like seeds

If you want to do an adaptation of Beauty and the Beast and get rid of all toxic consent/coercion/manipulation elements in the relationship entirely, it is easily done by not making the Beast be the one imprisoning Beauty with him. 

A fairy laid a curse on him. Curses are all about Equal and Equivalent Exchanges. Her father steals a rose, which is like eating the pomegranate seeds or eating fairy food. The Beast doesn’t trap him there, the curse does. Her father cannot leave unless someone takes his place. None of this is the Beast’s doing. It just happens be at the Beast’s house, because that’s where the fucking curse is. 

Then the Beast and Beauty are just cellmates or unhappy roommates, and the slow burn romance can happen without so much in the way of unpleasant power dynamics. 

Ta da!

My friend at school is like the resident seed dealer. Because we’re all greenhouse students we’re now all obsessed with planting seeds and he always brings a bunch of seeds to school and just hands them out to people because he’s like SUPER into it and grows a lot of stuff… 

He was going on about how all this stuff was super healthy and I was sitting there like “uh huh” but thinking in my head “but can my rabbit eat it??” because literally I’ve just been feeding my herbs to my rabbit. It’s cheaper than buying greens at Walmart and he practically inhales them he loves them so much (I made sure they were all safe for bunnies). 

I ended up just taking some spinach seeds pfft. Then my Plant Science teacher gave me radish seeds (I don’t even like radishes)… so I need to buy some more pots soon. I’m just really glad that most plant stuff is relatively cheap. The pots are the most expensive things but if you stick with clay or plastic they’re not even that bad. 

My herbs, by the way, are growing WAY better now that they’re at home and not in the greenhouse at school. They’ve gotten so big. 😮

Max stops them from crossing the salt and proposes his alternative plan. Toast cottons on, and explains about the water and how it is all owned by Joe: “He calls it Aqua Cola and keeps it all for himself.”

“I don’t like him already,” says Keeper of the Seeds.

Like she hasn’t heard about Joe. Not from passing traders. Not even from the Wives.

And not from Furiosa.

I know the Dag hinted at something with “Warlord Junior” but I honestly don’t think the full truth about Joe was revealed by any of the Citadel escapees.

modern myth figures
  • fairies: pale pink bubblegum, diamond-studded tiaras, selfies always on point, screeching along to the radio, twirling around in a new dress, cheesecake, pastel orange sunrises, sunflowers, oversized sunglasses, sparkly lip gloss.
  • sirens: singing in the shower, classical music, seashell necklaces, waking up late, reading on the porch, lazy summer afternoons, sandy fingers, too much eyeliner, worn flip flops, dark blue, walking around barefoot, warm bubble baths.
  • nymphs: collecting violet wildflowers, stardusted nights, wineglasses, laughter like bells, planting seeds in a garden, long shadows, running faster than the wind, moonlight glinting off silver necklaces, fireflies, plum-colored lipstick, weaving flower crowns.

I can’t see Albus willingly walking into Madam Puddifoot’s Tea Shop, even for Scorpius, so instead I like to think he stole his brother’s invisibility cloak and whisked Scorpius away on a late night date to the lake. It included a picnic (which was 100% sweets and cakes) and stargazing, because sometimes the most magical moments require no magic at all ♥︎

And theres always my infinite love—You are a sweet person—the sweetest and dearest of all and I love you as I love my vanished youth— which is as much as a human heart can hold— filled with copper clouds like the after-math of cannon-fire, pre-war, civil-war clouds and I feel all empty and bored and very much in love with you, my dear one, my own. I wish you were here so we could stretch our legs down beside one another and feel all warm and hidden in the bed, like seeds beaten into the earth. Why is there happiness and comfort and excitement where you are and no where else in the world, and why is there a sleepy tremulo in the air when you are near that’s promising and living like a vibrating fecundity?

…excuse me for being so intellectual. I know you would prefer something nice and feminine and affectionate.

—  Zelda Fitzgerald in a letter to F. Scott Fitzgerald.
brave like a seed in the dirt
kylux, the ravines au: part 2, rated r

He has a photo on his phone. It’s of Hux in the weak, nascent sunlight, red and gold and pink and filtered through the dappled bridge of the trees over their heads, when they’d been standing by the edge of the marsh, and Ben had bitten a bruise into the underside of his jaw maybe fifteen minutes earlier, when you squinted you could see it, nestled against the fold of his black collar, because Hux had his head tilted in just the right way.

in which these two horrible co-dependent nerds get lucky. ✨

(please heed the tags)

Little Big Cute Things

Aries: The way they become little kids again when they jump up and down, getting excited about something

Taurus: The way their eyes open and get frazzled when they remember all their responsibilities 

Gemini: The way they may stumble on their words attempting and failing at delivering a good roast

Cancer: The way they attempt to not care about anything at all, but feel emotionally fractured when accidentally stepping on a bug

Leo: The way they whine and act like a toddler when they don’t get what they want 

Virgo: The way they carry themselves in an unknown environment, drifting through the environment like a dandelion seed 

Libra: The way they dance really badly when they *think* no one is watching 

Scorpio: The way they try to hide how much of a sore loser they are by asserting their competence towards everyone

Sagittarius: The way they suddenly start singing as loud as they can when their favorite song comes on, no matter how bad they may sound

Capricorn: The way they try resisting the urge to smile when they see something pretty or funny 

Aquarius:  The way their eyes drift off to an unseen universe, letting their imagination run wild

Pisces: The way they blush and their cheeks turn red when they do something embarrassing 

Garden Witch Tip

As we come into February now is the perfect time to start seedlings of cool weather plants! Keep them indoors until they sprout and then let them get as much sun as possible before they grow large enough to transplant. I recommend lettuce, kale, and broccoli. 

Get yourself some seed packets for $0.50 and buy one of these bad boys for about $3 from anywhere they sell seeds (like Walmart) and you’re done! (Also, seeds are covered by food stamps in America).

It’s a bargain-bear! They travel on the roads and sell foresty-stuff like seeds, herbs, fruits, pretty rocks, etc. All proceeds go to rebuilding the forest after The Great Fire destroyed over 60% of it. They have saplings on their heads and grow with them as reminders to everyone to be nice to nature. 🐻 🌱 ❤️

I know that, in theory, love is supposed to be soft.
I have felt soft love, before, but—
for the last two months, love has been
sledgehammer to my nervous system.
It keeps taking me out at the knees.
For the thousandth time, I remind myself
that want and need are two different things.
I remind myself,
to be needed is not love.
I kiss like a seed trying desperately
to put down roots in wet soil.
I keep trying to turn wild animal.
He keeps trying to make a home from my skeleton.
Neither of us is doing this the right way.
In spite of that, we keep crashing our bodies together:
expecting someone to catch us even when we’ve become
falling anvils,
cartoon pianos,
sticks of live dynamite.
I’ve done this song and dance before. I already know
I will let him turn me shelter
even while my roof is leaking.
I’ll put my mouth everywhere that hurts.
I’m good at it: unearthing my foundations
and giving them to other people.
It’s no wonder I have trouble standing on my own two feet.
It’s no wonder I’m so prone to slide downhill.
Even then, I still believe in a love that will meet me
at my own altar.
A love that patches the holes in the ceiling.
A love who comes, heart in hand,
and means it.
—  UNTIL THEN by Ashe Vernon

A thing about Valentine’s day that I think about every year:

What is it with all of these cut flowers?

I mean, I personally am not a huge fan of dead things, and while I like cutting flowers from my own plants to bring inside, or think they’re a nice gift from a friend if they cut them from their own plants, like…why buy them from a store?

Apparently, for a lot of people, nothing says love like something short-lived that you get to watch as it decays?

Not that I have a significant romantic person in my life right now but if/when I do, just, like…buy me a seed packet and a starter tray, or a cute little potted plant, or something. Something that will live, and that I can plant in my yard and enjoy at least until the next year, or if it’s a perennial, maybe a couple more years.

three guesses what the fuck did I get myself into

spoiler alert: yeah thats stephen colbert your eyes are fine its mines that are fucking up apparently

I blame my sempai and this twitter feed