They don’t like you.

Any object you locate begins looking for you

Retrying these fumbled social interactions can occasionally lead to absurdly consequential butterfly effects that rock the foundations of the world around you. Every disaster stemming from a social retake is preceded by a benign itch in the back of your ear. Sometimes you just get that itch for literally no reason anyway, though.

You fall asleep easily, but you have wicked sleep apnea.

You can stop humming songs but it dials the intrusive thoughts up to 11

Good news, your light headaches have been replaced with moderate migraines.

You can postpone your hunger for 3 hours, but anything you consume within that window you permanently develop a sickness taste aversion to.

The ringing in your ear has been replaced with the Wilhelm scream.

The itching has stopped. The only price was IBS.

You have no built in shock absorption and the substance you secrete that allows you to stick to walls also gives you eczema.

In doing so you also grant the plant sentience with a mind that develops at the same pace as its physical maturity.

These plants are fully aware that

A. They have been robbed of a full life, B. They exist solely for the harvest C. They are the only ones of their kind and are alone in the vast uncaring universe beyond the prison you call a “window sill”.

They also see you planting other seeds and understand that makes you their parent. It’s a lot to process.

Oh God, the boy kisser is now canonically a bastard.