist Spills the King’s Secrets by Lilit Marcus. The article was shared on a Graceland's website on January 28, 2014.

Elvis, you're the best, man. LOL. Just that comment is worth this entire post. It made me laugh. But the article goes on.

Then there was the daily routine. “I shampooed his hair regularly, usually every day. I would massage his scalp for a few minutes, then brush his hair at least 50 or 60 strokes. I was focused on long-term health of his hair, which was so important,” Geller explains. He also used products like vitamin E and jojoba oil to style Elvis’ hair and replace conditioner. Hairspray was used to set it, with Geller alternating multiple brands so that none of them would dry out Elvis’ coif too much. As for its color, Geller dyed Elvis’ hair every two to three weeks with a L’Oreal formula. What did the two men discuss during all that grooming? Religion, philosophy, books, life, and anything else you can think of. “Elvis had everything,” says Geller. “He was an extraordinary human being. He had the greatest eyes, the greatest voice, fans galore. He also had great hair.”

Elvis in "Frankie and Johnny" and "Spinout", both 1966 movies.

Larry Geller styled Elvis’ hair for: "Roustabout" (1964), Girl Happy (1965), Tickle Me (1965), Harum Scarum (1965), Frankie and Johnny (1966), Paradise, Hawaiian Style (1966), Spinout (1966), Easy Come, Easy Go (1967), Double Trouble (1967), and Clambake (1967). Geller prepared Elvis’ hair for the last time for his funeral in August, 1977.

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Elvis' hair must have been so good smelling and soft. Washed every day, organic products to make it smooth and shiny as it was. 🫠🥹

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Now, if you want to understand why there's a pause in Larry's association with Elvis, here it is:

LARRY GELLER QUITS WORKING FOR ELVIS IN 1967: INDIRECTLY CAUSED BY ELVIS' HEAD INJURY POSTPONING THE FILMING FOR 'CLAMBAKE'.

On March 9, 1967, Elvis was staying in him home in Bel Air, Los Angeles, and one incident (Elvis tripped over a TV cord in his bathroom and banged his head against a porcelain bathtub) caused the beginning of the production for the movie "Clambake", for which he was preparing to, to be postponed. Colonel Parker was fuming when he heard about the need for Elvis to take a couple of weeks of resting to recover from the mild concussion he had. It was a critical moment in Elvis' life. By the time the filming begun, Elvis even put up some weight from his normal 170 lb (77 kg) to 200 lb (91 kg) — I said it before, whenever this happened to Elvis' body it was because he was extremely distressed. He was an emotional eater.

Getting back to the accident, Parker even thought Elvis did it on purpose not to fulfill his Hollywood commitment since Presley clearly was not happy about his movies anymore, something Parker somehow blamed it on Elvis' spiritual quest. He pulled some strings to manipulate Elvis to remove Larry Geller from his inner circle by saying to him that all that spiritual thing was getting too much into his head, distracting him from his business obligations. If not enough Parker said to Presley that Larry Geller was brainwashing him because of some personal agenda he must have had in his mind — it's mentioned by someone, somewhere (i'm sorry, I'm not gonna remember where I've read it now) that Geller was planning on using Elvis' money to open a religious study center or something like that).

Basically, Parker thought Larry was a threat because if Elvis decided in throwing his career away, like some say he was by becoming a preacher, Parker would lose his most profitable and only client. Consequently all the religion and spiritual "shit" (as they called) that Larry Geller had put inside the King's head (as they thought), presenting him with many books and having deep conversations for hours with Elvis about several religious and spiritual subjects but not exclusively that, they also talked about meditation and self improvement as a human beings, astrology and so on, all of that was threatening Parker's plans over Elvis.

But Parker didn't make it on his own. Even Priscilla says in her memoir book that Elvis was obsessively reading non-stop and wanting to share his learning with everybody else, but his friends and herself didn't care about none of this self-improvement and religious talk. His inner circle even looked at Presley's spiritual quest as somewhat annoying, including Priscilla. Their thoughts about Larry Geller were something like "Larry changed his mind. Elvis is not spending time with us as he used to." Ugh!

Nobody actually told Larry to leave, tho, and Elvis wouldn't do such thing if he didn't have a good reason to - until this point Larry was a confidant to him, one of the only people he could talk about life and wonder what was God's plan for him, his true life mission, something Elvis would never cease trying to understand. However, Elvis' inner circle and Colonel Parker begun making Geller feel uncomfortable, unwelcome among the group, while they took Elvis' attention back to them, practically forcing Geller to decide to finally leave and go away for good, and he did it. But it was not something definite.

Many things happened in Elvis' life since Larry Geller and him went different ways but by August 1972, tho, Geller got back in contact in Elvis when he attended one of Presley's concerts in Las Vegas, and from then on Larry begins working for Elvis again, till the end of the King's life in 1977.

#elvis #elvis presley #elvis history #elvis presley history #larry geller #memphis mafia #colonel parker #priscilla beaulieu #priscilla presley #elvis hair #elvis the king #elvis fans #elvis fandom #60s elvis #70s elvis

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numinousmysteries · 10 months ago

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Legacy

This goes AU post-Je Souhaite. Kind of an expansion of what I was exploring in this post on how Mulder and Scully could have had a satisfying ending without children.

[on Ao3] @today-in-fic

Mulder told her to never give up on a miracle. He was right in the end although their miracle wasn’t a child but something far more rare: Two discordant souls coming together to create a union stronger than the sum of its parts.

Once in a Los Angeles hotel room, champagne bubbles fizzing in her mind, Scully whispered in his ear, “I wish we could make a baby this way.”

He froze. He was on top of her, buried deep inside her, his body enveloping hers, and his abrupt pause made her gasp.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean—”

“Shh,” he soothed her. Shifting to balance on one hand, he used the other to tuck a shock of auburn hair behind her ear. “I wish we could, too.”

She tilted her chin up to meet his eyes. He kissed her hard and started moving within her again. If yearning and conviction were strong enough to overcome biological reality, they would have easily sparked life on that plush king bed with its 1,000-thread count sheets. Alas, science defeated faith. She cringed at the irony of wishing for a different outcome, and hoped he wouldn't blame her for not believing enough.

Arriving at the hotel room after midnight and tipsier than either of them had been in years, they neglected to close the blackout curtains. The harsh sunlight woke her far too early the next morning. A pounding in her head and an acidic churn in her stomach weighed down the buoyant rosiness of the previous night.

He stirred alongside her. Both of their bodies were damp and sticky with sweat. The air conditioner kicked on and she felt goose pimples rising on her flesh.

“Morning,” he whispered, squeezing her tighter against him.

Last night, she felt as if she couldn’t get close enough to him. In the backseat of the car on the way back from the movie premiere, her hands were on his chest, his thighs, the bulge in his lap, as his tongue probed her mouth and she inhaled his heady blend of aftershave, cologne, and natural musk. She couldn’t remember how they shed their clothing, just her evening gown and his tux falling away as their bodies sought contact.

In the morning, though, she craved to be alone. Not to escape him, but to run from the implication of her words.The alcohol had smudged certain details of the evening but she remembered what she said to him about conceiving a child. And, as much as she wished he didn’t, she knew he had to as well.

With her head on his sternum, she felt him clearing his throat.

“I know we never really talked about it, the IVF, afterwards,” he started. “But if that’s still something you want, I would want it, too.”

“There’s not going to be another round of IVF,” she said, her voice raspy. “No more ova, remember?”

“I didn’t mean that specifically,” he said. They’d been intimate for months but this was the one topic they still danced around with their old, overly formal remoteness. “I meant having a child another way. There are donor eggs, surrogacy, adoption—”

“I know,” she cut him off. “It’s still so raw, though.”

“I understand,” he said. He kissed the top of her head and she realized they were both crying. “But I want you to know I’m open to any of it. If and when you’re ever ready.”

��Thank you,” she said. “I appreciate that.”

And yet, weeks turned to months and she never felt ready to face another loss. She still dreamt of little girls with her hair and his bottom lip; little boys with his nose and her eyes. But the pain lessened as time went on. Once she let him in, she felt less alone. Together, their lives felt full.

II.

She knew he hadn’t been close to his mother, but after Teena’s death—and the concurrent shift in their relationship—she made more of an effort to involve him with her family. At first, he resisted. She suspected he feared being an imposition or, worse, a tangible reminder of all his quest had taken away from her and her family. She could meet his stubbornness with her own, though, and in the end he couldn’t turn her down.

They began with casual dinners at her mother’s and, just short of a year into their relationship, she managed to convince him to fly with her to Bill’s for Christmas. Matthew, nearly three, had been joined by a younger sister, Caitlin, only a few months old on their first visit. With Caitlin in her arms, Scully shifted her gaze between the unbroken peace of the infant’s sleeping face and Mulder’s worried facade. With her widest smile and honest eyes she attempted wordlessly conveying to him that she was truly happy. No one offered the baby to Mulder to hold and he didn’t volunteer. For that, she felt thankful. As content as she was, she wasn’t ready to face the image of what might have been.

They visited more frequently over the years, becoming regular fixtures in her nephew and niece’s lives. They went to kindergarten graduations, birthday parties, little league games, and dance recitals. When the kids were a little older, they took them out for the day, just the four of them, to the zoo, the aquarium, the beach.

Bill was a football fan but his son preferred the slower, cerebral rhythm of baseball.

“Good,” Bill said, eyeing Mulder on the couch discussing the Padres odds of making it into the playoffs with Matthew. “You can watch this with him. It’s too boring for me.”

And Mulder did, for hours at a time even though it wasn’t his team. The boy’s wonder and curiosity in the game mattered more than who won or lost. He saw so much of Scully in her nephew’s precocious, methodical nature. Matthew even corrected his math.

Everyone else was surprised by how good Mulder was with the kids, but she never had doubts. She’d seen him on cases interacting with children at the worst possible moments of their lives—after losing a parent or a sibling, or witnessing a heinous crime—but he always approached them with respect, kindness, and patience. Knowing what it was like to feel alone and misunderstood, he gave them the space they needed.

Aware of her infertility, her family knew better than to whisper to her that he’d be a wonderful father, but that didn't stop her from hearing the words reverberate in her own mind. But they were merely echoes bouncing off the cold walls of a barren canyon. Unable to find purchase, they dissipated and faded away into the ether.

It was only once when a three-year-old Caitlin became inconsolable for reasons that were impossible for adult minds to decipher and would only accept comforting from her mother that Scully felt the emptiness in her arms as she handed the toddler over to Tara.

An hour later, the girl’s mood lifted just as mysteriously as it fell and she was eager to show her aunt her Barbie doll’s new wardrobe. Scully sat cross legged on the floor switching out outfits for so long that her legs fell asleep and Mulder had to help her up. As he lifted her to stand, he softly kissed her neck, just beneath her ear.

Once, Tara was even able to wrangle the kids on her own when Bill was at sea, and they flew out to DC to visit. They stayed at her mother’s—Scully’s apartment that she now shared with Mulder was too small to house them all—but Mulder and Scully spent nearly every waking moment with Matthew and Caitlin. The city they walked every day took on a new tint through the children’s excited eyes. Who knew there were so many interactive exhibits at the National Air and Space Museum? That the pizza place on her block threw in candy with your order if you picked up a child’s size pie?

They fell into bed exhausted but giggling over the silly comments the kids had entertained them with each day.

Their visit ended with airport hugs and kisses. As they returned to their car in the parking lot, she felt a sinking sense of guilt.

“You could have this for real, you know,” she said. “With someone else.”

For an instant, their roles reversed and he looked at her like she’d lost her mind. “It’s only you,” he vowed. “You and me. Forever.”

As jet planes soared above them bringing families together or drawing them apart, he wrapped his arms around her and held her tight. This was family, too, she knew. Two hearts that had found each other.

III.

The only time she ever felt glad they weren’t able to have children was when they learned the date of colonization. She’d already seen one daughter’s life cut short by the work of these horrible men and she couldn’t watch another die. If the IVF had worked, their child would only barely have made it to its teenage years.

By the time they learned the date, they only had five years left to fight. To thwart their efforts, their enemies had them both framed for crimes and they became fugitives. Cut off from the resources of the bureau and even the power to use their own names, their struggle intensified, but they never gave up.

The Gunmen helped them go deep underground. For years, they exchanged old fake identities for new ones and took up disposable backstories in dozens of nameless towns across the country. Once either of them picked up even a passing whiff of threat, they’d pack their bags and leave one life behind for the next. She thanked God she didn’t have to force a child to live like this.

In another life, these would have been the years she devoted to bedtime stories, school pickups, and soccer practices. Instead, she spent them corresponding with others in the resistance through encrypted emails sharing research findings and making plans.

With a year to go, she finally developed a promising vaccine formulation using samples of the extraterrestrial virus stolen from a syndicate lab by a scientist sympathetic to their cause. She tested her inoculation on mice and stray dogs. All the creatures showed immunity.

Mulder insisted on being her first human test subject.

“Absolutely not,” she argued. “You were exposed to the virus in that gulag. There’s no way to know how either the vaccine or this particular strain of contagion would interact with your existing antibodies. Besides, the resistance can’t afford to lose you. I can’t afford to lose you.”

Ultimately, Frohiked stepped up.

“I’m the eldest,” he said, when the five of them met up. “I have the least time remaining.”

The rest of them started to dispute but he waved his hands to cut them off.

“I’m disposable,” he continued. “Scully’s the only one with the medical know-how, Mulder’s got his connections and that spooky sixth sense that’ll come in handy. Byers’s has the bland face of comforting authority that’ll convince everyone to line up for this wacky new shot, and Langly’s a decent enough hacker to break down all the digital fortresses you’ll need to penetrate.”

“This better not be some ploy to get me to admit your kung fu is so far superior to mine that we can’t possibly lose you,” Langly deadpanned.

“Not a chance, hippie,” Frohike huffed. “It’s just that you’re allergic to bees so we all know the anaphylaxis would take you out long before the virus had a chance.”

So he rolled up his sleeve and let her give him the injection. She waited for a crude joke as she swabbed his deltoid with alcohol and then depressed the plunger of the syringe, but Frohike remained serious and stoic. He’d been a good friend to them over the years and she didn’t underestimate him.

They waited two weeks for the vaccine to take effect, and then she tested his antibodies. According to her research, his levels appeared high enough to fend off the virus. They locked him in the basement of a rural home they’d rented with a reliable Wi-Fi connection, a week’s worth of food and water, and a hive of genetically engineered Africanized honey bees.

Stung to shit, he texted the rest of them later that night.

Any symptoms? Scully wrote.

All copacetic so far, he responded. My faith in the good doctor remains.

Godspeed, Byers replied.

A week later, they unlocked the basement door. With the exception of scattered pink welts from the bee stings that had already begun to heal, he emerged unscathed. No gelatinous tissue. No gestating alien.

“Dr. Scully,” he said, grinning. “Your patient lives.”

Byers and Langly whooped and applauded.

Mulder kissed her on the forehead. “I knew you could do it,” he said. There might be hope after all.

Scully argued they had to find a way to deliver the vaccine surreptitiously, that no one would believe their claims of an upcoming alien invasion. But Mulder insisted it had to be a choice. That if they inoculated the population without consent, they’d be no better than the syndicate of men who secretly carried out their tests on unwilling, innocent citizens for decades. Although she feared his plan would result in unnecessary death, she didn’t deny he was in the right morally.

As word of a successful vaccine spread, more and more scientists defected from the syndicate to join the resistance. Mulder and Scully never fully trusted them, wary that they’d found their consciences a little too late, but still welcomed the information they had to offer. They mapped where the bees would be released and charted the timeline of the ships’ arrivals.

In the months leading up to the date, Scully became the public face of the resistance, using her scientific background and medical credentials to plead their case and insist on widespread vaccine uptake. She published their old case reports, not sparing the public any of the gory imagery of what laid ahead if they failed to act.

Miraculously, it worked. Enough of the populace accepted the vaccine that, paired with a syndicate significantly weakened by the resistance, they were able to ward off the invasion. The ships were picked up on radar systems but they must have been able to detect their accomplices’ failure on the ground and they quickly reversed course.

Mulder and Scully’s names were cleared and they were lauded as heroes after spending years as outlaws.

As they sat on their porch and watched the sun set on that unseasonably warm but otherwise unremarkable December evening, the old emptiness threatened to temper the joy of victory.

“Our children could have had a future,” she said.

“Scully, you gave all the children a future.”

He leaned in to kiss her. The world didn’t end.

IV.

Life went on, which meant its shadow, death, kept up its work as well. It didn’t feel fair that she only got to enjoy a few more years with her mother after they were free to come out of hiding, but at least Maggie Scully maintained her sharp mind until the very end.

Only in these last few days, on a steady morphine drip to ease her transition into the next world, did the loving relatives streaming in to visit her bedside start blurring together.

“You’re such a good mother,” she said to Scully, after spending an afternoon with her, Matthew, and Caitlin. “You’ve raised them so well.”

Scully didn’t have the heart to correct her, to remind her that these were Bill and Tara’s children, not her own. So she smiled and kissed the thin skin on her mother’s brow.

“I learned from you,” she said.

Her life was rich, even without children. She had Mulder, her extended family, and her work. She didn’t know if her mother would ever understand that, so she let her die believing her daughter was happy in a way that she could comprehend.

After his stroke, she knew they didn't have much time left together. He was still the same man she met and fell in love with so long ago, still possessed his wit and encyclopedic memory of all things paranormal, only operated at a slightly slower frequency.

So it didn’t surprise her when she woke up one morning and his body was next to her, but he was gone. She had nearly lost him so many times over the years, but when it finally happened she felt oddly at peace. He had lived a long life. He had been vindicated, defeated his enemies, and even saved the world. They had spent decades at each other’s side, the intensity of their love never fading. Still, a lifetime together was not enough time.

She wanted to stay in the house, it was theirs after all, but it became harder and harder to keep up on her own. Caitlin offered for her to come live with her and her husband in Southern California. Their own children were all grown up and on their own, so they had plenty of room for her. She liked the idea of returning to the Pacific of her youth, so she agreed and began clearing out the house.

They didn’t have much. There was no fortune, no priceless family heirlooms, but there was neat, lawyer-signed paperwork dividing what they did have between Matthew, Caitlin, and their children. She was glad to help them in some way, however small.

She didn’t mind getting rid of their belongings. Her childhood as an itinerant Navy brat and her years on the run with Mulder had taught her not to value material things. But then there were the files. Their life’s work, cataloged in dozens of cabinets in their home office. Their true legacy.

A few weeks before moving, she got the email.

Dear Dr. Scully,

My name is Tegan Marks and I’m a special agent with the FBI. I read about your husband’s recent passing and I wanted to express my sincere condolences. I must admit that I’ve long been an admirer of both of you, ever since learning of your work in preventing the alien colonization of 2012.

As you know, the X-Files division has been closed since you and Agent Mulder departed from the bureau. However, that hasn’t stopped reports of unexplained phenomena from coming in. We just don’t have a unit or any resources devoted to investigating them. While I’m currently assigned to the violent crimes section, I’ve petitioned my supervisors to reopen the X-Files and they’ve been receptive.

In order to establish a thorough database of this type of phenomena and its history, I was hoping to access your files to scan and digitize. I would happily return the physical copies to you once I’m done.

I hope to hear from you soon.

Best, Special Agent Tegan Marks

Scully replied that Agent Marks was welcome to come and pick up the files anytime, no need to return them.

She showed up excitedly a week later. She was so young—probably no older than Scully was the day she was assigned to the X-Files herself—and so full of passion and curiosity. If aliens had colonized the planet in 2012, Agent Marks never would have been born. Scully led her to the home office where wall to wall filing cabinets held the secrets of her life’s work.

“Oh wow,” Marks said, surveying the office. “I think this is more than I can fit in my car. I might have to make a few trips.”

“Take as much time as you need,” Scully said.

“And I’m happy to bring them back once I’ve digitized them.”

“No,” Scully stopped her. “Please, keep them. They belong with someone who will put them to use.”

Scully watched as Marks hauled folder after folder to her car. She loaded the backseat and trunk to the brim but had barely reached the M’s for Mothmen.

“I don’t know how to thank you for this,” she said.

“I should be thanking you,” Scully said. “I know nothing would make my husband happier than to know that these were with someone who wanted to carry on our legacy. Before you head back, would you like to join me for some coffee or tea?”

“Tea would be lovely,” Marks said and followed her back into the kitchen.

“I’m honestly glad you reached me when you did,” Scully said as she boiled the kettle. “I’m in the process of downsizing and I didn’t know what to do with all of these.”

“Well, I’m glad I got in touch,” said Marks. “I’m looking forward to diving into these.”

“I can’t believe they’re reopening the X-Files after all these years.” Scully shook her head. “Do you have a partner?”

“I’m in the process of selecting someone now. It’s been challenging, though.”

Scully nodded, indicating for her to go on.

“Well, I’m obviously very open-minded about the paranormal but not many other agents are. I imagine this work would be much easier with a fellow believer.”

“Hmm,” Scully said, pausing to sip her tea. “You might be surprised. Mulder and I rarely saw eye-to-eye on our cases but I think that challenging each other is what made us such a good team. Just make sure you find someone you actually enjoy disagreeing with.”

“Thanks for the advice,” Marks said. “Although I don’t think partnerships like that are all that common.”

“No,” Scully said, smiling. “I don’t suppose they are.”

After they finished their tea, Scully saw the younger woman to the door and watched as she drove away; their legacy in good hands.

#xfiles #txf #msr #xf fanfic #the x files #xfiles fanfic #x files

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ai-seo-expert · 1 year ago

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AC Not Working? Here Are 5 Common Issues & Solutions

If your air conditioner is not working, it can be frustrating. However, some issues can be fixed by yourself. Here are 5 common AC problems and solutions.

Clogged Air Filter: A clogged air filter is a common cause of AC malfunction. Regularly checking and replacing it can prevent overheating.

Low Refrigerant: When the refrigerant levels drop due to a leak, the AC may stop cooling. A professional inspection and refill can fix the issue.

Faulty Thermostat: A malfunctioning thermostat can cause an AC to stop cooling properly. Have a professional inspect and test it to ensure proper functioning.

Dirty Condenser Coils: The condenser coils in your AC system release heat from inside your home into the outside air. If these coils become dirty or clogged, they won't release heat effectively, causing your AC to stop cooling properly. To fix this, clean or replace the condenser coils as needed to ensure proper functioning.

Malfunctioning Compressor: The compressor in an AC system compresses refrigerant gas into liquid form and releases it back into gas form to circulate cool air throughout your home. If the compressor malfunctions or stops working, you’ll need a professional to inspect and repair it for it to work correctly.

Overall, proper maintenance is key to keeping your AC running smoothly. If you keep up with regular maintenance and checks, you can prevent these common AC problems from occurring.

#air conditioning repair Los Angeles #air conditioning contractor Los Angeles #air conditioning installation Los Angeles #ac maintenance Los Angeles #air conditioner service Los Angeles #ac services company Los Angeles

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atallephoculary · 8 months ago

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—- G o s p e l —

[ @extristitiavenit ]

Hope County was truly a beautiful place; the cascading mountains and rolling hills of fertile farmland seemed to stretch for miles and miles, disappearing into lines of thick spring pines that dotted the horizon. It seemed like it was such an idyllic place; Marion often found herself reminiscing about her childhood home in Baton Rouge, Louisiana whilst on her lunch breaks due to the overwhelming amount of very beautiful but very foreign scenery… A swampy transplant into an arid tundra, a fish out of water. Being sent all over the country was hard enough as it was, but never being able to stay in one place long enough to grow some roots was harder. It was always something- a new job, a boyfriend, loss of income— something- something- something… Deputy Fuller had hoped that a change of scenery into the God fearing farmlands would strike down whatever wandering roots that would grab soil. Maybe this could actually be the place she settled down and called it good. Maybe it was the place where she would live and die quietly after she finished with whatever dumb prospect this job was.

The station was quiet, though as usual there was a gentle chatter over the radio between squad cars and her co-workers idle conversations flowing through the air in a gentle hum while the air conditioning unit whirs quietly overhead. As nice as it was to have such down time, it did put a slight alarm through her. Could it be quiet here for longer than a day? Probably not- there was always something happening over the radio, with those Peggies meandering around the valley and mountains- the ‘Eden’s Gate’ project, or whatever.. She really didn’t care. It didn’t affect her life, (well- it did- it did so much she ended up in Hope County, Montana to fill in a position that was, in fact, permanently vacant); and the ways it did affect her were easily written off with a nice blunt and a cold drink at her small cabin after work. Quitting time was always on her mind- her hazy green hues darting over to the white bubble clock that hung over the dirty front door. 5:15 p.m.- another 15 minutes until she could clock out and head home… Outside, a caravan of white vehicles with that stupid cross painted on the sides of them head down the main thoroughfare- honking and blasting their music loud enough to be heard all the way inside the station offices- “Keep your rifle by our side!” The tune hangs high in the air like a flag, and soon the cacophony of tires and engines and guitars fade into the distance until there was nothing left but the gentle clicking of the clock and the hum of the air conditioner. Marion rolled her eyes, stretched her arms up above her head and let off a loud yawn; hands unceremoniously rubbing her face and pushing back her mess of black curly hair. What a boring day. Nothing but paperwork and emails, two phone calls from the F.A.N.G center and one from the Chief to keep an eye out for a package that may or may not show up. Again. What a thrilling job; (Junior) Deputy Sheriff and she may as well have been a fucking secretary.

Another shift, another day completed; clocking out with an actual time punch was always one of the best parts of the job, one of those ‘little things’ her therapist back in Los Angeles told her when she was in her early years of being on the force.. What a lifetime ago, freshly 18 and just wanting to do the right thing— a road to hell paved with the best of intentions.. The old machine reams the paper with a clunk and Marion is out the door with her bag and glasses in hand, headed out to the old Ford truck in the parking lot.. The sun was setting by now, the sky being painted in brilliant chunks of reds and oranges and pinks.. A nice view for the drive home too, tires whirring down the evenly paved road down into Holland Valley. Farm land, for miles and miles. At least, she thought, it didn’t stink like some parts of the country she had stayed in.. These people out here took good care of their livestock and it showed. When the engine of the trucks begun to rattle and almost scream with uncertainty, it made her flicker back to reality and ease off the road and onto the shoulder; smoke flooding from the hood of the car as the lever under her seat was pressed with trepidation and concern for how she was now going to get home.

Standing over the fried engine, lit cigarette between her lips and flashlight in her southpaw, she felt like a real tool standing out there in the middle of bum-fuck nowhere, nothing but trees and fields and cars that scooted by almost hurriedly as the night settled into the valley. Marion didn’t blame them- things tended to get sketchy at best when night came.

“Aaaah fuckin’… Ya’ piece of shit, perfect fuckin’ timing to die out on me huh. You juss’ loooooove causing me issues.” The bayou woman scoffed and slammed the hood down after settling on a diagnosis: Fried radiator and snapped belt, transmission broken. Absolute destruction. Leaning now with her back to the warmed metal of the hood, she idly flicks through her phone— no signal— no reach. There was nothing out here, and she wasn’t exactly able to take a radio from the station. That was priorly a write up. So with a scoff and a groan and a few more expletives, Marion cleared the cab of her belongings and shoved them unceremoniously into her leather backpack, turned off the lights and slammed the truck door closed with a thud. There was nothing now but the eerie silence and the air current moving through the trees- if she didn’t like the dark at home, she surely hated it when outside. There was a certain fear that comes with walking alone at night, but hopefully, hopefully, the 13 mile walk in almost pitch darkness wouldn’t be that bad.

#| Gospel of Baptism — John }#And we should. — Starters }#| @extristitiavenit }#(( || And awaaaaaayy we go! ))

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