sprouted from seed

anonymous asked:

Do you ever cry because the Het Harry discourse still exists? Like how could you ever think that this beautiful, soft and sensitive pot of sunshine is a heterosexual like.... The straights will never be THIS nice...

I just……

how…….how do people not know?

Literally just look at him



Is this how straights act in their natural habitat?

No…I’m genuinely asking.

Just staring at his bro in a completely platonic manor.

Still…..Just lads staring at lads………



A gay cherub sprouted from a dandelion seed.



Proud noodle baby!

When you spot your next sugar daddy in the crowd.

Okay, we get it, you can do blowjobs with no hands. RELAX.


Heterosexual who? I don’t think he knows her?

He sure does know how to grind on older men on television, though! 







The haft-seen table is the traditional table setting for the Persian new year Norooz. It includes seven items all beginning with the letter “seen” or “s”in Farsi.

The seven items on the table are:

1: Sabzeh (سبزه) - sprouts from different kinds of seeds mostly wheat or barley, to represent rebirth

2: Samanu (سمنو) - a sweet pudding symbolising affluence 

3: Senjed (سنجد) - dried oleaster symbolising love

4: Sir (سیر) - garlic symbolising medicine 

5: Sib (سیب)  - apples symbolising health & beauty 

6: Somaq (سماق) - somaq spice symbolising the rising sun

7: Serkheh (سرکه) - vinegar symbolising old age & patience 

other traditional items include a mirror, candles, pomegranates, painted eggs, goldfish, coins, & a copy of the Shahnahmeh written by the Persian poet Ferdowsi

Danny Phantom: Connections

Danny’s life is changed forever when an accident leaves a ghost stuck to his side. Between strange powers neither of them can control and a world Danny never knew existed, they’re going to have to learn how to get along and protect Amity Park- or die trying.

2 - Static Central

A spark shot off from the center of the portal, and the swirling changed. Something seemed to press against it, and five white nubs broke through the portal. It was fingers- a glove.

“Danny!” Not caring for a second that Danny’s gloves had been black and not white, Sam grabbed on and pulled. A figure came tumbling out of the portal, causing them both to crash to the lab floor. She was up in seconds, staring at the black jumpsuit and the white hair. “…Danny?” She nudged his shoulder and electric green eyes shot open. 

Sam screamed. 

He screamed. 

Sam screamed louder and nearly punched him in the face.




When exploring off the beaten path, its important to watch where you’re going - lest you fall into A PORTAL TO HELL!!! 

Or maybe its just a creepy old water well. 

This old well has been hidden in the woods in Collin County, Texas for a looooong time. How long? Long enough for a large Hackberry tree to sprout from a seed and grow to maturity at the edge of it. There are no signs of a house or barn (or ruins of same) nearby, which is kind of odd. Usually water wells in this part of the country are found fairly close to livestock or people shelters …. otherwise you wouldn’t need the water. Its in a fairly heavily wooded area too.

I kept an eye open for that creepy long haired girl from The Ring to come crawling out of the dark depths… but, thankfully, she never did.

That’s some @sixpenceee shit :)

I constantly see posts circulating like “solidarity won’t happen unless lesbians stop doing X!!!” or “not until bi women start doing Y!!!” but you’re all going about this completely the wrong way. 

I’m part of a women-centric LGBTQ+ discussion club at my college and it’s a pretty even mix of bi, lesbian, pan and queer ladies. Although we all have different identities that are important to us we all get along great, treasuring the weekly hour we have together, and regularly spending time together on the weekends. 

But how do we get along so great? Because we listen to each other and don’t try to downplay each other’s experience. 

  • When a lesbian girl talks about how no one in her life takes her identity seriously, the multisexual club members don’t feel the need to say “oh yeah, we have it worse”, they console her and validate her feelings
  • When our club president (who is pan) mentioned her boyfriend, no one scoffed or felt the need to talk about her privilege because we know she’s one of the most vocal lgbt activists on campus and if anyone is vulnerable its probably her
  • When one of the bi members talked about atrocious things said to her by gay and lesbian people, one of the lesbian members immediately spoke out and said “What the hell? I love bi women! That’s so messed up, if I ever hear anyone say that to you guys I will fuck them up.” 

Basically what I’m saying is that we celebrate and protect the parts of us that are different but we all bond over the fact that we love women in a romantic and/or sexual way. Its time to focus on the fact that we all love ladies, have similar experiences, and that our communities sprouted from the same seed. If we don’t look out for each other, who else will? 

Wellborne - Chapter One

Table of Contents

Previous Chapter

In the dead of night, everything changed. Though, to be truthful, “everything” did not actually change for quite some time. Rather, in the dead of night the eventual change sprouted from humble seeds, for truly that night only saw the shifting of fates for four particular individuals. Like ripples on a glassy pond, the shifting lives of those four would go on to shake the very world they lived upon.

          The First of them arrived in a small town on the River Guild under the cover of more than one darkness. First was the darkness of the night, the blanketing dim of the moon a counterpoint to the void of the sky. Second was the darkness of his armor; a full suit of plate forged from a metal blacker even than the moon. Lastly, and mostly hidden beneath his oddly radiant armor, was the darkness of his skin. He was rather fond of the style he had developed.

           The darkness cloaked him, masking him from the eyes of the guards as he slipped into the town. It did nothing to obscure the voice that guided him, but that was no problem, for the voice only ever spoke from the back of his mind. He did not notice the change that night. Just as a butcher might not notice the stink of the chopping block, he had grown accustomed to the weighty feel of the world tipping over. He paid no mind to the change, for he knew he was its harbinger.

          The Second of the four took no notice either, though not for lack of trying. It had been several long hours since the trade master had assigned her to balancing and categorizing the ledgers, and by midnight she had grown desperate for a change of pace. Anything¸ she thought, scratching away at the parchment with a rapidly-dulling quill pen, the candlelight flickering in the drafty warehouse. Anything at all could be better than this.

           It was not a conscious thought. Rather, it was the idle musing of a young woman stricken by boredom. The forces at work that night made no distinction between the two. She asked, and she would receive.

Keep reading

The Land Of Scanning

Walmart eyes, 1 a.m.
Tai Pei Boxed Orange Chicken,
organs missing, frozen storage,
hysteria hissing, why described?
tantalized planted lies
from seed sprout 
knead out pained amnesia,
anesthesia, OTC, pharmacy.

while my mother sits downstairs
crying about kicking out stepdad
while my sister sneaks out at night
should I climb the roof?
The Land of Scanning.

Downtown Charlotte,
I’ve shaved my head
so now I need go for women
around 27
who inspire sonnets
who despise they’ve aged.
Rooftops in the epicenter,
The Land of Scanning.

It is time for the Cabin in the Northwest,
to get a flight on United, cut rate, 
with steel bladed granola, flint, duct tape.
What then will my folk songs say?
With my beard returning,
my plastered face.

It is time to stay down here,
start a hemp farm,
in this parodied state,
for teens to rob
with no high,
fiber nets cast out in 
The Land of Scanning

Writers Creed Challenge (May 25th)
Josh Gaydos

Can I just give a shout out to the transition effects on the lyrics?

I mean just look at this

Flower petals scattering

Plants sprouting from seeds

Glass breaking

Wind obviously

Ripple effects

Soil again obviously

and actually I don’t know what Nemesis’ is smoke? trees? fire?

I just really really like what they did with the PV

and also is it just me or do I hear a Len vocal in the background in the chorus after Nemesis’ part?

I think he’s saying Ru Ri Ra?


Here’s what we know about golden flowers, Asriel, and Flowey from Undertale based on direct evidence from the games text and graphics.

Basically from the information given to us from the tapes and neutral ending, the first human, Chara, had tested some buttercup flowers in the butterscotch pie and ended up making Asgore ill, then Chara knew it was poisonous so they ate the buttercups as part of their plan, They were committing suicide so their soul could fuse with Asriels body to grow strong enough to pass the barrier and attack mankind. Chara asked to see the flowers of their village. Golden flowers, because they knew none of them grew in the underground. Chara knew it would give Asriel an excuse to take Chara’s dead body to the surface to the flowers in the human village, grieving, Toriel and Asgore let him go out there, a choice that haunted Toriel and made her obsessed with safety and not letting any children leave. In reality, Chara had already convinced Asriel to do this as part of a plan to kill more humans and bring back their souls to break the barrier, Chara manipulated and abused Asriel to make him stop doubting the plan and to obey. We know all this from the genocide route and true lab tapes.

We learn from the lab entries that the golden flowers had seeds that stick to you, and we also learn that a golden flower sprouted in the Kings garden when the queen left. We learn from the sink and from the sprite work that the boss monsters, which Asriel is one of, have thick fur.
When Asriel placed the body of the first human down on the flower patch in the village, he got a seed from the gold flowers stuck to him. He returns home with the humans body after being beaten, and he dies, turning to dust in the Kings garden, which would drop the seed. As we learn from the library the monsters believe spreading a dead monsters dust imbues whatever object it’s spread on with the monsters essence when their soul is destroyed. This is how the first golden flower got there in the garden, and how it gained Asriel’s essence and personality. We learn in the lab entries that Alphys injected determination into that very first Asriel-imbued flower that grew in the garden. The flower comes to life in the garden and thus Flowey is “born” and escapes.

Those golden flowers that spread everywhere are all from the seeds from that first flower that sprouted from the seed, the flower that became Flowey. Because only one flower sprouted, all the seeds from it are genetically the same, self pollinated.

Now this is the bit about Flowey that is based off what we know, but is slightly more speculation. We know Flowey has control over vines that cover the ground and grow quickly. He depressed the button for the puzzle in snowdin with his vines. He pops up everywhere and follows the player, emerging from the ground and then going back in. He uses vines to block off the exit in the true pacifist ending and to attack as Omega Flowy in that ending.
He is never shown as having legs, he never moves other than popping out of the ground at different locations, and he has vines everywhere, and at one point it is said that he “ran away”.
This is the speculation part, what if Flowey is all the flowers in the game, just spreading vines and roots under the ground everywhere,allowing him to appear and watch and listen from anywhere in the game. Every golden flower you see growing in the game, Is part of Flowey, but he can only emerge as that one original flower with the determination and essence in it, which is why when you kill that flower, his vessel is gone and the flower network goes back to just being normal.

Given what we know about Flowey and the Golden flowers, we know that it’s a plant that forms vast expanding root networks in a variety of places, with large yellow flowers with 5 large petals, although Flowey has 6 for some reason. We know the seeds stick to fur, and that it has vine like parts. No known plant has all of these characteristics, but the plant that matches the description the most would be Chrysogonum virginianum, also known as the creeping green-and-gold. Golden Flowers would be easy to spread with the sticky seeds and the large groups of golden flowers that cover the ground in thick vine mats to prevent any other plant competition from growing near it.  Toriel even brings some of these seeds and plants them at Chara’s grave when she brings their body from the New Home to the Ruins for a proper burial. It’s these flowers that break your fall at the start of the game. Flowey is still using a colony of  flowers, a single organism spread throughout the land, as a vessel. He may be a determination and monster essence warped flower, but he is still a flower. A flower than grew fertilized by his own dust, that spread and connected via vines, stolons, and roots throughout the Underground with no native predators and no plants evolved to compete with.  A flower that had its seeds planted at the grave and fertilized by the body of his best friend and adopted sibling. A flower that grew and spread to the point it was able to soften Frisk’s fall so they were not injured.

   *edited from my first post on this blog

In the Wake of Sunbeams | ch3 |

Summary: Through thick and thin, siblings look out for each other. After all, adventures and mishaps are best when shared. (oneshots for Sunshine Siblings Week)

Title/Prompt: Gardening
Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3
AN: For some reason, writing this reminded me of this McDonald’s sign that we’d always pass which said ‘Over 99 billion served’ and for the longest time when I was young and had poor, uncorrected eyesight (and even poorer reading comprehension apparently), I thought it said ‘Over 99 balloons saved’. Hah, alas. Well, I think anyone who knows me in the slightest recognized that I would go straight for the gardening prompt. I can’t deny that writing this was incredibly fun and just what I needed, so I’m rather happy with how this turned out, which is a first in a very long while. Likely the last prompt I’ll be able to submit on time (still planning to write them all though!) since school has started again and I can no longer overestimate how long I can stay awake and still function. Happy reading!
(Also on ff.net)

It is peaceful in the backyard, in the garden, the kind of calm that makes one boneless, the kind that settles and tucks over like the softest of blankets. Wind chimes sing a quiet lullaby, light and enchanting, courtesy of playful breezes that come around to whisper in their ears and kiss their cheeks before dashing off again. Sunlight, rich and warm, spills across the grass and lights the flowers until they become a bouquet of colours, bright and stunning. The day is light and clear with blue skies and puffy white clouds the size of mountains, the sort of day that makes the heart ache with the knowledge that such a perfect moment cannot last forever.

Underneath the dappled shade of the apple tree, Naruto sits back and sighs, allowing the sweet and heady fragrance of dirt and grass and ripening apples to calm and relax his mind. He sets his gardening gloves and spade carefully next to him and stretches his long legs out, mimicking the thick roots that rise above and dip beneath the ground like waves reaching out towards the house before completely relaxing, his limbs utterly at ease. He shuts his eyes and feels the spots of light that peek through the leaves of the tree and that glide across the ground and across his form, warm on his skin and as light as a kiss.

A hum rises from the back of his throat as an actual kiss, soft and gentle and touched by the scent of lavender, presses against the whiskers on his cheek. He grins slowly, lazily, and his eyes flicker open to take in the sight of his wife, her indigo hair glowing violet at the edges from the sun and her lavender eyes creased in a happiness, a smile dancing on her lips.

Keep reading

I am strong as a tree trunk.
You can shake me, break me; but I will stand my ground.
You can cut my branches, but you can’t knock me down.
I am made of the same atoms that lived in the big bang;
Stars that exploded into supernovas
Reside in my bloodstream, incandescent as a sunbeam.

I have space dust in my veins, and stars in my skin.
The freckles in my complexion shining within,
Are waiting to burst and break free,
To help me shine like the dazzling star that I’m meant to be.
I am like a flower, blossoming into beauty,
Sprouted from a seed.
I am continually growing, constantly changing;
But my core roots, I will always heed.

I am a radiant rainbow;
Iridescent and illuminating;
Filled with rays of chromatic color,
Like those that give sunsets their allure.
I am Starstuff.
And I am

—  astral-aboriginal, An Ode to Myself, or My YOUniverse


This phone conversation seems like a jokey prod at Flowey’s existence, but tiny lines tend to mean things we don’t expect in this kind of game. So…

>We learn here that the flowers (which originally sprouted from the seeds stuck to Asriel in Asgore’s garden) spread all over the underground, seeming to have “a mind of their own.” We also generally theorize that Chara’s essence is with Frisk, right? Not their SOUL, since that’s long gone, but their essence. But if Chara’s SOUL broke in the garden with Asriel, how did their vague consciousness get all the way back to where Frisk fell?

>Theory: Asriel awoke with the determination in the first flower that sprouted… but Chara’s soul essence/dust spread further. It was across multiple flowers, and the flowers spread, sending Chara all around. When Frisk first fell onto a bed of golden flowers, Chara’s essence was part of those flowers. Finally having found a suitable human vessel, the dust/essence somehow got into Frisk, and that’s why you have Chara’s narration (at least in the merciless run?).

>Also, the second time you hit a bed of flowers (in the trash dump), maybe you get an extra dose of the essence, which is what triggers Frisk experiencing Chara’s memory while they’re unconscious.

tl;dr Chara’s essence is spread all over the underground by the spread of golden flowers (instead of all concentrated in one flower like Flowey) so when Frisk hit the bed of golden flowers, they got Chara’s dust/essence on them and Chara latched on to their determination. And that’s why Chara is supposedly the narrator, at least in merciless runs.



A/N: this is more towards the boys than it is towards the reader but it’s also a motivation speech of some sort (?) so it will sound more of a spoken word poem than it is an imagine and will somewhat sound like a fairy godmother gifting her godchild a gift. Hope you’ll enjoy it nonetheless!

Originally posted by mukenope


your brown eyes are dark, and mysterious, but look closely, and hidden are the sunsets and sunrises that warm the earth with its rays. they rise, and they fall, and they will always go full circle and complete the cycle. they are the creatures lurking in the corners of our bedroom, and they are the smoke after violence had struck hard, dust and darkness filling our insides. you are the shade beneath a tree, the darkness of a story after death was mentioned, but you are also the blanket of night that cover the heat of the sun’s rays, comforting us, allowing us to see the lights and watch time pass. your dark irises, they may be black, and may seem like it is an empty black hole that light may never escape, but light will hit it and it will shine, much like freshly polished wood, and they will twinkle. your eyes hide the constellations Plato nor Van Gogh could piece together, stringing the whole universe in your inky irises, and it is much like space; dark, unknown to the naked eye, and yet we are fascinated by its darkness and its secrets, and your eyes, my love, they are the galaxies far and underlit for us to see, but the secrets that hide in its shadows create a beauty too complex for us to comprehend.


your hazel eyes are contradicting, a mixed palette of lights and darks, pastels and solids. they are the sun high in the afternoon sky, right after the families have woken up and are preparing noon picnics, and you warm the grass they sit on with your bright colors. your eyes are lightning storms- illuminated but dark, and they bring comfort, but to some, you are dangerous, an electric tingle too harsh to feel. your eyes are the aftermath of a rainstorm, with its cloudy insides but shining outsides, a rainbow left in its chaotic wake. you are the warm coffee that we brew every morning to wake our resting minds, and you are the dust that surround our homes, taking shelter in our unused books and behind our furniture. your eyes are the beacons of hope when the only source of light in our bedrooms is the moonlight and your eyes are looking down at ours in protection. they are the rings hiding inside a freshly cut tree, ages and ages of stories and memories, and they will stay that way for as long as you live; but your irises are clouded by unspoken confessions, clouded by a shroud of doubt, and it is untimely, the way your eyes lose its gleam, but it will come back, and then, maybe then, sweet child, will you not regret as your eyes, they may be dark, but around the darkness, there will always be light.


your green eyes are the jewels lost in a robbery, and they seem innocent, but deadly. they are the scales on a dragon, too fiery to hold, and they are the venom of a snake, quick to strike. they are the dewy fresh cut grass of spring, and the newly born flowers dug up from winter, and the tree leaves swaying in the wind in the heat of summer. your eyes are the freshly cut jade from China, made into glass and vase, into ornamental jewelry made solely for the emperor. you are the delicate colors sewed onto satin robes, intricate patterns spun in your existence, as you are buried deep in the earth itself. you are the land we walk on, the plants we grow, and your eyes- they hold the meteors and the comets that created our world. they have seen extinction, and fires, and droughts, acid rains, but they have also seen rebirth, and evolution. they have seen the first steps of a child, and they have seen even the oldest oak tree sprout from its seeds. you are the land, dear angel, and your eyes, they are one with the world, and they shall always shine bright for you, for they have seen miracles and desperation, as shall you.


your blue eyes are the oceans, the ponds, the lakes that quench our dry throats. they are the tsunamis that wash away our work, and they are the storms that break down our homes, but they will always be safe. your eyes are the glimmer in the water when the sunlight hits them, just as the waves kiss the shore as they always have. your eyes are the sapphires and diamonds many strive to steal, but they can never be robbed from you. they are the stars in a dark room, for their translucent luminosity will always act as headlights for those traveling down a winded road. they are the drops of water left on a petal after a sprinkle, glistening just when the perfect ray of sunlight hits the right spot. your eyes hold the sky; even on a cloudy day, you are still bright, looming over us like a guardian angel. they fascinate the children, as your blue slowly fades into gradients of reds and pinks and oranges just as the sun hides behind the far horizon, but you’re never really gone. your eyes have seen the depths of the ocean, farther than any submarine could go, and they have searched every crevice in every trench and they have no need to come up for air, but they are wet. your eyes are drooling in a state of pain and breathlessness, and perhaps there is no way to dry them, but they will always be shining, oh precious, and as the ocean goes, the blue shall go, too.

well there’s that. hopefully, this both cheered you up and made up for a delayed rich boy part 2 :)


Osiris Mummy (Grain Mummy) Egypt, ca. 332 BC - 395 AD Linen wrappings, polychrome case. 

This form does not contain animal remains, but has been decorated as a falcon to symbolize the gods Horus (in life) and Osiris (in death). Called a “corn” or “grain” mummy, the wrappings contain emmer wheat, a popular staple. These mummies were placed in tombs with the deceased and invoked the gods to aid the resurrection process. Cereal grains were symbols of life and rebirth as the dormant seed sprouted from the dead husk.

Everhart Museum Collection.