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demigodsanswer · 22 days ago

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His mom had been confused when Percy told her that Grover was coming with him and Annabeth on their cross country journey.

"You know you two don't need a chaperone, right?" She'd asked. Percy appreciated having a cool mom. She was cooler than him, really.

"Yeah, but it's about old times sake," Percy explained. "And he can smell monsters at a distance," he added, "and we need him to rent the car." Grover was thirty. They were not.

"Ah," his mom said, "that makes sense."

Grover's nose ended up being something of a liability. Or at least, a wrench in Annabeth's itinerary. But she was used to Percy and Grover, and, well, even herself, disrupting her own plans.

Annabeth had planned the whole trip of course. Every meal, every motel, every road side attraction she had penned down in her time table. And she'd found some really cool places along the way. There was one night they got to stay in an old train caboose. They were all pretty excited about it.

So it wasn't ideal when Grover yelled: "Stop!" At a volume Percy was tempted to call total pandemonium.

Thankfully that long stretch of county road on a late Sunday afternoon was empty. Percy was able to put on his blinker and pull over fast, while yelling "What? What? What?!" in harmony with his girlfriend.

"Animals in trouble," Grover said, before climbing out of the back.

"Well, let's go," Annabeth said, un-clicking her seat-belt and opening the door. Percy pouted. Their next motel was one of the few places they had the budget for two rooms, and he was hoping to get there sooner rather than later.

But he wasn't one to leave his two favorite people alone with the corn and whatever threat lurked in it. He took the keys out of the ignition and locked the door before following Grover and Annabeth.

Percy heard Annabeth's soft "aww," which mean baby animal close by before he heard the kitten squeaking for help.

And then he heard Grover's enraged: "Who would do this!?"

Percy looked at Annabeth, and saw the little gray kitten climbing her pant leg. She gently pulled it off of her, before cuddling it close.

The single kitten's cry for help was suddenly several kittens all looking to them. Percy counted seven -- no, eight -- no, nine. Nine. All little babies. All looking for help.

Annabeth and Grover looked back at him, and Percy didn't need an empathy link to know all nine were going in their car.

Not that he'd protest at all. He might be a bit burnt out on hero-ing, but kittens didn't count.

Before Percy could even really think, he was taking off his hoodie and gathering as many kittens as he could. Five, it turned out, would fit. Grover did the same. When they got back to the car, Annabeth was behind the wheel, and Percy and Grover were in the back with nine new babies.

"That's all of them, right?" Annabeth asked.

"They said three have already faded," Grover said, sadly. Annabeth looked about ready to cry, "but these are all the rest of them. They're from three litters."

"Poor things," Annabeth said. "We need to take them somewhere, and fast."

They dropped Grover off on the side of the road and drove about a mile up while he checked Google maps and called some other satyrs for help. The last thing they needed was Percy's proximity to a cellphone bringing a chimera down on their nine new babies.

"Good news," Grover said when they picked them back up, "there's a satyr nearby who fosters kittens. He can take them and get them to a vet."

The little gray one had fallen asleep in Percy's lap. It was the same beautiful dusty color as Annabeth's eyes. It had been the first one to call out for help, the brave one who was near the road, who climbed up Annabeth.

"All of them?" Percy asked, scratching the kitten behind its ears.

"Well," Grover said, "he has room for all nine. Unless ..."

Percy met Annabeth's eyes in the rear view mirror.

The gray kitten started purring in Percy's hand. Now he was pretty sure he was going to cry.

"Your friend will make sure they get good homes, right?" Percy asked.

"Yeah, of course," Grover promised. "Of course, you two would be a good home."

"You can't say shit like that," Annabeth said.

"And please, not when she's driving. She's only got her learners permit," Percy reminded Grover, wiping the tears from his own eyes.

"Wait, so letting you drive right now is super illegal?" Grover asked.

"Oh yeah, for sure," Annabeth said. "So don't make me cry."

"As protector of this cross country quest, I am going to need Percy to take over," Grover said. Annabeth put on her turn signal and pulled over.

There wasn't much farther to go to get to the satyr who would take the kittens. But Percy took over driving anyway. The little gray kitten screamed when he tried to move, though.

"She doesn't want you to leave," Grover said.

Percy pulled his arms into his hoodie so that he could turn it around, getting the hood in front. He plopped the kitten in his hood, and she stopped squealing.

"It's a girl?" Annabeth asked.

"That one is," Grover confirmed, petting the kitten between her ears. Percy looked at Annabeth, and he had a feeling they were on the same page. He looked at Grover, and Grover got the memo too. "She's decided you're her dad," he told Percy. Well, that did it.

"Well, good," Annabeth said, "because she's sticking with us."

"Does she have a name for Annabeth?" Percy asked. Nope had named him Alley Boy, so maybe this time she's be the one who --

"Mom, just mom," Grover said.

Annabeth cried for real that time. Percy wiped her tears, kissed her gently, hardly even annoyed that she didn't get a crappy nickname, before saying, "I better get us to this satyr fast, before we end up with nine kittens to take care of."

Neil Sapling actually had a very robust kitten room set up, and he seemed completely prepared to accommodate eight new babies into his life. He also made sure the one who had adopted Percy and Annabeth got fed, had food for the road, a litter box, a collar, a carrier, and good bed to sleep in. Although, she did prefer Percy's hood.

"She's a bit dirty," Neil told them, rubbing her down with some no-rinse shampoo quickly, so they could get back on the road. "She's actually a diluted tortie it looks like," he said, pointing to some spots of brown and white on her. "That's a rare coloring! Be careful though, she'll have an attitude."

"She's perfect," Annabeth said.

"Birds of a feather," Percy teased. Annabeth didn't even protest. She just nodded and picked up the little baby.

"Are you okay sticking with us?" Annabeth asked her.

"She said yes," Neil promised. "As long as I promise to find good homes for the rest of them. Which I will. I swear to Pan, your brothers and sisters are taken care of." Their kitten squeaked again. "Alright, she says she's ready to go then."

Percy plopped her in her little carrier, and they said good bye to the rest of the gang.

When they got back in the car, Annabeth took the front seat again, and let the kitten out to sit on her lap.

"Oh my god," she said, looking at the little thing, "we have a cat!"

"Never thought the two most dog people I've ever met in my life would have a cat," Grover said from the back.

"Well, with a lady so perfect, how could we not?" Percy asked, scratching under the baby's chin.

"Is that her name?" Annabeth asked. "Lady?"

"No," Grover said, "she's not a fan."

"Let's get back on the road," Percy said, "and see if we come up with something good."

"Does she have a name?" Annabeth asked Grover.

"She said no, but she'll let you know when she approves."

"Annabeth Junior," Annabeth suggested.

"I might want to name our human daughter that, try again," Percy said. Annabeth turned bright red and smiled, while Grover made a barfing noise in the back.

"What was the name of the cat who lived in your bodega?" Annabeth asked.

"Not sure," Percy confessed. "Everyone just kind of called her 'here kitty kitty,' or 'good girl.'"

"Well, 'good girl' won't work," Annabeth mumbled.

"Too much! I know too much about you both!" Grover said, obviously full of regrets.

Percy just laughed.

After a minute of uncomfortable quiet, Annabeth said, "What about 'Bodega'? Maybe 'Boo' for short?"

"Huh?" Percy said.

"Her name," Annabeth said. The kitten was fast asleep in her lap, purring as she rubbed her belly. "If we called her Bodega, you'd always have a Bodega cat, even out in California."

"I really like that," Percy said with a smile and a warm feeling in his chest. "Of course, it seems like it's up to her," Percy said, nodding towards the kitten.

"What do you think?" Annabeth whispered to her. "Do you like that name? Should we call you Boo?"

The kitten purred louder.

"She likes it," Grover confirmed.

Percy smiled wide and drove on towards their motel with his little bodega cat in tow.

#sometimes you can't sleep #so you write about percabeth getting a cat #percabeth #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #annabeth chase #grover underwood #my writing #tortie cat supremacy

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solxamber · 6 months ago

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Rest Assured - Jamil Viper x reader

4 times you see Jamil nearing his breaking point and the 1 time you intervene

You’ve always prided yourself on being observant. Some might call it nosy, but you prefer thoughtful. After all, if you didn’t keep an eye on things, who would? Especially when it came to someone like Jamil Viper, who, despite his best efforts to appear unfazed, was absolutely not fine.

And lately, it’s been like watching a train wreck in slow motion.

The guy was practically doing everything—cooking, cleaning, managing Kalim, studying, practicing, and dealing with an endless amount of Scarabia chaos. But today? Today felt like the universe decided to crank up the difficulty setting on his life, and you were determined to intervene. But first, you needed to observe.

Instance 1: Spaghetti Saga

It began in the kitchen, where Jamil was, unsurprisingly, cooking for the entire dorm. Kalim, bless his overly-enthusiastic heart, had announced a Scarabia Spaghetti Spectacular—an idea that seemed innocent enough on the surface. Until you realized that Kalim had no intention of helping. Well, he tried. Keyword: tried.

“Jamil! Jamil!” Kalim ran into the kitchen, arms full of ingredients that had no business being in spaghetti. “Look! I found some strawberries! And these marshmallows! They’d go perfectly in the sauce, right?”

Jamil froze mid-stir, his hand gripping the spoon so tightly you were concerned it might snap in two. Slowly, he turned to face Kalim, a polite but strained smile plastered across his face. “Strawberries? In spaghetti sauce?”

Kalim nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah! It’s sweet, right? Sweet is good!”

Jamil’s eye twitched, just a little. “Kalim… no.”

“But—”

“No strawberries. No marshmallows. Please.”

Kalim deflated slightly but wasn’t deterred. “Okay! No problem! I’ll just add them to the salad instead.”

Before Jamil could react, Kalim darted off, presumably to wreak havoc on the next innocent dish. You caught the moment Jamil whispered to himself, “I’m in hell.”

And that was only the beginning.

Instance 2: Basketball Breakdown

The next incident occurred during basketball practice. Now, Jamil was usually the best player on the court, no question. Quick reflexes, sharp strategy—he could wipe the floor with the other teams without even breaking a sweat. But today?

Today, it was like he forgot what a basketball was.

It started innocently enough. A pass here, a dribble there, nothing out of the ordinary. But then one of the players tossed him the ball, and Jamil, in a moment that defied all logic and reason, missed it entirely. The ball smacked him square in the face with an audible thud.

The gym went silent. You could hear the collective gasp from the team, all eyes on Jamil, who stood there frozen, gripping his nose.

“Jamil!” Kalim shouted from across the court, jogging over. “Are you okay? Here, I brought some ice just in case!” He whipped out a handful of ice cubes from his pocket, offering them as if this was a totally normal thing to do.

Jamil stared at him, then at the ice cubes, and for a brief moment, you swore you saw his soul leave his body. But instead of snapping, he simply nodded, took the ice cubes, and walked off the court in silence, leaving everyone else standing there in stunned confusion.

“Did he just—?” one of the players started to ask, but you shook your head. “Don’t.”

You made another mental note. This was getting serious.

Instance 3: Paperwork Pandemonium

After practice, you found Jamil in his dorm room, surrounded by a sea of paperwork. And, of course, Kalim was there too, oblivious to the storm brewing in Jamil’s head.

“Jamil, can you help me organize these?” Kalim asked, holding up a stack of papers. “I don’t really know what half of them are, but they seem important!”

Jamil glanced at the pile with a deadpan expression. “Kalim, that’s the inventory for the next three months. You were supposed to file this weeks ago.”

Kalim blinked, still smiling. “Oh… well, I knew it was important!”

Jamil’s fingers twitched as he grabbed the papers from Kalim, scanning them quickly. “These are all overdue. We’re going to get fined if we don’t submit them by tomorrow.”

Kalim’s eyes widened in horror. “Tomorrow?! Oh no! What are we gonna do?”

Jamil took a deep breath, visibly restraining himself. “We aren’t going to do anything. I am going to fix this. Again.”

Kalim, ever the optimist, beamed. “Thanks, Jamil! You’re the best!”

And with that, he was off to who knows where, leaving Jamil alone in the paperwork disaster zone. You watched as he stared at the pile in front of him, his eye twitching again. He muttered something under his breath—something you were pretty sure wasn’t very polite.

You added another mental note. He was hanging by a thread.

Instance 4: The Final Straw (Almost)

The fourth instance happened later that evening, when you found Jamil in the library, supposedly studying for finals. But when you approached his table, you found him sitting there, staring blankly at a textbook. His pen was poised over a page, but he hadn’t written a single word.

“Hey,” you said softly, sitting down next to him. “How’s studying going?”

He didn’t answer at first, just continued staring at the book like it held all the answers to his existential crisis. Finally, he sighed. “I can’t do this.”

You frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I can’t… I can’t handle all of this. Kalim. Finals. The dorm. Everything.” He ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident in his voice. “It’s too much.”

You stared at him for a moment, then reached over and gently placed your hand on his. “You don’t have to handle it all by yourself, you know.”

He looked up at you, exhaustion clear in his eyes. “Who else is going to do it? Kalim? The other students? No one can do it like I can.”

You could hear the defeat in his voice, the resignation. He truly believed he was stuck in this never-ending cycle of responsibilities, with no way out.

That was it. You’d seen enough.

The Fifth Time’s the Charm: Break Time for Jamil

Without another word, you grabbed Jamil by the arm and pulled him out of the library. He barely had the energy to protest, following you like a zombie as you led him to a quiet, secluded spot in the courtyard. Once there, you gently pushed him down onto a bench.

“Sit,” you ordered, and to your surprise, he didn’t argue.

He sat there, looking completely drained, his usual sharpness dulled by exhaustion. You sat next to him, feeling your heart twist as you saw just how close he was to breaking down. This wasn’t the Jamil you were used to—this was someone who had been running on fumes for way too long.

You didn’t even think. You just acted. Before he could react, you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug.

Jamil stiffened at first, clearly not used to such open displays of affection. But after a few seconds, he slowly relaxed, leaning into your embrace like a man who had been drowning and finally found a lifeline.

“I’m so tired,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

You hugged him tighter, resting your chin on his shoulder. “I know. You’ve been doing too much for too long. You need a break.”

“I can’t,” he muttered, shaking his head. “There’s too much to do.”

“Screw the to-do list,” you replied. “You’re not a machine, Jamil. You need to rest, or you’re going to collapse.”

For a moment, he didn’t say anything, just leaned into you, letting himself be vulnerable in a way you’d never seen before. You could feel the tension slowly draining from his body, the weight of his responsibilities finally lifting, if only for a moment.

And then, before you knew it, he was asleep.

You blinked in surprise, looking down at his head resting in your lap. His breathing had evened out, and his face, usually so guarded and composed, was now relaxed in peaceful slumber.

You couldn’t help but smile, gently running your fingers through his hair. He needed this more than he’d ever admit. And you? You were more than happy to be his pillow.

Jamil didn’t wake up for a while, and when he finally did, it was gradual, the soft sunlight filtering through the trees casting a warm glow over the courtyard. His lashes fluttered against your lap, his brows furrowing slightly in confusion as he blinked awake. The moment he realized where he was, nestled against you, his cheeks flushed and honestly, he looked adorable.

“I—” Jamil began, his voice thick with grogginess as he pushed himself up, wincing at the stiffness in his muscles. “Did I fall asleep?”

You offered a soft smile, brushing a few strands of his hair away from his face. “Yep. Right in my lap, too. You must’ve been really tired.”

His eyes widened, and the blush on his cheeks deepened. Jamil rarely let his guard down, but right now, he looked almost vulnerable, caught between embarrassment and gratitude. “I’m… sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“Jamil,” you interrupted gently, placing a hand on his arm to keep him from sitting up fully. “Don’t apologize. You’ve been running yourself ragged, and you finally let yourself rest. I’m glad you did.”

He stared at you, as if he wasn’t quite sure how to respond. His shoulders sagged, and for once, he didn’t try to fight it. He stayed close to you, his body still angled toward yours, like he couldn’t quite bring himself to pull away completely.

You could see it, the weight of the exhaustion he’d been carrying for so long. The lines of stress etched into his face, the constant need to be on alert. Jamil had always been the responsible one, the one who took on everyone else’s burdens. But now, in this moment, you wanted to be the one to take care of him.

“Hey,” you said softly, threading your fingers through his hair again, watching as his eyes fluttered shut for a moment. “How about we get out of here? Take a break. A real break.”

Jamil’s eyes opened, and he frowned slightly. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, let’s go somewhere. Just the two of us. Somewhere far away from all of this. No Scarabia, no endless responsibilities. Just… us.” You leaned in a little closer, lowering your voice as if you were sharing a secret. “You deserve it, Jamil. You’ve done more than enough. It’s time to take care of yourself.”

He hesitated, his frown deepening, as if the very idea of abandoning his duties was too much to comprehend. “I can’t just leave… there’s too much to do. Kalim—”

“Will be perfectly fine,” you interrupted, your tone leaving no room for argument. “And besides, I think Kalim would be all for this. In fact, I bet he’d love the idea.”

Jamil looked unconvinced, but before he could argue further, you gave him a gentle nudge. “Think about it. You could actually relax for once. No one bothering you, no one asking for a hundred different things at once. Just peace and quiet. Doesn’t that sound nice?”

He glanced down at his hands, clearly mulling over your words. You could tell he was struggling with the thought of letting go, even just for a little while. Jamil had been in control for so long, it was hard for him to imagine a world where he didn’t have to be.

But you weren’t about to let him slip back into that cycle.

Reaching out, you gently cupped his cheek, tilting his head up so he was looking at you again. “You don’t have to do this alone. I’m here, Jamil. Let me take care of you for a change.”

His breath caught at your words, and for a long moment, he just stared at you, something soft and unspoken passing between you. Slowly, almost hesitantly, he leaned into your touch, his eyes slipping closed as he exhaled a long, weary breath.

“I don’t know if I know how to relax,” he admitted quietly.

You chuckled softly, brushing your thumb across his cheek. “Good thing you’ve got me then. I’ll teach you.”

There was a beat of silence, and then, with a small sigh, Jamil opened his eyes again, his gaze meeting yours. “You really think we could just… leave? Just like that?”

“Absolutely,” you said, the determination clear in your voice. “We’ll go somewhere beautiful, somewhere quiet. No one to bother us. Just you, me, and a whole lot of nothing.”

Jamil let out a breathless laugh, shaking his head slightly. “And what about Kalim? He’s bound to make a mess of things if I’m gone too long.”

“Don’t worry about him,” you said with a grin. “We’ll get him on board. Heck, Kalim will probably help us pack.”

And as if summoned by your words, Kalim himself appeared around the corner, grinning ear to ear like he’d just heard the best news of his life. “Did someone say vacation? I am so in!”

Jamil stared at him, his expression caught between disbelief and mild exasperation. “Kalim—”

Kalim bounded over to you both, practically vibrating with excitement. “Oh, Jamil, this is perfect! You’ve been working so hard lately, you totally deserve a break! You should l go somewhere fun! Ooh, maybe a beach? Or the mountains! Or, ooh, how about a floating island? I heard there’s one with the best sunrises!”

“Kalim—” Jamil tried again, but Kalim was on a roll.

“I’ll even help you pack! I can get everything ready! Don’t worry about Scarabia, I’ve got it all covered!” Kalim’s grin widened as he clapped Jamil on the shoulder. “You just focus on relaxing!”

Jamil blinked, looking thoroughly overwhelmed by Kalim’s sudden enthusiasm. “I… don’t know what to say.”

“How about ‘yes’?” you teased, nudging him again. “Come on, Jamil. You deserve this. Let yourself have something nice for once.”

Jamil glanced between you and Kalim, clearly torn. You could see the conflict in his eyes, the part of him that still wanted to cling to his responsibilities, to keep everything in order. But then, slowly, his expression softened. He let out a quiet sigh, rubbing the back of his neck.

“…Fine,” he muttered, his lips curving into a small, tired smile. “But only if you promise we’re not going anywhere too ridiculous.”

Kalim’s eyes lit up, and he practically bounced on the balls of his feet. “Yes! Don’t worry, I’ll find the perfect spot! You’ll love it!”

But before Kalim could dash off in a whirlwind of excitement, there was a sound behind you that made you groan inwardly—Crowley.

The headmaster sauntered into view, his usual over-the-top grandeur evident in every step. “Vacation, you say? Oh, I’m afraid that won’t be possible! You see, I was just about to ask you two for some assistance with a few important matters—”

Before he could finish, Jamil stood up sharply, his expression darkening. For once, it wasn’t the usual calm, collected Jamil standing in front of you. This Jamil was one step away from grabbing Crowley by the collar and shaking him like a rag doll.

“Headmaster,” Jamil began, his voice low and dangerous, “I have been running this dorm, managing everything from meals to paperwork, while studying and handling Kalim’s disasters for months. I have not had a break. I am this close to losing my mind.”

Crowley blinked, clearly taken aback by Jamil’s sudden intensity.

“If you try to take this vacation from me,” Jamil continued, his tone flat but terrifying, “I swear I will not be responsible for what happens next.”

Crowley opened his mouth to protest, but one look at Jamil’s expression—wild-eyed, teetering on the edge—was enough to make him think twice. “Ah, well, I suppose the matters can wait! Yes, yes, of course! You both deserve some time off. Enjoy your… rest.”

Jamil didn’t wait for any further confirmation. He grabbed your hand, pulling you to your feet, and shot Crowley a glare that could have melted steel. “We’re leaving. Now.”

You tried to suppress your laughter as Jamil practically dragged you away, Kalim bouncing along happily beside you.

Once you were a safe distance from the courtyard, Jamil finally slowed down, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. He glanced down at you, his hand still holding yours.

“You really think this is going to work?” he asked, a hint of skepticism in his voice.

You grinned, squeezing his hand gently. “Absolutely. I’ll make sure of it.”

For the first time in what felt like forever, you saw Jamil smile—a real, genuine smile, soft and full of relief. He leaned in closer, his voice low as he whispered, “Thank you. For… everything.”

Your heart fluttered as he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, lingering just a little longer than necessary. “You deserve it,” you whispered back, resting your head on his shoulder. “And I’ll be right there with you the whole time.”

Jamil chuckled softly, wrapping an arm around your waist as you both walked off, Kalim already rambling about potential vacation spots. But for now, you didn’t care where you were going. All that mattered was that it would be the two of you together.

Masterlist

#twst x reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #jamil x reader #jamil x you #jamil viper x you #jamil viper x reader #jamil #jamil viper

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ursineenrichment · 13 days ago

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A 6-Month Old Red Panda, Shot by Joel Sartore for National Geographic's Photo Ark Project, Aiming to Document all Animal Species Living in Captivity Around the World. Photograph - by Joel Sartore, National Geographic Photo Ark

When is a ‘Panda’ Not a Panda - & Are Any Pandas Actually Bears? - by Simon Ingram | The National Geographic - Animals | 11th/03/2022

The Diminutive Red Panda is Now the Star of its Own Film. But What Does it Have in Common With its Bigger Namesake - & are Either of Them Related to Bears? Here we Delve into one of the Most Etymologically Tricky Names in the Animal Kingdom.

Say 'panda' and immediately your mind goes big, fluffy, rare—and monochrome. But the infamously partner-picky, bamboo-chewing giant panda endemic to a sliver of China isn't the only creature to answer to the name.

There are in fact two distinct species that share this iconic title: the giant, and the red panda. But were you presented with a lineup and told to indicate the ‘panda’, one would stick out like a sore, rather red thumb. Despite it actually being the creature most entitled to the name.

Turning Red. Or Black & White?

Firstly, the most obvious difference. At a standing height of five to six feet and a weighing up to 250 pounds (113 kg), the giant panda—and its higher altitude, slightly slighter subspecies the Qinling panda—is roughly comparable to a stocky, weighty human.

The red panda, however, is roughly comparable to a weighty house cat. The giant panda looks like a black bear in a costume; the red panda looks like a racoon that's gone rusty. Complete with a resplendent, ringed tail, cheese-wedge ears and pointed snout, the red panda is thoroughly cute—but in a way that's thoroughly unlike the other creature with which it shares the ‘p’ word. But is it simply a case of lazy name-calling? Not quite.

Turning Red, the new film from Disney-Pixar, follows Mei Lee, a teenager whose developing emotions cause her to transform into a (rather large) red panda. (The Walt Disney Company is majority owner of National Geographic.) Disney-Pixar

Red in tooth and claw

The word ‘panda’ has an ambiguous origin, but one theory is that it is from either the Nepali nigalya ponya (‘bamboo eater’) or paja (‘claw’). One thing is certain, however— it was applied to the red panda first.

The animal was described by French zoologist Frédéric Cuvier in 1825, who added the scientific name Ailurus fulgens, literally, ‘shining cat.’ Not unforgivably, Cuvier judged the red panda as being a particularly anti-social member of the raccoon family.

“The red pandas are solitary and shy animals,” says Ang Phuri Sherpa, Nepal country director for conservation group The Red Panda Network. “They can be found in pairs at the time of their mating, and when cubs are accompanied by a mother.” Ang Phuri says the panda's name could have originated from another Nepali word, punde, which means ‘having white marks on their face,’ adding: “It is true in terms of etymology that red panda is the only ‘true’ panda.”

While pandas both giant and red share a common name, given their obvious physical differences you might expect them to not share a scientific name. Confusingly, they almost do. The giant panda's genus is Ailuropoda—which in this case means ‘cat-foot’, rather than simply ‘cat’.

And it's in the foot that these apparently dissimilar creatures share one of two fascinating common features: the ‘false thumb’, or modified sesamoid digit. These specially evolved front paws, each with an elongated wrist bone, allows the animals to manipulate the principle ingredient of their second common feature: diet. Both animals eat bamboo, and have developed this physical trait geared to gripping those tubular stalks, a phenomenon of adaptation to a shared environment known as convergent evolution.

This dietary quirk & their shared habitat in moist, misty mountainous areas of China certainly gives the 2 pandas something to talk about.

But are they related?

A young Naxi man wears an elaborate hat made of red panda skin, China, 1929. While not nearly as famous as their larger namesakes, red pandas have faced similar threats from habitat loss & hunting for pelts. This use of the resplendent fur is reminiscent of the ‘'coonskin hat’ made famous by American frontiersmen like Daniel Boone & Davy Crockett - underlining the red panda's perceived association with the raccoon. Photograph - by JOSEPH F. ROCK, NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC IMAGE COLLECTION

The fur of the red panda is typically a russett red, with a similar face 'mask' to the raccoon & a facial colouration ranging from pale (typically in the west) to deep red (in the east.)

Photograph by Joel Sartore, National Geographic Photo Ark

Bearing up

The plot thickens when we consider how the giant panda got its name. It was a French missionary and naturalist named Père Armand David who, whilst roaming the Baoxing county in China's Sichuan Province, first brought the animal to western attention—in 1869, when he saw the shot carcass of a 'whitebear', as he called it. “I believe it to be a new species, not only because of its skin color, but also because of the hair beneath its feet and other characteristics,” he wrote in his journal.

To Armand David it certainly resembled a bear, with its bulky, shambling gait and thick fur. The locals called it a panda—it ate bamboo, after all—but Armand David disagreed, classifying it Ursus melanoleucus, or ‘black-white bear’. Excited by his find, he began a correspondence with Alphonse Milne-Edwards, a French zoologist, to whom he sent a pelt and a skull for inspection.

Furry fossils

Milne-Edwards questioned the strange creature's classification, claiming the skull, teeth and claws made it more physiologically aligned with a certain red haired, bamboo-eating member of the raccoon family described 40 years before—though clearly having climbed a good way along its own evolutionary branch. Publishing a description in his Recherches pour servir l’histoire naturelle des mammifčres, Milne-Edwards reclassified it accordingly as Ailuropus melanoleucus to reflect what he saw as at least a dotted line to the red panda.

China's Sichuan province, home of both the giant panda and the red panda. The latter's habitat is wider, stretching from Nepal in the west to China's Yunnan province as well as Sichuan. In 2020 it was found this has enabled two distinct subspecies of red panda to evolve, which diverged around 250,000 years ago—the more vibrant Chinese red panda, and the paler Himalayan red panda. Photograph by Ami Vitale, National Geographic Image Collection

The argument rumbles on. More recently DNA and molecular studies have yielded contradictory results—with some claiming the pandas are in no way related to each other, and others suggesting giant pandas are true bears. Some claim red pandas are actually fancy mustelids—a family that includes weasels, badgers, wolverines, martens and polecats—and that both panda varieties have a streak of raccoon in there somewhere.

What seems unanimous is that neither animal sits contentedly into any group, with both often described as ‘living fossils’—the last of a particularly adventurous evolutionary line.

The red panda today remains in its very own family, Ailuridae. So too the giant panda, which—while firmly now in the family Ursidae (bears)—retains its unique genus of Ailuropoda. Both continue to be argued over, but with the uneasy consensus that both animals and all their speculated relatives likely shared a common, unfathomably ancient and mysterious ancestor. So heated has the subject around both pandas' place in the animal kingdom that it has prompted wider discussions around what features should be considered as taxonomic dealbreakers when classifying an animal.

In his 1993 book on the subject, The Last Panda, naturalist George B. Schaller acknowledged the classification argument with the peerlessly pithy: “When giving a lecture, I am often asked at the end whether the giant panda is a bear or raccoon. To keep my reply brief, I usually answer, ‘The panda is a panda.’”

Relative fame

So were the lines between the species boiled down, you could argue the giant panda is a bear, but not a panda—and the red panda is a panda, but not a bear.

While red pandas are getting a showcase of sorts in the Disney-Pixar movie Turning Red, there's no question the giant panda is the more iconic of the pair—despite the smaller animal facing its own very real challenges. Classified as endangered by the IUCN due to its declining population, the diminutive forest-dweller has suffered many of the same fates as its bigger namesake. “Their biggest threats in the wild are we, the human being,” says Ang Phuri Sherpa. “Their survival in the wild is highly [related to] the human-induced causes like deforestation and degradation of their habitats, poaching, illegal smuggling, and trade of their skin or pelts.” It's thought around 10,000 individuals remain in the wild.

As for the giant panda, following decades of declining populations due to the same habitat loss and poaching, it has become an enduring symbol of the need for wildlife conservation. Now with numbers around 1,900 in the wild and breeding programs worldwide to help assuage an already somewhat tricky procreation process, the giant panda was recently reclassified as vulnerable due to a slowly increasing population. Along the way it's become arguably the world's most recognizable animal - ironic, given its ambiguity within science.

In China, its largely serene countenance and 50/50 color scheme has been likened to the yinyang, the Chinese spiritual symbol denoting balance in opposites. And while the two panda species may seem similarly opposed—like the yin and yang themselves - each clearly has more than a little in common with the other.

Turning Red is streaming on Disney+.

This story was adapted from the National Geographic U.K website.

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moonstruckme · 6 months ago

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MAE BODYGUARD JAMES IS SUCH A GOOD IDEA OML

maybe one where the reader burns herself (totally not projecting) but you did say Halloween stuff so many bodyguard James take reader Halloween costume shopping? I'm thinking she goes in smt skimpy and we get protective jamie?

anyways i hadnt thought any of that out I came running when you said bodyguard so hope that strikes some inspiration and thank you so much!!

Thank you for your request lovely!!

cw: alcohol mention

bodyguard!James x fem!reader ♡ 462 words

“You are not making my job any easier, babe.” James glares at a Jack Sparrow getting too close to you. The guy changes course.

You laugh. “What, I’m keeping things interesting for you! I thought you were getting bored.”

James had said that. You can hunker down better than anyone he knows, even Remus, and he was getting worried about how much time you spent at home. If he knew you to be anything less than the sweetheart you are, he’d almost suspect you made your Halloween plans specifically to force him to eat his words.

The downtown is pandemonium. Colorful costumes and drunken revelers and a cacophony of musics pouring out from different doorways. It’s chaotic enough that James half expects to spot Sirius somewhere in the crowd, dragging a begrudging Remus into a nightclub. People get bolder with masks and booze, and you—whether they know who you are or not—make a perfect target.

You’re dressed like an angel from the devil’s fantasies, white lingerie and lacy thigh-highs and a cute pair of wings strapped to your back. It should take all the virtue out of the look, but there’s still an aura of sweetness about you, captured in the apples of your cheeks and the cute, curious way you look at the scene around you. James calls you angel more often than his supervisor would likely approve of, and tonight everyone can see how well it suits.

“I think there’s probably a middle ground,” says James, taking your elbow to tug you gently away from a clown stumbling into your path, “between spending all day in your room and this.”

You turn towards him. James’ hand moves to the small of your back instinctively, bringing you closer to him and away from the crowd. Your white makeup shimmers, making your eyes look big and sparkly as you gaze up at him.

“We can go home if you want to,” you say in a quiet, private voice. “I don’t want to stress you out.”

James looks at you. Elysian and hopeful, your cheap halo listing to one side. A girl like you deserves to be flirted with. James knows he’s a massive cockblock (and he’s not going to pretend to feel bad about that), but he can follow you wherever you want to go and buy you drinks and turn threatening looks on anyone who comes too close to you if it means you’ll have a good time.

He straightens your halo for you. “Where do you want to go first?”

You beam. “Really?”

“Really.” James gives your shoulder a fond squeeze, and with his other hand halts a cowboy who’s trying to come up to you. The guy holds up his hands, backing off. “But you’ll have to stay close.”

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