Two weeks ago I made crock pot stew and decided what the heck, I’ll take the celery bottom I chopped off and try the Free Celery Hack. I put it in a small shallow bowl on the kitchen windowsill and change the water every day when I’m waiting for the water in the kettle to boil. After a few days the bits in the middle started to grow, and this week they became undeniably taller than the rest of the cut celery surface. And today?!
Free Celery Hack has not only branches on one stem, but has ACTUAL TINY LEAVES
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I think what I love about the Murderbot Diaries
(aside from, you know Murderbot who I love and cherish)
It that it’s a very grim-dark distopian corporate hellscape setting, told through the perspective of someone who has seen some of the worst that world has to offer, who’s existence is part of the worst that world has to offer, and yet-
And yet it’s so full of hope.
Everywhere you look, there’s underground shipping routes to get refugees out from contract labour, there’s universities forging documents to get abandoned colonies out from corporate ownership, there’s people buying a secunit so the company don’t realise it’s hacked itself and has free will. A Tlacy employee smuggles out copies of the files to give them back to their owners, a human officer on HaveRatton station opens the security barrier to let Ayda Mensah escape. There’s a planet that took the promise of somewhere safe to live, of food and medical care, and kept that promise for generations.
And for all it can’t even see the hope yet, can’t even really believe it might be there yet (because trauma will fuck you up), Secunit keeps being that hope for other people.
Not just the lives it saves, not just all the times it shows up out of nowhere like a social anxious guardian angel with energy weapons in it’s arms and several lifetimes worth of soap operas in it’s storage.
When it talks to Dr Volescu all the way up the side of the crater, to keep him moving. When it sticks with the scientists on RaviHyral. When Tapan sneaks onto it’s sleeping mat, because she’s scared, and it ups it’s body temperature to keep her warm. When it keeps Amena safe from a predatory partner, when it tells her to go rest. When it hacks the Comfort Unit’s governor module. When it-version-2.0 gives Three the codes to hack itself.
Imagine being on RaviHyral. Imagine meeting a security consultant who you shouldn’t be able to afford, who goes above and beyond and doesn’t even check the payment card at the end, who tells you that sometimes people do things to you that you can’t do anything about, that all you can do is learn to live with them, who’s clearly been through some shit but came out of it with so much compassion. Imagine the hope in that.
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Sick
Joel Miller x Reader
Warnings: Reader is sick, pill taking, food mention (brief), trouble sleeping.
A/N: I just wrote this because I'm currently sick AF and would like Joel Miller to look after me pls n thank. It's mostly just fluff tbh. No use of Y/N, no race or gender coding, reader is pretty much a blank slate.
700~ Words | [AO3]
You groan as you stir awake for the hundredth time tonight, pain arcing behind your eyelids as you struggle to rouse yourself. You’re freezing cold despite the warm body pressed to your back. You desperately pull the covers around you as you try and fight the chill that wracks through your body.
“Hey?” Joel whispers in your ear as you feel him pull you to him, his thin scruff scraping along the plane of your shoulder, “You ok darlin’?”
You curse yourself inwardly at the soft voice in your ear. The thickness in his voice sends a pleasant shiver through you as you wrap your arms around his strong forearm as it holds you firm against him.
“No,” you whimper feebly as you hear the cloying distortion to your voice, even with just one syllable it’s obvious you’re sick. You’d been feeling under the weather all week, but it seems it’s finally caught up to you. On a Saturday no less.
“Shh,” Joel hushes you softly as he wriggles his other arm free, you feel his strong palm press against your forehead from behind as he shifts up on the pillows behind you, “Shit, you’re burning up.”
“Could’ve fooled me,” you grumble as you let out a hacking cough as your chest burns.
“Stay here,” he says softly as he places a gentle kiss to your temple.
You whine as he slides out of bed before tucking the covers around you tightly. You grunt helplessly as he shuts the door behind him, missing his body heat already as you burrow down into the sheets. Your eyes flutter shut and your brow furrows at the pain in your skull, amplified only by the way your rattling cough seems to jostle your head.
It could have been minutes, or hours, but when Joel comes back you smile feebly up at him from the cocoon you have crafted around you. He’s a vision of tan skin and grey boxer briefs as he carries in a tray with water, cold medicine, and a few bags of your favourite snacks.
“Poor baby,” Joel coos softly as he sets down the tray on the nightstand, “Can you sit up for me?”
“Sure,” you say meekly as you shuffle yourself up into a seating position, “Thank you.”
“Don’t need to thank me,” he says as he smiles fondly at you, “But you do need to take your medicine,” he frowns playfully at you as he wags a finger in your direction. Your heart swells as you look up into his deep brown eyes as he looks you over. Worry forms in the crow’s feet around his eyes and the semi-permanent crease in his brow. Your stomach flutters and you can’t help but smile.
“Ah shit,” you groan as you realise what day it is, “The party at Maria and Tommy’s.”
“Don’t fret, I’ve already called Tommy,” Joel says as he hands you a couple of cold and flu tablets and a glass of water, “Poor bastard wasn’t even awake yet, I forgot to check the time before I called.”
Once you’ve got a secure hold on the medication and water Joel sits on the edge of the bed before dropping a broad hand to your knee. He rubs soothingly up your thigh as he watches you intently. You sigh peacefully at the ministrations of his hand as you gulp down the water and tablets.
“What time is it?” You ask as your head spins, you relax immediately as you feel Joel slide into bed beside you, sitting up as he pulls you back against his chest. You lay there, head lolled back on his shoulder as you close your eyes.
“Early,” he hums as he gently lays down, pulling you with him, “But don’t worry about that now, get some rest, I’m right here.”
“Ok,” you sigh as another cough rocks your body, prompting Joel to hold you tight against his chest.
“Love you darlin’, get some sleep.”
“Love you too,” you mutter as the lure of unconsciousness becomes too hard to ignore.
You’re not sure if it’s the cold medicine, or the way that Joel nuzzles into the crook of your neck, but you finally feel a little relief as you let out a shuddering sigh before falling into a deep sleep.
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You've no idea how goddamn happy I am about the implications that purgatory has for Fit's character. You've no clue. Here's this guy who has spent all of the years of his life that he remembers in a hostile wasteland where his one goal was always survival, and then he was taken out of that environment and given loved ones and friends and a son and became a better person. And then he's plucked right out of that comfort just as suddenly and plunged back into an extremely similar environment where he has to conserve energy to avoid starving to death and hide himself from others and chase people down and kill them, and he just does. No second thoughts, no questions asked, he hacks his axe into the head of one of his friends who was showing no signs of hostility just because she might have had food. He chases people down with the silent, focused precision of a beast on the prowl and happily walks free after catching and killing them, covered in his friends' blood. In his own words, this is FitMC of 2b2t. The actual him. He may be a better person on the surface, but he's only ever one dire situation away from becoming the him that the wasteland carved. And it's so fucking metal.
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