#petunia spacely

[homefryboy]

fuck orbitty all my homies hate orbitty

(commissions open)

[thespaceyace]

and with Vogue, the wheel officially comes to an end! thank you all so much for joining me on this project! stick around because a poster for the League is on its way! 💕🍅

[angel-blitz]

"You smell like flowers~!"

"You smell like cupcakes~!"

[lessnowon]

anyways, i'm just dropping by to say fuck jk rowling and that snape being romantically in love with lily is really stupid when it would be more narratively and thematically consistent (and, frankly, more compelling) if his love for her was familial

[dougielombax]

Space whales.

[number1liftyandshiftyfan]

requesting more petunia x shifty plz

This was the perfect excuse for me to draw out this idea I had 🥹

she’s washing him cause he smells like garbage 🙄 (he doesn’t mind)

[splendontcore]

I will post full art this weekend I swear (lying, because i have too much homework to do)

[fictionalred-photos]

[incorrectquoteslooneytuneslatino]

Lola: (contestando la videollamada) Hola Tina.

Tina: (en la videollamada) ¡No puede ser! ¡Les di un sólo trabajo!

Lola y Petunia: ¿?

Tina: ¡Que vigilarán a Lucas! ¡¿Eso es duro?!

Lola: Creímos que te referías a no dejarlo cruzar sí había tráfico.

Petunia: Y eso sólo lo hizo una vez.

Tina: ¡¿Por qué no me lo comentaron lo de Melissa?!

Petunia: No queríamos preocuparte.

Tina: ¿Tendría que estarlo?

Lola: ¡Ay, por favor! ¡Es Lucas! Es imposible que algo pasara.

Tina: ¡Eso me dijeron cuándo comencé a salir con él! ¡Pero 5 años después! ¡Pum! ¡Bam! ¡Algo había pasado!

Petunia: Si, pero tú volverás en 3 meses.

Tina: Ah… No lo entiendes. Llevo mucho tiempo golpeando esa botella de ketchup. ¡Y ahora ella le quitará la tapa y le pondrá a sus papas.

Fuente: La teoría del Big Bang (2007 ~ 2019)

[bunnyjoyce-blog]

[hptheboywholived]

This Deleted Scene Would Have Changed Harry Potter & The Deathly Hallows | Nerdstalgic

Often When a Director Leaves a Scene on the Cutting Room Floor, it's for a Good Reason. Though when David Yates was Finishing Harry Potter & the 2 part Deathly Hallows Installments, a Deleted Scene Could Have Added a World of Closure to His life @ Number 4 Privet Drive. When Leaving his Childhood Home in the Film, it all Seems Very Quick & Emotionless. But With Just a Few Minutes of Deleted Dialogue Added Back in, it Could Have Given Audiences the Closure He Needed From the Dursley's & his Childhood Home.

[angel-blitz]

Prompt from Twitter "draw your comfort characters like this" (og under cut)

[fukashiin]

attractive things they do #2 !

— w. housewardens

⤷ "yuutapdatass tweeted: malleus pls stop dming me to rub our feet together as a nightly custom"

cw: hinted suggestive content for malleus, vil and leona. passive reader! enjoy ♡

RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS

shushing others so you can focus.

pens and textbooks alike cluster along your designated study table, accompanied by the riddle rosehearts as his knee brushes against yours wordlessly. he's utilising this free period, toiling out and about to aid you in your, regretfully, pointless revision. finals season starts to get rigid around this time, so he's more than content to lend a hand if you're willing to put in the effort. except—the students abounded at the table diagonal to yours start getting chattier than what's socially allowed in the library, so riddle calls them out without a pain. one "they're trying to focus." and their mouths are zipped. he turns back to you, unperturbed, and smiles. "shall we continue?"

SO patient with you it makes you cry.

riddle may be a bomb of ire waiting to burst at any given moment, but you believe that his patience shouldn't go uncredited. a tireless awardee, a distinguished laureate, going sleepy in your eyes, although he's wrestling to win over the urge just so you can get the hand of the concept he's cramming into your head last-minute. the scent of white petunias could really alleviate his fatigue, and you make a promise to bring over a few of those in favour for his devoutness to your study sessions. for the time being, he'll make sure you pass, for him, and for yourself.

vows that he'll outdo your stupid ex in every way.

whatever your ex did wrong, riddle will do better. that's just in his nature. he swears with each and every fibre of his body, nuzzling his head in the dip of your shoulder, that he'll love you in ways that your morose ex never bothered to think about. a muttered pledge that couldn't compare to the pious burn that lit in his eyes, like a withstanding candle refusing to go out. his confessions are firm, where he'll be the betterment that you wished for on an astral night, so please, don't put him in your doubt.

LEONA KINGSCHOLAR

pressing you against the nearest wall he spots to kiss you.

there are numerous attributes to this man that renders you hopelessly drunk in love. one of them is his maddening habit of pressing you flushed against the nearest surface in his sight, and the most poorly lit areas when you're in stranded in a public space to guise the both of you. he executes this with the softest hint of care, ensuring that the landing wasn't too harsh, and advancing when given the green light. wispy strands of hair stroke your skin like a feather, as fine lips come crashing down to yours in a heartbeat, in paradise. he gives you a sheer once-over, bringing up the following statement: "grab onto my vest if you need to."

breathes the confidence into you.

downgrading oneself may be in his dictionary, but it won't appear in yours. he'll clasp any opportunity to brandish his infamous eye-roll to those whose comments about you stray a bit too loud. you may be a bit thrown off by the audacity and aimlessly think about the ways of which you could live up to his—your standards. you take a bit to reorient yourself when you hear your name being called out, sluggish hands circling your waist, as you're unable to finish your thought about how beautiful he is until he asks whether you're actually sparing a single thought for those nobodies. he casually states that you're leagues better than them, whether you think so or not, and won't mind giving you a physical demonstration if you can't bring yourself to accept it yet, because he knows it.

just knows what you want without you having to tell him.

eyeing an accoutrement that could accent your main outfit? longing for a new stand-alone book after the last one you buried yourself in was a letdown? leona has the prices covered. despite your incessant denial, that you don't actually need those, he tells you that a little spending wouldn't hurt. he doesn't need verbal expression to know what'll satisfy you, the flit of your gaze is the only opening he requires. you're embarrassed by how easily you're read, but the hearty smile that blooms on your face will be all the excuses leona needs to keep spoiling you.

AZUL ASHENGROTTO

drapes his coat over your legs if you're cold.

sometimes, you swear that he has the whole "affection capability" of a wooden plank. his actions aren't entirely faultless, nor was there not a single second of err in the delivery of his speeches, but he does haul around that handy coat solely for moments like these. perched wordlessly on top of mostro lounge's signature high stools, azul rebukes your rash behaviour after spurting out in the rain without an umbrella, clothes weatherworn and all—not to mention the lounge's benevolent addition of its AC. the chills rack your body from head to toe, not noticing that a fuzzy warmth starts to blanket your legs, as azul pats it down creaseless. he says that you can pay him in return at a later date, your declining health is his utmost priority at the moment.

sets you straight when you need it.

his prized coin collection seems to blur boorishly, bleeding into the soft jazz playing in the back. the thirsting need to word-vomit all over the place, thanks to the hours of ennui you've been experiencing ever since you've trudged yourself back to azul's room, threatens to tip over the edge. he notes your irresolute responses to his (nearly) bombarding questions while he's planted over at his desk, and takes the initiative to make you open up to him. he wants you to look at him, commit his words to memory, as he caresses your shoulder under the twinkling lavender glow of his night lamp with a sure look in his eyes, guaranteeing that you're going to do fine.

has a secret album dedicated to pictures of you in his gallery.

azul tries to get accustomed to the revolutionising tricks of technology just for you. fine, if he has to pass through every single hyperlink and learn unfamiliar terms, that's on him. other than owning a booming magicam account promoting #mostrolounge, he saves a single, peculiar file in his gallery that hoards all the pictures he's taken of you when you're together, on a date or not. he can't tell if your lovely visage is the sole cause to the rapid change of pace in his heart when he's dealing with a mounting workload, but if you ever drag yourself down after taking a quick glance at them, he'll bring you right back up.

KALIM-AL-ASIM

clears the hair out of your face when its windy.

you may be a tad bit hesitant to ride the magic carpet every once in a while, but kalim's sparkling serendipity puts your heart at ease. he takes you for a midnight rendezvous, golden embroidery flashing and sheening at every twist and turn you direct with the tassels with aplomb—as he compliments. his headpieces jangle merrily like a thousand bells in the breeze, up until he notices your sight being blocked by the troublesome hair whirling all over the place. chuckle as he may, he shifts it to the side of your face with a deft hand, tracing the last strands down to your chin. "there. seeing better now?"

interlaces your hand with his in your sleep. (the physical touch GOAT)

wrinkled bedsheets rustle under the weight of your movements, coarse, and even a bit sullen as the morning ooze of sunlight drenches through your curtains, as if it prohibits you to sleep in the entire day. kalim's newfound ailment forces the two of you to be separated indefinitely, so colour yourself surprised when you feel the taut clutch of your hand in another, holding onto the remaining pieces of you that he needily ached for all night. sun-kissed fingers wove between yours like silken ribbons, his eyes pleading for you to stay, as a minute—a moment without you in his world—would be infallible torture.

purchases a piece of the moon for you.

you know those moneyed, wealthy fans who purchase a piece of the moon for their favourite idol? kalim gets influenced, and is driven by his conviction that you deserve something more extravagant than rowdy parades or a hallowed mansion (regardless of how many he wishes to buy). he takes it upon himself to surf across Lunar Registry, registering your full name and gifting its stated amount for approximately...5000 sq ft of land of the celestial body that hung high in the sky, radiating its extraterrestrial luminance on your nights of sobriety. you chide him for such an impulsive act in return, but soften up when he states, upright, that he would gift you all the stars in space if he could.

VIL SCHOENHEIT

brings you to touch him himself.

no use if you're cowardly in the bold language of physical touch, vil will simply make you oblige into feeling him, whether its physically or through minds. oftentimes you find yourself hastily straddled on his lap, him decked in his satin-sewn pajamas, as you prod and poke his hands nervously while scrutinizing every area of skin that screamed of his unyielding years of care. there's a teasing lilt that lurks behind his voice, questioning if you're seriously taking your time trying to figure him out where you're aware that he's less than patient. he seizes your hand in his grip, and leads them to his chest—shamelessly. if he needs to remind you of who you're with every day, he'll be more than committed to reel you closer to his body.

demands full eye contact.

tsking and huffing is, an unsurprisingly normal habit for him to adapt. and this includes moments of when you're shying away from him, heaving under your tense breath about how unfairly attractive he is. slick in his latest outfit tailored specifically according to his calibrated measurements. high stilettos bests your height, and he almost seems disappointed in the lack of praise he's receiving (although he knows exactly why). you feel a manicured finger tilt your chin upwards, as your teetering praises come to an abrupt halt. he smiles, demanding you to look him in the eyes throughout every second you're worshipping him.

tells you to ready yourself before he showers you in his love.

vil wants you to experience each and every slide of his nails against your feverish skin, whispering pure promises and cherishing you, affirming that you're worth much more to him than a million grand. if you ever throw yourself below the bar lower than necessary, he waves your deplorable behaviour away, and asks if you truly believe that you're tumbling down that route of thinking when you're with him. vying arms enclose your figure like a velvet blanket, surrendering your chapped lips a centimetre away from his, as his refined scent tickles your nose until he advises you to prepare yourself to revel in his untiring devotion. all your worthwhile priorities were put on hold until further notice.

IDIA SHROUD

leaning back in his chair after finishing a game.

you arose from your sleep, previously dozing off while perusing written tales of the past propped up on idia's bed. the culprit of your awakening is off cheering in the same vicinity after speed running a round and emerging victorious, unmanned, of the latest version of a first-person shooter game he recently installed on his computer. he starts to recline in his chair as it creaks off his weight, arms slackened behind his head and his sweater gliding off of his stomach, exposing the barest bit of delicate skin that indulges you to run your hands across. he emits the heaviest of sighs while he runs a sore hand through his hair, as the disorientation of your mind starts to scatter all over the place.

"i thought it'd cost more."

Idia Shroud will not have you get scammed by lowly, needling scammers surfacing online websites like newborn piranhas. his head begins to split when you spout about the official item being too pricey and that you won't be able to milk a single penny out of your derelict dorm, so he insists that he pays for the item for you himself. you send him a link of the mentioned item, and he felt like he was dragging himself through wet cement throughout the whole mire. he remains indifferent to the price overall, and goes "oh? i thought it'd cost more." with a brazen smirk etched on his face that it almost gave you a whiplash.

discreetly orders things to your front door.

quivering lips settle atop of your shoulder for the last time before he sends you back from his room after the intimate amour that had you two wondrously occupied for the entire day. you pilfer a single gummy worm from his desk, and cloak yourself further into his jacket that intoxicates every one of your senses as you streel into the night air that reeked of petrichor. your steps begin to feel like bricks, whilst your eyes were betraying your wish to stay alert. as you approach the front door welcoming you to your dorm, you gauge the sight of a small box placed on the carpet with a small note plastered on it that follows the lines of "for you, pretty thing."

MALLEUS DRACONIA

cushioning your head with his hand.

bony fingers sail through the pleasance of your hair, twirling each and every tendril that it meets and bringing them to his defined, pillowy lips. amusement cracks through the ominosity that sits in his eyes, shielded by his bangs as he beams a smile your way before grasping your shoulders in a split second. he pushes you down onto the mattress with a thud, cushioning your head with a single hand, and tells you to save your yelps and complaints before he endows you with the ability to sing for him all night. he reassures you that he does in fact, know how to secure the deadbolt on the door.

doesn't bother with any potential contenders whatsoever.

malleus but it's "okay, and?" personified. yes, he's heard of the towering sovereign in the neighbouring country who was recently appointed. yes, he's heard of the lucrative salesman nearby situated in town whose attention you captured after visiting his booth. yes, he's heard of Leona Kingscholar. but he could not give Two (2) flying tamagotchis about whoever has been swaying your way, tossing cheap and low-grade courtship in an attempt to earn your affection. he notes that he does have some cheesy pick-up lines of his own to use, but unlike the others, he knows you inside and out. he has no use for the mainstream ways of love and is eager to please you to his own liking, further revealing the unparalleled reverence he maintains for you and only you.

brushes his fingers over your collarbone.

once you step across the threshold of his bathroom, adorned in his nightwear, malleus can't help but dim the lights with the flick of his finger after catching the sight of your collarbone that peaks out from underneath. he's in front of you the moment you blink, and hums in response to your addled self. he brings his ice-tipped fingers to your neck, padding it with caution, and sliding them down to the V-shaped collar that hides the rest of your warmth. stark fingers ghost over the structure of your collarbone, and malleus asks whether you think the gibbous moon will be kind enough as to not set so early.

[lxvvie]

Plant Parenthood with Simon Riley:

When you first spent the night, you expected Simon's place to be minimalistic—not too fussy, bare, with only the necessities. You didn't expect a place flooded with natural light, strategically placed and well-taken care of potted plants, and cozy furniture. It's actually kinda boho-esque. Very much... not him.

Of course, this being Simon, he lives for the shock value. He wouldn't be him if he didn't. So while you're busy trying to stop gaping because holy shit, Simon's a Plant Dad, he's telling you to make yourself comfortable while he puts his stuff away. With a smirk on his face. Cheeky bastard.

When you woke up the next morning, all you could do was stare rather dreamily as your giant armored teddy bear of a man, wearing nothing but a pair of grey sweats (oh, what a sight ❤️), went about the living room spraying and watering his plants. And he's so careful with 'em, too. You were broken out of your reverie by the kettle whistling and Simon looking up and mumbling, "Mornin', sweetheart." Oh, you're in love love, now.

When you work up the courage, you ask him about his plants. You find out he took up the hobby after a particularly bad deployment, and it's one of the few that's stuck with him ever since. He buys one every time he comes home. Didn't imagine him having a green thumb but it's absolutely adorable. He's even named them.

You meet Simon's pride and joy, a bountiful Night Sky petunia plant named... Petunia. They're tricky little things, but Simon's up for the challenge, and the time it takes to care for them and his other plants does him a hell of a world of good; it's much better than thinking about all the gruesome shit he'll deal with on the next deployment.

When he does deploy on his latest mission, you promise to look after his babies. Simon's good at giving detailed instructions and whenever you two talk, you make it a point to let him know how they're doing. Simon even tells you the next plant he's thinking about getting when this deployment finishes. Sure thing, Si-bear.

And when he comes home, you surprise him. There, sitting on his window sill is that very same plant he's talked about getting, and yeah, Simon's in love love, now. "Meet Alfie. Thought you might like the name." And he chuckles. You wrap an arm around his waist and he drapes his over your shoulders. Alfie, huh? Not bad, sweetheart. Not bad at all.

Pretty soon, he's gonna need a bigger space for all his plant babies. And for you. Most definitely for you. Yeah, he said it, sweetheart. You started something here. Gotta deal with the consequences.

[wisteria-lodge]

If you're comfortable answering, how do you think JKR intended Draco to come across, and how did he actually come across in your mind?

I think Draco was intended to come off as a weak and kind of pathetic bully. The Dudley Dursley of the Wizarding World. 

That’s how we’re introduced to him: “Harry was strongly reminded of Dudley.” Almost he first thing we hear Draco say is the very Dudley-ish -  “I'm going to drag [my parents] off to look at racing brooms... I think I'll bully Father into getting me one and I'll smuggle it in somehow." Later books re-contextualize this as a brag - he is not actually able to bully his father into buying him presents, and instead of Dudley's tantrums Draco likes to embellish things in order to seem more impressive and get the result he wants. But initially, I think Draco = Dudley. They both dislike people who are different, dislike Harry for being more special (and because they’ve been given tacit permission to bully him...)They’re spoiled by their parents. They’re even both platinum blonde. 

JKR loves the idea of an antagonist who realizes that they were wrong and *you were right* a little too late, and then has no choice but to punish themselves. (Basically the entire deal with Snape.) So - Draco and Dudley get some of that treatment too. After Dudley meets the dementor he breaks down, has a moment where he leaves Harry a cup of tea, and another where he says “I don’t think you’re a waste of space.” BUT Dudley’s initial breakdown is framed as pathetic (even a touch comedic.)The tea he leaves outside Harry’s door has gone cold, and when Harry steps in it he initially thinks it’s a dumb prank. Dudley says “I don’t think you’re a waste of space” only in response to a comment Harry makes. Hestia Jones is super unimpressed, and thinks Dudley should be doing more. 

Like, JKR is aware that it’s not *completely* Dudley‘s fault he’s like that. Dumbledore comments on the “appalling damage [Vernon and Petunia] have inflicted on the unfortunate boy sitting between you.” But the damage is still done, and Dudley is meant to be seen as a figure of pity. All this is supposed to read as ‘too little, too late.’ If Dudley were less of a coward, a stronger person, a better person, he would’ve brought Harry the tea directly. 

Now let’s look at Draco, who is given some *very* similar beats. We see him crying in the bathroom, comforted by Myrtle (a comedic character) very similarly to how Dudley basically goes into shock after the dementor. Draco and Dudley are both framed as weak, but able to see the error of their ways, and their breakdowns set up an important plot/character moment for Harry.

Draco’s little “I can’t— I can’t be sure,” when he’s asked to identify Harry at Malfoy Manor is another beat of ‘too little, too late.’ Harry takes Draco’s wand a few minutes later (absolutely castration imagery - just look at how the text treats Lucius losing his wand) and then Dobby shows up to low-key shame Draco by doing the job that he [narratively] was supposed to have done: rescuing Harry and friends, probably dying in the process. I do think that’s how we’re supposed to read that scene. And then Harry gets these very similar selfless beats of saving Dudley (from dementors) and saving Draco (from fiendfyre.) That’s why JKR is so baffled when people like Draco, think he’s attractive, or ship him with Hermione. It’d be like shipping her with Dudley, it doesn’t make sense.

But a couple things went “wrong” when Draco was released into the world. For one thing, I think a lot of people saw his more indirect underhanded approach (he likes rumors, smear campaigns, blackmail, poison, sneaky back entrances, tricking/provoking Harry into breaking rules) as evidence that he's clever, and not that he’s a cowardly, spineless little weasel.

Then because JKR is committed to making Draco look ineffectual and comedic, she also makes him… not that bad? Most of his bad behavior goes down between books 1 and 3, and I’m sorry - when you’re 12 your politics are your parents' politics. You are not not responsible for that. By the end of the series Draco’s politics *have* changed, pretty drastically, and they changed under challenging circumstances.

I also think JKR accidentally gave him a better relationship with his father than she meant to? Jason Isaacs plays Lucius Malfoy as cold, I could see him being a *bit* of a bully when it comes to Draco -  but in the book, they go on outings, Draco complains to his father, Lucius is patient with him, gives him advice, sets boundaries, sends him little newspaper clippings in the mail. Lucius and Narcissa are running around without wands during the Battle of Hogwarts looking for him, and it’s supposed to be like “here are the Malfoys defanged.” But it's just a sweet moment. And if you’re positioning Draco as a romantic lead, then yeah I’d say that “good relationship with his parents” is an attractive trait.

The movie also did Draco Malfoy a HUGE favor by saying that yes, he absolutely does have the Dark Mark. That is never confirmed in the book. You can make the case that he doesn’t have it, and he’s doing what he does and embellishing the truth to seem more impressive. Hermione doesn’t think he has it. Ron says “I still don’t reckon You-Know-Who would let Malfoy join.” If he doesn’t have the Dark Mark, Draco gets to stay a semi-pathetic minor villain. But the second he does have it… well now you have someone who was given this tattoo/brand thing the *moment* he turned 16 (Draco has a June birthday) and now is 100% stuck. He is on a magical leash to Voldemort. He can’t run, can’t hide. All he can do is ride out this thing as best he can, and hope it doesn’t kill him or his parents. That’s a much more sympathetic character.

And my last thing, about the moment where he lies for Harry in Malfoy Manor (movies frame it as 100% a lie, books keep it more ambiguous)... is I don’t think J. K. Rowling realizes that Draco is the first person in the entire 7th book who helps Harry, at all. Molly Weasley is actively sabotaging the Golden Trio's planning by splitting them up and making them do wedding chores. Xenophilius Lovegood betrays them, Bathilda Bagshot betrays them, Rufus Scrimgeor is no help, Remus Lupin needs *their* help, Dumbledore gave them a series of maddening riddles. Snape gives them a weird puzzle to solve (also he’s very much acting under Dumbledore’s orders…) So when Draco DOES put himself on the line to buy them a few minutes, it makes for a pretty striking moment. He also keeps to this lie even when Lucius tells him not to, he lies to Bellatrix, he is almost certainly going to have to repeat this lie to Voldemort, who can read minds… 

So I think most fans look at Draco and see someone who is arrogant, a little bit of a shit, but is also sensitive, clever, emotional, nonviolent. (He’s definitely got a little bit of boy band non-threatening sexuality going on.) Draco will go out on a limb for the people he loves, and he comes through when it counts. There’s a survivor-mentality practicality to him, which is especially appealing in a series where so many characters are so willing to martyr themselves.

[headspace-hotel]

I have an essay brewing in my head constantly about lawns. Which, well, unsurprising, since I post about how I hate lawns all the time, but I think the "lawn" and "landscaping" centered way of thinking about Places Outside is a Bigger Thing that Connects to Other Things

(What isn't? Having ideas about concepts is always like this.)

I will introduce my ideas by a situation where they apply: Sometimes life-forms mimic other life forms. One form of mimicry is called Vavilovian mimicry, where weed species in crops grown by humans evolve over time to be more similar to the crops.

Vavilovian mimicry basically helps weeds survive because the weeds are adapted to the care-taking regimen of the crops, and because the human caretakers of the crop can have a hard time telling them apart, which means they might say "Ehh...I'll wait until it grows up so I can be sure I'm not pulling up my crop."

I think there's something similar at work among flower gardens and landscaping...but it's different.

Regular people don't know the name of every plant that might possibly grow in their flower beds, and they often pull up plants they don't know just because they don't know them. They sometimes say they pull up a plant that "looks weedy" or "looks like a weed."

I think to myself...what does "weedy" look like?

This question collided unexpectedly in my brain with an insight I had about invasive species that I could not explain.

I have to get rid of a lot of Callery pear, wintercreeper, honeysuckle, burningbush, privet, English ivy, and other plants that are invasive where I live. And strangely- many invasive plants look similar in ways they don't share with very many native species. They tend to have small, round or squat, glossy leaves, and they tend to have a very dense growth habit.

I can think of several possible explanations: Maybe these species thrive in North America today because of the loss of controlled burning, but their characteristics look so distinct next to native species because they relate to things that would make a species fire-intolerant? This doesn't seem quite right, since it doesn't predict level of fire-adaptedness in native species.

Another explanation is better: they were selected for these traits by humans for their usefulness in landscaping. Dense growth habit would be useful for creating hedges or ground covers. This is why many invasives were originally planted, right? And small leaves might feel or be perceived as less "messy" when they fall.

But I think this is a clue to something else going on. What does "weedy" look like?

Some plants go on one side of "weeds vs. flowers" and some on the other, and it's almost totally arbitrary...so how do gardeners make the call so decisively?

I think about the commonest "landscaping" plants- Knock Out roses, hostas, petunias, begonias, boxwoods and so on- they share a lot of the characteristics mentioned above. Shiny or at least smooth, typically small and squat leaves, dense and compact growth habit.

Then I think about some of the commonest and most important "weedy" native wildflowers, such as goldenrods, asters, milkweeds, Joe-Pye weed, ironweed, sunflower. They all differ from the above in at least one striking way. Mostly, they have hairy leaves and stems, long and thin leaves, and a tendency to grow up tall before blooming. Milkweed has smooth leaves, but its leaves are long and very big. Hmm...

And I think I can guess where this is coming from.

Landscaping and garden designs often look like this

See how the plants are drawn and arranged to cover a space in two dimensions, mostly not overlapping with each other? This is very easy to plan and design. And those common landscaping plants I mentioned—hostas, Knock Out roses, boxwoods, and so on—are very good at acting just like a two-dimensional representation of them does. Just look, you can see them:

Now look at those important native wildflowers I mentioned:

Goldenrod

Ironweed

Milkweed

These guys don't fill much space in a horizontal plane, they go straight up. They don't exclude other plants from very much space either. Plants could grow under them and among them. So they're not very good for "filling up" space, and their opener, lankier, less dense shape doesn't do a good job at blocking other plants from growing.

In a garden of North American prairie- or meadow-adapted plants, the plants wouldn't exclude each other and stay within their designated spots because they're evolved to intermix with a great variety of plants.

"Separateness" is a big part of the typical "landscape" aesthetic. These plants are very neatly separate from each other. This is what looks "neat" and well-kept to us...the opposite of "weedy."

This could mean our garden and flower beds are affected by a selective pressure a lot like the Vavilovian mimicry situation. But instead of weeds being selected to look like intentionally grown plants, the intentionally grown plants are being selected to look different from weeds.

The subtle difference makes perfect sense. In a field, the rule is "leave the plant there if you're unsure" because that's your food. In a flower bed, the rule is "get rid of the plant if you're unsure" because having weeds is more aesthetically unacceptable than having blank space.

The point is: Ecology needs to be a big part of gardening and landscaping, because you are DOING ecology. Even if you don't know the evolutionary principles, you're acting them out.

Just like the ineffable preferences of female birds give the males weird elaborate display structures, ineffable aesthetic "senses" that govern our "built" world slowly turn it into something weird.