#easy florida gardening

[ecoorganic]

8 best Florida gardening ideas To Try Out this Summer

8 Florida gardening ideas To Try Out this Summer With summer in full swing, it’s time to get creative and find ways to make your garden stand out. If you live in Florida, there are a few special considerations that you need to take when planning your garden. From having the right soil type to selecting drought-tolerant plants, there are many techniques you can use to design the perfect garden…

[solarpunkani]

Laying in bed wishing I was in a field full of milkweed collecting seeds

[grantimatter]

Looks like they’ve got Brightline to Tampa and extending up to Jax… unless this is an Amtrak competitor.

All FRA Corridor ID and FSP grants have been released, here is the official DOT map

[smilesession]

Hey man I've been watching some Wicked and Dune recently, what kind of movies do you like?

Nice I like The Heart of the World, Basket Case, Threads, Altered States, Der Himmel über Berlin, Das Weisse Band, Сталкер, Psychedelic Glue-Sniffin' Hillbillies, Julien Donkey-Boy, Badlands, The Killing of a Sacred Deer, Guyana Tragedy: the Story of Jim Jones, Streets of Fire, Bicycle Thieves, Koyaanisqatsi, Possession, McCabe & Mrs. Miller, The Saddest Music in the World, Fehérlófia, Gothic, The Dark Backward, No No Nooky T.V., Tetsuo the Iron Man, Janet Planet, Dead Man, Septien, They Eat Scum, Possibly in Michigan, Face Like a Frog, Multiple Maniacs, Slacker, Caché, Melancholia, Down by Law, Black Christmas, The Florida Project, The Deer Hunter, Soylent Green, Bar-B-Que Movie, Sweetie, The Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2, Paris Texas, Night on Earth, mother!, Brain Damage, Иди и смотри, Asteroid City, Barnyard, Shredder Orpheus, Reality 86'd, Carnival of Souls, Tales from the Quadead Zone, Old, We're All Going to the World's Fair, Scorpio Rising, Gummo, Waiting for Guffman, Grey Gardens, American Movie, The Devil and Daniel Johnston, The Maestro: King of the Cowboy Artists, Trash Humpers, Turtle Dreams, Perfect Lives, Begotten, À ma sœur!, The Beaver Trilogy, Stranger than Paradise, The Holy Mountain, The Eyes of My Mother, I'm Thinking of Ending Things, Kinds of Kindness, The Piano, The Lighthouse, House, Frailty, Hated, Phantom of the Paradise, Cry-Baby, Popeye, Jeanne Dielman 23 quai du Commerce 1080 Bruxelles, Ali: Fear Eats the Soul, Cruel Story of Youth, Hiroshima mon Amour, Last Year at Marienbad, Memorias del subdesarrollo, Easy Rider, Sunrise: A Song of Two Humans, Pink Flamingos, Κυνόδοντας, Emmet Otter's Jug-Band Christmas, Me and You and Everyone We Know, Hands on a Hard Body, PlayTime, Female Trouble, The Lovely Bones, My Dinner with Andre, What Ever Happened to Baby Jane?, π, Scanners,

[heartthrobin]

making merry, oh my little fairy (2)

sam winchester x fairy!reader

wc: 5.3k

warnings: soulmate!au (partners share scars), fem!reader, implied age gap (reader is early 20's), hella pining, tooth-rotting fluff, destiel is canon, town being mean to reader, some shaky police jargon, references to thick reader (everyone cheered) but can be ignored, dean being dean, canon-typical warnings (child kidnapping, violence ect.)

an: part 2 of my little fairy series! it's been sitting in my drafts for weeks and part 1 was pretty unpopular so i've been hesitant to post it but then i realized i write for myself and not for recognition! so enjoyyyyy. remember to comment and repost to support your favourite writers :)

summary: you flew around Sam's mind with your pretty little wings all night and all day, it doesn't help that you're popping up around every corner of this case. he's trying not to think about it.

part one part three part four

They'd sat in the car parked out front maybe longer than they should have. Sam noticed you peak through the curtain at the twenty minute mark, he only noticed because he could feel your curious gaze.

It disturbed him enough to allow Dean to fly down the neighbourhood road noisily at too many miles an hour.

Naturally, sleep became a stranger.

Dean was long passed out on the questionably lumpy motel bed and Sam was still at the desk. The white light off his laptop made his eyes itch.

A dryad is a tree nymph, commonly inhabiting oak trees, and generally born into the form of beautiful women. Many dryads were considered to be originally human or children of the nature Gods and it is widely believed that they take on the physical characteristics of the trees they protect.

Your eyes returned to him again, if not for the hundredth time that day. The way the greenery reflected off of them at him. The strength of your legs, how they were wide and grounding like the tree that engulfed your house. Your movements, your walk, how you floated like how the leaves shivered in the forest beyond your garden walls.

Sam had given considerable thought to his soulmate, as most people did.

He was turning thirty-one in a few months time and it had occurred to him that maybe you were on the other side of the world. Maybe you were dead. But people had warned him that he'd know if that were true. He'd feel it, like a gaping wound in his soul.

Castiel had appeared to Dean in a flash of light. In a heroic swoop of love, and Sam thought maybe that could happen to him too.

His thumb was warm where it ran over the scar down his arm.

He wondered if you thought the same.

If you dreamed of his arrival the way he'd dreamed of yours.

It was a silly thing, to dream of meeting your true love. Far too trivial in the life of someone like Sam Winchester when the fate of the world, of good versus evil and heaven versus hell was always in the palm of his hand.

But your figure was burned into his corneas like a blinding torch.

It scared him. Not an easy feat for the man who'd seen it all.

Sam had asked Dean a few years back.

Can someone live without their soulmate?

Dean had shrugged. "Sure, plenty of people do."

Sam had sunk back another sip of his beer at the time, they were somewhere in Florida.

"What if they'd already met them? Can they decide that they don't want to be with them?"

Dean chuckled at that. "I doubt that works out very often."

It was already long after Dean had met Castiel. Long after he'd survived his "my soulmate is an angel and a man what the fuck--" stage.

"What makes you say that? I'm sure some people have a strong enough willpower."

Dean had answered him by referencing some movie, one that Sam knew he loved and it took a bit of pestering for Dean to admit he knew the quote by heart.

He'd blushed nearly red and shrugged, accompanying it by another long slug of his beer.

"It's like at the end of the movie--" When Harry Met Sally, specifically, "When they're at that New Years party and Billy Crystal goes up to Meg Ryan and gives that whole speech, and he says that line."

Sam was grinning by then. "What line?"

Like he hadn't seen the movie enough times to know.

"You know, he when says ... when you realise you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible."

Sam had long made peace with the fact that even if you did ever come around, that it would be better to leave you be. To leave you in the safety of a life different to his own.

At least he had.

In the slim hours since leaving your doorstep he'd found himself choking over the thought of never seeing you again. Of his eyes never laying again on your face that gazed so happily up into his own, like you felt his warmth in a cold winter.

He was plagued, possessed, by the thought of never knowing more.

Never knowing the way you liked your tea, how you looked first thing in the morning, or worse, how your lips would feel slow and warm against his own.

He wanted to know your favourite song, and your worst fear. He wanted to know where you came from, how you found Fernglade, Washington. What's your favourite book, do you like to read? Would you like it if he read to you instead? Maybe you would, you'd be tucked against his side in bed and he'd tell you about his favourites. His favourite movies and the way he drinks his coffee and the shampoo he used. Maybe you'd play with his hair, braiding little flowers into the ends--

Sam groaned. His face fell into his hands.

This wasn't supposed to be happening. Not now.

But he supposed there would never be an adequate time for your arrival.

And god, you weren't even human.

Cross species soulmates weren't impossible - improbable, sure (about as much as being hit by lightening) - but not impossible.

It was only Sam's luck, the Winchester's luck, that they'd both been struck.

Castiel was an angel, but the concept seemed to fade off Dean quickly at the time.

Dean himself had been little help on the matter during the blurry drive back to the motel. "Hey. I mean, all things considered, fairy sex must be crazy."

Sam closed the tab on Dryads: A Modern Day Delve into Greek Mythology. Another page blinked up at him.

When the sun was still setting and Dean was still seated across from him, he had managed to do some work.

It distracted him, barely, but he managed to somewhat narrow the list of potential suspects.

The filters helped. Creatures that steal children. Creatures that live in the woods.

In all the webpages and in some text from John's journal he'd found a common thread. A thinly veiled one, but a lead regardless.

Goblins are generally found living in communities in burrows of forests across Western America. They are known to be mischievous and malignant spirits which often feed on small animals or easy prey and hunt during the warmer months before hibernating in Winter.

Children are easy prey, Sam thought.

Some subspecies were believed to be able to shift into the form of naughty children and sneak into nearby villages to prey on young humans.

It was the last thing his eyes ran over before he slipped the laptop shut. He crawled to the bed, wishing more than anything that his mind would cut him a break, before sliding under the sheets: seeking respite from the crisp autumn Washington

-

"Rise and shine, Sammy."

The hangers reeled noisily against the rod where Dean had ripped open the curtains and the stark light brought Sam to gasping consciousness.

Sam pulled the pillow up over his face, grumbling into it.

He made out the sound of Dean setting a coffee mug on the side table.

"What time did you get to sleep?"

Answered by another indiscernible whine, Dean sunk into the chair at the tiny table in the room. "Fine, fine ... but did you find anything helpful? Besides fairy porn probably."

It earned him a well-aimed smack in the face with a pillow.

Dean laughed jovially, "Okay, okay."

Sam rose up into a sitting position with a moan. He ran a hand over his face, the other grappling for the already cooling coffee mug on the table.

"Goblins." He muttered around the rim.

Dean paused his own sip, face falling into incredulity.

"Did you just say "goblins"?"

Sam nodded. He didn't elaborate.

"Listen, I know it's a conversation you probably don't wanna have ... but are you sure we're ruling out your little garden fairy from this equation? I mean, it really doesn't look good for her--"

"You're right. I don't want to have this conversation."

Dean shrugged. He fiddled with the coffee mug against his hand.

"It's not her." Sam added quietly.

Nodding slowly, Dean watched his brother with tentative eyes. "Have you thought about that? What you're gonna do?"

Sam rose from the bed, stripping off his shirt. "I don't know man. I don't even think she knows."

It had been a thought that occurred to him at some point in the previous night, that you didn't know. That it was probably selfish to keep it to himself.

"Right, well anyway," Dean reached into the tupperware you'd gifted them the previous afternoon. He'd already cleared out his own and was starting on a pastry from Sam's box. "I was thinking we should go speak to the third vic's mom. Kelly Williams. We haven't spoken to them yet and maybe they can tell us more."

Sam nodded. "Sure. You got an address?"

"No, but she's working a stall at..." Dean picked up a leaflet from the table that Sam assumed he'd found on his coffee run before he was up, "The Fernglade Sunday Market. We can find her there."

"Fine."

He disappeared into the bathroom, Dean heard the shower turn on.

"And you can tell me about this goblins story on the way there!" He called after him.

The door slammed shut.

-

"So you think goblins are coming into town and stealing kids out their back yards?"

The morning was warm and the market made it more so. It was out on a farm a couple roads down from the boys' motel.

There were little set-up stalls as far as he could see over lush green grass, selling cakes and jewellery and home-made soaps. Couples strolled hand-in-hand and children chased their parent's ankles.

Sam shrugged. "I mean yeah, it makes sense. Dad mentioned about the trees, Y/n mentioned about the forest too."

Dean nodded, his eyes rolling over the scenery. "Sure, but goblins? I've never heard of that anywhere, I mean, how do you even kill it?"

"Them." Sam corrected. "They live in groups."

Dean sighed. "Well that's gonna be fun."

Somewhere down the row, a man was singing behind a set up microphone with a guitar in his lap. A small crowd had formed to watch him.

Sam's stomach had begun churning with that feeling that made his organs feel like jelly again. He shrugged against the collar of his shirt.

"Right, well, there's Kelly Williams' stall." Dean glanced again down at the pamphlet, "Rings and Things ... how creative--"

But Sam's eyes had found on another stall. One further down from Kelly Williams', a little set-up of vases and stain glass sculptures. Rather ... they found the woman standing in front of it.

Of course it was you.

Standing against the breeze in another, unsurprisingly, light green dress. It was ruffled and shimmering and glittery and short. It made Sam's airways tighten to a shut.

You seemed intent on avoiding wearing anything that draped any further than just over the curve of your ass, and Sam prayed to anyone listening that it would stay that way.

"Sammy?"

Dean's face shrunk in confusion, he followed his brother's line of sight. He began to laugh, clearly finding you, and jostled Sam with a hand on his shoulder. "Well, isn't this just your luck."

Sam was sucking in deep breaths again. Dean shoved him in the side.

"Go talk to her, I'll speak to Mrs Williams."

Jumping back into semi-consciousness, Sam shook his head, "No, no, it's fine. We'll go--"

"Stop being a baby, Sam." Dean shrugged him off. "You're gonna have to talk to her eventually. And I hope you do a better job than you did yesterday, because that was a train-wreck."

"Thanks."

But Dean's figure was already retreating.

"Asshole." Sam muttered under his breath.

Eyes found you again, they strained against the sunlight. He could make out your face from where he stood: it was twisting, falling into a creased brow that Sam didn't like the look of.

His legs began moving before he had chance to instruct them and it only took a couple paces of his long structure to find your side, heart thumping violently in his ears.

Your eyes lifted from the table, there was an elderly lady sitting in the shade of the cover and looking unimpressed.

"Sam." You smiled up at him and he swore in that second he could listen to you saying his name forever on repeat and never grow bored. "What a pleasant surprise."

"Hey." He sighed, it was louder than he anticipated and he could feel his cheeks growing warmer. "W-What are you doing here?"

You stuttered, "Well, I was just looking at this cute little crocodile--"

His eyes found where your hand was motioning over the woman's table. He was unsurprised to find it littered with stained-glass sculptures of animals. Lions and fish and elephants among others.

But the woman interrupted before you could find the end of your sentence.

"I don't sell to kidnappers."

Her elderly face was curled up in disgust. Sam was taken aback by her directness.

He was more taken aback by your polite smile at her.

"That's fine. I'll be on my way." You nodded kindly, looking back up to Sam. "Wanna take a walk?"

Sam's bones had begun aching with fury in the small seconds since he'd arrived. His brow-bone was heavy set against his eyes.

He glanced over at the crocodile you'd referenced. It was about the size of a shoebox, glassy in bottle green tones and grinning a mouthful of sharp teeth up at him. He could already see it sitting happily on a spot between your books and photo frames, maybe up on the mantle above your fireplace.

Brushing softly against your elbow with his hand, a movement that sent a stone cold shiver up his whole body, he shook his head. "Just one sec--"

He turned to the woman, sticking his finger in the direction of the lifeless creature.

"I'd like to buy that crocodile please."

"Oh, Sam, you don't have to--"

But the woman was unmoved, "No. I'm not selling anything to anyone associated with her."

She stuck a shaking finger in your direction and Sam suddenly wanted to rip the stall to pieces.

"We should just go..." Your voice was small and he fought hard against pulling your frame into his side.

Instead, he reached into his jacket pocket for his FBI identification: flipping it out into the daylight for the woman to see. Her eyes widened behind thinly framed spectacles.

"I said I'd like to buy that crocodile." His voice was stern, heavy laden with his trembling aggravation. "How much is it?"

The woman's face flickered between emotions, before settling on vexation. "Forty dollars." She mumbled.

"I'm sorry?"

"Forty dollars." She replied more clearly, face turning red in embarrassment.

Sam slipped away his badge and dug for his wallet in his pocket, he flipped between the notes and handed her two twenty dollar bills. The woman was quiet while she wrapped the creature, avoiding your and Sam's eyes in the process.

She handed it over with a scathing, "Get away from my stall."

"With pleasure." He turned to you, your face was a cherry red shade. "I'll take you up on that walk."

You stepped away, offering a small sheepish "thanks" to the woman scowling at your and Sam's retreating figures.

"Here." He handed you the crocodile gently, and you took it with tentative hands. "Get a lot of that?"

But you shrugged off his question, grabbing for your purse. "You really didn't need to do this, Sam. Let me just pay you--"

Sam stopped, taking your forearm into his hand - the tingle it sent up his body again didn't go amiss - and he huffed. "Please, please. Don't. It's a gift."

The sun was shining off your dress and it made your face seem lighter. "Sam, really, I can't ask you to--"

"Please?"

You paused, lashes blinking carefully up at him and god he could really kiss you right there--

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure."

Smiling again, easing the tightness in Sam's chest, you nodded. "Fine."

You held the crocodile up to your face, "What are we gonna name him?"

"We?" Sam laughed and you laughed back at him.

"Sure, he's ours now." You tucked it under your arm again.

Ours. He was fragmentally taken away with the thought of something belonging to them, to us. A house, a couch, a dog (or a fox if that's what you wanted)--

"Anyways, where's the other one?"

Sam was brought back to the conversation.

"Oh, uh, Dean?" his eyes grazed over the stalls, pointing over to where Dean was talking with the tall Kelly Williams behind a tray of seashell necklaces. "Talking to one of the victims."

"Right, I almost forgot." You fiddled with your bag over your shoulder. "He decided whether he's killing me yet?"

His mouth tilted teasingly. "What makes you think that I've decided I'm not here to kill you?"

You shrugged, teeth flashing in a gut-wrenchingly beautiful smile. "Well, you bought me this, and ... you don't seem the type."

"The type?"

"Nah, you're too sweet on me already."

Sam's stomach did a somersault in his chest. "I--"

"Besides, you couldn't do it here. Too much blood, too many witnesses ..."

Sam's hair flicked over his shoulder where he tossed his head back to laugh. "Right. You've thought about the logistics already."

"Sure have." You nodded. "Any headway on the kids?"

"Some." He shrugged. "There's this fairy--"

"Dryad."

"--living in this petting zoo in this cottage on the outskirts of town..."

"Fine." You conceded. "I won't ask."

"No, but we have--"

"Ah, look at you two. Getting along like a house on fire."

Sam hadn't noticed his brother's approaching footsteps. Dean clapped a jolly hand over his brother's arm.

You smiled in greeting. "Good morning Dean."

He nodded. "'Morning Tinkerbell."

"Dean."

Chuckling you nodded. "Good one. Haven't heard that before."

The sun was hot on Sam's shoulders, Dean was making it hotter with his conspicuous side eye.

"What's that you got there?" He motioned over the figure under your arm.

You lifted it up proudly, "It's my crocodile. Sam got it for me. The lady wouldn't sell it to me."

"Oh, Sam got it for you, huh?" Dean smirked, relishing in the admission.

"Yep."

The glitter in your eye was making Sam's knees buckle.

"W-We should get going ..." He shifted from his one leg to the other. "Work to do ... and stuff."

"Right," you agreed, fixing the strap over your shoulder again. "I should also head home, not very welcome 'round here anyways."

Confusion glazed briefly over Dean's face but he said nothing on it.

"Yeah, stuff to do." He nodded.

You began your walk past them, finding Sam's gaze. "Thanks again, Sam. I'll see you boys around."

His eyes followed you where your crystals were clinking around your neck. "Yeah. No problem."

Barely out of your earshot, Dean turned to Sam. "A crocodile, huh?"

"Shut up."

-

It wasn't another two days before Sam saw you again.

The boys dove head first back into research, Mrs Kelly Washington hadn't much more to add beyond the fact that she heard another child's voice in the moments before her daughter's disappearance.

"I mean, there was some mention in the lore about goblins being able to turn into kids. Naughty ones at that."

Dean sighed over his bar-top lunch. He took another swig of beer.

"Okay, so what, these ... goblins are coming into town as children and grabbing the kids from their yards? Maybe they'd met somewhere before then, at school or the park?"

Sam shifted the salad around his plate, bored. "Yeah, maybe."

There was a depressingly thin amount of information in John's journal on goblins and the website lore was too broad to even begin sifting through it before another child was taken.

"Well we know that eight kids are taken each time, right?"

Nodding, Sam took an unenthusiastic bite of tomato.

"That means there's still two kids to be taken. I mean, there's only been six victims and autumn is two weeks away from ending, if the story is true that they hunt before winter."

The boy's didn't have to wait long. They were less than an hour clear of the dilapidated bar they'd stopped in for lunch when the call came over the police monitor in the car.

"Units, this is dispatch. We have a suspected 134 at 98 Calvary, requesting assistance."

Code 134. Kidnapping.

Dean found Sam's eye across the front seat before taking a screeching turn into the next street.

Cavalry road was just a few streets down and the scene was as they'd expected. Burning red and blue cop cars littered the street and Dean pulled the Impala into a space between them.

There was a scuffle of officers, in the corner of the driveway a man holding a sobbing woman to his chest. The parents.

Dean and Sam flashed their badges at the nearest deputy.

"What's the situation?"

The officer huffed, tightening his grip on either side of his belt. "We think the kid was taken, Frankie Moore. Disappeared about two hours ago, the parents only called in the last twenty minutes. They thought he'd just run off."

Dean nodded and Sam watched over the scene around him.

"Any witnesses?"

The cop shook his head, Taylor, his badge read. "None. Right out the backyard, just like the others."

"Did the parents see anything, hear anything?" Sam pressed.

"Not from what we can gather from them right now, they're pretty out of shape." Taylor motioned back to where the Mrs Moore was desperately pushing out sentencing between racking sobs. "But we've got a suspect, they're out fetching them right now."

Dean glanced over the officer, "A suspect?"

Sam's hands were starting to itch. He twisted them against his the cuffs of his sleeve.

"Yeah, neighbour saw them out in the forest about an hour ago. Called it into dispatch. They never took it seriously until this call came in."

Somewhere behind them a short siren yelped from one of the cars.

"Did they have the kid or what?" Dean's face was laden with confusion, the story twisting around his brain.

"No, but they've been taken in on suspicion. Talk of the town and such." Taylor responded and Sam's heart sunk to his knees.

There was a click over the officer's radio. "Suspect is in custody."

He pulled it closer to his mouth, "Copy that."

Sam tugged up on the end of his sleeve, revealing his wrists in the afternoon light. They were turning a pinkish red. Handcuffs.

"Dean."

Dean's back stiffened at his brother's tone, eyes finding his wrists. He sighed. "You've got to be kidding me."

Sam's brain was turning muddy. "The suspect, is she a woman?"

Taylor nodded. "As far as I know, yes."

-

There was nothing else said.

Sam fled the scene as if the perpetrator himself. He flew into the passenger's seat with the force of an attacking bear.

Dean chased after him, slotting the key into the ignition: setting the car alight.

"Sam, I know what you're thinking--"

Houses flew past the car, streets and pedestrians, but Sam had no space to consider them.

"You don't know what I'm thinking."

But Dean was persistent, knuckles white around the wheel. "She's your ... your soulmate, I get that, but our leads are thin. Have you considered that she could really be doing this?"

The station came into view at the end of the road. Lights from the cars were flashing in Sam's eyes. His head spun.

"She's not a monster, Dean."

"But she is, Sam! She is! She's not a human."

Dean pushed down on the brake in front of the sheriff's station and Sam was out the car before it had fully pulled to a stop.

He threw the doors open. Officers were flocking around like seagulls over an abandoned hot dog.

Sam grabbed the arm of the nearest one, firm in his grip.

"The suspect, where is she?"

"Uh, they've just moved her to--"

The doors swung open again behind him and the rumbling of the station was overpowered by a loud low whine. It was followed by an equally distressed yelp.

Sam turned to find a row of officers, leading one after the other like ducks, each with a rattling metal cage of a different animal. Your animals.

Goose was yipping wildly in the confines of the box. A woman holding Lydia followed him. They come in procession: the rabbits, the ferrets, the ducks, the budgies.

"What the fuck!" An officer close to the door jumped out the way where Lydia hissed angrily at him from between the bars.

"No, please!"

Sam spun on his heel. His hands felt heavy with helplessness. It was your voice, echoing across the station and reverberating in his brain.

"Please, just leave them! They're not gonna hurt anyone. I haven't done anything--"

His feet chased after the sound. Sam found a long corridor near the back of the room, there were two officers tugging on either of your arms. Your eyes were bouncing wildly between each of the officers where they disappeared into the evidence room with your pets.

Your gaze found his own. "Sam!"

"Y/n." He was bounding down the corridor, long stretches of leg, but the officers were adamant in their grip.

"Sam, I promise I didn't-- it wasn't me. I swear--"

There was a loud huff and a heave and you stumbled backwards into a closed holding cell. Your hands wrapped between the bars.

"I know," Sam was breathless. "I know you didn't--"

Suddenly there was hands on his chest. "Sir, you need to get out of here."

"I need to speak with her--"

"Sir you can't do that. You need to speak to the sheriff."

Sam's chest was rumbling with a frenzied desperation. He couldn't pull his eyes off the fragments of your figure behind the bars.

The officers shoved him again. "Sir--"

He ripped himself off their grip, hair flushed back against his reddening face and he turned back down the corridor.

Dean was already at the sheriff's desk.

"--suspicious behaviour--"

"What the hell is going on?" Sam's voice rumbled across the room. "On what basis are you holding her?"

The sheriff was a small man and he looked smaller under Sam's furious stature.

"It's like I was telling your partner here, agent," He was patting a handkerchief over his balding head. "Y/n Y/l/n is being held on the basis of suspicious activity."

"What exactly is your definition of suspicious activity?"

The sheriff shrugged, "Well we got a call in of her roaming around the forest--"

Sam could feel his fists tightening at his sides, "What are people not allowed to go into the forest in this town or does that make them all kidnappers? You have no evidence--"

"Sammy, calm down." Dean's hand found Sam's chest but he shrugged him off.

"Release her. Right now."

But the sheriff shook his head. "Unfortunately, not even FBI have the power to do that. State's laws say she can be detained for 12 hours pending investigative procedures."

"Investigative procedures--?"

By then, Dean had him by the arm. "Okay, okay. Let's go cool off--"

He tugged Sam towards the door, surprising both himself and Dean by allowing him to do so successfully.

The cool dusk air rushed over his face. Sam took a deep breath.

"They have no evidence, Dean--"

"I get that, but you need to calm down. You're not helping the situation by threatening the sheriff."

An officer passed them with another cage. Three hedgehogs.

Sam ran a hand over his face. He took a deep breath.

"You don't even believe she's innocent, Dean."

There was quiet for a long moment.

Sam fell into a bench bolted against the side of the building. His hands found his face again. After a moment, Dean crouched into the spot beside him.

"Look." He sighed. "If you believe her, I believe you. Alright?"

Sam's eyes were watching his shoes. He nodded, only half believing his brother's claim.

They sat like that for nearly an hour with evening settling over Fernglade around them and the autumn crisp seeping into their suits.

After a long resounding silence, one that had stretched on past Dean's wide yawn, Dean rose to his feet.

"Sammy, we should go home. Get some headway on this goblins angle."

At that, Sam shook his head. "I'm gonna stay."

"What, until she's out?"

"Yeah."

Dean's eyes were dripping in pity and it made Sam's blood boil.

"That's--" he raised his watch into his eyeline, "She's still got another ten hours. It's only six o' clock now."

Sam nodded. "Yeah."

"Sam--"

"Dean."

Another cold silence.

Sam pressed his hair back with a wide hand, conceding. "Look, I'm sorry. But I'm gonna stay. You head back to the motel, do some work and get some sleep. I'll be fine."

Dean considered him, but he made no further argument and Sam thought momentarily it was maybe because he knew he couldn't budge him in the same argument with Cas.

"Alright. Fine." Dean nodded, tugging his jacket closer against the cold. "I'll see you in the morning."

Sam watched his brother's retreating figure all the way until the Impala had disappeared down the next street before going to stand.

The doors swung open with a whine, the station had cooled to a quieter buzz than when he'd first burst in. The sheriff had disappeared into an office off in the corner of the room.

Finding the nearest officer, Johnson, behind a short wooden desk, Sam approached him.

Officer Johnson glanced warily up at him from the papers he'd been filling out. He'd probably been witness to his first outburst.

"Uhm," Sam cooled his voice to a deferential timber. "The animals at the back, what's gonna happen to them?"

The officer set his pen down, "Well I'm doing the paperwork on them now. They'll be released if and when she does."

"If?"

He shrugged, "Yeah, if they don't find anything they'll let her go. Only got twelve hours."

Sam shifted his weight, running his eyes over the station. Somehow it was colder inside than the bench he'd just abandoned.

"Right."

The image returned to him again of your tiny green dress, the satin sleeves that reached down over your arms - he wondered for a moment if you wore them to cover all his scars - and the shiny ends that left your legs a prize for the bite of the freezing air that nipped at him even through all his layers.

He dug his hands into his coat pocket, pulling out his badge and his wallet and his phone to slip them into his pant pockets. Then he shrugged out the jacket.

Sam held it out to the officer. "Would you mind giving this to her?"

The officer took it with tentative hands, he gave it a glance over but made no move to stand.

"There's nothing in it." Sam huffed. "It's freezing in here, and unless you want her to die of hypothermia before morning, I suggest you do what I've asked."

He was considering it, Sam could tell by how his eyes flickered over the office door behind which the sheriff was hiding, but eventually elected to stand.

"Fine."

-

comment and repost if you enjoyed <3

taglist:

@firstsnowdrop @writerofthewinds @aria1245 @nyx22-blogs @lucysaloser @britishscum @pookiesnatcher @music-keep-me-sane @cryptid-with-a-cane @sammys-concubine @i-live-for-fantasy @grimbunnie @crystalreedwifey @haileycannotcometothephonern @i-cant-write-for-shit @did-someone-change-my-name @1313ek @chlorine11 @ch33ze00 @random-fandom-gurl @melancholicandmessy @harley-quinns-girlfriend @cardigan-ns @charliethealpaccaso @crystalandphoebewifey @nonbinarycryptic @multitargaryen @darylsleathervest @aquatic-bread @ferrersbiggestfan @miles-stargirl @secretsuitcasegooplawyer

[wishjacked]

Happy #WebcomicDay!! :D

This year we're celebrating the process of making pages... so below the cut I've got a bunch of pictures sharing how I go about making pages of my evil post-apocalyptic workplace sitcom, Cargo!! :D

So! My process!!

Writing-> I think sometimes there's pressure to "write" your comic a certain way, I see people talking about script format and stuff a lot. That really doesn't work for me, though! I write my "first draft" script in short scenes on scrap paper, in whatever order they come to me. Sometimes a scene will just be one or two lines, and then a little description of what I want to happen in the rest of the scene.

Later I type the scene up, and write the "connective tissue" that fits between the disjointed scenes so they all flow together like they ought. I don't do page breaks or even character tag or action notes hahahaha I like it to be as BASIC as POSSIBLE so it's easy to edit. And since I'm the person drawing it I can almost always remember who's supposed to be saying what lmao

I edit a lot, but the most major editing is also probably the last bit... when I letter my pages usually I realize "they would never say that" and so I end up rephrasing everything. My art brain is sometimes waaaaay better at phrasing hahaha. Like you can see in the finished page for this script I rewrote like basically all of it, and actually went back to the original "sketch" script in a lot of places.

Thumbnailing-> my thumbs are really big, I draw them with markers on printer paper and keep them in a binder!! I like to thumb scenes in batches and I also usually write my dialogue on them, just so I can read through them before (and while) I draw to get a feel for how the pacing works. :)

Sketching-> OH sketching is also really hard for me! I don't have a good visual imagination so it's really important for me to make sure I have good references. Last year I was especially focusing on setting.

My comic is set in Florida. I'm lucky in that I used to live there and still go back to visit sometimes, so sometimes I can gather my own reference images! But more often I start on Google Maps or Zillow, trying to find buildings that have interesting features or the right kind of "look" for what I want. I'll also look up other interesting elements, my comic is set in a post-apocalypse and I'll research home gardening and things like that which people would probably have.

For example, in this set in chapter 7, I used Google Maps images, photo references of indoor hydroponic gardening, and like, 90's-00's hacker computer setups haha. Also my BFF Roomstyler.com, where you can make 3d house interiors haha!!

Lineart-> I LOVE lineart it is my favorite!!!! I sketch and ink two pages at a time, and it usually takes somewhere between 10-12 hours to do both steps.

I actually think my art looks best when it's just lineart... but I think my STORY is better with color, like it makes it clearer and easier to read and it has a better atmosphere HAHA.

Colors-> I think it usually takes me 4-6 hours to do 2 pages (I haven't timed myself as consistently as I time my lineart and sketching). I have a big file with small copies of my previous pages that I color drop from, and my characters are all flats only. The limited palette that I use is also really handy, it streamlines coloring a LOT.

Finishing Touches-> aka I steal mercilessly from my one true love, my internet home, the beautiful and blessed Wikimedia Commons

I put lots of overlay layers on my art! I like textures so having some strange little textures or pictures on things makes my art feel a lot more finished to me.

And finally my very most favorite ✨finishing touch✨ is the bright colored/patterned gutters that I use. Here are some of my favorites that I've made and used in the past!

And that's all!! I hope you guys have a very happy Webcomics Day and find lots and lots of wonderful new things to read!!!

[diamondwerewolf]

Some pikmin headcanons, super mundane edition:

- All of Olimar’s children are in someway named after fictional characters (from comics or old strategy board games) he has to pitch them very hard to his wife. Their middle names are zodiacs

-Louie is SUPPOSED to be wear contacts/glasses but always forgets to

-Olimar can speak more than one language, but usually only around his parents

-Sometimes photos of olimar as an adolescent are mistaken for his son. It doesn’t help that the hat he wears is the exact same one olimar had as a teenager

-olimar’s parents don’t like Tarrey. She doesn’t care.

-while they don’t make much, Tarrey has managed to curate a very lovely home. She’s immensely thrifty, an excellent craftsman, and a gardener. Her pride and joy is their backyard

-despite being a housewife, tarrey’s degree is in agriculture

-carrots are to hocotate what corn is to ohio. Or oranges to Florida

-based on what little view of hocotate we have, olimar’s family live on the planet’s desert coast. The town is situated around a critical collection of oasis ponds and lakes. Hocotate is the devil child you get when you cross Japanese mountain side with Nevada and Florida. The drive to the beach is a solid hour.

-the house is in Tarrey’s name. A wedding gift from her mother

-Louie likes to stay up late, which may be why he’s always late to work. He has never been on time, ever

-Louie drives a truck for now. He’s saving up for a new motorcycle…to replace the second one he wrecked popping wheelies on the interstate in the middle of the night with his friends. Despite being a goober he does wear good gear.

-yes Louie has friends

-Louis will drive for hours just to go do some dumb shit in another town, or satisfy a specific food craving

-Louie’s late mother was a cruise ship pilot. Which is why he got an easy job in space cruise cargo loading before working for hocotate freight

-most of Olimar’s alone time is in the family garage. He has an office of sorts set up there where he works, listens to music, or reads news. There’s a small computer desk and a shelf with his action figures and trinkets. There are barrels of scrap wood and various power tools.

-bulbie is based on a beagle, so he yodels instead of barks

-after establishing more of a relationship with olimar and his family, Louie comes and goes from the family home. Sometimes he's there to use the kitchen, the tools in the garage, or wash his clothes. He has his own fridge in the garage so Tarrey won’t kill him for eating food meant for the kids

-Louie can pick locks……

-olimar has very enthusiastically shared pictures and notes he’s taken on pnf-404. He’s shared some stories about his time with the pikmin. Though….has neglected to go into detail about being turned into a leafling as not to worry his wife. If she asks, his answers are vague

[floridaboiler]

What Is The Main Ingredient of WD-40?

Before you read to the end, does anybody know what the main ingredient of WD-40?

No Cheating.....

WD-40 ~ Who knew!

I had a neighbour who bought a new pickup.

I got up very early one Sunday morning and saw that someone had spray

painted red all around the sides of this beige truck (for some unknown

reason).

I went over, woke him up, and told him the bad news.

He was very upset and was trying to figure out what to do ....

probably nothing until Monday morning, since nothing was open.

Another neighbour came out and told him to get his WD-40 and clean it off.

It removed the unwanted paint beautifully and did not harm his paint

job that was on the truck. I was impressed!

WD-40 who knew?

"Water Displacement #40".

The product began from a search for a rust preventative solvent and

degreaser to protect missile parts.

WD-40 was created in 1953, by three technicians at the San Diego

Rocket Chemical Company.

Its name comes from the project that was to find a 'Water

Displacement' Compound.

They were finally successful for a formulation, with their fortieth

attempt, thus WD-40. The 'Convair Company' bought it in bulk to

protect their atlas missile parts.

Ken East (one of the original founders) says there is nothing in WD-40

that would hurt you.

When you read the 'shower door' part, try it. It's the first thing

that has ever cleaned that spotty shower door. If yours is plastic,

it works just as well as on glass. It's a miracle!

Then try it on your stove-top.

It's now shinier than it's ever been.

You'll be amazed.

WD-40 Uses:

1. Protects silver from tarnishing.

2. Removes road tar and grime from cars.

3. Cleans and lubricates guitar strings.

4. Gives floor that 'just-waxed' sheen without making them slippery.

5. Keeps the flies off of Cows, Horses, and other Farm Critters.

6. Restores and cleans chalkboards.

7. Removes lipstick stains.

8. Loosens stubborn zippers.

9. Untangles jewellery chains.

10. Removes stains from stainless steel sinks.

11. Removes dirt and grime from the barbecue grill.

12. Keeps ceramic/terracotta garden pots from oxidising.

13. Removes tomato stains from clothing.

14. Keeps glass shower doors free of water spots.

15. Camouflages scratches in ceramic and marble floors.

16. Keeps scissors working smoothly.

17. Lubricates noisy door hinges on both home and vehicles doors.

18. It removes that nasty tar and scuff marks from the kitchen

flooring. It doesn't seem to harm the finish and you won't have to

scrub nearly as hard to get them off. Just remember to open some

windows if you have a lot of marks.

19. Remove those nasty bug guts that will eat away the finish

on your car if not removed quickly!

20. Gives a children's playground gym slide a shine for a super fast slide.

21. Lubricates gearshift and mower deck lever for ease of handling on

riding mowers.

22. Rids kids rocking chair and swings of squeaky noises.

23. Lubricates tracks in sticking home windows and makes them easier to open.

24. Spraying an umbrella stem makes it easier to open and close.

25. Restores and cleans padded leather dashboards in vehicles, as well

as vinyl bumpers.

26. Restores and cleans roof racks on vehicles.

27. Lubricates and stops squeaks in electric fans.

28. Lubricates wheel sprockets on tricycles, wagons and bicycles for

easy handling.

29. Lubricates fan belts on washers and dryers and keeps them running smoothly.

30. Keeps rust from forming on saws and saw blades, and other tools.

31. Removes grease splatters from stove-tops.

32. Keeps bathroom mirror from fogging.

33. Lubricates prosthetic limbs.

34. Keeps pigeons off the balcony (they hate the smell).

35. Removes all traces of duct tape.

36. Folks even spray it on their arms, hands, and knees to relieve

arthritis pain.

37. Florida 's favourite use is: 'cleans and removes love bugs from

grills and bumpers.'

38. The favourite use in the state of New York , it protects the Statue

of Liberty from the elements.

39. WD-40 attracts fish. Spray a little on live bait or lures and you

will be catching the big one in no time. Also, it's a lot cheaper than

the chemical attractants that are made for just that purpose. Keep

in mind though, using some chemical laced baits or lures for fishing

are not allowed in some states.

40. Use it for fire ant bites. It takes the sting away immediately and

stops the itch.

41. It is great for removing crayon from walls. Spray it on the marks

and wipe with a clean rag.

42. Also, if you've discovered that your teenage daughter has washed

and dried a tube of lipstick with a load of laundry, saturate the

lipstick spots with WD-40 and rewash. Presto! The lipstick is gone!

43. If you spray it inside a wet distributor cap, it will displace the

moisture, allowing the engine to start.

My discovery, Ants don't like it..................

P.S.

As for that Basic, Main Ingredient.......

Well.... it's FISH OIL....

Now This Is Definitely Worth SHARING!!

[chrissfavmilf]

LEARN

ABOUT

PINKY

PINKIES FAVS-

Songs: over it, all mine (b), all mine (p), all mine(k), go Gina, F2F, ex for a reason, shot clock, drew Barrymore, ex factor, come thru, wavy (interlude, anything, fashion killa, peso, sugar, who dat boy, pothole, garden shed, been that way, next to you, pussy power,agora hills, streets, I KNOW ?, sorry, sorry not sorry, SORRY NOT SORRY, DOGTOOTH,WHARF TALK, potato salad, prom, notice me, shine, been like this, better than me, new drank, sunset, white Ferrari, C u girl, RYD, some, heartbeat

Artists: summer walker, sza, partynextdoor, Bryson tiller, drake, Aaliyah, Lauryn hill, chase Atlantic, childish Gambino, beabadoobee, Megan thee stallion, Clairo, coco & Claire Claire, kehlani, Tyler the creator, Jhené Aiko, Ella Mai, Doja cat, lucki, Brent Faiyaz, Rihanna, A$AP Rocky, Daniel Caesar, Frank ocean, Steve lacy, pink pantheress, JT, city girls, Flo Milli, playboi cart

Albums: over it, ctrl, sos, anti, take care, anniversary, American dream, the miseducation of Lauryn hill, trapsoul, still over it, last day of summer, bastard, goblin, wolf, cherrybomb, flower boy, Igor, call me if you get lost + the estate sale, utopia, her loss, certified lover boy

Movies: girl interrupted, the Florida project, waves, midsommar, Superbad, mean girls, gone girl, thirteen, she’s the man, the hate u give, easy A, the duff, the virgin suicides, 500 days of summer, 10 things I hate about you, the goonies, freaky Friday, the babysitters club, clueless, the perks of being a wallflower, the breakfast club, Juno, the outsiders, the sandlot, Donnie darko, the fallout, boyz n the hood, lemonade mouth, flipped, my girl, good burger

Influencers (YouTubers, TikTokers, ect.) : the triplets, quen, Tara, Colby, Sam, Jake, Johnnie, grandma Deb, courtreezy, berleezy, dorisxchi, imdontai

FUN FACTS ABOUT PINKY

I’m lightskin (or mixed idfk the difference)

I’m a teenage girl

I’ve been watching the triplets since 2020

I live in the USA

[aisling-saoirse]

Plant of the day: Black Cherry - Prunus serotina

Today I wanted to recognize a lovely early successional tree species, one of America's showiest "Cherry" species and a vigorous ecological powerhouse

Black cherry has quite the unusual range, commonly found All over the Eastern US but has multiple geographically distinctive subspecies throughout the West and Mexico. North from Minnesota to Nova Scotia south to mid Florida to east Texas, Additionally it can be found in Big Bend National Park, areas of Arizona and New Mexico. South of the border Black Cherry is found throughout the East, West, and South Sierra Madres mountains reaching as far south as Guatemala.

Black Cherry as I've encountered it grows mostly in old fields and disturbed grounds, but apparently in Mexico it occupies mountainous regions. The species is also able to live long enough to be part of some older forests as well. In terms of finding it, If you've ever driven down an Eastern-Midwest highway in May, you'll notice plenty with a stunning display of white flowers (see below). I saw them all the way out to Kansas on Route 70.

This cherry occupies weedy environments very well, usually ending up with twisted bent forms and has an incredibly high germination rate. This vigorous tree can dominate a seed bank for years (I've pulled probably thousands from my garden beds). In Europe-East Asia it is considered a problematic invasive...but here where it's native it can outcompete the worst competition.

Identifying black cherry is rather easy, it has a dark flakey semi-plated bark (below), while the stems are notably cherry like (horizontal fissures) at the stems and intact portions of bark. The heart wood is notably orangish in color and the leaves give off the cherry-like odor when crushed. Leaves are typically longish symmetrical semi-shiny, darkish green with one very visible vein and shallow serated edges. Flowers are white clusters reminiscent of horns present around late May to early June. The ripe fruit is blackish red and present around August, on a good year it's quite plentiful (and delicious).

Black cherry is a wild edible in a few forms. I personally like to snack on the sour ripe fruit and spit out the large seeds, in Mexico these fruits are referred to as cupelines! The most fruitful useage is probably making jelly from collected fruit (something I do not know how to do). Cough syrups were historically derived from the bark and are still present in popular tea flavors such as "throat coats" (awful name).

While marginally edible to us the black cherry is ecologically the most important native cherry species for wildlife. Not only is there plentiful fruit for birds and large mammals the tree is rated number three amoung supported lepidoptera species. Per Doug Tallamy and Kim Shropshire's research the Prunus genus supports [at least] 465 species of invertebrates.

In this vein a common species which inhabits these trees are eastern tent caterpillars (image from inaturalist). I bring them up only because people commonly confuse them for the spongy moth (formerly g*psy moth). But tent caterpillars live in groups and only really eat prunus species whereas spongy moths are devastating and solitary. Interestingly enough the leaves of black cherry contain enough cyanide to make these caterpillars toxic to most predators! Don't break up the tent, tent caterpillars won't kill your tree.

In terms of modern relationships with the tree, people mostly use it as a higher quality cabinetry wood. I believe this species is one of the more common cherry woods to recieve, it has a strong orange hue to its wood which lasts. People also refer this species as an aromatic wood...however having cut down multiple of these trees I hate the smell, fresh cuts are like a chemical cyanide scent...

Lastly I'll bring up causes for decline, lately I've seen a reduction in black cherry due to an introduced fungus called the black knot. This affects many cherry species and isn't always fatal but can kill a tree (hence why I cut down multiple). You can treat individuals if you spot them early by cutting infected branches and burning/burying them before they spore in spring.

Ultimately the Black Cherry is the less famous cousin to the showy Asian cherry cultivars, but still holds a punch of beauty and provides incredibly high ecological value compared to most other American trees. Happy hunting!

[spamtoon]

Fearsome Five Epcot trip headcanons:

This is a complete shitpost they're not robbing the place they're just kinda there

Negaduck had the alarm at the hotel set to the sound of his chainsaw (which is still in his suitcase) because it's the quickest way to get the four's attention. Rather than taking a shuttle or anything they figure they can just hijack a car. After trying several cars until they found one big enough.

They paid for everything they didn't steal with Quackerjack's fake money and if staff didn't notice Negaduck made one of the four pay. Usually Bushroot. I don't think they bought anything at the gift shops though, the only real money spent not from Bushroot was to Liquidator, who carried the bags and as a result got people to charge him for his bottled water when they started sweltering in the Florida humidity. I mean lord knows they drink Liquidator's stupid water all the time but it's way better than stooping to drinking Dasani

Highlight of the trip for Negaduck was getting to crash the ship in mission space. It's so easy you press two buttons but I guarantee he would have just sat there and cackled while the others experienced so many lateral g forces and after so many opportunities to opt out. The four were getting scared but Negaduck likes pushing them. Off a cliff

Highlight of the trip for Liquidator was making a profit but Liquidator's other best moments were on the various boat rides, particularly Frozen. He can just merge with the water and go off track and it's not like any staff is there to tell him he can't do that. He made it look like Elsa endorsed his water to the next boat down and when the others were going down the small drop he had a bit of revenge and made the drop steeper for them. Ever since Negaduck parted the red sea with his powers he's been experimenting with them. Going in the jumping fountains and becoming a puddle to move faster and I think he can have fun with the various slow moving boat rides.

Highlight of the trip for Bushroot was Living with the Land, not because it's not anything he didn't already know and not because he missed the greenhouse after a long vacation (though he did enjoy seeing all those plants in one place) but because Liquidator insisted on "protecting him from garden employees" by holding him the whole time. Quackerjack and Megavolt spent the whole ride joking about the two of them. The whole trip he had been bordering on wilting it was so hot and the indoor sunny but air conditioned greenhouse is just what he needed. His favorite ride as a ride however was Soarin though I can imagine him being swayed by the music.

Highlight of the trip for Quackerjack was getting to see Megavolt's face during Journey to Imagination with Figment. He has a soft spot for the original as a work of art (and has some distain for Disney's merchandising as toy competition) but damn it. There's so many stupid effects in that ride and there are so many colors Megavolt was not processing any of it and Quackerjack laughed his head off the whole time. He also has a soft spot for the goofy dated kids play areas after a lot of the rides, with dumb little quizzes and spinny things and interactive things that are NOT video games.

Highlight of the trip for Megavolt was... Well, he thought it would be Remy's because of how cool and new the track vehicle was but he didn't actually get to see it very well up close before he was on and off it. The real highlight was Spaceship Earth, and all the dozens of animatronics in that attraction as well as others. He will infodump about hydraulic fluid and trackless ride vehicles and he just loves learning how these things work and seeing them in action. Figment was too much for him though he could not stand Figment.

[bumblebeeappletree]

Sophie profiles night-flowering plants to prove gardens can be enjoyed by early-birds and night-owls.

Under the harsh midday sun, it's easy to think gardening is purely a daytime activity, but plants don't put down tools when we do. With careful planning it's easy to bring your garden to life at night, adding extra dimensions for nocturnal pollinators. Sophie shows us that gardens can be enjoyed day in and day out.

Night Flowering Plants

Plants pollinated by butterflies and bees are at their brightest and most fragrant during the day, because that’s when their pollinators are most active. But not all plants are pollinated by bees and butterflies. Some plants are pollinated by nocturnal creatures like moths, bats and beetles, so these plants need to look and smell their best in the dark.

For pollinators that can't see well in the dark, they can be attracted by fragrance. Night-scented plants respond to the temperature drop in the evening. It triggers a chemical change in the petals where the volatile compounds become highly concentrated, and therefore more fragrant.

Some plants don't put on perfume but do respond to the fading of the light. In the plant world, it's called the nyctinastic rhythm, which is a bit like a circadian rhythm for plants. Typically, night flowering plants have white flowers because they have the best chance of reflecting light at night.

Madagascar Jasmine | Stephanotis floribunda *

This evergreen climber produces bunches of perfumed, white flowers over glossy, green foliage. It’s traditionally used in wedding bouquets and is reputed to have the best perfume of any climber. It's cold and frost tender and does best in a protected position next to a wall for radiant heat. In frosty areas, keep it undercover in a polyhouse or indoors. Stephanotis is related to Hoya and is non-toxic to pets so it can be a valuable addition to your indoor collection.

Chilean Jasmine | Mandevilla Iaxa *

This woody-stemmed climber has exquisite flowers with a sweet-vanilla scent that is most prominent in the evenings. Unlike other Mandevilla, which are sub-tropical plants, this one is cold and frost tolerant, even in the Adelaide Hills. The fresh, green leaves are deciduous in colder climates, but it will be semi-evergreen in milder climates.

Chinese Star Jasmine | Trachelospermum jasminoides *

This climber certainly packs a fragrant punch with its small star-shaped flowers, hence its name. Sophie’s grows this together with the Chilean Jasmine over the front doorway, and they are both members of the frangipani family. Star Jasmine are very versatile and can be grown over a topiary frame, on a trellis, as a ground cover, or even indoors if it has access to enough light.

New Guinea Bean | Lagenaria siceraria

It's not just ornamentals that are in the night scene. The New Guinea bean is in the bottle gourd family and produce long fruits with white flesh, and a flavour between zucchini and cucumber. Their white flowers open at night and emit a sweet fragrance to attract their nighttime pollinator, the hawk moth. This plant not only looks and smells good - it tastes good, too.

Cape Jasmine | Gardenia jasminoides ‘Florida’ *

Gardenias love acidic soils. This cultivar has beautifully scented semi-double blooms that appear in warmer months. Plant this in the centre of the pot to enjoy its height.

Star Jasmine | Trachelospermum asiaticum ‘Flat Mat’ *

This groundcover is perfect for a pot and can be planted towards the front, so it trails over the sides. It has dark green foliage and a crisp white star-shaped flower with a heavenly perfume.

Sweet Alice | Lobularia maritima

Perfect for edges, borders and trailing over pots, Alyssum or Sweet Alice gets its name for its wonderful fragrance. This plant is an annual though should self-seed in its pot.

* While Stephanotis, Mandevilla, Trachelospermum and Gardenia have "jasmine" as a common name; a "true" jasmine is from the genus Jasminum. Most Jasminum species are considered an environmental weed in Australia, so plant these instead to enjoy their impeccable beauty and scent, responsibly.

[formulatrash]

you are so smart, i always learn a lot from your reblogs/tags. thank you! i'm off to google the difference between a lichen and a moss.

haha I am actually not smart at all but I do watch a lot of YouTube - I'll put what I watched below but I know you don't do video so here's some articles I've been reading about lichen that I thought were interesting!

an overall explainer about lichen & its connection to air quality from the national park services

an article on The Scientist about new types of bacteria identified in lichen that might mean their guilds are even more complex than previously thought (needs a free, easy-to-opt-out-of-marketing signup)

you might need to sci-hub this but this scholarly article about the big questions we still need to answer about lichen, who they are and what they do is very accessibly written once you get past the paywall (remember it's always ethical to sci-hub academic articles because fuck academic journals)

I couldn't switch my brain off after work on whenever, maybe Monday, even though I was fucking knackered as hell and ended up watching this.

it's not the slickest or highest budget but it's from the University of Florida institute for Food and Agricultural studies and the guy explains what's going on with these weirdest possible things really well

further viewing: this Royal Botanic Gardens of Edinburgh video with 10 lichenologists talking about their favourite lichens is soooo wholesome and wonderful.

[artistictiana]

Male Texas Headcanons

Texas is the most diverse in geographical regions. He claims he is the south but he is too west for them. His siblings are the west but he isnt western enough to fit in that group. And he is too south to be apart of the midwest.

He looks like he cant lift a lot, but in reality he can lift more than people think.

During meetings, he is always found sleeping at the beginning due to the time zone and his armadillo nature.

Sleeps for 16 hours, but the eight hours he is awake, he is the most productive person.

Doesn't react much to anything anyone says unless he has a good reason to. This includes debates. He won't speak unless he has his facts straight.

Still strongly hates California since he believes she is a spoild brat. (In my au she most certainly is)

Only joined the Confederacy for two reasons.

Slavery (He now regrets his action but is to prideful to admit it)

And Dixie was the only one sending him help to deal with the natives. Otherwise he didnt do much to help the confederates.

Loves to hangout with the smaller states because he sees and treats them as his kids. He mainly does this with Arkansas since he sees her everyday. (Arkansas loves it)

His best friends are Florida, Arkansas and South Carolina from the south. New York, Rhode Island, Delaware, and Connecticut, from the New England states. And Wyoming, Hawaii, and Utah, from the west.

Frinemies with Alaska.

Likes to mess with Alaska's Malamute ears since Alaska touches his.

If you annoy him enough, he will take out his hearing aids so he cant hear you as good anymore.

BBQ's insects... Its apart of his diet... dont judge.

If he takes lunch to the meetings, he always brings a shit ton extra because people love his Tex-Mex food. Mainly the west and Florida.

Is AroAce.

He does have a small crush on someone but doesnt see them enough to make him pursue a relationship.

Who is that person? I dont know... *cough* *cough* Germany *cough* *cough*

Loves to drink any alcohol made in his state, in the south, and from Germany.

Loves to eat some of Louisiana's cooking.

If he is with Florida, he will somehow mysteriously get high.

Can dig holes for gardening or planting crops.

Will transform into an armadillo and roll into a ball if frightened. Its cute honestly.

Is actually very easy to frighten if he is sleep deprived or when he is not feeling okay and or drunk.

Yells at anyone who picks a Bluebonnet. Its against his state laws for a reason!

To know if he likes something someone makes, he wont say it, but just look for his wagging tail.

Secretly watches telenovelas

Only allows Gov, DC, Alaska and Arkansas to pet him if he is in his animal form.

[crevicedwelling]

Hellooo I had a question that was prompted by your id of a pill bug that lead to me wikipedia-ing the little guys (my favs). Are they not found natively in north america? Its hard to find concrete info without delving into scientific articles. I always assumed they were because they are everywhere around here. If they are not, what kinds of species fill their ecological niches?

there are many species of land isopod native to North America, but there’s plenty of reasons why they’re not as well known as the non-native sones.

in the US, from Texas to Florida and north to about the Carolinas there’s Porcellionides virgatus, likely comprising several species that haven’t yet been described. there are also several species of Venezillo throughout the southwestern deserts and parts of the southeast as well. Atlantoscia floridana, Rhyscotus texensis and a few others are also native to the southeast; Miktoniscus is a fairly widespread genus with a few species here and there on both coasts. that still leaves most of the northeast without any native isopods that I know of, which is where the temperate climate European species have been most successful.

tropical North America has a diversity of native isopods, with bizarre spiny delatorreids in the Caribbean, a lot of Venezillo everywhere, and a bunch of other forms besides. north of tropical forests though, few of the native species are as commonly encountered as the introduced ones perhaps because they have very small ranges where relatively few people live (desert sky island Venezillo, Porcellionides “Big Pine Key” is large &colorful but known only from that island), cannot thrive in human gardens like the European species can, and also just aren’t very conspicuous, with almost every species I named here being small and brown.

I haven’t yet read a study comparing European isopods’ ecological role in North America to any native species, but it’s a difficult question to based on what I know because terrestrial isopods are so widespread (there’s Armadillidium vulgare in as different habitats as Toronto and Phoenix) and many non-native isopods seem to prefer human-altered habitats, so there’s no easy “isopods replaced X” answer. native isopods, millipedes and other detritivores like beetle larvae and cockroaches still probably do today what they did before colonization, but with European isopods heaped on top, and likely outcompeting them where human activity has excluded native detritivores.

[authorscottycarter]

Being around Louis was easy, even if the two of them weren’t in their setting of choice. The drive to Florida was almost a full day’s journey, so they’d broken it up with a stop-off at a motel on their way. They’d shared driving responsibilities, and Scotty had given Lou full control over music by way of thanking him for the favour he was doing him.  

Despite the nerves that had been rattling through his bones, Scotty had thought it was nice getting to spend some one-on-one time with his old friend. While he still maintained that Louis Denver was the best friend he’d ever had, he knew the brunette across from him had been through a lot over the years that they’d known one another, and some things were next to impossible to move on from. Louis’ sudden departure back to Lowell all those years ago had gutted both Scotty and Cassie – it turned out that even when you thought you'd moved on from your mom abandoning you from a young age without so much as a backwards glance, life would be there to throw constant reminders at you that actually, no, you’re not over it. Still, they’d been persistent, both with Louis and Amelia, and hadn’t given up hope on their friends. 

All the same, some wounds never healed – or rather, with time, the flesh pieced itself back together again, clumsy and jagged, leaving gaping scars where the pain had once lived. Scotty knew that Louis loved them, he had no doubt about it, but time had changed them. It had ripped a hole in the fabric of their friendship, tiny habits shifting, traditions changing – minute details that Louis no doubt hadn’t noticed, but ones that Scotty held onto all the same. Lou’s Christmases were no longer spent at Lucy’s with her wife and kids as Scotty’s plus one, but down in Madison Square Garden with Max for the yearly Teddy Bear Toss. Easter Scavenger Hunts with Cassie had become a two-person outing, with Amelia lost to a bottle of Vodka, and Louis gorging on jelly beans with Joey.  

As it was, it had become a rare thing for the two of them to be able to enjoy some alone time together, which is why Scotty was making up for all that lost time by having a full breakdown in front of the mirror of their hotel room. 

“Have ties always been this difficult? Has it always been such a damn pain in the ass to get these things on?” Scotty grumbled, giving himself a once over as his fingers trembled over the fabric, eventually falling limp at his sides as he gave up. 

He spared Louis a glance, offering his friend a meek smile. The two of them still had half an hour to haul ass and get themselves downstairs, but at the rate Scotty was moving it was starting to look unlikely. When he’d asked Louis to accompany him to a wedding for the weekend, he thought that his friend’s presence would be all it took to put an end to his jitters. Both the ceremony and the reception were taking place in the same venue – their hotel room situated just several floors above their destination – and Louis had insisted that Scotty probably wouldn’t even see Indra, what with the sheer scale of the wedding they were attending. No doubt his ex – and her insanely handsome fiancé - would be lost in a sea of faces, but the potential of seeing her again after so long was starting to feel like a reality. 

Scotty liked to consider himself a relatively easy-going guy. Most people perceived him as fun-loving and amiable enough, but he’d never been fully on board with those descriptors. His anxiety had been diagnosed from a young age – not too long after his mom had left – and it tended to rear its ugly head more often than he cared to admit. When Louis and Amelia left, he’d tried his hardest not to take it personally, not to make it about himself; He loved and empathised with both of them, especially upon learning their circumstances, so he’d pushed his own feelings aside and focused his energy on creating safe spaces for his friends. And then Indra had come along and taught him what it was like to feel loved – truly loved, with no exceptions, and no fear of being left behind. Until she’d done exactly that, leaving him jilted and alone, once again wondering if he’d ever be good enough for anybody. 

How was he supposed to reconcile with not only seeing her again, but on the arm of a man she’d promised a future to? The same future she couldn’t offer him. 

“Maybe we shouldn’t go? I mean, I doubt I’d be missed," Scotty groaned, edging away from the mirror and throwing himself back down onto his bed, not caring if his suit crumpled in the process. ”And it’s Florida, we could literally do anything else, right?”