#tiny hardy stories

[tinyalechardy]

Why are you playing with the bell. It's annoying. STOP!!

.....

[sivyera]

DATING MALE CELEBRITIES WOULD INCLUDE...

ft. tyler hoechlin, jacob elordi, tom cruise, jeremy sumpter, robert pattinson, cillian murphy, henry cavill, tom hardy, sam worthington, tom felton, rupert grint

a/n: i was focused on actors that doesn't get much attention but if you have any other celebrity in mind, please let me know in the comments! also i don't know if this is good because i included their favourite things, hobbies etc (with you ofc) just to make it more detailed and not boring... so i hope you guys like it:) if you want more detailed fic or just about one celebrity, let me know!

༻♛༺

⤷ Tyler Hoechlin

-Tyler writes you love letters. Pretty often. When he cannot be with you or is busy with his job, he'll sit down at night when he's alone and write you a letter about how much he misses you, how he's doing and about his job.

-Tyler loves sports, mostly baseball. So he'll take you with him to play baseball; he doesn't care if you don't know how, he will be happy when you just throw a ball to him. He'll take you to hockey matching or ice skating, if you don't know how to ice skate, don't worry he'll gladly teach you.

-He can talk a bit Spanish so he'll sometimes call you by Spanish pet names like cariño, mi amor or querida. And he'll be all cheesy about it which makes you laugh but it's also really sweet when he does that.

-Tyler loves his family so he was a bit nervous when he first introduced you to them, because their opinion mattered to him but he also loved you. But his nervousness disappear right after you and his family clicked. His family loves you which makes Tyler so happy.

-He plays guitar so he often plays to you. He loves how your eyes light up when he plays, he just loves making you happy and if he's making you happy by playing on his guitar, he'll gladly play all day.

-Tyler also loves traveling so when he has a week off, he takes you somewhere to the forest camping or to the ocean to relax, depends where you wanna go.

⤷ Jacob Elordi

-Jacob would post you on his instagram like ALL THE TIME. On his stories or just regular post because he loves to show you of. He will also post the most random photos of you that you didn't even know he took. But he loves every single one of them.

-Because of his role on 'the kissing booth' he learned how to drive a motorcycle so sometimes he takes you for a ride, it makes the both of you feel so free and you are with each other.

-No surprise that Jacob loves sports. His most favourite are basketball and surfing. Which means he takes you to play basketball with him or watch him how he plays with his friends, cheering for him ofc. When it comes to surfing he'll gladly teach you but again he prefers when you cheer for him or just watch him after that you two will have a playful fight in water.

-Jacob is a huge cuddle bug and he just loves when you lay on his chest so he can wrap his big arms around your tiny figure. When he cannot cuddle with you he will have one of his arms on your shoulder or around your waist.

-Jacob is actually a fan of poetry so you often find him reading it, but he will be over the moon if you read him his favourite poetries. You two will also have deep conversations about the true meanings of the poetries.

-He's a huge dog lover so it will be no surprise of you two get a dog, maybe two.

-He will get your name tattooed on his chest close to his heart. And you two will get matching tattooes.

⤷ Tom Cruise

-Tom loves skydiving which makes you a bit worried all the time since it's a extreme sport but if you are also a fan of extreme sports than he'll take you with him.

-Tom likes junk food like chips, fries, coca-cola etc. so you two have almost everything that comes to your mind at home. When you two watch a movie and cuddle on the sofa, he always has some chips or popcorn.

-He loves when you read to him and he really appreciate it because he loves hearing your voice and he has dyslexia which makes it hard for him to read. He usually lays on your chest while you read to him and play with his hair.

-He's a pilot and he own several aircraft so when you need to relax and he needs to take a break from his job, you just get into one of them and fly wherever you two wants.

-Tom loves under water scenes, which makes him love water. Like I said when you two needs to take a break from work and the fame, you fly in is aircraft somewhere and the 'somewhere' it's mostly somewhere where is hot weather or beach or ocean/sea.

-Tom is famous for doing all of his stunts because he's a adrenaline junky but it makes you sometimes worried because it can be dangerous. He always make sure that after a stunt he goes to you, tells you he's okay and kiss you.

⤷ Jeremy Sumpter

-Jeremy loves traveling and his favourite color is green, which leads you two take a trip to the forest, pretty often. Just walking around, listening to the singing birds, holding each others hands and having silly or deep conversation, depends on the day and mood.

-Jeremy is a dog lover. He has a dog named Bear and he takes him on the trips to the forest you two go. Bear absolutely loves you which makes Jeremy happy.

-He loves your cooking but he himself is a bad cook so he either helps you, but you have to give him detailed informations or he just hugs you from behind and watch you cook. If you make his favourite food he will be the happiest man alive, his favourite food are spaghetti.

-Jeremy also loves sport and to his favourite ones belongs baseball and soccer. He used to play them when he was a kid so his mom shows you some of his photos where he is in a dress or something. He also takes you on matches and explains you all the rules.

-He also loves water and swimming, so when you two goes on some vacation is usually somewhere to the ocean.

-Jeremy loves the movie called 'The Deer Hunter' so you two watch it like all the time while cuddling on the sofa or bed. His face in your neck, his arms around your waist and your hand playing with his blond curls.

⤷ Robert Pattinson

-Robert is a music lover, he wrote few songs and he can also sing pretty well so it was no surprise when he wrote a song about you, then sing it to you while playing on the piano.

-He's fluent in French so when he's feeling extra romantic or just in a playful mood, he will talk to you in French or call you by some French pet names like Mon amour or Mon chéri, otherwise he calls you darling, my love or baby.

-Robert loves cooking and when is it with you, he's even more happy to do it. Sometimes when you are exhausted from job, he'll prepare you a nice dinner and visa verse.

-You two watch war, drama or horror movies together. For example 'The Exorcist' or 'Come and See' are the type of movies you two watch together, because he's a fan of paranormal same as you, which leads to deep conversations. Rob is hugging you from behind while still laying down on your shared bed. Him kissing the back of your head once in a while.

-Robert is a dog lover, he always helps the homeless dogs but he can never keep them. You two will soon get a dog and it will be one of the best decisions Rob could ever make (the first, best one was to start dating you).

-Rob is literature fan which means picnic dates. You two somewhere private, laying on a picnic blanket with some homemade food, reading books and then having deep conversations about them.

⤷ Cillian Murphy

-Cillian also loves music so it will be no surprise if he will made a song about you and he'll gladly sing it to you. He didn't write you just a one song, you have a full album of his songs that he gave you.

-At nights were you have a trouble to fall asleep, he will read to you. He will read you another chapter of your favourite book or poems he wrote (they are often about you). After he's done reading, he'll hug you tight with your head placed on his chest, rubbing small circles on your back with kiss on your forehead.

-Cillian is also a big fan of literature and he loves when you give him recommendations. He doesn't care what genre the book is (detective, romance, horror,...) if you recommended it to him, he will read it.

-You two end up getting a dog or a cat, maybe both. Because Cillian is an animal lover, you will do most of the job around the dog/cat because Cillian is often really busy but he'll always make a time for you.. and the dog/cat.

-He's big fan of a Liverpool football club so you two will often be seen on their games with matching t-shirts and caps.

-His favourite part of the day will be night (or every day time he can spend with you) because he can read to you, have you in his arms, cuddled up to his chest while placing soft kisses on your forehead, cheek, lips, neck (any part he can reach)

⤷ Henry Cavill

-Henry, to your surprise, loves playing games on his PC. When he plays he'll have you sat on his lap with his arms idly wrapped around you while still having his hands on the controller/mouse. From time to time he'll kiss any part of your skin he can reach (cheek, neck,..).

-He rides a motorcycle and he loves when you wanna ride with him. Your arms wrapped around his waist while just riding around with no care in the world.

-Henry can speak a bit of Italian, French and Spanish and if you will help him to get better in those languages, he'll be so grateful. But this 'learning dates' you two have never goes as you planned, because he is always distracted by your beauty.

-He also loves cooking so if you had a bad day, Henry is already waiting at your house with dinner and fresh flowers.And for dessert, a warm bath with soft kisses all over your face.

-Henry can ride a horse so one of his ideas for date is a picnic at beautiful meadow but getting there on horses. If you can't ride a horse that's fine, you will sat behind him, if you can ride a horse maybe you two will even race who's gonna be there first.

-He loves cuddling you, because you feel so small in his big arms. He loves having his arms wrapped around you because it makes him feel like he's protecting you but when you stroke his hair he absolutely melts into you.

⤷ Tom Hardy

-Tom LOVES motorcycles. And he LOVES you, which means that you and him are often seen by paparazzi on his motorcycle either just for a simple ride or with packed things ready to sleep somewhere in the woods in tent or something similar.

-Tom loves challenges, so on these trips on his motorcycle, he makes sure there are some adrenaline, challenging stuff like jumping off of a cliff to clear cold water.

-Going into the gym together, watching him workout OR workout with him, but if you do work out with him he'll make sure to have easier workout with you because he's much stronger than you and he doesn't want you to hurt yourself.

-Tom loves reading comic books and he has one special comic book with Venom placed in the living room.

-He has a dog named Woody and when he's busy with acting, you will watch after him. Taking him out for walks, cuddling with him, playing with him and when he comes back and makes time for you and Woody, he'll make it up to the both of you.

-Tom has many tattoos all over his body so it's no surprise when one night when you two were making out you find out that he had you name tattooed on his lower belly near to his dick.

⤷ Sam Worthington

-Sam loves rock climbing for two main reasons, it's a excellent way how to relieve stress (besides spending time with you) and he can show off his back muscles, because he knows you love it.

-He's a lover of extreme sports so you can often be a bit worried that something can happen to him, but he always calms you down a bit with a kiss on your forehead. If you wanna try some of extreme sports with him, he'll be so happy.

-He's also a nature lover so trips are usually somewhere quiet and in nature, forest, meadow,... he loves going on trips with you because you two can be alone in peace and he can have you all to himself.

-He's an australian so it's no surprise he loves surfing. If you never tried it he will teach you but he won't be much focused on teaching, he's focused more on you and your beauty.

-Sam loves music AND he can play on the guitar and drums. He will take the guitar on the trips you two have, playing some songs you love on the guitar to you at the campfire.

-He also draws a lot. Many of his drawings are you or for you or of your favourite things. Please don't mind him, he just loves everything about you.

⤷ Tom Felton

-Everyone knows that Tom never left the Harry Potter fandom and you love Harry Potter as well, so it wasn't surprise when Tom posted you and him in a Harry Potter merch (him in Slytherin colors and you in your own house colors) on his instagram.

-He has a dog named Willow so his wallpaper is you holding Willow in your arms with Harry Potter merch on you (Willow has his Slytherin scarf and you have his Slytherin sweatsthirt)

-Again Tom as many other actors, loves music. He writes songs, sings, plays on a guitar. Many of his songs includes you and Willow, your relationship or his emotions.

-He will have your name tattooed near to his collarbone with a little heart next to it.

-Tom will show off his skills on his skateboard. He can skate pretty well and he's always so smiley and happy when you compliment him. If you ask, he'll also teach you few basic tricks but prepare for some bruises from all the falls, he'll kiss you as many times as much bruises you will have.

-Tom loves when you give him back massages, doesn't matter if you massage him with some fancy oils and with you palms stroking up and down on his back with some gentle rubbs or he can lay on your chest and you can scratch his back with you nails.

⤷ Rupert Grint

-Rupert loves ice cream and at one time he bought a ice cream van and gave ice cream to all the actors from Harry Potter with you helping him. He'll often take you on a ice cream date or will cuddle you while watching movies and eating ice cream.

-One of his favourite actors is Jim Carrey, which means you two often watch movies where he played and you somehow managed to get him a autograph form Jim, which made him incredibly happy you can't even imagine.

-If you two are not watching movies with Jim Carrey then definitely MCU movies, because he's a fan of marvel.

-Rupert love Artic Monkeys so when you two bake together there is always one of their songs playing softly in the background. He will often mumble the lyrics without realizing and if you point it out, he'll blush.

-Rupert is a dog lover so you two often visit nearest shelters and play with the dogs there. Rupert and you fell in love with one of the dogs, dalmatian named Teddy, so you adopted him. After a year you bought another dog but this time not from a shelter but from a verified seller.

-He loves photographing and his favourite things to photograph is you and your dogs, no wonder that there are so many pictures of you two or the dogs around the house, but he keeps his favourite besides him on his night table.

[hedgewitchgarden]

By: Lauren Diaz

The Appalachian mountains share their story with us in many forms, beginning from their wise and weathered peaks, through their towering forests, and down to the rushing roar of their rocky streams and rivers. Many of these clear, mountain rivers are inhabited by the cryptic and awe-inspiring Eastern Hellbender. Truly a living fossil, the hellbender has existed for millennia and yet sadly it has been quickly disappearing over the last century. The Hellbender is a lonely species; it is the only giant salamander in the western hemisphere, as its cousins live in China and Japan. An ancient creature that is hardy enough to withstand thousands of years of flooding and drought, Hellbenders were once abundant even in the mainstem of the Ohio river. Unfortunately, they are now being lost at an unprecedented rate, and for many reasons we don’t understand.

Although many factors implicated in the Eastern Hellbender’s rapid decline are large scale — urbanization, removal of riparian tree cover, siltation, and pollution — there is one simple issue that every one of us that recreates in the Appalachians has control over: the moving of rocks in these streams to create dams, chutes, and rock statues (also known as cairns). The rivers where we still have healthy hellbender populations, such as those within the Pisgah National Forest and Great Smoky Mountains National Park, are the same rivers that are receiving an extraordinary rise in human use. While the hellbenders are holding on for now, the very real possibility of loving these rivers to death is just around the corner.

The Hellbender relies on the spaces under river rocks for their homes and to find their favorite food: crayfish. They share these spaces with the stoneflies and caddisflies that feed the iconic rainbow trout, as well as a variety of other small fish, mussels, and salamanders. Most importantly, they require cavities under large boulders to breed. Hellbenders lay their eggs under these large boulders in early fall, and then the male Hellbender will stay in that cavity protecting the eggs and larvae until they emerge in late spring. Moving rocks around in streams disturbs the delicate homes and breeding grounds of these enigmatic mountain species.

Cairns are a recent phenomenon, and their ubiquitous presence in national park and forest rivers is undoubtedly tied with the rise of social media. You have surely seen a picture of one, probably accompanied with a quote about balance. You may think, “there’s no harm in making small ones if they only use boulders!”, but in fact small rocks are important habitat for larval and juvenile Hellbenders. Plus, just seeing one cairn in a river (even with tiny rocks) encourages others to make them too, despite nearby signs asking visitors not to move the rocks. Dams and tube chutes not only make large boulders unavailable to Hellbenders, but they also slow down water flow and essentially make pools of dead habitat. This slow, silty water can no longer support the needs of the unique species that require swift, cool, well-oxygenated water. Silt accumulates in the pools above and below rock dams, and that silt fills in the spaces that hellbenders need to live and reproduce. Moving boulders for any of these uses has the potential to crush any animals living underneath them, including hellbenders.

The motivations behind moving rocks are innocent. But the consequences for the rare species that rely on a very specific kind of stream substrate are damaging and permanent. Some hellbenders will spend their entire lives (up to 30 years!) living under one rock. We ask that when recreating in hellbender habitat, please keep in mind that you are a guest in their home. Respect the forces of nature that put each stone in its perfect place and the millions of years of evolution shaping these stream systems so that every insect, fish, and salamander can live in perfect harmony.

For more information on hellbenders, check out these resources on the article page.

[prolix-yuy]

Olive Branch

Pairing: Francisco Morales x F!Reader

Summary: If Frankie doesn't like olives, then what does he like?

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: T, alcohol consumption, mention of drug use, incredibly tame for me, hints of spice. While this story is not explicit, my blog and the content shared on it is 18+ MINORS DNI.

Notes: I was challenged by @happypedrohours to write a story involving Frankie and olives, and what do you know, these are two of my favorite things! I was snickering to myself the entire time as the olive metaphor rolled out, but what the hell, we're gonna keep it in! Enjoy my friends, and Happy Pedro Hours!

Cross-posted on AO3

When it slides in front of you, you know it’s a good one. You watched the bartender make one at the end of the bar and it was just how you like it. Dry, cold, three olives on a hardy metal toothpick. You were practically salivating by the time you ordered your own and it slid in front of you, shining like the Holy Grail.

“Didn’t know you liked martinis.”

Head whipping around, you stutter out a laugh as Frankie slides in next to you. He perches an elbow on the bar, free shoulder coming close as the crowd tucks you into each other. Your eyes dart to his crinkled brown ones, then to your drink, and back again to distract from the proximity. His hand is tucked into his faded jeans, but it wouldn’t take much to cup your elbow or wrap around your waist. 

“On special occasions,” you quip, tossing your head at Will and Tatiana surrounded by your friends. She’s showing the girls the ring, the men clapping hands on Will’s back and making him laugh. The air holds the fresh taste of new beginnings.

“Never had much of a taste for ‘em. Just gasoline in a glass,” he replies. Your face must be ten levels of indigent with how quickly his eyebrows shoot up.

“Do I look like a car to you?” 

Frankie’s eyes twinkle, and it flips your stomach.

“Definitely a hot rod.”

You laugh it off, rolling your eyes. He’s never serious, after all. He likes to ply you with compliments just short of flirty and leave you high and dry at the end of the night. The first time it stung so hard you didn’t go out with the boys for weeks. 

“He’s just a little fucked in the head, don’t take it too personal,” Santi told you when he finally wrestled the reason for your absence out. “Can’t stop chasing anything messy with two legs. Last girlfriend was a cokehead, even worse before that. He likes ‘em pretty and crazy, and he bags ‘em left and right. They always leave him worse for wear.” Santi’s eyes narrowed over his knowing smirk. “So now you like him?”

“Fuck no,” you spat out, arms folded tight. “I don’t deal with boys who play games.”

Yet here you are, again, with Frankie, ready to roll the dice yet again. At least he doesn’t know you’ve still got a soft spot for him ready to land.

“I’ll ignore the fact that you called Hendricks gasoline,” you scold, sliding your gleaming prize closer on its soggy black napkin. “There’s also vermouth, and olives.” You take a sip, the warmth of the gin and sharp salt of the charcuterie mainstay sweeping across your tongue. Frankie’s eyes drifting down to your lips on the rim of the glass.

What a cocktease. At least most men who eyefuck you actually follow through.

“Shaken, not stirred?” he quips in a rough approximation of a Scottish accent. You snort, instantly regretting it as the burn of brine and alcohol decimates your sense of smell. Trying to hide it under a tiny cough, Frankie’s face turns to the bar.

“Not much of an olive guy either, so you're 0 for 3 on convincing me.” 

You don’t know why, but your stomach sinks briefly as you gingerly twist the glass stem between your fingers. 

“Perfect, more for me then,” you shoot back brightly, but he looks back a fraction too soon before the disappointment flits away. 

“C’mon, you know you were never gonna change my mind,” he teases, jostling you with his shoulder as he motions for the bartender. 

“Never said I was,” you add absentmindedly. 

Frankie will never be an option. He’s made it clear time and time again that he doesn’t choose you. But sometimes, when you let your mind drift, you think about how it could happen. Some dark room where he finally finds something he’s been looking for. The brushing of noses and near-misses before one of you finally acts and you’d know what his lips feel like. Then he would lick into your mouth and his flavor would dance with acidity and botanicals on your tongue and he’d moan at how good you taste.

But he doesn’t even like olives. Or you.

Frankie’s drink is a golden lager, malt rising to your nose. You like beer too. You like a lot of things. You could sit at this bar and talk about your favorite drinks for hours. You’re not just the martini girl. You’re so much more. 

You need some air. Your daydreams are getting in the way of enjoying the night and Frankie’s none the wiser, so best keep it that way.

“I’m gonna bring my gasoline olives back to the party,” you say, ducking out from Frankie’s body without waiting for a reply. Maybe catching a glimpse of surprise, you strut back to the girls. The warmth of their excitement and enthusiasm reinvigorate your tight throat. 

Your drink dwindles slowly, savoring the clean flavor and crushing the olives one by one between your teeth. One of the girls tries the dregs of your glass and wants one of her own, so you weave back to the bar so you can help her order. A holler rises from the boys around Will, and when you look you catch Frankie’s face again. He’s all beaming smiles, eyes barely visible from behind his crows feet and gleaming teeth. He catches your eye and his smile softens, and over the din of the bar he mouths “you good?”

You nod. Of course you are. What would Frankie know about that?

The drinks come, followed by cheers and hums of contentment. You will definitely be tipping well tonight. Before you can make it back to the group Benny cuts off your path, swooping one arm behind your back and your free hand into his. 

“No no no, Benny, I’ll spill!” you shriek, feeling the telltale wetness of a sloshed drink over your fingers. “Shit, I think I got it on the back of your shirt…”

“Ah, I’ve had worse,” Benny says, mock-dancing with you to the barely audible music. 

“How’s Will?” you ask, leaning over his shoulder to snag a healthy sip of the martini. Now a more manageable level, you let Benny lead you away from the bar.

“So in love it makes me sick.” You raise an eyebrow. “In a good way!” he adds, turning you so the man in question is visible. Tatiana’s tucked under his arm, and his mouth drifts to kiss the top of her head.

“You know what, I get it,” you agree, the both of you snickering as the tempo of the music changes. It might be a Hozier song? It’s hard to tell over the babble of voices.

“How are you?” he asks, feigned innocence a red flag flicked in front of your eyes.

“Peachy. Why?”

Benny’s hand squeezes yours in a soothing rhythm.

“Hey, don’t bite my head off. Fish mentioned you seemed down. Something about olives?”

The flash of heat rocketing to your face has to be combatted, so you choose comedy.

“Oh yeah, the fact that they never give me enough in my damn drink. Could drive a woman to tears!” Your put-on mid-atlantic accent doesn’t sell it. Benny chews on the inside of his cheek before leaning to bring his mouth to your ear.

“I know you’re gonna tell me to fuck off…”

“Then you don’t have to say anything.”

“...but you and I both know this ain’t about olives.”

You lean back, jaw set and eyes cool.

“You’re right. It’s about absolutely nothing.”

“Hey…”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

Benny lets go and you down the rest of your drink. It burns and you hate yourself for it, but it feels good to let liquid frustration carve through the center of you. 

“It’s late, and bar snacks aren’t gonna soak up the hangover I’ll have tomorrow. I’m gonna say bye to Will and Tatiana, get a cheeseburger, and go home.” Benny puts his hands on his hips, blue eyes filled with a brotherly care you know better than to try and tamp down.

“And it’s not about olives?”

Plucking the toothpick full of metaphor out of the glass, you point it at him.

“It’s not about olives.”

Benny relents, and walks you over to the happy couple. Promises of more drinks and a bachelorette party are half shouted before you pick through the crowd and exit the front of the bar. 

The air is just starting to get cool, alcohol thrumming in your blood. You love the way a martini buzz feels, your mind crystal and your body sharp as glass. It’s different from the smoky haze of scotch or the sluggish thudding of beer. Martinis make you diamond.

Which is why you notice Frankie immediately upon his exit, even though you can tell he wanted to go unseen for a few moments longer. He fumbles his hands into his pockets, ambling up to stand beside you while you glare at the Uber app.

“Got a ride coming?” 

“Eventually.”

He nods and stares at the toes of his boots, which you observe surreptitiously. The progress bar keeps filling and emptying as the silence stretches. 

“I’m sorry for shitting on your drink.”

You can’t help but snap your face to him, eyebrows raised.

“I sure hope you didn’t shit on my drink.”

The poor choice of words quirks the corner of your mouth as Frankie tries to recover.

“Jesus Christ, I mean…you know what I mean! I didn’t mean to be a dick,” he says, now contemplating the sky with resignation. There's still a fight in you, but you try to meet halfway.

“S’all good, I shit on your terrible beers all the time. We’re even.” You glance back at the app and shut it out of frustration. You’ll try again in a minute. 

“I don’t hate olives, either,” he rushes out. You roll your eyes, shoulders slumping. God, could they just let this go? You’re embarrassed enough about it. Before you can make another joke, another deflection, he barrels on.

“To be honest, I’ve never tried…olives. I see them all the time - at parties, at the bar, at friend’s houses - and there always seems to be some reason not to try them. I’m always having something else, or just had something, and I don’t want to…I’m afraid if I try the olives, I’ll really like them. And I don’t know what I’ll do if that happens. And that’s been scaring me off from even trying.” 

Frankie looks up at you, mouth parted and brow furrowed, as realization rises slow and fizzy.

“Because I think I could really, really like them. Enough that I’d want them all the time. But I’ve never had anything like that before. And I don’t want to hurt the…olives.”

Your heart is thudding in your ears, lower lip close to a betraying tremble before you force it between your teeth..

“You don’t want to hurt…the olives,” you parrot back and Frankie sighs, lifting his cap enough to rake his fingers through his hair before resettling it. 

“Fuck it, you know what I mean, right? It’s not about…it’s not about the fucking olives,” he says, and one of his hands wraps around your shoulder. It’s hot and strong and your chest swells at the touch.

“If it’s not about the olives,” you say, tentative, voice dropping into a lower register. He’s closer, almost as close as in the bar, thumb worrying back and forth over your shirt. “Then why don’t you show me what it is about?”

You expected more hesitation, but with that permission he lunges for you, cupping your face with both hands as he crashes your lips together. It’s fast and messy, teeth pressed against your lips and his tongue slipping in to taste. He groans and your knees go weak, head spinning worse than any drink could hope to do. You clutch the lapels of his canvas jacket and pull him closer, sweeping strokes of your kiss filling your mouth with bitter hops. With a lurch he pulls back.

“M’sorry,” he mumbles against your lips, but he continues to clutch at you, arm banding around your waist to keep you snug against him. 

“For what?” you tease, sliding your nose along his proud profile. 

“Takin’ so fuckin’ long.” His teeth graze your jaw lightly, heat pooling in a place that’s demanding a more private location for proper penance.

“I think you owe me a lot more than one very good kiss, after everything you’ve put me through,” you contemplate, his grip tightening. 

“Still waiting for your ride?”

Your fingers wander to the nape of his neck, and his curls are just as soft as you imagined.

“No.”

A gentler kiss follows, broader, somehow still able to make your head spin.

“Good, you’re coming home with me so I can properly apologize.”

The next morning as Frankie opens his front door for his breakfast delivery, he finds a pristine jar of olives resting on his welcome mat. The scrawled note - better start getting a taste for these! - is clearly in Benny’s handwriting. The memory of your body, soft and sleeping in his bed, pulls him back inside. 

After everything that got him here, he could learn to like olives.

END

"This is where righteousness ends It’s a relief to wave this overdue white flag and My blind spots have tortured you enough How much salt could I pour in To think that I called myself a friend."

Alanis Morissette, Olive Branch

[threepandas]

Bad End: Cold War

The receiving room was beautifully furnished. Neither overly ostentatious nor fussy in design. But it had a... coldness to it. This entire god forsaken building was, artfully hidden fireplaces be damned.

And it wasn't just the temperature.

The North may be a cold place, but the people there had always been a hardy one. Kind, if stoic. Not the sort for empty words and flamboyant gestures. So to see a building like this? One so very, very COLD? It spoke of something rotten. Something gone terribly wrong and far beyond control, hidden away out in the countryside where no one could stop it in time.

And it had.

And it DID.

And oh, how we SUFFERED for it, didn't we?

I didn't understand what went wrong. I knew, KNEW, because I was no fool, that the Story would change. Since I was remove a load bearing antagonist, how could it NOT? But... well, I did not wish to die. Certainly not for some other girl's love story. I refused to suffer. To be humiliated. To lead a life of pain and degradation. Just so she might frolic about with men, only to ultimately end up on the throne.

She would either have to find her way to greatness on her own merit, or settle of mediocrity. But it would NOT be built upon the back of my suffering. I gracefully bowed out. Took leave of the stage. And? Comported myself as befit a daughter of my house.

They were not... the most open. In fact, they struggled to connect. To offer or even receive comforts of any kind. But my family LOVED with a fierceness that would lead armies and burn nations. We were ABSOLUTE. And we? Stand TOGETHER. Always.

I would never forget. No matter how many days pass by. WHO I first saw when I opened my eyes. Clustered around my tiny form, rumbled and undignified in a way I would never see them again, with eyes that shone with such RELIEF. I never saw my mother's make run like that again. I half believe she hopes I do not remember.

But I DO.

And I always will.

In the Story, my character was a terror. Haughty and cruel. Sadistic. A wealthy brat that played God right up until all her sins came due. She drove a great deal of the early plot. I? Did none of those things. I threw myself into being a good daughter and a shining reflection upon the parents I loved.

I took my etiquette lessons seriously, to the delight of my teachers. My school work was promptly finished and followed by clarifying questions, to the joy of my tutors. I was polite to my peers. Overlooked their embarrassing early fumbles and mistakes. Helped them navigate social disasters with dignity. Promised nothing yet remained approachable.

My prospects had been ABYSMAL in the Story. It was part of the Narrative's punishment, I think. Though in hindsight, it is an ugly thing to do. A wonder I ever found such a story interesting enough to read. I imagine, it is the difference between tales and lived events? Nonetheless. My father was FLOODED with letters.

My poor mother absolutely HARRASED. Not an outing could go by, without SOMEONE mentioning their DEAR, SWEET son or nephew. To maintain proper appearances and neutrality, I was forced to attend more party's and events then I EVER wished to see.

I felt like a slab of meat up for auction. A show pony. But I also knew it was temporary. That I need only keep an eye out for a good, respectful man. Listen to the rumor mills. Discreetly bribe a few servants for information that "everyone knew". It was, after all, the way of things.

Should have been, the way of things.

But trouble started. Strange infighting, that started between boys and escalated to entire households. Tense, unspoken, lines dividing garden parties that only the day before were amicable. The Protagonist and her Harem of powerful players? Were BLIND to it.

Two of them were PRINCE for God sake! How had they been RAISED, that they could not feel the sudden shift in the socio-political landscape of their Father's court? He certainly could. And it clearly unnerved him. Yet? The Harem, each son's, each HEIRS, of some powerful position? Seemed both blind and deaf to all but the painfully obvious.

And even THAT? Was apparently unconnected to each other in their empty little minds. Had they nothing but flowers and glitter between their ears? One had to assume.

People were... accidentally forgotten. When invitations were sent. Then deliberately. Then OPENLY. Then? They were SNUBBED. Events deliberately scheduled on the same day, at the same time, as another. So all of polite society would have to CHOOSE. It was escalation.

And if it had been on or two houses? It would have been scandalous. Depending on the house, perhaps even worrying. A handful of houses? The king might have tried to get involved. Forcefully mediate. But it... it was somehow so much WORSE. Was EVERYWHERE.

Like someone had carefully examined the entirety of the Court for fault lines, then SWUNG. Some silent, careful, machination that left everyone at everyone's throat. Divided. Weak.

Easy to manipulate and control.

I could not for the life of me find the source of it all. My social season becoming swiftly more and more dangerous. Politically charged. People pushing and PUSHING for alliances I could not and WOULD NOT give without consulting my family. The capital was no longer safe. So... I quietly left.

Letters of vague excuse. Family matters, cousin so-n-so in their time of need, I'm sure you understand. Too late to stop me and under the cover of darkness.

It... I tell myself it is not my fault. That it would have happened either way. That I could not have known. But... but guilt is a heavy thing. It sits like lead in your gut. Like chains around your soul. They were waiting, I think. More, I suspect. Because...

Because the capital all but EXPLODED.

The carnage was IMMEDIATE. Not even a full day later, at a hunting party, the heir to one house shot the second son to another.

He did not survive.

The powder keg finally sparked and it all went up in flames. Alliances that had stood for centuries, shattered. Brother turned against brother. A wedding turned into a bloodbath, as the bride turned on both her family AND the groom, escaped into the night. Fights broke out everywhere.

The festering tension that had gone for so long unspoken? Could no longer be ignored. Would not, be ignored. The king was helpless to stop it all. The gaurd could only do so much. The fluffy, happy, empty headed little world of comfort the Protagonist knew? Was shredded to pieces.

It became starkly clear that the royal family... couldn't handle it.

That their heirs were... Weak.

Captain of the Gaurd, the Prime Minister, even the King's strongest supporter, the Duke of the East, ALL of them had... weak and ineffectual heirs. One or two could be a failing of parentage, but all together? They had let someone sabotage their sons. Make them puppets to be used and discarded at convenience.

The natural suspicion, of course, fell to the one most benefiting from said son's empty headedness. Much to the Harem's horror. No! Not their beloved shared girlfriend! That the world was burning around them? Of no consequence. But upsetting their darling little mouse? Unforgivable!

It was an act of true, genuine, paternal love; that those fools were banished by the king. They would have been killed horribly had they remained.

My family and I? Retreated to our lands. We had enough to survive. Our House and our People came first. We sent no messages, we received none. I practiced my frankly terrible embroidery. My maids gently CORRECTED my frankly terrible embroidery. The country BURNED.

Powerful people were picked off, one by one.

And wouldn't you know it? A new star was rising from the chaos. A voice of reason. Charismatic. Driven. Handsome and powerful, with the bloodline to match. Conveniently allied already to all those people who had replaced the Old Guard in government! How very serendipitous. That those positions should just... open up, like that. That he just HAPPEN to have such qualified people at the ready.

What ARE the odds?

My House knew our monster know. We watched. Careful. As he smiled and smiled. One hand open in welcome, the other? Holding a knife, hidden just out of sight. The king saw him for what he was. And the monster saw a worthy foe in the king. They were, after all, both very Dangerous men.

It was likely swordsmen duel.

Deadly steel clashing, shining, swift as it dances, from attack to defend to attack again. Experience versus youth. Power against power. The king was an old dragon, stood against a tiger come to see him dead. And though the dance was breathtaking? In the end... the dragon was old. Tired. And not the man he had once been.

The tiger won.

The king died in his sleep. Of... natural causes. No one believed it. No one dared say otherwise. The crown princess ascended the throne. She had played the game well. Taken after her Father. Been neglected in favor of her idiot brothers. In the Story, she was to be married off. A side character never to be heard from again.

It seems she was not content with such a fate.

Now she was Queen.

My family and I applauded. Polite. I hoped it marked the end of the strangeness. So many had died. So much had changed. Surely... surely it was over, wasn't it? But then? In the cold light of the early morning hours? A letter. Pristine and on a fine paper. Sat like a viper upon the table before us. A bomb.

My Father had stared at it, over steepled hands, like if he glared long enough? It would simply catch fire and burn away. The Monster's crest. Pressed lovingly into the wax. What... what did That Man want with us?

I watched him grit him teeth. Run his letter opener through paper like he was imagining jerking it across flesh, slitting the bastards throat for DARING to threaten his family. I held my mother's hand as he read. Watched his grip on the pages go white knuckled.

He didn't even tell a servant to burn it.

He slammed his chair back, in a terrible fury, and marched straight to the nearest fireplace to consign the letter to the flames. Over his dead body. Was his announcement. I... I had a terrible feeling it might be, whatever was on those pages.

The letters kept coming.

My Father burned them all.

Then? Trouble started.

And I did not need to see history twice, to know how it would end. I got up early. Waited near the damn GATES. My Father could not burn the letter before I read it, if I was there first. It... it was a marriage proposal. I... I did not understand. Why? For what POSSIBLE reason would he...?

It did not matter though, ultimately. I would be saying yes.

For my family? Anything.

And so I packed. My Father knew he couldn't stop me. I was entirely too much his daughter. It was why he had burned the letters. I was doing exactly what he would have done. He vowed to kill him. Slowly. Held me a swore. He would make me the loviest widow to ever live. My Mother promised to go look up family recipes for poisons. For rats, of course.

I loved them so, so much.

I LOVE them even now.

It is why I sit, back straight, fragrant tea untouched, in this cold but beautiful receiving room. I wear my best dress. The one that makes me look coldly beautiful. Elegant but untouchable. I feel like a winter spirit in it. Something made of ice and bone. I wear it when I want to feel stronger. I don't know if it's helping.

If I hold myself still. Count my breathing and do not think. I can almost... ALMOST? Slip into a trance, I think. Let my mind unfocus. They are keeping me waiting. It's a power play. So be it. You will find me unaffected. Bored even, by your petty displays. I stare peacefully into nothing. A statue in a silent room.

I hope I fucking unnerve them.

Confident footsteps. How quite has it become, that I can hear them, even through the door? I do not turn my head. Note absent-mindedly that the tea before me has long grown cold. This whole damn place is cold. I dispise it. The door is opened for the master of this house. I pointedly do not greet him.

"Aaah~, So COLD" He sing song's, almost chiding, it'd be nearly playful if not for the hint of something darker threaded through his voice. He has an almost victorious little bounce to his step as he approaches. "But then again, I already knew that, didn't I? Frigid, untouchable, and unfeeling~ Now? Now you're MINE~"

He laughs. There is something half disbelieving, half euphoric in the noise. Like he's finally gotten everything he's ever wanted and doesn't know what to DO with himself. He invades my space. Looms. Eyes a touch too wide as he stares. Drinking in the sight of me sitting before him, like he can't believe it's real.

"Do you know, snowdrop? How long it TOOK? What I had to DO to achieve this? Ha ha!" The grin that spills across his feature is unhinged. All I can do is sit, tense and frozen before a madman, as he speaks. "The WHINING, the COMPLAINING, the 'what about meeeee'~! They never shut UP! Wretched and pathetic to the last, they panted after you like DOGS."

Hands slid from his pockets, to come to rest on either side of me on the arm rests, bracing and caging me in. Trapping me as he leaned down. Entirely too close. He smelled like winter air, sharp but clean. His eyes were a blue grey so hauntingly pale, they seemed to bore straight into the soul.

"But they were so GREEDY. So DESPERATE for power. It was EASY, to play them like fools against each other. Make them DANCE. And worth it. Because I get what I wanted~ The brat get her silly little throne, and you?" His grin was all teeth. One hand coming up to rest on my head. "Now you can NEVER escape me."

The hand slid, slow and fingers splayed, downwards. Possessive as each finger brushed, stroked, the side of my face. My jaw. My neck. His eyes following it down with something that could only be blatant lust. His grip tightened around my neck. Not enough to choke. Just, it seemed, to prove to himself that he COULD.

His thumb rest again my pulse, facinated.

Sliding back up to cup my chin, gently forcing my head up, so I had no choice but to meet his eyes. His eyes were dilated. I glared.

"I am going to RUIN you." He whispered, sounding entirely too reverent. As though it were some act of worship he had planned. "Take you apart at the seams. Pretty, pretty little thing. Mine, all mine~"

"I saw you first, you know. You couldn't even be bothered to look at me. I tried all night. That's when I KNEW. I was going to hunt you down. MAKE you mine. Marry you and destroy anyone and anything that stood in my way. And I DID~♡"

"I'm going to have each and every part of you, Darling. Love you and love you until you can't HELP but love me back. We are going to be BEAUTIFUL together. You don't have a choice~♡"

[tomwambsmilk]

have to tell you guys about my favourite disco elysium experience.... my first playthrough I never found the tape for "The Smallest Church in Saint-Saens" so I didn't get to sing karaoke. My second playthrough I still could not find it UNTIL Kim and I were on our way back to town for the tribunal. Somehow I'd missed that little house right up until that moment. I don't know how. Anyways. The tribunal went very very poorly - only 3 Hardie boys survived - but Kim survived as well, and when we came downstairs afterwards to end the game I realized this would be my last chance to sing karaoke, so that's the first thing I did (and nailed the check). And halfway through I just got blown away by the story moment I had inadvertently created. There's an explosion of horrific violence in the town that kills 5 Hardie boys, and Harry, who got injured in the process, finally comes downstairs one morning and, without speaking to anyone first, just goes to the karaoke stage and sings a beautiful sad ballad about a little church for the tiny motley collection of 3 remaining Hardie boys and Garte and Kim and the one or two other Martinaise residents who are here this early in the morning. And somehow that context transforms it from "just" a karaoke song to a requiem. It's not really about the smallest church in saint-saens it's about what Martinaise just lost and how it's going to keep existing anyways

[castielsprostate]

VENOM 3 SPOILERS AHEAD!!! and veryyyy unorganized thoughts below the cuttt!!!

first of all. OH MY GOD. genuinely this was a beautifully executed storyline, with the most bitter, heartwrenching ending. tom hardy when i fucking GET YOU!!!!!!!!!!

okay. im in actual, real life tears over this movie. venom saved eddie's life within, what? 3 days of knowing him? a week tops? and venom brought eddie back from the fucking dead!!!!!!! DESPITE KNOWING!!!!!!!!! WHAT WOULD HAPPEN!!!!!! despite knowing he would trigger the codex, venom still saved eddie's fucking life! which is especially interesting considering the symbiote in mulligan, which i am assuming was in him for a WHILE, left him to die (fair!) at the end of the second movie! venom saved eddie's life. without a second thought.

also this definitely was a love story between eddie and venom. they literally had their break up arc in the second movie(!) and this tied a beautiful, bitter end to their very tragic story. venom saying, to eddie, what martin said. "until we meet again", genuine tears in my eyes. it showed venom's humanity, everything he learned, from eddie and others. to me, personally, venom is still with eddie. they're living symbiotically, with eddie on one side of the door and venom on the other. nierka(??? i totally butchered that lmao). eddie saying i will never forget you buddy while looking at lady liberty. GOD. eddie isn't alone anymore! eddie won't EVER be alone!!!!!!!!!! despite what everyone told him!!!!!!!!! eddie has venom, maybe not physically right now, but he still has a part of him!!!!!!!! they're both free. they're both. GAH.

also there still is a bit of venom left. in a tiny test tube, at the bottom of area 55. don't think i forgot about that!!!!! he's still there, they never showed us that it actually got destroyed. and EYE believe that venom found eddie, after they blew up. and it somehow, in some marvel magic sparkles way reset the codex. they still have each other, until the end!!!!! TILL DEATH DO THEY PART!!!!!!!!!!!!!

genuinely, the writers cared. tom hardy cared!!!!!!! i don't know how many people he had to keep under gunshot to get this, but he gave us a beautiful trilogy about love and friendship and humanity and finding each other. the queerness of it all, the found family (except the chickens. how DARE eddie give the chickens away. for that alone he should've died).

eddie saying he was born with it [the weird arms] also just. god it added another layer didn't it? also what actually happened to that guy. like. he got his bar destroyed, and then he got fucking tazed lmao??? what did they do to him????? also the WAY that in the "sacred timeline" the bartender looked all cleaned up and put together despite the fucking snap 💀💀💀💀 and how the bar was nicer. the disney filter!!!!!!!!!

that also left a very veryyy clear way for them to bring eddie!venom back but in the MCU, because they didn't show the TVA resetting the timeline! venom saying eddie would've made a great father. well. you had carnage and i think it's best you don't try again huh.

i missed anne, but i think that her not being there was. good? it was good. she and eddie truly loved each other as friends and whilst i hoped they'd at least have a phone call or a singular scene together, i do get why they didn't! she moved on with her life, and it was time for eddie to move on with his. her telling venom to keep him safe at the end of the second movie. and he did! he gave his own life for eddie's, he kept his promise. i just. GOD. venom keeping eddie alive as the symbiotehunters kept coming and coming and coming. keeping eddie from looking back, and healing him one. last. time. HE DIDN'T EVEN NEED TO SAY I LOVE YOU!!!!! EDDIE JUST KNEW!!!!!!! EDDIE!!!!!! KNEW!!!!!!!!!!!

eddie saying "but i need him". it had me bawling. BAWLING. but i need him. oh eddie. EDDIE. 😭😭😭😭😭 anne said he was too afraid of commitment and yet. AND YET. he was willing to DIE for an alien!!!!!! and to then say he needs him. god.

was the movie a bit retconn-y? maybe. did they use this as a segway for more movies with different characters? absolutely lmao. was it an ad for crocs? yes that too. but i think that this was a good end. they won't drag it out, they won't destroy a good comic for more money (for now). the song choices were also OUTSTANDING. the symbiotes coming together to save eddie and venom, because they knew!!!!! THEY KNEW!!!!!!!! eddie nor venom sparing a second look at sexy ladies!!!!!!!!!!! the dancing with mrs chen!!!!!!!! GAH

to me, right now, eddie and venom are sitting on a beach, toes in the sand, finally sipping the bloody mary that venom didn't get to drink at the beginning with miss chen on one side, anne and dan enjoying the ocean, and agent mulligan on the other side. alive, happy, together. and the bartender. he's there too. for funsies.

[butchreg]

U^ｪ^U  shauna shipman agere headcanons !

link to all yellowjackets agere headcanons ^__^

shauna will be referred to with she/he prns .

shauna is a flip with a caregiver lean ! she is jackie's caregiver && loves taking care of her puppy but sometimes needs to regress as well . shauna regresses typically to around 6 or 7 but also sometimes a little older or a little younger . she doesn't ever really regress to baby age but sometimes she's just a little tot .

shauna's regression is primarily involuntary but sometimes he'll regress on purpose too . if he's real small then it's probably been triggered by something but if it's voluntary she'll be on the older side .

i think shauna was one of those kids who started reading really young && her favorite activity while regressed or taking care of a regressor is reading ! jackie's too tiny to be able to read but shauna loves reading jackie little stories even if he's too little to really follow them . little!shauna is really proud of how well she can read ... she's always showing off around the other littles && asking if she can read to them .

on top of loving to read shauna loves word games like scrabble , word searches && crossword puzzles . he's really proud of having a good vocabulary && always asking about new words he comes across . she can be a bit of a little shit about it , bragging that she knows more words than the other littles or taking over if she doesn't like how someone else does the voices when reading ... .. shauna does Not play about character voices >:-L .

cg!shauna making little spelling tests for older littles like tai && nat , giving them soooo many high fives when they get the hard ones right . trying to teach younger littles like jackie && lottie the alphabet , spelling out little words with blocks . "p. u. p. pup ! like you , bug ! can you say pup ?" jackie usually just babbles in response but shauna praises her anyway ! "wow , you're so smart jax ! just like mama !" that always makes jackie clap && giggle .

legos ! little!shauna loooooves her legos . big brothers!nat & van always help her with the harder sets . she has suuuch a big collection — the other yellowjackets always get her legos for her birthday .

shauna loves mystery books like nancy drew && the hardy boys ... she has a massive collection of them && they're her favorites to read whenever she's regressed . he's suuper good at solving the mysteries && gets so proud when he figures it out before the characters . he always tells tai about them . " tai guess what ?" "shhhh no spoilers, shaun . i haven't read that one yet !"

shauna's a pretty independent little most of the time but when she's sleepy or sick it's a whole different story . following tai around , clinging to her . reading in tai's lap && crying when tai needs to get up . if she's in a mood she'll throw tantrums if left alone .

shauna's usually very confident but on the rare chance he's feeling shy or scared he'll hide behind tai or jackie . not a big fan of new people — if someone new comes around && shauna's feeling small he's using tai or jackie as a shield && refusing to talk .

shauna loves to make up stories as well as read them ! whether she's taking care of another regressor or regressed herself she's always got a story to tell . he's a bit of a yapper when regressed always going on about something .

[13atoms]

Heart Moon (Geralt x Reader)

A little Valentine’s day drabble! There’s a heart moon above our sleeping heroes, and the beginning of a love story growing between them. | 1.2k | Fluff/Romance

   💐♥ 💐 ♥ 💐 ♥ 💐 ♥ 💐 ♥ 💐 ♥ 💐 ♥ 💐 ♥ 💐 ♥ 💐 ♥ 💐 ♥ 💐 ♥ 💐 ♥ 💐

You groaned, rolled your shoulders, and curled up against the cold forest floor. Across from you, Geralt was soundly asleep, the proud line of his nose catching the moon light, the harsh line of his jaw softened by his slumped neck.

Roach was somewhere behind you, mooching around in the undergrowth, not far from her tether. Jaskier was curled up on furs, sleeping in a bundle with his lute strung up on a tree, safe from mud and danger.

Night watch was no fun, but it gave you a moment alone. And that was rare, especially since Jaskier had rejoined your party a few weeks ago. You liked having him there. The noise, the joviality, his complaining just as your feet began to ache. You liked him, his spirit and his company, a fellow human beside Geralt’s superhuman stamina and senses.

The Witcher had never made you feel like a burden, but beside him it was hard to feel like you were pulling your weight.

The bard’s presence had brought something else into focus. That your relationship with him was different, to the one you shared with Geralt.

You had long suspected it, that there was something unusual in the way you curled around him when the night was cold, or the way he never finished eating until you were full. He never finished the water skeins until your thirst was quenched. Never let you carry your own bags until he was at capacity.

He didn’t do that for Jaskier. You didn’t want to hold Jaskier like you wanted to hold Geralt.

And late into the night, you’d stay awake into Geralt’s night watch shifts, just for the chance to talk to him alone again.

You liked Jaskier, loved him, as a friend and a confidant.

You’d never longed for his company as you longed for Geralt’s.

It was a red moon, rising strong and high above the continent, leaving a strange glow on everything.

Geralt’s pale skin was tinted with it, the water nearby reflecting it, the light dissipating to pink as it painted all that was below.

There were rumours, about pink moons. Old wives’ tales, stories for children. For romantics.

You wondered how many Geralt had seen, in his long life. This was only your second – you had seen one as a child, and laughed at the celebrations which took place in your village.

It was a night for mischief and flowers and kindness. Gifting and smiling and loving.

You watched how the light caught Geralt, his pale hair fanned out against his sleep mat and face pressed to a fur. Perhaps, a few dozen miles away, the nearest village would be celebrating as yours had. Maybe it was celebrated no where else on the continent. It was so rare, you had never thought to ask.

A pang of heartache for your home threatened to overwhelm you, tightening your throat and forcing your gaze from Geralt like he might feel the intensity of it.

Without much further thought, you arose, beginning the hunt for flowers.

The season was just beginning, but hardy early species survived. Snow-white droplets of petals and tiny pale blue flowers, blood-reds and buttery-yellows cut by your knife and gathered in your hands until you realised you’d wandered too far. Trying not to make too much noise, and not truly worried, you rushed back, the crook of your arm full of delicate blooms.

As you returned the moon was directly overhead, Geralt fidgeting in his sleep at the sound of your return. His golden eyes batted open, scanning the campsite until they settled on you.

“Sorry,” you whispered, descending back onto your sleep mat, flowers in your grip.

“Not to worry. We must be due to swap soon,” he murmured, voice low for fear of waking Jaskier, and gruff with sleep.

He rolled onto his side, perched up on an elbow. You were always amazed at how quickly he recovered from being awoken. He missed nothing, eyes flickering  to the flowers in your lap.

You were making quick work of stripping the stems of leaves, knife slipping easily down the delicate stems.

The Witcher watched your hands for a few moments, before rolling onto his back.

“Heart moon,” he murmured, and you swore you saw a smirk on his lips, the flash of his pointed canines.

Both of you stared up at it through the clearing in the canopy of the trees, knife resting still in your lap.

Geralt took his time as he sat up, finding a place against his bags to lean, before gesturing for the flowers in your lap.

“Collect your own,” you teased, a laugh on your tongue at his dejection.

“I’m warm here. Give me half.”

You faked a bit of grumbling, but acquiesced, and soon Geralt had his own pocket knife out, stripping the stems with the ease he stripped flesh from bone.

You returned to your task, taking quick glances up to see the concentration on the Witcher’s face.

“I hope these weren’t for Jaskier,” he grumbled, no malice in his voice.

You smiled to yourself, focussed on removing the roots from a bunch of conical purple flowers.

“Just felt like it. It’s tradition, under a heart moon.”

The Witcher hummed in agreement.

“Tradition to be given flowers, I believe. Who were you giving them to?”

“Both of you. Myself. Roach.”

When you looked up, Geralt raised an eyebrow. You didn’t talk about home much, but now felt right. A quiet moment, just the two of you.

“We always gave flowers on a blood moon. To children, parents, friends, siblings, neighbours…”

“It was always lovers, I thought.”

You fixed him with a look, stilling the blade in your hands once again.

“Sometimes lovers,” you confirmed.

“It must vary, across the continent.”

“Must do,” you conceded.

You’d started to fashion little bouquets, your own flower pile split in two, smiling to yourself as you found twine to wrap them into neat forms. Geralt watched with unveiled interest.

With a groan at the movement, you uncrossed your legs and stood, placing one bundle by Jaskier’s sleeping form. The other you nestled into Geralt’s travel pack. Sitting back down, you noticed Geralt’s movements had stopped. His eyes glanced between the bundles, then back to his lap. Finally, to you. You stifled a yawn, looking back to the bright red moon where it sat between trees and the stars.

“You should get some rest,” he murmured, voice quiet, hands unmoving by his flowers.

For a few moments, you took one last look at the moon. You might see another in your lifetime, but it wouldn’t be like this. Not with your closest friends, one of them a Witcher who you hoped might see you as even more precious than that.

You took in the image of Geralt, lap covered in flowers and golden eyes fixed on you.

Finally, you laid down, curling beneath blankets and on your side facing the Witcher.

“Goodnight, Geralt.”

“Goonight,” he murmured.

You laid still, eyes closed, listening to the sound of him slicing at leaves, imagining him bathed in that pink moonlight.

As you were drifting between wakefulness and sleep you heard him stand, moving away, no doubt not wandering far. You let sleep take you.

When you awoke it was to the early morning light, the heart moon vanished, the Witcher nearby. Golden eyes flickering away from yours as they opened, and you found yourself half-way buried in flowers.

[anyamaris]

Title: Devoted To You

Word Count-1359

Summary-As you tend your garden, you're unaware of the presence watching over you.

Pairing- GuardianAngel!Soobin x F!Reader

Trope/AU-Supernatural/dark fluff/light yandere?

Warnings-Allusion to past abuse, allusion to death, mentions of harm (not from Soobin), Soobin is enthralled with you so that's where the light yandere comes in. I think that's it? If you're sensitive to allusion to abuse, I'd avoid.

A/N-This is my second entry for The Language Of Flowers event from @cultofdionysusnet! Thank you to @starlitmark for being my beta reader and @sanjoongie for approving my little dark twist and listening to me talk it all out, I appreciate you both so very much for it!

Also my wonderful @kwanisms for the GORGEOUS banner, as always you're a true artistic goddess!

Tags- @cultofdionysusnet @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @yoonguurt @shinestarhwaa @stardragongalaxy @kpop-stories-21 @starlitmark@millennial-fangirl @ericssmile @wooahaeproductions@changbinslovelylegs @yeosxxx @millennial-fangirl @starillusion13 @duchesskaren @minki-moo @woosanbby @frenchkisstheabyss

@cafekitsune Thank you for banners and dividers! 🤍💜🤍

I included my moodboard beneath the cut!

The soft chatter of birdsong welcomes you as you step outside to greet the dawn.

The amber hue of the sunrise dances upon the fresh morning dew, enhancing the already tranquil beauty of your quaint garden.  

The tiny hairs on the back of your neck stir in the cool spring breeze as you tie it back, eager to check the growth of your precious blooms.  

Kneeling to inspect the seedlings, you can’t help but coo over the tiny little buds already showing off a variety of colors.  

Each sprout receives your gentle touch, every seedling treated to a tender caress; a soft smile graces your lips as you take in the life you’ve steadily coaxed from the barren earth with your own two hands.

It seems as if ages have passed since escaping to your sanctuary in the quiet countryside; since you’d left behind the chaos of your former life.  

As you walk amongst the garden you’ve carefully cultivated, you can’t help but remember the muddy plot of land you’d been faced with last autumn upon your arrival.

It was as if the land was a representation of your own personal rebirth, the ground once riddled with rocks and weeds had been meticulously cleared away to make room for new life.  

No more were the strangling roots that lurked beneath the soil, gone were the dangerous stones that threatened the fragile growth of your precious plants.  

Your smile slips a bit as you remember the event that brought you here.  

Shaking your head to rid yourself of your dark memories, you brush your fingertips over the tight buds of a nearby bloom, your eyes drawn to the one anomaly in your otherwise well plotted garden.  

A beautiful cluster of white roses.

Unable to stop yourself, you wander over to the unexpected addition to your garden.  

The long green stems are strong and hardy, thick thorns lining the length.  

Carefully you reach out to cup a single blossom, stroking the silky white petals.  

Despite being colorless, these stand out amongst the colorful variety of plants you’ve chosen.  

You can’t quite explain it, but the appearance of this rose bush sets your mind at ease.

Upon your arrival here, you hadn’t paid much mind to the environment at first; terror had driven you far away from what you used to call home to this unfamiliar oasis.

The fall leaves had coated the barren yard, and before you knew it, winter was descending and you’d only given thought to your survival.  

Time had passed, and the fear of being found had gradually abated by the time you’d truly begun to plan your new hobby.  

The kind people in town had directed you to a small shop, and you’d picked out each and every little seed pack carefully.

You intended to nurture your new life much as you are this plot of land: slowly, deliberately, hoping for your own internal restoration as you watched the slow growth around you.  

Leaning down to inhale the fragrant rose in your hand, you let your eyes flutter closed as the warmth of the climbing sun kisses your skin.  

Awakening every morning was a blessing, you knew this deep in your heart, and these precious white roses remind you of that.  

A sense of healing and calm radiates over you as you open your eyes to the beautiful blooms.  

Smiling, you take a moment longer to let your gaze linger on the plant, your fingers careful to not draw blood from the thorny stems.

Pondering if you’ve grown your own barbs to protect yourself, you turn to make your way into your small sanctuary as you hum along to the birdsong around you.

Somewhere deep inside your soul, you thank whatever force had answered your prayers on that dark, horrible night months ago as you treasure the new life you’ve been given.

A tall figure stands openly outside of your garden gate, unseen to your mortal eyes.

He can’t help but beam as he watches you appreciate the large rose bush, his heart stuttering at how delicately you caress the bloom.

How he wishes that you could know what this means to him…what you mean to him.  

The bright morning sun illuminates a smile that was nowhere to be seen months ago, the hollows beneath your eyes now flush with health.  

He whispers your name reverently as he takes you in, only the small blue bird perched on his shoulder chirruping in response.  

“She won’t ever know.” He responds, receiving only a fluttering of wings in response.  

“She doesn’t need to, don’t be selfish.” 

His words are more directed at himself and he can’t help but scold his own greedy thoughts.  

How he longed to tell you his name, to hear it fall from your lips like a prayer.  

“Soobin. My name is Soobin.” he whispers, as he does every day, fully knowing you’ll never hear his voice or his words.

This does not make him unhappy or dejected, as he has the unique privilege of being your guardian angel.

Golden light surrounds you as you go about your morning, and he admires how blissful you look as you safely go through your day.  

His features darken as he once more remembers the night you called to him, the horrible creature who was choking the precious life from you.

His large white wings tremble in recollection; your lifeless form in that monster’s grip, each shallow breath close to becoming your last.

There is no doubt your escape was a blur, but he could recall each moment vividly.  

From the moment he spirited you away from that horrible situation, he’d sworn to you and himself that he would never leave your side.  

For when he’d torn you from that brute’s arms and taken you to safety, there was a moment that shook him to his very core.

He rests his long delicate fingers over his chest, his eternal heart speeding up as he recalls your eyes as they met his.

In that one brief moment, as you gazed upon him at the brink of death, you’d uttered only a few words.

But you’d spoken them directly to him, you’d seen him as your light had trembled on the verge of extinguishing.  

“You came…thank you...”

Those precious words and the grateful look in your eyes had given him his true purpose.  

For Soobin, it mattered little that you would never know his name.

That one sacred moment your eyes had met, he’d vowed to never leave your side.  

Each morning you looked upon those white roses, it was as if you were looking upon him once more.

Every time you touched the silken petals of a bloom, it was as if you spoke those words to him again.  

There was nothing he wouldn’t do for you now, his delicate mortal angel.  

You’d given him a gift the day you’d called out to him, and he would continue to keep you safe from any harm until the very end.

He watched as you’d slowly begun to recover from the tragedy he’d saved you from; he’d seen the fear turn to hope gradually with each passing day.  

Unbeknownst to you, that beast who’d threatened to take you from this earth had come to find you.

On a dark winter’s night, that fiend had attempted to creep into the sanctuary you now called home in order to snuff out the light in your eyes once more.  

Yet, now you weren’t alone.  

Now, you had your Guardian Angel and there was no way Soobin would allow this malicious being to continue to threaten you.  

He watches as you hum a small tune, the small blue bird flitting off to sing along with you, a smile curling his lips as you laugh with delight.

You need never know that the monster that once stalked you in the night was now feeding the very roses you admired every morning.  

For Soobin, there was nothing he wouldn’t do for you, and his eyes shine with joy as he basks in the sound of your beautiful voice.

He would always remain by your side.

Devoted to you.

[tinyalechardy]

Oh... oh no. OH NO!!

This is not a drill I repeat this is not a drill. Tiny hardy escaped the box!!

Oh.. wait he's just hanging out.

[quitealotofsodapop]

"Questions" Chapter 2 preview.

I've decided to merge a lot of the story elements from the Hero Is Back game with the film, as the game's worldbuilding is pretty tight.

Basically after Dasheng saves Liuer from falling into a ravine (via the Stone Guardian with the seal) + getting his foot crushed in his attempts to break the cuff on his arm; they come across a young hunter who tosses his axe at Dasheng thinking he's kidnapping the kids. Once Liuer clears things up with the hunter (Boqin), the older human explains that the village nearby, Gao village, has suffered a rash of kidnappings recently. The kidnappings all perpetrated by mountain yaoguai led by a larger boar demon.

Liuer basically guilts Dasheng into acting the hero. The gang get brought to Gao Village, where the Squire Gao explains that a boar demon has recently taken residence outside the village, and that they suspect him of being the same demon leading the kidnappings - especially since he seems gluttonous enough to try.

Dasheng: "Is there any weakness this pig seems to have?" Squire Gao: "Yes, but it's not one I wish to risk my daughters' health over." Dasheng, raises eyebrow knowingly: "Women?" Squire Gao, embarrassed: "Yes. Especially taller women with red hair..." Liuer: "Dasheng! You're tall with red hair! You could draw him out!" Dasheng: "I'm aware of that, brat. But my powers aren't working like they used to, I can't just change my appearance into a pretty human." Liuer: "You don't need powers to make a good disguise, Dasheng." Dasheng, sighing: "You're right." (*turns to Squire Gao*) "You got any of your daughters' spare things?" (*cut to Dasheng standing outside the pig demon's lair, dressed in a hanfu with flowers in his fur*) Dasheng: "This pig can't be that desperate..." Zhu Bajie, Tex Avery-esque reaction: "HELLO PRETTY LADY!!!" Dasheng: "Well I be damned."

Eventually they fight monkey to pig until Zhu Bajie sees the cuff, and realises who he's fighting.

Zhu Bajie: "Sun Wukong! You're the reason I'm in this form!" Sun Wukong: "I don't remember making bacon." Zhu Bajie: "Hardy-har. I was once Marshal Canopy! When you felled my armies in heaven, I lost my place amongst the immortals and was reborn a pig!" Sun Wukong: "And is that why you've been stealing human babies?" Zhu Bajie: "What??? Why would I want to steal babies? They stink and scream all the time - there's less annoying prey out there. Plus I've been avoiding meat since Lady Guanyin told me to wait around til some tiny monk collects me." Liuer, popping in: "You met the bodhisattva!?" Zhu Bajie: (*surprised pig squeal!*) "AH! Tiny monk!!!"

And now the gang is +1 pig.

It turns out to be a case of mistaken identity. The game has a boar demon enemy/boss attacking the village at the same time you meet Bajie as a red herring.

Dasheng: (*looking between Bajie and the boar demon leading the mountain trolls*) Dasheng, offended: "Can you all seriously not tell two completely different demons apart from one another!?" The Gao Villagers: (*nervously avoid eye contact*)

And after thats all dealt with, Bajie mentions that the rash of kidnappings sounds eerily similar to an incident that occurred a century or two ago where a king sacrificed 100 "pure souls" for immortality...

Dasheng groans as Liuer looks up at him expectantly.

[rjzimmerman]

About five years ago, I spent an afternoon at The Tortoise Research and Captive Rearing Site at the Twentynine Palms Marine base. Got to hold several little ones (with late gloves, of course). Appreciated all the work being done to save the desert tortoise.

Excerpt from this story from the LA Times:

 The two tiny tortoises emerged from their burrows as soon as they detected Brian Henen’s footsteps, eager for the handfuls of bok choy and snap peas that would soon be tossed their way.

It will be a few years before the tortoises, roughly the size of playing cards, have shells tough enough to avoid becoming prey for the ravens soaring above. So for now, they live with roughly 1,000 others of their species in a sheltered habitat ringed by barbed wire and draped in netting.

The elaborate setup on the Marine Corps Air Ground Combat Center is designed to protect the tortoises not only from ravens, coyotes and other predators, but from rumbling tanks, live explosives and anything else that might put them in harm’s way at the 1,189-square-mile Mojave Desert base.

“The desert tortoise is considered a keystone species, which means that they have a disproportionate effect on the entire ecosystem,” says Henen, a civilian who heads the conservation branch of the base’s Environmental Affairs Division.

The tortoises pockmark the desert floor with burrows that other animals use for shelter, and disperse the seeds of native plants in their waste. “They’re influencing what else can exist on the landscape,” Henen said.

With its barbed-wire enclosure, some call this place Tortoise Gitmo, after the U.S. Navy’s Guantanamo Bay base and prison camp in Cuba. Others call it the Tortoise Bordello, although the young tortoises are released before they are mature enough to breed.

Officially it’s called the Tortoise Research and Captive Rearing Site, and since it was established in 2005 it has helped scientists learn how to protect a species that’s threatened by human encroachment, disease and climate change.

In the first iteration of the program, biologists gathered eggs from wild females and raised the hatchlings until they were hardy enough to stand a chance against predators and drought, in a process known as head-starting.

The facility got an influx of new tenants in 2017, when the military relocated tortoises to make way for a controversial expansion of the base’s training grounds. Biologists decided to head-start about 550 young tortoises that were taken from expansion areas.

[jadegretz]

Black Cat: Shadow's Seduction by Jade Gretz

Felicia Hardy, the Black Cat, perched atop a gargoyle overlooking the opulent penthouse suite. Moonlight bathed the cityscape in an ethereal glow, casting jagged shadows that danced on the polished marble floor. Below, her mark, the notorious art collector Lionel Beaumont, snored softly amidst a room overflowing with priceless artifacts.

Tonight wasn't about jewels or paintings. Tonight, Felicia was after something far more valuable – Beaumont's prized possession, the Amulet of Bastet. Legend whispered of the amulet's power – the ability to manipulate probability, to twist fate to the wearer's whim.

Felicia, ever the pragmatist, dismissed the legends as mere superstition. But the amulet's historical significance and rumored curse – a descent into maddening paranoia – made it the perfect bait for a far more elaborate con.

Her plan, a web of deceit as intricately woven as a spider's silk, had been meticulously crafted for weeks. It involved a forged invitation to a secret auction for a rival collector, a meticulously crafted replica of the amulet, and a chilling dose of psychological horror.

With a silent chuckle, Felicia slipped through an open window, her lithe form blending seamlessly with the shadows. Avoiding the laser grid guarding the priceless paintings, she made her way towards Beaumont's private study.

There, nestled within a glass case, lay the Amulet of Bastet – a golden scarab adorned with shimmering blue lapis lazuli. Its hypnotic beauty sent a shiver down Felicia's spine, a sensation that had nothing to do with the night air.

Replacing the real amulet with the replica, a near-perfect forgery crafted by a skilled technician, Felicia planted her real prize – a tiny, innocuous earpiece.

The next morning, news of the "auction" reached Beaumont. A furious bellow echoed through his penthouse as he stormed his study, his eyes widening in horror at the empty display case. The Amulet of Bastet, his prized possession, was gone.

Felicia, disguised as a concerned socialite named "Olivia Thorne," arrived shortly after, alerted by a "rumor" …(see the rest of the story at deviantart.com/jadegretzAI). For more supergirl, chun li, batgirl, tifa, lara croft, wonder woman, rogue and much more, please visit my page at www.deviantart.com/jadegretzai - Thanks for your support :)

[upward-centrifuge]

the seadweller post, aka the first and last time i will give this much of a shit about homestuck fish.

No clue how to introduce this, so I'm just going to tell you what is true about seadwellers canonically. Seadwellers are completely distinct from everyone else on the hemospectrum, including other highbloods, in a way that isn't dissimilar to the aristocracy. Only the fuschias are actually rulers, but the violets are still royalty. Like, explicitly they are royalty. The seadwellers live in their own little world that is separate from everyone else, and they are ALL royalty. They don't have to worry about culling, they don't have to worry about money, and yet they are still people in an unjust system and this does have consequences.

In fragments, for this reason, I portray seadweller society very blatantly as an aristocracy. And the thing about an aristocracy is that it is its own tiny society where the stakes are different, the rules are different, and there are countless eyes on you at all times.

Don't get me wrong, these people are immensely privileged. They experience almost none of the risks and dangers the average Alternian faces. However, they are locked constantly in a risky social game. One in which other people are often the pawns.

They live in a world of constant power struggle, turmoil, and subterfuge, where every single action means something. This is what compels people about period dramas that focus on royalty and rich people. The aristocracy suffers no real threats, so they play convoluted power games that can be much more fun to watch.

Now, I don't focus on all this much in fragments, because one, that's a lot of screen time to spend on something ultimately more or less irrelevant to the story; and two, I don't actually find this kind of subtle power play all that compelling. It's nice sometimes, as a little treat, but you're not gonna find me watching Downton Abbey. lol.

Why I bring this all up is again, to reiterate: the seadweller aristocracy is Like That because they are at the very top. They suffer no real threats, so they have to create their own hostile little society. This goes for the hemospectrum, too. When everyone in your little society-within-a-society is at the very top of the food chain, you can't use normal hierarchy as a quick way of controlling people. So you create your own heirarcies. Seadweller society in fragments is hyper-aware of physical differences. Ethnic and regional features that are just considered "people look different depending on where they're from, big surprise" by other castes become distinct ethnic groups in the eyes of seadwellers, and it's how they form their pecking order.

In the eyes of your average Alternian, if you put a member of their caste from somewhere cold and a member of their caste from somewhere hot next to each other and then asked them to tell you the difference, they might identify ethnic traits, like one of them being fatter, but they're just as likely to point out those traits as any other traits, like the two being different genders. They're also most likely not going to attribute those physical differences to anything other than random chance.

Meanwhile, if you asked your average seadweller to do the same, they'd immediately be able to identify one as a larger-than-life, brightly colored tropic-dweller, and the other as a hardy, blubbery icefish. This shit is a big deal to them, and they're pretty racist about it.

This is why I mentioned my seadweller hierarchy as something I think a larger fanbase would love to misinterpet. I fear that the collective tumblr fandom hivemind would see that and decide that rich people are oppressed on my version of Alternia. In fact, what I am actually trying to portray is the subtle power dynamics that the obscenely rich and powerful create amongst themselves, and those dynamics do frequently involve race and ethnicity. Turn away from the British/European upper class, look at Robber Barons in America or the games that politicians play amongst themselves. Hell, look at the American middle class. There's a lot to observe.

[memento-morianon]

Hey Memento Mori I would like to ask you did I can know more about culture and history of each sapient species? And how long each them live , when they hit their equivment of 18,30,35,40,50,60,70,80,90 and 100? Sorry If I made you angry fir so many questions or anwers are arleady here.

I'm never upset about questions! This project is a passion of mine and I could info dump about it all day lol.

Gimme a bit to prep all the info and I'll reblog this with more stuff later, but for a quick answer on ages at least, here are the main people species from shortest lifespan to longest lifespan:

- pixies, which are giant sapient insects in the same family as bees/wasps/ants, individually live around 10-15 years on average. Queen pixies live longer, with an average age of 25 years, and male pixies have the shortest lives at about 6 months from the time they complete pupation into an adult form. Males only biological purpose is to mate and then die, as is common in many eusocial insect species. But their short lives are not used to dismiss or abuse them, as they are considered highly important and given a great deal of honor and ceremony. Pixie hives claim a much longer lifespan as a collective whole, because they are mysteriously able to share memory with each other and this hive memory is passed along through every generation.

- goblins, which are a type of amphibian, on average used to live only 50 years, but since the time of the goblin revolution, they have begun to live longer, reaching 80 and even 90 years at the oldest. This shift in life expectation is attributed to the increase of mutual care between people species, which accelerated the advancement of medical science. It may also be attributed to those goblins that skip winter hibernation by staying in the warm homes of their mammalian friends during the cold months.

- quetzalin, the bird folk, live around 100 years at best, though most die in their 80s or 90s. They are far more physically active and have a high metabolism compared to many other people species, which contributes to their relatively shorter lifespan.

- coastal merfolk, centaurs, gnomes, and orcs all tend to live between 100-150 years of age. The orc who dies at the beginning of my story, He-esh, lived to 150 (subject to change based on other timeline details, but 150 was my original plan). All of them are mammalian species with hardy bodies built to withstand difficult environments and changing seasons. The coastal merfolk are pinnipeds (related to seals and walruses and sea lions) while the centaurs are descended from chalicotheres and the orcs and gnomes are of the same family as pigs.

- dwarves on average live between 200-250 years of age. They are actually the last remaining hominid species, more closely related to Neanderthals than homo sapiens, and they are also built quite sturdy with a more durable metabolism than the modern human.

- elves, stroi, and drow, the primate sylvanid family, all tend to live up to 500 years at best, with the elves often outlasting their cousin species. However, more recent studies have found that the sylvanid lifespan is slowly decreasing. This may be attributed to higher activity in the younger generations which has altered their metabolism, and this change of activity was mostly brought about by an increase of interspecies interaction, as younger sylvanids are spending more and more time in diverse communities. It is now speculated that the most recent generations may only live to 300 years on average.

- one exception to the longer lives of sylvanids are the drow matriarchs, who give birth to every child of their colony. They are a eusocial mammal species, with the majority being infertile and males being less common. Matriarchs tend to have a shorter life expectation due to the physical exertion of giving birth so many times. They're not built for it quite as well as pixie queens are, and frankly the pixie queens only need to lay a lot of tiny eggs, while drow matriarchs give live birth, the majority of which are twins. On average, drow matriarchs undergo their unique secondary puberty at 50 years of age and typically give birth once a year for 100 years, at which point they undergo menopause and face a swift health decline, living to the age of 200-250 at best.

- the ogres, a mountain dwelling species of sapient giant sloths, have the longest lifespan of any people species, living around 800 years on average. This extremely long life expectancy is attributed to their much slower metabolism and relaxed lifestyle. However, many people forget that ogres have such long lives because they are often viewed by others as less intelligent due to their seemingly limited vocabulary and their lack of collective settlements or even large nomadic camps. They tend to live in very small isolated groups that only travel a little to gather with other ogres for holidays or to trade with other people. They interact the most with dwarves, who live in their territory. Ogres will frequently leave their more vulnerable young ones in dwarf caverns for safety.