#it's just drywall and studs and paint

[phoenixiancrystallist]

DAY DUNNO. 356? DOESN'T MATTER, FUCKIN COLD, FINGERS HURT. -40°F WINDCHILLS ARE BULLSHIT.

I did line art experiments on Prompto and I don't know what I think of it. I'll make a decision tomorrow after I do the same stuff with Ignis's lines and see what it looks like as a whole.

[cuubism]

Physical therapy au part 7. (abuse cw)

--

Dream wakes to find his face still smushed against Hob’s chest, and freezes, expecting an instinctive rush of panic at being suddenly so close to another person.

But it doesn’t come. He still only feels… relaxed. Hob is warm against him, still asleep, his arm wrapped loosely around Dream’s shoulders. And it’s… good? It’s nice. To wake up and feel calm. To not feel as though he needs to remove himself from the situation as quickly as possible.

Hob stirs beside him, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Surprise flashes across his face as he turns to look at Dream, but it quickly softens. “Hey, you.”

“Hello.”

Hob pets Dream’s hair, pushing it behind his ear, even though his own, longer hair is far more disheveled. “Sleep alright?”

“Yes.” He didn’t even dream. It was welcome, he needed the peace.

Hob kisses him lightly on the lips. “Good. You want coffee? Tea? Breakfast?”

Dream considers him blearily, then shakes his head in amusement. “Do you usually bound up out of bed with such immediate enthusiasm and zest for life?”

Hob bites his lower lip in thought. “Um. Sometimes?”

“Then you will have to forgive the fact that it takes me significantly longer to become alive again in the morning.”

Though Dream also has not had much reason to want to get out of bed, not until lately.

Hob laughs. “Alright. You sort yourself out. I’ll get something started.”

He gives Dream another light kiss, and ruffles his hair, then rolls out of bed and heads off with a truly unreasonable amount of vim. Dream just smiles to himself as he lays back in bed.

It will be good to have a few minutes to think. Or perhaps he’ll just go back to sleep for a while. He doesn’t think Hob will be upset. And what a relieving feeling that is.

—

Once Hob’s put coffee on and gotten out ingredients for breakfast, he finds himself turning to Dream’s painting, propped on top of the bookshelf. It’s so beautiful. So charming. Of course Hob wants to hang it on his wall. It might embarrass Dream a little bit, but he will know how much Hob appreciates this painting.

He’s not great at waiting, and he has time to kill while Dream's getting ready—hopefully a lot of time, the poor thing looks like he needs more beauty sleep—so he grabs his toolkit and goes about finding a spot on the wall to hang the painting. He's found a decently-placed stud behind the drywall and is about to start hammering a few nails in--he's not using some flimsy method and risking the painting falling--when the bedroom door opens. Not long after, he hears Dream come out into the hall.

"Hob?" he calls. "Do you have any--"

He freezes in the entryway.

Hob turns to face him properly. "Hm? Any what?"

But Dream is standing stock still, every muscle in his body frozen, staring at him.

Hob looks between him and the painting, which is now leaning against the wall at his feet. Is he that bothered by Hob hanging the painting? He doesn't actually have to put it up, he just thought--

But. No. Dream is staring at him.

"Something the matter?" Hob asks, walking over to him. Maybe he's regretting staying over, maybe he wasn't ready--

Dream goes, impossibly, more tense, freezing like he might be able to go invisible if he just doesn't move. Like a prey animal.

Hob's properly starting to panic now, and still doesn't know what he's done, but he raises his hands in surrender.

Dream finally unlocks, but not to explain or come towards him. No, his gaze darts from Hob's face to his hands and then he bolts, scrambles backwards and disappears into Hob's bedroom, door slamming shut behind him.

Heart pattering, still having no idea he's done, Hob lets his hands fall--

--and realizes he's still holding that hammer.

He drops it with a start. That-- that must have done it, mustn't it? It’s the only thing he can think of.

But... why?

He goes over to the bedroom door and knocks softly. "...Dream?"

No response.

He knocks again, louder. "Dream?"

No reply, but he can hear Dream’s shaky breathing, like he’s sitting with his back against the door.

Hob sits down on the floor, leaning his head against the door. His heart squeezes with guilt for upsetting Dream, even if logically he knows that he didn't do anything wrong, just caught him at a bad angle that he didn't know was there.

At least he stayed by the door. He could have run into the bathroom or gone as far away from Hob as possible but he didn’t. That’s something.

“Dream,” he calls, knocks lightly on the door to show he’s still there. “Just breathe, sweetheart, it’s alright, yeah?”

This isn’t his area, he’s a physical therapist, not a mental health one. But he’s trying his best.

“Not going to hurt you,” he goes on. He knows Dream knows that, but he clearly doesn’t remember it now. “I promise. You’re safe. It’s alright.”

He still doesn’t get a response, so he stays where he is. Speaks softly to him through the door. Maybe it’ll help. He wishes he just knew the right thing to say, but it’s not that easy. Maybe one day he will just know.

For now, he just keeps talking.

--

Dream runs. He runs and runs, tripping over himself. He-- he can't feel his hand-- no, that isn't right, he can feel it, but it's tingly and wrong and his fingers are all twisted and won't listen to him and each movement is a scream of pain pain pain all the way up his arm, and--

Why would he do that? Why would he--?

He's out on the street. When did he get here? He doesn't remember leaving, only the rush of adrenaline and panic that had propelled him-- his heart is still pounding-- the certainty that no matter how much his lover had argued and justified look I'm sorry, that was too far, but you get it don't you? you get why I had to? that Dream was about to get his head bashed in next-- he had dropped the hammer but Dream could no longer see his hands without it--

Dream, don't be stupid-- no, you can't leave-- hands on him-- no, he's free now, he's walking, he has his phone in his pocket but he can't reach it because his only usable hand is clutching his art portfolio, he doesn't want to look at the mangled wreck of the other one.

He has his art. Most of it. Some of it. Whatever had been stored in easy reach. He had recent pieces still drying he'd had to leave behind. He'd only had a moment to grab things and run, the briefest of moments when his once-lover had hesitated with regret over what he'd done.

He doesn't know where he's meant to go now.

"Dream, honey..."

Death's voice. Had he gone to her flat? He doesn't remember. But no, this is the hospital waiting room--he doesn't remember how he got here. Perhaps his sister brought him. His hand is agony, but it's not even bleeding. Shouldn't it be bleeding?

Wait. Where is his art portfolio?

He spins around in his chair, but he doesn't see it-- he can't-- this is the only thing he has-- "Death, where--?"

"Shh, relax, we left your things at my flat, remember?"

He doesn't. He doesn't remember. He doesn’t remember getting here. He only remembers the pain. The fear. The threat, the—

“Dream, love, can you hear me?”

Death’s voice again? But no, she’s gone, and he’s sitting on the floor, his back to the door, and that’s Hob talking on the other side.

Hob.

He looks at his hand, flexes his fingers, curls it into a fist. He’s fine. He’s fine. It’s been months. His hand is healed now. Partly thanks to Hob.

“Dream?” Hob calls again.

Finally, Dream finds his voice. "Please don't come in."

He needs— he needs to compose himself, he doesn’t want to be seen like this—

“Not coming in,” Hob promises.

Dream pauses. Is that what he wants? Or is it what he used to want?

He swipes the tears away, moves away from the door, and reaches up to open it.

Hob is sitting on the floor, also right by the door. He looks at Dream with wide eyes, then moves forward tentatively. When Dream doesn’t move away, Hob pulls him into a hug.

Dream sobs, pressing his face into Hob’s shoulder. The tears he’d tried to quell come flooding back.

“Shhh,” Hob soothes, stroking his hair. “It’s okay, love. I have you.”

“I am being ridiculous,” Dream whispers.

“Nah. You’re alright. Don’t worry about it.” He kisses the side of Dream’s head. “Promise you. It’s okay.”

“You won’t hurt me,” Dream says, still quiet. He’s not certain if he’s convincing himself, or if he’s trying to convince Hob that he isn’t afraid of him.

“I won’t,” Hob agrees.

“I know that,” Dream says.

“I know. I know. You're okay.” He squeezes Dream tight, rocks him lightly. “Do you want to get up? I don't know about you, but my ass is suffering sitting on the floor. And you haven’t even gotten to have breakfast or anything.”

Dream manages a small laugh. “No. And I'm sure whatever you made is delicious."

"Didn't finish it yet. Can still be fresh. Come on."

He helps Dream up, and Dream clings to his side, feeling wobbly. He stays stuck against Hob as he cooks, feeling excessively clingy, but unable to help himself. He watches Hob's hands, now blessedly hammer-free. He wonders if Hob would have taken the hammer to his ex-boyfriend's head had he been there in that moment. He doesn't know if that's a healthy fantasy to indulge in. But it tastes delicious.

He's still thinking about it when Hob sits him down and makes him eat some eggs and toast. It's only once he's finished that Hob asks, "What happened?"

Dream still has not told Hob the entire story of what happened, so of course Hob does not know what he inadvertently set off. It feels shameful to say. He should not be afraid of Hob. Isn't. Nor should he let himself be caught by old memories.

Nevertheless, he clears his throat, and relays in halting detail the story of that day. It still frightens him to think about. His home then had never exactly been a comforting or peaceful space but he had never been hurt. And then a switch had flipped and everything changed.

When he's finished, Hob looks ill. Runs his hand stressfully through his hair, looking over at where the painting is propped against the wall. "I figured it must have been the hammer but I didn't know why," he says--mostly to himself, Dream thinks.

Then he takes Dream's hands on the table. "That's one of the worst things I've ever heard, I'm so sorry."

Dream looks down at their joined hands. "It's in the past." It's not, though. Not really.

"Even so." He kisses Dream's hands, clasps them tight. Then pulls him to his feet. "Come on. We'll watch some TV or something, decompress. Unless you wanted to talk about it more right now?"

Dream is too tired for any more talking at the moment. Telling that wretched tale has taken everything out of him. "Not particularly."

So Hob just leads him over to the couch. On the way, he stops and sets the painting back on top of the shelf. Dream wouldn't be surprised if Hob waited until he was gone before trying to hang it up again. The thought puts a lump in his throat.

He lies down on the couch and lays his head in Hob's lap, and doesn't pay any attention to the movie Hob puts on as background noise. He's exhausted, and thinks he might go back to sleep--but after several minutes of Hob petting his hair, he finds himself tearing up again instead.

He hasn't cried much, since. It always felt like that would mean accepting the full reality of the situation. Now, he can't help it, but it feels... not good, quite, but perhaps... relieving. Perhaps he's allowed to be upset about it. For so long he had felt like it was all his fault, like he should have known something something terrible would happen, should have picked up on it. But perhaps he's allowed to feel hurt regardless of whether he could have done something better.

Hob doesn't say anything, just lets him cry, stroking his hair. This isn't particularly how Dream wanted this date to go. He was hoping it would be nice and normal. But he'd rather be sad with Hob than be alone.

As long as Hob just lets him stay here, then perhaps it will be alright.

--

Hob doesn't pay much attention to the film, he's too focused on Dream. He keeps methodically stroking his hair, thinking. He feels sick over everything Dream's told him. He's wishing he hit Dream's ex with a bat instead of just punching him. It probably wouldn't have been the smartest move, but it's tempting anyway.

When the movie's almost finished, and Dream seems to have calmed down, he finally manages to ask the question that's been stuck in his head since Dream told the story of fleeing his home.

“Dream?” he says. “How much of your things were you actually able to take with you when you left your old flat?”

Dream turns to look up at him. He's still lying across Hob's lap. “Not very much. The clothes I was wearing. My phone and wallet—fortunately, for replacing all of that would have been nightmarish. And I grabbed my art portfolio as well.”

“Nothing else?”

Dream shakes his head. “I still have my keys, assuming he has not changed the locks, but I have not been back. Most of it is replaceable, anyway.”

Most of it, Hob thinks. Except things like gifts, and sentimental items, and documents. And his art.

“Is some of your art still there?”

Hesitantly, Dream nods. “Works in progress. Larger pieces that I could not carry. And sketchbooks, and the like.” He pauses, then says more firmly, as if convincing himself. “It is not worth going back.”

It might not be worth going back for Dream. But Hob’s not afraid of his piece of shit ex.

He’s getting the fucking art.

[caterjunes]

i was taking off a lightswitch cover plate to paint and it was REAL hard to get one of the screws out. and then it came out at just a totally crazy angle, like 20° off of normal. so i was like. ok i will investigate what's making this happen. and. it looks like Prev Owners had basically attached the box to the stud (normal), wired & screwed the two switches to the box (normal), drywalled around it (normal, and then?? gone wild with joint compound or plaster??

and plastered the box INTO the drywall (NOT normal) leaving the switches basically cemented in place on the edges (i.e. not adjustable to fit the lightswitch cover plate, which is why it was so hard to get off). and worse yet leaving the electrical box with numerous large balls of dried plaster glops rattling around inside it or wedged against the switches!!

so i unscrewed & chipped out the switches & fished all the plaster balls out, and i scraped off the edges where they should be able to adjust slightly so there's not a perfectly-fitting depression in the plaster that they lock into. and then spent like 5 minutes wiggling them back & forth minutely until they fit the lightswitch cover properly 👍

[booksandchainmail]

Pale 9.9

With some altitude, it gave her some distance from Kennet, to see if she felt her mental or emotional state changing any.  This was a weakness.  Being caught by surprise by her own emotions was an embarrassing weakness, when it led to crying fits in front of tons of students and teachers who she might be working with in some capacity for the rest of her life. 

I mean. I want to make an argument about emotional health here, but I personally have to agree. Crying in front of other people does feel like an embarrassing weakness. And being disconnected enough from your own emotions that you can't see it coming is a nightmare.

She was able to do a test run of her own glamour trick, because Lucy hadn’t broken down exactly how to do the multiple fox thing, and she wanted to try things. [...] She had an arrangement of surrounding drawings of crows in sub-circles, smudges of glamour, and a starburst of radiating triangles and rotating lines.

Went back to Lucy doing the foxes thing, and there was none of this, just twisting the glamour around. Verona tends to default to diagrams more than the other girls, understandably for an artist and seeing how intuitive it seems to be for her.

It felt like the end of summer was a huge project deadline and the others wanted her to get a Demesne but the idea wasn’t coming together in her head or her heart. She’d floated the idea of doing the familiar ritual instead, intentionally unbalancing how they operated, and Lucy hadn’t seemed keen.

yeah. @lipstickchainsaw made a good point about Demesne fitting Verona from a character arc/theme angle, and I've come around to it from a reader's perspective, but in-universe I think this is not a great fit to push for.

He continued, not seeming to care much.  “Can you pull something out of the freezer to start defrosting for dinner?  That’ll take an hour, and you could get started on painting in the basement in the meantime.  We can make a night of it.”

Man, he just does not interact in any other way than assigning her chores. I mean, I guess there's also guilt trips. But there's no concern, no interest in what she's been up to, not even anything about how she's been behaving. He just shoves his way in to ask her to get something out of the freezer, which is a very easy task to do himself!

She’d already done a lot of the work with her dad looming over her to remove a wall that had been studs and bracing with nothing else.  Opening up this big room.  She’d also scraped up and sanded off the worst lumps of paint and things that would make the floorboards sit wrong. The walls were drywall, and she’d done most of the work putting that in, using the little levers that went on the floor and had to be stood on with both feet to lift the drywall up off the ground. Then she’d done the screws on the bottom half, carefully maneuvering from her perch on the little lever, so they wouldn’t fall back to the floor and tear where the screws were already in. After that she’d smeared stuff into the gaps, so it was one smooth, off-white surface, more or less ready for paint.

Did Verona's dad do literally any of the work in this basement?

She could never do what Estrella allegedly did, and juggle this jumble of relationships, alliances, enemies, experiments, studies, investigations, and critical moves.

Estrella also has ~5 years of age, ~15 years of experience, and an inherited structure for handling this.

They needed each of them to do one of the big three rituals and they needed each of them to have a specialty and Verona didn’t have either of those things.

I think Verona's doing pretty well in terms of the practice, Avery's really the only one who's leaned into a specific field, while Verona is a very good generalist who acts as support during fights. As for picking a specific field... I know Dabbling is seen as a lesser form of practice, someone who lacks the focus or resources to pursue a field in depth, very much a "master of none" scenario. But the flipside of that is something I remember from Pact, that a practitioner who knows sufficient fields in sufficient depth is known as a Sorcerer, and considered very powerful.

More stuff for the pile of fuck.  Right.  Instead of letting it pile up, Verona quickly sent a text to Brie, asking what Zed liked.

good time management!

This, at least, was a project that could cut through the paralyzing ‘pile of fuck’, a way to help the other two, which meant they could get their own stuff done, think of the things she was missing. It felt good. The diagram felt good.

It's good to see Verona focus on her own strength for once, and what she brings to the group

“And… attic, middle of the house, basement, top to bottom, we need this.  Amen.” There was a long pause. “Amen?” Verona asked. “I’m so hot I can’t think straight. I’m going to go shower and consider dying of embarrassment.”

I'm picturing this moment in one of those compilations of every time people say "You too" to servers saying "Enjoy your meal".

Also, now that I think of it, being homeschooled probably saved Avery from accidentally calling a teacher Mom or Dad as a kid. That seems like the kind of thing that would happen to her.

“You’re living off of me, Verona.  I’m paying for the electricity, I’m paying for the water you’re drinking, I’m paying for this house, I’m in debt for this house, as a matter of fact, because it’s important to me that you have a nice home.  Those clothes on your back?  With paint on your shorts and drawings scribbled on your shoes?”

that's just basic parent responsibilities! You don't get to take credit for all those frozen meals and the creepy house that always needs work. Also, interesting that he blames having an expensive house she doesn't want on Verona while also making her take care of it.

“You’d have to care in a meaningful way about another human being to become me, Verona. Like I care about you. But you don’t. So instead, you’re well on your way to becoming your mother. Except, wait, no, she actually puts effort into one thing in her life. You’re your mother if she stopped trying!”

This is why she doesn't put much effort into being around you! Every part of Verona's point of view is clear with how much she cares about Lucy, and is growing to care about Avery. Seeing her with Jasmine and Booker, or the connections she's building with Jeremy and Tashlit and Peckersnot... she cares deeply. And this chapter alone makes it clear the effort she puts into those relationships.

But I worry this will hit home, on top of Verona's worries about her relationship with her mother falling apart and her relationship with Jeremy not being romantic.

“And I have no intention of telling you anything because I have tried, dad!  I’ve tried for years!” Verona shouted.  She blinked hard.

I liked "blinked hard" rather than "blinked back tears" or something, because Verona is not processing why this is happening, just the physical movement.

"If I say I have it hard you say you have it worse without ever listening!  So I’ve given up trying!  Do you know how many times I almost died this summer!?  Or worse!?"

Without knowing about the practice/others, I think the only way to parse this, in the context of this conversation, is attempted suicide.

... I have no idea how her father will react to that. I mean, I don't think he'll react well, but there are multiple ways to react poorly. The two that jump to mind are either trying to lock down her behavior "to protect her", or not believing her and getting angry at "attention seeking".

Shouldn’t have dropped that line.  Frig.

:|

“I’m dying, working my way into an early grave trying to give you this life.  And I’ve told you that, time and time again, and I don’t know how to convey to you the gravity of that.  I’m so frustrated.” It didn’t matter.

... or he could just not react at all. I honestly think that's worse? I don't know if he's consciously brushing it off, or if he's just not listening at all to what she's saying.

He went on, “I dig so deep, I hurt, mind, heart, and body, because of what I do for you.  To give you this, to give you Christmases, birthdays.  To make up for the fact your mom isn’t here for you.  And all I want-”

Stop trying. Genuinely, put whatever money you're spending on her necessities into an account she can draw on, and let her find a cheap apartment/part-time job and move out. This is not working.

"I have, and you didn’t seem to care.  It never changed anything.  I can clean the whole house and you act like it’s not enough.  Is that why?  Because to count, it has to be so much it’s bad for me?  Like you claim you’re doing for me?”

I think Verona's got it here. Her father clearly is not happy with his life, and he has to justify that as a necessary sacrifice, and anyone who is happy is not doing their part the way he is.

“Jasmine paints a pretty picture for you while you’re over there but I know Booker had issues with getting drunk and being brought home by the police, and Lucy’s a problem child in her own way.  Attacking her stepfather?  She’s a failure of a mother, Verona.”

1) teenager getting drunk is not a serious problem 2) Lucy is not a problem child in the way you're implying 3) he was technically never her stepfather and forfeited any right to that when he walked out on them 4) Jasmine cannot be that present as a mother for financial reasons, but whenever she can be at home she is there 5) we've seen how concerned and focused on her kids' wellbeing she is 6) where the fuck do you get off calling anyone else a failure of a parent 7) at least neither of her kids hate her

“Stop emulating her!  Gallivanting around with boys, like how she cheated on me, taking everything I give for granted!”

oh boy. It looks like Verona's starting to shift from "his child" to "her mother's daughter"

“You have no idea what it means to grow up, or to try.  You coast, Verona.  You’re clever and you have talents and you lean on that, you lie, you dodge, you think you’ve figured out the systems to get the easiest, laziest ride, whether it’s school or chores here at home.  Dodging consequences.  And that works until it doesn’t.”

I mean. You're right that coasting works up until it doesn't. But you're wrong about how much value the things she's coasting on have. And you're definitely wrong to think that's all she can do.

Take it from me. I used to be fit, I used to be smart, I had a pretty, ambitious wife and then I hit the wall. Taking care of you, so she could further her education, so she could get set up in her work, put in the extra hours, sacrificing my own life, my own ambitions, my own health, waiting for my turn.

And you've never forgiven either her or Verona for it, have you?

You’re going to reach a point in your education where you aren’t clever enough, and you’ll scramble to catch up, and it won’t be enough. 

eh ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

ime it's tricky but manageable to suddenly have to adjust to not being able to coast. A few rough months, maybe a couple years depending how badly it goes. But absolutely something that can be recovered from. And, again, Verona is not just coasting! When it comes to things that a) matter and b) she cares about, she's very dedicated and hard-working.

“Don’t become her.  Meet me halfway, even when you don’t always brim with love for me.  That’s where it starts.”

deeply manipulative that the way to "prove" she's not like her mother is to put more effort into spending time with him in particular

“I hate you more often than I feel any love for you,” she told him.

and I don't think that's going to get her karmically pinged for lying

“I think you broke me,” she told him, as she rose to her feet.  “Dumping so much of your whiny emotional garbage on me that I can’t feel things right anymore. ”

I'm reminded of Alec from Worm. But that was reinforced by superpowers. How mundanely shitty do you have to be to have an impact like Heartbreaker?

You’d need a bit of actual humanity to be a person in my life.

Coming back to themes of inhumanity with Verona.

Screw him.  Screw him and him having any right to be more hurt than she was.

And she can't even parse her own hurt, because of him

She hurried over to the dining room, and she picked up his laptop, holding it over her head.  She met his eyes.  “Trade you.”

hot damn

He didn’t drop it.  He swung it, hard, into the counter’s edge.  She ran forward, laptop under one arm, and he turned, swinging again, his back to her, his body blocking hers.

fuck. What was in that again? Her practice stuff and things for Tashlit? Stuff for Tashlit should be replaceable, the practice stuff... glamour and paper should be fine, not sure what other items Verona hangs onto. I'm worried about her mask.

Glass had broken.  Her glass pens.  A bottle of ink.  Something pricked her, and blood welled out around the black ink that stained her fingertips and nails.  Books in there were ruined.  Notes, clippings from the Blue Heron. Spell cards. So many spell cards.

Ah. I didn't think about ink damage. Were the notes backed up in any way? Spell cards will be a pain to reproduce, but they are replaceable.

She pulled out the word-changing quill, broken in half.

that sucks, especially considering it was a gift from Miss

The cat mask gave as she pulled it from the confines of the bag, broken into three pieces, with the third piece clattering to the floor.

oh no

She took a deep breath, wanting to scream and not being quite ready to.  Wanting to cry, to sob her frustration, to do something, and… The others needed her. There were more important things.

this emotional repression is going to fuck her up even more in the long run

She pulled the bag and its broken contents to her chest, and wrapped that up to, in a body much smaller than she was. A body that had different emotions. Her emotions were still there.  Like she was one gasping breath from tearfully breaking down, or losing it, or screaming.  But they were distant, set apart.  Waiting.

I wonder if this has been part of the appeal for Verona of cat glamour all along? That it lets her set all the human complexity she doesn't want to deal with aside and just exist.

Verona buried her face in between Avery’s elbow and her body.  Her tail hung straight down.  The smells of Avery and soap and Snowdrop filled her nose.

Circumstances aside, I really like Verona using contact/scent from her friends as reassurance

“Lucy, I’m not sure Verona’s okay.” “What happened?” “I don’t know, but I know she can talk in animal form if she tries and she’s not trying.”

has Verona gone mute from emotional issues before? I don't remember that being one of things Lucy mentioned, but it's been a while. The other girls might worry something's gone wrong with the practice to keep her from talking

Lucy’s smile fell from her face. Verona looked away, tail hanging straight down from the fence she was poised on.

quick search seems to say this is defensive or nervous cat body language? Tail hanging down is Not Good.

Verona looked back at them, then, impatient, wanting to do something productive so she could leave the destructive behind her, she leaped at Lucy, who startled.  Her teeth found Lucy’s collar, tugged, then she jumped away, to the ground, back legs punching at Lucy to propel herself in the right direction.

I get that it's hard to signal "let's go that way now" as a cat, but this is surprisingly aggressive

“Then let’s go,” Lucy said.  “But I want you to explain things after.  Please.  This is spooky.”

YEAH PLEASE DO

Second most importantly, there was the rough cube shape, silken furs blowing slightly in the faint air currents, catching Verona’s eye. It sat on the main table in the center, or maybe on two tables pulled together.

Damn. I did not expect them to catch up to the furs this quickly.

The smell of the furs stirred her emotions. Anger and frustration. She buried it, and for once, she felt like the practice she had at that was a help.

yay?

The door opened, and Edith’s eyes burned as she looked through the interior, searching, phone to her ear.

Well. There's the answer. Expected, she's been suspicious from the start and getting worse, but still. I had hope. Not the full answer, more people are definitely involved. I wonder if we'll hear who she's calling?

“I don’t see anything.  Listen, they’re suspicious, and my absence will be noticed.  I have to make an appearance, at least later on, when they do.  I’m stuck here as long as you have the truck.”

So someone who can drive. Matthew is the most obvious option, only others from the original group would be John or Charles.

One wrong step could detonate something or trigger a goblin trap, make her fall or stagger in the direction of another trap… or trigger glamour, to do something she couldn’t decipher. The flowers were a light purple, the vines like filigree.

Looks like both goblins and faerie involved in making this place? At a guess, Maricica and Bluntmunch

Furs swallowed her up, redolent with the smell of blood and a smell that approximated Verona’s moments of peak excitement. She shook her head and climbed up to the top of the pile of fur.

Welp. Will that have an effect on her? At the very least, it might leave visible marks...

Then, roaring without any sound coming out, she reached up, pulled on the pipe, and hit it full-strength with the hammer. It bent, then broke on the next hit. Water gushed, and she used her thumb to make the gush into a spray. A spray that hit papers and soaked them. A spray that wet glamour and washed it away. Running water that took the edge out of goblin traps. She hit the pipe to make it bend more easily, another silent kind of violence, and soaked other areas of the room.

This moment would be so cool in a film medium. Just the sudden release of violent movements in absolute silence

[icehot13]

HELLO AND WELCOME TO A LESSON ON CEILINGS @twitcherpated thank you for the invitation to talk about a topic i love

using a standard office building as an example, you’ll tend to see approx three different types of ceilings going on! i never noticed this when i was working in offices, but now it is All I Can See, so allow me to curse you with knowledge.

1. Open ceiling: the ~industrial~ look. you look up and you can see ductwork, pipe, and wire. look closer and you can see paint chipping off the pipe where it was bent,and pieces that didn’t make it up there before the final coat of paint. sigh. common in open-office spaces, anywhere with high ceilings, sometimes hallways

2. T-grid ceiling: common in enclosed offices! This is the one that has ceiling tiles. The ceiling tiles are set into a framework made from SUPER thin metal. the whole thing is so stupidly fragile. you can pop the ceiling tiles to work in the ceiling, but if you lean against hte stupid metal too hard, you’ll bend it. Also very easy to rip it out of the ceiling if you catch it on a scissor lift or something. SIGH. you can put things in the ceiling, though, which is nice for working up there.

3. hard-lid!!! Especially common in bathrooms. This is when you look up and the entire ceiling is one solid piece, with an access hatch somewhere in the corner. This is made by framing the ceiling with metal studs, like you use for walls, laid horizontally across the ceiling. You then screw drywall up into the studs, to create the flat ceiling. Because of this, the metal studs are able to support a whole person’s weight, because they’re built into the structure of the walls and the whole room. However, you can’t step in between the framing when you’re up tehre, because the drywall  is just, like. drywall, and you could theoretically step right through it. (i dunno though i mean some light crawling is ok but god do you see your life flash before your eyes easily up there) the pro tip here is to bring plywood up with you and lay it across the studs, to sit on. the NOT pro tip is to bring a piece of drywall, beacuse that WILL snap in half when you kneel on it and then y ou will THINK Y OU ARE FALLING THROUGH THE CEILING AND DYING FOR A HOT SECOND THERE.

3.5 baby hard lid (are there real names for these things? who knows): ““““hard lid”“““ but isntead of metal support studs, they use basically the same flimsy metal they used for the t-grid ceiling. so you can open the access hatch and just... access whatever you can reach, really, because you sure aren’t climbing up there. i hate these. i hate them i hate them i hate them.

thank you for coming to my ted talk

[samiholloway]

The first thing that happened when you opened your eyes was the new colors. That was a trip! That's actually what you signed up for, all the secret shrimp colors. The nurse smiled when you said "woah" and said something back about how everyone said that, then left you to get used to it in low light and a low-stim recovery room. You could tell that there wasn't anything on the walls and there weren't any patterns in the usual sense or anything like that, but all the new colors...

Whole new spectrums spread across the walls. The low lights split and prismed over the wide supposedly blank spaces, letting you see the individual brush strokes from where they'd been painted, letting the drywall tape show through, letting you know where the studs and live wires were.

It was /so cool/.

You'd been a little worried that it'd give you headaches or something; your research before you decided on the surgery brought up stories of people who'd had to have it reversed because of intolerable migraines, or because their brains never could make sense of all the new input. You must've been one of the lucky ones because that didn't happen. After a month in the hospital where you relearned how to not run into things -- mostly because it was harder to see the edges of things when you could see /everything/-- and getting used to normal light levels again so you wouldn't get overwhelmed, you went home happy as a clam.

But home is when you saw.../it/.

It was /made/ of all the new colors. /Only/ the new colors and none of the regular ones. It was entirely invisible to normal vision. And it was just living in your house. It startled and fled when it realized you were yelling at it specifically, that you could see it (though it didn't seem to have a shape so much as a presence), but soon you saw that it wasn't the only one. There was one in the stairwell. One in your brother's house. One that followed your neighbor's dog everywhere. When you went to work, the office was just /stuffed/ with them.

And the more of them there were in a place, the less people wanted to be there. Cubicle-farm offices. The DMV. Creepy abandoned factories that had made things that made people sick.

You got a new job, and accepted the offer of the one with the least number of /them/.

Other people you met who'd had the surgery didn't seem to see them, but sometimes they looked haunted and you wondered if maybe you were just the only one talking about it.

Until your officemate cornered you in the bathroom one day and said "stop talking about Them. You're catching Their attention."

Technology has finally advanced to the point where humans can get surgery to see colors invisible to them before. However, this ends up letting them see things humans were never meant to comprehend…

[admediams]

Step-by-Step Guide to Professional Drywall Installations by D & L Interiors, LLC

Here’s a detailed overview of the drywall installation process that our team at D & L Interiors, LLC follows to ensure top-quality results:

Preparation

Measure and Plan: We begin by measuring the area where the drywall will be installed and planning the layout to minimize waste and seams.

Gather Materials: High-quality drywall sheets, screws, joint compound, and other necessary tools are prepared for the installation.

Safety Precautions: Safety gear, such as gloves, goggles, and dust masks, is essential to protect against dust and debris during the process.

Framing Inspection

Check the Framing: We inspect the framing to ensure it is straight and properly aligned. Any irregularities are corrected to provide a solid base for the drywall.

Install Insulation: If insulation is required, we install it between the studs before proceeding with the drywall.

Cutting the Drywall

Measure and Mark: Each drywall sheet is measured and marked to fit the space, taking into account electrical outlets, windows, and other fixtures.

Cut the Drywall: Using a utility knife or a drywall saw, we cut the drywall along the marked lines. Precision in cutting is crucial for a clean installation.

Installing the Drywall

Attach to the Ceiling: We start with the ceiling, securing the drywall sheets to the joists with screws. This provides a solid base and helps prevent sagging.

Attach to the Walls: The drywall sheets are then attached to the wall studs, starting from the top and working downwards. Screws are placed at regular intervals to ensure stability.

Stagger the Seams: To enhance the structural integrity, we stagger the seams of adjacent sheets to avoid a continuous seam line.

Securing and Screwing

Drive Screws: Screws are driven just below the surface of the drywall to ensure they are not visible but are secure enough to hold the drywall in place.

Check for Gaps: We check for any gaps or misalignments and make adjustments to ensure a tight fit.

Taping and Mudding

Apply Joint Tape: We apply joint tape over the seams to reinforce the joints and prevent cracks.

First Coat of Joint Compound: A thin layer of joint compound is applied over the taped seams and screw holes to smooth the surface.

Let It Dry: The compound is allowed to dry completely before proceeding to the next step.

Sanding and Second Coat

Sand the First Coat: We sand the first coat to create a smooth surface, removing any imperfections or rough spots.

Apply Second Coat: A second, slightly thicker coat of joint compound is applied to the seams and screw holes. This is smoothed out to blend with the surrounding drywall.

Repeat Drying: The second coat is allowed to dry fully.

Final Sanding and Finishing

Sand the Second Coat: We sand the second coat to achieve a seamless finish, ready for priming and painting.

Inspect for Flaws: A final inspection is conducted to identify and correct any remaining imperfections or inconsistencies.

Priming and Painting

Apply Primer: A primer is applied to the drywall to prepare it for painting, ensuring good paint adhesion and an even finish.

Paint the Surface: The walls and ceilings are then painted in the desired color, resulting in a beautifully finished space.

[polybplumbing]

Urban Piping Makes Top 5 Plumbing Companies in Canada

Behind Urban Piping's Rise: The Art of Mastering Poly B™ Replacement

Welcome to the bustling world of plumbing, where Urban Piping stands as a towering beacon of excellence. It’s no wonder that we've been recognized as one of the top 5 plumbing companies in Canada – our commitment to replacing Poly B™ with finesse is unparalleled. Now, let's dive a bit deeper and explore how Urban Piping conquers plumbing peaks with unwavering dedication.

Plumbing may not be glamorous, but it's a critical backbone of every modern edifice. In Western Canada, Urban Piping has championed the art of Poly B™ replacement. Picture this: sturdy pipes, seamless fittings, all working together like a symphony – that's our expertise.

The Urban Piping Difference: More Than Just a Service

We're not just about replacing pipes; we're about instilling peace of mind. Our hands-on approach to Poly B piping services assures that every single task is executed to the highest standards, by our hands, in your space. Our in-house plumbers are not your average Joe with a wrench; they're skilled virtuosos who can make pipes sing a leak-free melody.

At Urban Piping, we're fully aware that dealing with plumbing can be as uncomfortable as a wet sock. That's why we ensure our process is as smooth as pebble-polished river stones, providing not just Polybutylene Plumbing replacement, but also taking care of the aftermath with our drywall and paint repair services. Just picture us as the cleanup crew of the plumbing world.

Your Trusty Companion in Every Pipe Replacement Journey

We operate across the nation’s heartbeat, serving cherished communities from Calgary, Edmonton, and Vancouver, to charming Kelowna. It's not just about expertise; it's about being there, close to you, ready to turn the tide on problematic plumbing.

Consider this: your home is your castle, and we're the knights in shining armor, armed with tools and knowledge to protect your domain from the Poly B™ dragon. Each Poly B Piping Case Study we compile is a testament to our battles won and challenges overcome.

A Call to Arms – and Pipewrenches

Now, let's not let financial fretting clog up the decision-making process. With Urban Piping, you can begin the path to safer plumbing from only $150 a month. It's not just an investment in pipes; it's an investment in peace of mind.

So here's our call to action: let's not wait for the proverbial pipe to burst. Join countless satisfied customers and ensure your plumbed palace stands strong. Finance your Poly B™ pipe replacement with Urban Piping and experience the tranquility that comes from partnering with Canada's plumbing elite.

After all, we’re not just in the business of pipes – we’re in the business of trust, security, and relentless pursuit of excellence. Just ask our friends at the Better Business Bureau or any of our star-studded online reviewers. Your plumbing woes stop here, with Urban Piping – where every joint is a juncture of joy.

[chasingvoidmonsters]

Just found out that the 100 year old house we bought in April had NOT been updated to drywall in 2008 like I thought. We still have possibly** 100 year old plaster walls. And the previous owners fucked up this area by mounting a 16" TV mount directly into lath because the studs are actually 18" on this wall (and the whole house iirc) as well as doing a shitty job of shoving an unnecessary outlet behind the TV. I assume the outlet was to minimize wires to the outlet that's 4.5 feet below it.

And as much as I love him, my fiance is not listening to me when I say that all of the plaster in this area not being attached to lath is an issue. He refuses to believe me that we need to pull this section out and redo it properly because leaving it will lead to cracking over time.

When we bought this house, I didn't realize it was a legitimately old house. I thought the bones were old but things had been upgraded to modern practices. Boy was I wrong and unprepared.

**I say possibly because it looks like horse hair and sand plaster, but there's only one coat of the unprimed latex paint on the wall, which peels right off. And if it's actually that old, I would have thought there'd be more paint. UNLESS there was wallpaper for many years, and the 2008 flippers pulled the wallpaper and sanded the plaster down.

[somediyprojects]

DIY Wine Bottle Vases

We have an interesting living space, one where the living, dining, and kitchen areas are all basically one big (or, actually, not-so-big) room. And so, to separate out our dining area from the other spaces, we painted a big gray square on the wall, which turned out better than we expected, but we still needed a creative centerpiece for our new dining ‘room’.

We loved the idea of reusing old wine bottles, and thought a reinterpretation of the Erik’s recycled wine bottle torches, adapted for indoor use, would be perfect for the space. It’s unique, sculptural, inexpensive, and dynamic, easily changed from one season to the next (just swap out different silk flowers to reflect the season).

Total cost for this project (if you don’t count the cost of the wine, because, well, you get to enjoy that in other ways) was under $5 per vase.

You will need (per vase): – (1) Empty wine bottle of your choice – (1) Top plate connector/ceiling flanges (3/8″ size) – (1) 1″ split ring hanger – (2) screws to fit and hold the top plate connector (you may also want drywall anchors if you are not mounting directly into studs or another material) – (1) piece of 3/8″ threaded rod, cut into 2 1/2″ pieces. – 1/2″ double sided foam mounting tape (optional – if your bottle’s neck is smaller than 1″, like ours were) – Silk flowers of your choice.

1. With a hack saw, cut your threaded rod down to size. Ours were about 2 1/2″ long, as we didn’t want our bottles hanging out too far from the walls. If you are hanging multiple bottles, just be sure you cut your pieces to equal sizes.

2. Position the top-plate connector on your wall, and mark the holes where the screws will go. Pre-drill the holes, insert any necessary drywall anchors, and then attach the plate to the wall.

3. Screw in your cut rod pieces, and then your split ring hanger.

4. If your wine bottle has a narrow neck (the 1″ split ring is loose around it and doesn’t fit snugly), apply a layer or two (as needed) of foam mounting tape to the neck of the bottle where it will be held by the split ring. Remove the backing from the other side of the tape, position the bottle in the split ring, and tighten the screws to secure in place. Pop in your flowers and voila!

Notes: We had quite a time finding the proper hardware. I think we went to a total of 3 Lowes around the city before we found them in stock and in the right size. Some stores had them in the Plumbing section, others had them in the Electrical. We’ve seen the connector piece called both a Top Plate Connector and a Ceiling Flange, who knows what it is actually called. The hardware (except for the threaded rod) comes in either copper or zinc (silver) finish, so you can choose whichever would best match your decor (or break out the spray paint).

[helloemergencyservices]

How to fix the jackhammer noise of the toilet

The jackhammer noise coming from your toilet is not caused by the toilet, but by the water pipes. It occurs when water slams against the pipes when the toilet valve is closed. Since water is incompressible, the vibrations are transmitted through the pipes to the wall or through the filling valve to the toilet. This phenomenon is called water hammer and can damage the pipes if nothing is done about it. The solution is to install a water hammer damper. It has an internal piston that absorbs the excess water pressure, stopping the shaking. Install a tee in the supply line just before the shutoff valve. You will probably need to cut out a piece of drywall to access the pipe. In this case, use a drywall saw to cut out a large rectangle that extends to the studs on both sides. This will give you plenty of room to work and make it easy to replace. Turn off the water line and open the shut-off valve to relieve the water pressure. Cut the pipe about an inch before the elbow protruding from the wall with a pipe cutter or, if the pipe runs next to a stud, with a hacksaw. Drain the water and then deburr the pipe with a file. Insert a 1.2-cm threaded copper tee into the pipe where you cut it. The outlet should be parallel to the wall or slightly backwards. Coat the pipe and the inlets of the tee with solder flux, slide it onto the pipes, and solder it with lead-free solder. Place a heat shield between the tube and the stud to protect the stud while you heat the joint with a torch. Wrap tape around the threads of a water hammer protector that resembles a short 1.2 cm pipe with a cap, and screw the protector into the tee with a wrench. Plug in the toilet, turn on the valve and flush a few times to make sure the water hammer is no longer heard. If it does, replace the drywall, patch it and paint it.

Call the Emergency Plumber in Luton. We are your right contact partner. Call us whenever you want, 01582323084.

[mevination]

The Piggening

After a fun night on the town, filled with dinner and lively conversation you decide to take a chance. You’ve never before been so forward, especially after just one date, but there is something about this guy. Is it the way he takes charge and insists you try what food he’s having, or that he seems more generous than usual men you go for? After all, he did pay the bill for dinner, and he is taking the lead on this evening stroll, deciding when to turn and where. So you go ahead and take a chance and risk it.

You invite this handsome young stud back to your place.

You: “Hey, you wanna come back to my place? I want to show you some of the pictures I’ve taken on my travels. You wouldn’t believe the places I’ve visited…”

He interrupts.

The young stud: “Nah not tonight…”

You: “Oh I see, I thought we were having a good…”

He interrupts again, and you realize he has been doing that all night. But before you get a chance to become annoyed, he says

The young stud: “I’ve got a better idea. My place is right around the corner, and I have a surprise I think you’ll like.”

Wordlessly, you smile back at him and gesture for him to lead the way.

When you guys arrive at his place you settle on the couch for a night cap. Just some wine and more conversation where you tell him about your travels.

You: “Oh, you should have seen the view from the resort in Kyoto, it was spectacular! The mountains, ugh! I wish I had my pictures with me. Simply to die for…”

And he tells you about his dreams to become a famous scientist, solving the world’s problems and making the world a better place.

The young stud: … “I really think the best we can do for each other is take care of the planet. And that means focusing on clean energy, programs to reduce waste, all that…”

But as he speaks you can feel your eyelids getting heavy. You don’t remember being this much of a light weight. It was just one glass of wine, right? While losing focus you notice this guy had stopped talking. He is sitting there watching you with a weird smile on his face. Sort of like a mix of triumph and satisfaction. Maybe he’s notice you drifting off and finds it funny. You also realize, you forgot his name. He told you earlier that night but it’s on the tip of your tongue. As you struggle to focus, the world around you fades to black, and there’s a loud thump as you realize you just hit the floor.

When you awake, all of your surroundings seem unfamiliar. The details of last night are fuzzy but you remember you were out on a date with someone. Some young guy. You guys were hitting it off, too. A pang of regret hits as you mourn the loss of what could have been a great relationship, but now will never be.

You: “Oh yea that’s right, you went to his place!” You speak aloud to yourself. “But I don’t remember his place looking like this, so where the heck am I?”

As you say that, you realize you are in some sort of finished basement. The walls are drywalled and painted, and there’s carpet beneath your feet. Even a song playing quietly on the speaker sitting on the bookcase to your left. You realize to your confusion there aren’t any books on that shelf just weird tubes and what looks like a… whip? Maybe more rope, and some sort of ball gag.

But before you get a chance to stand up you feel resistance on your hands. They’re behind your back! And your feet are stuck. They’re tied to a chair with some sort of rope? Yes, rope it has to be rope. You get a very bad feeling about this and know that your only hope is to yell out for help.

Before you can make a noise, you hear footsteps behind you. The creaking of wooden steps. Someone is coming down the stairs. You strain your head to turn around, but he stays at the edge of your vision.

Mystery voice: “Good morning, cutie. How was your nap? I hope you worked up an appetite.”

Just then you realize the voice is familiar. It’s the guy from last night!

You: “What… what are you doing, what is this. Why am I tied up?”

The young stud: “Oh that? Well, it’s wonderful news. You’re gonna be my next little piggy. I can’t have my piggy run away before I get a chance to fatten him up, now can I?”

Your eyes grow wide, as you realize exactly what this means. Just then he comes into view and his name comes back to mind while you’re distracted looking for a way to cut yourself loose.

You: “Let me go! This is insane”

Sam: “Settle down. You’re my piggy now and I’m gonna make sure you’re nice and fed and well taken care of. You don’t have to worry about work or money, or providing for yourself anymore. I’ve got a great big stockpile of food down here, and anything I don’t have I’ll go and get you all your favorites. I’ll feed and take care of anything you want. That is, as long as you behave.”

To your dismay, you can’t manage to utter a single word. Are you stunned to silence, or are you actually considering this living arrangement? How could he have known your darkest fantasy? Well, maybe not being tied up permanently, but as far as kidnappings go this is not the worst-case scenario.

In your silence Sam goes on and says,

Sam: “I see my piggy is excited about this news, yes?”

You look down and realize your body has betrayed your words. You ARE excited. You think it must be some sort of Stockholm syndrome... But not enough time has passed. Then you admit to yourself, what’s the harm in going along with it? At least until you can find a means to escape. But before you know it, a few hours become days, days become weeks and you still can’t figure a way out.

You feel your will to escape shrinking with each passing moment, and a growing fondness for your caretaker taking its place. How could you like someone that uses you for you body like this? But all those thoughts melt away with each new meal he brings. Always larger than the last. You feel your energy and fondness for your old life melt away as you add each pound. It must be over 40 lbs you’ve added in just a few weeks with no signs of stopping.

“Working on your appetite,” he calls it. And you realize its been days since the last time you even thought about escape.

A few months later…

Sam comes in the door with a large stockpile of all the goodies form the store. He even stopped at your favorite fast-food places. Two family sized meals.

Sam: “I hope my piggy is hungry! I got all the fixings. I got the cookies you like and…”

Before he can finish his thought, he looks up to see you bouncing up and down for joy. Your body has changed a lot in those past few months. The funnel feedings, the fast food, the gainer shakes, and the bountiful desserts have expanded your waistline tremendously.

Sam: “Oh, honey! Be careful all that bouncing up and down might break the chair!”

Just as if on queue the chair under your colossal girth begins to creak and then buckles under you. Your blubbery belly, massive thighs, and profoundly plump glutes make you hit the floor with more of a splat than a thud.

You both burst out laughing.

Sam: “Look at that you passed a new milestone! Next one is being able to fit through the door! I’m sure we’ll have you home bound in no time.”

You fall backwards giddy with excitement and delight at the prospect of even more delicious food and adding to your already considerable bulk. For a moment you remember the day you first entered this apartment, and realize how much has changed. When you used to go outside and prepare meals for yourself, and had to go to work even when all you wanted to do was eat.

Now you don’t have to worry about any of that. And you pity the old you that toiled so tirelessly for so long. If you could go back you would tell Sam he didn’t even need the roofie he put in your wine, you would have gladly been his little piggy from day one. Your life was now like a dream come true.

[yumiikyo]

Home Improvements: Make The Most Of Them!

You might have heard people tell you how to do the jobs on your home, but you can find out on your own. Reading up on home improvement may seem like a chore, but it'll help get you great results. This article will provide many helpful tips for you.

Your AC unit's filter should be kept clean. When it clogs, your unit will not be energy efficient. Dirty filters can also make your unit run for a longer than necessary time. You need to replace the filter once a month before it gets clogged.

If you have a small bathroom, consider finding ways to save space as your next home improvement project. It is easy to use an adjacent closet or to reformat an old kitchen cabinet into a new storage facility for your bathroom. Always make sure not to remove any structural support that the room has.

You can speed the drying of your drywall patch by using a hair blower! Any hair dryer will work as long as it is portable enough that you can direct the air flow from it over your patch. Keep the air temperature set to low and don't try to dry the patch too quickly or it will crack.

Fix a nail that's popped partially out of your wall covering with a couple of drywall screws! Insert a drywall screw a few inches above the offending nail and another a few inches below. This will pull the drywall or other wall covering back into the wall stud so that you can hammer the nail back into place without blemishing your wall. Paint the visible nail and screw heads and you're done!

The best part about learning how to do something correctly is that you will always know how to do it correctly. Acting on a whim and attempting to fix up your home without the proper knowledge could end very badly for you. You have just learned some home improvement tips in the above article, and you should definitely use them.

Read more here go here

[finddrywallrepair]

Tips For Drywall Repair

Drywall repair is a common home improvement project that can be done by do-it-yourselfers or hired professionals. It encompasses a wide range of problems, from nail pops to major repairs like water damage and mold.

Small drywall dents, holes and scrapes are the most commonly repaired types of damage, but you may also need to patch larger holes. These types of drywall damage are generally the easiest to fix on your own, but you'll still need to have some basic drywall skills to ensure that the job is completed well.

For small drywall dents, holes and scrapes (typically less than 4 inches across), you can simply apply a spackle to the area and sand it down when dry. This is a simple way to make your walls look as good as new.

You can even paint the area to match your existing interior wall colors if you prefer. Just be sure to use quality products and tools so that the patched areas don't get damaged in the process. Learn more about contractor at https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/General_contractor.

If your drywall damage is too big for a patch, you may have to cut out a hole and replace it with a new piece of drywall. This will require a little more skill, but you'll have more control over the finished product and the result will be much better than if you simply slapped on a piece of paper tape and covered it with joint compound.

Before you start, be sure to locate the studs in your home that are on either side of the damaged area. This will help you determine how to properly patch the hole and where to screw in the new drywall. It's important to avoid putting drywall screws in the wrong place, which can cause a dangerous electrical fire or other hazards.

Once you've located the studs, trace your hole using a stud finder and pencil or marker. This is the most accurate way to mark your repair, but you can also use a carpenter's square if you're comfortable with it.

Regardless of which best drywall repair method you choose, be sure to use the correct tool for each step and always follow the manufacturer's directions. Otherwise, you'll end up with a hole that's more difficult to fill or repair than it should be and your drywall damage will take longer to complete.

How to Fix Ceiling Leaks

One of the most noticeable signs that your drywall is damaged is when it begins to sag or discolor from water intrusion. This is a common problem in homes that have a lot of moisture, such as those with basements or crawlspaces or those in climates with a high humidity level. You can also spot leaks in areas that aren't easy to see, such as at the base of a wall or on the ceiling.

In this case, it's a good idea to have your contractor inspect the entire room to get a better sense of the extent of the damage and where the drywall repair need to be made. This will help you plan the next steps and be more prepared for any challenges that come up during the process.