#⋆ the golden lion

[hikari-writes]

Yaku Morisuke and head or forehead kisses are just so...perfect. As if that type of kiss was meant for him to do.

It doesn't matter what your height is, those kisses will still be the most endearing thing in the world for both you and Yaku.

If you're taller than him, he would simply tiptoe or gently pull you down, just enough for him to reach the top of your head or your forehead, before planting a soft kiss on it. The sight is just so adorable in your eyes while Yaku just enjoys being able to momentarily feel like he's taller than you. It's a win win win situation.

On the other hand, if you're shorter or of the same height as him, you bet he's going to pepper you with head and forehead kisses nonstop. From morning to night, he just loves showering you with his affections. If something good happens, he would spontaneously cup your face in his hands and plant the biggest smooch on your forehead. Even if nothing in particular happened, he would find himself reaching out to give a peck on your forehead. It's so comforting, so soft, almost like an angel had touched you, and your heart can't help but to melt whenever he does that.

He might not admit it aloud, but he definitely regards your forehead/head as his favourite spot to kiss (whether it's because he's aware of the fact or not, that's up for interpretation).

[why-animals-do-the-thing]

Folk were really into the post I made about Tandie, the zoo lion with a (then) undergrown mane due a period of time on testosterone blockers. He's having quite the glow up this summer.

But!

Did you know that manes are hormone dependent in both sexes of lion?

Let's talk about maned lionesses!

To recap the previous post quickly: the existence of a mane, and it's color, appear to be pretty heavily androgen-dependent. Neutered males or males put on testosterone blockers, like Tandie was, will drop their manes - but like Tandie, if taken off the meds, it will generally grow it back. Darker manes are indicative of higher testosterone levels, and long/lush manes are generally a good signal of a male's fitness and mate quality. Females seem to show a preference for males with longer, darker manes and other males will preferentially avoid scuffles with them. (Yes, as many comments have pointed out, that means Scar was actually a hunk. Do with that as you will.)

The fascinating thing about androgens being linked to manes in lions is that it goes both ways - females with higher levels will also grow manes!

Mane growth in females lions is most commonly seen with elderly animals who have stopped cycling and are basically in lion menopause. And they have to get pretty old for it to happen - captive lions generally only live into their late teens and early second decade, and most of the maned ladies I know about started growing manes around like, seventeen.

Not all old female lions grow manes, but some of the career cat people I've talked to said it happened to about a quarter of the females they've worked with over the years. Which... is an interesting contrast to the news articles about Zuri, who we'll meet in a bit, that breathlessly reported in 2022 that her mane growth "left scientists baffled."

Old lady lion manes are just... precious. They grow in first at the chest and then around the sides or on the back of the head, but they don’t normally get the length, density, and connectivity seen in the mane of an adult male. It leaves the lionesses manes kind of awkward, in the way I associate with very young males, and they're absolutely adorable. Prepare yourself for the photo spam.

I have to start with Daisy, because she's the only maned lioness I've had the privilege to meet in person.

I don't know exactly when she started growing her mane, but she was over 20 years old when she passed in 2019 with these luscious locks.

Here's another female at the same facility, named Adeena. On the left is a photo of her from 2021, on the right is from this spring (I think she's mid-sneeze in the photo). She turns 20 in October.

If you've heard about maned lionesses before, it’s probably because of Zuri, at Topeka. She’s the most recent one to get media coverage and she went a little viral.

(Just a side note here, but I have some strong feelings about knowledge loss in the exotic animal management world due to political/philosophical schisms. This is one of those topics where it's clear: Topeka told a reporter that the zoo had “never" heard of this happening before, but it's common enough to be well known as a thing in other sectors of the exotic cat world. There's so much expertise and knowledge being lost due to infighting between accrediting groups, and it drives me up a wall).

Anyway. Zuri had one of the best manes I've seen on an elderly lioness. It grew long and lush and she totally could have done shampoo commercials. I mean, look at this.

Zuri lived with her sister, who didn't grow a mane in her old age. Here's the two of them together, Zuri on the left, Asante on the right.

We don't completely know what's going on with these golden girls to cause them to grow manes. It's theorized to be related to the end of estrus and higher levels of androgenic hormones, although it's not clear if that's just due to lower levels of other hormones during "meownopause" or if there's something else also going on.

There was some speculation with Zuri's mane growth that it was caused by the death of the male she lived with, in some biological need to "take over the role." The zoo dismissed that idea pretty quickly, and it makes sense, although there is one other instance where I've heard of that happening before.

The cat people I've talked to say that older lionesses who grow manes don't tend to act differently - they're not taking over new social roles in their prides or anything. Sometimes they can be less active, or be a little more nervous around males, and want to be left alone more, but it was emphasized to me that those behaviors could also just be associated with the fact that manes tends to develop in elderly lionesses.

The mane growth can happen pretty quickly, as we saw in the photos I've posted of Tandie over the last year. Here's Bridget, from the Oklahoma Zoo. The left photo was taken in March of 2017 and the right in November - look how much hair she gained over six months!

The zoo did some research into what might have cause Bridget's mane growth, and found that she had elevated levels of androstenedione, which is a hormone that can be converted by the body into either testosterone or estrogen, depending. In AFAB people, it's known to have a masculinizing effect. The zoo theorized that this was the cause of her mane growth, and that the elevated levels might have been caused by a benign tumor. Fascinatingly, though, blood draws revealed that her testosterone levels were the same as her mane-less sister, Tia.

Tia is on the left in the photo below, Bridget and the beginnings of her mane are on the right. Bridget was 17 when her mane started growing in.

I don't think there's any formal hypothesis that there might be a genetic component to lionesses growing manes in old age, but it's interesting to note that one of Tia's daughters, Zari, also grew a mane. (And she grew it young! It started around age 13, interestingly, also right after their male died). She's on the left in the photo below.

And to circle back around to where we began: Tandie is related to a number of maned ladies! His father, Xerxes, was Bridget's son; Zari was Xerxes' half-sister.

Here's a few more beautiful maned ladies to leave you with. In order, Ngala, Pepper, Skye, and Dandy Lion.

Next up, and last in this lion mane series, is the story of five younger lionesses in Botswana who not only have manes but also express a range of masculine behaviors.

.

.

.

A huge thanks to all the folk who shared photos of and stories about their golden girls for this post: M. Townsen, S.W. Simpson, E. Day, S. Cook, M. Stinner, M. Paul, K. Vanaman, D. O'Halloran, R. Simpson, D. Souffrant.

[theribbajack]

"Now, the vow will be honoured, and my Lord brother's soul will return."

Radahn stans keep winning, but I personally am in Miyazaki's walls rn

[munette]

FE3H Pre & Post Timeskip Artworks

[samarajethwa]

The Fool - Thistle

[krazieka2]

vamps.png

[hekxate]

happy five year anniversary fire emblem three houses. it’s the timeskip now…

[kardothys]

A tribute for 5 years of Fire Emblem Three Houses 🦁🫎🦅

An animation I made with my beloved friends over the course of 2-3 weeks! We worked really hard on this 🙏

[mysticmonkiebusiness]

Happy 5th Anniversary!

[calamari-inari]

Happy 5th Anniversary! ❤️💙💛💜

A whole timeskip come and gone... 🥺

[iubworks]

Seiros

[hikari-writes]

“You’re always leaving me.”

He turned around to see you, standing in your doorway, with a wry smile plastered on your face. He’s not quite sure how to respond to that. He wanted to stay. He really does. But both of you knew that’s not how this works. 

Seeing how he’s at a loss for what to say, you simply hugged him. You’re not sure how many hugs it had been at this point, but it didn’t matter. You made sure that this last hug is tighter than the ones before. 

“Sorry, that was a stupid thing for me to say. Have a safe flight.”

You chuckled lightly before letting go of him. It was a dry chuckle, and it pained him to hear that coming out of you. 

It’s not like this was the first time he had to say a temporary goodbye to you. You two had been through this several times and more already. Although it never got any easier as you’d initially hoped. You were lonely on days when he’s not with you. And so was he. So instead of walking towards the cab waiting outside, he walked back inside the house, dragging you alongside him. You tried to frantically stop him, reminding him of his schedule. He simply grinned cheekily at you before pulling you closer to him.

“That can wait,” he started to sway back and forth with you still in his arms, “Or I can just cancel this one and call for another.” Your tense shoulder relaxed a bit upon hearing his laidback exclamation. You let him lead you through your living room, slow dancing to a silent song only audible to the both of you.

“You should pay the driver as compensation for wasting his time, you know?”

“Mhm. And you should pack your bags and come with me.”

You looked at him, amused. “We BOTH know that’s not how this works.”

He raised a brow, a smirk making its way onto his face. “That coming from the person who complained about me always leaving them?” He twirled you around, looking more at ease now. 

“Stop bringing up the past,” you huffed, resting your head on his chest and listening to his steady heartbeat, savouring the moment. You’d trade everything you have for this moment to last even a minute more. 

Looking up at him, you then cupped his cheeks, which seemed to perfectly fit in your hands, bringing it closer to your face. “I’m lonely whenever I’m without you," you admitted, a slight pink hue making its way onto your cheeks. It’s a bit embarrassing to admit such a thing aloud, but you figured that it’s now or never. 

He hummed once again, before breathing out a "Me too," and placing his lips on top of yours. You both melted into the kiss, but you suddenly gently pulled away from him, giggling.

"I seriously think you need to get going now before you miss your flight."

His pout was visible and you couldn't help but to adore his cuteness. "Just a little while longer," he said, pulling you closer once again to his face and with your foreheads touching. "Just a little bit more…"

You closed your eyes and let out a soft chuckle this time, all the while letting him caress your cheeks. “Alright, just a little while longer then.”

Konoha Akinori, Koshi Sugawara, Kuroo Tetsurou, Satori Tendo, Childe

a/n: this was inspired by the song "car's outside" by james arthur !! 🥺🥺 def rec u listen to the song it made me cry it was so sweet 🫶🫶 when i first heard it my brain immediately decided to write this 💓💓 been a while since i last wrote anything hahahah </3

[lunjetlyd]

to eat is the privilege of the living

[ningadudexx]

.

.

i tested and got my second degree black belt today!! *__* also here is a bunch of swks and monkeys i forgot to post :^)

beebo is a golden lion tamarin 🗣️‼️

[cherrypikkins]

Thank you everyone who participated in the fe3h portrait request this year, whether by making requests, liking, reblogging or leaving nice comments :3

Here is the full compilation of all the works I managed to finish! For certain characters I went back and did some very minor touch-ups, just so they look a bit more consistent. That said, you can see how my style changed quite over time :3;;; Which is fine! I wanted to experiment with the soft texture brushes and try to come up with a style that would look crisp when zoomed out, but also look interesting close up. I hope I managed to achieve that, and that it looks good!!

Don't forget to vote for the final character portrait here!

Hope I can get a chance to do this again one day, it was super fun!!! And, I hope you guys had fun too~

[always-a-king-or-queen]

The ache will go away, eventually. 

That was what the Professor told them, the day they got back. When they tumbled from the wardrobe in a heap of tangled limbs, and found that the world had been torn from under their feet with all the kindness of a serpent. 

They picked themselves off of the floorboards with smiles plastered on child faces, and sat with the Professor in his study drinking cup after cup of tea. 

But the smiles were fake. The tea was like ash on their tongues. And when they went to bed that night, none of them could sleep in beds that were too foreign, in bodies that had not been their own for years. Instead they grouped into one room and sat on the floor and whispered, late into the night. 

When morning came, Mrs. Macready discovered the four of them asleep in Peter and Edmund’s bedroom, tangled in a heap of pillows and blankets with their arms looped across one another. They woke a few moments after her entry and seemed confused, lost even, staring around the room with pale faces, eyes raking over each framed painting on the wall and across every bit of furniture as if it was foreign to them. “Come to breakfast,” Mrs. Macready said as she turned to go, but inside she wondered. 

For the children’s faces had held the same sadness that she saw sometimes in the Professor’s. A yearning, a shock, a numbness, as if their very hearts had been ripped from their chests.

At breakfast Lucy sat huddled between her brothers, wrapped in a shawl that was much too big for her as she warmed her hands around a mug of hot chocolate. Edmund fidgeted in his seat and kept reaching up to his hair as if to feel for something that was no longer there. Susan pushed her food idly around on her plate with her fork and hummed a strange melody under her breath. And Peter folded his hands beneath his chin and stared at the wall with eyes that seemed much too old for his face. 

It chilled Mrs. Macready to see their silence, their strangeness, when only yesterday they had been running all over the house, pounding through the halls, shouting and laughing in the bedrooms. It was as if something, something terrible and mysterious and lengthy, had occurred yesterday, but surely that could not be. 

She remarked upon it to the Professor, but he only smiled sadly at her and shook his head. “They’ll be all right,” he said, but she wasn’t so sure. 

They seemed so lost. 

Lucy disappeared into one of the rooms later that day, a room that Mrs. Macready knew was bare save for an old wardrobe of the professor’s. She couldn’t imagine what the child would want to go in there for, but children were strange and perhaps she was just playing some game. When Lucy came out again a few minutes later, sobbing and stumbling back down the hall with her hair askew, Mrs. Macready tried to console her, but Lucy found no comfort in her arms. “It wasn’t there,” she kept saying, inconsolable, and wouldn’t stop crying until her siblings came and gathered her in their arms and said in soothing voices, “Perhaps we’ll go back someday, Lu.” 

Go back where, Mrs. Macready wondered? She stepped into the room Lucy had been in later on in the evening and looked around, but there was nothing but dust and an empty space where coats used to hang in the wardrobe. The children must have taken them recently and forgotten to return them, not that it really mattered. They were so old and musty and the Professor had probably forgotten them long ago. But what could have made the child cry so? Try as she might, Mrs. Macready could find no answer, and she left the room dissatisfied and covered in dust. 

Lucy and Edmund and Peter and Susan took tea in the Professor’s room again that night, and the next, and the next, and the next. They slept in Peter and Edmund’s room, then Susan and Lucy’s, then Peter and Edmund’s again and so on, swapping every night till Mrs. Macready wondered how they could possibly get any sleep. The floor couldn’t be comfortable, but it was where she found them, morning after morning. 

Each morning they looked sadder than before, and breakfast was silent. Each afternoon Lucy went into the room with the wardrobe, carrying a little lion figurine Edmund had carved her, and came out crying a little while later. And then one day she didn’t, and went wandering in the woods and fields around the Professor’s house instead. She came back with grassy fingers and a scratch on one cheek and a crown of flowers on her head, but she seemed content. Happy, even. Mrs. Macready heard her singing to herself in a language she’d never heard before as Lucy skipped past her in the hall, leaving flower petals on the floor in her wake. Mrs. Macready couldn’t bring herself to tell the child to pick them up, and instead just left them where they were. 

More days and nights went by. One day it was Peter who went into the room with the wardrobe, bringing with him an old cloak of the Professor’s, and he was gone for quite a while. Thirty or forty minutes, Mrs. Macready would guess. When he came out, his shoulders were straighter and his chin lifted higher, but tears were dried upon his cheeks and his eyes were frightening. Noble and fierce, like the eyes of a king. The cloak still hung about his shoulders and made him seem almost like an adult. 

Peter never went into the wardrobe room again, but Susan did, a few weeks later. She took a dried flower crown inside with her and sat in there at least an hour, and when she came out her hair was so elaborately braided that Mrs. Macready wondered where on earth she had learned it. The flower crown was perched atop her head as she went back down the hall, and she walked so gracefully that she seemed to be floating on the air itself. In spite of her red eyes, she smiled, and seemed content to wander the mansion afterwards, reading or sketching or making delicate jewelry out of little pebbles and dried flowers Lucy brought her from the woods. 

More weeks went by. The children still took tea in the Professor’s study on occasion, but not as often as before. Lucy now went on her daily walks outdoors, and sometimes Peter or Susan, or both of them at once, accompanied her. Edmund stayed upstairs for the most part, reading or writing, keeping quiet and looking paler and sadder by the day. 

Finally he, too, went into the wardrobe room. 

He stayed for hours, hours upon hours. He took nothing in save for a wooden sword he had carved from a stick Lucy brought him from outside, and he didn’t come out again. The shadows lengthened across the hall and the sun sank lower in the sky and finally Mrs. Macready made herself speak quietly to Peter as the boy came out of the Professor’s study. “Your brother has been gone for hours,” she told him crisply, but she was privately alarmed, because Peter’s face shifted into panic and he disappeared upstairs without a word. 

Mrs. Macready followed him silently after around thirty minutes and pressed an ear to the door of the wardrobe room. Voices drifted from beyond. Edmund’s and Peter’s, yes, but she could also hear the soft tones of Lucy and Susan. 

“Why did he send us back?” Edmund was saying. It sounded as if he had been crying.  

Mrs. Macready couldn’t catch the answer, but when the siblings trickled out of the room an hour later, Edmund’s wooden sword was missing, and the flower crown Susan had been wearing lately was gone, and Peter no longer had his old cloak, and Lucy wasn’t carrying her lion figurine, and the four of them had clasped hands and sad, but smiling, faces. 

Mrs. Macready slipped into the room once they were gone and opened the wardrobe, and there at the bottom were the sword and the crown and the cloak and the lion. An offering of sorts, almost, or perhaps just items left there for future use, for whenever they next went into the wardrobe room.  

But they never did, and one day they were gone for good, off home, and the mansion was silent again. And it had been a long time since that morning that Mrs. Macready had found them all piled together in one bedroom, but ever since then they hadn’t quite been children, and she wanted to know why.

She climbed the steps again to the floor of the house where the old wardrobe was, and then went into the room and crossed the floor to the opposite wall. 

When she pulled the wardrobe door open, the four items the Pevensie children had left inside of it were missing. 

And just for a moment, it seemed to her that a cool gust of air brushed her face, coming from the darkness beyond where the missing coats used to hang.