#cost of carpet repair

[carpetrepair01]

Carpet Patch Repair | Carpet Repairs Melbourne

Carpet Patch Repair is a service that can be used to fix small holes, tears, or burns in your carpet. The process involves cutting a piece of carpet that matches the colour and pattern of your existing carpet, and then glueing it over the damaged area. The patch is then trimmed to match the surrounding carpet, and a carpet roller is used to blend the patch in.

Carpet patch repair is a quick and affordable way to fix small damage to your carpet. It is also a good option if you do not want to replace your entire carpet.

Benefits of Carpet Patch Repair

Quick and affordable: Carpet patch repair is a quick and affordable way to fix small damage to your carpet.

Easy to do: Carpet patch repair is a relatively easy process that can be done by a professional or a DIYer.

Long-lasting: A properly installed carpet patch can last for many years.

How to Choose a Carpet Patch Repair Service

If you are considering having your carpet patched, there are a few things you should keep in mind:

Choose a reputable company: There are many companies that offer carpet patch repair services. Do some research to find a company that has a good reputation and that uses high-quality materials.

Get multiple estimates: It is always a good idea to get multiple estimates before hiring a carpet patch repair company. This will help you ensure that you are getting the best possible price.

Ask about the company's warranty: Most carpet patch repair companies offer a warranty on their work. Be sure to ask about the terms of the warranty before you hire a company.

Carpet Patch Repair Cost

The cost of carpet patch repair will vary depending on the size and severity of the damage, as well as the type of carpet. In general, carpet patch repair is a relatively affordable option.

How to Care for a Newly Patched Carpet

Once your carpet has been patched, it is important to care for it properly. Here are a few tips:

Vacuum regularly: Vacuuming will help to remove dirt and debris from the carpet and keep the patch looking its best.

Avoid using harsh chemicals: Harsh chemicals, such as bleach, can damage the carpet patch.

Have your carpet professionally cleaned regularly: Professional carpet cleaning will help to remove dirt, dust, and allergens from the carpet and keep the patch looking its best.

By following these tips, you can help to ensure that your newly patched carpet will last for many years.

[xythlia]

honestly the biggest pain in the ass of owning a house is the repairs/maintenance

[mastercarpetrepair]

The Cost of Carpet Repairs: A Guide to Understanding the Expense

A Simple Guide to Understanding the Costs of Carpet Repairs:

This guide breaks down the involved costs in carpet repairs, making it easier for homeowners to budget for fixes. Whether it's dealing with wear and tear, stains, or more severe damage, the guide provides clear explanations of the potential expenses. From small patch jobs to larger restorative works, it covers various scenarios and offers tips on minimizing costs while ensuring quality repairs. Perfect for those planning to refresh their space or maintain their carpet's longevity.

[floorsforless1]

Floors For Less is your go-to destination for premium flooring solutions in Madison. As the Best Flooring Company in Madison, we offer a diverse range of options to fit your needs. Our team of professionals is dedicated to helping you find the perfect flooring for your home or business.

[proflooring]

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Many companies offer the best installation and maintenance solutions; however, we stand best as we provide out-of-the-box service. We believe in offering only exceptional solutions to all our clients. If you want our professional assistance for carpet repair services Toronto, why look here and there? Choose our company and get exemplary solutions.

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[perfecthomepros]

[gallusrostromegalus]

Basically. I got screwed.

I am very sorry for how relatively quiet this blog has been but I've been dealing with a very unpleasant situation the last few months, and now I need help.

Essentially, I tried to help someone out, and she took advantage of me, and I have no way to recoup my losses.

Earlier this year, I moved into a new house. Before we sold the old house, a Now-Former friend ran into some trouble and was about to become homeless with pets and a small child. Not wanting them to be on the street, we offered to hold off selling the old house so she could stay there for a little while, if she could pay the cost of the mortgage on that house (because I could afford one mortgage but not two) while we helped her find somewhere more permanent.

I was not making money from this- since I was still paying the utilities and property taxes, I was actually losing money, but willing to soak that in order to help her save up and get her on her feet.

Instead, she:

Never Paid a Dime towards covering the mortgage costs like she agreed ($12,000 for the nine months she was there)

Trashed the house ($500 dump fees for the trash alone)

Let her pets piss and shit all over the house ($1,500 bio hazard cleanup, $4000 to replace the carpet and other damaged flooring)

Caused an electrical issue in the garage ($900 to repair)

Broke the washer, dryer and refrigerator ($2500 to replace)

Broke the fence ($1000 to repair)

When I told her I could no longer financially support her and that I needed to sell the old house, she illegally squatted there for a solid three months and I had to hire a lawyer and actually take her to court to get her to leave ($2,500)

The resulting stress has been, as you can imagine, stressful.

So stressful, in fact, that it aggravated a the medical conditions my husband had and made him extremely sick. He had to go to the hospital and take time off work to recover. Now the health insurance is trying to weasel out of paying his short-term disability claim.

So net, this woman has managed to cost me around $25,000 and that's not taking into account the missed paychecks and medical expenses. I do not have $25,000, and until at least $13,000 of that is spent to repair the damage she did, I legally cannot sell the house to even begin to recoup my losses.

Theoretically, I could sue this woman, but she doesn't have any money and it would be me paying even more money I don't have to get... Nothing. So I'm asking for help to cover the costs of getting the old house ready to sell, my husband's medical expenses, and other expenses incurred by this debacle:

If you can help out in any way-share, donate spare change, anything- I'd be extremely grateful.

Thank you.

[cleenxrestoration]

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[kirain]

I made a seven-day poll asking what everyone wanted me to write for a BG3 short story, but I don't think I have to wait to know "Gale summoning Tara" will win by a landslide. That said, I promise to also write a short for whichever theme comes in second, if people are still interested. In the meantime, I give you Gale summoning Tara!

Partly inspired by @ah-jiing's gorgeous art.

The boy clung to his mother's skirt, hiding behind her, his cheeks stained with tears. Elminster looked at him, then at the state of the house. An unconscious mephit lay withered in the corner, surrounded by scorch marks. The carpet; what was left of it, had taken the brunt of the damage, but the entire living room was trashed beyond repair—and it was perfect. The boy had potential if he could summon such a creature on his own, and with no formal training besides.

"Impressive," Elminster chuckled, scratching his beard. "Most university students struggle to summon mephits. It's not easy to pull them out of Eberron, especially if they don't want to leave."

"Impressive?!" the father yelled, causing the boy to flinch. "This is the fourth time his 'magic' has caused irreparable damage! No more!" He turned to his son, his eyes burning. "I never should've let your mother buy you those fanciful books. Later today, when I get home from work, I'm gathering every single one and tossing them in the ocean!"

The boy gasped, horrified. "No!"

"Don't you 'no' me." He raised his hand, threateningly. "I'm done paying for your mistakes. Every time you ruin something in this house, it costs me a bloody fortune! I ought to—!"

"That's enough, Alexis," the mother said, sternly. "I did far worse when I was in my teens. He's barely eight summers old. He just needs a mentor."

"No, Morena. He needs to stop. He needs a hobby. He needs friends!"

"That's what I was trying to do!" the boy cried. Elminster shifted as the parents fell silent. "I was trying ... I was trying to summon a tressym!"

"Not this again." The father sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose in annoyance, as well as exhaustion. "I already told you, no pets! This house is already in shambles. We don't need an animal to add to it."

"Alexis, you're being unfair. You expect him to stay inside all day, learning about your trade, and then wonder why he doesn't have any friends."

"He doesn't have any friends because the other children around here are scared of him. Have you forgotten what he did to that girl?!"

The boy whimpered, the memory invading his thoughts. Once again, the parents fell silent, the mother giving her husband a disapproving glare. After a moment, she knelt down with a warm smile and ran her thumb across her son's cheek.

"Gale, sweetheart, go to your room for a bit. Can you do that for me?"

The boy hesitated, holding his mother's hand against his face, grateful for the comfort. His eyes twitched, then welled with tears. Elminster watched patiently, taking note of their bond. He could sense the mother's affinity for magic, but the father displayed no such talent. Rather, an obvious aversion to it. The realisation made him scoff. It was always a mystery to him, why one with knowledge of the arcane would settle for the most mundane of partners, but he held his tongue. He was there for one reason, and that reason was breaking down in front of him.

"Gale," the mother repeated. "It's alright, sweetheart." She pulled him into a merciful hug. "It's alright. I know you didn't mean it."

"I'm sorry..." he muttered, melting in her embrace. "I'm sorry, mommy. Please don't take my books away."

"Shh, we're not going to take your books away.

The father lurched forward. "Morena, I just said—!"

"We're not going to take your books away," she snapped. "Now please, go to your room. I'll bring you some lunch come noon."

The boy pulled away, wiping his eyes with his sleeve. He sniffed quietly, his jaw tense as he tried to compose himself. As he stepped around his mother, he leaned away from his father, but looked up at Elminster with a brief gaze of shame and curiosity. He had no idea who the old man was or why he was there, but he was too upset to ask. Instead, he dashed to his room, slamming the door behind him.

"Morena, I know you mean well, but you coddle that boy."

"I don't want to hear it, Alexis. He's your son, but you've made absolutely no attempt to share his interests."

"Maybe that's because I don't want to get my eyebrows singed off. I'm not like you. I can't just shield myself from his outbursts."

"They're not 'outbursts'. You act as though he's some kind of delinquent. I've never seen him use magic in a moment of anger, not even when the neighbourhood children push him around. Most of the time his spells are harmless, and you're wrong to focus so heavily on his mistakes."

"You're wrong to brush them aside. Mistakes like these get people killed! The housekeeper damn near pissed herself when she walked in on that ... that thing! I don't think she's coming back!"

"She overreacted. If she hadn't started screaming, the mephit wouldn't have panicked."

"The mephit?! Morena, she had every right to 'overreact'. Most people don't come face to face with fiends everyday!"

"It's not a fiend, Alexis, it's an elemental. Loyal to the one who summoned it." With a grunt, she snapped her fingers, and the motionless creature disappeared in a puff of smoke. "There. I've sent it home. No harm done."

"No harm—?" He stared at the now empty space, then groaned, defeated. "Morena, this is getting out of hand. I can't keep doing this. I-I can't support this. I have to put my foot down. No more books, no more magic."

"It's not a choice, Alexis. I've never seen a child with such keen aptitude for magic. It's like it's in his blood. Either we teach him how to harness it or it'll boil over."

"Don't. Don't even try it. I'm no fool, Morena. He's not a sorcerer. This isn't wild magic. It's not spilling out of him like a sieve. He can stop any time we choose to make him."

Elminster cleared his throat, loudly.

"Oh, yes. Forgive us," Morena sighed. "I had hoped to welcome you under ... merrier circumstances."

"Fear not." He waved his hand, jauntily. "This isn't the first mess I've walked in on when it comes to gifted children, and I doubt it will be the last."

"Gifted?" The father squeaked. "Gifted?!"

"Indeed. You'd admonish your son when you should be praising him. As I said earlier, most university students fail to summon a mephit." He turned his attention to the mother. "Did I hear you rightly? He's only eight?"

"Yes, and only just. By a few weeks."

"Incredible."

"I know," she giggled. "I could hardly believe it when the housekeeper came running to me about a 'winged beast' setting fire to the parlor."

"Have you both lost your senses?!" the father interjected. "Morena, who is this man?"

She caught her breath, pushing her pride for her son aside. "This is Elminster Aumar. Remember? I told you he'd be visiting us today. He wrote to me a tenday ago, asking about Gale. It seems word of our little wizard has reached beyond Waterdeep."

"Do not call him that!" The man hissed. "He's not a wizard, he's a boy. A normal boy. I told you, this ends today. No more books, no more spells, no more fiends or bats or whatever you want to call them. No more magic! He'll be an artisan like me and he'll like it. You just have to stop filling his head with nonsense." He pointed to Elminster. "And you—" He went to speak, his tone harsh, but he paused and collected himself, if only to save face. "I'm sorry you travelled all this way from ... wherever you're from, but I'm afraid your services are no longer needed."

"How dare you," Morena whispered, her voice low but laced with fury. "When you married me, you knew this was a possibility. We talked about it. You were fine with it."

"That was before he started tormenting little girls with necromancy!" He let out a long, winded breath. "Morena, this isn't right. You said it yourself, magic like this is beyond a child's comprehension. He shouldn't even be able to—!"

"If I may inquire?" Elminster asked, careful not to incense the father further. "I'm here because I know, better than most, how difficult it can be to raise a Weave-touched child. I can see the strain it's putting on you, and as a neutral party, I can attest you both make valid points. So please, tell me about the necromancy, and let's try to keep a level head. This is about your son, after all. About his future. If you'll accept it, I'm willing to share my expertise."

The parents exchanged glances, then looked away from each other, embarrassed. The father, without a word, walked away and leaned against the wall, his eyes falling to the cinders on the floor. Elminster could tell he was at his wits' end, but he felt very little sympathy. His desire to stifle such beautiful talent, to hold magic in such low regard—it was an affront to Mystra herself.

"He wasn't trying to 'torment' anyone," the mother chimed. "He was just trying to help."

"Tell me what happened."

"There's a girl who lives a few doors down from us. Loria. She had a songbird she kept in her room, but somehow it got out of its cage and flew into a window outside. As I'm sure you can imagine, the impact broke its neck. When Gale found her, she was weeping in the street, holding the poor thing in her hands. He only ... he only wanted to help. To make her feel better."

"Enough," Elminster said, sensing the woman's mouthing distress. "I understand."

"No you don't!" the father barked. "When he brought that thing back, its limbs twisted in every direction, squawking like it was in pain. He wounded that poor girl more than the bird's death ever could have."

"You're overlooking the fact that it was all well intentioned," Morena argued. "And magic like that is practically impossible for a child his age. It's a miracle he managed to reanimated it at all."

"That doesn't excuse it!"

"I didn't say it did! If we just teach him when and where it's acceptable to use magic, as well as how to perfect his skills—"

"Morena!"

"Magic is part of him!" she screeched, clenching her fists. "You need to accept that!"

"I'm afraid she's right," Elminster added. "Gale may not be a sorcerer, but the Weave has called to him. It has plans for him. Mystra has plans for him."

The father paled, his anger waning in an instant. "The goddess?"

"Yes. Taking his books, depriving him of proper study, it won't placate him. Magic flows through him like molten lava, and lava cannot be tamed. I know the toll this has taken on you, but your son is no mere boy. Not anymore."

"Is that so? Then what exactly is he?"

Elminster smiled. "A prodigy."

-----

Gale paced about his room, gripping his hair as his chest heaved. He couldn't figure out where he went wrong. He didn't mispronounce any of the words, and the mephit, though not what he intended to summon, was peaceful until the housekeeper tried to smack it with a broom.

In a fit of emotions, he dropped to the floor and buried his head in his knees, squeezing them tightly. He didn't want to be alone anymore, and he hated his father's cruelty, but maybe he was right. Images of Loria screaming over her bird flashed in his mind, the guilt overwhelming him. First her, then the housekeeper. He never wanted to hurt anyone, he only wanted a friend.

"Why didn't it work?" he sobbed, his nails digging into his trousers. "Is it me? Tressyms only come to the pure of heart, so maybe I'm just not..."

He wept, for a long time. When he lifted his head, his eyes were swollen and heavy, his mouth sore. With a sniffle, he wiped his nose, then looked to his dresser; to the small ornate jar sat on the far corner. Though he felt too numb to stand, he forced himself to his feet and retrieved it, and then he shook it back and forth, rattling the coins inside.

"That was mother's favourite carpet..." He popped the lid and poured the coins onto the dresser. "Not much, but better than nothing, I guess."

With a pained frown, he began separating each coin by value, counting what was there. It was the least he could do, he thought, to make up for his blunder. He truly loved magic, but he never wanted to hurt anyone with it; least of all the people who cared for him the most.

"One hundred and twenty," he said, mournfully. "That carpet ... cost seventeen times that." He gulped, staving off another rush of tears. "So much for our vacation to Neverwinter. Looks like I ruined that, too."

With one swift motion, he swept the coins back into the jar, then moved to take it to his mother, hoping it would make an apt apology. Before reaching the door; however, he gasped, his body freezing. His eyes widened, his back arching as he dropped the jar to the floor.

"Never ... winter?"

A sudden burst of clarity. Of inspiration. He ran to his bookshelf and grabbed a large, leather bestiary from the lineup. As big as his torso, he struggled to lift it, but dragged it to his bed with a determined limp, then dropped it on the mattress.

"That old man said mephits come from Eberron. So maybe ... maybe my spell was too expansive. I need to narrow it down."

For several minutes, he flipped through the pages, tracing the sentences with his finger. Finally, he came across the passage that answered his prayers, and he grinned.

Most tressyms hail from the warm, temperate lands of Faerûn, and are most commonly seen in northern Cormyr, particularly in the village of Eveningstar.

"This is it!"

With renewed vigor, he wrenched up the rug in the middle of his room, revealing a large casting circle painted on the floor; a seven-pointed star surrounded by glyphs. His excitement brimming, he grabbed a quill and wrote 'Neverwinter' in the northern triangle, then tossed it aside and positioned himself in the center. All the mayhem of that morning and the consequences it incurred seemed to fade as he took a deep, calming breath.

"I can do this. I can do this."

Slowly, he clapped his hands together, his mind fixated on what he wanted most. As the magic swirled inside him, ready to serve, his hair stood on end, but not out of fear. Exhilaration. He couldn't help but smile as he closed his eyes and chanted the words, "Ah-Thran Mystra-Ryl Kantrach-Ao."

Immediately, the scent of rosewater filled the air, tickling his nose and tongue. It was sweet and welcoming, a sensation he'd grown to crave on an almost daily basis. It made him feel safe. Seen. As streams of azure and violet whirled around him, he lifted his hands above his head and faced the ceiling.

"Ang'alor ko malo fynndo Virr e'etu fem'molij!"

A gust of wind erupted through the room, so powerful it sent several objects flying through the air, but Gale held strong, his arms shaking as a mass of bright colours exploded from his fingertips. His arms shook, the deluge of dancing lights twisting from a shapeless husk into something more familiar. Then, he heard a soft mew in the distance, causing him to gasp. He'd opened a rift, and before long a small feather blew though and brushed against his cheek.

"My word!" a feminine voice echoed. "This is most irregular. Who is—?"

An abrupt and blinding flash, then a weight that nearly brought Gale to his knees. He winced, blinking rapidly to regain his senses—and when he did, his eyes fell upon the face of a cat, which he unknowingly cradled in his arms, her paws pushing against his chest. In that moment, words failed him, his mouth hanging open in a daze.

"I say, who are you?" the creature asked, her ears twitching.

She wasn't angry or frightened, merely confused, but a quick glance around her esoteric surroundings answered in kind. The room was teeming with books, knickknacks, and artefacts that only one type of person would keep, and she knew that type of person well. Stretching her wings, she shuffled in the boy's arms, making herself more comfortable.

"I see. A young wizard, are you?" She peered up at him, her bright eyes studying his face. "Hmm. Very young, it seems. Well then, that explains why you summoned me. You need a firm hand, yes? I'll warn you now, child, I expect you to take your studies seriously. I'll not abide laziness." She pulled back a bit, licking her paw. "And I trust I'll receive a steady intake of fish and pigeons? They're my favourite, I'll have you know. Well, after beholder, but I don't expect you to fetch something so dangerous on my behalf. In fact, I forbid it."

"I..." Gale's brow furrowed, his eyes gleaming.

"My name is Tara, by the bye. Perhaps I should've opened with that. Though you've neglected to tell me your name." She tilted her head, gesturing for a response, but the boy said nothing. "I see I have my work cut out for me. Manners, young man. Manners. So, what should I call you? Mister—?"

"I—I..."

"Yes? Speak clearly, dear. My hearing may be sharp, but mumbles are indecipherable, even for a tressym."

He couldn't contain his smile as he pulled the beast into a tight but careful hug, which was met with the faintest sound of purring.

"I did it!"

[spotaus]

Did some redesign mock-ups for Ec-4o.verse Cross, Fresh, and Error!

These guys didn't really *need* redesigns but I was having a ball with Trech (Ec-4o!Fresh) and gave him Arcade Carpet designs and decided I needed to redesign some others too! (Check below the cut for Old Designs, Lore, and a Stupid Screenshot from my pal @/Neonsix67)

So OLD DESIGNS:

(We're gonna act like I drew Trech more than twice-)

So, old art, yucky, whatever. We know the drill lmao- but because Ec-4o.verse is such an ongoing project these guys have been through a bunch of redesigns. Regrettably, me from 2 years ago was unaware of Layering and Shape Language, so they look kinda gross.

Cross' design has consistently been my favorite I think, just because he was a later addition and so had a bunch of my newer ideas integrated. They all have their flaws tho (Cross was too lean and got thrown between Baby and Grown Guy too often in my art. Error uhhh... yeesh. When I say I couldn't draw him, I meant it. I never knew what to do with his wires and I kept putting him in armor? Fresh just wasn't fleshed out enough. He was that SparkleDog of my verse.)

Also: I wanted Fresh to be top-heavy, like, big baggy round clothes on his upper half then lil guy legs. Cross I wanted to be more flat and strict, hense his clothes being all Tube-shaped. Then Error needed Triangle vibes. His old design was too Rectangle for me. The exposed limbs are mostly just for me because I love a-symmetry and also I don't keep a consistent clothing style, so I like to keep a visually interesting element (like a limb) exposed for clarity's sake when I draw them in new poses later.

LORE:

Cross: A robot (Ecto) who was initially a Guard-Model ecto. He was one of the last to be turned over when the government was rallying citizens to donate their bots to fight in the war. He was remodeled and supplied with a special task by his Programmer: Protect THE FILES at all costs. He's rather small for a guard-bot, but makes up for it with his agility and sheer stubbornness. Blue finds him heavily damaged and on low battery in an old lab, guarding a room that was sealed tight. His Old design utilized Shields (scarf detached to become them) but his new design is much more focused on quick bursts of offense. If he gets you first, then you're no longer a threat.

Error: an Ecto who was one of the first bots handed over. He was a former data storage bot that worked at a small library. As one of the first data-bots to come in, he was immediately modified and put to work alongside other Ectos to compile all of the nation's history into their data banks. Error was particularly receptive to overloads of data, so he continued to be modified and made into the prime data-bank. When the war started, he was eventually hidden away and sealed in an air-tight room. Eventually Cross was sent to guard the door. They were eachother's only company for... years? Error isn't fond of touch or tampering with hid systems, as everything he knows is barely abd haphazardly stored on unsafe files. Each Crash he endures takes more and more of his own personal data away, and he refuses to lose any more.

Fresh (Trech): A Parasite that was created by Sci to repair living beings in the same way that an Ecto can auto-repair itself. Fresh is actually a liquid that, when placed in contact with a wounded/dying person, it can invade their systems and stop all forms of bleeding/dusting. Fresh wasn't supposed to be sentient, and was meant to be scrapped, but he ended up being vital in stopping the war. In turn, Sci granted him freedom. Fresh can inhabit humans, monsters, and Ectos, but prefers skeleton monsters. He often defies the logic of his world, but what Fresh doesn't? Blue meets him far into the story after he's unraveled a lot of mysteries. Fresh just drops by after hearing rumors of Blue's repair work, and is met by less-than-warm reception from Error and Geno.

Other:

I was trying to save the image and my phone was bugging out, so I sent it to Neon. Safe to say she has peak comedic timing 😌💖 (For the record, we are both adults, and also my parents are aware I draw utmv stuff, so she had to make the threat actually a threat lmao---) I also love Chilchuck talking with the Operator. We are the dynamic duo frfr.

[800-dick-pics]

Disabled Household and Black Elder in need to support!!!

In late Aug throught Sept my mom has been experiencing an increase in her symptoms, she went to the ER over 7 times and not much came of it until, we found out shes been having MINI STROKES, and her heart could be spurting out blood clots as well, so currently my mom is undergoing intense treatments to help with her heart and brain damage due to the anti black ,fatphobic medical system continually missing her symptoms

My mother is trying to still work to keep the lights on but its killing her straight up, and the drs "aren't sure" if my mom "really needs" disability atm so were gonna start up a fund so my mom can retire asap and to help make this house accessible to a stroke survivor with increasing mobility and neurological issues!

I have more than 1 job, and so does my partner but its not enough to take care of all 3 of us esp my mom. We need help with almost everything since insurance wont pay for a caregiver or to make the house accessible. We have to do everything out of pocket so we need funds for; Medical supplies, drs visits and medical bills;To make the house accessible as possible and to get a retirement fund going so my mom can stop working herself into an early grave

For the retirement fund Im going to be asking and aiming for 300 weekly and I am going to prioritize this as this going to be the only funds my mom will have after retirement. Once we hit 300 everything else goes into accessibility products and the current house repairs were sitting near $700, thats to fix our steps, for getting a shower chair, grab bars around the house, getting carpet, and replacing every door handle for something she can grip. And for her medical supplies/bills and appts Im still trying to figure out the grand costs of it all (its alot alot) and trying to see if insurance will cover more than they are.

Retirement Fund: Week 10/30 - 11/6

$0/$300

Accessibility/house repairs

$0/$700

CA: $sleepyhen OR $grumblybear

VN: wildwotko OR XochiRose

TLDR: We are a disabled house of 3 trying to take care of my mothers since she has had mini strokes and severe heart issues. We need to take steps to make this home more accessible for her, start saving funds for her unexpected retirement and all of the medical bills we are now paying out of pocket

Thank you for reading and thank you to everyone who has been following along with my mothers health, I do appreciate it so very deeply. Even if youre unable to donate please share it esp to those who can give a lil bit.

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[seat-safety-switch]

We have bred, in our darkest laboratories, a genetically-modified strain of ultra-caterpillars whose entire purpose for existence is to produce carbon-fibre-bolstered thread for our new line of hard-wearing socks. It’s hell on their little buttholes, but they gladly bear it if it means you don’t immediately rip a hole in the big toe getting ready for work in the morning.

For years, I slaved away at a job I hated in order to afford the socks I needed to go to that job. My dried-out heels and rough, proletarian carpet would shred those suckers after only a few weeks of operation. Buying more expensive socks didn't work: they were just the same crappy material with a more expensive badge on the package.

In times long past, socks really lasted. They were extremely expensive, so much so that it made sense to repair them. If it cost me like a week's wages, I'd probably have learned to darn socks too. Sixteen bucks, at most? Not worth it.

One fateful day, I went to work with slightly mismatched socks. Heel holes on both of their mates, but the unholed ones ended up in the wash. At the end of my rope, I had done my laundry in the dark, not wanting to switch the lights on and consume valuable power that could pay for more socks instead. In that darkness I had matched a dark blue sock with a slightly less dark blue sock, with a different collar pattern. Disaster. All day long, I hid my feet under my desk to conceal the sin from view, but the roving pack of sales guys could smell it on me. They laughed at me, with their fascist haircuts and their tailored suits and their matching socks. Well, who's laughing now?

This day, I sit atop an empire. Our pitch: unbreakable socks. They wear like stone. Better than stone, really, because stone isn't compressed to several thousand PSI and woven into a corrugated laminate capable of withstanding indirect small-calibre fire. Of course, all this comes at a price. They cost about $25 a pair. Oh, and the next weakest link in the chain is your shoes. These babies will rip through a pair of athletic trainers in about two weeks, less if you sweat a lot. That's Bob Reebok's problem. While you're over there, asking them to fix it, see if their socks match. I bet they don't.

[jae-bummer]

More Than You Wanted

Request: HALLO MY DEAR! Welcome back to writing 💛 May I HUMBLY request either 7 or 9 (or both cause we all love that hurt comfort spice) with the one and only Mr. Kim Mingyu? He's moved into bias zone, I am ASHAMED /s

Prompt:

7) "Doesn't matter what happens...if you call me, I will always answer."

9) "I don't want them. I want you."

Prompt list can be found HERE.

Pairing: Seventeen Mingyu x Reader

Genre: Angst/Steamy

.

The carpet in your apartment building was disgusting. Covered in dirt (at least you hoped that's what the stains were) and always kind of moist, you avoided contact with it at all costs. But now, you were sitting on it. Slumped against the wall behind you with your head in your hands, you were sitting on the world's dirtiest carpet and crying.

It had been approximately two hours since you had contacted your building's repair man, and an hour since you talked to anyone in management. You had locked yourself out and were completely exhausted. All you wanted was to lay down and maybe binge watch your favorite drama. You hadn't signed up for enrichment time outside of your enclosure today.

Cringing as the idea came across your mind, you looked helplessly down at your phone. It would be just so easy to text your ex-boyfriend. The two of you had never met up to exchange each other's things, so he still had your key.

Taking a deep breath and blowing it out slowly, you lifted up your phone and scrutinized the battery life. It was running below 10% at this point, so if you were going to do it, you needed to suck it up. Scrolling almost to the bottom of your saved text messages, you found Mingyu's name and tapped.

you busy?

That was safe, right? You didn't want to make him worry and you certainly didn't want to inconvenience him. You had done enough of that in your past relationship.

You weren't surprised when you saw typing bubbles appear before you had even locked your phone. Of course, he was going to be hyper available during your crisis.

Depends. What's up?

What a terrible non-response.

i was wondering if you could stop by and drop off my key?

Want me to bring the rest of your stuff?

not if it's not already with you...

"Why would it already be with him?" you muttered. "Please use your one active brain cell before you hit send again."

i just really need my key

Contrary to what you may believe, I have no plans to break into your apartment. Can I drop it off at the end of the week?

You groaned, leaning back and lightly bonking your head repeatedly on the wall behind you.

Resisting the urge to reply with "that's fine" and leave your fate in the hands of your apartment complex, you quickly typed out a message.

i locked myself out of my apartment.

Give me 10 minutes.

Breathing a momentary sigh of relief, you commended yourself. Texting Mingyu had not been easy, but it was a necessary evil for your own mental well-being. Surely you could play nice for approximately 45 seconds while he handed you your key and walked back down the stairs. You had 45 seconds worth of gratitude in your system, didn't you?

Closing your eyes, you tried not to think too hard about seeing him again. Naturally, that had the opposite effect, and you began dragging out memories that you hadn't touched in weeks. Your relationship had started out innocently enough. You had been an English tutor for the entertainment company that Mingyu was signed to and tutored him weekly. After spending hours upon hours with each other, a natural closeness formed between the two of you. While yes, you had been close to all of the artists in one way or another, something with him was different. It was something warmer, something more incendiary.

You found yourself actually paying attention to how you dressed or how you styled your hair. Starting to become overly interested in your personal appearance likely should have been a red flag. You knew better than to start anything with an idol.

Against your better judgement, your sessions quickly turned into flirting for hours. Mingyu was incredibly smart, so it wasn't a surprise when he was ahead in his English lessons. With the spare time, you got to know each other. Finally, one day he asked you out for dinner.

With time, the two of you had become inseparable. That was until the company found out about the burgeoning relationship. It only took days for them to threaten Mingyu until he said he couldn't see you anymore. It came as no surprise that a few weeks later, they had alienated you so entirely that you put in your notice.

"Stupid," you muttered to yourself. "How could you have been so stupid."

"People forget their keys all the time, Y/N," you heard a familiar voice say above you. "Do you know how often I lock myself out of places?"

"But you have twelve other people to rely on," you sighed, opening your eyes. "And I have...well, you."

Mingyu looked down, a sad smile playing over his lips. God, why was he allowed to look so good? You could tell he had showered only minutes ago judging by his damp hair. He had thrown on a pair of fitted joggers and a t-shirt. It should be against the law to make casual wear look so expensive just by being hot.

Using the wall as leverage, you pulled yourself up to stand. "Thanks for doing this. I didn't mean to disrupt your whole afternoon."

"Don't" he said softly, shaking his head. "Doesn't matter what happens...if you call me, I will always answer."

He dug around in his pocket, producing the pink Hello Kitty key you gave him ages ago. It looked so small in the palm of his hand.

"Well anyhow," you said quietly, taking it. "Thanks."

He nodded, signaling the end of the conversation. You went to turn away from him but paused. He wasn't moving.

"Y/N, this whole thing" he motioned between the two of you. "When did this happen?"

"What do you mean?"

"When did we become strangers?" he sighed. "Because honestly it is hurts so bad."

An unknown feeling of annoyance bubbled up to the surface. "Mingyu, you broke up with me."

"You had to have known that it wasn't really me," he whispered, looking away. "I didn't have much of a choice at the time."

"Whether you did or not, we knew it wasn't going to work out in the long run."

"Don't say that!" he snapped. "I loved you...I still love you."

"Mingyu," you said quietly, deflated by his reaction. "You have millions of people out there wanting you. You're an idol. If your company discourages you dating noncelebrities, that is what it is."

"I don't want them. I want you," he said hoarsely. Stepping closer, he took your face in his hands.

You could feel tears beginning to gather at your lash line. "Mingyu-"

"Let me talk to them. The management team and everyone above and in between. Let me fight for us like I was too scared to do before," he whispered.

You tried to shake your head, but your face remained caught. Reaching up and placing your hands atop his, you sighed. "I wish it were that easy."

"It's not easy at all" he said, furrowing his brows. His eyes searched yours. "Nothing about love is easy. Nothing worth fighting for is easy."

"Mingyu," you whimpered, tears starting to fall. "I just wanted my key..."

"Yeah, well," he breathed. "You're getting more than you wanted for once."

Before you could clock his advancement, Mingyu's lips were on yours. You felt your tears falling even faster as you reached to grasp the fabric of his shirt. Because of you, the kisses were much wetter than normal, but it didn't stop his urgent need. He was manic with his movements; afraid you may slip away at any point. After every labored breath, his lips found yours again and again. Biting, licking, groaning against your mouth, you thought you would simply unravel in the dingy hallway.

Eventually the two of you had to take a break, all of the emotion was just too much. His hands sliding from your face and resting on your hips, he looked down at you, his expression hopeful.

"Why don't you come inside?" you asked nervously, unsure of what would happen moving forward. "We can talk."

"Sure," Mingyu nodded, a genuine smile spreading across his lips. "I'd like that very much."

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