#porcelain chips was published first but I thought that was a one off

[polysyndetonaddictsupportgroup]

i've rotated glazed defects in my mind about once a month since i read it and i want you to know that matt murdock fanfiction is now my favorite method to learn about supreme court cases and if you ever want to write another supreme court crossover i will gladly show up to your lecture with my three-ring binder and different colored pens

oh thank fuck I have truly found my target audience thank you beautiful readers i am absolutely going to be writing more about the Supreme Court in my fanfiction

#glaze defects #*stares at other one shots I have started for this universe* #I am a HUGE fucking nerd about SCOTUS decisions #ESPECIALLY the anticanon #it’s like my everlasting passion #if anyone out there is every interested in learning like. casually about law. I HEAVILY recommend doing a review of the anti canon #especially if you’re interested in what’s happening now with the Supreme Court #like if you understand how SCOTUS can twist logic to do the most fucked things possible then you just have a much better understanding #if what’s happening now #also I’m just a gigantic fucking legal dork #i have a presently unpublished vigilante ensemble fic that I fondly think of as my bucky Barnes designated driver au #proper expert witness identification and in camera review was a plot point #me writing glaze defects was just: the law makes everything more fun. let’s copy and paste an entire paragraph of the analysis. #pls join me for the Tony stark aside explaining where the fuck he has been (I swear to god there’s a good reason he’s not there yet) #for a discussion of international policy making and the role of federal injunctive relief in the development of law #the Steve Rogers aside for a discussion of 1940s eugenics statutes and policy including the one referenced in glaze defects #and the Luke cage aside for how the principle of legal discretion can change a stupid amount of how the law is executed #I swear to god these are more interesting than they sound #not gonna lie these character studies were never supposed to be a Thing before glaze defects #porcelain chips was published first but I thought that was a one off #i care Way Too Much about the law okay I have to make it a part of my character studies #and I’m so passionate about how at least semi accurately can enhance the writing of a story #writers of she hulk pls call me you do not know what a da is or how the law works #writers of she hulk pls it could have been so much more #stopping my rant before I swan dive down a rabbit hole but i legit watch legal shows and classify their mistakes on a scale of ‘eh harmless’ #to ‘you actively undermined your own story’ #Disney you have such a big budget please just ask a single lawyer pleaseeee #oh I almost forgot Sam Wilson is getting an aside wayyyy down the line and we are GOING to talk about Iqbal and twombly #possibly the agent orange litigation we’ll see

[sserpente]

A/N: Request from anon. At the end of the day, I do love fluff! ♥

Words: 1642 Warnings: fluff! but it gets a little smutty at the end

“Ugh, work sucked, my day sucked, everything sucked! I hate my life!” Indignantly, you kicked your bag with a pout after dropping it to the floor carelessly. A muffled thump echoed through the dark flat. You sighed. Loki never bothered to switch on the lights once it got dark outside. He had almost given you a heart attack the first few times he had surprised you in the pitch-black hallway.

“Now, now… whatever is the matter, little minx?” Loki was leaning against the threshold with his arms crossed.

“Would you mind turning my boss into a frog?” You suggested, a bitter smile playing on your lips. He raised an eyebrow as he smirked in response. “He’s making me cover my colleague’s shift on the weekend. I’ve not had a single day off this week! Does he… does he think I’m a machine?! I’m exhausted and you guess what? I was supposed to be on holiday next week. He postponed it all the way to June. I’m pretty sure that is illegal. We had plans!”

“And have you told him that?” He questioned when you gasped for air.

“For Heaven’s sake, no! He’d have me fired in an instant.” The God of Mischief frowned.

“Can he afford to do that, losing an employee? You told me you are currently the only full-time worker.” Loki knew little to nothing about work life on Midgard but he was a fast learner. You nodded.

“Exactly, that I am.” Tired, you leaned your forehead against his chest and closed your eyes. His heartbeat was calming—even more so when he wrapped his arms around you. “And if I kick out against him, he’ll find two dozen people to hire who will not. That’s how work life works. I’m replaceable.” It was a bitter life society forced you to live, come to think of it. You were about to get your period for sure—Loki seemed to notice the tears swimming in your eyes without even looking at your face. Mutely, he scooped you up into his arms and carried you into the bedroom. He could be so sweet and gentle and with you, he always was, even in bed unless… unless you requested otherwise. He was still in doubt about showing you his most primal side, especially when he lost control and revealed his Jötun form to you during sex… but you loved it. You loved him. All of him.

“Why don’t you find a workplace where they appreciate what you are doing?” He suggested gently, sending tingles down your spine as he stroked your cheek with his fingertips—a light touch, like the wings of a butterfly. Smiling up at him drowsily, you curled up on his lap like a kitten. Loki purred in response. So vulnerable… you made him downright possessive. He would positively kill everyone who ever dared harm you physically or mentally, slowly and intimately. Perhaps he should heed your request and turn your atrocious boss into a frog or even better, a rat.

“I need the money, Loki. This flat costs money, food costs money, insurance costs money… I didn’t grow up as an Asgardian princess, remember?” Sighing once more, you snuggled into him. You were far too lazy to take off your clothes. Maybe Loki would undress you once you were asleep. “Sometimes I really feel like I should be a stripper. Life would be much easier that way.”

It was then he arched an eyebrow, pushing you an arm-length away from him so he could face you again. “Now, whatever is a stripper, little minx?”

You giggled. “You don’t have strippers on Asgard? Well, probably not… strippers dance in nightclubs or more specifically… adult amusement clubs—and throughout the night, they keep losing more and more clothing until they’re dancing entirely naked.”

“In front of whom?”

“Everybody. They take money for that, and tips. Maybe that’s what I should do.” You joked. Nevertheless, Loki stiffened.

“That is absolutely out of the question. The only one you will ever strip in front of is me.” He argued seriously, making you giggle once more.

“Don’t you worry, Trickster. I’m all yours.”

The God of Mischief smirked. “That you are…” In fact… a wicked idea came to your mind. Loki had quite obviously never seen a strip performance—and here you were, sitting on his lap and relaxing after a long day at work. What better way was there to distract yourself than to drive the God of Mischief a little crazy with lust and desire for your body? There was only one issue: You had never done anything like this before. How would you know if you looked seductive or plainly ridiculous?

In any case, Loki elected to simply take that decision from you. Gently pushing you an arm-length away from you yet again, he smirked—devilishly. “Strip for me.”

“Excuse me?” Raising an eyebrow in feigned indignity, you watched him cock his head at you.

“Strip for me.”

“But… I don’t have any music!” You complained half-heartedly. What followed was Loki waving his hand and your phone started playing one of your favourite songs—perfect for a little dance performance for him. “Oh…”

You rose with a shy blush on your cheeks. Maybe you were not as badass as you thought you were but then again… this was Loki. The man, pardon, god, who even found you sexy and alluring with greasy hair, chipped nail polish on your toes and an oversized sweater on a lazy Sunday.

Still, when you started peeling off your shirt, you wished you had put on some sexier underwear today.

“God, this is so stupid…” You uttered with a giggle, resisting the urge to bury your face in your hands.

“Oh no… this is ravishing. Keep going, little minx. I want to see all of those clothes coming off of that lascivious body.” Loki leaned back, fingers crossed behind his head and his mischievous smirk widening. His boldness made you brave. Grinning at him despite your timidity, you undid the buttons of your trousers and slid them down your legs, making sure to move your hips along with the rhythm of the music until you could step out of them, and then tended to your bra. You unhooked it casually but held the cups in place so you could slip your arms through the straps. Loki’s blue eyes widened when you finally dropped it, all the while dancing seductively. Your breasts, nipples hardening from the cool air around you as well as your growing arousal, bounced with every movement. He was already breathing heavily—but so were you.

Demandingly, his heated gaze wandered up and down your body until it came to rest on your knickers. The silent message was clear—they had to go. Once again slowly, you rolled them off your legs until you could step out of them, leaving you entirely naked in front of him.

Gosh… this was hot! You kept dancing, always making sure to make use of the body parts you liked about yourself the most—you even kneeled down at some point, revealing your glistening petals to him.

“You know… sometimes, for a little extra cash, strippers will dance on someone’s lap…” You mused as innocently as you could muster.

“Hmm… be my guest, little minx.”

Smirking a little, you sneaked towards him, making sure he would remember every single step to admire your naked skin. You were trembling by the time you straddled him, placing your hands on his shoulders for support as you tried to copy what you had seen in films, moving and circling your hips, arching your back… you felt so incredibly sexy it was almost surreal and soon enough… soon enough you were riding his thigh, whimpering quietly all the while still moving to the music playing in the background and turning your dance into something else entirely. If you didn’t stop…

“Keep rocking.” He growled darkly. You resisted the urge to moan when you noticed the wet spot that had formed on his leather trousers. He grabbed your hips when you stopped, urging you on to continue. Breathing heavily, you dug your fingernails into his shoulders as your arousal kept climbing up into dizzying heights, driving you closer and closer to an earth-shattering orgasm. That was exactly where Loki wanted you to go. Biting your lower lip, you rubbed your clit against his thigh, picking up the pace until you were on the verge of climax, ready to fall into the abyss. He wrapped his arms around you tightly when you began to shiver, pleasure electrocuting your veins like a hot lightning. You came on his thigh, muscles contracting again and again until you had ridden out your relaxing high—and relaxed you were, wasting not a single thought on your job or your annoying boss anymore.

Tenderly, almost as if he was worried you would break like a porcelain doll, he lifted you onto the mattress and tucked you in all naked before joining you swiftly, switching off the lights and pressing a light kiss to your temple.

He was hard when he pulled you into his embrace, almost painfully so, and he wanted nothing more than to bury himself deep inside your core—but that could wait until tomorrow. Right now, you were exhausted and you needed sleep.

“I turned off your alarm clock.” He announced quietly.

“Loki, no, I have to be up at six tomorrow.”

“Your boss has just received notice that you are ill and will not make it to work tomorrow. Mental exhaustion is a reason for sick notes as well, my little minx.”

“Wait, how did you even… oh, you know what, never mind...” You fell asleep on him before you could even begin with starting a half-hearted argument, with a content smile on your face.

-

A/N: Check out my blog to find more Imagines and take a glimpse at my  first (to be) published novel! If you enjoyed this story, I would  appreciate so much if you supported me on Kofi! ko-fi.com/sserpente ♥

#loki #loki imagine #loki x you #loki x reader #loki fluff #loki smut #loki laufeyson #loki laufeyson imagine #loki laufeyson x you #loki laufeyson x reader #loki laufeyson smut #loki laufeyson fluff #loki odinson #loki odinson imagine #loki odinson x you #loki odinson x reader #loki odinson smut #loki odinson fluff #the avengers #the avengers imagine #thor #thor imagine #mcu #mcu imagine #marvel #marvel imagine #tom hiddleston

[voxymoxyboxy]

Scrapped Secret Santa Idea

While struggling to write for my AU drabbles, I was looking at my old writing and stumbled across this abandoned draft for the Sam and Max secret santa from last year! I read it and found that I still really liked it so I thought I would publish it on here for people to read! It’s not finished, but I do really like what I wrote. Please enjoy!

The familiar thrum of the microwave sounded through Sybil’s kitchen as she leaned against a nearby counter. Little pops began a few seconds later, the smell of butter and salt slowly, but surely, washing over her like a warm bath. Thin fingers drummed against the large plastic bowl in her hands. Rather than compose a new symphony for one- though that didn’t sound too bad for her next career-, Sybil decided to cross things off a mental list.

Comfortable pajamas pulled from the depths of a bottom drawer? Check.

Snacks? Enough to feel like utter garbage come morning.

Fluffy blanket? Spread on the couch just waiting to be wrecked by her guest.

Speaking of her guest… Sybil checked her watch. It was almost eight o’clock, the time when their little girl’s night was supposed to start. Supposed to, because Max wasn’t exactly known for his punctuality. The woman sighed. If she had to guess, the lagomorph would burst through her front door at about nine, a full hour late, wide smile on-

A knock on the door startled Sybil from her thoughts. The bowl clattered to the floor, but the women kicked it aside as she made her way through the living room. Whoever was waiting outside stopped for a second, only to be begin spamming the doorbell instead. Sybil quickened her steps.

“I’m coming!” she shouted. “Just give me a second!” The ringing continued, much to the woman’s dismay.

“Sybil!” a high-pitched voice called through the wood. “What you say in the bedroom’s none o’ my business!” Nearly banging her arm against the doorknob in her hurry, Sybil threw open the door to find Max, wide teasing smirk on his face clothed in nothing more than a flimsy scarf. His hands were clasped behind his back and he rocked back and forth on his heels.

The woman rubbed the bridge of her nose but returned the lagomorph’s smile. “Good to see you Max.” She stepped to the side to let him in. “Come on in.”

Max strutted inside, a bag the woman hadn’t noticed until then clutched in his paws. Sybil raised a brow when, instead of just dumping it on her carpet, the lagomorph gently placed the bag under the coffee table. Free from potential harm and the crumb zone, the woman noted. He jumped on the couch, already making himself at home by wrapping himself up in Sybil’s blanket like stuffing in a burrito.

“So.” The lagomorph eyed the snacks on the coffee table. The woman watched as Max snatched the largest chip bag of the bunch. Ripping it open, Max dug out a handful of salty goodness and stuffed it all in his mouth. “Where’s the kid?” he asked, crumbs spraying everywhere from talking with his mouth full.

Sybil grimaced. Tomorrow would be a clean-up day for sure. “I left Penny with a good friend of mine from work.”

“What is it this time? Graphic designer?” Max picked at his teeth. “Toy making? No!” He snapped his fingers. “Mall Santa!”

“Elf, actually.” Sybil said, making her way back towards the kitchen. “Hired me on the spot after finding out I’m a mother.”

“Must be desperate to avoid any lawsuits this year.” Max commented and dumped the rest of the bag down his gaping maw. “Probably don’t wanna lose another Santa.”

“Lose another Santa?” the woman parroted, confusion plain in her voice. “I don’t remember hearing anything about a Santa being arrested last year.” Max flattened out his blanket nest so his arms were now free to move about. He grabbed a soda and popped it open.

“Whaddaya mean?” The lagomorph took a small sip before continuing. “You were there! I kidnapped you that mornin’ to help me get a present fer Sam! Near ‘bout had a heart attack when he burst in and handcuffed the bastard.” He traced the rim of the can, ears drooping a bit before shooting right back up. “Right?”

Sybil had to tread carefully.

“The popcorn’s done. Why don’t you get it while I turn on the tv?” Max was silent for a beat. While subtle, she could see his jaw tighten, grin turning forced. The grip on his soda tightened, leaving tiny dents in the aluminum. And yet, just as quickly, Max was bouncing back. Literally, as he’d jumped to his feet.

“You actually trust me to go within six feet of yer microwave?” the lagomorph said. He brushed away an imaginary tear. “I’m touched!”

“Get going before I regret my decision.”

“You probably should.”

“Go.” The woman chuckled, playfully shoving him towards the kitchen archway. Max ‘harumphed’ and left the room. Sybil rolled her eyes. It was all just for show. The guy was a drama queen through and through. What had caught her eye were the muscles in Max’s shoulders. The habit leftover from her old job as a masseuse proved to be useful, for they were tense, almost like the lagomorph was preparing to fight.

Or flee.

Sybil reached over the side of the couch and pulled out the remote. After finding the device in Penny’s mouth one too many times, she’d decided to buy one of those stupid arm slings to hold it. Admittedly, it worked pretty well. She flicked the tv on, muting it before leaning to get comfortable. Flipping through channels, the woman looked for the right one. No, no, uggh, ah-ha! Now she could really get settled in.

Before she could really hunker down, Max slid in front of the flat screen. His back faced Sybil, pristine white fur now covered by a long-sleeved purple pajama shirt, both sleeves and matching pants rolled up. Bowl held over his head, he leaped back onto soft cushions, stray pieces flying to hit Sybil’s arm and leg. Her gaze traveled over Max and she stifled laughter with a hand as she saw what was hovering over his chest.

“Merry Christmas, Ho, Ho Hoes?” she read, giggles bursting through her fingertips. For the first time that night, Max’s smile turned genuine. The lagomorph puffed his chest out, pride radiating off his person.

“Jealous?” he nearly purred.

“Hardly.”

“Green doesn’t become you, Sybil.” Max sing-songed.

Said woman gasped. “I’ll have you know it brings out my eyes!”

“Whatever helps ya sleep at night!” Max shot back.

The two started at each other for a moment before bursting into hearty laughter. Some of the tension from before ebbed away as they clutched their quickly hurting middles. Wiping away small tears, she glanced over at her friend. A weight Sybil hadn’t known about lifted from her shoulders as the rabbit devolved into giggles, stray pieces of popcorn flying everywhere.

“You know,” Sybil scootched back to her side of the sofa, "I was wondering.”

“Bout what?” Max tossed a kernel and caught it with a loud crunch.

Sybil gestured towards the television. “Why Hallmark movies?” She tucked her legs under her. “I thought you hated those.”

Max froze, caught off-guard by the woman’s question. He recovered fast, face blank as his attention turned to the movie. The woman on the screen- the heroine, Sybil assumed- walked under a garden arch adorned with Christmas lights. A man followed close behind, a look of complete adoration gracing his features. Slowly, he plopped the dish onto the middle cushion.

“Yeah,” he brought his knees to his chest, “I do.”

“Then why…?”

Max buried himself in Sybil’s blanket. He placed his chin on his knees. “How long’ve we known each other, Sybil?”

Sybil tilted her head quizzically. “About two or three years now, I think.” She paused. “Why?”

Snow began falling in the movie. The woman laughed and pulled the man towards a tackily-decorated gazebo. He followed without fail, lips flapping as he probably spouted cheesy dialogue.

“It’s funny, ‘s all.” Max said, sad little smile on his muzzle. Sybil had a feeling he didn’t really mean it. “From what I remember, it’s been at least five. But then again,” the lagomorph tapped his head, “Never did have the best memory.”

“Don’t sell yourself short Max.” Sybil scooted closer and lightly placed a hand over Max’s. He flinched but didn’t move to rip the limb off. She took it as a good sign, welling with pride as she squeezed the paw. “You’re smarter than you think. But that’s not the real issue here, is it?”

“Dunno. You tell me Miss Psychotherapist.” The rabbit tried to crack a joke, but the woman wasn’t having it.

“Max.” she said, slightly increasing the pressure on his hand. By now the soon-to-be couple were sitting on a bench found in their temporary shelter, shoulders brushing while they talked. “You don’t have to tell me what’s wrong. But know, as your friend, I’m here for you.”

Max tossed the words around in his head. He pulled his hand from Sybil’s and grabbed a mug from the table, whipped cream already melted into the warm cocoa. Holding it with both paws, the lagomorph took a deep breath.

“It happened a few years. You n’me were just fuckin’ around at one of our movie nights.” His grip tightened around the porcelain handle. “Landed on the channel and had the crappy idea to mute it and write our own story.” Patiently the woman waited as Max took another swig.

“Was so stupid.” the rabbit mumbled, corners of his mouth pulling up just so. “But fun. Were laughin’ our asses off by the end of the night. When I was ‘bout to leave, you suggested we do it every year and-“

“You wanted to keep the tradition going.” Sybil finished, voice wrought with understanding.

Max sent his friend a look, mouth shutting with a clack. “Somethin’ like that.” The rabbit’s gaze wandered back to the film, pang in his chest at the woman and man twining their fingers together. “Guess I just wanted something familiar in m’life.” he confessed.

Sybil peered at her friend intently. “…Have you told Sam?”

“Hell no!” Max said. “He’s the last one I wanna tell!”

“Is something going on between you two?”

“No.” he lied, thumb running over the edge of Sybil’s mug.

“Did he do anything? Because I know the guy can be dense sometimes-”

The lagomorph shook his head. “Yer readin’ too much int’ it Sybil.”

The heroine and hero were staring at each now, the camera rotating around the outside of the gazebo in a way that had to make some people sick.

“…Has he been distant lately?” Sybil tried, sadness clawing at her throat when Max’s ears pinned against his skull. “Do you know why?”

Max bit the inside of his cheek. “No. But what I do know,” the rabbit hugged the mug closer, “is that he’s been weird round me. It’s like…” he tugged at his pajama sleeves, racking his brain for the right words, “guy’s always on edge. Just yesterday me and Sam were caught n’ the middle of a few mafia goons.”

“Tis the season.” Sybil chimes in, prompting a snort from her friend.

“Bullets are flyin’ everywhere, the smell of gun smoke heavy in the air. I take two of ‘em down no prob but then,” Max furrows his brows, “then Sam just freezes up. Had ta save his sorry ass and off the rest myself. When I asked what happened, he tried to play it off like it was no big deal!”

“How long’s this been going on?”

“Not too long after we started dating.” The lagomorph sighed. At that moment, the man pointed out a sprig of mistletoe hung on the ceiling. Trapped like rats, the two hesitate but for a beat before kissing. “Makes me feel like, like-”

“You’re the problem.” 

Max pouted. “Stop that!”

Sybil chuckled. “Sorry. Force of habit. Still.” She placed a hand on Max’s shoulder. “You should tell him. You two may be terrible at talking about anything emotional, but Sam appreciates honesty.” The woman squeezed it and slid back to her claimed space. “He’ll listen. You’ve just gotta trap him somehow.”

#sam and max #sam & max #sam and max freelance police #my fics #post season 3 #spoilers

[kurodachimagic]

Chocolate and Cherries - Chapter 2

Summary: When Adachi falls into the arms of a kind stranger his life changes for the better.

Rating: Pg 13

Tags/warnings: Fluff, getting together, au, Writer Adachi, Chef Kurosawa.

Word count: 6.2k A/n: This story was written for the cherry magic mini bang! Thank you@hiwatari-art for inviting me to join! Had a lovely time working with you as always. Thank you to my other artist over on twitter guacagabs. The entire story is being posted right now.

Read on ao3

The following morning, Adachi rolled out of bed with only a minute to spare, got dressed and started the painfully long commute to work. He could tell that something felt off, but he thought it was probably related to the horrible position his neck had been in. He pinched the back of his neck with his index and thumb, trying to locate the source of the pain and moving the muscle in a circle to adjust it back into place but it was hard to concentrate when everything seemed so loud. Still, he continued to massage his neck until a man bumped into him.

Adachi heard him throw an insult his way even though his lips weren’t moving and jumped back, accidentally crashing into a young woman. As he turned to apologize, he heard her call him an impolite evil man, but again, her lips did not move. He panicked and pressed himself against the wall before sliding to the floor. Another man placed a hand on his shoulder and asked if he was ok, but Adachi could hear loud and clear the man’s voice calling him a drunk. Not knowing what to think, he thanked the man and shuffled into a corner in an attempt to stop hearing people, and for the time being, it worked.

Feeling a bit more reassured about his mental health once the voices were gone, he pulled his phone from his pocket and checked his messages, realizing it was his birthday. Urabe’s voice ringed in his ears: “Adachi, if you don’t date someone by the time you turn 30, you will turn into a wizard!”

That couldn’t be right, it was just a myth! But just in case, he did what he could to avoid physical contact with anyone else.

After another monotone day of work at the office, Adachi returned home right after rush hour. Once again, Kurosawa took the elevator with him, but this time he was alone. He briefly wondered where the girl was, if they may have had a fight or if she was just busy. As his curious mind flew a million miles away, his spatial awareness dwindled and Kurosawa’s hand brushed against his. It happened again; he heard what he could only assume were Kurosawa’s thoughts: “So beautiful.” Adachi wondered if he was thinking about his girlfriend.

“You have trouble sleeping, right?” Kurosawa asked with a curious expression.

“Huh?” Adachi blinked in confusion.

“You pace at night, right? I can hear you.”

“Uh, yes. I’m sorry.” Adachi scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. “Am I too loud?”

Kurosawa smiled widely. “No, of course not. I was just wondering what could keep you up at night.”

Adachi bit his lip. He didn’t like to share much about his personal life, but it was only fair since he kept his neighbour up every day. “I write at night; my mind gets more creative after dawn, but sometimes I need to walk around to focus on what I need to write next.”

“Hmm. I see,” Kurosawa said. “What are you writing?”

“A book. I want to be a published author; it’s one of my dreams.” Adachi wasn’t sure why he was oversharing, but there was something in Kurosawa that just made him want to talk.

“Well, good luck Adachi! I’m sure you’ll create wonderful stories,” Kurosawa said and at that moment, Adachi truly believed him.

“Thank you so much. You are very kind.”

Kurosawa nodded. Then, he seemed to notice the street food Adachi carried in a bag. “Eating in?”

“Yes, I usually do. I don’t want to waste the time I could use for writing on dining out.”

“Hmm. Well, have a good night.” Kurosawa said before exiting the elevator and the doors closed before Adachi could think of anything to say other than a mumbled: “Have a good night.”

--

A few hours later, past midnight, Kurosawa was still fully immersed in his recipe tasting. Ingredients all around him paired in helped him visualize what could be the key addition for a new speciality for his restaurant.

After almost ten years of working for one of the most exclusive restaurants in Tokyo, he finally felt ready to take the next step, to try and make this his own personal passion project a reality. The plan is to create or adapt a nice sample of dishes and desserts for it before renting a small place near his flat and opening it to the public.

Today’s recipe was quite simple, just a chocolate chip cookie with a twist. It needed to be interesting enough to make when he heard Adachi pacing, his lips curling into a small smile. Perhaps he could help his favourite neighbour.

With a renewed sense of determination, he put the basic ingredients in a bowl and folded them into a dough as he hummed along. Thinking of Adachi, he added coconut shavings and a spoonful of pure honey. Yes, maybe that would help.

Twenty minutes later he opened the oven and caught a whiff of his newest creation. He waited patiently as the cookies cooled and tried them; they were quite good but not special enough. There was something still missing. Well, they were still good to share, so he wrapped the rest of them in cellophane with a red ribbon and placed them in a pink box.

The elevator was often noisy when the entire building was silent like now, at two in the morning, so he decided to use the stairs instead, smiling to himself all the way up. He lifted his arm to knock but hesitated; Adachi often looked like a deer in the headlights when caught off guard and someone knocking on his door in the middle of the night would probably make him nervous. Kurosawa placed the box on the floor and knocked a few times before power walking to the stairs. For a brief moment, he felt the urge to hide and check what Adachi’s expression would be when he found the present, but he decided that it was perhaps a bit weird and left before the door opened.

He paused, his heart skipping a beat when he heard Adachi say “Huh? Hello?” followed by the sound of the door closing shortly after.

Kurosawa continued down the stairs, feeling giddy just thinking about Adachi tasting his creation. He entered his flat and after cleaning his kitchen, he laid in bed, still smiling. He could no longer hear Adachi’s pacing; maybe he just needed something sweet to continue writing.

-

One floor above, Adachi opened the box and his senses went haywire, as he inhaled the smell coming from it. His eyes snapped open, noting he had closed them without realizing. He carefully untied the ribbon, revealing a mouth-watering sight before him.

There was a small yellow card with very neat handwriting that read: “I hope these make you smile just like I smile when I think of you.” Adachi’s face went completely red. Who could possibly be leaving gifts at his doorstep with such a message? He honestly had no idea. Still, it would be a waste not to eat them.

He shook his head and went about making a big batch of tea in his favourite tea set, consisting of a white porcelain teapot and a small cup in the shape of a cat’s body, its lid completing the face and ears. It was his lucky Neko set; he only pulled it out on special occasions since it had helped him finish his first-ever long story, but now it was necessary. With a nice batch of red tea and the special cookies, he would be able to tackle anything.

Finally sitting down to write for the night, he poured himself a cup of tea, added honey and took a sip followed by a bite of his first cookie. He was pleasantly surprised to find that both went together fairly well. He hummed and closed his eyes letting his imagination fly.

He could see two small children play-fighting with sticks in a field with tall grass, laughing and chasing each other.

Adachi’s eyes snapped open. He smiled and started typing furiously. This could be the perfect set-up for the main characters as they weren’t properly fleshed out yet. He still didn't know who they were as people, but he felt one step closer to figuring it out.

Overall, it was a very productive night. He stayed up until four in the morning writing more details, making small notes for later chapters and adding music to a playlist that would accompany him in this writing journey.

#cherry magic #cherry magic fic #mine

[mob-likes-milk]

cupcake

Pairing: Reader x Tome Kurata (Mob Psycho 100)

Summary: (Fluff) Tome thought she would finally rest in her club after a long and stressful day, but her intentions were halted after she discovered a chocolate cupcake, nicely sitting on the club’s table.

Warning: none!

Word count: 1431

A/N: not a request but I thought of this small story the other day and wanted to publish it, I hope you’ll enjoy!

The warm atmosphere of the afternoon was slowly starting to decrease, the sky turning into a soft shade of apricot, dusted with trails of sugar. The usual classes finally ended to let the middle school students engage to their club activity. In one of the main corridors, Tome made her way to her club’s room, arms full of junk food she bought the day before. Her mind wasn’t focusing on anything, but to finally get some time to rest after a quite stressful day.

She struggled to slide open the light blue door correctly, a few bags of chips jumping out of her grip.

“G-gosh, I should take multiple trips next time.” The raven-haired girl sighed, her footsteps hastily sounded through the room to the table at the far back. She finally let her arms free; the food landed on the smooth surface like a waterfall, colored packages covered the table with a few Japanese brand names and mascots. But there was something else sitting next to the packages on the long desks, which caught her attention.

 A pleasantly done brown cupcake was disposed on the center of the table to Tome’s surprise. Her curiosity took the advantage and she went to investigate the unusual sight. The faint smell of chocolate tickled the young girl’s nostrils, her stomach softly grumbled at the simple vision of the backed good. She picked it up with both hands, her eyes sparkled at how perfect the cupcake looked, the person who baked it sure dedicated time to make it look appetizing.

She noticed a small pastel pink note on the table, previously hidden under the little food cake and extended one hand towards it. She was forcing herself to not bite down the cupcake already; a warning voice in her head kept telling her it was maybe a lure to poison her, in some sort.

               When she opened the letter with her lanky fingers, she was taken aback by the careful writing; it was so pleasantly made that every kanji looked like a drawing of its own. Tome started to read with concentration:

“Hello Miss President of the Telepathy club,

I’m sorry if you don’t like chocolate cake, but I heard you talking with your friends in the hallway complaining the club doesn’t have enough food to satisfy your needs and thought you will maybe enjoy a home-made cupcake. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to make some yesterday, but after I heard your conversation, I made my decision clear. I really hope you’ll like it!

PS: I haven’t made the cake poisonous if you think it looks suspicious, you don’t have to worry while eating it.

-A secret admirer”

A delicate cherry hue appeared under her long eyelashes, a feeling of flutter taking over her senses. Who could be that mysterious secret admirer? By the note they left behind, it reads like they weren’t a club member, or someone she was close to.

               The door of the club opened in a swift movement, Tome’s mind came back to reality as few familiar faces came to view. Her face described bewilderment as her thoughts were still bothering her functionally, the small pink letter in one hand and the chocolate cupcake in the other.

“Is everything alright, Tome-senpai?” Mameta asked in a worried tone, it was rare to see his president so deep in thought.

“I… I have a secret admirer.” Her blush deepened in color, turning crimson. She was still perplexed by the discovery, her heart clenched in its cage, her mind felt dizzy by the comfortable feeling; she was completely out of herself by this new sensation.

“Oh! That’s awesome!” Haruto, another member, exclaimed with joy. “I knew someone would be head over heels of you, Tome-chan.”

A proud smile now adorned her burning face, she felt honored to have someone finally admiring her to who she was. Her emotions took advantage of her senses and she stuffed the chocolate backed good right in her mouth, creamy icing now covering her smiling lips and porcelain cheeks.

“I am going to find this secret admirer! And nobody can tell me otherwise!” Tome shined in pure bliss, her right arm pointing at the ceiling of the room. The members of the club started to clap to her eagerness, knowing how determined Tome can be.

                 The Body Improvement club members entered the room at the end of her small speech, their expression showed surprise and confusion by the ongoing situation.

“And you!” She pointed to the smallest boy of the opposite club. “You’ll help me find them!”

“-W-what, me? And who?” Shigeo queried while pointing to himself, his voice shaking and stuttering from the sudden attention.

“Yes, you Mob! You will help me find my secret admirer with your powers! And by will, I mean right now!” She shouted before she took the frail arm of Shigeo in hers, starting to run through the main and empty corridor, overexcited by the new mystery she has to solve.

“T-Tome-chan! No, not so f-fast!” The young boy complained, already feeling drained by the run which only started, to his displeasure. With a grin from ear to ear, she turned to him and exclaimed:

“-There is no time to slow down!

-W-well, maybe you’ll need some time to clean your face…”

 -

 The next day, Tome was even more strong-willed to find the person behind the cherry blossom pink letter. She investigated every corner of Salt Middle School with Shigeo on her side to find evidences, but it was revealed to be futile: no pink pages notebook hidden in a locker or a scrambled up paper with writing of a letter.

With her ongoing optimistic attitude, Tome decided to go to her club room earlier than normal to see if the mysterious person came back to give another delicious cake of any sort. On her way, she caught the sight of an unknown student fumbling around with their hands, looking at the baby blue sky outside with nervousness written all over their face. With slight consideration of their situation, the young girl slowly tottered towards them.

“Hey, is everything alright?” She asked unsure, a frown forming on her past reassured look.

A faint and timid yelp escaped the trembling lips of the younger student, their eyes round after being startled by the President of the Telepathy club herself. A shameful blush dusted the soft face of the middle school student, their (e/c) orbs carefully looking away from the Club’s President perplexed stare.

“I’m, I am okay Tome-senpai. Thank you for asking…” An innocent smile formed across their burning cheeks, the warm sensation of being special gently scattered through them. The older student’s concern of their feeling was something incredibly delightful.

 “You know my name?” Tome suddenly questioned, wondering if she heard them right. “I wouldn’t have thought that some younger students would know me, what’s your name?” Her finger rubbed her chin, wondering about the revelation. Has she done something recently to be known by students she never saw before? The younger teen was cute if she was honest, so she wasn’t bothered by the thought that much.

“U-um, my name is (Y-Y/n)…” They nervously whispered, turning their head to hide the cardinal red blush from the black iris of the older girl. Trembling from stress, they started to walk off the scene.

” I’m- I’m sorry Tome-senpai, but I need tO GO RIGHT NOW!” The second grader ran off the corridor after shouting their last words, completely flustered by their position. Tome watched (Y/n) sprinting out of the empty corridor to the next exit.

“Don’t run in the hall! Or you will get caught…” Her voice drained as the timid student was out of sight.

She lets out a deep sigh while deliberating the encounter in her head once again; it was the first time she saw them around school, such a shy and polite student she just meet. She won’t lie, they were incredibly cute, and their uniform suited them so nicely, almost perfectly... She violently shook her head, ‘don’t think like that! They are younger than you, Tome!’ The girl scolded to herself, trying to calm her troubling mind. With clear footsteps and thoughts, she made her way to the initial destination of her research; the Telepathy club’s room.

She opened the sidling door, a smile returning to her past serious and puzzled self just by thinking of the other day. Yet, the cheerful expression soon faded to one which left her open-mouthed in surprise: another small cupcake was waiting for her on the club’s table.

#imagine #mp100 #mp100 imagines #mp100 preferences #mob psycho 100 #mob psycho one hundred #mob psycho anime #mob psycho 100 imagines #mob psycho 100 preferences #tome #tome kurata #tome kurata x reader #x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #fluff

[powercouplepress]

EXPLORING INTIMACY: AN INTERVIEW WITH CLARICE NG

In the month or so in the run up to our launch on April 13th, we are going to be interviewing a number of the artists whose work we will be distributing. The first of these is the artist and illustrator Clarice Ng, whose book To You Out There, Vol. 1: You Are Not Alone will be available from us from June 2019.

Nat: Hi Clarice, first of all would you like to introduce yourself?

Clarice: Hey, I’m Clarice! I’m an artist from Singapore who's currently based in London. I’m in my final year doing an illustration degree but recently I've been branching out into interactive, installation art and ceramics.

N: Great, I was just looking at your last installation on your website - and I definitely want to talk about it later. But first of all, shall we talk about the book we will be stocking, "To You Out There, Vol. 1: You Are Not Alone"?

C: Yes! "To You Out There, Vol. 1: You Are Not Alone" was my graduation project in my previous school, SOTA. It's a book that reads as a personal letter that's addressed to the reader, with the general yet important message that ‘you are not alone’ in your struggles. I mostly wanted to address personal doubts commonly faced by individuals and to offer words of comfort, conveniently packaged in the form of a book. I also wanted to explore the intimacy between the author and reader through the act of 'reading' and did so by creating an authorial voice that blurs the lines between character and narrator, in a tone as it if were written by an old friend. It got a positive response when it was first exhibited in a WIP show, to the point where visitors wrote personal notes that directly addressed me and my work, saying how much it impacted them. This prompted me to approach a local publisher just so I could extend the message by making it more accessible to the public, as opposed to the niche audience that would pass through a gallery space.

N: That's impressive, I thought when it had an almost diary-like tone, as if the reader was an imaginary friend used as an exercise to allow you to write, perhaps. But the idea of it exploring the relationship between author and audience is really interesting, especially in relation to your other work.

C: Haha yes that's a theme that I'm looking to explore a lot more into. I wrote my dissertation on it too - on how the relationship between the artist and audience is constantly being redefined.

N: One of the things I really enjoy about it is how, even though it is quite conceptual and in parts has quite dark content, the book is also very endearing and quite funny.

C: Yeah, as much as it was serious, I wanted to balance it out with lightheartedness and humour by including little 'breaks', hence the little cartoon girls. It's almost like how your mind wanders off in a conversation without you realising but then you snap back into it.

N: The work on the artist/audience relationships, does that relate to the themes of isolation present in the book?

C: My dissertation revolves more on the traditional structures found within the art world where the artist is seen as the 'producer' of the work while the audience merely 'receives'. But with artists like Sophie Calle and Marina Abramović, that traditional structure is being challenged as the audience is given a greater power in impacting the result of the work. Bringing it back to the book, I did include a 'write back' feature in this current edition where the reader is given an opportunity to respond, which would enable the beginnings of dialogue rather than creating work that exists to talk ‘at’ you.

N: I think that your idea of audience or viewer involvement is really interesting as it relates to books - because a book is an object that opens up to you - physically as you open it, and thematically and aesthetically as you read it and I think that the way you have made this connection somewhat more explicit in the book (and with the write back section) is really interesting.

C: Haha, aw thank you. I totally agree with you, it’s really the tactile nature of books that gives it that unique experience, from how it fits in your hands to the flipping of a page. The authorial voice and the use of language also makes it a lot more personal because of its direct sense of communication.

N: On a less conceptual note, I really like the emphasis of self care in TYOT. Is that something you think is becoming more important to people today - I know in my personal experience that taking care of ourselves seems quite often neglected. But simultaneously there is a growing move to centre self care.

C: Yeah, I would say that it's most prominent in TYOT, because it was a theme that I heavily related to during that period of my life. Incidentally, I think that the emphasis on the need for self-care has resurfaced itself in my personal life as well. Perhaps it's because of my general nature as a person, I would say that I tend to put others first and end up forgetting that I'm human too. And all of a sudden you find yourself being stretched too thin. Sometimes you need that external reminder from someone, or something I suppose.

N: I think that's quite a universal experience - people sort of struggle to treat themselves with the kindness they treat others.

C: Very true, also, as much as TYOT is a letter to the reader, it was also a letter to myself as well.

I Begin To Write by Clarice Ng, install view

N: I was wondering if you’d like to talk about any of your other works, specifically the I Begin To Write installation? I really like the little porcelain figures.

C: Yes, those were recent experiments. They were the first batch of porcelain that came out in fact!

N: The install itself; you had set up a small desk and chair with a notebook and pen for people to write in - how did that go? Some of the writing I saw was quite funny, was that what you expected?

C: Some of it did come out quite humorous, I really didn't know what to expect! Especially since this was its first trial run. For this piece, I tried to take on the role of 'artist as a facilitator', where I would provide a platform for the audience to interact with the work and with each other. What happens after that would be out of my hands and into theirs, which is the beauty of it, I guess.

N: I think it worked really well, there seemed to be a running theme of dogs and personal and uplifting bits of diarist writing.

C: I really enjoyed those. I think that the contributions that I was most surprised by were the illustrations.

N: Some them were quite absurd, but I was expecting more joke writing if I’m honest. People took it quite seriously, which I think is interesting given it was a public space. You wrote in the TYOT book that it should ‘be read in solitude’ but this was placed in a public gallery space and people were quite candid - what was your reaction to that?

C: I think part of it was the nature in which the installation was positioned, down to the use of the ink nib dip pen to the quality of the paper it was printed on, which created a delicate, deliberate and ritualistic feel to the experience. I was hoping to create a safe space where the audience can engage with the piece comfortably and from the writings that came out of it, I think that it was effective. Let's say I used a store-bought ruled notebook and a cheap ballpoint pen for the installation, I'd say that the outcome would have turned out quite different.

N: I think so too. Creating a safe environment through design is something you have obviously thought about. I like that you were acting as a facilitator of intimacy. I especially liked the point where the 26 year olds were writing to each other about getting older, and a 60 year old chipped in.

C: Yes, I actually knew three of the people who were involved in that four-part conversation. I was present when each of them were participating, so it was anonymous between them but I saw how it played out. Part of the work was how I wanted to create a space where people from unlikely backgrounds were given the opportunity to interact with each other - how everyone who passed through the gallery space are all at different points of their lives, but the common ground they shared is the fact that they visited the space during the period of the exhibition. I think that anonymity allows you to bring out your true, unfiltered thoughts which can be a double-edged sword at times.

N: Very true, obviously anonymity can be very negative - such as online in the worst parts of the internet, but I think you've found a way to make it much more positive.

C: Yeah, that's where the need for curating comes into play, both in the delivery and establishment of context and environment. I try to curate the context in which my works are received because I know how much it affects the overall impact of the work. Which is what I tried to do for TYOT, where it would have been received very differently if it were read in a crowded, public space as opposed to a dimly lit corner of your room on a quiet evening. So in that sense, all I can do is produce the work, but the emphasis is the unique interaction that the reader has with the work.

---------

You can follow her work updates and activity on instagram: @clriceng and her website: cargocollective.com/clariceng

#powercouplepress #books #zines #illustration

[i-lost-my-soul-can-you-help]

Character Description and Possible Short Story?

Asteria Cometer

           This woman was a goddess. A wonderful human being that had given me the chance to marry her. My wife. My beautiful soulmate. Painters would tire trying to paint her magnificence since it was far too great, while poets and writers would have too much too say about her, that books would be published with thousands of pages, only to describe her appearance.

Asteria Cometer, a woman I had met by chance on a walk to a job interview. In the small town of Akranes in Iceland, it wasn’t hard to spot a new face in a crowd of familiar people, but for Asteria, it was as if everyone was ignoring the living goddess that walked among them.

           During a cloudy day in this small fishing town, my eyes caught glimpse of her curls bouncing in the wind with every step she took. Her movement was fluid and almost phantom like, gliding across the streets as if nothing stood in her way. Although the sun hid behind the clouds, wandering eyes of tourists and civilians trying to find it, she shone brighter than it ever could, a soft golden glow encompassing her very being. Attracted to her magic aura, I felt entranced and obliged to go speak to her. When I did, her eyes, oh her dazzling dark bay eyes devoured me. I felt like a raindrop compared to her sunbeam. Mixed in with her brown eyes, drops of silver lined the rims, making it as though stars were created there, and released in the night sky. It felt like looking at a galaxy, the swirl of those colors captivating anyone who looked too long. Her oval face, painted with freckles, added personality to her. A complimentary of such to her mesmerizing eyes. Although most freckles cluttered at the bridge of her nose, a small button nose that accentuated her personality nicely, they spread out across her face and some down her neck as they moved like a tidal wave to the rest of her body.

           The wooden door groaned against my weight as I leaned on it, admiring my beautiful wife as she worked on one of her novels. A picture frame of the day we got married decorated the small off-white wooden desk I built her the only thing that stood on it other than a black teardrop shaped lamp. The sun’s rays from outside shone through the small rounded window, illuminating the room in a glow dimmer than Asteria’s own aura. Her skin, the color of dark chocolate, absorbed the light, yet she illuminated the room in a different glow. Her honey blonde curls strewn across her shoulders, shook once in a while from her movement. She hadn’t noticed my presence yet, and her back was to me as I observed her shoulders expand and cave in with every breath she took. Her fingers, scarred by a past mistake that she was too embarrassed to speak about, furiously typed on her laptop, words appearing on the screen almost as if she used magic to conjure up the world she had created in her mind.

“Urgh I can’t do it!” Her fingers stilled, coming up to her hair she clutched them, her curls stretching.

I chuckled, and bounced from the wooden frame, coming right behind her and putting my calloused hands on her small shoulders. I felt her slightly jump from where she sat in her chair and her dark bay eyes with little specks of silver glanced up at me. I kissed her forehead and pulled up the little worn-down stool beside her chair.

“Darling, don’t talk like that. You’ve written more than one novel. This is going to be another bestseller and you know it!” I encouraged her.

She looked to me, and I felt like it was only the two of us in this world. The ocean beyond the cliff from where the house stood silenced, birds stopped mid-flight and stilled for a moment. She smiled; a smile that could make anyone bow down before her.

“I know but like… it’s not so easy and like I don’t like my novel. I wish it would just write itself ya know?” Her accent, small in comparison to when she first arrived at Akranes, was a sweet melody to my ears. It was a refreshing distraction from the boring day to day schedule of my life.

I smiled and brought her hands up to my lips, her skin cold like a porcelain doll.

“You can do it.” With those words I lifted myself to my feet, towering over my small wife. The floors creaked with every step as I moved to the door frame. As if on cue, the birds started squawking a horrible tune, and the waves came crashing onto the earth.

Her eyes gleamed with a new purpose and sense of determinism, and she turned back to her laptop, fingers furiously typing once more, new ideas being brought to life. Secretly, I leaned against the door frame once more, and went back to admiring my wife, for a while before turning back and heading towards the front door.

           The sun shone brightly on my too pale skin. I walked towards the town, the heat seeping through my layers of skin, reaching the core of my bones. My heart swelled at the idea of coming back home later on to kiss my wife and sweep her off her feet. But first, I had to do something today, something so secret that even she didn’t know what my actual daytime job was.

           The quiet morning dew of a new day settled on the meadow grass as I walked through the land. The sky, a soft gray with a dash of blue overshadowed the town of Akranes. Although it looked as though a storm so horrendous was brewing at the edge of the cliff, everyone who had lived here long enough knew that it was nothing to worry about. There were much darker and harmful things instead that lurked in the shadows of trees and homes, and at the depths of the seas. Fisherman constantly lost battles with the creatures, creatures that were told and put off as myth and legends. Unfortunately, many things that were thought to be imaginary, actually roamed the earth beside us.

           A soft rumbling came from underneath me and I stopped. I picked up my pace and saw the town square from the small hill I stood on. Nothing too big, mostly bricks of white with black or red roofing. The docks flowed with different sizes, shapes, and colored boats. Asteria and I didn’t particularly like fishing, so we hadn’t wasted money on a boat, but other than us two, everyone else owned a boat.

***********

  The red wooden door beckoned me, called to my very soul, deep and hidden within mazes and chest. I did this for a living and yet… I couldn’t bring myself to knock, to open the door and smell the aroma of lavender and lily rose. Laughter and voices sounded behind me, locals walking with their spouses or friends, enjoying the time they had. My heart steeled itself. I needed to do it now or Asteria would grow suspicious. I couldn’t have her know. My life would be ruined.

           Thump, Thump

           The door knocker felt heavy in my hands as I kept lifting it and dropping it back down. The metal was cool to the touch, the silver a sharp contrast against the bright red door.

           I heard shuffling from inside, and feet stomping. My heart pounded against my rib cage. Quickly and smoothly, I took my ear pierce from my jean pockets and inserted the chip into my ear. With a press of a button, a deafening ringing exploded into my ear for a split second. Just in time, the door opened to reveal the owner of the house.

           “Oh. Hello.” They replied breathlessly.

           “Hi sweetheart.”

#my writing #short writing #character #character description #writing #writing prompt #writers #writers on tumblr #fiction

[endlessarchite]

The Reason The Master Bath Makeover Has Taken So Long

Raise your hand if you remember when I took out the flooring in my master bath?

I know. It’s been a long time. I honestly had to look it up myself. And the sobering answer? 2013. I had just nearly finished the guest bath reno and through some enthusiastic encouragement from my dad, decided he and I should immediately start on the master. Because, after all, taking the shit that’s still fully functional out of my house is exactly what will make me get things done, right?

Well, it happened that I was also working on my kitchen and my dining room at the time. Oh, and my staircase, too. My house was one giant blob of chaos. But we did it anyway. I learned new, disgusting things about my house (I still want to make a “What the FRASS?” t-shirt at some point), and assumed that in less than a year’s time (at the most, knowing how I can drag things out!), my master bath would be put back together again.

As it turned out, the bath would be unfinished for much longer than that. I have been using the nearly-(but not really, either)-finished guest bathroom ever since. But why, exactly? Have I just been lazy? Do I hate showering? Or is it something else?

Well, I can assure you, lazy isn’t how I’d defend this DIY tale — I have been working on a lot. of. other. shit. since. then.

The short answer for why it’s not finished comes down to simple momentum: this bathroom just didn’t want to get made. It has been filled with good intentions and a lot of bad juju. Through one mishap or another, I’ve had false start after false start. And in the end, I had to learn to overcome obstacles in my own time.

There was the fact that I was already working on too many projects to begin with — a lot to get distracted with when I don’t really feel like doing tile work (and trust me, you need to be in the mood to do tile work).

There was when I thought a pipe burst and flooded the room. It turned out to be just a leaky valve, but I felt pretty defeated from the stress and I ignored the bathroom once more.

And finally, there was the tile floor install. In 2015, I decided enough was enough at one point and thought hiring some outside help would be a good way to jumpstart progress. Unfortunately, it wound up being one of the bigger setbacks. I was hesitant at first, but still really excited when I hired the job and when I left home to allow the work to be done without my hovering (Dad supervised in my absence). I was thrilled to come home and see tile instead of nothing on the floor. Finally!

But as I took a closer and closer look after it was done and prepped to start grouting, I realized that there had been a lot of miscommunication and the job was not up to my liking. Womp, womp.

I told the guy I didn’t care whether he used a 1/16″ grout line or 1/8″ grout line. He wound up using both rather than picking one, without really much distinction (it wasn’t like all horizontal lines with one thickness and vertical lines with another; some would taper, some would just be thin or thicker, etc.).

I told him not to worry too much about cleaning up the buckets and sponges and stuff after he was done (I was home right after he wrapped up the work, so I would have time to pick up all that stuff). But what I didn’t expect to find was extra globs of thinset all over the room (since this was rectified porcelain tile, we had to use a bag and mix it instead of just buying a bucket of mastic). It was on the tub, squished up between the tiles, etc.

Many of the tiles weren’t level with each other, which would also be a problem once grout went in. Tiles should pass what’s called a “quarter test”, which means you can run a quarter on the surface without it getting caught on the lip of another tile. As you can see, mine was up to 1/8″ difference in height between some of the corners. My guess is that there had been some stepping on the tiles after they went in, which would mash some of them down and squeeze the underlying thinset out between grout lines (in general, you want to avoid stepping on freshly laid tiles because your body weight will undo your leveling work!).

And finally, the tiles around the toilet flange were not cut to fit well, so part of the tile was resting on top instead of around the toilet opening. The tile itself was too hard to try to correct with a ceramic blade (there are some multi-tools that have certain blades that can cut through tile, but this was not that kind of tile). I was able to pry several pieces up successfully and cut new ones before things cured, but the second tile on the front side of the flange was already hardened. This wouldn’t be just an aesthetic problem like the grout lines; if I didn’t correct this, there was a strong chance that the toilet would not sit flat on the tile or I would eventually have leaks. And no one wants to sit on a rocking, leaking toilet!

Cleaning up all of that wasn’t really what I anticipated, and it wound up being a couple of extra hours that night of scraping half-cured thinset and inspecting everything to try to get it ready for grout. Even though I said you kind of have to really be in the mood to do tile work, tile isn’t really forgiving once it’s in, so if I hadn’t cleaned it up as soon as I found it, I would be in bigger trouble the longer I waited. Fully cured thinset is kind of like concrete when it hardens, and while it wasn’t that tough to get up on glazed areas like the tub, there was a much higher risk of chipping the tile trying to remove adhesive (the floor tile isn’t glazed). If I didn’t get it up between tiles, grout could also be an issue if it’s too thin (it has a greater chance for cracking later on).

After a couple of hours on my knees and hurriedly trying to clean up the thinset and cut new tiles, I was really upset; not just about the job, or the idea of paying for work that didn’t meet expectations, or having to remove tile and redo the work myself — it was the added layer of family dynamics that also made me feel really conflicted. I hired a family friend to do the work (not the one I’ve had help in the past… a different guy), and I took his word on how much experience he’d had at installing tile (I agreed after he’d done a different type of flooring job for my dad). My dad had only the best of intentions when he kept nudging me to just hire it out and arranged for someone to do it, and the family friend was also just a friendly guy looking for some work and wanted to help.

So, basically, I was stuck between a bad execution and knowing I’d have to confess this at some point and possibly make people unhappy by telling them (it would be inevitable that it would come up; my dad and I discuss progress with my house just about every time I see him, so he would ask more and more questions if I still kept pushing back the grout job after years of not getting this done already). My gut told me to wait and do the floor myself, and I’d ignored it because it seemed like moving ahead was the thing that everyone else wanted to do, and it made sense… and sheesh, I couldn’t argue that it hadn’t been damn long enough! The more I thought about it though, the more I realized that this was a lesson I needed to learn. I’m in my thirties, yet the dynamic with my parents hasn’t changed much; I have often listened to their advice over my own, even with a house they don’t live in. I’m sure that others can relate, but it’s still weird, right?

I don’t mean to say that they don’t have my best interest in mind, but I do think that learning to listen to your own inner voice is a huge thing that a lot of us stumble with — especially if it’s in conflict in some way with those we love and whose intentions are good. I’ve gained a lot of my own skills and developed my own instincts, and I need to learn to trust those more.

I took a few hours to make as many corrections as I could, and while it isn’t perfect and needed at least one more fix (the tile that is resting on the flange), I was a lot happier with the way it looked. Not perfect, but maybe okay enough to not have to rip it all out.

When it comes to DIY, eventually, your mojo just starts to wane after a few setbacks in a single room. This tile issue was kind of my last straw of trying to get it done sooner rather than later, so once again I put it off. Sure, it was ridiculous that I had an entire room and square footage I wasn’t using, but it’s only me that lives here, so if I wasn’t ready and had a working bathroom, I just plain stopped caring. I told myself it was fine to wait, and it’s ok to let yourself work on the other things you’re passionate about and wait for inspiration. To get my momentum back, I had to work on other things that made me feel like I was accomplishing something. Lots of somethings. So, I did.

And now, finally, I found that inspiration and the materials to get things done right — even after another setback yet again, but that’s for a different post. This time, I have a deadline and I’m setting that goal to meet it, head on, challenges and all. I’m even doing more upgrades than I thought when I first started. I can’t wait to show you the plans! More on my inspiration should be posted by next Friday, but demo posts begin first thing next week!

The post The Reason The Master Bath Makeover Has Taken So Long appeared first on The Ugly Duckling House.

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The Reason The Master Bath Makeover Has Taken So Long published first on http://ift.tt/2qxZz2j

[rollinbrigittenv8]

Four Seasons Founder Not Worried About Airbnb But Ritz-Carlton Is on his Mind

Pictured is Four Seasons founder IIsadore Sharp, who believes the hotel/residential model has served the company well. Mark Sommerfeld / Bloomberg

Skift Take: Four Seasons, which was bought out by Bill Gates and Prince Al-Waleed bin Talal in 2007, has an ambitious pipeline in the works. At its end of the market in coming years, will it be able to adapt to changing customer tastes — or does it even have to?

— Dennis Schaal

Four Seasons founder Isadore Sharp doesn’t golf.

That might come as a surprise to guests at his Toronto hillside home where floor-to-ceiling windows offer a clear view of the lush fairways below at the Rosedale Golf Club in the city’s north end. “I had no time for golf,” the Canadian hotelier said.

“Issy” Sharp, 85, is still busy chipping away at the luxury hotel empire he started six decades ago in the red-light district of downtown Toronto. Spanning the dawn of overseas jet travel to a digital era of disruptors, Four Seasons Hotels and Resorts remains bound to Sharp’s guiding principle that he says crosses all cultures and religions: “If you treat people well, the way you would like to be treated, they will do the same.”

The builder-turned-lodging mogul believes the so-called Golden Rule is why the company will remain a dominant five-star player on the world stage even as rivals like Ritz-Carlton expand and new threats such as Airbnb emerge. Four Seasons eventually will grow from 105 properties in 43 countries to as many as 250 locations over time, he said. Rome is among markets of interest.

“We don’t see an upside limit at all because the marketplace has grown dramatically,” Sharp said in an interview earlier this month from his home/office adorned with paintings by Lawren Harris and other “Group of Seven” artists and an extensive porcelain collection curated by his wife Rosalie, an interior designer responsible for the look of several hotels.

Gates Support

Though he relinquished the chief executive post and day-to-day operations of the chain seven years ago, Sharp remains chairman and holds a 5 percent ownership stake following a 2007 buyout by Microsoft co-founder Bill Gates and Prince Al-Waleed bin Talal of Saudi Arabia. Sharp continues to wield “aesthetic” control, meaning he approves all of the closely held company’s “concepts.”

Gates and Al-Waleed are “very active in supporting management” and unlikely to sell their stakes, creating “certainty and stability” for Four Seasons’ more than 45,000 employees, said Sharp, adding that every person hired is interviewed at least four or five times to ensure the right fit.

“Sharp created the now legendary Four Seasons brand and unique culture based on his commitment to exceptional service and unrivaled luxury,” said Charles Zehren, spokesman for Cascade Investment LLC, Gates’ main investment vehicle. “We at Cascade are very proud to be associated with Issy and the entire team at Four Seasons, which is a valuable part of our long-term investment portfolio.”

Gates and the prince seek to make the company worth “a lot more” than the $3.7 billion valuation at the time of the 2007 deal that took the company private, said Sharp, who declined to comment on Four Seasons’ financial outlook except to say it has always turned a profit.

Avoid Debt

Sharp credits the strong balance sheet to being debt averse and steering clear of side businesses. Concepts pitched and rejected over the years included Four Seasons-branded nursing homes.

But the expansion in the mid 1980s to the hotel/residential model, which now accounts for about 80 percent of Four Seasons properties in the pipeline, was a natural fit, Sharp said. The idea, which first debuted in Boston, is to cater to customers interested in buying a home with Four Seasons branding and design, as well as access to hotel service and amenities.

The hotel chain now has some stand-alone residential properties, including one under construction in London, a market the company first entered in 1970 with a high-end hotel that became the “prototype of what we build to this day,” Sharp said.

Canada

The son of Polish Jewish immigrants, Sharp started adult life working for his father’s construction business after getting a degree in architecture. He chose to stay in Canada’s largest city in spite of blatant discrimination at the time.

“This golf course wouldn’t allow me to walk out there back then,” he said, gesturing to the Rosedale Club out his living-room window. Though Sharp doesn’t indulge in the sport, it’s in his blood: His father Max took up golf at about age 65 and shot a hole-in-one at 90, while his sister was club champion at her Toronto-area course.

Today, after decades of new immigrant arrivals, the now culturally diverse Toronto is a “great city because there are no minorities.”

Four Seasons Chief Executive Officer Allen Smith, who was hired four years ago to help the hotelier expand, says people are often surprised to learn the global company is based in Toronto.

“I occasionally meet people in Toronto who are surprised we are Toronto based,” said Smith, a dual U.S.-Canadian citizen who grew up in the U.S.

“There is a groundedness and real decency associated with Canadians in general in my experience. The principles that underlie the culture of the company, the Golden Rule, is very reflective of that,” Smith said in an interview at the Four Seasons in Toronto’s Yorkville district.

Apple Connection

Many aspects of today’s standard hotel service were started by Sharp. Four Seasons was first in providing shampoo and other toiletries, hairdryers and monogrammed bathrobes. It opened the first hotels in North America with a full-service spa and complimentary newspapers with room-service delivery. A focus on a comfortable mattress set off a hotel bed rivalry that continues today.

Steve Jobs, the Apple Inc. co-founder who died in 2011, took inspiration from Four Seasons when forming his company’s retail empire and approach to customer service, Carmine Gallo wrote in his book “The Apple Experience: Secrets to Building Insanely Great Customer Loyalty.”

“How much better of an endorsement can you get of what you are doing than one of the world’s greatest visionaries copying what you do,” said Sharp, who early on did things like change the pillows when he found out a politician stopped staying at the Toronto hotel because a rival had better ones.

These days, Sharp doesn’t go into the Toronto head office. His main focus now is spending time doing whatever his wife of 62 years wants to do. Still, it’s clear he puts a lot of thought into both the future of the company and industry.

New locations under consideration for Four Seasons include Rome, where Smith says the company is “conspicuously absent,” along with Venice and Nashville, Tennessee.

India Move

In China, Four Seasons has nine hotels and several under development. The company is also bullish on India, where the number of people moving from the farms into the city is said to be on the scale of all of Canada, according to Sharp.

Sharp isn’t worried about new arrivals such as Airbnb Inc., which he calls the “largest hotel company.” Marriott International Inc.’s Ritz-Carlton is “still the most formidable competitor because they are owned by one of the best hotel companies,” he said.

“Marriott builds as many hotels in one year as we operate,” Sharp said. “But we are the largest at this end of the market, therefore we have the competitive advantage.”

©2017 Bloomberg L.P.

This article was written by Kim Chipman from Bloomberg and was legally licensed through the NewsCred publisher network. Please direct all licensing questions to [email protected].

[touristguidebuzz]

Four Seasons Founder Not Worried About Airbnb But Ritz-Carlton Is on his Mind

Pictured is Four Seasons founder IIsadore Sharp, who believes the hotel/residential model has served the company well. Mark Sommerfeld / Bloomberg

Skift Take: Four Seasons, which was bought out by Bill Gates and Prince Al-Waleed bin Talal in 2007, has an ambitious pipeline in the works. At its end of the market in coming years, will it be able to adapt to changing customer tastes — or does it even have to?

— Dennis Schaal

Four Seasons founder Isadore Sharp doesn’t golf.

That might come as a surprise to guests at his Toronto hillside home where floor-to-ceiling windows offer a clear view of the lush fairways below at the Rosedale Golf Club in the city’s north end. “I had no time for golf,” the Canadian hotelier said.

“Issy” Sharp, 85, is still busy chipping away at the luxury hotel empire he started six decades ago in the red-light district of downtown Toronto. Spanning the dawn of overseas jet travel to a digital era of disruptors, Four Seasons Hotels and Resorts remains bound to Sharp’s guiding principle that he says crosses all cultures and religions: “If you treat people well, the way you would like to be treated, they will do the same.”

The builder-turned-lodging mogul believes the so-called Golden Rule is why the company will remain a dominant five-star player on the world stage even as rivals like Ritz-Carlton expand and new threats such as Airbnb emerge. Four Seasons eventually will grow from 105 properties in 43 countries to as many as 250 locations over time, he said. Rome is among markets of interest.

“We don’t see an upside limit at all because the marketplace has grown dramatically,” Sharp said in an interview earlier this month from his home/office adorned with paintings by Lawren Harris and other “Group of Seven” artists and an extensive porcelain collection curated by his wife Rosalie, an interior designer responsible for the look of several hotels.

Gates Support

Though he relinquished the chief executive post and day-to-day operations of the chain seven years ago, Sharp remains chairman and holds a 5 percent ownership stake following a 2007 buyout by Microsoft co-founder Bill Gates and Prince Al-Waleed bin Talal of Saudi Arabia. Sharp continues to wield “aesthetic” control, meaning he approves all of the closely held company’s “concepts.”

Gates and Al-Waleed are “very active in supporting management” and unlikely to sell their stakes, creating “certainty and stability” for Four Seasons’ more than 45,000 employees, said Sharp, adding that every person hired is interviewed at least four or five times to ensure the right fit.

“Sharp created the now legendary Four Seasons brand and unique culture based on his commitment to exceptional service and unrivaled luxury,” said Charles Zehren, spokesman for Cascade Investment LLC, Gates’ main investment vehicle. “We at Cascade are very proud to be associated with Issy and the entire team at Four Seasons, which is a valuable part of our long-term investment portfolio.”

Gates and the prince seek to make the company worth “a lot more” than the $3.7 billion valuation at the time of the 2007 deal that took the company private, said Sharp, who declined to comment on Four Seasons’ financial outlook except to say it has always turned a profit.

Avoid Debt

Sharp credits the strong balance sheet to being debt averse and steering clear of side businesses. Concepts pitched and rejected over the years included Four Seasons-branded nursing homes.

But the expansion in the mid 1980s to the hotel/residential model, which now accounts for about 80 percent of Four Seasons properties in the pipeline, was a natural fit, Sharp said. The idea, which first debuted in Boston, is to cater to customers interested in buying a home with Four Seasons branding and design, as well as access to hotel service and amenities.

The hotel chain now has some stand-alone residential properties, including one under construction in London, a market the company first entered in 1970 with a high-end hotel that became the “prototype of what we build to this day,” Sharp said.

Canada

The son of Polish Jewish immigrants, Sharp started adult life working for his father’s construction business after getting a degree in architecture. He chose to stay in Canada’s largest city in spite of blatant discrimination at the time.

“This golf course wouldn’t allow me to walk out there back then,” he said, gesturing to the Rosedale Club out his living-room window. Though Sharp doesn’t indulge in the sport, it’s in his blood: His father Max took up golf at about age 65 and shot a hole-in-one at 90, while his sister was club champion at her Toronto-area course.

Today, after decades of new immigrant arrivals, the now culturally diverse Toronto is a “great city because there are no minorities.”

Four Seasons Chief Executive Officer Allen Smith, who was hired four years ago to help the hotelier expand, says people are often surprised to learn the global company is based in Toronto.

“I occasionally meet people in Toronto who are surprised we are Toronto based,” said Smith, a dual U.S.-Canadian citizen who grew up in the U.S.

“There is a groundedness and real decency associated with Canadians in general in my experience. The principles that underlie the culture of the company, the Golden Rule, is very reflective of that,” Smith said in an interview at the Four Seasons in Toronto’s Yorkville district.

Apple Connection

Many aspects of today’s standard hotel service were started by Sharp. Four Seasons was first in providing shampoo and other toiletries, hairdryers and monogrammed bathrobes. It opened the first hotels in North America with a full-service spa and complimentary newspapers with room-service delivery. A focus on a comfortable mattress set off a hotel bed rivalry that continues today.

Steve Jobs, the Apple Inc. co-founder who died in 2011, took inspiration from Four Seasons when forming his company’s retail empire and approach to customer service, Carmine Gallo wrote in his book “The Apple Experience: Secrets to Building Insanely Great Customer Loyalty.”

“How much better of an endorsement can you get of what you are doing than one of the world’s greatest visionaries copying what you do,” said Sharp, who early on did things like change the pillows when he found out a politician stopped staying at the Toronto hotel because a rival had better ones.

These days, Sharp doesn’t go into the Toronto head office. His main focus now is spending time doing whatever his wife of 62 years wants to do. Still, it’s clear he puts a lot of thought into both the future of the company and industry.

New locations under consideration for Four Seasons include Rome, where Smith says the company is “conspicuously absent,” along with Venice and Nashville, Tennessee.

India Move

In China, Four Seasons has nine hotels and several under development. The company is also bullish on India, where the number of people moving from the farms into the city is said to be on the scale of all of Canada, according to Sharp.

Sharp isn’t worried about new arrivals such as Airbnb Inc., which he calls the “largest hotel company.” Marriott International Inc.’s Ritz-Carlton is “still the most formidable competitor because they are owned by one of the best hotel companies,” he said.

“Marriott builds as many hotels in one year as we operate,” Sharp said. “But we are the largest at this end of the market, therefore we have the competitive advantage.”

  ©2017 Bloomberg L.P.

This article was written by Kim Chipman from Bloomberg and was legally licensed through the NewsCred publisher network. Please direct all licensing questions to [email protected].

[petraself]

The Reason The Master Bath Makeover Has Taken So Long

Raise your hand if you remember when I took out the flooring in my master bath?

I know. It’s been a long time. I honestly had to look it up myself. And the sobering answer? 2013. I had just nearly finished the guest bath reno and through some enthusiastic encouragement from my dad, decided he and I should immediately start on the master. Because, after all, taking the shit that’s still fully functional out of my house is exactly what will make me get things done, right?

Well, it happened that I was also working on my kitchen and my dining room at the time. Oh, and my staircase, too. My house was one giant blob of chaos. But we did it anyway. I learned new, disgusting things about my house (I still want to make a “What the FRASS?” t-shirt at some point), and assumed that in less than a year’s time (at the most, knowing how I can drag things out!), my master bath would be put back together again.

As it turned out, the bath would be unfinished for much longer than that. I have been using the nearly-(but not really, either)-finished guest bathroom ever since. But why, exactly? Have I just been lazy? Do I hate showering? Or is it something else?

Well, I can assure you, lazy isn’t how I’d defend this DIY tale — I have been working on a lot. of. other. shit. since. then.

The short answer for why it’s not finished comes down to simple momentum: this bathroom just didn’t want to get made. It has been filled with good intentions and a lot of bad juju. Through one mishap or another, I’ve had false start after false start. And in the end, I had to learn to overcome obstacles in my own time.

There was the fact that I was already working on too many projects to begin with — a lot to get distracted with when I don’t really feel like doing tile work (and trust me, you need to be in the mood to do tile work).

There was when I thought a pipe burst and flooded the room. It turned out to be just a leaky valve, but I felt pretty defeated from the stress and I ignored the bathroom once more.

And finally, there was the tile floor install. In 2015, I decided enough was enough at one point and thought hiring some outside help would be a good way to jumpstart progress. Unfortunately, it wound up being one of the bigger setbacks. I was hesitant at first, but still really excited when I hired the job and when I left home to allow the work to be done without my hovering (Dad supervised in my absence). I was thrilled to come home and see tile instead of nothing on the floor. Finally!

But as I took a closer and closer look after it was done and prepped to start grouting, I realized that there had been a lot of miscommunication and the job was not up to my liking. Womp, womp.

I told the guy I didn’t care whether he used a 1/16″ grout line or 1/8″ grout line. He wound up using both rather than picking one, without really much distinction (it wasn’t like all horizontal lines with one thickness and vertical lines with another; some would taper, some would just be thin or thicker, etc.).

I told him not to worry too much about cleaning up the buckets and sponges and stuff after he was done (I was home right after he wrapped up the work, so I would have time to pick up all that stuff). But what I didn’t expect to find was extra globs of thinset all over the room (since this was rectified porcelain tile, we had to use a bag and mix it instead of just buying a bucket of mastic). It was on the tub, squished up between the tiles, etc.

Many of the tiles weren’t level with each other, which would also be a problem once grout went in. Tiles should pass what’s called a “quarter test”, which means you can run a quarter on the surface without it getting caught on the lip of another tile. As you can see, mine was up to 1/8″ difference in height between some of the corners. My guess is that there had been some stepping on the tiles after they went in, which would mash some of them down and squeeze the underlying thinset out between grout lines (in general, you want to avoid stepping on freshly laid tiles because your body weight will undo your leveling work!).

And finally, the tiles around the toilet flange were not cut to fit well, so part of the tile was resting on top instead of around the toilet opening. The tile itself was too hard to try to correct with a ceramic blade (there are some multi-tools that have certain blades that can cut through tile, but this was not that kind of tile). I was able to pry several pieces up successfully and cut new ones before things cured, but the second tile on the front side of the flange was already hardened. This wouldn’t be just an aesthetic problem like the grout lines; if I didn’t correct this, there was a strong chance that the toilet would not sit flat on the tile or I would eventually have leaks. And no one wants to sit on a rocking, leaking toilet!

Cleaning up all of that wasn’t really what I anticipated, and it wound up being a couple of extra hours that night of scraping half-cured thinset and inspecting everything to try to get it ready for grout. Even though I said you kind of have to really be in the mood to do tile work, tile isn’t really forgiving once it’s in, so if I hadn’t cleaned it up as soon as I found it, I would be in bigger trouble the longer I waited. Fully cured thinset is kind of like concrete when it hardens, and while it wasn’t that tough to get up on glazed areas like the tub, there was a much higher risk of chipping the tile trying to remove adhesive (the floor tile isn’t glazed). If I didn’t get it up between tiles, grout could also be an issue if it’s too thin (it has a greater chance for cracking later on).

After a couple of hours on my knees and hurriedly trying to clean up the thinset and cut new tiles, I was really upset; not just about the job, or the idea of paying for work that didn’t meet expectations, or having to remove tile and redo the work myself — it was the added layer of family dynamics that also made me feel really conflicted. I hired a family friend to do the work (not the one I’ve had help in the past… a different guy), and I took his word on how much experience he’d had at installing tile (I agreed after he’d done a different type of flooring job for my dad). My dad had only the best of intentions when he kept nudging me to just hire it out and arranged for someone to do it, and the family friend was also just a friendly guy looking for some work and wanted to help.

So, basically, I was stuck between a bad execution and knowing I’d have to confess this at some point and possibly make people unhappy by telling them (it would be inevitable that it would come up; my dad and I discuss progress with my house just about every time I see him, so he would ask more and more questions if I still kept pushing back the grout job after years of not getting this done already). My gut told me to wait and do the floor myself, and I’d ignored it because it seemed like moving ahead was the thing that everyone else wanted to do, and it made sense… and sheesh, I couldn’t argue that it hadn’t been damn long enough! The more I thought about it though, the more I realized that this was a lesson I needed to learn. I’m in my thirties, yet the dynamic with my parents hasn’t changed much; I have often listened to their advice over my own, even with a house they don’t live in. I’m sure that others can relate, but it’s still weird, right?

I don’t mean to say that they don’t have my best interest in mind, but I do think that learning to listen to your own inner voice is a huge thing that a lot of us stumble with — especially if it’s in conflict in some way with those we love and whose intentions are good. I’ve gained a lot of my own skills and developed my own instincts, and I need to learn to trust those more.

I took a few hours to make as many corrections as I could, and while it isn’t perfect and needed at least one more fix (the tile that is resting on the flange), I was a lot happier with the way it looked. Not perfect, but maybe okay enough to not have to rip it all out.

When it comes to DIY, eventually, your mojo just starts to wane after a few setbacks in a single room. This tile issue was kind of my last straw of trying to get it done sooner rather than later, so once again I put it off. Sure, it was ridiculous that I had an entire room and square footage I wasn’t using, but it’s only me that lives here, so if I wasn’t ready and had a working bathroom, I just plain stopped caring. I told myself it was fine to wait, and it’s ok to let yourself work on the other things you’re passionate about and wait for inspiration. To get my momentum back, I had to work on other things that made me feel like I was accomplishing something. Lots of somethings. So, I did.

And now, finally, I found that inspiration and the materials to get things done right — even after another setback yet again, but that’s for a different post. This time, I have a deadline and I’m setting that goal to meet it, head on, challenges and all. I’m even doing more upgrades than I thought when I first started. I can’t wait to show you the plans! More on my inspiration should be posted by next Friday, but demo posts begin first thing next week!

The post The Reason The Master Bath Makeover Has Taken So Long appeared first on The Ugly Duckling House.

Website // Subscribe // Advertise // Twitter // Facebook // Google+

The Reason The Master Bath Makeover Has Taken So Long published first on http://ift.tt/1kI9W8s

[endlessarchite]

The Reason The Master Bath Makeover Has Taken So Long

Raise your hand if you remember when I took out the flooring in my master bath?

I know. It’s been a long time. I honestly had to look it up myself. And the sobering answer? 2013. I had just nearly finished the guest bath reno and through some enthusiastic encouragement from my dad, decided he and I should immediately start on the master. Because, after all, taking the shit that’s still fully functional out of my house is exactly what will make me get things done, right?

Well, it happened that I was also working on my kitchen and my dining room at the time. Oh, and my staircase, too. My house was one giant blob of chaos. But we did it anyway. I learned new, disgusting things about my house (I still want to make a “What the FRASS?” t-shirt at some point), and assumed that in less than a year’s time (at the most, knowing how I can drag things out!), my master bath would be put back together again.

As it turned out, the bath would be unfinished for much longer than that. I have been using the nearly-(but not really, either)-finished guest bathroom ever since. But why, exactly? Have I just been lazy? Do I hate showering? Or is it something else?

Well, I can assure you, lazy isn’t how I’d defend this DIY tale — I have been working on a lot. of. other. shit. since. then.

The short answer for why it’s not finished comes down to simple momentum: this bathroom just didn’t want to get made. It has been filled with good intentions and a lot of bad juju. Through one mishap or another, I’ve had false start after false start. And in the end, I had to learn to overcome obstacles in my own time.

There was the fact that I was already working on too many projects to begin with — a lot to get distracted with when I don’t really feel like doing tile work (and trust me, you need to be in the mood to do tile work).

There was when I thought a pipe burst and flooded the room. It turned out to be just a leaky valve, but I felt pretty defeated from the stress and I ignored the bathroom once more.

And finally, there was the tile floor install. In 2015, I decided enough was enough at one point and thought hiring some outside help would be a good way to jumpstart progress. Unfortunately, it wound up being one of the bigger setbacks. I was hesitant at first, but still really excited when I hired the job and when I left home to allow the work to be done without my hovering (Dad supervised in my absence). I was thrilled to come home and see tile instead of nothing on the floor. Finally!

But as I took a closer and closer look after it was done and prepped to start grouting, I realized that there had been a lot of miscommunication and the job was not up to my liking. Womp, womp.

I told the guy I didn’t care whether he used a 1/16″ grout line or 1/8″ grout line. He wound up using both rather than picking one, without really much distinction (it wasn’t like all horizontal lines with one thickness and vertical lines with another; some would taper, some would just be thin or thicker, etc.).

I told him not to worry too much about cleaning up the buckets and sponges and stuff after he was done (I was home right after he wrapped up the work, so I would have time to pick up all that stuff). But what I didn’t expect to find was extra globs of thinset all over the room (since this was rectified porcelain tile, we had to use a bag and mix it instead of just buying a bucket of mastic). It was on the tub, squished up between the tiles, etc.

Many of the tiles weren’t level with each other, which would also be a problem once grout went in. Tiles should pass what’s called a “quarter test”, which means you can run a quarter on the surface without it getting caught on the lip of another tile. As you can see, mine was up to 1/8″ difference in height between some of the corners. My guess is that there had been some stepping on the tiles after they went in, which would mash some of them down and squeeze the underlying thinset out between grout lines (in general, you want to avoid stepping on freshly laid tiles because your body weight will undo your leveling work!).

And finally, the tiles around the toilet flange were not cut to fit well, so part of the tile was resting on top instead of around the toilet opening. The tile itself was too hard to try to correct with a ceramic blade (there are some multi-tools that have certain blades that can cut through tile, but this was not that kind of tile). I was able to pry several pieces up successfully and cut new ones before things cured, but the second tile on the front side of the flange was already hardened. This wouldn’t be just an aesthetic problem like the grout lines; if I didn’t correct this, there was a strong chance that the toilet would not sit flat on the tile or I would eventually have leaks. And no one wants to sit on a rocking, leaking toilet!

Cleaning up all of that wasn’t really what I anticipated, and it wound up being a couple of extra hours that night of scraping half-cured thinset and inspecting everything to try to get it ready for grout. Even though I said you kind of have to really be in the mood to do tile work, tile isn’t really forgiving once it’s in, so if I hadn’t cleaned it up as soon as I found it, I would be in bigger trouble the longer I waited. Fully cured thinset is kind of like concrete when it hardens, and while it wasn’t that tough to get up on glazed areas like the tub, there was a much higher risk of chipping the tile trying to remove adhesive (the floor tile isn’t glazed). If I didn’t get it up between tiles, grout could also be an issue if it’s too thin (it has a greater chance for cracking later on).

After a couple of hours on my knees and hurriedly trying to clean up the thinset and cut new tiles, I was really upset; not just about the job, or the idea of paying for work that didn’t meet expectations, or having to remove tile and redo the work myself — it was the added layer of family dynamics that also made me feel really conflicted. I hired a family friend to do the work (not the one I’ve had help in the past… a different guy), and I took his word on how much experience he’d had at installing tile (I agreed after he’d done a different type of flooring job for my dad). My dad had only the best of intentions when he kept nudging me to just hire it out and arranged for someone to do it, and the family friend was also just a friendly guy looking for some work and wanted to help.

So, basically, I was stuck between a bad execution and knowing I’d have to confess this at some point and possibly make people unhappy by telling them (it would be inevitable that it would come up; my dad and I discuss progress with my house just about every time I see him, so he would ask more and more questions if I still kept pushing back the grout job after years of not getting this done already). My gut told me to wait and do the floor myself, and I’d ignored it because it seemed like moving ahead was the thing that everyone else wanted to do, and it made sense… and sheesh, I couldn’t argue that it hadn’t been damn long enough! The more I thought about it though, the more I realized that this was a lesson I needed to learn. I’m in my thirties, yet the dynamic with my parents hasn’t changed much; I have often listened to their advice over my own, even with a house they don’t live in. I’m sure that others can relate, but it’s still weird, right?

I don’t mean to say that they don’t have my best interest in mind, but I do think that learning to listen to your own inner voice is a huge thing that a lot of us stumble with — especially if it’s in conflict in some way with those we love and whose intentions are good. I’ve gained a lot of my own skills and developed my own instincts, and I need to learn to trust those more.

I took a few hours to make as many corrections as I could, and while it isn’t perfect and needed at least one more fix (the tile that is resting on the flange), I was a lot happier with the way it looked. Not perfect, but maybe okay enough to not have to rip it all out.

When it comes to DIY, eventually, your mojo just starts to wane after a few setbacks in a single room. This tile issue was kind of my last straw of trying to get it done sooner rather than later, so once again I put it off. Sure, it was ridiculous that I had an entire room and square footage I wasn’t using, but it’s only me that lives here, so if I wasn’t ready and had a working bathroom, I just plain stopped caring. I told myself it was fine to wait, and it’s ok to let yourself work on the other things you’re passionate about and wait for inspiration. To get my momentum back, I had to work on other things that made me feel like I was accomplishing something. Lots of somethings. So, I did.

And now, finally, I found that inspiration and the materials to get things done right — even after another setback yet again, but that’s for a different post. This time, I have a deadline and I’m setting that goal to meet it, head on, challenges and all. I’m even doing more upgrades than I thought when I first started. I can’t wait to show you the plans! More on my inspiration should be posted by next Friday, but demo posts begin first thing next week!

The post The Reason The Master Bath Makeover Has Taken So Long appeared first on The Ugly Duckling House.

Website // Subscribe // Advertise // Twitter // Facebook // Google+

The Reason The Master Bath Makeover Has Taken So Long published first on http://ift.tt/2qxZz2j

[endlessarchite]

The Reason The Master Bath Makeover Has Taken So Long

Raise your hand if you remember when I took out the flooring in my master bath?

I know. It’s been a long time. I honestly had to look it up myself. And the sobering answer? 2013. I had just nearly finished the guest bath reno and through some enthusiastic encouragement from my dad, decided he and I should immediately start on the master. Because, after all, taking the shit that’s still fully functional out of my house is exactly what will make me get things done, right?

Well, it happened that I was also working on my kitchen and my dining room at the time. Oh, and my staircase, too. My house was one giant blob of chaos. But we did it anyway. I learned new, disgusting things about my house (I still want to make a “What the FRASS?” t-shirt at some point), and assumed that in less than a year’s time (at the most, knowing how I can drag things out!), my master bath would be put back together again.

As it turned out, the bath would be unfinished for much longer than that. I have been using the nearly-(but not really, either)-finished guest bathroom ever since. But why, exactly? Have I just been lazy? Do I hate showering? Or is it something else?

Well, I can assure you, lazy isn’t how I’d defend this DIY tale — I have been working on a lot. of. other. shit. since. then.

The short answer for why it’s not finished comes down to simple momentum: this bathroom just didn’t want to get made. It has been filled with good intentions and a lot of bad juju. Through one mishap or another, I’ve had false start after false start. And in the end, I had to learn to overcome obstacles in my own time.

There was the fact that I was already working on too many projects to begin with — a lot to get distracted with when I don’t really feel like doing tile work (and trust me, you need to be in the mood to do tile work).

There was when I thought a pipe burst and flooded the room. It turned out to be just a leaky valve, but I felt pretty defeated from the stress and I ignored the bathroom once more.

And finally, there was the tile floor install. In 2015, I decided enough was enough at one point and thought hiring some outside help would be a good way to jumpstart progress. Unfortunately, it wound up being one of the bigger setbacks. I was hesitant at first, but still really excited when I hired the job and when I left home to allow the work to be done without my hovering (Dad supervised in my absence). I was thrilled to come home and see tile instead of nothing on the floor. Finally!

But as I took a closer and closer look after it was done and prepped to start grouting, I realized that there had been a lot of miscommunication and the job was not up to my liking. Womp, womp.

I told the guy I didn’t care whether he used a 1/16″ grout line or 1/8″ grout line. He wound up using both rather than picking one, without really much distinction (it wasn’t like all horizontal lines with one thickness and vertical lines with another; some would taper, some would just be thin or thicker, etc.).

I told him not to worry too much about cleaning up the buckets and sponges and stuff after he was done (I was home right after he wrapped up the work, so I would have time to pick up all that stuff). But what I didn’t expect to find was extra globs of thinset all over the room (since this was rectified porcelain tile, we had to use a bag and mix it instead of just buying a bucket of mastic). It was on the tub, squished up between the tiles, etc.

Many of the tiles weren’t level with each other, which would also be a problem once grout went in. Tiles should pass what’s called a “quarter test”, which means you can run a quarter on the surface without it getting caught on the lip of another tile. As you can see, mine was up to 1/8″ difference in height between some of the corners. My guess is that there had been some stepping on the tiles after they went in, which would mash some of them down and squeeze the underlying thinset out between grout lines (in general, you want to avoid stepping on freshly laid tiles because your body weight will undo your leveling work!).

And finally, the tiles around the toilet flange were not cut to fit well, so part of the tile was resting on top instead of around the toilet opening. The tile itself was too hard to try to correct with a ceramic blade (there are some multi-tools that have certain blades that can cut through tile, but this was not that kind of tile). I was able to pry several pieces up successfully and cut new ones before things cured, but the second tile on the front side of the flange was already hardened. This wouldn’t be just an aesthetic problem like the grout lines; if I didn’t correct this, there was a strong chance that the toilet would not sit flat on the tile or I would eventually have leaks. And no one wants to sit on a rocking, leaking toilet!

Cleaning up all of that wasn’t really what I anticipated, and it wound up being a couple of extra hours that night of scraping half-cured thinset and inspecting everything to try to get it ready for grout. Even though I said you kind of have to really be in the mood to do tile work, tile isn’t really forgiving once it’s in, so if I hadn’t cleaned it up as soon as I found it, I would be in bigger trouble the longer I waited. Fully cured thinset is kind of like concrete when it hardens, and while it wasn’t that tough to get up on glazed areas like the tub, there was a much higher risk of chipping the tile trying to remove adhesive (the floor tile isn’t glazed). If I didn’t get it up between tiles, grout could also be an issue if it’s too thin (it has a greater chance for cracking later on).

After a couple of hours on my knees and hurriedly trying to clean up the thinset and cut new tiles, I was really upset; not just about the job, or the idea of paying for work that didn’t meet expectations, or having to remove tile and redo the work myself — it was the added layer of family dynamics that also made me feel really conflicted. I hired a family friend to do the work (not the one I’ve had help in the past… a different guy), and I took his word on how much experience he’d had at installing tile (I agreed after he’d done a different type of flooring job for my dad). My dad had only the best of intentions when he kept nudging me to just hire it out and arranged for someone to do it, and the family friend was also just a friendly guy looking for some work and wanted to help.

So, basically, I was stuck between a bad execution and knowing I’d have to confess this at some point and possibly make people unhappy by telling them (it would be inevitable that it would come up; my dad and I discuss progress with my house just about every time I see him, so he would ask more and more questions if I still kept pushing back the grout job after years of not getting this done already). My gut told me to wait and do the floor myself, and I’d ignored it because it seemed like moving ahead was the thing that everyone else wanted to do, and it made sense… and sheesh, I couldn’t argue that it hadn’t been damn long enough! The more I thought about it though, the more I realized that this was a lesson I needed to learn. I’m in my thirties, yet the dynamic with my parents hasn’t changed much; I have often listened to their advice over my own, even with a house they don’t live in. I’m sure that others can relate, but it’s still weird, right?

I don’t mean to say that they don’t have my best interest in mind, but I do think that learning to listen to your own inner voice is a huge thing that a lot of us stumble with — especially if it’s in conflict in some way with those we love and whose intentions are good. I’ve gained a lot of my own skills and developed my own instincts, and I need to learn to trust those more.

I took a few hours to make as many corrections as I could, and while it isn’t perfect and needed at least one more fix (the tile that is resting on the flange), I was a lot happier with the way it looked. Not perfect, but maybe okay enough to not have to rip it all out.

When it comes to DIY, eventually, your mojo just starts to wane after a few setbacks in a single room. This tile issue was kind of my last straw of trying to get it done sooner rather than later, so once again I put it off. Sure, it was ridiculous that I had an entire room and square footage I wasn’t using, but it’s only me that lives here, so if I wasn’t ready and had a working bathroom, I just plain stopped caring. I told myself it was fine to wait, and it’s ok to let yourself work on the other things you’re passionate about and wait for inspiration. To get my momentum back, I had to work on other things that made me feel like I was accomplishing something. Lots of somethings. So, I did.

And now, finally, I found that inspiration and the materials to get things done right — even after another setback yet again, but that’s for a different post. This time, I have a deadline and I’m setting that goal to meet it, head on, challenges and all. I’m even doing more upgrades than I thought when I first started. I can’t wait to show you the plans! More on my inspiration should be posted by next Friday, but demo posts begin first thing next week!

The post The Reason The Master Bath Makeover Has Taken So Long appeared first on The Ugly Duckling House.

Website // Subscribe // Advertise // Twitter // Facebook // Google+

The Reason The Master Bath Makeover Has Taken So Long published first on http://ift.tt/2qxZz2j

[endlessarchite]

The Reason The Master Bath Makeover Has Taken So Long

Raise your hand if you remember when I took out the flooring in my master bath?

I know. It’s been a long time. I honestly had to look it up myself. And the sobering answer? 2013. I had just nearly finished the guest bath reno and through some enthusiastic encouragement from my dad, decided he and I should immediately start on the master. Because, after all, taking the shit that’s still fully functional out of my house is exactly what will make me get things done, right?

Well, it happened that I was also working on my kitchen and my dining room at the time. Oh, and my staircase, too. My house was one giant blob of chaos. But we did it anyway. I learned new, disgusting things about my house (I still want to make a “What the FRASS?” t-shirt at some point), and assumed that in less than a year’s time (at the most, knowing how I can drag things out!), my master bath would be put back together again.

As it turned out, the bath would be unfinished for much longer than that. I have been using the nearly-(but not really, either)-finished guest bathroom ever since. But why, exactly? Have I just been lazy? Do I hate showering? Or is it something else?

Well, I can assure you, lazy isn’t how I’d defend this DIY tale — I have been working on a lot. of. other. shit. since. then.

The short answer for why it’s not finished comes down to simple momentum: this bathroom just didn’t want to get made. It has been filled with good intentions and a lot of bad juju. Through one mishap or another, I’ve had false start after false start. And in the end, I had to learn to overcome obstacles in my own time.

There was the fact that I was already working on too many projects to begin with — a lot to get distracted with when I don’t really feel like doing tile work (and trust me, you need to be in the mood to do tile work).

There was when I thought a pipe burst and flooded the room. It turned out to be just a leaky valve, but I felt pretty defeated from the stress and I ignored the bathroom once more.

And finally, there was the tile floor install. In 2015, I decided enough was enough at one point and thought hiring some outside help would be a good way to jumpstart progress. Unfortunately, it wound up being one of the bigger setbacks. I was hesitant at first, but still really excited when I hired the job and when I left home to allow the work to be done without my hovering (Dad supervised in my absence). I was thrilled to come home and see tile instead of nothing on the floor. Finally!

But as I took a closer and closer look after it was done and prepped to start grouting, I realized that there had been a lot of miscommunication and the job was not up to my liking. Womp, womp.

I told the guy I didn’t care whether he used a 1/16″ grout line or 1/8″ grout line. He wound up using both rather than picking one, without really much distinction (it wasn’t like all horizontal lines with one thickness and vertical lines with another; some would taper, some would just be thin or thicker, etc.).

I told him not to worry too much about cleaning up the buckets and sponges and stuff after he was done (I was home right after he wrapped up the work, so I would have time to pick up all that stuff). But what I didn’t expect to find was extra globs of thinset all over the room (since this was rectified porcelain tile, we had to use a bag and mix it instead of just buying a bucket of mastic). It was on the tub, squished up between the tiles, etc.

Many of the tiles weren’t level with each other, which would also be a problem once grout went in. Tiles should pass what’s called a “quarter test”, which means you can run a quarter on the surface without it getting caught on the lip of another tile. As you can see, mine was up to 1/8″ difference in height between some of the corners. My guess is that there had been some stepping on the tiles after they went in, which would mash some of them down and squeeze the underlying thinset out between grout lines (in general, you want to avoid stepping on freshly laid tiles because your body weight will undo your leveling work!).

And finally, the tiles around the toilet flange were not cut to fit well, so part of the tile was resting on top instead of around the toilet opening. The tile itself was too hard to try to correct with a ceramic blade (there are some multi-tools that have certain blades that can cut through tile, but this was not that kind of tile). I was able to pry several pieces up successfully and cut new ones before things cured, but the second tile on the front side of the flange was already hardened. This wouldn’t be just an aesthetic problem like the grout lines; if I didn’t correct this, there was a strong chance that the toilet would not sit flat on the tile or I would eventually have leaks. And no one wants to sit on a rocking, leaking toilet!

Cleaning up all of that wasn’t really what I anticipated, and it wound up being a couple of extra hours that night of scraping half-cured thinset and inspecting everything to try to get it ready for grout. Even though I said you kind of have to really be in the mood to do tile work, tile isn’t really forgiving once it’s in, so if I hadn’t cleaned it up as soon as I found it, I would be in bigger trouble the longer I waited. Fully cured thinset is kind of like concrete when it hardens, and while it wasn’t that tough to get up on glazed areas like the tub, there was a much higher risk of chipping the tile trying to remove adhesive (the floor tile isn’t glazed). If I didn’t get it up between tiles, grout could also be an issue if it’s too thin (it has a greater chance for cracking later on).

After a couple of hours on my knees and hurriedly trying to clean up the thinset and cut new tiles, I was really upset; not just about the job, or the idea of paying for work that didn’t meet expectations, or having to remove tile and redo the work myself — it was the added layer of family dynamics that also made me feel really conflicted. I hired a family friend to do the work (not the one I’ve had help in the past… a different guy), and I took his word on how much experience he’d had at installing tile (I agreed after he’d done a different type of flooring job for my dad). My dad had only the best of intentions when he kept nudging me to just hire it out and arranged for someone to do it, and the family friend was also just a friendly guy looking for some work and wanted to help.

So, basically, I was stuck between a bad execution and knowing I’d have to confess this at some point and possibly make people unhappy by telling them (it would be inevitable that it would come up; my dad and I discuss progress with my house just about every time I see him, so he would ask more and more questions if I still kept pushing back the grout job after years of not getting this done already). My gut told me to wait and do the floor myself, and I’d ignored it because it seemed like moving ahead was the thing that everyone else wanted to do, and it made sense… and sheesh, I couldn’t argue that it hadn’t been damn long enough! The more I thought about it though, the more I realized that this was a lesson I needed to learn. I’m in my thirties, yet the dynamic with my parents hasn’t changed much; I have often listened to their advice over my own, even with a house they don’t live in. I’m sure that others can relate, but it’s still weird, right?

I don’t mean to say that they don’t have my best interest in mind, but I do think that learning to listen to your own inner voice is a huge thing that a lot of us stumble with — especially if it’s in conflict in some way with those we love and whose intentions are good. I’ve gained a lot of my own skills and developed my own instincts, and I need to learn to trust those more.

I took a few hours to make as many corrections as I could, and while it isn’t perfect and needed at least one more fix (the tile that is resting on the flange), I was a lot happier with the way it looked. Not perfect, but maybe okay enough to not have to rip it all out.

When it comes to DIY, eventually, your mojo just starts to wane after a few setbacks in a single room. This tile issue was kind of my last straw of trying to get it done sooner rather than later, so once again I put it off. Sure, it was ridiculous that I had an entire room and square footage I wasn’t using, but it’s only me that lives here, so if I wasn’t ready and had a working bathroom, I just plain stopped caring. I told myself it was fine to wait, and it’s ok to let yourself work on the other things you’re passionate about and wait for inspiration. To get my momentum back, I had to work on other things that made me feel like I was accomplishing something. Lots of somethings. So, I did.

And now, finally, I found that inspiration and the materials to get things done right — even after another setback yet again, but that’s for a different post. This time, I have a deadline and I’m setting that goal to meet it, head on, challenges and all. I’m even doing more upgrades than I thought when I first started. I can’t wait to show you the plans! More on my inspiration should be posted by next Friday, but demo posts begin first thing next week!

The post The Reason The Master Bath Makeover Has Taken So Long appeared first on The Ugly Duckling House.

Website // Subscribe // Advertise // Twitter // Facebook // Google+

The Reason The Master Bath Makeover Has Taken So Long published first on http://ift.tt/2qxZz2j

[endlessarchite]

The Reason The Master Bath Makeover Has Taken So Long

Raise your hand if you remember when I took out the flooring in my master bath?

I know. It’s been a long time. I honestly had to look it up myself. And the sobering answer? 2013. I had just nearly finished the guest bath reno and through some enthusiastic encouragement from my dad, decided he and I should immediately start on the master. Because, after all, taking the shit that’s still fully functional out of my house is exactly what will make me get things done, right?

Well, it happened that I was also working on my kitchen and my dining room at the time. Oh, and my staircase, too. My house was one giant blob of chaos. But we did it anyway. I learned new, disgusting things about my house (I still want to make a “What the FRASS?” t-shirt at some point), and assumed that in less than a year’s time (at the most, knowing how I can drag things out!), my master bath would be put back together again.

As it turned out, the bath would be unfinished for much longer than that. I have been using the nearly-(but not really, either)-finished guest bathroom ever since. But why, exactly? Have I just been lazy? Do I hate showering? Or is it something else?

Well, I can assure you, lazy isn’t how I’d defend this DIY tale — I have been working on a lot. of. other. shit. since. then.

The short answer for why it’s not finished comes down to simple momentum: this bathroom just didn’t want to get made. It has been filled with good intentions and a lot of bad juju. Through one mishap or another, I’ve had false start after false start. And in the end, I had to learn to overcome obstacles in my own time.

There was the fact that I was already working on too many projects to begin with — a lot to get distracted with when I don’t really feel like doing tile work (and trust me, you need to be in the mood to do tile work).

There was when I thought a pipe burst and flooded the room. It turned out to be just a leaky valve, but I felt pretty defeated from the stress and I ignored the bathroom once more.

And finally, there was the tile floor install. In 2015, I decided enough was enough at one point and thought hiring some outside help would be a good way to jumpstart progress. Unfortunately, it wound up being one of the bigger setbacks. I was hesitant at first, but still really excited when I hired the job and when I left home to allow the work to be done without my hovering (Dad supervised in my absence). I was thrilled to come home and see tile instead of nothing on the floor. Finally!

But as I took a closer and closer look after it was done and prepped to start grouting, I realized that there had been a lot of miscommunication and the job was not up to my liking. Womp, womp.

I told the guy I didn’t care whether he used a 1/16″ grout line or 1/8″ grout line. He wound up using both rather than picking one, without really much distinction (it wasn’t like all horizontal lines with one thickness and vertical lines with another; some would taper, some would just be thin or thicker, etc.).

I told him not to worry too much about cleaning up the buckets and sponges and stuff after he was done (I was home right after he wrapped up the work, so I would have time to pick up all that stuff). But what I didn’t expect to find was extra globs of thinset all over the room (since this was rectified porcelain tile, we had to use a bag and mix it instead of just buying a bucket of mastic). It was on the tub, squished up between the tiles, etc.

Many of the tiles weren’t level with each other, which would also be a problem once grout went in. Tiles should pass what’s called a “quarter test”, which means you can run a quarter on the surface without it getting caught on the lip of another tile. As you can see, mine was up to 1/8″ difference in height between some of the corners. My guess is that there had been some stepping on the tiles after they went in, which would mash some of them down and squeeze the underlying thinset out between grout lines (in general, you want to avoid stepping on freshly laid tiles because your body weight will undo your leveling work!).

And finally, the tiles around the toilet flange were not cut to fit well, so part of the tile was resting on top instead of around the toilet opening. The tile itself was too hard to try to correct with a ceramic blade (there are some multi-tools that have certain blades that can cut through tile, but this was not that kind of tile). I was able to pry several pieces up successfully and cut new ones before things cured, but the second tile on the front side of the flange was already hardened. This wouldn’t be just an aesthetic problem like the grout lines; if I didn’t correct this, there was a strong chance that the toilet would not sit flat on the tile or I would eventually have leaks. And no one wants to sit on a rocking, leaking toilet!

Cleaning up all of that wasn’t really what I anticipated, and it wound up being a couple of extra hours that night of scraping half-cured thinset and inspecting everything to try to get it ready for grout. Even though I said you kind of have to really be in the mood to do tile work, tile isn’t really forgiving once it’s in, so if I hadn’t cleaned it up as soon as I found it, I would be in bigger trouble the longer I waited. Fully cured thinset is kind of like concrete when it hardens, and while it wasn’t that tough to get up on glazed areas like the tub, there was a much higher risk of chipping the tile trying to remove adhesive (the floor tile isn’t glazed). If I didn’t get it up between tiles, grout could also be an issue if it’s too thin (it has a greater chance for cracking later on).

After a couple of hours on my knees and hurriedly trying to clean up the thinset and cut new tiles, I was really upset; not just about the job, or the idea of paying for work that didn’t meet expectations, or having to remove tile and redo the work myself — it was the added layer of family dynamics that also made me feel really conflicted. I hired a family friend to do the work (not the one I’ve had help in the past… a different guy), and I took his word on how much experience he’d had at installing tile (I agreed after he’d done a different type of flooring job for my dad). My dad had only the best of intentions when he kept nudging me to just hire it out and arranged for someone to do it, and the family friend was also just a friendly guy looking for some work and wanted to help.

So, basically, I was stuck between a bad execution and knowing I’d have to confess this at some point and possibly make people unhappy by telling them (it would be inevitable that it would come up; my dad and I discuss progress with my house just about every time I see him, so he would ask more and more questions if I still kept pushing back the grout job after years of not getting this done already). My gut told me to wait and do the floor myself, and I’d ignored it because it seemed like moving ahead was the thing that everyone else wanted to do, and it made sense… and sheesh, I couldn’t argue that it hadn’t been damn long enough! The more I thought about it though, the more I realized that this was a lesson I needed to learn. I’m in my thirties, yet the dynamic with my parents hasn’t changed much; I have often listened to their advice over my own, even with a house they don’t live in. I’m sure that others can relate, but it’s still weird, right?

I don’t mean to say that they don’t have my best interest in mind, but I do think that learning to listen to your own inner voice is a huge thing that a lot of us stumble with — especially if it’s in conflict in some way with those we love and whose intentions are good. I’ve gained a lot of my own skills and developed my own instincts, and I need to learn to trust those more.

I took a few hours to make as many corrections as I could, and while it isn’t perfect and needed at least one more fix (the tile that is resting on the flange), I was a lot happier with the way it looked. Not perfect, but maybe okay enough to not have to rip it all out.

When it comes to DIY, eventually, your mojo just starts to wane after a few setbacks in a single room. This tile issue was kind of my last straw of trying to get it done sooner rather than later, so once again I put it off. Sure, it was ridiculous that I had an entire room and square footage I wasn’t using, but it’s only me that lives here, so if I wasn’t ready and had a working bathroom, I just plain stopped caring. I told myself it was fine to wait, and it’s ok to let yourself work on the other things you’re passionate about and wait for inspiration. To get my momentum back, I had to work on other things that made me feel like I was accomplishing something. Lots of somethings. So, I did.

And now, finally, I found that inspiration and the materials to get things done right — even after another setback yet again, but that’s for a different post. This time, I have a deadline and I’m setting that goal to meet it, head on, challenges and all. I’m even doing more upgrades than I thought when I first started. I can’t wait to show you the plans! More on my inspiration should be posted by next Friday, but demo posts begin first thing next week!

The post The Reason The Master Bath Makeover Has Taken So Long appeared first on The Ugly Duckling House.

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The Reason The Master Bath Makeover Has Taken So Long published first on http://ift.tt/2qxZz2j

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The Reason The Master Bath Makeover Has Taken So Long

Raise your hand if you remember when I took out the flooring in my master bath?

I know. It’s been a long time. I honestly had to look it up myself. And the sobering answer? 2013. I had just nearly finished the guest bath reno and through some enthusiastic encouragement from my dad, decided he and I should immediately start on the master. Because, after all, taking the shit that’s still fully functional out of my house is exactly what will make me get things done, right?

Well, it happened that I was also working on my kitchen and my dining room at the time. Oh, and my staircase, too. My house was one giant blob of chaos. But we did it anyway. I learned new, disgusting things about my house (I still want to make a “What the FRASS?” t-shirt at some point), and assumed that in less than a year’s time (at the most, knowing how I can drag things out!), my master bath would be put back together again.

As it turned out, the bath would be unfinished for much longer than that. I have been using the nearly-(but not really, either)-finished guest bathroom ever since. But why, exactly? Have I just been lazy? Do I hate showering? Or is it something else?

Well, I can assure you, lazy isn’t how I’d defend this DIY tale — I have been working on a lot. of. other. shit. since. then.

The short answer for why it’s not finished comes down to simple momentum: this bathroom just didn’t want to get made. It has been filled with good intentions and a lot of bad juju. Through one mishap or another, I’ve had false start after false start. And in the end, I had to learn to overcome obstacles in my own time.

There was the fact that I was already working on too many projects to begin with — a lot to get distracted with when I don’t really feel like doing tile work (and trust me, you need to be in the mood to do tile work).

There was when I thought a pipe burst and flooded the room. It turned out to be just a leaky valve, but I felt pretty defeated from the stress and I ignored the bathroom once more.

And finally, there was the tile floor install. In 2015, I decided enough was enough at one point and thought hiring some outside help would be a good way to jumpstart progress. Unfortunately, it wound up being one of the bigger setbacks. I was hesitant at first, but still really excited when I hired the job and when I left home to allow the work to be done without my hovering (Dad supervised in my absence). I was thrilled to come home and see tile instead of nothing on the floor. Finally!

But as I took a closer and closer look after it was done and prepped to start grouting, I realized that there had been a lot of miscommunication and the job was not up to my liking. Womp, womp.

I told the guy I didn’t care whether he used a 1/16″ grout line or 1/8″ grout line. He wound up using both rather than picking one, without really much distinction (it wasn’t like all horizontal lines with one thickness and vertical lines with another; some would taper, some would just be thin or thicker, etc.).

I told him not to worry too much about cleaning up the buckets and sponges and stuff after he was done (I was home right after he wrapped up the work, so I would have time to pick up all that stuff). But what I didn’t expect to find was extra globs of thinset all over the room (since this was rectified porcelain tile, we had to use a bag and mix it instead of just buying a bucket of mastic). It was on the tub, squished up between the tiles, etc.

Many of the tiles weren’t level with each other, which would also be a problem once grout went in. Tiles should pass what’s called a “quarter test”, which means you can run a quarter on the surface without it getting caught on the lip of another tile. As you can see, mine was up to 1/8″ difference in height between some of the corners. My guess is that there had been some stepping on the tiles after they went in, which would mash some of them down and squeeze the underlying thinset out between grout lines (in general, you want to avoid stepping on freshly laid tiles because your body weight will undo your leveling work!).

And finally, the tiles around the toilet flange were not cut to fit well, so part of the tile was resting on top instead of around the toilet opening. The tile itself was too hard to try to correct with a ceramic blade (there are some multi-tools that have certain blades that can cut through tile, but this was not that kind of tile). I was able to pry several pieces up successfully and cut new ones before things cured, but the second tile on the front side of the flange was already hardened. This wouldn’t be just an aesthetic problem like the grout lines; if I didn’t correct this, there was a strong chance that the toilet would not sit flat on the tile or I would eventually have leaks. And no one wants to sit on a rocking, leaking toilet!

Cleaning up all of that wasn’t really what I anticipated, and it wound up being a couple of extra hours that night of scraping half-cured thinset and inspecting everything to try to get it ready for grout. Even though I said you kind of have to really be in the mood to do tile work, tile isn’t really forgiving once it’s in, so if I hadn’t cleaned it up as soon as I found it, I would be in bigger trouble the longer I waited. Fully cured thinset is kind of like concrete when it hardens, and while it wasn’t that tough to get up on glazed areas like the tub, there was a much higher risk of chipping the tile trying to remove adhesive (the floor tile isn’t glazed). If I didn’t get it up between tiles, grout could also be an issue if it’s too thin (it has a greater chance for cracking later on).

After a couple of hours on my knees and hurriedly trying to clean up the thinset and cut new tiles, I was really upset; not just about the job, or the idea of paying for work that didn’t meet expectations, or having to remove tile and redo the work myself — it was the added layer of family dynamics that also made me feel really conflicted. I hired a family friend to do the work (not the one I’ve had help in the past… a different guy), and I took his word on how much experience he’d had at installing tile (I agreed after he’d done a different type of flooring job for my dad). My dad had only the best of intentions when he kept nudging me to just hire it out and arranged for someone to do it, and the family friend was also just a friendly guy looking for some work and wanted to help.

So, basically, I was stuck between a bad execution and knowing I’d have to confess this at some point and possibly make people unhappy by telling them (it would be inevitable that it would come up; my dad and I discuss progress with my house just about every time I see him, so he would ask more and more questions if I still kept pushing back the grout job after years of not getting this done already). My gut told me to wait and do the floor myself, and I’d ignored it because it seemed like moving ahead was the thing that everyone else wanted to do, and it made sense… and sheesh, I couldn’t argue that it hadn’t been damn long enough! The more I thought about it though, the more I realized that this was a lesson I needed to learn. I’m in my thirties, yet the dynamic with my parents hasn’t changed much; I have often listened to their advice over my own, even with a house they don’t live in. I’m sure that others can relate, but it’s still weird, right?

I don’t mean to say that they don’t have my best interest in mind, but I do think that learning to listen to your own inner voice is a huge thing that a lot of us stumble with — especially if it’s in conflict in some way with those we love and whose intentions are good. I’ve gained a lot of my own skills and developed my own instincts, and I need to learn to trust those more.

I took a few hours to make as many corrections as I could, and while it isn’t perfect and needed at least one more fix (the tile that is resting on the flange), I was a lot happier with the way it looked. Not perfect, but maybe okay enough to not have to rip it all out.

When it comes to DIY, eventually, your mojo just starts to wane after a few setbacks in a single room. This tile issue was kind of my last straw of trying to get it done sooner rather than later, so once again I put it off. Sure, it was ridiculous that I had an entire room and square footage I wasn’t using, but it’s only me that lives here, so if I wasn’t ready and had a working bathroom, I just plain stopped caring. I told myself it was fine to wait, and it’s ok to let yourself work on the other things you’re passionate about and wait for inspiration. To get my momentum back, I had to work on other things that made me feel like I was accomplishing something. Lots of somethings. So, I did.

And now, finally, I found that inspiration and the materials to get things done right — even after another setback yet again, but that’s for a different post. This time, I have a deadline and I’m setting that goal to meet it, head on, challenges and all. I’m even doing more upgrades than I thought when I first started. I can’t wait to show you the plans! More on my inspiration should be posted by next Friday, but demo posts begin first thing next week!

The post The Reason The Master Bath Makeover Has Taken So Long appeared first on The Ugly Duckling House.

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The Reason The Master Bath Makeover Has Taken So Long published first on http://ift.tt/2qxZz2j