#Five Sisters Zoo

[thepastisalreadywritten]

By Brian Melley, AP News

13 January 2024

LONDON (AP) — An unlikely refugee from the war in Ukraine — a rare Asiatic black bear — arrived at his new home in Scotland on Friday and quickly took to a meal of cucumbers and watermelon.

The 12-year-old Yampil was named for a village in the Donetsk region where he was one of the few survivors found by Ukrainian troops in the remains of a bombed-out private zoo.

Yampil, who had previously been called Borya, was discovered by soldiers who recaptured the devastated city of Lyman during the Kharkiv counteroffensive in the fall of 2022, said Yegor Yakovlev of Save Wild, who was among the first of many people who led the bear to a new life.

The bear was found in a menagerie that had long been abandoned by its owners.

Almost all the other animals had died of hunger, thirst or were struck by bullets or shrapnel and some were eaten by Russian troops.

Yampil narrowly missed the same fate, suffering a concussion from a projectile that landed nearby.

“The bear miraculously survived,” said Yakovlev, also director of the White Rock Bear Shelter, where the bear recovered.

“Our fighters did not know what to do with him, so they started looking for rescue.”

What followed was an odyssey that your average bear rarely makes, as he was moved to Kyiv for veterinary care and rehab, then shipped to a zoo in Poland, then to an animal rescue in Belgium, where he spent the past seven months, before landing in the United Kingdom.

Brian Curran, owner of Five Sisters Zoo in West Calder, Scotland, said his heart broke when he learned of the plight of the threatened Asiatic black bear.

“He was in terrible condition; five more days and they wouldn’t have been able to save him,” Curran said. “We were just so amazed he was still alive and well.”

The bear was skinny but not malnourished when he was found, said Frederik Thoelen, a biologist at the Nature Help Center in Belgium.

He now is estimated to weigh a healthy 440 pounds (200 kilograms), Thoelen said.

The nature center in Belgium, which usually treats injured wildlife and returns them to their natural settings, has taken several animals rescued from the war in Ukraine, including a wolf, a caracal cat and four lions, though those animals had not experienced the ordeal Yampil endured.

It was remarkable how calm Yampil was when he arrived in Belgium, Thoelen said.

The bear was trained in the past two weeks to move from his enclosure to the crate that would transport him across Belgium to Calais, France, then across the English Channel on a ferry to Scotland.

Pastries from a local bakery were used for good measure to lure him Thursday into the cage, where he was sedated for the journey.

“We want to use the food that he likes most, and for most bears — and for people also — it’s sweet, unhealthy foods,” Thoelen said.

Thoelen had a sense of the bear’s weight as he drove the crate to the port.

“Every time when we had a red light or a traffic jam, when the bear moved a little bit, you could feel the van moving also,” he said.

“You could feel it was a heavy animal in the back of the car.”

Yampil arrived at the zoo about 15 miles (25 kilometers) west of Edinburgh and immediately made himself at home.

He feasted on cukes — said to be his favorite food — and melon, said Adam Welsh, who works at Five Sisters.

The Asiatic black bear is listed on the International Union for Conservation of Nature’s Red List of Threatened Species as vulnerable to extinction in the wild, where it can be found in central and southern Asia, Russia, and Japan.

It’s known for the distinctive white crescent patch on its chest that gives it the nickname moon bear. It can live for up to 30 years in zoos.

It’s not clear if the bear will go into hibernation. The winter has been warmer than usual but colder days are on the horizon.

The zoo has other bears, but Yampil is the only Asian bear and unique in other ways.

“We’ve had circus bears, for example, that have been rescued,” Welsh said.

“We’ve had bears rescued from places like roadside restaurants where they’ve been used as kind of roadside attractions and been kept in subpar conditions. But this is the first time that we’ve worked with an animal that’s been rescued from a war zone.”

Scottish zoo welcomes black bear which survived war in Ukraine

13 January 2024

🖤🐻🤎

[azvolrien]

I didn't have time for photo uploads yesterday evening, but I also visited Five Sisters Zoo for the first time. This zoo started out as more of a small-animal park - you know, penguins, tortoises, guinea pigs and so on - but they've expanded in recent years, collaborating with a centre in Belgium to provide homes for some much larger animals. I'm not sure if all of said larger animals are rescue cases - there was nothing to say as much about the snow leopard - but the lions were rescued from a circus (they're all males, but were neutered at a young age, so never grew manes) and one of the bears was found in a cage in the back room of a restaurant.

They also have a few animals that I haven't seen at other zoos, such as the fossa, the clouded leopard, and the fishing cats. I have seen cheetahs at other zoos, but these are apparently the only ones in Scotland; they weren't rescued from an abusive situation like the lions were, but were donated by a private collector who decided to do the sensible thing and stop keeping four fully-grown cheetahs as pets.

The 'Five Sisters' of the name have nothing to do with the family who run the zoo, but come from an impressive old spoil heap a bit to the west. West Lothian was a very industrial area back in the day, so old spoil heaps are not in short supply.

[incorrectsmashbrosquotes]

Idea for an animated kid's movie/comedy.

So there's this dinosaur park that's a thinly veiled Jurassic Park knock-off (call it Cretaceous Island), and it's a bit of a toy story situation, in that the dinosaurs can talk and communicate when the humans aren't looking, mostly at night.

The dinos don't really want to break out since they like their cushy zoo lives and five-star treatment from the staff, so they're willing to get oggled by a bunch of twelve year olds to keep the food coming.

Out main characters are a T-Rex, two raptor sisters, and a wise old triceratops. The raptors are bored with their lives and long for adventure, the triceratops is a wise-old mentor figure, and the T-Rex is lonely since the park won't engineer any other T-Rex's for safety reasons.

Through magical shenanigans they get sent back to the actual Cretaceous period.

Now these pampered genetically engineered dinos have to survive in the savage dinosaur era. To underscore the differences between them, the future dinos are animated as pretty standard cartoon dinosaurs, a la Land Before Time, while the dinosaurs from the past are animated to be as scientifically accurate as possible.

The dinos go through shenanigans, amke friends in the past, evade predators, and eventually make their way home through magic portal stuff, except for the T-Rex who elects to stay behind since he's fallen for a female T-Rex he met in the past. His friends are sad to leave him behind, but go to the present anyway.

Back in the present, the dinos think nothing has really changed, but they find that the exhibit in the visitor's center, previously a single roaring T-Rex skeleton, has been replaced with two T-Rex's, famous for being found fossilized together called "The Deadly Lovers", and its their friend and the mate he found in the past. It ends on the bittersweet note.

[the-kr8tor]

Hiii! I just wanted to request a Baby's breath and ⭐/❣️ for Simon Ghost Riley for the apothecary. Ghost and the reader could be going on a family trip with their baby to the zoo or aquarium. I'd like to kind of see him stuggle with his past, and wonder why his father couldn't enjoy his time with his kids like he does. I'd also like to see him go to the reader for comfort too.

A Simon req!! Thank you so much for requesting! Hope you like it ❤️❤️❤️

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x fem! reader

Word count: 1.3 k

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, dad! Simon, mom! Reader, fluff, hurt/comfort, cw abuse mention, cw panic attack.

Katy's one year celebration 🎉

Perks of wearing a mask at work means that no one recognises you once you're out of it. Another pro, is that no one will bother you at the yearly family day that Price shamelessly told his lieutenant that it's mandatory for the entire 141 to join. Even though Simon knows it technically isn't, he still decided to bring you and his little ones to the zoo just because, A. The entrance is free, and B. He gets to spend time with you, little Tommy and baby Ellie, which is rare these days. A win/win for Simon, as long as nobody recognises him and decides to chat him up while his kids are clinging onto him like peanut butter on bread.

The entire zoo's speakers are blaring with random animal noises that irks Simon. Cows mooing, monkeys screeching, dolphin noises and snakes hissing; he has no idea why a zoo would even play animal noises when the animals themselves are particularly screaming in his ears. The sun is blasting on him, making the back of his neck sweat, and his kids irritable. Baby Ellie gurgles on her stroller, shielded by the folding canopy (and her towering dad) with a portable fan clipped on the handle. She's comfortable and happy enough just staring at the colourful parrots flying around. While Tommy is clutched behind his leg, afraid of the pointed beaks, and sharp claws. He jumps when a bird suddenly flaps its wings too close to him. Even with all the sounds and his kid grappled around him, he truly enjoys their company. He smiles down at Tommy, fingers brushing along the boy's soft curls.

His mind wanders back to his childhood, that his own father never showed the same enjoyment when he's out with his family, enjoying his time more with a bottle of amber liquid in between his crooked fingers instead of spending time with them without a metal hanger in his hand.

Simon pats Tommy atop his head, cowering and hiding his face on Simon's denim. “'s alright, just a bird.”

“I know dad, but they're so scary when they fly. I want mum.” He mumbles back, Simon can feel the tears coming as his son's fingers dig into the denim of his pants.

“Mum’s comin’,” he hears sniffles, and he thinks he's not doing a good job at this. “She's gettin' your drink remember?”

Tommy looks up, big brown eyes filled with tears. “I don't like the birds, dad.”

“Okay, let's move along then. Want to look at the giraffes again?”

Tommy sniffles again, pouting but nodding a quick yes. “Carry?”

Simon sighs with a brief smile, eyes crinkling at the corners, surrendering to the whims of his five year old. “Right, arms up, Tommy.” With one swift move, his son is wrapped around his arm while his free hand pushes the stroller away from the bird enclosure. Wheels squeak, and Ellie is out of the trance signaled by her piercing shriek. “Damnit,” Simon whispers, going around the stroller, he takes his crying daughter in his other arm like a professional. “You're okay, El, what's wrong?” Ellie continues to cry, mouth wobbling, eyes that are similar to yours look at him through tears with her fists wrapped around her dad's shirt.

“Dad, the birds!” Tommy hides behind the crook of his dad's neck, crying in tandem with his sister when he realizes that they haven't gone that far from the scary birds.

“Tommy, they're just birds.” His son wails from his accidental cold words, and in turn, making Ellie sob louder. People stare at him, stopping to give him the stink eye, some even stop to stare at where the ruckus is coming from. It's like he can hear their thoughts, ‘look at that dad who can't handle his own kids.’ or ‘What is that big brute doing to his kids?’ He doesn't care what they think of him, but he doesn't want them to think that they're crying because he hurt them. He'd never do that, he'd never be like him.

All the noises, the heat, the pointed stares, and how Simon's heart pounds at every cry of his children, children that he can't even calm down without your help. It all makes his breathing stagger, muscles tightening, and his palms clammy and tingling. Symptoms that he's awfully too familiar with.

He thinks after having two children he'd be good at this, not great or even amazing, just okay, average at raising his kids so they'd grow up normally and well adjusted. Is he even built for this? Is he capable of loving without leaving teeth marks? Without turning out like his father? Or is he ruining everything?

“Lieutenant, is that you?” A sudden voice calls out, a head of dark hair and bushy beard pops out from his peripheral. Great, someone that recognises him without the mask. Just what he needs.

“No.” Simon answers gruffly above the cries while he uselessly bounce his wailing kids in his arms.

“Nah, I know that's you! I can never forget those terrifying eyes of yours.” The sergeant bounds up to him, he remembers him from the last three missions the man was a part of. Simon regrets lending him his lighter once, now that he's all friendly to him. “That your kids? They're adorable.”

“Sergeant.” No, I stole them, Simon wanted to quip back. The man clearly cannot read the room while his babies are bawling their eyes out. He suddenly wants to punch something. Or just walk away, huffing and puffing. “A bit busy here—”

“They look a lot like you! I never thought you had a face under that skull mask.” If looks could kill, Simon has committed murder in the middle of the zoo. In front of the bird enclosure for that matter. “‘The Ghost’ being a dad,” the sergeant shakes his head in bewilderment. “Sounds weird,” he backtracks quickly, “a g-good kind of weird though.”

Simon's seething, his blood rushing in his ears as everything overwhelms him. From how Tommy's overalls scratches on his side, from how the sweat flows down on his back, snaking along his spine. And the noise, people chatting endlessly, birds squawking, the fucking speakers blaring— he swallows thickly, jaw tightening, eyes darting along the crowd, alert, and pupils blown out. Then, a hand reaches out to his bicep, warm, soft and comfortably familiar over his searing skin. His heartbeat slows down at the mere sight of you.

“Hi,” you smile, eyes roaming around his ‘deer in the headlights’ look. Squeezing once, twice and thrice for good measure, you quickly place the plastic bag full of cold drinks on the stroller. Without missing a beat, you take Tommy in your arms, easing his cries almost immediately. “You must be sergeant Willems, it's nice to meet you but can we take a raincheck on the pleasantries? A bit busy here.” Smiling sweetly, Simon's subordinate nods, giving you and Simon a curt nod and then scampering away.

Simon gazes upon you with softness in his brown eyes, saccharine affection as he slides next to you closer. Hip to hip, he tries hard not to melt into you. Even if you glance at him with the same tenderness.

“Mummy,” Ellie murmurs, tear stained cheeks greeting you. You pat her back as she lays her head down on her father's chest. Lips still frowning, and nose scrunched, she looks like Simon during Tommy's birth. Her cries subsides, a tiny fist wrapped around your finger.

“I'm here, baby.” You coo, fixing your hold on Tommy while you flick your eyes towards Simon, meeting with his own. “I'm right here, Si.” You seem to always know what's going on inside his head, knuckles brushing along his cheek, you wipe away a bead of sweat. He wants to lean into your touch, if not for the numerous eyes roaming around.

He inhales shakily, a restart button for his breathing. Muscles relaxing, forehead pressed on your own briefly and palm spread across the small of your back, he lets his ugly emotions fly away with the wind as you chastely peck his jaw.

“You're good, Simon.”

[phoenixeclipse-lmkau]

Cursed Warlords AU Masterpost

This Masterpost is out of date! Go to the new one to continue reading ⬇️

New Cursed Warlords Masterpost

Shadowpeach x Female Reader AU

Sun Wukong and The Six Eared Macaque are mated warlords who rule Flower Fruit Mountain. They plunder and destroy anyone who stands in their way, and they don't care about the consequences. Until one day when suddenly, they lose their powers and get stuck in the form of cubs!

Having to find a way home to break the curse, they run into a monkey demoness who is trailing behind a mortal. Unfortunately, the demoness in question is a lone monkey demoness who doesn't know how to speak monkey. So they are stuck with the woman and the demoness as this strange woman travels.

This woman, who is clearly mortal held no fear towards them. Obviously, because they were mere cubs.

Cursed Warlords Art / Character Designs

Sun Wukong and The Six Eared Macaque - Sketches

Cursed Warlords Asks

#One - Several

#Two - Reader's knowledge on Lmk

#Three - Language

#Four - Language

#Five - Magic Understanding

#Six - Crushes

#Seven - Reader's Abilities and Hobbies

#Eight - How Reader saved Spirit

#Nine - Bathing + extra scene

#Ten - If someone flirts with Reader

#Eleven - Reader's world

#Twelve- Shadowpeach Arc Notes

#Thirteen - Concerns on Artifacts

#Fourteen - More on the Artifacts Debate and ideas

#Fifteen - Spirit's backstory

#Sixteen - Overheard Crushes!!

#Seventeen - 🔞 NSFW Headcannons

#Eighteen - Singing

#Nineteen - Macaque’s Ears

#Twenty - Are the cubs!?

#Twenty-one - Jttw Arcs Idea

#Twenty-Two - Mk

#Twenty-Three - Before and After the artifacts

#Twenty-Four - Reader's Name in the Book of The Dead

#Twenty-Five - Su, Chu Lin and Spirit's dad.

#Twenty-Six - Reader gets mad

#Twenty-Seven - Immortality

#Twenty-Eight - Lmk World bits and pieces

#Twenty-Nine - Time loops

#Thirty - Post courtnapped grooming

#Thirty-One - Monkey's Heights

#Thirty-Two - Big Spoon Cuddles

#Thirty-Three - Annoying Sister In Law

#Thirty-Four - Crumb Block (Didn't know what to call it)

#Thirty-Five - Wukong and Macaque Zoo

Cursed Arc

Meeting The Mortal

Peaches and Plums

Passing Out - End Credits of Chapter

Boat Ride

The Village

The Forest

Burns

Unofficial Chapters

Anger

Reader and Mk Talk

[ereardon]

Before I Knew [Jake Seresin x Reader] Chapter Two

A Jake Seresin unexpected pregnancy fic

Overview: On your first night after moving to San Diego to spend more time with your brother Bob, you unknowingly have a one night stand with his teammate Jake Seresin. For the first time in his whole life, Bob has a closely knit friend group and you’re desperate not to rock the boat. But an unexpected and unplanned pregnancy upends your world, forcing you and Jake closer together, against Bob’s wishes. What will happen when you find yourself actually falling for the father of your unborn child? 

Pairing: Jake Seresin x Reader; Bob Floyd x Sister!Reader 

Warnings: Pregnancy, cursing, eventual smut, alcohol

Chapter summary: Y/N tries to get her life together but finding a job proves to be difficult. So difficult that when Jake catches her in a weak spot at the Hard Deck the two reconnect behind closed doors; Y/N gets a massive surprise that threatens to change everything

Masterlist here; previous chapter here

You were late. 

Which was abnormal, because the only thing that was timely about you was the fact that you got your period on the same day every single month. It was the one thing you could count on in a world that was constantly in flux. 

This time, you were late. Three weeks late, to be exact. 

One Week Before

You weren’t sure what you had expected when you booked your flight to San Diego. The last time you and Bob had lived together you were just kids. Back then it had been fighting over the remote and who ate the last frozen waffle. 

Bob had always been quiet. Collected. He blended in with the background of things. Whereas you had preferred to be the center of attention, Bob was the wallflower. He carried your plastic pumpkin behind you while trick-or-treating and he was the one to help make scrapbooks for your high school graduation, taking a special weekend leave from the academy just for that. 

So it was surprising that almost every moment of Bob’s time was filled. If he wasn’t at North Island training, he was on a smaller mission, gone for a day or two at a time. Whenever he wasn’t flying, he was hanging out with the rest of the daggers. You often woke up and wandered out into the living room to find Bradley sitting at the table eating a bowl of cereal, wearing the same clothes as the night before, smiling sheepishly about how he had crashed on the couch. 

“I’m sorry,” Bob said, his voice echoing on the phone as you filled a mug with coffee in the kitchen. “I won’t be home until late.” 

“You know when I moved here I thought we’d get to spend some time together,” you said. “Instead, I hear from you even less than when I was back home with mom.” 

“I’m sorry about that.” You could hear the jet engines roaring in the background. “This weekend. I promise, we can do something fun. The zoo?” 

You laughed. “I’m not five anymore, Bobby. You don’t have to plan a fun playdate for me. I just want to spend some quality time together.” 

“We will, I promise.” There was a pause. “Ducky, I gotta run, OK. I’ll see you when I get home.” The line went dead. You sighed, picking up your cup of coffee and walking into the living room. You needed to get a job. Pulling up your computer, you flicked over to the LinkedIn tab that was open. Back in Chattanooga, you had spent the year after college aimless. Bartending at night. Taking some classes and studying for the GMAT as you toyed with the idea of business school. But you weren’t really sure what you wanted to do. 

You still weren’t sure. That was the part that you had kept from Bob. He was the kind of person who needed a plan. An itinerary. He looked at menus before he even stepped foot in a restaurant. He refused to go somewhere if he didn’t know what the parking situation was. He was by the book. You were anything but. 

It was time you grew up a little. 

***

By the time Bob got home, the sound of the front door crashing open, you were in bed. Opening one eye, and then another, you waited for the soft footsteps of Bob entering the house. Instead, you heard a gaggle of voices, loud shushes and uncontrolled whispers. 

Cracking open the door, you peered down the hallway to where the light was on in the living room. “Bobby?” you called out, stepping onto the carpeted hallway. 

“Duck?” It was a slurred whisper. You frowned, rounding the corner into the living room to see Jake supporting Bob as he lowered him down onto the couch. 

You rushed over, eyes wide, not even realizing that the hem of your long shirt rode up as you kneeled down in front of the couch where Bob was laid horizontal, one arm hanging off and dragging on the cream carpet. You looked up at Jake accusatorial. “You got him drunk?” 

“It was Phoenix,” Jake said, hands in the air. “I swear. I’m just the DD.” 

You shook your head. “I’m getting him some water.” Bob started to sit up and you put one hand on his shoulder, shoving him down against the cushion. “Lie down.” 

“Bossy,” he groaned, fluttering his eyes closed. 

In the kitchen, you ran the tap, seething. Of course Jake had gotten Bob drunk. You barely knew him, but this just proved that you knew enough. His cockiness at the bar that first night had been charming. But you knew from your experience with men that cockiness never aged well. 

Jake entered the kitchen, one hand pressed against the doorframe. “Y/N.” 

You shook your head, pouring a glass of water. “You can leave.” 

“What if I came here to see you?” 

“Why the hell would you do that?” 

Jake inched closer. “Maybe I thought what we had the other night was pretty great.” 

“Weren’t you listening?” you asked, setting the cup down on the counter. “That’s never happening again. In fact, we promised to pretend it never happened. So in my mind, we met for the first time that day at the coffee shop when Bob invited me to meet his friends. That’s the story, Jake. Nothing else.” 

“You really think it’ll never happen again?” 

Jake was close, the warmth of his body practically heating you through your skin. You had to push away the memory of how his hands felt along your waist, in your hair, his lips on your throat. He was just a guy. There were plenty of other men you could sleep with or date who weren’t part of your brother’s friend group. You owed it to Bob not to get in the way any more than you already had. 

Even if Jake was standing in the kitchen looking at you like he wanted to consume you. Even if you felt your legs trembling at the thought of his tongue roaming over your core like it had that night. 

You straightened up and looked directly into Jake’s eyes, willing yourself to be difficult. Hard. “I don’t think so,” you whispered. “I know. Now if you don’t mind. I want to get this to Bobby before he pukes on the carpet like a cat.” 

You pushed past Jake, heart beating rapidly. A minute later, as you knelt down next to the couch, you heard the gentle clang of the door shutting closed, followed by a car engine roaring to life outside. 

Bob was asleep on the couch, glasses askew. You removed them, setting them on the nearby table along with the glass of water. Without thinking, you made your way to the window, peering out from behind the curtains. 

Jake was sitting in his truck in the driveway, lights on, but not moving. You pulled the drapes closed, shutting him out. 

***

You pressed your forehead against the steering wheel of Bob’s truck and groaned. This was your third interview that you had bombed in as many days. The first had been for a store manager of a women’s boutique on First Ave. The second had been for a barista job and the third for a bartending position on North Island. Bob had been pissed about that third one, but you needed money. 

“You have a degree,” Bob argued as you folded a pile of laundry on the floor of the living room. “From a good university. Put it to use, Y/N.” 

“Don’t you think I’m trying?” you asked, exasperated. “Nobody wants a fucking history major. It’s not like I’m going to go work for a Big Four or some land developer. These are the kinds of jobs that will hire me.” 

“You’re better than all of those,” Bob huffed, standing up and shaking his head. “I’ll find you something.” 

“You’re not responsible for me, Bobby,” you argued. “I can take care of myself.” 

“Can you?” 

His words clung in the air. Heavy, like fat raindrops. Those two words sucked all of the oxygen out of the room, out of your lungs. Just a black hole and you were falling. That’s all you seemed to do lately. Fall. Fail. Flail. 

And Bob knew it. 

***

“So you’re from Tennessee?” The guy you were talking to stepped in closer, one hand on the wooden bar behind you, practically boxing you in. But he was cute and when he smiled you felt like he was talking to only you. 

You nodded. “Moved here last month.” 

“So what do you do?” 

You hesitated. There was movement on your periphery and then Bob appeared on your right, face hard behind his wire frames. He took one look at Keith, the guy who had bought your last drink, and his lips practically disappeared into his face as they squeezed into such a tight line. “Fuck off,” Bob growled. Keith looked up, terrified. He spotted Bob’s uniform immediately. 

“Lieutenant Floyd,” Keith said, straightening. 

Bob stepped in closer. He wasn’t as tall as Bradley, or as built as Jake, but he carried a quiet presence that filled a room. It had run off more than one high school boyfriend. Keith looked like the next victim. “Leave,” Bob said and Keith grabbed his beer, scurrying away with nothing more than a grimace. 

You turned your gaze, hot, on Bob. “Seriously?” 

“A fucking ensign?” Bob asked. “No way. I didn’t bring you here so you could let some random Navy guy in your pants.” 

“You didn’t even want to bring me here!” you argued. Bob turned ashen. “I’m only here because you feel bad for me. Poor little Y/N. Has no life, no job, no aspirations. I’m your pathetic little sister. That’s all I’ll ever be to you, isn’t it?” 

“Ducky,” he said, face growing softer. “That’s not true.”

“What if it is?” you whispered, pushing yourself up and off of the bar. 

“Duck.” Bob’s hand shot out and you flung him off, eyes wide. 

Weaving around the bodies that crowded the bar, you skirted the edge of the room, headed for the bathroom. Inside, you put both hands on the sink, letting your head hang low. Just as the tears started to flow, the door opened and you spun around in shock. “Oh!” 

Jake stood in the doorway to the single bathroom. “Shit, sorry, the door wasn’t locked.” 

“It’s fine.” You turned back around, expecting him to leave. 

Instead, you heard the door shut softly, footsteps as Jake stepped near. “Are you OK?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” 

“Because you’re crying in a dirty bar bathroom.” 

You wheeled around. Before you could think, you flung your arms around Jake’s neck, pulling him in close, smashing your lips against his, tasting the beer on his tongue as he walked you back until your hips hit the sink basin, his fingertips tight along your sides. You gasped into his mouth, feeling his lips close around yours, the heat of his hips drilling you back against the counter, his massive muscular arms winding around you, holding you close, the pine scent of his cologne filling your nose as one of his hands threaded into the hair at the back of your head. 

Finally, you pulled back, lips puffy and wet, Jake’s green eyes wide, his mouth pink from kissing. His eyes roamed over your face before he stepped back, his hands falling from your waist. 

“Shit,” you whispered. “I shouldn’t have done that.” 

“No, you definitely should have done that.” Jake grinned. 

“I have to go,” you murmured, grabbing your purse, trying to skirt around him. 

Jake’s hand reached out, stopping you. “Hey,” he whispered. “It’s OK.” 

You turned to look at him, eyes filling back with tears. “Nothing is OK,” you replied quietly, one hand on the door, yanking it open. “In case you didn’t realize, Jake, I’m a mess.” 

You scrambled out the door and back into the boisterous bar before Jake could say anything else. 

***

“Ducky?” Bob’s voice on the other side of the bathroom door was soft. He must have been in the kitchen or living room. “I’m leaving!” 

“OK!” you called back, voice too sharp. 

There was a pause. And then, “I’ll see you later?” 

“Yeah!” 

The sound of the front door closing rang out and you sank to the ground, cold tile pressed against your bare feet and the backs of your legs. You could feel your heartbeat thundering in your chest. 

You looked down at the pregnancy test grasped between your clammy fingers. 

And the pink plus sign staring back at you. 

Please follow my library page @ereardonlibrary as that will largely serve as my tag list. Anyone I previous promised to tag is here:

@bobfloydsbabe @blue-aconite @wkndwlff @mamachasesmayhem @mandylove1000 @djs8891 @clancycucumber230 @rosiahills22 @buckysteveloki-me  @kmc1989 @gigisimsonmars @eloquentdreamer @mjisbby @shanimallina87 @seresinslady @seresinhangmanjake @blackwidownat2814 @yanna-banana @bbyvanessaa  @mrsjobarnes @midnightmagpiemama @ingoaliesitrust @rockbottomphilosophies-blog @iangiemae @joaquinwhorres @boiolay @sometimesanalice @spinning-away

[gregorygerwitz]

AITA for maiming my best friend?

I (32M) have known my best friend, E (32M), for about 6 years. We met through work when he started at my firehouse, and we kind of clicked by the end of our first shift. These are long stories, but I help him out with his son, C (13M), a lot, I take C to the zoo regularly, and we (C and I) got caught in the tsunami a few years ago when we went to the pier for the day. E has me in his will to take custody of C if anything happens to him. When I say he's my best friend, I mean he's like family, and we've been family for a while.

Last month, our team kind of borrowed an LAFD helicopter to save our captain and his wife when their cruise ship was capsized (yeah! that cruise ship!), so my future brother-in-law called an old buddy of his, T (45M), who's a helicopter pilot to fly us into a hurricane. T is super cool! He's a pilot, and he used to be at my firehouse before I got there, and he used to be in the army (like E!), and he likes karaoke and trivia and basketball and Star Wars.

E and T got really close after we did the helicopter rescue. T flew E to Vegas for a fight that he got ring-side tickets for (which meant T couldn't go out to get a beer with me, even though I think he wanted to). They went to a karaoke trivia night together. And when E was telling me about it, I kind of thought he was going to invite me, too, but he just asked me to babysit C for him that night instead. I love C, he's a great kid, but I was kind of sad I didn't get to spend time with my best friend.

When I was babysitting C, I saw E's day planner on the fridge. Underneath a take-out menu, there was something written in for this Thursday - "B.B.P.U. w/ T" - basketball pick up game with T (my sister made me explain it to her) - and it was CIRCLED - but it's this game that first responders have every other Thursday. E has asked me to go a few times, but I don't like basketball so I always say no.

Anyway, C kept talking about T all night while we ate dinner and played videogames. And T apparently lied to C about his favorite Star Wars movie to make C like him more??? Which should be illegal.

So I asked my BIL to go to the basketball game with me, and he kept asking why I suddenly like basketball (I don't like it, it's a stupid sport), all the way to the court. E teased me, too, but that's just what E does. But we played basketball against E and T and the rest of their team, and I wasn't doing too bad. And then E and T high fived a lot and were acting like they're best friends, even though E is my best friend, not T's, and I got frustrated.

I accidentally (?) knocked E over when he was going for a basket. My BIL said E sprained his ankle and was lucky I didn't break his leg when I knocked him down.

My sister says I was acting like a 14 year old girl, and I know she's kind of right. But it wasn't on purpose, I don't think.

AITA?

UPDATE: apparently I like guys???

UPDATE 2: a lot of the comments think I'm in love with E. no, he's just my best friend! T kissed me. we have a date on Saturday.

[greynatomy]

what did you call me?

katrina gorry x reader

wasn’t planning of making a second part, but people have been asking and gave me some ideas for it.

part 1 part 3

———

After everyone got showered and dressed, they all got back on the coach to the hotel they were staying in, minus you and Harper, taking the rental you rented.

You, Kat, Harper, Charli, and Kyra all went to your wife’s room, the rest of the team did their own thing. You got yourself comfortable on the lounge chair in the corner of the room while the others laid on the beds.

“Okay. First question. How did you guys meet?” Kyra was the first to speak.

“I went to Australia back in 2021 and almost knocked her down. She’s so tiny that I didn’t even see her.”

“Shut up. But she invited me to go with her to breakfast as an apology.”

“Ohmygod! It’s like a literal book meeting. Write a story on wattpad type of meeting. That’s so cute!”

“What’s a wattpad?”

“Okay! Second question. Charli your turn.”

“Who asked who in marriage?”

“Uh, she did.” Kat pointed to you. “It wasn’t extravagant or anything. It was a couple months after Harper was born and she made her wear a little onesie that said ‘Will you marry Mama’ on it. It was so cute.”

The questions kept being asked and Katrina answers them all. Meanwhile, you were falling asleep on the chair, the jet lag catching up to you.

Harper, getting tired herself, carefully slides herself down off the bed and waddling over to your sleeping form. Somehow finding a way to climb onto you on her own, She grabs the hem of your shirt and climbs inside, settling herself on your torso, instantly falling asleep, all while the three Matildas are still having their q&a session.

Charli was the first to notice Harper gone from the bed.

“Oh my. That is so adorable.”

Kyra and Katrina look towards the direction where Charli’s finger points, seeing you asleep with a lump under your shirt.

“I’ve got to take a picture.” Kyra pulls out her phone and snaps a photo.

“Harper loves to take naps like that. Y/N has done skin to skin with her ever since she was born and Harper loves it.”

“They’re quite the duo aren’t they?”

“Yeah. And It’s crazy how we met the day I found out I was pregnant with Harper too.”

“That’s so cute. They both came to you on the same day, and now they’re inseparable.”

In the following days, you stayed in Australia getting to know the team a lot more, getting especially close to Charli and Kyra. The team has a day off today and you really wanted to visit the Australia Zoo and invited Kyra and Charli along.

You’ve just made it to where the cheetahs are, Harper presses herself close to the glass. Kyra and Charli went off to get something to snack on and drink with Kat leaving me with Harper. Minutes later, the three come back with more than enough food and drinks giving your daughter some.

“Here you go, Mama.” Kyra is holding out a bottle of water to you, but you’re frozen. Not knowing what’s happening, she shakes the bottle in front of your face.

“What did you call me?”

“Oh. Uh.” Finally realizing what she said, Kyra stutters a bit. “It’s just you’re Harper’s mom, Harper’s my sister, and you’ve treated me like I was you kid too, like how Mini does and you’ve actually felt like another Mom to me.”

“Me too!” Charli cuts in.

“Aw, babe. Are you crying?”

“No, I have allergies.” You turn away, wiping you eyes.

“Family group hug!”

Your family of three just turned into a family of five and you wouldn’t have had it any other way.

[ameagrice]

Capsize

percy jackson x fem reader

chapter thirty-four | logical

They moved back to New York shortly before the summer breakup. In a letter redirected to Percy’s apartment for you, your stepmom wrote that things were getting better. Your dad sold up abroad and moved back to be closer to you, apparently, so you could visit more often. The thought of it made you uncomfortable. Moving back to be near you wasn’t the worst thing, though—Rachel having another baby, was.

“The poor kid,” you stared, horrified at the letter.

Through a mouthful of Froot Loops, Percy raised his brows. “Huh?”

“I’m getting another sister,” you tilted your head, a flurry of emotions whirling. You’d love her like you loved Finn, but the thought of her going through the motions the way you did was not particularly pleasant. Would she be stuck inside, too? Would she be barred from leaving? Would she be judged on what she wore, or said or laughed at? Would she be in danger, too? Girls are always judged terribly. You wouldn’t worry like this over Finn.

“You don’t look…happy about that,” he chewed.

You hum softly. “I am happy. Just…I don’t know.”

Percy knew quite a bit about your unpleasant home life. He knew you had ran away last year to escape it, and he knew about the wilderness camp fiasco that felt so long ago. He knew you’d attended Yancy simply because your family didn’t know what to do with you, and it hurt. They were most certainly not equipped with the knowledge or the readiness to be parents to one, let alone three.

“They didn’t know what to do with just me,” you scoff, throwing down the letter in a stray spill of milk. “Why are they…?” Of course that always was the question—why? Why to everything they said and did. It made your brain hurt.

Cooking over by the stove, Paul Blofis flipped pancakes. You shared a table of them, Froot Loops and toppings, a feast fit for a king—and enough of it, too. Paul even let you and Percy flip your pancakes. You’d never been allowed to, before. Not because you were incapable—there was no reason at all. Your father just didn’t want you to, so you never did. But Paul? Patience. Of. A. Saint. Between the giant mess that was mixing the pancake mix with Percy, and actually scooping the mix from the bowl to the pan, burning your pancakes and flipping fresh ones, he was only smiles and encouraging (often strained) words. Percy found it all hilarious, of course, throwing the mix around and getting it on the ceiling. And once Percy did it you had to do it too, because what was being silly if not with your best friend? Sally had rushed to the store on the corner for more supplies and would be back soon with the promise of breakfast and then a visit to Central Park Zoo.

When another letter was redirected to Percy’s apartment, you discovered that your family had at last moved back. With the address scratched with a near-empty pen on a piece of scrap paper, Sally took you over while the boys sorted dinner. You didn’t want to go in, you explained. Only to check the place out. The address took you to a five-storey in a nice neighbourhood in the Upper East Side.

“You don’t have to go in if you don’t want to,” said Sally.

You stared, and tried to imagine your family inside. “It’s kind of a wasted trip, then.”

With the car parked up to the curb, you watched the street for a few seconds, Sally allowing you to collect your thoughts. “They’re having another kid,” you blurt. “They sent me away, but they’re having another kid. Is there something wrong with me?”

Sally reached out to you and took your hand in a surprising gesture. She did it to Percy all the time, laying her hand on his shoulder, or grabbing his hand when he struggled with something. You turn your head, to find her already looking at you. Your throat burned.

“No,” she shook her head. Percy had her nose, and her honesty. “Don’t ever think that. You’re one of the smartest, kindest kids I’ve ever met, and if they don’t see that, that is not your fault. Okay?”

Of course it wasn’t okay. You were more of a maid than a daughter, just something pretty to brag about in conversation and meetings. So how could you be okay with their new children potentially being brought up the same way, with a man who believed women were made for everything housework and then some, and that children were seen and not heard, made to abide by every rule the ‘man of the house’ sets?

“Can we go back to your house?” You asked.

She didn’t hesitate in turning around. Perhaps one day, you would tell her all about your thoughts in this moment, and of how despite them, you’d go right back again and again to be upset and humiliated. Human nature, and the want to feel loved. That’s all it ever was. And as a fifteen-year-old, setting boundaries didn’t come as second-nature.

The evening was spent playing Mario Kart, throwing Paul off-course with turtle shells and bananas. Percy beat you Every. Damn. Time. (but he let you win once, and that was enough). The evening ended on cheesy pizza and ice-cream, the radio blasting some recently released song, and Percy cracking jokes from the other room in the dark.

So…the tunnel was a dead end. Of course. You couldn’t have anything lucky. Gasping for breath after sprinting the whole way down, you leaned against the wall trying to catch some oxygen.

Percy keeled over with his hands on his knees. “Holy sh—”

“We’re dead!” Cried Grover. His hands flew to his hair hysterically. “We’re—oh, there’s another tunnel!”

Which, essentially, happened to be half your height and forced you to face the realistic possibility that you might have a fear of enclosed spaces. Crawling through on your stomach, monsters echoing, coming closer down the tunnel was not on the agenda. Something one-hundred-percent not human was too close for comfort, and just when you thought you were dead, the tunnel beneath you gave way, and you slid down a bright-red, plastic slide with a sudden scream, swirling around and around until you came to a stop, slamming into metal bars in a dark room. Percy came to a stop, slamming you once more against the wall with a yelp, and then Grover, screaming his way down the slide, and also colliding with the two of you.

“At least we’ve lost it,” huffed Percy, getting to his feet. He offered a hand down to you, and you took it. “There’s no way it can fit through…well, it’s closed up anyway. Fantastic.”

You offered a hand to Grover, pulling him up to his feet. He shakily exhaled. “But we’ve trapped ourselves, now. Look.”

You turned. The room was huge, a giant square space in which you were trapped, encased by metal bars from floor to ceiling. You approached the silver wall and tested the bars. They were cold to the touch, but moveable. Like jello, when you pressed your hand to it they wobbled but didn’t move apart. Taking the end of your dagger, you poked a bar tentatively. You created a dent in the middle of it that quickly closed up again.

“What the hell?…”

Through the bars were rows of what could only be described as cells, each with metal bars of different thickness and material. At least three stories of cells, except the two above yours were ordinary-looking and simple enough, joined by metal catwalks.

You hadn’t noticed Percy come to your side until he spoke. “It’s a prison,” he pushed on the bars. Though they wobbled, they bent ever so slightly. “Maybe we could…” he reached out for your dagger and tried sawing at them, creating little gashes that left dust floating to the ground. With enough friction, the bars would most definitely cut apart.

Grover approach the bars and tested them. “Someone take that side. If we pull on either side, someone can slip between the bars and get out.”

It might have been the most productive idea anyone’s had in a while. You take a hold of a bar just as Grover said and pull so hard that your arms are shaking. Percy shrugs off his backpack and throws it through the wider gap you’ve created before sliding through, breathing in dramatically with wide eyes. On the other side, he jumped around cheering. You might have smiled and joined him, if the chanting hadn’t started. A deep, low sobbing jolted Percy to shut up quickly, dropping his arms. High above in the building, a raspy voice came, words you didn’t understand.

“What’s that supposed to be?” You whispered to Grover anxiously.

He’d turned shaky, and nodded for Percy to take your bar. “Let’s keep moving. Like, now, Percy. I don’t like the sound of that.”

“But what is it?” The boy asked, pulling for you to slip between the bendy bars.

Grover didn’t reply. You held the bar for him and when he was through you carried on through the building. The ancient-sounding language had stopped, but the crying continued. The lights flickered, and you could hear the electricity running through them, clicking.

“I think it’s a prison,” you said, eyeing the cells. “A huge one. Ha! Imagine we’re in Alcatraz.”

“Be just our luck,” rolled Percy’s eyes.

It didn’t seem possible in the slightest that you could have exited the maze on the other side of the country far from camp, but realistically anything was possible these days. You’d nearly reached halfway through the room when Grover threw out his arm and hissed. “Stop!” You paused. “Can you see that?” He nodded above, eyes trained high.

You look where he did, and focussed on the shape of the second-floor balcony. Standing, if that was the right word, was a monster you’d only seen in books and history class at camp. At least twenty-feet long with the lower-half the body of a dragon and from the waist upward a woman, with constantly changing shapes and animals at her waist. Her hair reminded you of Medusa’s so long ago, snakes snapping and hissing.

“Get down,” Grover prompted, pulling on your arm. You hadn’t even noticed the boys had crouched in the shadows. The monster paid you no attention, and though the language was foreign to you, it was easy to understand that it spoke directly to whoever was in the cell. Everyone held their breath when the footsteps sounded on the stairs, descending. She spread wings you’d failed to see, and in a gust of hot, sulphuric-smelling air, disappeared.

Grover exhaled beside you. A glance at him provided you the sight of him sweating lightly, weary. “H-horrible. I haven’t smelt a monster that strong since forever.”

“Definitely an old one,” you agreed, leaning forward ever so slightly to peer up the floors, hands pressed to the cold ground for balance.

“What was that?” Asked Percy, shoes scuffing as he shifted.

“Kampê,” shook Grover. “When the Titans ruled the world, they imprisoned Gaea and Ouranos’s earlier children. Cyclopes, and Hekatonkheires.”

Percy spluttered. “The Heka-what?”

“The Hundred-Handed Ones,” you shivered. You felt a little ashamed of the disgust you acknowledge at parts of your own world, the unpretty parts. If the gods could hand down traits to their children, you were sure that liking and paying attention to only the nice things was one you had unfortunately inherited. Vanity, and ignorance. “They called them that because they had, like, a hundred hands. They’re the elder brothers of the Cyclopes. Grim, right?”

“Kampê worked for Kronos,” Grover continued. “She kept the Hundred-Handed Ones in Tartarus, tortured them and kept them imprisoned for years. Until Zeus came, I mean. He killed Kampê and freed them all. In return, they fought in the war, against Kronos.”

“And now she’s back.”

Grover nodded. “And now she’s back. So who’s in that cell?”

“Maybe it’s someone she’s captured before? I mean, why else would she be back and making someone cry?”

There was only one solution: checking it out.

With your dagger drawn, Grover on high alert and ready to indicate monsters, and Percy with his sword, together you crept up the metal steps, backs to the wall, scaling. As you grew nearer to the cell, the crying grew louder. You couldn’t help holding back when you saw the creature inside, because you weren’t completely sure on how you would react. It sat against a wall, the colour of milk and pale as anything, with long limbs. His chest sprouted more arms than you could count. His face was long and sad, and the eyes were dark brown with no whites to be seen. All in all, you felt a little sick. No wonder Aphrodite paid special attention to you; you only liked the pretty things in life. Despite the aversion to him, you couldn’t help feeling sorry for him. Somebody so sad didn’t deserve your hate.

“Either the sky isn’t so tall anymore,” uttered Percy, “or he’s short for a Hundred-Handed One.” Said creature looked up when he spoke. You jumped violently.

Grover’s voice shook when he approached the bars. “Hundred-Handed One, please help us.”

The creature wiped his face with numerous hands, and you had to turn around for a second and collect yourself. “Run while you can, Satyr, for I cannot even help myself.”

“But, sure you can! You’re a Hundred-Handed One. You can do anything!”

The false positivity did na-da. The creature’s hands twisted bits of metal and wood, building a toy boat, and pretend characters with swords and bows and arrows. As quickly as they appeared, they dismantled.

“I cannot!” He denied, weeping sadly. “Kampê has returned. The Titans will rise and throw us into Tartarus once more.” You couldn’t argue there. The way things were going, chances weren’t looking good.

“Come on! Put on a brave face and let’s do this!” Oh, Grover, ever the positive. You couldn’t say the same for Percy and yourself—you looked at him, to find him jabbing his thumb down the stairs.

The creature’s face morphed. He now had a pointed noise, arched brows and a strange smile, but it quickly faltered and melted away, returning to the sad one. “No good,” he sighed depressingly. “My scared face keeps coming back.”

“How did you do that?” Percy gasped.

You coughed. “The Hundred-Handed Ones have fifty different faces, Percy!” You smiled to say please shut up.

He shrugged. “Must make it hard to get a yearbook picture.” You struggled to not laugh.

“Guys,” Grover interrupted. “We have to get out of here. Kampê will be back and sooner or later she’s going to sense us in here.”

“Break the bars,” you nod to the creature. His hands start playing rock-paper-scissors, making no move to escape.

“Listen, what’s your name?” Said Grover.

The creature mumbled sadly, deflating visibly against the wall, slumping. “I am Briares.”

Percy leaned down to whisper in your ear. “Why is he not breaking out?”

You turn your head ever so slightly. “He’s just scared, I think. Imagine being imprisoned and tortured not once but twice?”

“I cannot,” Briares moaned. “Kampê will only punish me.”

“It’s alright!” Said Grover. “You’ve fought the Titans before, you can do it again!”

“I remember the war,” Briares’s face morphed into one of reminiscing. “Lightening shook the world. We tried hard. The Titans and the monsters almost won, and now they are close to doing so again. Kampê said so herself.”

You wave your dagger around flimsily as you talk. “What, and you just believe everything Kampê says, now? Come on, man! Get up. You can’t change anything if you don’t try.”

“That’s the spirit!” Cheered Percy. “Come on, Briares! You’ve got this!”

He didn’t move an inch.

“How about a game of rock-paper-scissors?” Voiced Percy lightly. You gave him an ‘are you crazy?’ look.

Briares’s face turned hopeful. “I always win rock-paper-scissors.”

Percy clapped his hands. The sound reverberated. “If I win, you come with us. If you win, you stay and rot in this cell. How about that?”

He agreed. There came a series of hands on palms, three times, and thanks to Briares’s hundred hands, it was like thunder rumbling. On three, he came up with an assortment of rocks, papers and scissors, enough for a school set. He shook his head sadly again. “I told you, I always—what is that?”

“A gun. Gun always wins.”

“That’s not fair!” Briares protested.

“I never said anything about fair,” smirked Percy. Kampê won’t be fair if we hang around. Now, get up, and let’s get out of here!”

Briares sniffled, but climbed to his feet. In one swift move, he reached out with his hands and ripped the bars right out. “Demigods are cheaters.”

You felt relief at finally moving again. That is, until you took the steps frantically, only to walk straight into Kampê, waiting at the bottom. She snarled at you, waiting. You backed up right into Grover, knocking him over.

“The other way,” said Percy.

Briares was more than happy to do this. In fact, he ran ahead, arms waving frantically at the sight of Kampê. You took the lead next, lungs burning, Grover and Percy right behind. The sound of giant wings took to the air above, and though she spoke in her ancient language, you didn’t have to understand it to understand her intentions. Through a corridor, down the stairs and out into another prison block, facing doorway after doorway. You faltered, skidding to a stop.

“Agh—that way!” You dove left, the boys close behind. Now in the prison yard, surrounded by security towers and old barbed wire, the bright sunshine blinded you. People milled idly, taking pictures of the building you emerged from. You turned, and lo and behold—“Alcatraz?!” You fumed. Over the edge, San Francisco stood proudly, in the North, dark clouds gathered over Mount Tamalpais, where Atlas held up the sky. You had a sudden, scary thought that that must be where the Titans were preparing. After all, nobody else would dare approach the area.

“Keep moving! She is behind us!”

To the far end of the yard, right up as the far wall exploded, raining dust and hard debris. Coughing as it pelted you, holding a hand out to the closest wall, you tried to wipe it from your face. People screamed all around.

Percy looked to you. Even covered in dry dust, his eyes were furiously bright, just like the green of the ocean on a clear day. “It’s your call,” he said.

“Run.” That was the end of the debate. Out the gates, emergency sirens blared. It was like something from a movie. A group of tourists stood by the Wharf, where a boat sat. Grover said you should take it.

“Too slow,” said Percy.

“We should go back into the maze.”

Across the yard, where you tripped on stray bricks, the wall to the cell block stood ripped open. Through the messed-up conundrum, you located the entrance to the maze. Briares ripped off the bars of your previous cell, but upon searching the wall for the mark of Daedalus, it came up smooth.

Grover reached high on the wall, for a tiny dent. Upon touching it, the indent changed shape and glowed. The wall opened up. Down the cell block, Kampê roared. She charged, but came up slow. As you were the last to dive into the maze, you watched as the wall closed up, and not a second too soon. Hot air cut off as the wall shut. You dug around your pockets for a flashlight, flicking it on.

The group moved through the maze, through a room purely made of waterfalls all leading into one large, slippery pit. The steps around it were covered in moss and dew; one wrong move and you’d fall and drown. When you shone the flashlight down the black pit, all you could see was murky, dark water, and not the bottom of the pit. Percy looked unsettled.

Briares slumped against a mossy wall along the steps. “This pit goes straight down into Tartarus,” he declared. “I should jump in now, and saw you demigods a lot of trouble.”

“Don’t think like that,” you sighed softly. “It’s not right. You could help with what’s coming.”

“I have nothing to offer,” he shook his head. “I have lost everything.”

“What about your brothers?” Asked Grover, offering logic. “Surely they’re still here. You could find them again.”

Briares offered only sadness and the sense of giving up. “They have faded. They are gone.”

Percy, a little irritated, clasped his hands. “What exactly do you mean they’re gone? Surely monsters are immortal like the gods.”

Grover said weakly, “Percy, even immortality has limits. Sometimes monsters are forgotten, and they lose their will to stay immortal. They grow tired.”

You only thought of Medusa, and her sisters having left her. As awful as she was, nothing could be worse than being alone and forgotten in the world. How cold it must be.

“I must go,” Briares stood.

“Kronos is going to take over the world!” Grover protested. He went to move, but looked at the waterfalls, and thought better of it. “Help us!”

“I cannot,” he hung his head. It was like watching a dying animal with nothing to help it. “I cannot, demigods. I do not have a finger gun to win this type of game.”

“Maybe that’s why you monsters fade,” Percy glared. “Because you give up on yourself. Not because mortals forget you.” Ouch.

Shame wrote all over his face. Without a word, Briares turned up the steps, where different paths had appeared. He took one at random and disappeared down the dark corridor.

You sighed, shrugging your backpack higher on your shoulders. “Come on, guys. I hate it in here. Let’s go find someplace to sit; I’m starving.”

In a marble corridor, with bronze torch holders lit and hanging from the walls, you settled against the wall. It reminded you very much of an old Greek tomb, and felt somewhat comfortable for the soul, like reattaching with a piece of yourself after so long. Chewing on a cereal bar, you said, “We’re probably close now. Hopefully. We’ll get going again in the morning.” If it was even night time, now.

“How do we know when it’s morning?”

You smiled. “When we wake up, Grover.”

He pulled a heap of straw from his bag and ate some, making the rest into a pillow. He was out like a light before you could say ‘goodnight’. Percy took a place a little away from you, further down the corridor from where you sat keeping watch. You dug out a thin book from your bag and read in the glow light from the walls, keeping your ears open and looking up every few seconds.

There’s a shuffle of Percy getting up and sliding down the wall beside you. You lay your book down on your knees.

“You should really get some sleep,” you tell him. “You’ll be exhausted, otherwise.”

“I can’t sleep. Are you doing okay?”

You eye the wall opposite. “Hm. I mean, besides being down here for a ton of time and not making any contributive progression to the quest? Sure.”

“Hey,” he reasoned softly. “You’re doing great. We’ll get to the workshop, I know we will.”

You sigh deeply, crossing your ankles out in front. “I know. I just wish it all made some sense, really. I mean, I thought that we could have a system and stick to it and get to the workshop and back as quick as possible. But everything keeps changing and none of my ideas are working out so…I mean, how have we travelled from state to state in a day or two? It doesn’t make sense. I thought I could do this. But really, Percy, I haven’t got a clue what I’m doing. I took a huge bite out of something that wasn’t meant for me, I think. I was kidding myself.”

“Look, if that was the case, the Oracle never would’ve given you the prophecy. She gave it to you because this was meant for you. Don’t doubt yourself, B, you’re doing great. And, besides, when do we ever really know what we’re doing? Like when we got led astray by the wood nymphs in Central Park—”

You bark an echoey laugh. “That was your fault!”

“And the time you got us thrown off that ride at Waterland?”

“Again, your fault!”

“See!” He laughed, knocking an outstretched leg into yours. “We’ll be okay. I promise.”

You smile, but Hera’s words suddenly do a loop in your head. “Percy…”

“Yes, B?” He tilts his head, thinking you’re going to say something funny. His face falters at your serious look.

“When Hera said you know how to get through this maze, was she telling the truth?” He opens his mouth. “Because if you know the way and you’re not telling me—”

“I don’t know what she was talking about,” he denies. “Honestly.”

You lift your brows at the front, knitting together. “You’d tell me if you did, wouldn’t you, though?”

“Of course I would. Just, maybe if…”

“Maybe what?”

“If you told me what the last line of the prophecy was, it might help.”

Being so busy in the maze had you forgetting that you’d kept that part of your prophecy a secret, not only to keep your panic at a low level, but everyone else’s, too. But maybe he’s right; you’d be admitting to something big, for you, but at the end of the day, if anything were to happen which you could prevent…

“…’Lose a love to worse than death’. That was the last line. Super cheery, huh?” You pick at a thread on your pants so you don’t have to look at him.

He sits silent for a minute. “‘Lose a love’ could be anyone, though, right? I mean…”

Your heart hammers away. You can’t look up but you know just the look he’ll have on his face. You both know which type of love the prophecy talks about. If he’s worried about Travis being the one, Travis isn’t here. And it certainly isn’t Grover.

Percy sighs quietly. “Oh…”

You chuckle. “Yeah, oh.”

“Is that why you were upset, in your cabin? That’s why you…asked for me to come, but worried about it…”

“Now do you see?” You shuffle, bringing your knees up to your chest again. You’ve just admitted that you love your best friend, and he’s oddly quiet about it. Maybe you’ve done the wrong thing. Maybe you ought to have kept your mouth closed. “I couldn’t imagine doing this without you, Percy, and clearly you’re a big part of this quest. I just don’t want anything bad to happen.”

“Nothing’s going to happen. To any of us. I promise.”

You smile unsurely. “You’re making a lot of promises, dude. That’s a bad idea.”

Running a hand through his dark, dark hair, Percy denies. “Not if I keep them. You should get some rest, anyway. You’re tired.”

You won’t say no to a bit of sleep, so you ball up a t-shirt from your bag and use it as a pillow, laying down with your back to the wall. Failing to fall asleep quick enough, you open your mouth into the darkness. “I’ve been having these dreams about Nico. I think he’s trying to raise the dead.”

He replies straight away. “Me too. I think he’s been using the tunnels for a lot longer than we have. That’s where he went in winter, when he disappeared. I think, anyway.”

You can’t imagine how scared he must be. You’re fifteen, and with your friends, but the terror down here is unlike anything else. It’s a constant, eery feel up your spine, like somebody really is walking on your grave.

You don’t think on it too heavily. You close your eyes, hand under your cheek, and sleep.

You began to grow agitated the more time went on. A quick breakfast of cereal bars and a small box of apple juice, and the three of you were back once again to rule the roost of the labyrinth. Or, you liked to think so, anyway.

Dead end after dead end, you eventually started to lose it. “Goddamn it! This doesn’t make sense!”

Grover, eating a roll of straw noisily, nodded in agreement. He watched you like he was watching a reality television meltdown episode. “My brain feels like it’s turned into water.”

You point at him with the end of your dagger unintentionally, making him yelp and scatter backward. “That. That is accurate. Now—why is it turning into wood?!” You followed the changing interior with your eyes, from stone into wooden beams and rock. “It should still be stone!”

Nonetheless, your group pressed on until the walls turned into a room full of sharp stalagmites and dark, dirt floor. Nothing stood out—besides the giant, silver foil wrapper just laying around. You leaned down to pick it up with the tips of your fingers, grimacing at the crumbs falling out.

“D’you think Nico was down here?”

Percy hummed. “Summoning the dead, still.”

“Smells like the dead down here,” Grover agreed, sniffing violently. “Definitely dead things.”

“Beautiful.” You crunched the wrapper in your hand. “Do you think we could use it to find Nico?”

“Like Hansel and Gretel?” Percy quipped, with a cheeky smile. Grover belched a laugh promptly. Boys. Irritation became you.

Despite their joking at the serious matter, you were grateful they’d managed to keep their cool, especially since you’d been slowly losing yours the longer you were down in the maze. You walked on ahead, footsteps oddly quiet with the vast nature of the space. Behind you, the boys laughed about some stupid to programme and Burger King, but their odd conversation was the least of your worries. Through the dark tunnel ahead, a single beam of light shone through from above, like the clouds in the sky would part and let light in from a distance. Something twisted in your gut, and the farther you grew from the boys’ jesting, closer to the grid of light, the stronger the feeling became. You’d guided the way on pure feeling, of what felt right and what felt terribly wrong. You couldn’t help feeling, now, that you’d made the right choice coming this way.

Standing under the pitch of light, looking up, your stomach lurched, and a full-body feeling that you’d done the right thing came over you. You could see trees, and bright-blue sky. No clouds, but a whole lot of sunshine. It felt warm. You were looking through a metal grate, and staring a red-color cow in the face.

A red cow?

You pulled a face, and pocketed your dagger in your backpack. Reaching as tall as possible on your tiptoes, you reached up for the grate, touching your fingers to the metal bars and pushing as far as you could. The cow moved along, thank goodness, because you were starting to think that the feeling in your stomach wasn’t that you were going the right way but actually because the sight of a red cow was ringing alarm bells (and mild nausea).

By the time Percy and Grover caught up to you, you’d managed to shift the grate over a little bit.

“What is it?” Percy breathed. “We thought you’d—”

“I think it’s a cattle-guard,” you cut him off. “Give me a boost, Percy. I’ve got a feeling we’re about to find Nico.”

“What’s a cattle-guard?” He asked, kneeling. Percy cupped his hands, and you placed your foot in it. As he boosted you up, you grabbed Grover’s shoulder and pushed, leaning to shove the guard out of the way. Your fingers brushed soft grass, and you almost melted.

“They put them at the gates of ranches,” explained Grover. “So the cows don’t escape. They can’t walk on them.”

“How’d you know that?” Really, Percy?

Grover huffed indignantly. “Trust me—if you had hooves, you’d know about it.”

Once your upper body is out, you shift your lower body out of the grate, elbowing your way out and across the grass. It’s warm and soft, and you could almost believe you were safe. If it weren’t for the bright-red cows, the color of cherries, roaming the place and eyeing you like you were a great source of minerals. For some reason, Hera’s visit plays on your mind. You reach down on your stomach for Percy, next, as he steps into Grover’s clasped hands and reaches for your arms. After he’s up, the two of you reach for Grover, who takes a jump at the opening while you both grasp his arms, yanking him out of the maze.

Grover wrinkled his nose, eyeing your surroundings. It might have been heavenly if not for the animals and the weird smell of manure. “Red cows? They’re sacred to Apollo, aren’t they?”

Percy barked a laugh. “Holy cows?”

Nodding, Grover clicked his fingers. “Exactly. But what are they doing out here?”

“Go ask one—”

Percy slapped a sweaty hand over your mouth. You almost gagged, and pried his hand away. He shook his head, and that’s when you heard it. Rustling, and tiny treads. Turning around, goosebumps rattling your skin, you came face-to-face with…

A dog.

But not any normal dog, because you weren’t that lucky. A two-headed dog.

You rolled your eyes so violently it hurt. Waving a hand to the dodgy dog, you sighed. “Just go back to the maze. Get in the maze. I can’t, really.”

"Hang on!" Percy held out his hand. "Didn't Hera say something about a farm?"

Ah. "I mean...she couldn't have meant one with freaky dogs and cows, could she?" Abnormal is normal in your world. Unfortunately, more likely than not, abnormal means you're on the right track. Its when things die down that you have to worry.

"Nico might be here," Percy reasoned. "Why don't we go ahead, take a look around, and if he isn't here we'll go back, inside the maze"

With a deflated sigh, you cast your eyes around the fields. Hills rolled, and rolled, and rolled as far as the eye could see, holding your hand up to shield your face from the sun. Cacti and boulders dotted around, and trees sprouted randomly, almost bare under the burning of the sun. Those red cows grazed on grass, mooing in the distance. You didn't like the feel of the ranch by any means, but you did feel that you were on the right track. Percy was right; Nico was here, at least nearby. What was the harm?

The dog growled behind you, you'd almost forgotten it was there. With a bark from both heads, it advanced, sniffing the air. It closely resembled a greyhound, thin and long with sleek, brown fur. It, obviously, did not appreciate seeing you on its farm.

And neither did its owner.

A tall, broad man came trudging from the same bushes the dog emerged from, wearing a straw cowboy hat and a tee that said 'Don't Mess With TEXAS'. He carried a huge wooden club sporting spikes bristling from the end against his muscular shoulder. His white hair lay messed from whatever work he was doing, and his mouth was curled in an impressed snarl.

All in all, a very good sign.

"Heel, Orthus," he grumbled. The dog whined but sat, paws held tight together.

You choked on your own breath. "Orthus?" You wrangled out.

Percy leaned in close, as if the man and his dog were not standing right there. "Is that a bad thing or just a really bad name for a dog?"

"This is Cerberus's brother!" You beamed shakily. "The lovely dog we met in the Underworld, remember?"

Gulping, Percy leaned back. "Ah."

The place really was a Greek past come back to haunt you. From ancient monsters to ancient greek ghosts, the party never ended. Maybe it was Luke's doing, releasing them back into the world Perhaps you just got unluckier the further you wewnt on this quest.

"What've we got here?" the man swung down his club. "Cow-pushers?"

"We're only passing through. Just travelling."

"We're on a quest," added Grover helpfully.

The man, who couldn't have been older than middle-age, raised a suspicious brow. "Oh yeah?" he said sardonically. You nodded your head frantically. Being under fire was the least of your concerns when the dog still sat there. "Half-bloods, eh?"

Percy scratched his head. "Could you tell?"

Dropping your hand on his arm, you back Percy up peacefully. Maybe an explanation will help. The man considers the three of you. "This is Percy, son of Poseidon. And Grover, the satyr. I'm a daughter of Athena-"

With a nod of his head, the man's mouth curved. "She the mediator?" He looked from Percy to Grover, completely blanking you. Humiliation pinched you. The man dropped all feelings of humour at your expense and glowered. The change was so sudden you couldn't help raising your hand to the strap of your backpack and feeling for your dagger, making sure it was still there. "I know what you are, half-bloods, because I am one. Surely if you know your legends you should know who I am, missy?" You were not offered a chance to guess. "Eurytion, the cowherd for this ranch. Son of Ares. And I'm guessin' you came through the maze like the other one."

"The other one?" questioned Percy. "Did he mention his name?"

"We get a lot of people come through the ranch," Eurytion uttered somewhat darkly. "Not a lot leave."

"Wow," drawled Percy. "I feel so incredibly welcome."

Eurytion looked over his shoulder like he was expecting someone. Then he turned back and lowered his voice. "I'll only say it once, demigods. You'd better get back inside that maze before its too late."

"Ha! Don't have to tell me twice." You make for the empty cattle-grid hole. A firm hand pulls around the strap of your backpack and stops you before you can jump down.

"We're not going anywhere," Percy said adamantly, "until we see this other half-blood you mentioned."

Eurytion grumbled. He set on past you, past Grover analysing him, and the move of Percy's grip from your bag to your hand, gently tugging you along after the man. "Then you've left me no choice. Should have listened to your girlfriend, here."

Percy spluttered, you stared mortified after the man. Grover shoved a hand at either of your back's to urge you along the way.

Despite his threatening nature, and unhappy expression, the dog at Eurytion's feet seemed relatively happy, diving in and out of bushes and around cacti, barking and springing around. Heat danced off the beaten path he led you down, going on for forever. A blister began to rub at the back of your heel, and before long you were shaking off your jacket, sweating like crazy. It dripped down your face and flies buzzed at your ears, so when you swiped them away every five seconds you closely resembled a crazy woman. At this point, it didn't feel far off. Every few yards, you passed by pens of the cherry cows, and weirder animals, like horses with zebra stripes in black and green, and lizards in cages with tiny little wings and bloodshot eyes that followed you. A fence held back horses in a pen, covered in spikes. At first, you wanted to take Eurytion's giant club and break them free, until you watched a couple breathe fire. The ground at their feet was dirty and charred somewhat, and their stack of hay was on fire.

Percy and Grover shared your reluctance for the animals. "What are they for?" asked Percy. Grover attempted to talk to them and recieved a billow of fire.

"We raise animals for lots of clients; The Lord Apollo, Diomedes, others..."

You draw your eyes to him. "Such as?" you drawl.

"No more questions!"

Your guide came to an end at the approach of a big, white house on an incline, all stone and beautiful windows. It might have been Victorian, judging by the porch trimming and the rose-tinted stained-glass front door.

"Don't break the rules," uttered Eurytion, quiet as ever. "No fightin'. No weapons. And no comments about the boss."

Up the steps, you snorted. "What's wrong with 'the boss'?"

Before he could reply, a new voice called out along the porch. "Aha! Welcome to the Triple G Ranch!"

Oh, sweet gods. At first glance, he seemed normal enough, if you took away the Sportacus-style moustache on his face. He had shiny black hair, and smiled individually at each of you. The wrong part of this was the three bodies.

You held back a gag. The nightmares would be neverending once you got out of here.

Eurytion nudged you. "Say hello to Mr. Geryon," he muttered.

Your voice failed you. Before anyone could do anything, the colored doors to the house flew open, a young voice calling out. After so many months, hearing him was like a breath of fresh air. You could breathe, because Nico was here. Black hair in flat tendrils brushed his brown eyes, a very pale face and small nose scrunching, eyeing the labelled jar in his hands. You forgot, almost, how young Nico really was, but he was here, wandering the maze alone.

You stepped forward, the porch creaking. "Nico?"

It grew silent, but quickly changed. Nico threw the jar to the ground, and it smashed to tiny, tiny pieces. Drawing his sword, he angled it almost instantly at your throat, a fierce expression on his face. The sword he pointed at you was short, extremely sharp-edged, and black, some sort of iron you hadn't seen before. Was it a gift from Hades, you wondered?

Geryon yelled when he saw it. "Put the sword away, Mr. di Angelo. I will not have my guests killing each other."

Nico's face dropped, eyes wide. "But..."

Geryon threw down the skewers he was holding. They clattered against the metal grate of the barbecue he cooked at. You jumped. "I know who they are!"

"They let my sister die! They're here to kill me, too!"

"Nico!" astonished, you reached out your hands, but he shoved away, a terrible hatred in his eyes. "We want to help you, not hurt you. Bianca was an accident—”

“Don’t say her name!” He yelled. There was such an act of anger in his voice. “You’re not even worthy of talking about her! You killed her!”

“Hey!” Barked Percy, approaching behind. “That’s not fair. It’s—hang on, how do you know who we are?”

Geryon winked. “It’s my business to know of everyone who passes by the ranch, sonny. Everyone who comes this way wants something, you see. Now, Mr. di Angelo, put away the damned sword before I have Eurytion take it from you.”

Very reluctant, Nico sheathed his sword. If he weren’t a hell of a lot shorter than you, the boy might have been looking down his nose to you. “If any of you come near me, I’ll summon help. And trust me, you don’t want me to do that. Got it?”

So demanding. To keep the peace, you nodded once. “Yeah. Sure. That’s fine.” If you looked compliant to Nico’s demands, you stand a better chance of him leaving the maze with you.

Geryon approached heavily and clapped a hand on Nico’s shoulder. You wanted nothing more than to pull the young boy away from him. “There, there. We’ve all made nice. Come along folks, I wanna give you a tour of the ranch!”

You weren’t sure what to expect when he said tour, but a ride in a small two-cart and car mobile was not it in the slightest. The carts were painted black and white in a cowhide pattern, a bell dancing back and forth from the ceiling of the car cab.

“Damn,” you huffed, climbing up after Grover and settling heavily into the seat. “I was hoping for a Mercedes.” He snorted after you. “Never-less, we ride in style.”

The dire cart lurched forward, its gold bell ringing above. Geryon pointed out different animals and pens, chugging along the hills. You couldn’t help enjoying it somewhat, able to take the humour from the situation after a stressful few days. You pointed out some sheep with shaggy black hair and eight pudgy legs, like spiders. They walked in a line like Capybaras, round and round the pen. Past horses with wings but not Pegasus. Their wings were scarlet, and fluffy.

“Do they lay eggs?” Asked Grover, leaning forward to squint at the animals.

“Once a year!” Geryon called over his shoulder. You couldn’t help feeling sorry; the animals didn’t look too happy. “They’re very in demand, lately. The omelettes are spectacular!”

“That’s cruel!” Cried Grover, sitting back with hunched shoulders.

“Gold is gold,” Geryon waved off, a mean grin taking place. “And, you haven’t tasted the omelettes. Hush.”

“That’s not right,” Grover muttered. Geryon continued his narrated tour with the sun beating down. You wished you packed sunscreen as your cheeks began to itch.

“Now, over here are the fire-breathing horses. You probably saw ‘em on your way up here. They’re bred for war, fightin’, if you couldn’t tell.”

“What war?” Asked Percy.

You didn’t like his sly face. “Oh, you know, whichever comes around. And over there are the prized red cows.”

“There’re so many!” Grover peered.

“Yes, well. Dear Apollo is too busy to see them,” he sneered. “He subcontracts to us. We breed them vigorously; there’s such demand as of late.”

“That’s not dodgy at all.”

“Demand for what?” Pried Percy tensely.

“Food, of course.” Duh, Percy, it sounded like. “Armies gotta eat.”

You hum. “So, if I’m getting this right, you kill the sacred cows of a god for burger meat? I swear that’s against some laws, man.”

“Lordy, girl! Don’t get so worked up! They’re just animals.”

Grover almost had a fit. “Just animals?!”

“Yes. If Apollo cared, he would let us know.”

“That’s if he knows,” you fold your arms, putting your feet up on the side of the cart. Geryon met your eye in the mirror—if looks could kill.

A little voice cried from the back cart. Nico. “We had business to discuss, Geryon, and this isn’t it!”

“All in good time, di Angelo,” he mused. He hooted. “Look over here; my exotic possessions.”

The field now was crawling with scorpions, the giant, creepy ones that originally backed you and Percy into the maze. They snapped and clacked, and tried pinching at the fence as you passed.

“Triple G Ranch! Your mark was on the crates at camp. Quintus got his scorpions from you!”

“Quintus?” Geryon shrugged. “Short, grey hair, muscular?”

“Yeah,” said Percy.

“Never heard of ‘im.”

Something cold spread in your chest. Realisation, almost. “Oh,” you shivered. “Hang on. Quintus knew about the maze the whole time, then. He’s been going in and out for who knows how long trading monsters. We’ve been trying to figure out how the maze works, but the loser’s known this whole time!” Grover whispered for you to quieten down, but you couldn’t. Because if Quintus knew about the maze, knew where the ranch was and how to get to it, and back out again, who could say he hadn’t done it before. Who could say he hadn’t led Luke and the army into the maze, and who was to say he wasn’t guiding them. He hadn’t protested your quest. Just what the hell was he playing at?

“Now, to your left you’ll see the very best the ranch has to offer!”

The ‘very best’ turned out to be a terrible state of a stables, containing horses just mulling around in their own…you know what. Sitting beside a giant, green-tinged river, the stables had to be the most disgusting display of very best you ever set your eyes on. From the back of the cart, Nico gagged loudly at the smell.

“What the hell is that?!”

Geryon smiled proudly. “My stables! Well, technically we house the horses for a small fee. Aren’t they just…” he inhaled deeply, “beautiful.”

Percy scoffed, and Grover yelled out. “They’re disgusting! How can you even keep innocent animals like that?”

Geryon slammed a palm down on the cart. You didn’t jump this time; you expected it. “Y’all are getting on my damn nerves. These are flesh-eating horses. They like these conditions!”

“Have you asked them?” You tapped your fingers on your thigh.

“It’s in their nature,” Geryon ground through clenched teeth. “They love it.”

“Plus, you’re too cheap to have them cleaned out,” came a voice beneath Eurytion’s hat.

Geryon snapped. “Quiet, now! Alright, perhaps the stables are challenging to keep on top of. Maybe they do make me feel nauseous. And what? I still get paid.”

There were many words you could have used to describe Geryon: cheap, distasteful, creepy, rude. The fitting word in this case, given his prideful and clearly narcissistic nature, was…

“You’re a monster.”

Geryon stopped the cart. Grover let out a sad sigh, watching the horrible man turn in his seat. He met your gaze. “What gave it away, sweetheart? Was it the three bodies?”

You rolled your eyes and looked away, slouching down the seat as if it would get the attention off of you. “Don’t be condescending. I’m only telling the truth.”

His nostrils flared, hot-tempered. “My clients appreciate it. I do good work, here.”

You let out a sudden laugh sitting upright. “Is one of these ‘clients’ Kronos, at all?” Percy whispered your name warningly. “You just supply his army, don’t you?”

Geryon shrugged and confirmed it without words. “I work for anyone who can pay.” He climbed out of the cart and took a leisurely stroll toward the stables, as if he hadn’t just confirmed he was working with Kronos. A tiny figure scampered after him, and a much bigger one—Eurytion—after him.

“We really need to grab Nico and get out of here.”

Grover nodded in agreement. “How, though? I might be wrong but he doesn’t really seem to want to come with us.”

“Anyone got snacks left? Maybe we can bribe him with food.”

“He isn’t a dog,” snickered Percy. “We just need to get close enough and then run.”

“We’re not kidnapping a kid, Percy.”

“I came here for business!” Nico screamed from the stables side. “And you haven’t answered me!”

Geryon reached out and plucked up a handful of cactuses like they were soft teddies. “You’ll get a deal, all right.”

Nico’s tiny figure got right in Geryon’s personal space. “My ghost told me you’d help! He said you could guide us to the soul we need.”

You groaned. “He has a personal ghost assistant now?” Laying your head back against the wood, you watched Percy, grappling with something internally. His face twisted, then he nodded his head.

“I think it’s Minos.”

Grover spluttered, hooves clattering on the cheap floor of the cart. “As in, King Minos? Dead Minos?”

“I haven’t heard of anyone else called Minos…”

You exhale slowly. “Damn, I thought I was the soul Nico wanted. Y’know, after what happened to Bianca.”

In a tiny voice, Percy murmured, “Me, too.”

“You thought Nico wanted my soul and didn’t say anything about it?”

“Apparently so.”

“Can you help me or not?!” Nico cried.

Geryon shrugged. “Oh, I could. Your ghost friend; where is he?”

Nico struggled, looking uneasy. “He can’t appear in broad daylight. But he’s around somewhere.”

Geryon nodded slowly, watching Nico’s reactions. “I figured. Typical Minos, always disappearing when things get difficult.”

Nico stepped back, right into Eurytion. “What do you mean by difficult?”

“You see, Nico, Luke Castellan is offering a bit of money for half-bloods, especially powerful ones like you and Percy, over there. When Luke learns just who you are, Nico, you’ll be priceless! He’ll pay…very well, to put it lightly.”

In a flash Nico drew his sword, but Eurytion grabbed it with a strong hand and threw it from his grip. You jumped up in an instant and pulled your dagger, only to be thrown down back in the seat by a strong force and a snap of snarling jaws. Geryon laughed heartily. “I’d stay in the car, you guys! Or Orthys will tear out your friend’s voice box! So, Eurytion, could you please secure Nico and take the sword. I do hate Stygian iron.”

“Do I have to?”

“Yes, you absolute fool!”

Eurytion picked up Nico in one strong arm, kicking and flailing, and the sword in his free hand. Geryon turned and clapped his hands, pleased. “So, let’s go back to the house, hm? We can have lunch and send a message to our friends in Kronos’s army. Once Nico has been delivered, you three are free to go! I have been paid for your safe passage, which does not include Mr. di Angelo, I’m afraid.”

“Paid by who?” Threw Grover.

“Never you mind!” He snapped, then calmed. “Let’s go, then.”

“Wait!”

You wanted to tell Percy to shut up and let you make the plans, because you’d gotten this far. But the dog still had you pinned down, and smelled so bad you could scarcely breathe without wanting to heave.

“You said you’re a businessman,” said Percy. “So make me a deal. I’ve got something better than gold.”

Geryon mulled over this. “Mr. Jackson, you have nothing.”

“You could have him clean the stables,” offered Eurytion not-so-helpfully.

Percy jumped at the chance. “I’ll do it! If I fail, you get all of us. You can give us to Luke.”

“That’s assuming the horses don’t think you’re a bite to eat.”

“Either way, you’ll get my friends! But if I succeed, you have to let us all go, and Nico!”

“No!” Screamed Nico ungratefully. “I don’t want your help, Percy!”

Geryon laughed mirthlessly. “Percy, the stables have not been cleaned in years. Though I could probably sell more space if they’re cleaner…”

“So what have you got to lose?”

Idiot boy.

Eurytion stared at the sun and nodded. “Okay. I’ll accept your offer. But if you fail, your friends are sold off and I get rich.”

“Deal.”

Eurytion rubbed his hands together greedily. “I’ll take your friends back up the hill with me. They can wait for you there.” He whistled, and the dog on your lap jumped away from you and onto Grover’s feet.

Percy climbed out of the cart and rounded to your side, sitting up. He was red in the face from the heat of sitting under the sun in jeans, and the pressure of making a terrible deal. He locked eyes with you.

“I hope you know what you’re doing, here.”

“I hope so, too.” His hand slipped from the edge of the cart.

“Sunset!” Geryon instructed. “No more time after that.”

You left Percy by the lake under the hot, hot sun.

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[oneatlatime]

Lake Laogai

This Lake had better have Appa in it. With little water wings on.

Skipping the commentary as usual.

The Previously On section suggests that a whole lot of plot threads are about to crash into each other. Strap in folks.

Lefty Sokka!

Beat up Sokka quota fulfilled by his sister's critique of his art skills. It's not like he had paper to practice with at the South Pole.

Sometimes I forget that Aang is 12, then he does something like attempt to rescue his pet from a nefarious city-wide conspiracy of silence with lost cat posters.

"Good tea is its own reward." That means no, he isn't paid enough.

Remember what I said in my last post about Iroh bringing too much attention to himself?

"senior executive assistant manager" someone on the writing team has worked retail I see. Nothing like meaningless promotions with no raise attached! It's right up there with employee pizza party.

I have to pause here and point something out. This whole scene with Iroh? This is an adult fantasy. I don't mean dirty, I mean this whole scene was put in specifically to appeal to the adults who got roped in to watching this kids' show by their children. A rich man walks through the door of your shitty retail job, immediately spots your natural greatness, and offers you a much better paying job with unlimited creative freedom and a better house to go with it? Find me a burnt out retail worker who hasn't conjured up this fantasy five times a shift.

And so the plots come crashing back together. This won't end badly.

"patience really pays off" I checked. He waited literally three seconds.

Shout out to Toph in the background playing catch with a ball she can't see. Casual flex of epic proportions.

Remind me never to go to Lake Laogai. Sounds like it's lousy with Ju Dees.

So the Ju Dees don't know about each other? Because she seems honestly confused. Does Ju Dee think she's the only Ju Dee? What happens if two Ju Dees run into each other in the street?

Posters are illegal but I haven't heard a peep about recarving a bunch of fields into a zoo.

This is maybe the second time Aang's blown up over Appa. Frankly he deserves more blow ups about the whole situation.

I don't think knocking down walls will help find Appa, but I applaud Toph's spirit.

They took out a whole wall and then exit by the door anyways. That's funny.

I really hate this guy, but I have to admit that he may be the first truly competent villain of the series.

'The Jasmine Dragon' also lets anyone with half a brain know that you're Fire Nation. Try the Jasmine Badgermole instead.

Zuko really can't catch a break, huh? He wasn't happy being a tea server, but at least he was resting. But every time he gets five minutes to himself, the main plot reappears to drag him back into the action, whether he wants to or not. Although he hasn't figured out that he doesn't want to be dragged back yet.

Every line of dialogue in this scene is a good point. Zuko's right, Iroh's right. The Zuko's right again, then Iroh's right again.

YES YES YES GET HIS ASS

That was satisfying!

I'm not understanding why Sokka is the voice of reason here. Is he incapable of holding a grudge? He's the one that had all the animosity with Jet to begin with. Shouldn't it be Aang who wants to hear him out?

Toph is a living lie detector now? I can't think of an example off the top of my head, but I'm sure that could have come in handy previously. Any other incredibly useful skills we should know about?

Jet is oddly defensive for someone who claims to know he did wrong.

Ever get so excited that your spine malfunctions?

Sokka just has a metre long map in his pocket. Good friend to have in a pinch.

Avatar first! Katara is rude to an old person!

I'm going to have fun with Toph's new ability.

Toph, you have never been more right. It is the worst city ever. You are really shining this episode.

I know this is a serious scene, but I need to point out that Jet's guyliner is on point.

This shot is jarringly out of place. I think it's because it both black and white, and live action. Those have to be real clouds.

So the Blue Spirit can talk after all. Careful, your Zuko is showing.

Wow Zuko is good at sewing. And fast too.

Sokka is having far too much fun with this whole 'prompt Jet's memory' thing. Maybe he does have a bit of a grudge after all.

Katara can reverse brainwashing now too? Everyone's levelling up this episode.

This scene with the planks is a very cool and disorienting visual.

Didn't have 'the gaang breaks into a brainwashing facility' on my ATLA bingo card.

Pretty.

OMIGOD IT'S AP- did Zuko just break the fourth wall?

Everyone always forgets to look up.

So this fight is going to be Toph v. all of the Dai Li while everyone else tries not to get in Toph's way.

That's a boat.

Toph could probably take all these guys out faster if she wasn't having to constantly break off to save everyone else from them.

The Dai Li prancing up walls is a really cool visual. It's very Ty Lee of them.

I love watching her work.

Why don't you let Long Feng escape? He's no longer threatening you, and you're down there to rescue Appa. Just let him go.

The security on Lake Laogai is a joke.

Big words from someone who also had no plan whatsoever at the North Pole.

Zuko knows that Iroh's right. He knows, and that's important. I don't think Iroh is saying anything that Zuko hasn't thought and then hurriedly pretended to have never thought about before. It's why he says 'stop it' rather than being completely confused as to what Iroh is referring to.

Poor Appa's like 'can you have a crisis of self after you free me please?'

'You've chosen your own demise." No. You chose it for him. That's some top tier deflection/victim blaming right there.

Longshot can talk!

That's one hell of a set up and pay off re: Toph's lie detecting abilities.

Poor Jet. A double tragedy: to be likeable only when you're brainwashed, and to dedicate your life to wiping out the Fire Nation yet being killed by the Earth Kingdom.

Hi Appa. It's about time buddy.

Shockingly in character for Appa's first actions to be to single handedly save the Gaang from a threat.

You skip that bastard like a stone.

Everyone go and listen to the sound Appa makes when he spits out Long Feng's shoe. It's delightful.

I am framing this.

And this too.

I can tell there's some shmymbolism here, but it's gone right over my head.

Final Thoughts

Appa is back. The Gaang has Appa back. I have Appa back. Ok. I can relax now. With any luck, this means we can leave Ba Sing Se.

This episode felt like City of Walls and Secrets, Part 2. I think it was a good decision to have a couple of episodes between the two, but I think there would be some tonal whiplash if you binged this section of season 2. Which wouldn't have been a problem for a show designed to air once a week, so it's a moot point.

So Zuko freed Appa from his chains, and presumably pointed him in the direction of a door or something. Or maybe not; Appa has a ridiculously hard head, he could have busted his way out. Either way, Zuko broke the chains. Thanks Zuko!

In season 1, Zuko finds the Avatar the world had lost. In season 2, Zuko finds the Sky Bison the Avatar had lost. So in season 3, Zuko will find something Appa has lost. I wonder what that will be?

Jet being killed by the Earth Kingdom is so deliciously ironic, and tragic, yet very in character for the Earth Kingdom's approach to this war. It's also literally this:

Smellerbee and Longshot have really gotten the short end of the stick over and over this season. They were the only ones to decide to stick with Jet. Presumably they were the only ones who believed that he had had a legitimate change of heart. And they were kind of wrong. They get to Ba Sing Se only for Jet to immediately backslide way past even where he was at his worst in Season 1. He completely discounts and dismisses their legitimate concerns for his methods and his overall health. Then Jet gets arrested and disappears for two (?) weeks. So what do they do now? Get jobs? Steal so they don't starve? Then suddenly Jet's back but he doesn't even remember them. Then suddenly Jet's dead. The whole point of coming to Ba Sing Se just died, in a way that shows very clearly that their desire to help with the war is not welcome at all in the city. So what now? Do they leave and try to fight in the war from outside the walls? Do they settle down and try to forget about the war? Things did spiral completely out of Jet's control once the Dai Li got involved, but you have to admit that he's left his only remaining friends up a creek.

Sokka had some good jokes but was oddly ok with this episode's events. Toph had some great lines and got to shine with a new skill that any writer with half a brain will bring back in future episodes. She felt like the audience substitute this episode, which is usually Sokka's role. Toph was episode MVP for sure. Poor Aang took a bit of a back seat this episode. Zuko finally hit the crisis point, and may well have made his first indisputably correct decision of the series. But, as previous episodes have gone out of their way to show me that Zuko being good always goes badly for Zuko, I'm sure freeing Appa will somehow come back to bite him.

Iroh's question of "who are you? And what do you want?" was Zuko's entire character arc this season. He took a shot at answering the "who are you?" portion in Zuko Alone, and sort of halfway got there before messing up at the end of the episode. As for the "what do you want?" Zuko will tell you (often and repeatedly) that he wants his honour back. But I think he just wants to go home. The thing is, I strongly suspect that the home Zuko wants to return to hasn't existed since his mother left, if it ever existed at all. Which means that while "who are you?" has an answer Zuko can work towards, "what do you want?" has an answer that is kind of impossible. So Zuko is going to have to learn to want something new.

RIP Jet. Your life was fucked to Hell long before you were old enough to try and salvage it. You'll probably be missed by more people than you strictly deserve. War sucks, amirite?

[repulsiveliquidation]

I’ve Got You.

Leah Williamson x Lucy Bronze x Reader

Little! Lucy Bronze, Little! Leah Williamson. Caretaker/Dom! Reader. We visit the zoo and Lucy starts to slip. They get back to the hotel and Leah begins to slip too. Reader finds that a night in instead of heading out with the Lionesses as planned is in order. Reader is also Lotte’s sister! this is just fluff city, i didn't know what i was going for really so this just kinda happened lol

//

“They’re in here, Y/N. You can hear them giggling!” Kiera told you as you walked into the conference room the Lionesses were sitting in. Sarina had just given them the World Cup briefing; you said hi to all the girls who were filtering out of the room and had a quick word with Sarina. Leah and Lucy were giggling at the end of the table, clearly having just pranked Lotte as she scowled and became more and more frustrated with the pair. She saw you coming, a glint in her eyes and a smile sent your way. You reciprocated, smirking back at her with a knowing sibling look.

“This better not be what I think it is, girls.” You announce, the two of them standing straight and turning suddenly with slight guilt in their eyes. “What did I say about the pranks? Georgia nearly got hurt last time and I had to have a conversation with Sarina to promise to keep you in check hm?” You crossed your arms and tried to look and sound as stern as possible. Lotte saw through you, Leah and Lucy suddenly finding their shoes more interesting. “I’d like for you to apologize please, darlings. Properly.” You ask, sitting slightly on the table with a Cheshire grin on your face, giving the girls a taste of their own medicine.

“Sorry, Lotte.” Sang the two, Lotte walking out of the room with a grin on her face and a high-five for you.

“C’mere, my loves.” You ask and open your arms, both of them immediately rushing into your arms. You had just flown in, having taken time off from your own job to follow the Lionesses for their World Cup run. Leah whines a little, inhaling deeply while Lucy kisses you and snuggles into your side. You kiss both their foreheads, sighing softly. You sent them off last week, having had a little more work to do before taking such an extensive amount of time off. But it was worth it, these girls in your arms deserved it.

“I’ve got permission to have you both for the rest of the day, I thought we could go sightseeing, how’s that sound?” You ask as you hold their hands, both girls mindlessly following you. You had rented a car, finding that it would be easier to go to games and such. “Yes please!” Leah jumped with excitement, running towards the car as it locked and hopped in the front seat. “Hey, no fair! You got the front last time!” Lucy argued, frowning and huffing as she sat in the back. You chuckled and walked over, buckling her in and kissing her forehead. “I’ll let you sit in the front later, babygirl.”

You got into the driver’s seat, now having one happy girlfriend and a pouting one. “You didn’t buckle me in.” Leah said with a sad voice. “Girls who sit in the front without asking don’t get buckled in!” Lucy quipped, grinning from ear to ear. Leah’s bottom lip quivered, you leaned over and kissed her cheek before reaching around her and buckling her up. You started the car, now with two happy girlfriends again; you made your way to your first destination. Leah and Lucy still fought over the AUX cord, with a valuable lesson about sharing, they finally had a good playlist going. “Where are we going babe?” Lucy asked, looking around at all the pretty buildings here in New Zealand. Having lived here for a while when you were in college, you knew the area pretty well. Leah had fallen asleep, music turned down now. “It’s a surprise, angel.” You told her, reaching back to hold her hand for a while as you came closer to your destination.  

The Auckland Zoo was something that the girls had been buzzing about for weeks when they were called up for the World Cup. (let us dream that Lee was called eh?) You parked and got out, Lucy carefully waking Leah sweetly. It made you smile, snapping a quick picture of the two of them together. It made your heart swell seeing them together, these two girls becoming the centre of your world over the years you’ve been together. Leah held a tough exterior, the captain’s armband for team and country a huge responsibility that she took very seriously. She enjoyed that when she was with you, she could let herself go and that she could be the unapologetic girl she was. Lucy was also someone who held herself to high standards and while long distance with her was hard, she wouldn’t want anyone but Leah and you by her side.

Leah was wide awake by the time you went in and got tickets, holding hands with Lucy as she poked her head in the gift shop. “We’ll get you both something when you leave okay? Can I trust my girls to be on their best behaviors?” They both nodded, already running in and pointing at all the animals. Nothing made you happier than seeing them enjoy themselves be normal people with no responsibilities on their shoulders; you were more than willing to carry it for them if it meant that you got to see their big smiles and hear their cute giggles.

“Y/N, look at the kangaroo!” “Luce, the Koala is so soft!” “Woah, can we feed it?” Leah clearly had a better time than Lucy did, the girl quiet and enjoyed the whole trip holding your hand and walking slowly with you while Leah bounced off the walls; the nap clearly having given her superpowers. While she looked at the birds, you checked in on Lucy. “Are you okay, babygirl? What’s wrong?” Her eyes look a little glossy and she’s biting her lip. You cup her cheek and give her a knowing kiss. She’s teetering on slipping and it won’t be long till she does. “Are we slipping, my love? Is that it?” She nods, leaning into you. “I can hold out for a little while, baby.” She tells you quietly after a while, Leah forgetting the birds and instead focused on Lucy.

You decide to leave before she slips even further, making a quick pit stop at the gift shop for a Koala for Leah and a Kangaroo for Lucy. They insist you get a Lion for yourself, which you do, and you head back to their hotel. Lucy, as promised is in the front seat, and Leah is in backseat singing along to the radio. You reach back for her hand like you did with Lucy earlier, making her smile even wider than you thought possible.

Lucy had fully slipped by the time you had gotten back to the hotel, thankfully being able to carry her into the room get her comfortable. You texted Alessia and told her that the three of you would be missing dinner, telling her that Lucy had slipped and that Leah was not far behind. The whole team knew, always keeping an eye on the two of them when they could, having your number on speed dial for when they needed you. She was feeling a much littler than usual, already whining and wanting uppies. You had thankfully packed their essentials, grabbing Lucy’s pajamas and bubble bath toys and setting them in the bathroom. Leah helped for a minute before she found her new koala Jeff way more interesting. You were just about to grab Lucy and give her a bath when you heard a wail. Your head shot up and Lucy was startled, both of you looking at a now sobbing Leah. She had slipped too. You sort of knew she would, she had texted you this morning that she had felt the urge and had hoped that when you got here you would help.    

“Leah, what’s wrong my love?” You cooed, picking her up into your arms. You sat beside Lucy, who was busy sucking her thumb. “mama ‘nore me.” Leah said, hiccupping through her words. “I’m sorry babe I didn’t mean to. Lucy needed me more than you baby, I thought you were alright by yourself and I’m sorry. Can my sweet girl forgive me with a kiss?” you ask her softly, she hides her face in your chest and nods, head lifting to give you a wet kiss. “Thank you my darling. Now, how about we get you both showered and in bed hm? We’ve got a big day tomorrow.”  

Once bathed and dressed in warm clothing (both were in your hoodies, insisting that their pajamas just weren’t the same), you tucked them in and left them to watch some tv while you sorted yourself out. Taking a shower and completing your nightly routine in record time, you climbed into bed wearing one of Lucy’s training shirts and laid in the middle of the big bed they were sharing for the tournament. They immediately cuddled into your sides, Leah’s eyes drooping already and Lucy’s focused on Bluey playing on the telly. You kissed their foreheads and rubbed their backs as they slowly fell asleep. Leah pressed a kiss to the underside of your jaw and Lucy whispered “tank you mama,” before drifting off to sleep with the two girls whom she felt the safest with.

Morning came and the girls were back to their big selves. Leah felt much more relaxed and Lucy’s head was clearer. You joined them for team breakfast, joining in in a little prank that Georgia had orchestrated to get Lotte. Lotte sat there in disbelief that you would turn on her that way, laughing so hard you were crying and clutching your stomach. She only punched you playfully (that’s a lie, it was hard) and walked away laughing, mumbling something about being betrayed by her own family.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for wanting to name a kitten something else from the rest of my family?

My mother has gotten a kitten to add to our five cats (Tia, Crosby, Nash, Delilah, and my sister's cat, beans; my sister's staying home from college due to summer break), no shame on that part. We have the money, care, and space to handle them and they behave well! besides a few quirks that are easy to manage (ex: dragging clothes around). We have had her for 3 days.

On the first day, I offered the name Cupid, as the kitten is quite affectionate and the pattern on her head that goes onto her back looks like an arrowhead. My mother rejected the name but didn't come up with one either, so i kept referring to the kitten as Cupid. Second day we came to an agreement on the name Cara, as she felt like something to do with love and I wanted a C-name. Last night my sister came home.

My sister has been out of town for a while to travel to the coast to go to a house party, hasn't spent much time with the kitten compared to everyone else. She doesn't want the name Cara, as she knows a couple. Cara isn't too much of an uncommon name in my opinion. Okay, we can find something else. Another name my mother suggested was Cassie. I could see the kitten being named Cassie. My sister says no because the name reminds her of a character from Euphoria who ran around with her tits out. Like Cara, Cassie isn't too much of an uncommon name either.

To put how stupid I think this reasoning is into perspective, I have a very common name. I know many people who share my name, personally or not. Good people, bad people, fictional people, what not. There are people out there who associate my name with millions of different things.

My mother and my sister decided to name her Venus without talking to me about it, which is a name I feel like doesn't fit her. My father also wants to name her Venus, but he's not important in the situation.

Another reason my mom doesn't want to accept my name is because she claims I've named a lot of pets recently." Her two examples are both rabbits, one she bought as my pet and another she took from a family friend who was giving her away. When it comes to the second rabbit and the kitten, she asked for my help in naming her. The only other animals I have named are two out of seven chickens. We have three dogs (not named by me), five cats (new kitten + four mentioned, not named by me), 11 rabbits (3 named by me, two previously mentioned), and seven chickens (2 named by me). I call them pets because it's not like we run a petting zoo. We live in a rural area so we have the space. 26 pets, 27 if you include my sister's cat, and I have named 5. The rest by my sister and mother. The more I typed, the more I realized it sounds fake, but I can provide photos if asked.

I feel if we can't decide on a name then we should talk about it and agree to something.

I am still going to call the kitten Cara in protest.

AITA?

[carolmunson]

baby, as if (the flashbacks)

the flashbacks: part one. baby as if: masterlist (read with caution.) i looked at that poll and i said 'absolutley not, you'll take what i give you.' jk, but i realized it'll just be easier for me if i take this a few chunks at a time, so i give you the beginning of 'the flashbacks'. here, you'll see eight, six, and five and a half years ago. a little entry way into how reader and (not so) f!boy eddie met and started getting involved. tw: 18+, oral (f recieving), not much in terms of tws for this entry, discussions of drugs and drug dealing -- otherwise pretty fluffy. our timeframe setting starts out in 2007-ish. (take all actual year timelines with a grain of salt, i just like incorporating the early aughts into shit.) but here we go, i give you the beginning of baby as if: the flashbacks.

8 Years Ago You didn't really know each other when he started working at the shop. Your dad had mentioned 'my daughter' in passing, but you didn't go to Hawkins High or middle, you went to the highschool in the next town over using your aunts address because it was a better school. Your parents didn't want you to end up stuck like them, but you'd already beaten them by not getting pregnant at nineteen. He knew you went to college in Fort Wayne to study English -- he thought that was stupid since you spoke English already. Why would you have to spend all that money to study it? That didn't make sense to him.

He did know your little brother, Beau, often found small and sugar high at the end of a long day at kindergarten being dropped at the shop by your mom so she could take more clients at night in the salon. Eddie would take the morning shift on cars and then the afternoon shift as a baby sitter until the shop closed at 5:30. He'd take that time to teach him how to read -- but only the best books. He started with the Hobbit and went from there.

On one particular hot summer night, your mom didn't come by to drop off your brother which made sense since it was the summertime -- but he still heard the pitter patter of his light up sneakers against the concrete floor.

"Beau, don't run please!"

He hadn't heard that voice before, it wasn't nearly as nicotine soaked as your mom's or your aunt's. Eddie feels the slam of a tiny skull against his mid thigh and looks down to see Beau looking up at him with his big baby eyes.

"Hi," Beau says -- breathless in the way little kids are when they run or take a big gulp of water. He reaches up at him with his arms over his head, "I didn't wanna go home yet so I asked sissy if she could take me here after camp."

"Sissy?" Eddie asks with a quirk of his brow, hoisting him up onto his hip, "You're gettin' big dude, I don't know if I can keep pickin' you up."

"My sissy," he says, pointing over to the office your dad normally spent the afternoons in, but there you were right outside of it. Summer sun soaked, shorts tight over your thighs, run down sneakers and an old weathered sweatshirt completed your look. Eddie gulped at the sight of you but you were too preoccupied with your phone to pay attention.

"Mumma, can you tell Eddie about the dragon I saw at the zoo?" Beau asked, shimmying down Eddie's body to get back down on the floor to run to you.

"Okay kid, is she your sister or is she your mom?" Eddie asked, trying to hide confusion and surprised. You look up at him with a gaze that immediately makes him feel stupid, but intruiged.

"Ew, no, I'm definitely his sister," you answer while snapping your phone closed, hand falling onto Beau's head, "Can you guess which one of us was the mistake?"

Your playful grin makes him laugh, "Sorry, he called you mom so -- I just didn't know."

"Don't worry -- it's sorta like when you accidentally call your teacher 'mom' when you're a kid. He just gets confused," you shrug and introduce yourself before asking, "What's your name?"

"I'm Eddie. I uh --"

"Oh! You watch Beau when he's out of school!" you interrupt, "He talks about you all the time."

"You're not telling him about the dragon, sissy," Beau whines and squirms, "I seen a dragon today."

"You saw a dragon today, B," Eddie corrects, "I saw, not I seen."

"Still seen one," Beau crosses and uncrosses his arms with a dramatic eye roll, already bored with the conversation enough to scurry over to another co-worker.

"He saw a bearded dragon lizard at the zoo today," you smile.

"I swear he's five going on fifteen with all that attitude," Eddie says with an exasperated sigh through puffed out cheeks, "Gives me a run for my money..."

You laugh a little out of your nose and flip your phone open, he's stunned at how fast you text. Your thumbs flying over the keyboard of your Sidekick iD. All he had was some Nokia burner from Rick and an iPod he stole at the gym.

"Uh, your dad's in there, by the way. Like, you can just go in," he says. His coverall feels too hot and scratchy, noticibly concious of how much is pools around his sinewy frame. He doesn't look like a man the way the other guys who work here do, he doesn't really feel like one either. Too soft. Too gentle. Even when he was lugging around tires and getting into fights at The Hideout.

"He's on the phone," you scrunch your nose while you point at the door, keys in your hand jingling. He thinks about what you'd do if he reached forward and tapped his finger on it. If he traced down the bridge gently. You look so touchable.

"How come I've never seen you around before? I've been here like, almost a year," he says, running the rag that was over his shoulder through his hands to occupy himself.

"I'm not around a lot, normally in Fort Wayne 'cause I go to school there. I stay with a friend and work at the school over the summer to make some money," you explain, "Trying to save up for my own place."

"Oh, cool," he nods, swallowing the disappointment in his tone. Of course you don't want to stick around this shit hole town. You have better things to do. You're literally in college.

"What's your SN? I'll add you to my buddy list and tell you all the weird shit Beau says this weekend," you giggle.

"What's an SN?" Eddie asks, throat running dry. Is this some kind of joke? Are you trying to make fun of him or something? "SN? Your screen name?" you reply, cocking your head when he still doesn't know what you mean, "Like your AIM screen name?"

"Oh!" he says, embarrassment continuing to creep up on him, "Like, on the computer? We um -- I don't have one at home so I never really signed up for it."

"Oh," you say softly, nodding, "Um, well like, what's your number then? Gotta keep up with Beau's replacement older sibling."

He internally gags when you refer to him as your replacement. Did you already put him in that catergory? The friendzone? That's what they called it at the comic book store when they had their D&D nights and just talked about girls.

"Here," you say, handing the phone out to him with the 'New Contact' page up. He takes it, albiet shakily, unsure if Rick would want him to be giving out his number to just anyone -- but you're so cute and girls never ask for his number. Not even after they hook up with him in his van outside of the bar. Rick would understand.

"Thanks, it's saved under Eddie M," he replies sheepishly, "In case you know any other Eddies."

"I don't," you smile, "But I'll keep the M."

The door to the office opens and your dad appears, tired and disheveled but glad to see you.

"Hey kid, where's the gremlin?" he asks you gruffly.

"I don't know, probably doing something illegal," you shrug, but the pitter patter of light up sneakers on concrete starts up again across the garage.

"Let's go, buddy," he says while Beau leaps up into his arms.

"That was a big jump dude. What, are you half spider monkey or something?" Eddie teases.

"We saw them at the zoo, today!" he calls out, before turning to his dad, "And I also saw a dragon."

"That's very cool, you'll have to draw me a picture when we get home," he says with a nod before putting his attention on Eddie.

"I'm gonna head out, but are you good to lock up here with Mark?"

"Yeah, for sure," Eddie nods. A smile spreads across his lips, maybe you'll think he's important or something, "It was um...it was nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you, too," you say softly while you head toward the door with your dad. He tries not to look, but there's something about the way your cut off shorts hug your ass that has heat rushing to his cheeks.

You turn back as the door is about to close behind you and grin, "I was the mistake, by the way. I'll shoot you a text after nine!"

You do text him after nine.

'heyyy. how r u? :)'

No one ever really asks.

Six Years Ago

He didn't mean to fall for you, but how could he not? Your weekly to bi-weekly phone calls during your senior year of college were all he looked forward to. Outside of pay day and parties at Rick's. And D&D campaigns. And shows at The Hideout. You were up there, you were top ten. He swore it. 

He knew when you came home for winter break last year, helping your parents bring Beau to swimming lessons and indoor soccer. It started with small, yearning, glances when your daddy would invite him home for dinner, or you'd drop off lunch for the guys. Soft little flicks of brown eyes from under envious full lashes to watch you watching him, leaning over his work bench to ask him a question for your dad. Watching you live your life in your family’s small house while he ate brisket and showed Beau how to do shading in his coloring books. He nearly died when you grabbed his hand in the kitchen, manicured nails dancing over the new burnished silver jewelry on his fingers and asked, ‘Are these new rings? Where’d you get them?’ 

He'd survey you while you helped your brother with his math homework when your mom was busy with her fourth haircut that night -- your aunt who wouldn't pay her and your dad too burnt out to do anything but drink in front of the TV in his recliner. 

"Oh, no, that's not right," Eddie pipes up gently. You looked up at the sound of his words, sitting across the kitchen table while you stood over your brother's shoulder. 

Eddie blushes, scrunching into his shoulders, "Sorry, sorry, it's just, you're a little off -- when you're converting ounces to pounds you--" 

"I don't need you to teach him about grams, ounces, and pounds, Munson," you say softly, a little giggle escaping your chest. He flushes deeper than before, "I think he's a little young for that." Everyone knew what Eddie did on the side, it didn’t take much to find out what he always had hidden away in his beat up backpack. Your daddy said that it taught him good entrepreneurial skills and as long as he wasn’t getting into trouble or selling to kids, he was fine to work at the shop until the cops came knocking – and they never did. 

"Sorry, I just -- Just because it says 5 doesn't mean it's a half pound. 5 ounces isn't a half pound, it's like a 'gotcha' question," he explains. Your brother's eyes are glued to Eddie, his cool rings and long hair, his leather jacket, the soft stubble on his chin. Eddie was the coolest guy your brother had ever met, so if it meant he had to learn weight conversion from a drug dealer, then so be it. He'd listen to him before he’d listen to you. 

"How many ounces are in a pound, bud?" he asks. 

"Sixteen," your brother replies. 

"What's half of sixteen?" 

"Eight." 

"You're so sharp, dude," Ed encourages, "You should skip second grade, for real."

"So even though it says point five, it's actually eight ounces? Not five ounces?" your brother asks, pencil tracing over the question on his work sheet. 

"Exactly," Eddie grins, "See, you get it." 

He meets your eyes for your approval and when you nod, running a hand over your little brother's head comfortingly, he has to hide the giddiness on his face in his hands. 

"How come Eddie's good at math and you're not?" your brother asks. You laugh, Eddie's snort comes out from behind his hands, dancing through his silver rings. 

"I haven't taken a math class in a while, Eddie does math every day," you say, like a kindergarten teacher trying to explain bomb drills. 

"How come?" 

"Oh, um," you look at Eddie, his flushed cheeks and boyish smile, "He's just -- Eddie's really smart."

You stayed out in Fort Wayne for six months after graduation until your mom got let go at the salon. 'Making room for new talent', they'd said. She'd developed joint pain, recurring carpal tunnel -- she couldn't do as much as she used to. So, like every good first born, you moved back home to help out -- taking whatever job you could find. At first it felt bad to be back in your childhood bedroom, forced back into the mundanity of the world around you. The embarrassment of running into people you knew at the mall or getting gas. But at least one thing was fine, you got to see Eddie -- and he was kind of exciting. Way more exciting than your job at the diner you picked up back in May. It worked out fine, you guess. You'd have mornings off some days to take Beau to school and to soccer, or baseball, or whatever sport he was into that season. Your mom would do hair in the kitchen for the older ladies -- roller sets, perms, colors. She could take her time with them, they had no rush. Then you'd leave for the diner when Beau came home and your mama would take more clients in the evening. Your daddy would be home at five thirty to take on the heat. 

Things were easier on your parents when Eddie started coming around to keep Beau occupied. The second grader had a lot of energy, even after sports practice or game days. Eddie's personality matched his in intensity -- always finding new ways to keep him engaged in his homework, in his reading, in the way he navigated the world. Beau was at a fourth grade reading level by the end of the school year and whipping through math like he was born to know it. Your daddy started taking Eddie to boxing matches and monster truck shows with Beau. Your daddy started to forget you were there, too. 

Except when Eddie’s big brown eyes started to linger a little too long at you one night when you were at work.

“Munson, I’m old. I’m not stupid,” your dad’s voice grumbles like a bad engine when he talks, “You wanna ask my daughter on a date, don’t you?” 

Eddie sputters into his orange soda, smattering it onto Beau who throws into a fit of giggles. 

“Uh – what?” he gasps, “Sir, I – excuse me?” 

“I see how you’ve been lookin’ at her since you saw her two summers ago,” he shakes his head, coughing a cigarette cough into his fist, “You’ve got the most love sick eyes I’ve ever seen.” 

Eddie can’t help the blush that grows in his cheeks, “Sir, I dunno about that.”  “Everyone knows you have a huge crush on sissy, Ed,” Beau says matter of factly, taking a big gulp of his chocolate milk. Ed reaches for the cup as he goes for a second gulp and eases it out of his hands. “Slow down, kid,” he huffs, “And gross, dude. Girls have cooties.” 

“Sissy has her cooties shot,” Beau shrugged, “She told me when I said there’s no way you liked her, ‘cause girls have cooties.” “Did sissy ask if I told you I liked her?” Eddie asks with a smile. Beau smirks and giggles, tiny teeth shining back at his dad – he’s a troublemaker but he’s no good at keeping secrets. Your dad smirks into his coffee mug, too.

“Did she ask you if I liked her?” Eddie’s heart pounds in his chest when your dad nods at his question. 

“Did um – did she say if she liked me?” he stammers out. He pressed his tongue to the roof of his mouth to squeeze out any remaining moisture as he saw you walk out of the kitchen to one of your tables. Two regulars, construction guys -- Bryan and Charlie, always come in at the same time and always tip big cause they think you're pretty. Eddie hates that he hates when you talk about them -- you aren't his, it shouldn't make him so upset. He smiles to himself for a minute when you press a hand to your lower back, scrunching your face in pain. He can tell it’s because you always pop your hip to one side when you take an order. 

“She might’ve mentioned something,” your dad shrugs, “But I asked you a question, kid.” 

The sticky heat from outside flows in through the door and into his chest, “Am I allowed to ask her on a date?” 

“She’s twenny-two, she can do what she wants,” he laughs, “Just don’t have her coming home in a cop car and you got my blessing.” 

“I promise I won’t have her come home in a cop car,” he breathes out. His excitement outweighs his embarrassment when you come over to the table. To him, your diner dress fits you just right. To you and your dad, you wished it was a little looser. He swallows hard when you plop your hands on the linoleum and lean forward on your palms. Your manicured nails click on the plastic when you drum them a few times, the pen in your hand shines.

“Anything else I can get you boys?” you ask with a smile. 

“I think we’re heading out, pum’kin,” your dad’s jagged grin shines through his eyes while Beau crawls over Eddie to get out of the booth, “Gotta take this rugrat to the movies for his friend’s birthday party.” 

“But um,” your dad chuckles while he stands up, stretching a bit before adjusting his biker vest, “I think Ed’s gonna stick around. Said he had somethin’ to ask you.” 

Five and ½ Years Ago Money flows when he makes it. Your first date was to the movies, nervous hand holds on your knee – uncertain arm around your shoulder. He smelled like Suave body wash and cigarettes. Your second to some restaurant out of town, he stumbled over his drink order and yours but it made you giggle in a way that made him giggle too. He wore a ‘nice’ shirt that Wayne let him borrow but he shifted in it all night – rolling up the sleeves and opening up the collar. Some chicken scratch tattoos on his forearms. He kissed you in the van with warm full lips and smiled all the way home. But as the months went on and Rick started giving him bigger plays, bigger bricks to move – two years in the trenches had his seeing stacks he had only dreamed of before. You got to reap the benefits. A pair of earrings, nicer dinners, paying for your manicures every now and again. New tattoos on his arms, on his chest, littered in them – good ones too, he’d go out to Ohio for them. He’d work his shifts at the garage with your dad and then on some nights and weekends do his business. Your daddy still looked the other way, if the cops weren’t knocking then it didn’t matter. Eddie was making you happy, he was making everyone happy, so there wasn’t any reason for him to worry. You spent your shifts at the diner thinking about when he’d come pick you up. Thinking about when he’d come in during your opening shifts and flirt with you while he had a cup of coffee – sometimes in his coveralls, sometimes in his clothes from the night before. He smelled good, new colognes – he got a couple. You liked the one he wore on date nights and loved the one he wore during the day. Got some silver chains to match his rings – subtle upgrades. He’d started to fill out some – making more money, eating more, more muscle, more cash, more confidence – still yours. Still lovesick. ‘The most lovesick eyes I’ve ever seen.’  

His hair tickled your thighs while he had you splayed out on the mattress in Rick’s guest room, the ‘welcome to the weekend’ party still raging down stairs as the night begins to approach the early hours of the morning. Perks of living on the outskirts of town – no neighbors to call the cops to tell you to shut the fuck up. The thud of the music makes the walls vibrate, putting you in a steady trance in the dark. The joints you were passed earlier had made their claim, body languid and floaty — he could have you just how he wants you. 

“Fuck, you taste so good,” he whispers into the crease of your thigh while his hands push your knees apart further. His tongue is his best feature, and he knows it now. Easily his strongest muscle with the way it’s started to get him in and out of anything. Sweet charm turned as silver as his rings as he got more and more successful, more and more of Rick’s approval. His tongue lies flat in slow intentional drags between your legs, spit pooling out in its wake. He likes to take his time here to build you up, your soft ‘hm’s encouraging him to keep his pace.

“It’s nice like that, huh?” he asks gently, pressing a kiss to your clit, “Using my tongue on you?”

“Yeah,” you breathe out, eyes closed and sleepy. His head pokes up from between your legs when he notices your body reacting less and less to his mouth. Your sounds get progressively quieter, losing enthusiasm.

“Hey, you okay?” he asks, crawling up over you. 

“Mhm,” you respond, eyes still shut. 

“You fallin’ asleep on me?” he laughs, thumb coming up to run over the side of your head, “You little lightweight.” 

Your lips stretch into a smile, the weight of your high pressing you further into the mattress. Each time you take a breath you feel yourself falling further and further away, it’s almost scary until it's not – because he’s there. You feel the pad of his index finger run down the bridge of your nose and slide over your bottom lip. He quietly eases off the bed, grabbing your panties and jeans from the floor to put them back on with the finesse of a person who’s had to redress their passed out friends many times before. You’re almost out like a light when he drapes the throw blanket over your legs, adjusting it to slouch messily over your shoulders. You barely feel the kiss he leaves on your forehead. 

“I love you,” he whispers, before heading back down stairs for a drink. You wake up to the music still blaring downstairs, mouth dry and disoriented – realizing that what woke you up is the sound of the door opening. 

“Hey sleepy, didn’t mean to wake you,” Eddie whispers, wincing a bit as the music gets louder. He closes the door with his hip, clicking on the overhead light making you both squint, “Well, technically I did, but I didn’t mean to wake you up like this. I brought you some food, baby.” Heat rushes to your face at the name. Baby. No one had ever called you that before. Not other hookups or boyfriends - always ‘babe’, never ‘baby’. Always ‘babe’, never ‘angel’, never ‘sweetheart’, never ‘my girl’. Eddie called you every sweet name he could think of. “Thank you,” you smile, eyes falling on the ringed hand cradling a paper plate with two slices of pizza, dripping in grease. The other held a can of Pepsi that he watched your eyes fall on for a brief moment.

“They didn’t have Coke, m’sorry,” he scrunches his nose, leaning in to give you a kiss while he places the plate and can on the side table, clicking on the lamp. 

“That’s okay, this is fine,” you smile, he smiles back while clicking the big light back off. He crawls onto the bed next to you, the warmth of him enveloping you in his scent, his body heat, his essence. Things moved fast since your first date. You’d never felt loved like this, you’d never been kissed how he kissed you. It’s like he wrote the schematics for your body and kept them a secret until the day you let him touch you in the back of his van. The day you let him take you in your bedroom when your parents went to watch Beau’s baseball game. Even his stare made you flustered. Eddie would say the same about you. Gareth and Jeff would label it as lovedrunk, Rick said he was more addicted to being with you than he was to making him money. Sandra at the diner said he’s obsessed. Obsessed with you. It had a nice ring to it. 

“Thank you again,” you nod, cracking open the can of Pepsi that soothes your dry mouth instantly. 

“Anything for you,” he smiles while his hand reaches to yours, pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

“I heard what you said, by the way,” you smirk, “When you left the room.” 

His face somehow blanches and fumes red like sweet cherries at the same time, “You weren’t supposed to.” 

“Didn’t want me to know that you love me?” you tease, shoulder bumping him with a laugh. He doesn’t laugh back, he just looks at you with soft eyes – big and brown, begging. 

“Is that stupid?” he asks softly, disappointment weighing heavy on his tongue. 

“No! No! It’s not stupid,” you quickly assure, “No, I um –” You smile down into the can of Pepsi, manicured nails on your opposite hand drumming on the aluminum. “I love you, too,” you whisper, “I was nervous that maybe it was too soon. I didn’t like…I didn’t wanna scare you.” “Scared by my girl saying she loves me? Nah,” he shakes his head, teeth gleaming in a smile that hurts his cheeks, “That’s the best shit I’ve heard all year.” “Why don’t you eat first,” he starts huskily, taking your Pepsi can and placing it on the side table. The cologne on his skin had mixed pleasantly with tobacco, enveloping you in sandalwood, fruit, and smoke. His lips were plush as he pressed first against the corner of your mouth and then the other, holding his index finger in the center of yours. He nuzzled your nose gently before easing himself into a deep kiss, index finger tracing down your cheek. “As I was saying,” he starts again, a light giggle floating out of his chest and escaping pink cheeks, “Why don’t you eat first and then maybe we can go to mine and I’ll show you how much I love you.” “What about Wayne?” you ask, looking at his distorted face with your foreheads so close together. He steals a quick kiss from you again, another on your cheek. “Wayne’s staying close to the plant to do a morning shift, so he won’t be home until tomorrow night,” he grins, “We can play house all day tomorrow.” 

“You’re stupid,” you laugh, leaning back to take the pizza off the side table to take a bite. “What? You don’t wanna be my baby all day?” he gets on his knees on the mattress to lean into you, lips finding their way to your cheek and jaw. You squirm under his touch, a feather light gasp coming out of your mouth when he nips at the spot at the top of your neck. “What’s got you so flustered, hm?” he teases into your ear, his ringed hand trailing up your thigh. Your hand covers his and he stops his journey, pulling back a little. “Nothing bad, s’just – I really like it when you call me baby,” you hide your face with one hand, “I don’t think I’ve said that before. It’s just really nice.”  “Baby,” he pours out like warm syrup, it sounds so natural in his nicotine soaked voice. He pulls your hand away, smattering slow soft kisses across your cheeks. Mumbling between each one, “Baby, baby, baby.”

[lisenberry]

WIP Wednesday

Snippet from Chapter 4 of The mountain is you.

CW: Language, dom/sub dynamics, innuendo, jealous Price.

The two men sitting across from you at the table of your go-to restaurant for closing deals with pushy potential clients were a father and son, CEO and VP team.  Your company offered a service that theirs needed desperately.  And they had the audacity to demand it at a cut rate.

They tried so hard to impress you with their staggering wealth and impressive portfolio, they must’ve forgotten that this was your job.  That you weren’t fooled by overwhelming displays of douchebaggery.  By smoke and mirrors.  Cutting through the bullshit was what you did best.

And as dinner went on, they piled it waist high.  Flung it around like monkeys at the zoo.  In the end, you just had to plug your nose and wade through it with patience and your head held high.

Fuck them, their rare car collection, their villa on Lake Como, and their 75-meter yacht.  You were ready to give in, to take the loss just to get them to stop fucking talking so you could go home and take off your bra.

The waiter had just brought over another round of drinks when you looked up to see John find a seat at a nearby table with an older couple who looked to be in their late sixties, and a beautiful woman in her early thirties.

It only took a second for his gaze to meet yours across the room.  It was exactly the type of situation you had avoided with Ghost.  That awkward breaking of the fourth wall when you ran into each other in the real world.  Outside the protection of your carefully curated sessions.

You tried not to stare, but it shook you more than you thought it would.  Part of your contract was that you’d be exclusive.  For safety purposes, you’d have no sexual partners outside of each other throughout the duration.  It was one of his hard lines. 

One you could easily keep.  Was it so hard for him?

He even had the gall to look angry, eyes darkening perceptibly even in the distance as he held up his phone briefly. 

A second later, you received a message on yours.

Meet me in the bathroom.  Five minutes.

Surely, he wasn’t serious.

Your companions were still talking away, congratulating each other on their mastery of the universe, as you quickly typed your response.

Is that your wife?

Taking a sip of your water, you smiled impressively to the older man naming dropping who he was playing golf with over the weekend.  Careful not to turn back toward John, whose daggers you could feel as sharply as though they were lodged in your skin.

My sister.  Are you fucking the father or the son?...or both?

You looked up at the dynamic duo and stifled the urge not to vomit a bit in your mouth.

Ick, no.  Clients.

There was a long pause before he responded, but you still didn’t look back at him.  His presence too much for the room.  His hold on you too strong for polite company.  The vibration of the next message jolted you like a jump scare.

I gave you an order.

The blood drained from your face.  Your mouth went dry.  Your panties, on the other hand, seemed to catch both like a grounding rod of sensation.  Hot and slick.

Fine.  Don’t be nice, you typed, before adding.  Please.

You did look up then, just in time to see John nod once before excusing himself and disappearing down a long hallway.

“I’m getting the feeling that I’m being dicked around here, gentleman.  I’m going to take a minute in the ladies’ room.  When I come back, if you don’t have a number ready that I can work with, I’m going to walk out that door and instruct my assistant to stop taking your calls.”

Not that she could anyway.  You were still working on that particular aspect of her job description.

But that, along with any other concerns, disappeared below the surface when you opened the door to the single restroom in the back of the restaurant.    

“Don’t be nice, eh?  Do you have any idea what you’re asking for, sweetheart?”  He growled from the corner behind the door, just before he pounced on you like a panther in the dark.  Eyes flashing with a sort of calm, primal patience.  The kind that waits, as long as it takes, despite the sweet smell of fear in its prey.  Despite the promise of how good it will taste.

Stumbling back out of instinct, you only hit the hard wall behind you.  Trapped.

[phoenixeclipse-lmkau]

Cursed Warlords Asks - Volume 1

#One - Several

#Two - Reader’s Knowledge on Lmk

#Three - Language

#Four - Language

#Five - Magic Understanding

#Six - Crushes

#Seven - Reader’s Abilities and Hobbies

#Eight - How Reader saved Spirit

#Nine - Bathing + Extra Scene

#Ten - If someone flirts with Reader

#Eleven - Reader’s world

#Twelve - Shadowpeach Arc Notes

#Thirteen - Concerns on Artifacts

#Fourteen - More on the Artifacts Debate and ideas

#Fifteen - Spirit’s Backstory

#Sixteen - Overheard Crushes!!

#Seventeen - 🔞 NSFW Headcannons

#Eighteen - Singing

#Nineteen - Macaque’s Ears

#Twenty - Are the cubs!?

#Twenty-one - Jttw Arcs Idea

#Twenty-Two - Mk

#Twenty-Three - Before and After the artifacts

#Twenty-Four - Reader's Name in the Book of The Dead

#Twenty-Five - Su, Chu Lin and Spirit's dad.

#Twenty-Six - Reader gets mad

#Twenty-Seven - Immortality

#Twenty-Eight - Lmk World bits and pieces

#Twenty-Nine - Time loops

#Thirty - Post courtnapped grooming

#Thirty-One - Monkey's Heights

#Thirty-Two - Big Spoon Cuddles

#Thirty-Three - Annoying Sister In Law

#Thirty-Four - Crumb Block (Didn't know what to call it)

#Thirty-Five - Wukong and Macaque Zoo

#Thirty-Six - Boops!!

#Thirty-Seven - Idea Dump / Courtnapped

#Thirty-Eight - Spirit’s Descripition

#Thirty-Nine - What if Reader was a Monkey Demon?

#Forty - Pregnant Reader

#Forty-one - Meeting another Monkey Demon

#Forty-Two - Japanese Flying Squirrel

#Forty-Three - If Reader was too late

#Forty-Four - Yandere Mk vs Yandere Redson (based from a poll)

#Forty-Five - Medication

#Forty-Six - Perversion, Fantasies and Gore

#Forty-Seven - Reader's Family Ideas

- Cursed Warlords Master post -

[romanpaulov]

Today, June 6, Mia's five celebrate their first birthdays! Yep, these little fluffs turned 1 years old! Hooray!🎉

We all watched together how the grew up and became more and more manulish, learnt how to put paws on a tail, played snow balls, came through their first winter and really fluffgrew! Snezhinka (Снежинка) even became a social-media star and a mascot of New Year Capital of Russia!

All five fluffs - four brothers and their sister - are still living in Novosibirsk zoo. Guys still don't have names because the zoo has a plan to give them away to other zoos.

The most intriguing questions — who is their father? We still don't have a solid answer to this question, but you have to know that Mia has dates with three manuls that spring — Zelenogorsk (Зеленогорск), George (Жорик) and Earl (Эрл) 💞

Happy first birthday lovely fluffs! We wish you to be the most happiest manuls on Earth and live long!💫

1 and 2 — Snezhinka, 3, 4 and 5 — manul-boys.