#Vertical gardening tips

[yardenercom]

The Ultimate Vertical Gardening Checklist 7 Must Know Tips Presentation

Learn the 7 must-know tips for successful vertical gardening, including the definition and benefits, types of vertical gardens, choosing plants, tools and materials, building your vertical garden, common problems and solutions, and creative ideas. Start your own vertical garden today and enjoy the benefits of growing your own plants in a space-efficient and beautiful way.

[cselandscapearchitect]

Providing Support for Sweet Peas: Elevate Your Garden's Beauty

Sweet peas, with their delicate tendrils and colorful blooms, bring a touch of elegance and fragrance to any garden. Freshly picked sweet peas As natural climbers, these charming flowers require proper support to thrive and display their full splendor. In this blog post, we will explore the importance of providing adequate support for sweet peas and discuss various creative and functional ways…

[the-fiction-witch]

Breathless

Media The Artful Dodger

Character Jack Dawkins

Couple Jack X Reader

Rating Flirty Af

Warning: Medical emergency / Asthma Attack

I woke, as I typically did with a sharp fast gasp. immediately I heard the wheeze in my chest like a pair of old moth-eaten bellows. I sighed and turned to my bedstand opening the little rosewood box and hearing the gentle tune of the music box inside plaid as soon as I opened it I grabbed one of the prerolled cigarettes shutting the box again and saw the candle on my bedside table still burning so I set the tip in the flame until it began to smoulder so I laid down on my back slowly but surely taking a deep inhale and blowing the resulting smoke across my ceiling. It fixed it as much as it ever did so I finished up and set the end in my little metal box with many others. 

"There's my sweet girl!" My father gleamed as he entered my bedroom with a wide smile 

"Good Morning Father," I smiled sitting up in my bed 

"It is a fantastic morning, A perfect morning for our party!" He cheered going to open my curtains to let in the sunshine 

I smiled as much as I could force, I knew this was important to him and I wanted only to be supportive. 

"I have a gift for you" He smiled tapping my nose playfully He clicked his fingers towards the door and the maid scurried in with a large box in hand, he took the box from her and set it on the bed opening the box up pulling out from the tissue and ribbon a sweet expensive new dress.

It was beautiful, A long off-the-shoulder dress of a sweet fabric a light pale pink with vertical strips of purple, and white lace at its hem, neckline and lace elbow-length sleeves with a black ribbon at its waist. It was utterly beautiful and would not have been cheap for my father to buy. but I began to panic as I looked at it seeing the ribbon and how small it was.  

I knew my father, he meant well but he always did this and always it made me fearful.

But I forced a smile "Thank you Father" I said giving his cheek a kiss 

"You're welcome, Now come along guests begin to arrive soon" He said rushing off to make preparations. 

I sighed climbing from my bed, I went and had a nice hot bath laying in the warm water for longer than I should just because it seemed to soothe my chest but I soon climbed out and went to my window in my towel looking out to the gardens.

My father was a very wealthy businessman in port with a lot of dealings coming and going in shipping, of course, our house was lustrous and grand second only to the governors only a few miles up the road, but the governor could not hold a candle to my father's gardens, well known in the area and beyond for the grandiose and beauty of the many exotic flowers and plants from all over the world, He took great pride in the garden and this combined with his utter love fort entertaining. Meant we had an awful lot of garden parties. 

Today was no exception my father was hosting a garden party and had invited everyone who could be imagined. He adored parties being an utter social butterfly, I however was more of an.... antisocial bookworm not much wanting to go but knowing word would spread if I didn't attend my father's own parties. It didn't much help my looming age knowing at the back of my mind certain men had been invited not due to my father really wanting them at the party but my father realizing they could be a good match for me so invited them in the hope one would catch my interest. But I know I am a very lucky girl, Many fathers would be insisting by now or would have wedded their daughter off for a business deal. But My father was a decent man and had always promised me I could choose my husband, that I could marry for love no matter who it would be. He felt he couldn't deny me what he and my mother had. 

I went to my mirror and began to dress, I pulled my white stockings up to my thighs adjusting them so the little lilac bows would sit forward, I pulled my long cotton underdress over my body tugging it down as far as it would go, by then my maid arrived and I gulped as she picked up my cream corset. I simply watched the mirror doing my best to not panic as she wrapped it around me and began to lace the back, I did my best to keep my breaths slow and steady but that wasn't exactly easy until finally she finished with the back, she pinned the ribbons in place and turned me to face her so she could pull the ribbons to the front to lace it again leaving me squeezed as much as possible 

"How much more?" I gasped already feeling breathless 

"Not much more Miss." she said "Pencil thin is the London style miss" She reassured

"I am not a pencil. I am a lady." I argued half of me was joking the other half was serious. 

Finally, she tied the last bow and removed the pin in the back as there was now no give in the ribbon at all, she took my crinoline the large wicker bird cage-looking thing that always made me smile a little tieing it simply around my waist and she helped me to slip on my dress, it was beautiful and I did feel very pretty even if again the lacing began as she all but sewed me into the dress ensuring it would be as close to me as possible. Not being helped by my father's purchase choices. 

"Alright miss?" she asked as she finished the last bow 

"Yes. Thank you" I lied, finally she helped me into my shoes and left to attend the party. "Women in London must have learnt not to need to breathe" I sighed I sat at my vanity and did what little make-up I bothered with before finally taking my hair from the tight braid I had done last night allowing it to now be in sweet curls. Once done I looked out to the window again seeing people had already gathered for the party so I grabbed my lace fan and my parasol and headed down to the gardens. 

"Ahhh My goodness an angel!" My father joked as he saw me "You look beautiful" He smiled 

"Thank you Father" I smiled 

"Go on then, Mingle I'll check in on you later," He told me ushering me deeper into the party, I did my rounds parasol in hand often batting my fan to try and get some air down my throat doing my best to greet and be pleasant with people. 

As I made the rounds I took note of those who were here already spotting a few men my father would have invited purely in the hopes of grabbing my attention but as I walked to a less populated area of the garden I took a seat for a moment on the stone bench I spotted a similar soul. 

He stood by one of the statues away from the main business of the party, dressed in his usual way but cleaned up a little better, he seemed awkward unsure why he was here, out of place in this bussle. I felt for him of course and for a moment even I wasn't sure why he was here. But then I recalled seeing Dr Sneed on my walk around the party and I know how my father thinks, my father would have invited Dr Sneed because he is his doctor and thus not inviting his own doctor to his party would be rude, and of course then in my fathers mind he must also invite Dr Dawkins for if he invited Sneed and Not Dawkins that too would have been rude. Honestly, I'm surprised he took up the invitation. For a moment we caught eyes and he offered me a small smile so I did my best to do so back. 

“You alright my sweet?’ my father asked as he approached sitting beside me

“Yes, just wanted a moment from all the excitement” I smiled

‘ahh well come along we are to begin the walk” he smiled to me taking my hand and soon enough the walk began, this was typical of every party my father would lead a walk around the gardens explaining almost every flower and plant giving a tour to the guests of course most ate it up but I slowly but surely slinked away until I was at the very back of the walk where I again found Dr Dawkins.

“Good day doctor”

“Good day miss y/l/n, does your father always do this?’

“Yes” I chuckled moving my parasol slightly higher as to protect him too

“AHH thank you” he smiled moving a little closer to be under the protection of the lace from the blistering sun

“Quite alright” I answered “what brings you to the party?”

“Your father invited me. Wasn't going to bother but something to do I suppose’ he chuckled

“I guess. I rather find it all tedious”

“well we agree on some things’ he chuckled “I have to admit though your dress is utterly stunning”

“Thank you doctor’ I blushed a little but had to fan myself quickly as I felt slightly breathless from the walking

“Ohh don't worry pleatenties of the party you can just call me jack” he smiled

“ohh that's very sweet, thank you jack’ I smiled “then y/n I insist”

“Why thank you, My god is he going to take us past every plant?” He whispered

“That he is” I smiled

“Any particular reason?’

‘its his pride. He adores his garden above all else?”

“Even you?’

“I don't know, I should hope not but I wouldn't be surprised’

“Why? Why would be focus so much on his garden and not his daughter?”

“He promised my other that her beloved garden would always bloom, she died only a few days later” I explained

“Ohh forgive me y/n I-”

“It's alright, he can be… overboard at times” I said doing my best to slow and catch my breath

“Are you alright?’ he asked

“Yes forgive me-”

“No no it's alright, are you sure? You seem lost for breath?’ he said carefully taking my arm

“I'm fine” I answered as I gasped trying hard not to wheeze or cry anything that might draw attention to myself he seemed panicked I tried again and gasp but it just wasn't working and I almost went over

“Whoa. I'm taking you inside’ he said quickly putting an arm around me and taking me quickly back to the house I dropped my parasol and fan as soon as I got in the door trying desperately to get my breath in “which way to your room?”

“This way” I gasped now beginning to cough and wheeze loudly taking his hand and leading him to my room as soon as I was inside I leant on my ottoman trying desperately to get some air into my lungs as he shut the door and came over

“Are you short of breath?”

“Yes” I gasped surely that was obvious

“try to breathe slow for me if you can” he asked and I did my best but that only made me wheeze louder

“Take off your dress.” He said

“I beg your pardon Dr Dawkins!’ I argued

“I need to examine you take off your dress” he said

“I cannot” I answered between gasps

“I'm a doctor I won't look y/n but I need to exmaine you” he said

“No I cannot. My maid she-”

“She's sewn you into the dress?” he asked and I nodded “alright” he said slipping off his jacket and grabbing a small knife from his pocket “I'll be as careful as I can” he said slowly using the blade to cut where my dress had been stitched by my maid until finally it released I quickly stepped away and pushed the dress off me as well as my crinoline immediately I felt a little better as I looked forward letting out slow breaths I caught sight of jack in my mirror he lied to me. He was looking. But I felt still so breathless that I tumbled onto my ottoman ‘whoa whoa! I got you. I got you.” He reassured only just catching me making me sit on the ottoman “I need to remove your corset”

“Doctor!”

“I have to remove it” he said coming to face me starting to unlace my corset ties quickly with his nimble fingers “out of curiosity. How'd your mother die?”

“Respiratory failure” I gasped and he looked up to me seeming panicked

“How old was she?”

“Twenty nine”

“Christ - for - god-” he grunted trying to deal with the knots and loops and ties in my corset until finally he unlaced the front and tried to pull it off but of course it didn't move he looked confused so I moved his hand to my back and he moved behind me seeing of course all the lacing on the back ‘oh you gotta be kidding me!’ he complained “they really didn't want you of this dress.’ he said fighting with the ties before “fuck it!’ he complained grabbing his knife again and cutting though the lacing managing to force the whole corset off me and that helped considerably “there we go.” He said a lift proud of himself “nice and slow let me listen” he said for a moment looking around the room clearly for something to use to listen but “I don't have my tools uhhh okay. Guess we have to do this the old fashioned way” he said sitting on the ottoman with me lifting my underdress up to expose my bare back I glanced in the mirror again and saw his cheeks slightly deeper with red his eyes glancing down from my neck all the way to the ottoman before he moved closer resting his head on my back to press his ear to my skin “nice and slow for me. Just breathe with me In. And out. In and back out” he said and I did my best to breath with him even if I ended up coughing and wheezing as he walked me through a few long breaths “how long have you been like this?” He asked as he pulled back moving so I could see his face letting go of my underdress

“Forever”

“I get the feeling you need to tell me something.” He said

“I'm asthmatic. Have been as long as I can remember.” I answered

“That certainly explains a lot” he said “when did a doctor tell you?”

“I was nine.”

“I take it your mother was too?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, how are you managing it? What do you have to take when you get like this?” He asked

“The box on my bedside table” I told him still struggling he got up and went to the box seeming confused

“What are these?”

“Asthma cigarettes. Prof prescribed them” I answered

“You smoke!’ he argued

“On doctors instructions yes.” I answered

“Are you mad!”

“There not tobacco there thorn apple leaves there meant to help” I said

He sighed begrudgingly bringing one over so I took it and lit it on a candle sitting for a few moments slowly inhaling it all

He brushed the smoke away from his face a moment before rather angrily speaking “he's mad.”

“It helps.”

“So would you sitting not moving for the ten minutes it took you to smoke that” he argued “but that dress wasn't helping in the slightest why on earth did they lace you in that corset so much?”

“It's the style apparently. Plus I needed to”

“Why?”

“...father buys all my dresses two sizes smaller then I am. I have to double lace the corset for a hope of even getting in them

“Why would he do that?”

“He means well. He thinks if he buys all my clothes too small it's… encouraging”

“Encouraging? I hate to ask but when did you last eat anything?”

“...four days ago.”

“Okay, that is also not going to be helping.” He said

“Yeah well you try fitting into a dress with a twenty one inch waist” I pouted

“I think he's trying to kill you.” He joked “you feel a bit better now?”

“Yes. Thank you jack”

“You're welcome. How often do you get attacks like that?”

“once a week or so.”

“Does your father know?”

“Somewhat. I don't always tell him the whole truth”

“Would you be against coming to the hospital?”

“What?”

“I am not confident about leaving you alone tonight. If you agree I'll talk to your father take you to the hospital I'll keep you under observation myself.”

“Why?”

“.... I fear this may be worse then just a simple attack y/n”

“I don't want to worry my father. he's fearful enough as it is”

“Then which would you rather? He be a little worried a stressed as you spend the night in hospital in my care or he comes in here and finds you dead in your bed tomorrow morning because I'm pretty sure which one will upset him more.”

“One night?”

“One night. Under observation.”

“Alright jack”

“Thank you y/n” he smiled giving my hand a kiss “just rest i'll go see your father” he said as he got up and headed out of my room.

Eventually he arrived with my father in tow and the two discussed as my maid packed me some items and my father called us a carriage, I changed into my loosest dress doing my best not to show my father my struggles

“Perhaps Dr sneed would be better he is my doctor he's taken such food care of me” he began

“Dr sneed is very busy he won't have time and what she needs is observations now I have the time to do so”

“Keep me posted won't you?”

“I promise.”

“You'll take care of her doctor?”

“Absolutely, I promise she'll be back right as rain”

“Alright, I'll see you soon sweetheart” he smiled kissing my head before he slowly and tenderly let my hand go giving it to jack, he smiled to me squeezing my hand and leading me slowly to the carriage luckily the party never even noticed but as i sat down my father pulled jack close to him. “Anything happens to her. It's your head.”

“Yes sir” he nodded before climbing into the carriage with me.

[octuscle]

Hi, im a 19 yo nerd, yesterday some kids wre playing with a soccer ball in front of my house, the ball got into the garden of my house and when i threw it out, i didnt nlticed i threw it a bit far and it arrived into the house across the street, breaking a window, the neighbor, a single man, came to my house and told my parents what i did, he demands i repair the window by myself, i dont know how to do that, can you give me a little help?

First of all, you do what you do best. You sit down at your computer. Enter "repair soccer window" into Google. A lot of things come up that won't help you at all. Care tips for footballs. And advertisements for household contents and liability insurance. The soccer care thing doesn't look very helpful, but it might be interesting.

Shit, you can waste a lot of time on the Internet very quickly. After half an hour, you're back to the current and upcoming match day in the Premier League. But you still don't know anything about repairing windows. "Repairing windows". Perhaps it would help to remove soccer from the search query. It doesn't matter why the window is broken. It just needs to be repaired.

Now we're getting closer to the point. Lots of tutorials on youtube. Surely there's something there. Unfortunately, you don't even know what kind of window is broken. And what exactly is broken. Damn, just how many different types of window panes there are. You can find an article about German windows. They have a lot of damn cool features. I wonder if that would be a market to sell and install German ones here. What this tilt function is supposed to do is still not clear to you. But these shutters on the windows are hot shit. You'd like to install something like that at your parents' house.

You're guaranteed not to install something from Schüco for a few thousand dollars in your neighbor's house… You're assuming that your neighbor will have vertical sliding windows in most of the rooms, just like you do. Probably made of aluminum. A shame, really. Horizontal sliding windows made of wood with glazing bars would fit the character of the house much better.

Haven't you ever worked for your neighbor? You must still have plans and views from the street side. Or at least a photo. Yes, here. Where were you standing again? How hard did you throw the ball? What was the wind like? Just because you did an apprenticeship as a carpenter doesn't mean you're stupid. So it's probably the window of the study on the second floor. Yes, it must have been rotten, you can see that quite clearly in the photo. Just replacing the glass won't help much.

Nowadays, working on the computer is half the battle. Calculating material requirements, programming saws for cutting. And downloading some porn in between. Hehehe, unlike your father, you don't need to hang up raunchy calendars in the workshop anymore. Your father is hardly ever seen here anyway. It's no longer his world. In his day, a carpenter needed a hammer and a saw, he used to say. Old man, those days are long gone.

Before you start, you went to your neighbor's house across the street. Real life is sometimes more reliable than virtual life. But it was the right window, you measured it again with your laser measuring device. You had miscalculated by a few millimeters. You are a craftsman with passion and dedication. You don't mess around. You deliver precision work.

"Mr. T, better than before my throw," you say with a grin. But it's the pure truth. But you know exactly why your neighbor insisted that you carry out the repair. He'll do anything to get you to fix things in his house. And when no more chairs tip over and no more doors squeak, you'll take care of Mr. T. yourself.

He asks if you can have a look at the shower after the window. While you take off your dungarees, you say that you are a carpenter and not a plumber. You will probably need help. You don't have to ask Mr. T for long.

[st7rnioioss]

i’m having not so christian, holy, very unholy thoughts right now everybody

no lube, no protection, all night, all day, from the kitchen floor to the toilet seat, from the bathroom sink to the shower, from the front porch to the balcony, vertically, horizontally, quadratic, exponential, logarithmic, while I gasp for air, scream, and see the light, missionary, cowgirl, reverse cowgirl, doggy, backwards, sideways, upside down, on the floor, in the bed, on the couch, on a chair, being carrier, against the wall, outside, in a train, on a plane, in the car, on a motorcycle, on the back of a truck, on a trampoline, in a bounce, in the pool, in the garden, bent over, in the basement, against the window, having the most toe curling, back arching, leg shaking, dick throbbing, fist clenching, era ringing, mouth drooling, ass clenching, nose sniffing, eye watering, eye rolling, hip thrusting, earthquaking, sheet gripping, knuckles cracking, jaw dropping, hair pulling, teeth jitterbug, mind blogging, soul snatching, overstimulating, vile, sloppy, moan introducing, heart wrenching, spine tingling, back breaking, atrocious, gushy, creamy, beastly, lip biting, gravity defying, nail biting, sweaty, feet kicking, mind blowing, body shivering, orgasmic, bone breaking, world ending, black hole creating, universe destroying, devious, scrumptious, amazing, delightful, delectable, unbelievable, body numbing, bark worthy, can't walk, head nodding, soul evaporating, volcano erupting, sweat rolling, voice cracking, trembling, sheets soaked, hair drenched, flabbergasting, lip locking, skin peeling, eye widening, pussy popping, nail scratching, back cuts, spectacular, brain cell devolving, hair ripping, show stopping, magnificent, unique, extraordinary, splendid, phenomenal, mouth foaming, heavenly, awakening, mind spasming, over the desk, under the table, in the plane, in a birthday party, till he creates a dent in my cervix, till my lips deform (both), till my cervix is the shape of his tip, till the bed breaks and we continue on the floor, till his name is my only vocabulary, till every bone in my body breaks, till all the cum is inside me filling my up like a croissant with cream cheese, till the epidermis of my skin tears, till the whole neighbourhood knows what our names are, till police handcuffs us and puts us in different cells, till the inmates complain about us touching ourselves and moaning each others names across the jail, till we are sent into an asylum and resume our session there, till the psychiatrist gives up and watches us in defeat, till i get pregnant and give birth while still doing him, till he gives me his last thrust and last pump

[inoreuct]

Since it’s spooky season, may I request a demon Sanji offering Zoro some food?

i was supposed to post this for friday the 13th, but it got way more dramatic than i planned… thank you for the ask!

Y’know, when Sanji became a demon, he hadn’t expected to have to deal with moss infestations. 

He is aware that that sounds rather ridiculous and makes little to no sense. The long and short of it is, he got himself cursed. Dumb, yes, he’s aware of that too, but how was he supposed to have known that the rare herb garden he’d stepped into was guarded by a territorial (and rather unhinged, in his humble opinion) occultist?

But as far as curses go, this one really isn’t so bad. Sanji had just sort of… accepted it, after a while, and it certainly hadn’t hurt that the whole becoming a demon gig came with its own massive underworld castle filled with invisible servants. He shudders, peering into a mirror and brushing an invisible speck of dust from his horns. He could have been turned into a goat, or something. How the hell would he cook if he was a goat?

Back to the topic at hand, he has a visitor. A human, of all things! Wandering about the underworld! Sanji’s scrying bowl had offered him a view of short green hair and three swords hanging from a belt, and honestly? He doesn’t know what to make of it, and now the man is hovering in his entryway, poking at a 6th century vase that Sanji is fairly sure holds some Roman emperor’s dead body. He checks his reflection one last time, sucking at his teeth before he phases into shadow, hovering just outside the edges of the foyer. The flames of the candelabra flicker in an invisible wind and the man whip his head around, looking for a threat that isn’t there— 

And Sanji coalesces right behind him. “Hello, little huma— Ack!” A sword swings for his neck in the space of a breath and he leans back on instinct, not putting much effort into it—

The tip nicks his throat and draws blood.

Sanji’s eyes go wide. Oh, this just got interesting.

Regular blades can’t hurt him. Can’t even touch him; they pass right through his form like he’s made of liquid shadow, but he feels this cut. The faint sting, the hot trickle over his tendons, the smell of his own blood thick in the air. He hadn’t even heard the sword unsheathe.

The man is backing away, eyes wild; Sanji huffs a laugh and melts into the shadow again, reappearing just in time for the man to bump into him with a loud swear. Sanji needs to stop calling him The Man. “What’s your name?”

The Man scowls as he holds his sword ready, and it pulls at the vertical scar over his left eye. “Like hell I’ll tell you. I’m not gonna let you use me for whatever— witchy shit you wanna do.”

Sanji raises an unimpressed brow. “First of all, I’m a demon, not a witch. And second, it doesn’t work like that. You need my name for spells and such.” 

“Which is?”

“Now why would I tell you?” He grins, sharp and sweet like the song of a blade through the air. “You’ll know mine when I know yours, Marimo.”

“Marimo?” his visitor scoffs, and Sanji shrugs with a genial smile even as Marimo bristles. Better than The Man. 

He turns around, gliding through the foyer more for the sake of having something to do than actually trying to go anywhere, and of course Marimo follows. “Don’t you have anywhere else to be?” he sighs, side-eyeing the man as he squints warily at a bust of some sort of cat with seven eyes. 

“Nope.”

“What’s the deal, then? A human all the way down here? Hell isn’t exactly the most popular vacation spot, y’know.” Sanji pauses and gives a pointed look to the weapon that had drawn his blood. “And that is not a normal sword.” 

Marimo’s eyebrows twitch, the only sign Sanji gets that he’s surprised. “Cursed blade,” the man grumbles, rubbing a thumb over the hilt. “And I’m looking for someone.”

“…In Hell.” Sanji’s skeptical.

“My best friend got himself kicked through a portal, alright?” Marimo protests, lip curling in irritation. 

“Ha! Good luck with that,” Sanji huffs, walking again. “Nobody new’s been down here except—” Wait. He spins on his heel, and Marimo narrows his eyes suspiciously. “Dark hair, chatty as anything, about… yea high?” he asks, lifting his hand as an estimate, and he lurches back when Marimo leans all up in his face with his eyes like sharp granite.

“You know something.”

“One of my… acquaintances said something about it, yes.” Mihawk had mentioned a guy suddenly popping up. Monkey something-or-other. Loofah? He opens his mouth to speak right as he hears an odd growl, and Marimo pulls back with the tips of his ears turning red. A huff of a laugh slips out without Sanji’s permission. “Alright, come on,” he decides, creating a shadow door and waiting for the other man to follow. “Can’t find your friend on an empty stomach.” 

They walk straight into the kitchen, and Sanji gets to work whipping up a plate of omurice. He was a chef before, and he still is one; he’ll feed anyone who’s hungry. He might not be human or alive (or is he? He still isn’t sure) anymore but he refuses to let go of the values that he’d lived and breathed by, no matter how… questionable his unexpected guest may be.

He is done in a matter of minutes. “Eat.” The plate scrapes as he slides it across the countertop with cutlery, but Marimo just glares. “What? Don’t like eggs?”

“Isn’t there some rule about getting trapped here if you eat?” 

Sanji resists the urge to roll his eyes, because Hell’s bells, this man is stubborn. “Look, that’s all bullshit, alright? Eat, or I’ll make you. This is the only place around for leagues that has food you could possibly digest. Or would you rather go hunt for elephant scorpions?”

The man recoils. “The fuck are those?”

“You don’t wanna know.” He nudges the fork and spoon closer, crossing his arms with an expectant eyebrow.

Marimo raises one right back, but he hesitantly picks up the cutlery and digs in. “…So you eat human food,” he mutters after a while, and Sanji looks up from where he’s washing the dishes.

“Yes? Why wouldn’t I?”

“Dunno,” the other man muses, taking another bite. The dim light of the wall sconces makes his three golden earrings gleam, highlighting the gnarly scar across his chest. “What with the whole demon thing.”

“Not all of us have a taste for mortal flesh,” Sanji sniffs, examining his cuticles coolly before getting back to scrubbing. 

He’s feeling a little strange. Maybe it’s the human interaction after so long of being down here with just his invisible friends and other demons for company, but it’s making something hurt right behind his ribs, where his heart beats more slowly than it has any right to. He’d missed this. Cooking for someone else. Banter. Companionship. 

He takes a shaky breath and plunges his hands into the water, grabbing a frying pan and scouring it viciously. No use reminiscing and chasing pipe dreams. 

“Oi.”

Marimo’s voice catches his attention, and he rinses the sponge. “Hm?”

“How’s the—?” The man gestures vaguely to his neck, and Sanji’s fingers fly up to his throat to feel for the cut.

“Oh, that.” It’s already mostly healed, and he tilts his jaw to the side to show it. “S’fine. See?”

Marimo grunts, turning back to the last bites of his food. “Sorry.”

Sanji stills, something wild flaring hot in his ribcage before he mentally wrangles it into submission. He wouldn’t have expected an apology from anyone— much less this man. “It’s no big deal.”

“Still,” Marimo says gruffly, sliding the plate back over, the ceramic scraped clean. “And thanks.” He blinks for a second before nodding to the empty plate, as if it isn’t clear enough. “For the food.”

What the fuck. Sanji takes it, feeling like he’s in a bit of a daze. Marimo had seemed like a bit of a brute at first, with his scars and his close-cropped hair and his physique and the stupid shirt that was open halfway down his damn chest (Sanji, don’t look, it doesn’t matter how many muscles he has), not to mention the three swords. He’s bullheaded but obviously skilled, and— who the Hell is this guy? 

“Who sent you,” Sanji breathes as he sets the plate down, something sinking in the pit of his gut. He readies one hand behind his back. There has to be a catch.

Marimo frowns. “Nobody sent me, I told you I’m looking for my—”

He lunges. His claws are around the man’s neck in less than a second, digging up into the soft part of his throat. Marimo’s Adam’s apple bobs against the pad of his thumb. “Who sent you,” he hisses again, and it comes out less steady than he likes.

Sanji doesn’t know why he’s affected. It shouldn’t matter. It doesn’t matter. He has not fallen so far that the thought of this small bit of— of courtesy, of company, being a farce should feel like such a betrayal. 

So why does it?

He tightens his grip, gaze boring into eyes that have gone granite-dark in the low light, and yet Marimo does not pull away. The man tips his chin up, allows the point of Sanji’s claw to dig just beneath his trachea. “Nobody sent me,” he repeats evenly, chest rising and falling with his breaths, and Sanji holds back a snarl. He has been alone for too long for some human to come waltzing in and fucking up his life with— whatever this is, only for him to get butthurt because it wasn’t real. It’s not even that big of a deal and he feels fucking ridiculous. 

“If you’re lying—”

“I’m not.” 

And it seems like he really isn’t. Marimo’s pulse is rock steady, his gaze unflinchingly neutral, tracking Sanji across the room even as the demon slowly pulls away. 

“I’m sorry,” Sanji mutters, leaning back against the sink and pressing a hand over his eyes with a tired exhale. “I apologise, I— I lost myself.” 

“S’okay,” Marimo says cautiously. His swords clatter against each other as he stands and pushes the stool in with his knee. “I should… get going.”

“Yeah.” Taking a deep breath, Sanji shakes his head a little and smoothes his hands over the front of his blouse. He snaps his fingers, and a shadow door materialises in front of the other man. “This will take you to the acquaintance I was talking about, Mihawk. He’s your best bet at finding— What’s his name?”

“Luffy.”

“Luffy. Right.” 

Marimo hesitates, and Sanji feels like something’s gotten caught in his throat. 

“It gets lonely here, doesn’t it?” the other man asks abruptly, turning to face Sanji properly.

He swallows. “…Sometimes,” he concedes, keeping his tone light. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

Marimo gives an aborted jerk of his head, like he hadn’t been able to decide whether to nod or not. “Luffy’s appetite is crazy. He’ll be hungry when I find him.”

Sanji can’t help but laugh. It seems to be becoming a recurring problem. “You asking if I’ll feed him?” 

“Yeah. Because I think you’ll say yes.” 

A smirk pulls at Sanji’s mouth, and he lets it lean sharp. “Do you have a death wish, planning to come back to a demon’s castle?”

“Maybe,” Zoro mutters, but he matches Sanji’s expression tooth for tooth. “But the food’s good, and the company’s… decent.”

Sanji really does roll his eyes this time. Unbelievable. “You’ve got some nerve, Marimo.”

“Zoro.”

Zoro. It echoes around in his skull, sets something sparking up under his skin. “Zoro,” he tries, cocking his head before he nods to the shadow door. “Get going, idiot. That isn’t going to stay open forever.”

Zoro takes a step backwards. “You haven’t told me your name.”

Sanji purses his lips to hide his chuckle. “Come back with Luffy, and maybe you’ll find out.” 

The last thing he sees is the swordsman’s grin before the door dissolves, leaving him alone in his kitchen with a feeling in his chest that he hasn’t felt for ages. Fuck, this Zoro is trouble.

Sanji drags his hands over his face and groans, but he’s smiling. 

All he does in this damn castle is laze around and cook for himself. If it means cooking for someone else, and decent company… Well, a little trouble couldn’t hurt.

[monstersandmaw]

A Star in the Dark - A retelling of the Minotaur of Crete story (m. minotaur x f. character, 3rd person, Chpt. 1, sfw)

Since there was some interest on Discord in seeing this WIP, here is chapter one in its entirety for Patreon supports of all tiers. 

Content: A young woman is given by her parents to be sacrificed to the monster in the labyrinth, and finds that maybe there's more to the Minotaur than she'd been led to believe. Passing mention of the death of a close friend in the past, and the practice of human sacrifice to the gods. 

Wordcount: 4161

Looking forward to your thoughts on this one! I'll probably put the whole story up on Tumblr at some point in the future, and so far I've got two and a half chapters, plus a few snippets, written. 

A salt-fresh wind swept in off the sea and set the flames of a hundred bronze braziers dancing across the flagstones in the fading light.

Those small fires guttered and roared in the gusting wind, and the young woman’s grim pretence at courage wavered. Ahead of her on a wide, half-moon platform that stretched like a stage devoid of all its players, seven shallow steps led down into the earth.

The walls of the narrowing staircase were faced in smooth, pale masonry, and the downward path seemingly ended at a sheer, vertical wall facing the steps, with no door or entryway onwards. Instead, the end of her journey would begin at the square of utter darkness that waited in the floor where an eighth step would have been, gaping and blank like the maw of a newly dug grave.

Barefoot, the grit beneath the soft soles of her feet dug into her skin, and the same wind that made the flames dance pulled at the folds of her undyed, linen peplos to send undulating ripples through the thin fabric. Goosebumps prickled along her arms and legs. The gold bracelets that adorned wrist and ankle did nothing to warm her and the wind snuck its fingers into the elaborate coils of her long, dark hair, unwinding them and freeing them from the golden net that had held them all in place.

She’d been made up to look like a bride, but instead of a wedding, she walked through the pageantry of her own funeral. She wished bitterly that those coils of hair atop her head would turn to snakes and strike at the two men walking three, silent paces behind her with their bronze spear tips levelled at the small of her spine.

Overhead, a line of ochre-red smeared across the sunset sky like a bloody finger painting, and the copper disc of the sun stained the sea a dark, murex purple as dusk gathered around the cliff-top palace, and her last moments in the light of Helios drew to a close.

The monumental limestone masonry of the royal palace shone out of the dusk like pale bone, and a woman with a kithara wailed shrilly to the insistent beat of seven great drums, their rhythm a second heartbeat in her ears.

Incense, thick and cloying, twisted through the air from the braziers and it burned her throat and lungs and made her eyes water as she passed them. She blinked away the tears that formed; they were not for these people, and she would not let them see her afraid. Behind the incense, the faint scent of jasmine and honeysuckle floated past her from a distant palace garden that she would never see.

Upon the top step of seven, she faltered to a halt, shaking despite her desire to be brave; to bear the humiliation with stoic dignity. Hurt and grief curdled inside her with the last of her sputtering courage, and on impulse, she turned sharply to look back over the gathered folds of material at her shoulder, dark eyes wide and glassy with terror. The searing lance of betrayal that had been broken off somewhere in her ribs was now lodged there forever.

There, among the onlookers, she could see her stoop-shouldered father, with his wildly curly hair blowing around his head, and his tanned skin like leather after so many years under the fierce Cretan sun, his hands rough and strong and always gentle. He’d shown her how to hold a chisel and a mallet, how to split seasoned timber with wedge, mallet, and axe, how to pull the draw-knife across its surface, how to use a lathe to turn wood, and how to cut the joints in a chair so they would fit together perfectly. He’d even shown her how to carve winged sirens into the prows of the new ships and how to tease the shape of a spoon out of a section of wood without slicing her own thumb off.

She’d played in the shipwrights’ yard since she’d been old enough to toddle away from her mother and bring her father his midday meal. She’d laughed and learned along with the apprentices, outshining some and learning from others, until the day she’d nearly lost her index finger to the careless stroke of a chisel, and her mother had called her back to the house to spin and weave instead. In the wavering light of the braziers that lined the short path to her own personal Tartarus, she glanced down at the pale scar in her sun-bronzed skin and ran the pad of her left thumb over the silver line at the knuckle of her index finger where sensation existed only in her memory.

She willed that numbness to bloom out across her body, but her pain burned too brightly and too hot to be doused, and she ground her teeth. Her father couldn’t meet his daughter’s dark eyes across the empty stretch of gritty ground between them, but her mother held her gaze, unflinching.

The music seemed to fade as mother and daughter stood locked in distant, grim, resentful silence.

King Minos and Queen Pasiphaë stood on a raised dais somewhere off to her right, wreathed in embroidered, purple silks and dripping with gold, but she had no eyes nor time for them. It was because of the conceit and hubris of King Minos that she was being sacrificed to the monster below the palace, and because her mother had refused to take a ship and sail away with her that she was standing there now.

Cold, hard eyes spoke only of the desire for her daughter not to shame her. To go with dignity to a death that was, after all, to honour Poseidon. Of course, her parents would be well compensated by the king for their ‘gift’, but as all the misty possibilities along the path of her life were snuffed out like so many tiny candles, she couldn’t muster anything but contempt for her parents.

“I’m your daughter!” she yelled at her mother, her voice cracking as she fought the urge to double over against the pain. The agony of their betrayal clutched and clawed at her insides, the imaginary blade twisting deeper. “How could you? I’m your daughter!”

She hardly recognised her mild-mannered father as he just lowered his gaze to stare at the stones beneath his sandals. Beside him, her mother just kept on staring, her face like a statue at a shrine to discipline.

“I’m your daughter,” she whispered, the words inaudible to all but the two guards who began to steer and poke her down the steps like a cow to slaughter. “That’s all I am to you people,” she said, the words lost. “I’m not even human.”

The men exchanged a look as they neared the end of the stairs, but she couldn’t read it; couldn’t think.

She was about to die, to be torn to bloody shreds by teeth and monstrous hands, perhaps impaled on the horns of the bull-headed monster that rampaged below the palace, foaming and furious in his own imprisonment, and all while they held their stately banquet above and congratulated themselves on their own cleverness for appeasing Poseidon with a little virgin’s blood. And all for an insult dealt to the god almost three decades ago.

Well, at least she wasn’t a virgin.

Would the monster know? Would Poseidon care? Would the god even notice when the thread of her life was cut?

At an impatient flick of the king’s fingers, the two guards stepped forward as one. Their glinting, bronze spear points finally made contact and jabbed through the fabric at her hips, pricking two bloody points in the skin that bloomed like red eyes in the pale linen. She felt nothing. Her heel missed the lip of the opening into the earth, and she toppled backwards with a wordless shriek. Her arms and limbs flailed, and the shadows of the labyrinth reached up and consumed her.

She had promised herself she wouldn’t scream.

When she’d sat in the painted chamber in the royal palace, its walls adorned with lurid frescoes of figures leaping bulls and topless women emptying black amphorae into channels in the earth that had made her think of the runnels of blood in a butcher’s shop; when her hair had been combed and oiled and placed in its glinting net; when she’d had perfumed oil dabbed at the hollow of her throat, the inside of her wrists, onto her nipples, and, especially repulsive to her racing imagination, down between her legs; when she’d been told it was an honour to be deemed a worthy sacrifice to the monster stalking in his unending paths of dark nightmare: she had made an oath to herself that she would not scream. She would shame them with her silence. One last act of defiance.

Yet as she plunged backwards through the rush of foetid black emptiness, she screamed long and loud.

The sound tore itself free from her throat, raw and ringing in her ears as she plummeted down and down and down through the darkness that filled the shaft. The sky became a square of distant starlight that diminished as she fell.

You can read the whole 4k word chapter on Patreon right now for just $3, or for $5 you can have access to everything pre-2020, plus an additional, exclusive monthly story and lifetime membership to our chill Discord server.

[disabled-dragoon]

Gardening with A Disability

Everyone answering my gardening questions has been so helpful and kind. It's made me feel a lot better than when I started the week, but I've reached a point where I'm getting quite a bit of advice thrown at me all at once and it's getting difficult to keep track of it all, so I'm going to note it all down here!

Recommended Plants:

Mint, Tomatoes (Regular, Cherry), Cucumber, Radishes, Strawberries, Peppers. Aubergines, Potatoes, Squash, Lettuces, Chard (Swiss), Beets, Spring Onions, Garlic, French Beans (Specifically Dwarf French), Carrots, Kale, Spinach, Onion, Celery, Bush Beans, Blueberries, Bok Choy, Zucchini, Edible Flowers, Sunflowers, Green Beans, Currants, Lavender, Thyme, Rosemary, Oregano, Sage

Methods:

Fabric Pots

Raised Beds* I was pointed towards Vego garden beds as a starting point. They are quite expensive but I think it's still worth a look to see what you might consider with raised beds.

Trellises

Gallon Buckets

Grow bags in inflatable kiddie pools with a few holes drilled inches from the bottom

Bottomless Pots

Grow Tents and Greenhouses

Nursery Plants

Vertical Grow Towers* Was helpfully linked to this site.

Soil and hay bales

Soaker hoses on the topsoil of small raised beds

Grow bags in bins or on low tables, in 1-2 inches of water

Using a grabber to weed

Long handled tools

Things to Note:

Someone recommended if growing potatoes not to do them in pots as you generally have to lift the pot and tip it over to harvest them.

You can specifically get "container-sized" varieties of plants.

If looking into growing squash and cucumber in pots, look for "bush" varieties, or get "short and wide" trellises for the vines so they're not on the floor.

Big pots for aubergines.

Vertical grow towers are useful because they spin and you can adjust the height, but the price is a bit expensive.

Peppers and aubergines do well in 4-5 gallon buckets.

Cherry tomatoes, cucumbers and potatoes do well in 5 gallon buckets. You can grow blueberries in 5 gallons as well if they are of a "bush" variety

Bush beans do well in window boxes.

You can grow beets in window boxes but they might not get as big.

Strawberries grow well in 1-2 gallon buckets, and can be rooted into other buckets for more plants.

Bok Choy grows great in 2-3 gallon buckets and a "slightly shady" spot.

Containers need more consistent watering and fertilizer than ground plants.

"Lettuce in a “cut and come again” variety should be pretty easy to maintain but do prefer cooler weather".

Apparently immature sunflower heads are edible.

Thyme, rosemary, oregano and sage don't need much watering. Neither does lavender if outside.

Get a bag of soil specifically for container growing.

Buy already established plants and put them in containers larger than maybe necessary.

[yardenercom]

The Ultimate Vertical Gardening Checklist 7 Must Know Tips Infographic

Learn the 7 must-know tips for successful vertical gardening, including the definition and benefits, types of vertical gardens, choosing plants, tools and materials, building your vertical garden, common problems and solutions, and creative ideas. Start your own vertical garden today and enjoy the benefits of growing your own plants in a space-efficient and beautiful way.

Visit www.yardener.com for more similar contents

[heliacalxrising]

Lucifer's Look (headcanons by Hardy/do not reblog)

Garden Era:

First off, his wings shimmered; the undersides were beautiful shades of pink, while the white feathers were threaded with silver, and they glittered as if covered in the finest powder. Any feathers that were dropped during a molt or plucked directly were warm to the touch, and they glowed like the sun.

Lucifer's irises used to be golden with flecks of pink.

His robes were silvery white and hemmed with pink. His halo was a vibrant orange, like a sunrise.

He was the prettiest angel in Heaven, God's favorite, the Morning Star. He was quite literally modeled for the dawn.

Current Era:

His wings are slightly crooked due to breaking them in the Fall. Lucifer used himself as a body shield to protect Lilith, and his wings took the brunt of the collision; a couple of the joints are still a bit wonky, and his two bigger wings are slightly bent at the base where they come from his back. The pain was so horrendous he thought they had been ripped right from his body, and they can still become inflamed every now and again.

There are a few bald patches from where he had ripped his feathers out due to panic attacks.

His arms are black, from just past his elbows to the tips of his fingers, an added reminder of the Fruit he had offered Eve. It burned his skin from the overwhelming power within it, a price he had been happy to pay before he realized his mistake.

He has claws and they're partially retractable, so they look like very sharp nails. They can grow with just a thought and can cause immense damage if given the chance.

He has goat hooves instead of feet, as part of his demonic transformation. The hooves themselves are black, and he has fur covering them like a Shetland pony, but the fur is a dark red, to match his horns.

When he's frightened, his irises and pupils slit horizontally like a goat's; when angry, they slit vertically, like a snakes.

His fangs are extremely sharp, he can bite through muscle like it's butter.

His tongue is forked, and very long. It's the only thing about himself that he likes.

Demonic Form:

Similar to what we've seen on the show; his eyes glow crimson, his horns and tail have manifested and his halo twists and forms a ball of fire that he can conjure and manipulate. His coattails will also reveal his additional eyes. Small but mighty.

His claws are completely out, curved like talons.

Angelic Form:

Not quite Eldrich Horror but extremely close.

Taller than Everest in this form. I'm talking massive.

Vaguely humanoid in body shape, but absolutely covered in orange and red flames.

All six of his wings are covered in eyes with slit pupils like a snake's. Two of them cover his face, which is just...indescribable. It's constantly shifting like black smoke, with glimpses of animalistic features, and the only things you can see are four glowing crimson eyes, and a mouth that can split open like the Demogorgon. His neck is also abnormally long, and he can twist his head 360 degrees.

His hooves remain, but they're made of a steel like material that can crush cement with scarcely any effort.

His tail becomes a live snake, black to the color, with eyes all the way down it's back. It breathes blue fire and the venom is so potent that it can exhale a gas and kill anyone in it's path up to twenty yards.

[ask-the-deathworlders]

As some of you might have heard, a new planet has joined the council. Now why am I bringing up the new planet? Because, as it turns out, there's a previosly unknown city there that is mostly populated by humans who have been living there for at least five generations.

My friends and I got the chance to meet many of them ourselves as semi ambassadors. Ambassador feels like a strong word though. Mostly we were chosen to make a good impression for the council as our crew is 80% human.

They spoke in a dilect of english that my friends haven't heard before, but were luckily able to understand most of it after a couple of days.

They have established trade with the nearby cities and are seen as their own nation, albeit a small one at the moment as they haven't been established for all that long yet.

During our time there we shared and traded many items, crafting techniques, and technology.

I know Luci was very excited to learn how they cared for their vertical gardens, I never even heard of such a concept! Calvin was really intrested in their art, he ended up trading art tips and supplies with quite a few people. Captain sat in on multiple history lessons and creative writing classes. I think she's now writing a book? She's keeping tight lipped about what it's about but she's been writing in a journal near constantly and looking up seemingly random things. Now Ash was pretty much everywhere when we were there, but was mostly with talking with the locals about their lives and how their days were going. I think they became the most popular the quickest.

Everyone there was so nice, I honestly can't wait till we can visit them again. But unfortunately it would need to wait for a bit as we do have jobs after all.

[msnogood]

Carved Pet Rock (Rock Spirit)

A low maintenance pet I’ve always wanted. A stone sentry spirit to have around my houseplants guarding them from my brown thumb. Maybe I will remember to water my plants more with it around quietly judging.

Inspired by a combination the rock from Over the Garden Wall, Kodama tree spirits from Princess Mononoke, and ancient stone sculptures in nature like Orcus’ mouth in Gardens of Bomarzo.

Things you need: a rock, rotary tool, diamond rotary bit, water.

1) Pick the perfect rock. Sedimentary rock is the kind I picked. It came broken in half so it is likely softer than granite or milky quartz.

2) Draw your pet face on the rock with an oil based marker like Sharpie.

3) Wet the rock, and try to keep the working surface wet throughout.

4) Pick the right size diamond bit for your eyes.

5) Start slowly drilling on the lines of the eyes. You can opt to not have pupils. In that case you will need a bigger size bit.

6) Drill the mouth with a bigger size bit.

7) Optional, let your pet bless your new pet.

8) Clean the crevasses with moist paper towels.

9) Your new pet rock is born. Place it with your houseplants or in your garden, or enjoy it as home decor.

Tips:

Different rock type will vary in hardness. You may need to test a few to see which drills best.

If you have long hair, tie it up before you start.

If you are working over a sink, avoid scratching the sink with the rock or the diamond bit.

Water helps cooling the bit as it drills and keeping air particles down, but it���s best to wear an N95 mask.

Make sure the bit is straight and not bent.

Try to keep the bit at the same angle perpendicular to the vertical axis of the rock.

Go slow and light. Once there is a groove it is less likely your rotary tool will jump off track.

[brickcentral]

TIPS: Bringing Landscapes indoors

Hi all! This month I will be showing you how to create a variety of landscapes at home, using common items from the street or from your own home.

As a first example, I will show you how to build a forest. There is really nothing easier! Gather a bunch of sticks from the street, from a forest or your favourite garden center. Please be kind to nature, and do not harm plants for these. You want dry sticks anyway, not green ones.

I prepared a large cardboard and draw the basic shapes of where I wanted the road, the trees and so on. Once you have a bunch of sticks, to help them stay vertical, I use hot glue to glue some cardboard squares and glue this onto a large cardboard.

I filled in the base of the cardboard with plain dirt (I use the same one I have for my plants, because it's dark and has texture). You can pick this up on the floor of any forest or park.

For the atmosphere I use face misters as fog, a water spray for the rain, the flash to highlight this effects, and I printed some storm clouds on a paper and put it in the back

For the next tip I will show you how to create mountains out of packaging paper that look realistic.

@taskera

[andy-paleoart]

Primitive gardens | Jardins primitivos

🇬🇧

The Ordovician-Silurian mass extinction primarily affected marine life, resulting in a significant decline in various marine species. During the Ordovician, land was sparsely populated by simple, non-vascular plants such as liverworts and moss-like forms. These early terrestrial plants were not likely significant contributors to the extinction event, as their ecological impact was limited compared to the marine realm.

The extinction event itself is thought to have been driven by various factors, including glaciation, sea level changes, oceanic anoxia, and possibly volcanic activity. These factors primarily influenced marine environments, leading to the decline of marine species such as trilobites, brachiopods, and graptolites. The emergence and evolution of early land plants during this time were part of broader changes in Earth's ecosystems. As land plants continued to evolve and diversify in the subsequent periods, they would eventually contribute significantly to shaping terrestrial environments and ecosystems.

Silurian key-plants

The presence of Cooksonia in the fossil record signifies the adaptation of plants to terrestrial environments and their gradual divergence into various lineages that would eventually give rise to modern plant diversity. It represents one of the earliest vascular plants, marking a crucial step in the colonization of land by plants. Named after the paleobotanist Isabel Cookson, these plants were relatively small, reaching heights of only a few centimeters. Key features of Cooksonia include dichotomously branching stems with sporangia (reproductive structures) at their tips. It lacked leaves, roots, and a vascular system for efficient water transport. Instead, it relied on simple diffusion for nutrient uptake. Cooksonia is considered a transitional form between non-vascular plants like mosses and more advanced vascular plants.

Prototaxites is an extinct genus of large, tree-like organisms that initially thought to be a type of tree or fungus, but recent studies suggest that Prototaxites might have been a massive fungus-like organism. These structures could reach impressive heights, with some specimens exceeding eight meters. Prototaxites had a simple structure, consisting of a trunk-like body composed of tightly packed, vertically oriented tubes. The function of these structures is not entirely clear, but they are believed to have played a role in nutrient transport. The debate about whether Prototaxites was a giant fungus or a unique type of ancient plant continues among scientists. Regardless, it represents an intriguing chapter in the history of terrestrial life, providing insights into the diversity and ecological dynamics of ancient ecosystems during a time when complex land-dwelling organisms were still in their early stages of evolution.

🇧🇷

A extinção em massa Ordoviciano-Siluriano afetou principalmente a vida marinha, resultando em um declínio significativo de várias espécies marinhas. Durante o Ordoviciano, a terra era escassamente povoada por plantas simples, não vasculares, como hepáticas e formas semelhantes a musgos. Essas plantas terrestres iniciais não foram provavelmente contribuintes significativos para o evento de extinção, pois seu impacto ecológico eram limitados em comparação com o reino marinho.

O evento de extinção em si é pensado para ter sido impulsionado por vários fatores, incluindo glaciação, mudanças no nível do mar, anoxia oceânica e possivelmente atividade vulcânica. Esses fatores afetaram principalmente os ambientes marinhos, levando ao declínio de espécies marinhas como trilobitas, braquiópodes e graptólitos. A emergência e evolução das primeiras plantas terrestres durante esse período faziam parte de mudanças mais amplas nos ecossistemas da Terra. À medida que as plantas terrestres continuaram a evoluir e se diversificar nos períodos subsequentes, elas contribuiriam significativamente para moldar os ambientes e ecossistemas terrestres.

Plantas-chave do Siluriano

A presença de Cooksonia no registro fóssil indica a adaptação das plantas a ambientes terrestres e sua divergência gradual em várias linhagens que eventualmente deram origem à diversidade de plantas modernas. Ela representa uma das primeiras plantas vasculares, marcando um passo crucial na colonização da terra por plantas. Batizado em homenagem à paleobotânica Isabel Cookson, essas plantas eram relativamente pequenas, atingindo alturas de apenas alguns centímetros. Características-chave da Cooksonia incluem hastes com ramificações dicotômicas e esporângios (estruturas reprodutivas) em suas pontas. Ela não possuía folhas, raízes e um sistema vascular para transporte eficiente de água. Em vez disso, dependia da difusão simples para a absorção de nutrientes. A Cooksonia é considerada uma forma de transição entre plantas não vasculares, como musgos, e plantas vasculares mais avançadas.

O Prototaxites é um gênero extinto de organismos grandes, semelhantes a árvores, que inicialmente pensava-se ser um tipo de árvore ou fungo,mas estudos recentes sugerem que o Prototaxites pode ter sido um organismo gigante semelhante a um fungo. Essas estruturas podiam atingir alturas impressionantes, com alguns exemplares ultrapassando oito metros. O Prototaxites tinha uma estrutura simples, consistindo em um corpo semelhante a um tronco composto por tubos verticalmente orientados e compactados. A função dessas estruturas não é completamente clara, mas acredita-se que desempenhassem um papel no transporte de nutrientes. O debate sobre se o Prototaxites era um fungo gigante ou um tipo único de planta antiga continua entre os cientistas. Independentemente disso, ele representa um capítulo intrigante na história da vida terrestre, fornecendo insights sobre a diversidade e dinâmicas ecológicas de ecossistemas antigos em uma época em que organismos complexos que habitam a terra estavam em estágios iniciais de evolução.