weed is from the earth

A Talisman for Good Luck

What you’ll need: 

  • Gardenia Seeds (For Good Luck)
  • Poppy Seeds (For Success: Strengthen the talisman)
  • Clovers (For Good Luck)
  • Crushed Acorn (For Good Luck)
  • A few drops of moon water (Strengthen the talisman)
  • A small bottle that you can carry in your pocket or purse (Make sure it has a cork)

What to do:

  1. Put everything into the bottle, obviously. 
  2. Recite this as you do step one: Seeds and weeds of Earth, and water from its lakes, help me now to have good luck to take.

She is

bold, brave,

fiercely uprooting

a small man, and his,

unwelcome advances

with her unabating voice.

And she will not be silenced.

Rip this weed from the Earth!

Remove the ground

beneath his shaken soul;

Dependent upon the soil, on which,

he once stood, solid.

Ladies of Hollywood, uproot him:

Say his name.

Say his name.

Say his name.

needed you.

one-shot: fremione

word count: 1461

harry birthday, anina! ♡ (june 17th, 2017)

the sundown series. night four.

“why did you leave me?”

she asks in a worried tone, her mary janes scuffed and muddied from running in the fields. he has a sheepish grin on his face, his cheeks reddening. behind his back are some hand-picked flowers and a few overgrown weeds, straight from the earth.

“george isn’t as fun as you,” she says, a blush rising to her ears as she looks at her feet. “i like you more.”

“hermione, you’re adorable.” he ruffles her hair. “for you,” he says, and her eyes light up in delight as she takes the flowers from his hands.

“oh. that’s where you were. i’m sorry for doubting you.”

“that’s okay. i will never leave you.”

“why did you leave me?”

he asks, a frown on his face as he sits on a bench, beneath the night sky.

“ron and harry needed my help,” she says, and she holds out a box overflowing with delicious food. “forgive me. i got you something while i was inside.” she smiles as she sees a grin spreading across his lips.

“and you promise that i’m your favourite after ron and harry?” fred teases, lighthearted.

“yes,” hermione laughs.

“ok, and before george, right?”

“don’t worry,” she smiles, leaning in. her eyes catch the sparkle in the moonlight. “i like you the most.”

“i’m sorry for doubting you.”

“that’s okay,” she laughs. “i will never leave you.”

“why did you leave me?”

she asks, her breath caught in anger and fear. “you could have been hurt!”

“hermione, i’m older than you. i can handle myself.”

“but fred,” she says. “look.” she gestures at the chaos around them, spells flying and wizards casting left and right. “it’s dangerous.”

“it’s not the first time i’ve fought in a battle, hermione. you need to trust me.

“i do. i just don’t want you to get hurt.”

he wraps his arms around her small frame, giving her a gentle kiss on the head. she fits in perfectly, like a missing puzzle piece he’s had in his pocket all along.

“i know. but you need to trust that i can handle myself. we’re both brilliant wizards, aren’t we?”

“we are… i’m sorry for doubting you.”

“that’s okay,” he assures her. “i’ll never leave you.”

“why did you leave me?”

he asks, and he runs towards hermione and embraces her. “i told you to stay where you were!” tears streak down his face as he holds her tightly. he rocks her, slowly but surely, trying to make sure of himself that she’s still alive.

“they needed me,” she says, and she clutches his robes like it’s a lifeline.

“who? who needed you? i want you to be safe, hermione.”

“harry. ron. they all needed me. everyone.”

“you can’t throw yourself in danger like that, you could die.

you think that i don’t know that?” hermione erupts, and the strong facade she held onto before just falls as she launches closer into fred’s arms. “i know every single day that i could die, and leave you behind,” she says.

they walk together and sit in a secluded spot, away from all the violence and the blood. she finds her way comfortably in his lap, cuddling deep inside his arms and into the warmth she couldn’t find anywhere else.

“will you miss me when i’m gone?” she whispers into his chest, and her arms snake around his waist in attempt to hold him closer.

“you’re not going anywhere,” he says. “you have a whole life laid out in front of you. with me,” he assures her, soothing, running his fingers through her hair and wiping away the trail of tears down her cheek with his thumb. “we’ll fight through this. i swear.”

and in that instant, a deadly spell was cast and they hear screams echoing throughout the great hall.

“do you promise?”

“yeah. i do.”

“promise me, fred,” hermione whispers, and she reaches to touch his face; his eyes, his nose, his mouth. her gaze lingers on his lips and she pulls him in to kiss him softly, full of love and tenderness.

“i promise,” fred says, breathlessly.

“i’ll come back. i will always be there for you, but i need to go. now.” she says, after a yell of despair she swear is neville’s. “they need me.”

“go on now. i’m sorry i doubted you.”

“that’s okay. i’ll never leave you.” she turns her heel and walks into the catastrophe.

“you weren’t supposed to leave me.”

she says, the fight behind her finally finished, but this battle before her will forever be a mess. he’s still breathing, she tells herself. his heart is still beating and his hand is still holding hers. loosely, but still. they are together.

“you promised we would fight together.”

she brings his hand towards her lips, leaving a fluttering kiss on each finger and a hope of survival.

“if you love me, you’ll stay, won’t you?”

she asks, another hand resting on his chest, then stroking his face, trying to remember what he looked like with the flowers behind his back and a twinkle in his eye.

“look what happened to you. i told you to stay,” she laughs harshly, a hitch in her throat as a hiccup leaves her mouth, tears beginning to fall from her eyes and leaving marks on the bloodied ground.

“you say i’m always right, but you never listen, don’t you?” she says, a knot in her stomach and she can’t feel a thing. no emotions, no physical aspect of anything in front of her. the ache in her chest creates short breathes and she wants to feel happy, be happy because the war is over and everyone can go on with their lives again.

but she can’t.

because she would run through the world with flaming torches and set the planet on fire if it meant for fred to come back.

“stay,” she says. “stay, stay, stay, stay.” each time, it grows more urgent with a new wave of desperation settling into her skin and the cruel face of reality finally coming to light.

“don’t go,” she murmurs, holding him close.

the looks on the weasley members are heartbreaking, reeling with sadness for another piece of family, but also mourning for what kind of future he could have had.

another future that fred and hermione could have established, gone and forever lost. the dreams and the hopes and the puzzles laid in front of them will now forever be incomplete because one piece of the puzzle is now lost. gone. and will never come back.

FRED!” hermione’s voice broke, and the sobs came and then the anger.

you have to come back.

“we still have so much more to do.”

“you can teach me more of your pranks.”

“we have so much more time to do anything we wanted.”

hermione laughs softly. “we can even take over the world if you wanted to.”

“i’m sorry.”

“i’m sorry i couldn’t save you.”

i’m sorry.

the tears stream freely down her face, and she tastes the salt through her lips. she presses a hand to his heart, one more time.

and there isn’t a beat.

NO,” she screams, and a clench of pain shoots through her lungs and all of a sudden she can’t breathe. she gasps for air, and then the memories of her and fred come rushing back.

hermione rolling her eyes at fred’s attempt to ask her out, rejecting him three times before she finally said yes. he brought her to a muggle amusement park, where she had the most fun in a long while. she came back to hogwarts with a stuffed animal as big as she.

fred holding her hand during dinner in the great hall, while the rest of their friends were swooning and whistling. fred only looked at her. he looked at her like the universe was in her eyes.

hermione and fred beneath the bright stars, a night after he convinced her to sneak out of the school. they sat together under one blanket, holding each other close.

“i know you love me,” hermione says, a last brush of a hand through fred’s flaming red hair, a last touch of his lips.

“and i should have loved you sooner.”

the words barely escape her lips, but they do.

“i’m sorry i doubted you. i’m sorry i doubted your love.”

“i think i’ll be okay.”

“i’ll never leave you.”

and hours later, they had to drag hermione’s body away from fred’s, her hands trembling like she was eleven again, trying to search for fred in the forest, while he was innocently picking flowers for her.

wait for me fred, i’ll find you.

Mr. Laufeyson's Ward

TITLE: Mr. Laufeyson’s Ward


AUTHOR: goddessofmischief

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine you are living in the late 1800’s and your parents pass away due to a tragic accident. Leaving you an orphan, you are sent to a miserable orphanage. Then, a mysterious and harsh man named Loki visits the orphanage and takes you on as his ward. He brings you to his crumbling mansion in the English countryside, where you face his cruel intentions, and eventually discover that you care for him much more than you’d like to admit. 


NOTES: Hello all. Thanks so much for your patience, I know this chapter is long overdue. It’s quite short in comparison to the past chapters, but I still hope you enjoy it. Now that school is over for me I hope to write & update more regularly. 

The following day, just after lunch, Mr. Laufeyson and I were walking together on the moors surrounding Heathcote. It had initially felt unusual to spend so much time with him, and to not have as much alone time as I was used to having. Ever since the previous afternoon we had shared every meal together and I was in his company for the remainder of the day.
Nevertheless, I enjoyed his companionship, and especially the intellectual conversations that we shared. Besides Elsie, there had been nobody else in which I could talk openly about the subjects that interested me most. From classic literature to medieval history, Mr. Laufeyson was quite informed about it all. I highly esteemed his intelligence, and eagerness, about such subjects.

Keep reading

Too Much

Request: Could you make a Daryl x reader imagine where the reader has anxiety but she didn’t told anyone in the group because she was ashamed about it and one day in Alexandria she has a really bad panic attack and no one knows what’s going on?


     The air surrounding you was filled with suffocating humidity and smelled of the undead.  Sweat was plastered to your body, mirroring the rest of Alexandrians as they went about their everyday business.  The sun was beating down relentlessly on your aching shoulders as you yanked weeds from the earth. The sweltering heat caused your breathing to be labored, in turn making your heart race like a stallion. 

     “Hey Y/N!” 

     You turned to see Carol approaching you.  However, the closer she got, the more her smile wavered and frown lines were evident upon her features.

     “Dear, are you okay? Let me take over for you while you go and get rest.” You didn’t even bother to object; you felt like you were collapsing from the inside.  As that familiar feeling rose in your stomach, you knew what was happening.  You were having the pretenses of an anxiety attack. Soon enough, tears began to leave trails of saltwater down your cheeks.

     You turned your brisk walk to an urgent jog, wanting to get away from prying eyes you could feel burning holes into your back.  Suddenly, a body stepped in front of your pathway to your shared house. You tried to move around them muttering a quiet but distressed “Excuse me.” But they stood their ground.

     It was your fearless hunter who stared down at you with concern glossing over his icy eyes. He eyed your current state and worry visibly overtook his body as he held you at arms length to make sure there were no physical marks adorning your shaky frame.

     “Y/N, what happened? Did someone hurt ya? Darlin’ tell me.” he pleaded, desperation lacing his tone as he wrapped his arms around your figure, only for you to tense up when that feeling bubbled over, taking over your body as it reached it’s peak.

     You went limp, hyperventilating and crying in your boyfriend’s arms. No matter how hard you tried, your breathing wouldn’t cooperate with your brain telling it to be steady.  

     Daryl was scared. He didn’t have a clue to what was happening to his lover and felt so helpless in this situation.  He did the only thing he could think.

     He sat down on the ground and cradled your body with shaking hands, whispering reassurance into your ear while placing light kisses on your forehead.  After what felt like an hour, you finally calmed down to the point where aftershocks still racked your body but you managed to control your breaths.  

     Daryl looked around and saw everyone looking on in curiosity, and he knew it might set you off again so he sent a glare that could stop any man in his place saying to stay a safe distance if they wanted to live. The onlookers paled and turned back to their chores, pretending that you weren’t collapsed in the arms of the archer.

     “I think I can get up,” you whispered as Daryl’s eyes met yours. He wasn’t convinced, though.  The hunter stood and carried you bridal style to your home, ignoring your feeble protests that you were fine.

     Your boyfriend continued to transport you up the wooden stairs and to your guys’ bedroom.  He gently laid you on the comforter and gathered you into his embrace after settling next to you. You clung to his shirt while his thumb caressed your tear-stained cheekbone.

     “It was an anxiety attack,” you said after minutes of silence. “I used to have them before… before everything.  I haven’t had one in a while but I guess the heat triggered some bad memory. I’m sorry.” 

     “Don’ apologize for somethin’ you can’t control. You shoulda told me you got them. Let me help you with things like this. Don’t go through that alone.” Daryl said in a low voice as he tucked a stray hair behind your ear. “I love you.”

      “I love you too.”  You felt free of worries, a warm feeling spreading through you as Daryl kept you protected in his arms

The place was an ancient cemetery; so ancient that I trembled at the manifold signs of immemorial years. It was in a deep, damp hollow, overgrown with rank grass, moss, and curious creeping weeds, and filled with a vague stench which my idle fancy associated absurdly with rotting stone. On every hand were signs of neglect and decrepitude, and I seemed haunted by the notion that Warren and I were the first living creatures to invade a lethal silence for centuries. Over the valley’s rim a wan, waning crescent moon peered through the noisome vapours that seemed to emanate from unheard-of catacombs, and by its feeble, wavering beams I could distinguish a repellent array of antique slabs, urns, cenotaphs, and mausolean façades; all crumbling, moss-grown, and moisture-stained, and partly concealed by the gross luxuriance of the unhealthy vegetation. My first vivid impression of my own presence in this terrible necropolis concerns the act of pausing with Warren before a certain half-obliterated seplchre, and of throwing down some burdens we seemed to have been carrying. I now observed that I had with me an electric lantern and two spades, whilst my companion was supplied with a similar lantern and a portable telephone outfit. No word was uttered, for the spot and the task seemed known to us; and without delay we seized our spades and commenced to clear away the grass, weeds, and drifted earth from the flat, archaic mortuary. After uncovering the entire surface, which consisted of three immense granite slabs, we stepped back some distance to survey the charnel scene; and Warren appeared to make some mental calculations. Then he returned to the sepulchre, and using his spade as a lever, sought to pry up the slab lying nearest to a stony ruin which may have been a monument in its day. He did not succeed, and motioned to me to come to his assistance. Finally our combined strength loosened the stone, which we raised and tipped to one side.

The Statement of Randolph Carter - H. P. Lovecraft (1919)


In that moment, I became connected to the green life of the Earth. Trees, flowers, weeds, crops… from the most ancient to the most humble… they spoke to me. And when I spoke to them, they listened… and answered my call. I gained other powers. Immunity to poisons and viruses. Innate control of pheromones. I lost myself for a time, immersed in an emerald dream. i was pulled back by a driving purpose. To protect. To save. I am Poison Ivy.

Things To Do in Softer Months (Poem for Body)

Shed ten layers of skin.
Buy three goats and drink
eight dollar wine in a field
of orange trees. Love the hill
of my waist, the geometry
of this body, angles soft. 
Pull my wisdom teeth to tuck
in jewelry boxes. Give birth to
my sisters, to myself, to flecked
doves, thigh-wide, hips broad
as a shoulder of mountain. Rip 
white-root weeds from the ground
until the earth  is as brown and clean
as my skin. Bruise my knuckles.
Bruise my palms. Bruise the sides
of my elbows. This body
is light, is no longer an open 
wound, is no longer a closed
door. This body is light, 
through a kitchen window, pink 
sunrise, electric air. 

anonymous asked:

I think all the anon meant was that smoking drugs is dangerous. Some people die. Promoting it to be a brilliant relaxer is not always a good thing. I don't think they meant to offend, neither do I :) I like your blog lots and it saddens me to think you have to turn to drugs for happiness, that's all :( you deserve better than that. Take care of yourself xx

Give me the name of ONE person who has died from smoking weed and I’ll stop blogging. Because ever since the earth started spinning, no one has died from smoking weed.. So I’ll wait..

I really believe weed and shrooms are gifts from the earth to connect to the universe and the stars. I feel like they are opportunities to a deeper understanding. Also I think boys are a waste of time. Nothing good comes. (goodnight)

a rather silly Thommy LotR AU as a belated (as always^^) birthday present for the lovely irrationalgame <3

Since I knew she loves AUs I took at look at the list of her fandoms in her blog description and when I got to “Lord of the Rings” I though: Oh, I´d love to draw Thomas as an elf… a smoking elf…who probably buys and sells weed from the Shire on the Middle Earth black market ;P And Jimmy could also be there and play the harp… And couldn´t let the idea go and this is finally the result ;)

Happy (belated) birthday!!!  ♥ ♥ ♥ I hope you like it!

Jack in the Box

Arjan considered the hill at the end of the wooded valley, and wondered if he was going to die this day. 

The hill was irregular and topped with some scraggly metal ruins. The ruins themselves were alien, but unremarkable. Most of this world had been covered in similar ones, when the colony ship had arrived. Much still was.

The ruins were stanzas of an epic tragedy written across the planet’s very soil: mile after mile of devastated cityscape, overgrown, weed-choked, blasted and desolate. When Arjan’s grandfather had set out from Earth, frozen in hypersleep, this planet had barely developed steam power. By the time they arrived, centuries later, the creatures who built this civilization were long gone, victims of a catastrophe Arjan’s colleagues at the University were only just beginning to understand.

Now, the colony was expanding. And expansion meant roads. And this is where the hill came in: it was in the way. It blocked the proposed Leotis-Kola high-speed route.

Except it wasn’t a hill, at all. Arjan’s surveys discovered the ruins on top were just part of a very complicated structure underneath. It was dense metal, quite probably some sort of machine. It seemed to have eight legs and a thick armor carapace. It must have been some sort of octopedal tank. Somehow it had been half-buried here when the cataclysm overtook this world, and lain silent for centuries.

It couldn’t possibly still be active, Arjan thought, as the engineers’ lasers began to cut.