#space solution

[bevanne46]

No space for an ironing board? Put an Ironing Cover (found on Temu or Amazon) on your Washing Machine or Dryer.

[thqqube2024]

Office Storage Solution - The Qube

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[lovebunnie]

i simply enjoy drawing radio tv solutions alot

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Remember: The burning sensation is part of the process.

[basingstokemercury]

Julian Bashir on kindness and the sanctity of life (compilation)

(The Wire)

(Past Tense)

(Life Support)

(Hippocratic Oath)

(In Purgatory's Shadow)

(Ties Of Blood And Water)

(Inquisition)

[i-like-forcefem]

Some little boys always knew they wanted to be little girls

But some little boys grow up before figuring it out, you can spot them quite easily

Maybe the way they avoid looking in the mirror, their discomfort at pools, maybe it’s just the way they linger in the girl’s clothing isle

It is such a tragic sight, a beautiful woman is waiting to be born, but she’s still trapped in her own wilful ignorance

So what I like to do when I find “boys” like this is to press them onto a corner

Force that skirt on them, stake their pride on whether they dare put on lipgloss, give them no other option other then confronting their true selves

Make them internalise that:

Yes, you want to wear petty clothes

Yes, you like wearing make up

Yes, you enjoy being “mistaken” for a girl

Yes, you WANT to be a girl

And Yes, that’s all you need to BE a girl

[galacticlamps]

the way Edwin's immediate reaction upon seeing the misery wraith in the Devlin house is to grab Crystal and cover her mouth, even while he's explaining (apparently calmly) that it hunts by sensing negativity and pain - presumably instead of using sight or sound

and the way that he does the exact same thing to Charles when they're reunited in Hell, but here he urges him specifically to be quiet (in what must be the most barely audible line of dialogue in the whole show) because he's found that's the only way he can get a short reprieve between bouts of torture from the spider thing (to the point that when he ran into Simon earlier he - rather nonsensically - believed the sound of tearing paper behind a closed door was also a big risk)

All I'm saying is, it doesn't look like it was actually all that important he stop Crystal from making noise in the Devlin house, and as much as that scene originally read as Edwin kinda having his shit together while Charles & Crystal were both more affected & then literally incapacitated, his head couldn't have been half as clear as it first seemed if his immediate reaction was reverting to Surviving Hell Tactics even when they weren't really helpful or applicable here

[goddess-of-frot]

In the midst of all this I cant help but wish there was some dedicated online community space for transfems (Please do not invite me to discord servers)

[17gz]

white guy from a country where everyone and their mom has names like John Baker and Jake Smith and Sarah Johnson and Chris Williams and Josh Brown:

its just reeeeaallyyy suspicious that your name is ahmed or mohammed :/ ummmm bot alert! scammer! yes my country is actively supplying weapons to kill palestinian people and i've donated $500 to ao3 in the past 6 months but what about my moneeeyyyy?????? anyways anyone i disagree with is part of a belgian scam ring. this is a logical step rather than viewing brown people as human beings for once in my life

[femmesandhoney]

I always find it interesting that these people completely ignore hijabi girls when they think about getting rid of female bathrooms in schools. I had many muslim friends and classmates who wore hijab and one of the only places they could adjust or take off their scarves completely or change was the girls bathrooms. Anyone who argues for unisex bathrooms and getting rid of female bathrooms always comes at it from such a male perspective and nothing makes it more obvious to me than when I think about the hijabi girls I grew up with. To me, that's an obvious "what about them". To people who literally only want to force males into female spaces with no care at all about our safety, this idea never comes up.

[marlynnofmany]

Handy Tools

For some people, an afternoon spent blasting across a desert on a hoverbike with the passenger behind them wrapping tentacles around their waist would be a charming date. For me, it was a work day, and our delivery was about to be late.

I yelled over the wind, “Am I going too fast for you?”

Mur’s voice was muffled against my shirt. “I’m just glad I don’t have to steer at these speeds. Keep going.”

I went faster. Now that I’d been officially trained on the hoverbike, I was going to enjoy every opportunity to use it. Especially since it turned out that most of my coworkers didn’t actually like seeing the scenery flash past at breakneck speeds, with the wind in their hair (or lack thereof).

Their loss. I caught some air going over a low sand dune, and allowed myself a whoop of joy. Mur didn’t hold on any tighter, but that was because he had all his other tentacles suctioned onto the bike. Nobody stays in their seat like a Strongarm who’s properly motivated. He reminded me of cats I’d known who spent trips to the vet with their claws sunk into whichever soft surface was in reach. All that was missing was the yowling.

A gust of wind buffeted us sideways, but the bike’s auto-balance function kept it upright. With a thought for how much I would have liked that kind of technology in my childhood bicycle, I steered us back on track toward the distant buildings on the edge of the desert. The plan had been for our client to come meet us at the spaceport, but something had come up on their end, and they still needed the package in a hurry. Luckily for all involved, it fit in the storage compartment of our courier ship’s speedy little hovercycle. And I was happy to deliver it at high speed to a building that the ship couldn’t land near.

Eventually we’d be weaving through city streets and I’ve have to slow down. All the more reason to make up time with the high speeds now.

But of course it couldn’t be that easy. As I crested another rise, a herd of small things on the ground swarmed toward us out of nowhere.

I swerved hard, but no luck; there were far too many to avoid. With the wind behind them, they flowed under the hoverbike and onto its lower parts, where a bunch of the round little whatevers stuck fast.

The bike coasted to a stop, despite my efforts to urge it faster. The rest of the things ghosted merrily away, looking more like inanimate objects blown by the wind than like living creatures. Dozens of them were stuck to the bike.

Mur swore loudly in his own language, a series of rippling pops that sounded like someone going to town on a bunch of birthday balloons. Which seemed pretty appropriate, actually.

“What are these?” I asked, turning off the engine. They looked like little sand-beige balloons with leaves at the bottom. Were they plants?

They were.

“A muddy problem is what they are,” Mur said, loosening his tentacles and opening the storage compartment. “Seed pods famous around here for gumming up electronics by getting stuck where they shouldn’t. You can’t just pull ‘em off; you have to pop them.”

I got to my feet, careful to keep my legs away from the things. “Are they dangerous to touch?”

Mur climbed halfway into the storage compartment, digging with his tentacles around the package. “No. Just hard to puncture. Where is the toolkit?”

I had a sudden memory of our ship’s mechanic saying something about borrowing it while I was talking to the captain about the delivery. Uh oh. “I think we left before Mimi put it back.”

With an angry tentacle slap against the bike, Mur dug faster. “There’s got to be something pointy in here. Maybe in the medkit?”

While he pulled that out and sifted through the bandages, I got a closer look at the seed pods. They reminded me of pufferfish: a little spiky, and rubbery when I poked one. Oddly enough, it didn’t stick to my finger, just the bike. Seeds rattled inside.

Further pop-swearing told me there wasn’t anything particularly sharp in the tiny medkit. Mur shut it with a snap and looked around at the desert. “See any sticks?”

I did not. “There’s probably something at the town, but that’s a bit of a walk. Are you sure we can’t just rip them open? Are they toxic to bite?”

“Definitely don’t bite them,” Mur said. “I’ve heard stories of what those seeds can do to a digestive system.”

“By hand, though?” I tried to pinch one, but it was like trying to tear open an over-inflated kickball. Thin material, just without enough give to dig my fingers in. A pushpin would have done it. I kept trying anyway. “I see what you mean.”

Mur started tugging at various parts of the hoverbike. “And of course we can’t take off a sharp metal bit without tools either. And neither of us have claws. What around here is pointy?”

“Well, I almost have claws,” I said, looking at my fingernails. “Maybe I could bite one into a point. Or actually—” The nail on my middle finger was the longest. I dug a thumbnail into the corner and ripped the end off, then handed the tiny crescent to Mur. “Is this sharp enough?”

“What’s this?” He took it in his tentacle, surprised.

“Fingernail,” I said, waggling my fingers. “Mine are soft enough to tear off pretty easily. It’ll grow back.”

Mur blinked in surprise but didn’t comment. He just grasped it firmly with his most dexterous tentacle, and popped a seedpod with it.

“Hooray!” I said as seeds rained down and the pod deflated. To my surprise, it promptly detached from the bike as well.

“We might just be on time after all.” Mur started popping with a vengeance, swarming over the bike to get everything within reach.

I sacrificed another fingernail — ring finger this time — and joined in. Between my long arms and his maneuverability, we soon had all of the troublesome things collapsing onto the sandy ground.

I wondered briefly about the biology at work; maybe the outer surface of the pods would decompose into nutrients for the seeds. But then Mur was climbing back onto the seat, and we had other things to worry about.

“I’m going to make sure that toolkit goes back where it belongs the moment we get back,” Mur said. He opened the storage compartment and dropped the fingernail inside. “Keeping these, though. Gimme the other one.”

I handed it over with a smile and got back into place while he shut the compartment. The bike started as if there had never been anything wrong. I was a bit curious about that too, but figured it was something for Mimi to figure out when he gave the bike a checkup later.

After we delivered our package, that is. I kicked it into high gear, and with Mur holding on for dear life, I blasted off across the desert once again. The wind in my hair felt great.

~~~

These are the ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book.

Shared early on Patreon! There’s even a free tier to get them on the same day as the rest of the world.

The sequel novel is in progress (and will include characters from these stories. I hadn’t thought all of them up when I wrote the first book, but they’re too much fun to leave out of the second).

[thegoodmorningman]

Good Morning!!! We need solutions not excuses!!!

[starryarchitect]

okay yeah yeah villain but the diagram is so cool you guys

Wall I made for this (featuring: Russian, Spanish, toki pona, DNA code, women's script, a few alphabets, some geometry and arithmetic, and a language that I invented, among other things. I had fun with this)

[eye-in-hand]

Americans be like "I'm affected by the war" stfu. This isn't even fucking funny how out of touch this is to say.

[yippee-optimistically]

ive seen like 2 actual episodes of the loud house but i watched no time to spy last night. they kind of cooked i cant lie

[roachemoji]

🤡 ⭐️ funny little cardigan 🌙 ❤️

maybe I'll actually dress up and style an outfit or something