#Fixing things

[furiousgoldfish]

For those who need it: MercuryStardust on tiktok does a lot of videos teaching you how to do things yourself at home. Specifically in regards to fixing things. Please don't ever worry about how hard it can be to manage a house by yourself- as someone who had been told all his life I can't do anything, using YouTube tutorials and listening to creators like MercuryStardust helped me gain independence!!

Thank you for the resource!

[god-of-expression]

hi - just wanted to check in and ask if you’re doing better?

- @x-malitae-x

Eh.. a bit? Maybe?

Someone visited, his name's Oscar.

I want to try to fix things..

[sharry-arry-odd]

Sam's grandfather had two core beliefs: (1) all things were knowable by anyone, and (2) anything was fixable if you took the time to figure out what was broken.

Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, by Gabrielle Zevin

[calcedon79]

I had planned to write this afternoon. No children, no appointments, time for me. Yeah, sure 🤦‍♀️ Instead, I just spent two hours taking the washing machine apart, replacing the rubber seals, draining the floor pan, cleaning the drain pump and putting everything back together again. What was the biggest problem? My youngest likes lollipops… and Lego. (I found half a Lego set and four lollipop sticks.) Well, still nothing written, but at least I now know how to repair a washing machine. That's something.

[agentsquirrelsgotrobots]

Visible mending for the win! It's not pretty, but it works.

[thestudentfarmer]

November 2, 2024

October came and went like a lightening bolt, my apologies it's been a bit since I posted, things have gotten a bit crazy this way with some personal things. With luck now the October shuffles just about done and the November tubslide will be a bit gentler.

Onto some urban homesteading and otherwise~

I'm going to have to restart my fall seeds. Unfortunately, there was a bit of a situation which killed off my seed table and started plants entirely. For the most part, it's sorted, but I'll have to begin my fall and winter crops from scratch and hope there's time for em to grow. Otherwise I'll need to figure some other crops instead. Probably more chicken food or flowers/peas instead.

Thankfully, the already established in ground crops were okay for the most part. Some a bit stressed or stunted from lack of consistent watering.

Sweet potato has already started flowering now, i really didn't get any greenery from it so far (mayby a pound), so I'm just gonna let it keep going for now. When it msotly dies back I'll dig them out.

The sunchoke has now begun flowering, it's rather different than the last flowering I thought it did. Mayby a regular sunflower got mixed in? I did plant them around the time the regular sunflowers started sprouting.

I'm pretty excited to try the Tubers out, if there's enough for a decent harvest. Otherwise I'm taking them and spreading to another bit of the garden for fill in and propogation.

I can confirm, we do have a rooster. His name is Heihei. He's not gone through full second molt, but we've seen his curly feather, now hear his crowing and have caught him doing what roosters do lol.

Looks like I may get to try out hatching after all :)

No new layers so far, but hoping soon :)

Spotted this feather, which i believe belongs to one of the local woodpeckers. (I didn't take it, not allowed where I live)

Also have started spotting hummingbirds more locally and regularly. The parrots have returned again, though they aren't currently visiting us (no sunflowers yet ) and I think we've had a few female cardinals visit the lambs quarter plant I'm letting go to seed. Haven't noticed much in new bug species.

I got to learn how to change tires on a dolly this month. It was quite a bit easier than expected, cost less than $30 and gave new life to a good tool.

Thats it for now, ive got some chores to do and hopefully some time to get garden set up a bit :) new photos and updates coming ASAP!

🌱🍊Happy Urban homesteading🍊🌱

[popcorn-plots]

i fixed my binder, and I found my skirt :3

the necklace is a bit suffocating though but it looks cute

[akariarda]

I love you, but not like that

Love doesn't always have to be romantic, and Misako knew that. Somehow it seemed to her that Wu didn't agree with that.

Misako and Wu relationship in the past (if you want I will add one with Garmadon later)

@46674332-Thank you for the request and patience.Hope you have more requests! I would love to write them!

Misako stood in the waiting room of Ninjago City Hospital.

Opposite her was Wu, with his innocent face expression and blue hair. He was staring at something behind her.

She could confidently say that she liked Wu at first sight. But not in that way.

She was attracted to his childlike innocence and naiveté in many things. Without hesitation, she could say he was her favorite among friends.

But recently, things had started to change in their relationship...

"Are you okay?" she asked when she saw him nervously shifting from one side of the chair to the other.

"I'm a little scared," he looked at her with the gaze of a wounded animal.

That was Wu. A man who could jump into any battle against anyone but couldn't receive an injection at the hospital without someone holding his hand.

It only attracted her to him even more.

"It will be okay," she comforted him. "You'll see."

He looked at her again.

Those looks were the reason why she began to feel unsure in their relationship.

Until a few months ago, they were just friends and nothing more. Then he started looking at her like that, and everything changed.

Almost as if he liked her?

That's when she began to doubt her feelings towards him.

Was it really just friendship, or did she not see something more?

"Garmadon...he teased me again today..."

And every time he mentioned Garmadon. She had a good relationship with him, but not as good as with Wu.

He was someone she could easily argue with, someone she could get mad at more easily. She could also confidently say that she really liked him.

Although Wu was more her type, Garmadon attracted her much more. Whenever she thought of him, she could say for sure that Wu didn't like her in that way.

"Don't worry, I won't tease you," she said when she remembered what Wu had said.

He looked at her again.

"But I'm embarrassed."

"There's nothing to be embarrassed about. For example, I'm afraid of spiders and I can't even kill the tiniest one. We all have those fears."

"Garmadon is rude," Wu sighed. "He doesn't know how much his teasing hurts me. He's just...a bad person."

"Don't say that," Misako said, surprised at herself. She felt no hatred towards Garmadon for teasing Wu. She felt only understanding.

"Why do you always defend him?" Wu asked angrily.

"I'm not defending him," Misako defended herself, and Wu looked at her skeptically.

"I sympathize with him. I also enjoy teasing people. Just tell him that it hurts you. I'll tell him if you want."

Wu looked at her as if he wasn't happy about talking to Garmadon about it.

As if he wasn't happy that she and Garmadon were getting closer.

"I don't like doing these things..."

"I know, Wu," Misako said with tenderness. "That's why everyone loves you, because you're a good person."

******

"See, it wasn't scary," Misako said as they were leaving the doctor's office.

He was still ashamed that she had to see him scared like a little child.

"It wasn't", he said quietly, still stealing glances at her.

"Thank you for coming with me." As he looked at her, he wondered if she felt anything towards him like what he felt towards her.

"No problem," she said as she turned to leave. Wu could only watch as she walked away.

"And Wu.."She started unsurly."I love you.i really do,but not like that."

He didn't need to say anything; she read him herself. He was just afraid that he had jeopardized their friendship.

He truly loved her and wanted her to be happy.

He just hoped that they could still spend time together.

He was just afraid that it wouldn't happen for a long time.

He had created a gap between them, he knew.

He would be alone because he would never be able to love anyone else the way he loved her.

And she didn't love him; she had told him that herself.At least not like that.

But maybe there is still a hope?(If dose thing that he started to see between her and Garmadon stop)

Garmadon and Misako talk is coming soon

[notbrokenjustfake]

Head Canons:

-Not so much HC, more so actual canon. He is a construct built from stolen Kheanri'ahan's knowledge. He doesn't need to eat, sleep, or drink. He can, but it isn't necessary for survival. For me, he is male with male anatomy.

-He is a divine puppet! He will never be human. This isn't fucking Pinocchio, and you will not love him in to becoming a real boy.

-That time is spent in research pertaining to Nahida's missions and his desires. He also pokes around in the Abyss, which currently is probably the only place he feels whole.

-Not a player per se, but I wouldn’t put it past him to manipulate randoms into bed, use them for what they are worth, and ghost them… If the mood ever struck him. It would not be pretty or nice in the least.

-There is just nothing soft about this man. He is toxic, selfish, vengeful, hateful and power-hungry. Until he decides to give a fuck about something other than himself and vengeance killing this will remain the case.

-Weaknesses will be exploited. He is not a good person.

-If he’s nice it is because he wants something, or he simply is bored and wishes to toy with someone because he can. We have seen this behavior in the meteor event where he played the good guy to get close and attempt to kill the Traveler and again in Irminsul. It is a mask and a role; he can slide right into it for any reason he chooses.

-On offering his memories back, Nahida specifically states that he will revert to his previous incarnation (The Balladeer). During this cut scene, he specifically says, “All worthless dross will be purged that’s why this won’t be the end.” While he is less antagonistic towards them and he does take responsibility for his actions, he does not regret them. He assists them because he feels like he owes them both and it's better than being worthless.

-He is also an injustice collector. The “betrayals”, outside of Dottore, could be explained to any reasonable being. However, he clings to them like a blanket. It’s not only HIS INJUSTICES he collects. It’s everyone’s, every misstep of every human he has ever met is a mark against humanity. After 400 years of watching humanity doing the awful shit they do, he has simply determined they are inferior.

-He doesn’t stay in Sumeru. He is in contact with researchers due to assisting Nahida. He is not “the popular asshole college/high school guy.” Nahida wants badly for him to see the good in humanity, so I would not put it past her to leak out his birthday and encourage interaction.

-He doesn’t even consider his “birth” day to be anything then another day… and I don't see Nahida being good for him. You don't help a person get better by forcing them to do something they hate; this is only going to breed more hate.

-Wanderer’s clean slate isn’t to fit into humanity, it is to learn to accept himself and to be himself, and going along with that he'd want to be accepted for who he is by the people who claim to care. Which is the dual meaning behind the finches. Rebirth and find your true north. This is your path, stay on it.

-He still hates humanity and still believes that they are inferior. All of this is made clear in his voice lines on his playable character, and all of this combined with his story so far indicates that he's not changed all that much. Sometimes, broken things are just too broken.

-He's been tortured by Dottore twice.

-He’s tried to kill the Traveler on 3 occasions. This ship is not something I am going to write. Is cool if you are into it, it's just a lot for me to get past to even feel anything.

-With that being said he considers the Traver to be a dull naive waste of time. A mewing kitten with a hero complex accompanied by an equally moronic screeching garbage disposal. His somewhat tolerable attitude toward them being nothing more than a shred of respect and repayment.

-Due to spending a lot of time in the Abyss, he's met the Abyss twin, and this would be a preferred interaction.

-On EI. This is easy to write off as abandonment issues and it may have even started off that way. However, over time it's become more anger about being denied his birth right.

[windsails]

🌊 the problem with too much repetition

say for example you have a ritual of wishing someone peace, you say "peace be with you" every single day upon greeting someone on the street

but if this ritual becomes too common and is repeated too often it eventually gets taken for granted, it becomes unconscious and therefore loses its conscious meaning and eventually people forget what it was originally adopted for in the first place

this is dangerous! because if the ritual exists for a reason, it's important to preserve the reason for the solution just as much as the solution is important

in other words, documenting problems is just as important as documenting solutions!!!! if all you do is document solutions you're going to end up creating a situation where all the solutions get taken for granted and then you're set up for a huge fall from grace

beware of documenting all the solutions, but none of the problems...! this is when people start to take all the solutions for granted until one day somebody decides to say "ok i've had enough of these boring old solutions" and then they literally created a bajillion problems nobody could remember how to solve anymore

THIS IS WHY IT IS NECESSARY TO REINVENT SOLUTIONS AGAIN AND AGAIN AND AGAIN AND AGAIN

because if you don't they will get taken for granted and eventually someone blind to the value of what they have in front of them will make the mistake of throwing away paradise in favor of some more interesting looking disaster

so it's safer, to intentionally explore fictional disasters constantly specifically so you can learn from them and so you can keep everyday solutions fresh and new in everyone's eyes

[twocupsnapalm]

Watch the Window

A more realistic end to the "Countdown" mission because you don't just 'recover' from gunshot wounds.

Soap has a terrible, horrible, very bad day.

Turns out Ghost is capable of emotion.

TW: blood, violence, graphic descriptions of injury, angst, anxiety, profanity, mention of surgery.

"Hassan had him by the leg, dragging him towards the massive windows. He was speaking, but all Soap could hear was the blood rushing in his ears".

The boxcutter was a clumsy tool, but it did the job. Pulling it from the man’s neck, he got to his feet and checked did a visual check of the room ahead of him. A spray of bullets peppered the concrete walls, several catching the back of Soap’s Kevlar vest. The force of it knocked him to his knees, forcing the air from his lungs. He turned just in time to see Hassan fire again, and this time, the rounds punched through his chest with a spray of blood.

He fell backwards, searing pain radiating from his left side as he blacked out.

Fuck.

Instinct took over; words drilled into him every course since basic: don’t panic. Control the breathing. Don’t panic.

The course staff never mentioned was how hard it is to not panic. Assholes.

He sucked in a few deep breaths. It fucking burned, but his vision came back, dark and hazy.

The blurry figure of Hassan slowly stalked towards him.

Dragging himself backwards with his right arm, he desperately searched for a weapon. There was none.

Don’t panic, don’t panic, don’t panic.

Hassan aim the rifle. Soap put up his left hand defensively—as if that would save him— but Hassan suddenly changed his mind, instead driving butt of the rifle drove into Soap’s temple. The pain was debilitating.

Everything went black.

Drifting somewhere between consciousness and oblivion, blurry shapes danced above him. Something was moving.

Oh.

It was him.

Hassan had him by the leg, dragging him towards the massive windows. He was speaking, but all Soap could hear was the blood rushing in his ears. He sucked in a wet, shallow breath, fluid seeping into his throat as he tried to think clearly. 

He should fight.

Arms too heavy.

He should run.

Legs won’t work.

He should shout, scream—anything!

No one to hear.

A moment of clarity punched through the shock-induced haze.

Ghost.

Hassan dropped his leg and moved to one of the windowpanes, pulling something from his coat pocket.

IED.

Shaky hands moved to his comm, praying it still worked.

“Ghost…”. His voice rasped in the back of his throat, distorted by pooling blood

“Soap!”

Tears prickled in his eyes as relief bloomed in his chest.

“Watch the window--!”

Hassan stepped back towards him as the window blew out in a blinding flash of fire, shards of glass bouncing across the floor. Still shouting, he reached down and grabbed the shoulders of Soap’s tac-vest and dragged him to his feet. Pain ripped through his chest and the fluid shifted in his lungs. Vision swam. The scream died in his throat.

His feet scrabbled underneath him as Hassan hauled him towards the open window. They were at the edge now, darkness stretching out below them punctuated by blurry city lights. Shards of glass crunching beneath his feet as Hassan held him over the ruined windowsill, and his stomach churned as he felt his heels rock back into nothingness.

He’d seen this before. He’d been here before. A dream of a dream; free-fall and agony. Lungs full of blood and ears full of wind. Panic was flooding his chest again, breaths coming hard and fast, shallow gasps that fought to pull oxygen into collapsing lungs.

Hassan’s grip on his shoulder straps eased, and his stomach dropped as he felt himself rock backwards.

The kiss of a bullet snapped by Soap’s ear, followed quickly by the tell-tale crack of a high-calibre rifle. Hassan fell backwards, dead, and Soap dropped to the floor.  

Relief screamed through his body as cool concrete pressed up against his palms. He vomited immediately, and then dragged in a ragged breath, shaking hands reaching back up to his comm.

“Perfect shot, Lt”.

“You called it, Sgt”.

The comm went dead and Soap let out a choked sob as he fell forward, desperately dragging himself away from open window. He was hyperventilating now.

You’re alive, you’re alive, you’re alive…

His right arm gave out and he rolled onto his back with a shuddering groan. There was chatter on the comms, but he couldn’t parse out the words.

Pain was overtaken by the creeping chill of shock.

Vision was next to go, followed closely by consciousness.

His body went slack, and the world went black.

Ghost sprinted across the street, weaving between cars to get to the half-finished office building opposite his sniper’s perch.

“Price! Soap’s down!”

“Copy that”.

Laswell’s American contacts were swarming the bottom of the building, a mix of SWAT, EMTs, and FBI. Ghost could hear Price’s voice on the comms coordinating with Laswell as he pushed through the mass people, desperate to get into the building.

Angry shouts followed him, and he spat angry curses over his shoulder.

By some miracle the service elevator was still functional, and he ran it all the way to the 30th storey, unsure exactly which floor Soap had been on. A slew of bodies confirmed that he’d gone through the level. Ghost sloppily cleared the floor, then checked the East windows. They were all intact, so he moved to the next floor and did the same.

Fear knotted in his stomach, but he refused to acknowledge it.

Fear makes mistakes.

He cleared five floors before finally finding the blown-out window—and Soap.

Ghost grabbed his comm as he ran to the body of his Sgt, sliding down beside him.

“I’m with Soap! We’re on the 35th floor”

“How is he?”

Ghost stared down at the broken body in front of him, hands shaking. There was blood—so much blood.

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck!

Pressing a hand to Soap’s neck, Ghost clumsily searched for a pulse. One excruciating moment later, Ghost felt the weak flutter against his fingertips.

He let out a shaky sob breath and got back on the comm.

“He’s alive, but it’s bad!”

“Copy. Sending a med team to you now”.

“Tell them to haul fucking ass!” Ghost shouted, cradling Soap’s head as he checked him over.

From what he could tell, he’d taken several rounds to the left side of his chest, where the Kevlar cut out to allow for full range of motion. Grabbing a pressure bandage from his tac-vest, he ripped through the packaging and pressed it down on the bloody holes in Soap’s side, grateful that he was unconscious; combat medicine hurts like a bitch.

Ghost had no idea how long it took for the medics to reach them, but by the time a pair of blue medical gloves reached in to take over, the bandage was soaked and his hands were slick with blood. The medics moved Soap to a stretcher and carried him back to the service elevator, before disappearing from view.

Ghost stood in the empty level, dragging in heavy, ragged breaths as he wiped shaky hands on the rough fabric of his pants.

He took the stairs down.

Soap was in surgery for 5 hours. Ghost spent that time writing his after-action report and prepping for the debrief, avoiding the anxiety attack that waited for him on the other side of the inevitable adrenaline crash.

It happened every time he lost soldiers—a devastating torrent of emotion that sent him spiralling into the darkest parts of himself. It was unpredictable and uncontrollable—sometimes violent, sometimes loud, sometimes silent, sometimes an hour, sometimes days, always hellish.

He preferred to do it in private.

Five hours later, the reports were done and Soap was lying unconscious in an ICU bed, the noises of the medical ward buzzing quietly in the background. Ghost leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed and jaw clenched tight.

The adrenaline had burned off.

Pushing off the doorframe, he jammed his hands in his pockets and stalked down the hallway, darkness rising in his chest.

[god-of-expression]

The Fog can come get your horns.

- @quixis-midas

Are- are you sure you're ready, Midas..? I don't want to push-

[caitofcaithall]

does anyone else ever feel just... unreasonably guilty for shit that they truly, honestly, cannot control?

my faucet is leaking. it's been leaking, but it hadn't reached like, critical leakage, but it did tonight.

in the middle of the night.

and my ass is sat here feeling insanely guilty that i cannot Fix This Immediately even though i have

1 - identified the problem 2 - looked up how to solve the problem 3 - took steps to initiate solving the problem (eg ordering a kit that should be here later today) 4 - prepared to fix the faucet by cleaning the area around the sink

what the hell else does my brain expect me to do? drive around to find a 24/7 walmart? (afaik there's not one near me). babes. it's 3:30 in the morning. chill. literally no one is expecting you to get this handled tonight.

[oh-a-very-toxic-octopus]

My new forks arrived in this ludicrously enormous box. Even knowing what was inside, I lifted it like there had to be some weight there and thus almost hoisted it over my shoulder.

Alongside my arrived-as-standard set of Sektor Silvers. I've gone for a mild increase in travel, from 140mm to 150mm, and you can sort of see it in the stanchions.

The Revelations weigh under 2kg, which is absurd to me as someone more used to motorbike parts. Even the outgoing Sektors are noticeably heavier.

I was far too excited to photograph the fitting process extensively (even though I probably could have sold the photos to work 🥲👌) but:

I had not bought any replacement anythings, so I used my old bearings and had to prise the crown race (that circular washer-type piece that interfaces with the bottom bearing) from my old forks.

This was fiddly but not too hard — just make sure you spiral around lifting it by a few millimetres at a time so it doesn't distort or get lodged on the tube at an angle.

Fitting it on the new forks was more interesting. Jim has this cool old tool that slips over the steerer tube and applies pressure uniformly.

Unfortunately it's fucking old and doesn't fit modern bicycles. Everything's so much broader now.

So I went through our garage rubbish and found this piece of rubber lagging, god knows what from, and used that + mallet + patience to tap the race into place. Deployed the mallet to undo my brake caliper bolts, too.

Slotted everything roughly into place, marked the desired height on the steerer tube, took it all apart again and hacksawed the crap out of it. Filed it smooth and reinstalled with grease this time, then found a nice flat-headed bolt to use to help whack the star nut into place.

And then put it all back together. I thought I might need a custom bracket for my caliper, but once I ditched the old Shimano one, everything bolted on no problem. O to have such standard sizes in motorbiking.

Woeful pictures, but bike on arrival vs bike now:

It's a Diamondback Corax 1.0 with the Bosch CX Motor. Mods include Revelation RC Forks, Magura MT5 on the front and MT4 on the rear. Mavic Crossmax Elite 27.5 wheelset (running SUPER TACKY tyres, ofc). New stem/bars/grips/pedals.

Still has the old rear shock (Monarch R) derailleur, seat and dropper post system — which is stuck unlocked at the moment, so I need to fix that. The mechanism is fine; just gotta grease or replace the cable and perhaps the dinky stock lever I've struggled with forever. The derailleur is meh, but on an emtb, who gives a fuck.

I doubt I need to replace anything else, really.

But let's see if I can stick to that.

[ethan-amis]

Proper Responses (?)

This is a continuation to the previous post where the fans were outraged and I added a response to it. I felt that from what I saw by other websites on Instagram that may have harsh criticism or anger, they try to sympathize and try to soften the blow by expressing that they hear the upset fan or commenter. I feel that having a connection with the fans and show the same type of energy but in a more controlled way may be affective for the fans understanding and still being up to using the program/channel still. I hope that's what I get from these responses above at least, if there is a way I can word or add something to show that the company is with the fans, that would be the best case scenario

[kaiticn]

at his expense

I learned recently that being harmfully inconsiderate towards a partner does not necessarily have to be explosive; it can be slow, silent, and equally damaging.

I've been in a long rut recently. I've been depressed and unmotivated and immovable. I haven't been able to nurture my needs, let alone my partner's.

The truth is: I am thrilled and excited to go above & beyond for people, but I haven't had the energy for this thrill. I've had no excitement; I've had no passion. I've fallen into the trap of work & assignments & eating. Obligation and routine monotony, losing sight of what makes me feel worthy of human sentience. I preach humanness and vulnerability and warmth and effort, yet my most intimate relationship has been painfully neglected of this. At my hand and at his expense.

I cried as I read all that he's been lacking. I cried beside him in bed under the covers. I cried as we hugged, laying on top of him & replacing the weight of what he was carrying with all that I am.

I saw the extent of hurt I've caused & couldn't see afterwards and mourned the young person inside of him that just wants to be cared for the way that he cares for others.

I told him that with all this brought to light, I've been failing him and failing myself: failing him because I haven't been upholding my commitment to care and reciprocity, and failing myself because I am falling out of the practice of being the partner or person I want to be.

It's time for me to do better by him, which, I know, also means doing better by my own standards. I'm starting with the journal.