#august2020

[jonnysinsectcatalogue]

Red-Belted Bumblebee - Bombus rufocinctus

It was somewhat difficult to choose a “red-colored” insect for showcase given that many of the more prominent insects featuring red bodies have already had a turn in the Valentine’s Day spotlight. As well, there are some insects that would be perfect fit for Valentine’s Day, but I would be repeating pictures that have already been uploaded or have no pictures of my own for said specimen (I can only hope to see the Lovebug (Plecia nearctica - a March Fly) swarms for myself one day). For today, let’s revisit a familiar fuzzy face with an eye-catching sash of red-striping around the abdomen. Like many of our Bumblebee friends, they are a welcome sight during the summer and these pollinating insects (the workers) go from flower to flower daily to gather food for the colony and the queen. Keep an eye out for the red bands, but also keep in mind that there is tremendous variability with the pattern on the abdominal segments between individuals.

Getting back to feeding, since their tongues are short, they’ll need to choose flowers that are shallow and easily accessible. Wide flowers would likely be fine as well, but there’s just so much to choose with smaller flowers such as those from oregano here or another small flower clusters (goldenrod comes to mind). On the other hand, compared to other Bumblebees, the Red-Belted Bumblebees are small so perhaps they could simply crawl into deep flowers to reach the prize inside. Such a strategy may be viable if the flower has enough wiggle room to allow the Bee to leave by walking backwards. There are flowers that employ such a strategy to ensure successful pollination, but I can’t speak on whether or not the Red-Belted Bumblebee participates with those flowers. Since a worker Bee only has a limited carrying capacity within its innards and crop, she has to be very selective with which flowers and how many she visits for maximum yield given her effort. Though tiring, a worker Bee’s job is most important and she (alongside her sisters) ensure a healthy colony when pollen and sweet nectar are brought home. 

Pictures were taken on July 28 and August 20, 2020 with a Google Pixel 4. Have a Happy Valentine’s Day!

[doronjosama]

Caturday Flashback: Jammer and the late great Dito taking over the Stuva desk. (Aug2020). #caturday #caturdayflashback #catsofinstagram #catstagram #catscatscats #august2020 #dito #fritobandito #ditodeets #ripdito #tabbycat #jammer #katzenjammerkid #jammerbammer #mainecoon #americanforestcat #NeuHaus #rescuecats #adoptdontshop #mysons #kittybabies #mytreasures #catmomlife #latergram https://www.instagram.com/p/CpYxlCOLtxW/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[juliasphotoarchives]

7.8.20

[drdadbooks]

Clarity in the Haze U8A1404 by Daniel D'Auria Via Flickr: On a misty morning in Lamar Valley a rising sun casts long shadow demonstrating that the large can seem small, the trivial, grandiose, and a world filled with diversity, unified. The perceptions of an aging man with waning vision or the discerning palette of an experienced artiste? All bull? Certainly! Bull moose!

[renzocerutti-blog]

Smile#2 oil on canvas 90x65cm #art #italy #instagood #oilpainting #blackandwhite #children #august2020 #rasta https://www.instagram.com/p/CDjZJs7jfs-/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[mvillamemoirs]

August 2020 unloading

Monday August 31st, 2020

-Work was okay. Woke up almost late, didn’t have time to make coffee or have breakfast and found myself getting crabby at work. I really need to work with Milenna more about scheduling because not all of us including my Boss gets to take a decent lunch break. Rather than getting irritated with her, I think I’m just going to look at things like a challenge/opportunity to grow somehow out of the situation. 

-Walked my dog, thinking about how irritated I am living in this house. Thinking about my parents divorce and how I need to move out because being here reminds me about him. I feel like i can’t talk to my mom about deeper things. I feel like it doesn’t matter to her.

-The closer it got to bed time, the more I just kept thinking about the next court date. I’m worried, I’m frustrated, I don’t know all the details, I’m all sorts of emotional and aggravated because I have so much to lose. I just want to continue to work, go to school to focus on my career/educational goals, and enjoy time with my friends and family. Since this incident happened, I feel paranoid and I just want to be alone until it’s over. I don’t want my misery spewing over onto other people’s plates. I feel so stressed out.

Sunday, August 30th, 2020

-Worked at Lokahi for a bit. It was very mellow. Both acupuncturists are starting to grow on me. I adore them so much and it’s so fun. Nothing really bothered me that shift, it was easy going.

-Getting home I made myself supper, then ended up going to my cousin Raymonds house for dinner- sashimi, poke and lobster. He’s like my brother and just came to realize how I hardly see him. He asked about my sister, my dad, and I ended up telling him how I’m seeking therapy. Asking about my Dad kind of pulled on some heartstrings because I feel like it’s a sensitive subject that of course I wouldn’t know where he’s currently at. . That dude abandoned us or whatever. It also was an ‘eye-rolling’ moment asking about my younger sister because she’s really out just doing whatever with her boyfriend, and has her hands tied with that. I find myself not responding to the subject of my dad’s whereabouts less emotionally, which I think is a good thing because it’s like I’m accepting of the fact that my parents are divorce. I still have some resentment and anger towards him just because of the entire situation, but more accepting of the fact in general.

--We were also talking about Hawaii, how this is all of our first time not going back to visit- normally we all go once a year. I really miss my grandma, cousins and older sister. COVID sucks.

Saturday, August 29th, 2020

-Came to my weekend job, was very productive and called it a day 3-4 hours here since i’m basically working nonstop until Labor Day where I’ll be off. I figured if I have the energy to, especially before Fall semester starts, why not, right? 

-One of the acupuncturists came back and it’s so weird because we just don’t click, just co-exist. She caught me up to speed that she was safe and didn’t have to evacuate at her parent’s place in Santa Cruz. It’s strictly just business with her, Holly. I love how that business is woman-owned and I always get a sense of uplifting each other and overall women empowerment. The patients are just as delightful as the staff.

-Hung out with Danny at his place at nighttime. All we did was watch The Flash on Netflix, took 3 shots of vodka straight-yuck. Just simply hung out since we couldn’t go out anywhere as bars and restaurants were closing at 11pm. Hanging with him just made me realize that we cannot talk about serious things like what was the downfall of our relationships. We cant talk about our feelings, I don’t think I was even comfortable telling him I was seeing a therapist nor what happened at the arraignment. . I really just had the vibe that it’s not his business, and there’s no point in sharing deeper things like that with him when it’s not going to change anything. Maybe we’re just better off friends, but I just kept remembering that night of getting arrested that Danny was like my safe zone/ protector, and I looked to him in more ways than just being a significant other. It amazes me how we go to all of that, to just this current situation of being friends or whatever it is. I guess in the end all you have is yourself.

Friday, August 28th, 2020

-Went into work getting lectured at by the other chiropractor’s wife about separation of patients because that’s how the chiropractor I worked for wants to do it. I felt embarrassed getting grilled first thing in the morning in front of patients, and I need to have a sit down with my boss regarding that issue as he’s the only one who wants to continue the practice like that despite sharing the building overall. I think it doesn’t align with the philosophy of wanting to treat the community and get people better

--Felt much better when I told Camille how she made me feel and she apologized for being insensitive. Still uneasy overall about the conflict. By the end of the day I didn’t get to talk to my boss because he was rushing out to get to his dinner date. It’s so annoying that he wants to start and wrap up meetings when it’s convenient for him versus a general daily thing.

-Went home feeling empty and numb. It was a good work day overall but I feel so lost sometimes. School is starting, not sure how to go about with my break up when the guy wants to hang out, trying to date but that’s a bit stagnant due to covid, I just feel uneasy overall. I miss my family in Hawaii, I would’ve been there and back by now. I miss my friends from the east coast. I’m feeling clusters of emotions with where i’m at, and just exhausted mentally, emotionally and physically. This whole court date thing in November is eating at me, too. I feel irritated. I did a whole ‘treat yourself’ meal and had pizza for dinner and called it a night with netflix. 

--I’m trying to slow down my pace and enjoy time to myself like i did before.

Thursday, August 27th, 2020 -Work was very slow paced, and my boss assigned me to work the front desk so Milenna can practice at the back office duties. I felt so fatigue and physically and mentally drained today-coffee didn’t help.

-At the very end of seeing patients, I talked with my boss about wanting more benefits as I enter the 3rd year, offered me a sign on bonus as I’m worthy in his business, but still want to revisit overall. I ended up telling him I was seeking therapy, and he asked if I talked to one of his bestfriends that comes into the office for treatment. I guess she commented some time ago that if I need someone to talk to, she’ll do it- but I told him it's a conflict of interest for me because I don’t like to shit where I eat. I wonder what it was about me that gave off that impression at that time-i don’t know, maybe deep in thought as the arrest was recent.. Again, not sure.

--On the ride home, I was just thinking how sad I really am inside-it’s hard to think about the lawyer method, because I feel like to contradict negative thoughts- I was thinking about my parent’s divorce and cried a bit on the way home- would be a positive thing about myself regardless being sad (?), and I think there’s no relation. . I need to practice more.

---I also started to think about my grandpa and how I miss him so much. He passed away in 2014 and that’s when I started to smoke tobacco as a coping mechanism and destress. It made me realize how my birthday is coming up soon, and I wanted to quit by then. Time to start cracking down on myself and look at my triggers/habits when I feel like smoking stoges.

Wednesday, August 26th, 2020

-Very productive and high energy at work. Vibed with everyone-including co-workers. Today was also my review with my boss-I’ve been there for 2 years now. Very interesting how my boss keeps giving me more duties to do, but I feel like I’m in the crosshairs of “I should be lucky I have a job” and knowing my worth as I do know the office operations like the back of my hand. It’s a good deal regardless, but didn’t want to sign right away.

-I feel more accepting and less anxious about the next court date. I have to keep faith in my attorney.

-Danny called me by bedtime needing help to change his flat tire at work. I ended up going for a number of reasons: empathy, it took him a lot to ask me knowing that our last conversation was about being friends when I still want to work things out, maybe this could’ve been an opportunity to tell him what’s going on with me and I’m in a funk. . It ended up being a very mellow encounter where I was just watching him change his tire and having his subwoofer stashed in my car. I like to see my kindness not being a weakness, just my nature.

Tuesday, August 25th, 2020

-Woke up this morning wanting to stay in my bed a bit longer. Woke up feeling Zen and more relaxed- not as anxious about the court date today because I put trust in this attorney for things to work out in my favor. Trying to control my outlook and keep vibrating higher with better intentions. Took my dog out for a walk and thought back about my oracle cards last night, and contemplated ‘‘healing”. Thought about self love, and mentally told myself that I loved myself which for the first time it hit some strings internally and I just realized I haven’t said that to myself in sooooooo long. The more I kept repeating that to myself, the more I just felt those words losing meaning, i don’t know.

-Went to pick up a loaner laptop from SJCC as mine has become unreliable for this upcoming semester. Feeling productive.

Monday, August 24th, 2020

-Work was overall good. Not sure what it is with Milenna, but her presence just tends to irritate me occasionally. Maybe it’s because she’s slow paced and sometimes drags my energy down, or she doesn’t do some of her work (?), but when I start to get this way, I go elsewhere to help my boss with patients to keep my energy flowing. Just that quick second of irritation didn’t affect my work day, though. It was a lot of laughs and connecting with patients and catching up. I’d say it was a good day at work overall.

-Coming home felt really uneasy knowing that my court date is less than 24 hours away. I feel aggravated and anxious and very impatient. I want it to get dismissed, I want all that to go away. Maybe I need to declutter my room to get a sense of clarity and peace. After walking my dog I lit up an incense and reorganized my closet and walking space to get rid of extra objects that don’t serve purpose, or that’s just taking up space. Might reorganize my shelves eventually.

-I did an oracle spread for the 2020 year. It’s crazy how it highlights healing and this is the year for that. I took it as a sign to work on myself since I’ve been feeling on the go and wanting to go out and not having any ‘me’ time. Adventure is the fruit of the looms of self-healing, abundance is what challenge will arise, I can thrive through the year with focusing, and flow is what I’ll gain throughout 2020. 

Sunday, August 23rd, 2020

-Helping out at Lokahi felt very refreshing today as it did yesterday. Talking with one of the acupuncturists and sharing my educational goals reassured me that I’m on the right track. She was also a certified massage therapist while practicing in behavioral health and gave me lots of insight. I told her I wanted to pursue CMT while retaking health science courses as I’d have a full year before reapplying to the PTA program at Ohlone CC next year-I’m thinking this will strengthen my knowledge and skills regarding the human body. She cheered me on and told me she personally can see me succeeding on that educational route!

-Went to go see Stephanie after work today. The smoke and the air quality fucking sucks, can’t even see the ESSJ hills. It was mellow, reassuring her that I’m happy with whatever she chooses to do with Jerome because he’s a cool dude despite me and him having a fall out. I feel lightweight ‘meh’ about it. Not bothered, but just want to make sure she feels the same way. 

-Hung out at Steven’s pad for the first time. Met him from Tinder, started talking and it’s so easy to converse with him. I like keeping my word with things I say that I’m going to do, so that took him by surprise when I actually dropped by tonight. His vibe is cool.

-This arraignment date simmering in the back of my mind is keeping my anxiety afloat. It’s hard to think forward when I feel like a lot weighs on this outcome. Drank hibiscus tea to relax before bed.

Saturday, August 22nd, 2020

-I feel like the universe is fucking with me. A lot of old ghosts-from-the-past are popping up- ie Jerome, Greg and Danny. Like is this a test? Like at the end of the day I just want everyone to be happy- I want everyone to win. I feel weird and uneasy about it, calling Kenn and telling him details about it, maybe I’m getting my period soon.

-Talked to my sister in HI a little bit and was contemplating about telling her about the arrest and arraignment date. Everytime I think about the court date, I hear Theo’s advice that I shouldn’t worry about anything, “it’s just a ticket that you can fight or get dropped” or something like that. SIGHH….

Friday, August 21st, 2020

-I thought today was a very good day at work! My energy was up there, got in about 57 patients in from originally 40 patients. Milenna wasn’t in which made me feel like ‘deer in headlights’ having to be doing the front desk work. Caught up on billing, very productive overall while having fun with patients.

-Best friend Stephanie, told me how someone at her parent’s Subway tested positive for COVID and that I won’t be able to come to the house for a while. That blows, but also having thoughts if this is her way of getting space to date Jerome- whatever. As long as she’s happy that’s all that matters. She’s going to get tested this weekend, so hope it comes out negative so we can hang.

-Surprise, surprise. . Danny hits me up to hang out tonight, then changes his mind in 20minutes as I was cleaning. At first I was calm about hanving out with him, but now I’m like what the fuck. I’m irritated with the whole Danny issue- states that we shouldn’t hang out last minute because we’re not friends yet (?!). I feel like he should’ve just left me the fuck alone instead of dangling with my feelings.

-Getting super anxious again realizing how close my arraignment date is.

Thursday, August 20th, 2020

-I feel unproductive at work since it’s very slow patient flow. I can’t focus. I feel like the day is dreading.

-I feel bad for my cousin’s fiance as she’s putting her dog down tomorrow. I’m more than sad for her and it just reminds me that I’m not ready if my dog were to pass away. Makes me appreciate my dog, Nala, more.

-Talked to Zarinah just now. Even though she moved back to New Jersey I love how we randomly check in on each other. She caught me up to speed with what her and her other friends are doing, her son’s situation- I would’ve been there this year by now if COVID didn’t exist. I told her about my 4th of July weekend, the getting arrested ordeal, Jerome talking to stephanie. I miss her a lot!!

Wednesday, August 19th, 2020

-Woke up to my car covered in ashes. This weather is making me feel depressed, aggravated, super concerned for those that are impacted by it. Hope my coworker Blanca is okay.

-On the drive home after work I kept thinking about my ex boyfriend. I feel more mad and upset rather than sad at the moment. I miss him, I feel low. . but ‘I deserve the kind of love I desire’, no? I should just cut ties and block him everywhere. 

Tuesday, August 18th, 2020

-Forgot I was having brunch with Anthony today. Talked to my PCP about my physical and mental health. Told him I was seeking outpatient care because of how slow inpatient services were for behavioral/psychiatric therapy. I felt he disregarded that and was highlighting me to take smoking cessation classes, when I am a conscious change and have begun smoking less tobacco daily. I don’t know why he’s pushing extra hard with taking these classes when I’ve weaned myself off smoking before. But anyway, just got ready last minute to meet up with Anthony for brunch versus flaking on plans for whatever reason (had the just do it attitude).

-Didn’t realize I set another therapy appointment in person with another LMFT today. The first encounter I didn’t know what to expect and got lost just getting to know each other. Went an hour and 20 minutes or so, and I just felt like I was introducing myself to her, spewing more details than anything. She commented she’s aware of my anxiety and can see how mildly depressed I am, but I didn’t really feel it was effective versus yesterday’s session. She mentioned she doesn’t think her methods are safe for me in the state of being that I’m in. Took the depression questionnaire home, but I don’t think I want to go back. She did mention eye-movement method (?), color schemes and blot pictures (?), reprocessing information methods (?). Not sure but I feel like i didn’t get anything out of that session than just highlighting how sad I freaking am.

-Told Anthony via text that I don’t see anything romantic between us. I didn’t feel like pursuing him in that way and see us being only friends. I felt that’s a respectful way to let him know versus him feeling like I'm leading him on, and he just went on mute and became unresponsive. I feel like I would appreciate someone telling me that straight up from the start, but whatever. I feel a bit irritated by it, but I can’t control other people’s emotions.

Monday, August 17th, 2020

-First therapy meeting went well. Broke down and cried a lot, felt vulnerable, never realized how much sadness I had inside. I did feel a light feeling of relief at the end of it. Looking for the next session, while reminding myself ‘it’s okay to feel what i’m feeling”.

-I have such strong adoration for my mom and how strong of an individual and woman she is. I feel very spiteful towards my dad for emotionally and financially degrading my mom through the divorce process (fighting over money, the house). It’s so weird how my mom doesn’t want me to think any less of my dad because ‘he’s my dad’ and I feel it takes more than making a child to be labeled as a father than providing sperm, right? I feel irritated when it comes to telling me how to feel about whatever the situation, because my feelings are valid, too. I don’t want their failed marriage to influence my love life. 

-I talked to my bestfriend kenn while walking my dog. He makes me feel calm. Told him about my first therapy session, he highlighted the importance of feeling safe and open with a therapist and finding one that clicks- which I agree and feel like I did. Caught him up about Danny, anxiety with school, and how work eased up with my coworker, Milenna. She used to irritate me a lot, but now it’s water under the bridge. Health is an investment.

[thestylesindependent]

via tinniewinniie on TikTok

[sergei-gussev]

#rohuneeme #poolsaar #viimsi #harjumaa #eesti #august2020 (at Rohuneeme Poolsaar) https://www.instagram.com/p/CT9snUGowpv/?utm_medium=tumblr

[iam93percentstardust]

AU-gust Day 24: Private Detective

Requested by anon for a Winteriron AU!

Also on ao3 here

~

Bucky actually despises taking the cheating spouse jobs. He hates that people are so desperate for proof that their spouse is cheating on them so they could get out of their prenup—because it’s always someone rich enough to need a prenup—and he hates that there’s no trust in relationships anymore and he hates the way the people who ask him to do jobs like this always look down on him.

But money is money and Bucky doesn’t have a lot of it so he always takes the job because bills don’t care about your moral standards.

Doesn’t mean he has to be happy about it though.

And he’s not. He always calls Nat or Stevie during the long vigils so he can complain about these stupid jobs and how ridiculous they are and did you know that not only is Senator Johnson cheating but he’s cheating with one of the male interns working on his reelection campaign and that’s just gross and a massive abuse of power. And Nat or Steve always act like they’d be patting his hand if they were there with him. Nat always reminds him that these jobs are worth it so he can take the jobs that actually mean something and Stevie always spends a few minutes ranting about the state of political corruption in this country and how it’s going to hell in a handbasket. Bucky likes those rants. They make him feel better.

Problem is, this latest cheating spouse case? He’s pretty sure it’s not a cheating spouse.

Tiberius Stone, CEO of Viastone, has been married to his spouse for the last five years and recently set his eye on a pretty young socialite who aspires to be an actress, go figure. So now, of course, he wants out of his marriage but the problem is that his spouse, one Anthony Stark, is a ruthless son of a bitch who managed to trick Stone into a prenup that’ll wipe him of all he’s worth if Stone breaks off the marriage for anything less than infidelity.

Bucky got a look at the prenup when he was doing research for this case. The thing is vicious and blatant enough that when he’d read through it, he had kind of wondered if Anthony Stark—with his pretty doe eyes and wicked smile—had been sucking Stone’s cock when he got him to sign.

Fortunately for Stone, Anthony Stark has been mysteriously leaving the house late at night and early in the morning and shaking off every other tail that Stone has put on him, hence the private detective.

Bucky prides himself on being the best private detective in the entire state of New York (with the exception of Miss Jones, who somehow manages to be twice as good as him while permanently drunk) so it’s easy peasy for him to stake out the mansion for a few days before he spots Stark leaving the house one early morning with an oversized suitcase and a squirrely look about him before getting in his car and backing down the driveway.

He grins to himself and settles back to wait. He doesn’t need to do what other PI’s do and follow the guy at a respectable distance because he’s got something better: a tracker, stolen from his time with the army and discretely placed on the underside of Stark’s car.

Except Stark gets halfway down the driveway and then stops, gets out of the car, kneels down, and fishes around underneath the car until he finds what looks like Bucky’s tracker. He flips it over, pulls a tiny screwdriver out of his pocket and fiddles with it for a moment before sticking it back on the car.

That’s…weird.

Bucky watches him pull out of the driveway and drive off and then checks the GPS on his phone to see where the tracker is going. And that’s when he realizes that Anthony Stark is going in the opposite direction that the tracker is claiming.

“Fuck!” he exclaims, scrambling for his car.

He’s certain that Stark must know he’s behind him if he’s beaten every other PI Stone has sent after him. But Stark doesn’t bother backtracking or trying to lose him or any of the other tricks he’s seen employed by people who think they’re following. No, he just drives right into the heart of the city and pulls up to…the VA hospital.

What?

Bucky grabs his binoculars, adjusting them just in time to see Stark stop at the front entrance and a couple nurses come out to greet him as he gets out of the car. He switches the audio part of the tracker on, wondering if Stark hadn’t managed to turn that off at least.

“—if you need help with installation,” Stark says, rounding the corner to the trunk. He pops it open and unzips the suitcase, emerging with a handful of—are those arms? And what looks like a leg and—

“Holy shit, you sick bastard, he’s not cheating on you at all,” Bucky mutters. And he’d be willing to bet that Stone knows it too cause this? This isn’t really the kind of thing you can hide. This is the kind of personality that seeps out in other ways no matter how much Stark might try to act like an asshole.

“I’ll be back tomorrow evening with another batch,” Stark finishes as he hands off the last of the prosthetics to the nurses.

“Thank you, Mr. Stark,” one of the nurses says fervently.

“Don’t mention it,” Stark says causally. “Seriously, don’t.”

He watches them go and then sets off across the parking lot—right toward Bucky’s car. Aw fuck, he knew he shouldn’t have just followed him but Stark discovering his bug had really thrown him off. For a brief moment, he entertains the thought of just leaving but he’s pretty sure that would create more problems than it solves.

Stark smiles sweetly and taps on his window. Bucky rolls it down and waits for the riot act.

But when it comes, all Stark says is, “If Ty wants a divorce, he can have the balls to tell me himself.” Then he glances at Bucky’s empty left sleeve—his main souvenir from the army—and adds, “I can help with that, if you want.”

Then he walks—no, that’s a fucking sashay—back to his car, gets in, and drives off.

And Bucky drags his gaze away from Stark’s ass, sinks lower in his seat, and mutters, “I’m fucked, aren’t I?”

[aurumacadicus]

AUgust 4/31--Angels & Demons AU

I’ve been sleeping on the ship of Bucky/Sam/Tony and here I am correcting that misstep. Watch out for under the cut!

--

“So you’re finding out who your new heavenly partner is today, right?” Bucky asked, not looking up from his bowl of cereal.

Sam stabbed at his bagel, scowling. “Yeah.” Ever since Steve had transferred out of Shouldering, he’d been put on leave until he could be paired with a new angel.

It had been annoying, watching Bucky go off to work, so he was glad he was coming off leave. He hated having nothing to do, and he especially hated that there was nothing he could do to speed up the process. He didn’t begrudge Steve his promotion—he had wanted to go into being a Guardian for centuries, after all—but he hated that he’d have to get used to another person. He’d had Riley as a partner first, and they’d gotten along splendidly, but one day he’d disappeared, and Heaven was tight-lipped about those kinds of things, but even he could tell that something bad had happened. He wished he’d gotten a chance to say goodbye.

After Riley, he’d been assigned to work with Steve. They’d butted heads a few times in the beginning, but once they’d gotten past the typical Heaven and Hell politics, they’d become fast friends. And Steve had always talked about becoming a Guardian angel, had wanted it with every ounce of his being, so he hadn’t been surprised that Steve had eventually gotten the promotion. Sam was happy for him, honestly, because he’d gotten to know Steve really well, and he deserved it! He’d make a good Guardian. And Steve had said he’d put in a good word to make sure he was partnered well.

He just… wasn’t in the mood to learn how to work with someone new when his two previous partners had been so good, as petty as it was.

“Being a house-husband is still an option,” Bucky said after a moment, and it made Sam realize he’d totally mutilated his bagel.

Sam sighed, scowling down at his plate. Maybe, if he didn’t hit it off with his new partner, he’d take Bucky up on it.

.-.-.-.

His new partner was wearing a suit.

“Ah, uh, interim partner,” the angel said, frowning at him.

“Steve never wore a suit,” Sam said, and he couldn’t help the fact that it came out as somewhat accusing. He felt like he couldn’t be faulted for it, though, because the suit was… it was doing wonderful things for the angel’s body, especially the way the slacks cupped his—

The angel, who had previously introduced himself as Tony, immediately looked sour-faced. “Steve never sat still long enough for one.”

Sam opened his mouth, then closed it again. Yeah, that sounded like Steve, actually. “Oh.”

“And I’m just your interim partner,” Tony continued, a tablet appearing out of thin air that he immediately began scrolling on. “Steve put in several names as possible partners for you. The problem is, all of them want to advance in their careers, too, and as you’ve shown no desire to move on yourself, we want to find a partner who will stay with you.”

“So you assigned me an interim partner to leave me,” Sam deadpanned.

Tony looked up at him in surprise, then let out a somewhat self-deprecating laugh. “Oh, don’t be fooled. I haven’t Shouldered in millennia, and I’m hard to get along with besides, so you’ll be ecstatic to get rid of me by the time we’ve found a suitable partner.”

Sam shrugged, noncommittal. He’d heard about pairings that bickered so much that their human charges mostly ignored them, but he was more of the ‘sit down and talk it out’ type. Other demons told him that that wasn’t particularly normal for their kind, but Sam chalked it up to being another reason why he was not eaten by a more powerful demon in his adolescence. Some older demons just wanted to vent! Who knew! Sam did, and no one took him seriously about it.

“Also since I’m basically banned from interacting with humans, we’re not really going to be Shouldering anyway,” Tony continued, finally looking up from his tablet. “We’re just going to be assessing first-time Shoulderers. You’ve been doing this for centuries and you come highly recommended, so I figured you’d be okay with that?”

Sam frowned, crossing his arms as he considered the proposal. On one hand, he liked more hands-on work; he enjoyed actually helping humans. On the other hand, it might help him in his own work to see how other demons and angels worked together.

“You can definitely make fun of the other Shoulderers when we’re on break,” Tony added.

“Yes!” Sam exclaimed, pumping his fist, and then was nearly bowled over by Tony’s shy smile, as if pleased to have made him happy. “I mean. That sounds great, Tony, thank you,” he said, trying to be professional.

Tony shrugged, still smiling. “It’s nice to know that you enjoy your job,” he said honestly. “Anyway! I have to go give my replacement some information that I forgot when I left, so we’ll start tomorrow? I’ll send you some files about who we’ll be shadowing.”

“Sounds good,” Sam replied, reaching out to shake his hand. “Nice meeting you. I hope we work well together.”

“Well, I’ll certainly try to make it bearable,” Tony answered, amused, and then disappeared in a pleasant little ‘pop!’ like a soap bubble.

.-.-.-.

Bucky, of course, asked the important questions as soon as he got home. “Is he hot?”

“Yes,” Sam replied. “And he was wearing a suit.”

“Steve never wore a suit!” Bucky exclaimed, offended. “And with proportions like that, he would have killed people he was so hot.”

Sam threw his hands up. “Right?!”

“I’m gonna kick his ass the next time I see him,” Bucky muttered.

Sam paused, then let his arms drop to his sides as he said, “Bucky, you can’t beat up everyone you find attractive.”

“Watch me,” the brunet replied.

Sam stared at him with all the disappointment he could muster before finally saying, “He’s small. He’s like, eight inches shorter than Steve.”

Bucky turned in his seat to give him his full attention, eyebrows raising in surprise. “Tiny and in a suit? Why. What does Heaven have against you.”

“Why do you think Heaven has something against me?” Sam asked, brows furrowing together in confusion.

“I mean, you cry over tuxedo kittens a lot,” Bucky reasoned.

“Only when I’m drunk,” Sam argued immediately.

Bucky rolled his eyes, turning back to the table to begin scribbling in his daily report again. “If you say so.”

“Anyway, he’s only an interim partner until they find someone suitable for me,” Sam explained, sitting down across from him. He pulled out his tablet and opened his email to find the files that Tony had sent over. “So I won’t actually have a human to Shoulder for until they find a permanent one. We’re just gonna be acting as auditors, I guess.”

“That’s not bad,” Bucky said thoughtfully. “Is it confidential? Or can you come home and tell me funny shit that’s happened?”

“I mean, I’m sure I can at least fudge enough details for plausible deniability,” Sam mused. “Besides, angels are insatiable gossips, so it would get out eventually anyway. Oh! And his butt looks like a peach.” Then he smiled smugly as Bucky spewed his coffee all over his paperwork and shouted at him because he had to redo all of it.

Bucky was always really nice to him in apology for yelling. Really nice.

.-.-.-.

Working with Tony was a delight.

He was clearly good at his job, whatever it was, because he always made pithy comments and cracked jokes while they were auditing how other angels and demons Shouldered, but his official write-ups were clear, concise, and factual—Sam knew this, because apparently they had to sign off on each other’s reports to make sure they agreed with each other about how the job had gone. Sam had no idea why Tony thought he’d get tired of working with him, because even when they were silent, bent over taking their notes, Tony was good company, a long line of heat from knee to hip, because they had to be close if they wanted to compare their observations.

And the suit. Oh, the suit.

Tony still showed up in a perfectly fitted suit, and looked just as handsome as the first day, but as he grew more comfortable with Sam, he started taking pieces of it off. Sam actually whimpered when Tony unbuttoned and took off his suit jacket, vest snug around his trim waist. Then Tony started unbuttoning and rolling up his sleeves, which made the selfish part of Sam’s heart hiss when he noticed the angel and demon they were auditing had looked at his arms as well. One time, Tony even picked the laces on his loafers undone and kicked his shoes off. Fuck. Bucky loved the vulnerability of socked or bare feet. Tony was checking all of their boxes in a bed-mate.

“Do you want to come to my place for dinner?” Sam blurted out at the end of one of their auditing assignments. “Bucky wants to cook for you.”

“Oh!” Tony said, surprised, but then he was frowning, shoulders beginning to hunch up. “Um… I don’t… usually eat?”

“You don’t eat?” Sam repeated, bewildered, then paused, suddenly remembering all the times he, Bucky, and Steve had gone to the bar together and Steve had indulged in a heavenly mead but had never picked at the bowls of nuts or ordered a meal like they had. “Huh,” he said, surprised.

“But I can eat!” Tony added hurriedly. “I just usually don’t because we don’t actually need to. But I can! Um, but I don’t like meat.”

Sam frowned in concern. “I don’t want you to put yourself out, Tony.”

“It’s not, I just—I forget, sometimes. That demons like to eat,” Tony admitted shyly, looking down at his feet and shuffling in place awkwardly. “I don’t really have a lot of friends. Only a couple of ‘em are demons, so it never occurs to me that you guys eat sometimes.”

“That’s adorable,” Sam told him seriously. “Is tofu okay?”

Tony looked up at him, blinking. “I can’t say I’ve had it, but as long as it’s not meat, I’ll try anything.”

“Tony, I just need you to know that Bucky will be absolutely disgusted that I’m making him prepare tofu, and telling him so will be the highlight of my day,” Sam said.

Tony opened his mouth, then closed it again. He looked vaguely concerned, but also a bit leery, like he didn’t know if it would be demonophobic to say anything about it. Sam did not tell him that almost every demon enjoyed making angels wonder this. “Okay,” he finally said, frowning.

“Great! I’ll text you about a half an hour before it’s ready? Will that work?” Sam asked.

“Sure,” Tony answered, nodding. “That’s good. Do I need to bring anything?”

“Just yourself and a smile,” Sam told him cheerfully.

Tony laughed, teasing, “Sounds like you want me to show up naked!”

Sam would absolutely love it if Tony showed up naked, and Bucky definitely wouldn’t complain, but he figured that might be coming on too strong. Instead, he said, “Bucky is very interested in seeing you in a suit. He doesn’t believe angels wear them.”

Tony blinked at him, then scowled, mulishly muttering, “I’m gonna kick Steve’s ass.”

“I know that feeling,” Sam assured him, and Tony’s lips quirked up into a smile again.

.-.-.-.

“S. Small,” Bucky said after Sam had shown Tony into their apartment.

Tony whipped around to glare at him, then paused awkwardly when he realized that Bucky easily had six inches on him and was built like a brickhouse. “…Big?” he answered nervously.

Bucky frowned at him and told him, very seriously, “You are small and pretty like a songbird.”

“I, uh,” Tony sputtered, eyes wide with shock. “Thank you?”

“I have cute aggression,” Bucky added, and then visibly forced himself to return to the kitchen. “Give me a minute. Fucking brimstone and bats you’re so pretty.”

Tony stared after him, unsure whether to be terrified or not, then looked up at Sam in concern. “Um?”

“He’s not usually this much of an instinctive garbage can,” Sam assured him. “I tried to warn him that you were attractive, but I guess I didn’t do you justice.”

“Rude. I’m fucking ethereal in my beauty,” Tony answered, more on instinct than anything else. Then he tilted his head in confusion. “Wait. Didn’t you say Bucky was your husband?”

Sam raised his eyebrows. “Yeah, but like… I’ve got eyes.”

“What,” Tony said, and probably would have continued, except Bucky came stomping back out of the kitchen to approach him directly. “Uh.”

“Does your ass really look like a peach?” Bucky asked sternly.

Tony reached back to grab his butt, frowning up at him and brows furrowing together in concern. “Yes? I’ve been told? Eep,” he added when Bucky lifted his hands to cup his cheeks and pull him closer.

“I wanna eat it like one,” Bucky growled.

“Eep,” Tony squeaked again.

Bucky glared down into his eyes a moment longer before he let him go and turned to stomp back into the kitchen. “But after dinner. I made tofu edible and you’re gonna eat it.”

Tony gaped after him in a mixture of terror and confusion, still clutching his ass.

“Why don’t you have a seat,” Sam suggested, gently placing a hand between Tony’s wings and urging him toward the table.

“Your husband just said he wanted to eat my ass in front of you and you’re telling me to take a seat?!” Tony spluttered, but still allowed himself to be eased into one of the chairs.

Sam smiled a little. “Well, I mean. I’m kind of hoping that you’ll let me suck your dick while you ride his face, so it would be kind of hypocritical of me to be angry.” He hooked his hand under Tony’s arm so that he didn’t miss the chair as he yelped in surprise. “But if you’re not interested, we can just have a lovely dinner, and I won’t be offended if you don’t want to work with me anymore.”

Tony stared up at him, wide-eyed and silent.

Sam patted him on the shoulder and then began shuffling things around on the table so that it could fit all of the dishes Bucky was bringing out, unconcerned about the lack of answer. Tony had never been speechless before, but he figured that this time definitely warranted it, and he was honestly kind of looking forward to hearing how Tony would react.

Tony had actually had three bites of the stir-fry Bucky had made before he burst out, “What if I don’t even like having sex with male-presenting beings?”

“Then I will cry,” Bucky answered.

“He won’t,” Sam said hastily when Tony stared at him in affront. “Well, I mean, he’s an ass man so he might actually cry a little, but not to guilt you or anything.”

“Well,” Tony said mulishly. “I suppose my ass is a treasure.”

Bucky held his hands up. “Just wanna cup each cheek and bury my face in ‘em.”

Tony gaped at him, still looking a little offended. That was normal, though—most people were put off by how earnest Bucky was about eating ass. Luckily, Sam was all for it, so it had never been a problem for them.

“Anyway, if you’re not down to fuck, we can just be friends,” Bucky added with a shrug. “We did it with Stevie. Although that asshole did yell at me for being forward when all I did was say I could bounce a quarter off his ass.”

“He yelled at you for actually bouncing a quarter off his ass,” Sam corrected. “I think he was embarrassed that it bounced so far though.” He looked back at Tony with a shrug. “But no pressure. I like you as a friend and Bucky always likes feeding people so if you don’t want to do anything sexual, that’s fine.”

Tony ate some more stir-fry, then set his fork down. “I don’t really do… casual sex anymore. I am… Old.”

Sam and Bucky blinked at him in surprise. “How old are you?” Sam asked.

“I am Old with a capital ‘O,’” Tony corrected, and he looked pleased when they blanched.

“If you’re one of the angel elders why the fuck are you working with me I’m a baby compared to you,” Sam sputtered.

Tony immediately frowned at him again. “I told you. We wanted to find someone who was in Shouldering for the long haul. It’s why we can only audit other pairs—I’m too powerful for most humans to behold.”

“Can you really turn into a flaming ball of eyes?!” Bucky asked excitedly.

Tony’s frown deepened into a scowl. “Why?”

Bucky gave him his best bitch face. “Because that’s sexy, Tony, obviously.”

“I don’t have an ass to eat when I’m a flaming ball of eyes,” Tony told him, and then threw his hands up in despair when this only seemed to give him a moment of pause. “I don’t like being a flaming ball of eyes. It scares people and I don’t know how you think it can be sexy when my being can only be pierced by a more powerful angel or a devil’s horn, and that’s not exactly pleasurable, if you know what I mean.”

They didn’t, but they also didn’t tell him so, because telling Tony they had never flirted with someone Old seemed like a bad idea when they still very much wanted to pinion him to their bed for the rest of eternity.

“We don’t really do casual,” Sam cut in before Bucky blurted out that he’d figure out a way to make piercing him with his horns pleasurable or die trying, because he knew Bucky would, if given the chance. “Bucky’s got a possessive streak, so we’d definitely want to be exclusive.”

Tony stared at them for a very long time, thoughtful, before he frowned in confusion and asked, “He’s possessive and has terrifying cute aggression? Who hates him,” and Bucky snorted his wine out his nose.

.-.-.-.

In the end, Tony had to turn them down, but only because he felt weird dating them while also technically acting as Sam’s superior. Made him feel like he was taking advantage somehow, he’d said.

So the minute Sam got paired with a new angel for Shouldering and waved Tony goodbye, he texted Bucky, and they were both waiting at Tony’s door by the time he got back from his office.

“You’re not wearing a suit,” Bucky said accusingly. “You’re even cuter now. I can’t handle this.”

Tony, clad in a well-worn pair of jeans and a human band t-shirt, blinked at him in complete bewilderment. “What?”

“Dressed down is good on you,” Sam explained, elbowing Bucky in the ribs. “I miss the vest a little, but you look slightly more approachable now. Less like I’ll be smote if I touch you.”

“Why would you be smote,” Tony asked him, still very obviously confused.

“…Don’t you smite people who touch you without permission?” Bucky asked, which was answer enough.

“WHY DO YOU THINK I WOULD SMITE SOMEONE FOR SOMETHING AS STUPID AS THAT WHEN THIS ISN’T EVEN MY TRUE FORM,” Tony bellowed, wings flying up in a threat display, but Bucky didn’t look perturbed by it, instead leaning around so he could get a better view of Tony’s ass in those jeans. Tony snapped his wings at them. “Don’t ogle me when I’m yelling at you!”

Bucky held his hands up placatingly. “Alright.”

“So now that we’re not working together, how about we go on a date?” Sam added, before Tony could continue to scold either of them.

Tony’s wings fell as he blinked up at them in surprise. “Huh?”

“You, us. A date. Show you we want commitment,” Sam explained. “We thought maybe you’d like to take a swing around the edge of the solar system and then maybe we could come back to one of ours for a snack? You don’t have to eat the snack of course, but Bucky and I enjoy eating.”

“…Well, I do like seeing Pluto…” Tony mumbled shyly, peering up at them from under his lashes. “I guess that would be alright. Yeah, that sounds nice! What are you guys going to have for a snack? If it’s not meat, maybe I’ll try it too!”

Bucky opened his mouth, but Sam hurriedly slapped him with his own velvety bat-wing, sending the other demon skidding across the clouds with an offended squawk. “Bucky brought a cheesecake,” he said sweetly.

Tony frowned up at him, unimpressed. “Was he gonna say my ass? He was gonna say my ass, wasn’t he. I don’t put out on the first date.”

“What about the second?” Bucky called out to him as he stood up and dusted himself off.

“You’ll need to see if you earn a second one,” Tony informed him imperiously, and then looked up at Sam with a smile. “What kind of cheesecake? I’ve had that. I like it.”

“We brought a couple different toppings,” Sam said, smiling back at him. “You can have your pick.”

Tony’s feathers fluffed as he beamed up at him. Sam could only gape, because holy shit, he suddenly understood what Bucky had meant when he’d said, ‘you are small and pretty like a songbird.’ He just wanted to tuck Tony into their apartment and keep him happy and sated until the end of time.

“You see,” Bucky hissed as Tony stepped into his apartment to send off a couple emails before they left. “You see? I’m not just especially demonic you’ve just never actually found another person you wanted to keep like me. Our honeymoon wasn’t three decades long because of me, remember, it was because you didn’t want it to end and you wanted to make sure I smelled like you. You’re not in better control of yourself, you’re just pickier than I am.”

“Brimstone and bats,” Sam breathed, aghast, as he realized the truth in his words.

.-.-.-.

The date went so well that they got to learn that Tony put out on the second as long there was already a promise of a third.

[jonnysinsectcatalogue]

Yponomeuta Ermine Moth - Yponomeuta sp.

Though this little spotted ghost of the forest appears plain, it has many secrets to share as knowledge. Though it appears all clad in white wings, it was surprising to learn that the hindwing is a sandy grey color, as is a majority of its body (not the head). In flight, this Moth can emit clicking noises to deter flying predators such as bats from consuming it during nocturnal flight. The clicking isn't meant to interfere with a bat's echolocation; it serves as a broadcasted warning that this Lepidopteran is toxic to eat! The hungry bat will have to (eventually) learn to associate the clicking noise with the bad taste for the deterrent to work. The reason behind the Moth's toxicity comes from the consumption of its host plant - European spindle - during its time as a Caterpillar. Though their toxin is noxious to mammals, some hunting insects don't seem to mind. This individual may have encounter such a hunter as it appears to be missing its hindlegs. Typically the hindlegs are beneath the abdomen to support the insect's weight and maintain balance and also keep them out of sight. This individual however, has lost its right hindleg, and presents the illusion of 4 legs to an eager photographer. But now, how to identify this insect successfully? At first glance, you might feel inclined to look at the spots on the wings to try and make an identification. Like a ghost, this insect isn't seen very often (during the day) and is even trickier to positively identify.

The North American Moths of the Yponomeuta genus (the 'y' is pronounced as an 'ee') are near-impossible to distinguish from each other without a thorough inspection. It's reported that due to variability and inconsistencies, spot number and general placement isn't helpful...and I learned that the hard way for this little ghost. The best way to conclusively determine which Yponomeuta specie you've found is to examine the genitalia under magnification. This method is a common practice in entomology with caught specimens, but it isn't something a photographer or an everyday insect enthusiast might be able to do. Something that may hold some promise for a successful identification is the entire arrangement of spots (i.e. the whole pattern) across the wings (and body). Comparing the individual found here to successful photo identifications, there's a possibility that this Moth is the Spindle Moth (Y. cagnagella) given the spot arrangement (especially at the thorax and the edge of the wing), spot density and the yellow mouth. While I can't say for certain, discovering Spindle Moth Caterpillars in 2021 and 2022 in the same woods is very promising for my educated guess. Finding the host plant would be the best way to confirm the identify of this Moth, particularly as different Yponomeuta Ermine Moths use a range of spindles as their host. During the summer of 2024, I'll see what can be found in the woods.

Pictures were taken on August 27, 2020 with a Google Pixel 4. For additional information on Yponomeuta Moths, I recommend reading this paper by Menken et al (1992) as a comprehensive starting point.

[doronjosama]

Caturday Flashback: Jammer on the Stuva desk. (Aug2020). #caturday #caturdayflashback #catsofinstagram #catstagram #catscatscats #august2020 #jammer #katzenjammerkid #jammerbammer #mainecoon #americanforestcat #NeuHaus #rescuecats #adoptdontshop #mysons #kittybabies #mytreasures #catmomlife #latergram https://www.instagram.com/p/Cp8irwfprIV/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[juliasphotoarchives]

2.8.20

[drdadbooks]

Sitting Pretty 3I0858 by Daniel D'Auria Via Flickr: With a mud-smeared face and the coyest gazes a two year old cub sits for a portrait at the edge of the creek. She's waiting for mom to bring back some fish but her care free attitude makes her irresistible. Sometimes it is difficult to remember that these animals are wild. For if there were a way to bring her home, I would!

[hldailyupdate]

#ProudOfHarry and #CongratulationsHarry are currently trending worldwide on Twitter!! 🍉 (10 August 2020)

[xyliane]

AUgust 7: HAVE YOU SEEN THIS 12 YEAR OLD

PROMPT THE SEVENTH: CHILDHOOD FRIENDS wait how can you childhood friends au killugon, I asked myself, forgetting that I had a whole-ass idea in my drafts already. this one’s a proper fic, too (minus editing cuz l o l it’s an AU writing challenge, not editing challenge). T, aged-up killugon, modern day au. ft ambiguous descriptions of social media, alluka, kalluto, and leorio in killua’s corner, and zushi and spinner in gon’s, brief discussion of getting plastered and dealing with a hangover. 5000 words.

0o0o0o0o0

The first sign that today is going to be an absolutely terrible day, is when Killua wakes up with a hangover.

This does not happen. Killua can count on one hand the number of times he’s gotten so drunk he’s had a hangover, and most of them are the fault of his little siblings. Little siblings who are now living together, whose couch he is currently painfully existing upon, half too hot and his toes way too cold. And the couch is too soft, an old secondhand thing he’d helped Alluka grapple up the stairs months ago after they found it outside an old dorm. He makes a notch in his very sore brain to blame the current situation on them. Kalluto might be kind enough to let a drunk big brother crash with them, but Alluka has a devious streak a mile wide.

Yeah. This is definitely their fault.

One eye slowly creaks open, surveying his surroundings through blurry vision. Nothing out of the ordinary here. He’s in the pajamas he’s left with Alluka forever ago, curled up under an old blanket he gave her for Nanika’s birthday. It’s covered in the Matrix code, all green letters on black wool. It barely covers him from chest to knees, which explains the cold toes.

Sunlight flickers through the curtains, cheerful and bright, and Killua pulls the blanket over his face. He’ll take cold toes over being blinded by his headache.

The second sign that today is going to be an absolutely terrible day, is when a noise like a chainsaw burrowing through a marshmallow erupts from his phone buzzing on the coffee table, just barely out of reach.

Killua attempts to bury himself under the blanket. He’s not dealing with work today.

And then he remembers: He doesn’t have work. Work can’t bother him today. Not just because it’s a weekend—work never respected the sanctity of weekends, no matter that he was at least partially in charge and used to have a fancy degree hanging on his wall. He doesn’t have work anymore. Killua quit.

Which, well. That explains the hangover.

He’s still blaming his siblings.

His phone buzzes loud enough to break the sound barrier, and Killua decides, fuck it. He doesn’t have anything to lose. If it’s the-place-formerly-known-as-work, he can delete everything. If it’s Mom or Father, he can definitely delete everything. And maybe it’s a friendly person, congratulating him on giving up a job that for anyone else would have been an absolute money-making dream. He’ll delete those too.

It takes a few tries to unlock his phone, and it unfortunately involves opening his eyes, squinting against the glaring light of the screen. But once he does, he frowns. Maybe he’s seeing double. Or a hundredfold. Because he should not have this many notifications.

awwww cute, i hope u 2 find each other! the top one says. It has several hundred likes. Why is it in his notifications?

Scrolling down reveals that it’s not an anomaly.

wtf man how can you find a TWELVE YEAR OLD from FIFTEEN YEARS AGO.

Me and my mom went on a cruise around there once, it was really pretty!

this is so sweet T__T maybe this is him?

And then another hundred photos of brown-skinned men with varying degrees of shirt-wearing, all black haired and most of them buff in very appealing ways and all of them beaming at Killua.

“What the fuck,” Killua croaks as he scrolls through all of the images and messages. Maybe this is a dream. A really weird, hangover-induced dream about how little of a social life he has, that his phone is possessed by someone else’s. A warning of sorts, that he should never have installed any social media on his phone ever, not even for hookups.

The reason for all the notifications lies at the top of his own page. Just a few sentences, all-caps, with an image of an old crinkled photo of two boys on a tropical beach, grinning at the camera. Killua sees himself, white curly hair flying in all directions and pale skin sunburned and ruddy with the briny wind, happier than Killua can ever remember being. Next to him, one arm slung around his shoulders and the other holding a bucket full of seashells, is a brown-skinned boy with freckles dancing across his nose and the tops of his shoulders, brown eyes wide and laughing and black hair thick and spiked from some mix of wind and seawater and natural gravity defiance.

He didn’t know he still had this photo. It had followed him from childhood all the way through grad school, a carefully guarded keepsake hidden away from the watchful eyes of his parents and Illumi, before ending up in a box or a bag at some point in the last few years. Part of Killua thought he’d lost it in the move. He barely remembers much about being twelve, about the cruise he’d been forcibly dragged on. But he remembers…

HAVE YOU SEEN THIS BOY? yells the caption. WE WERE BEST FRIENDS FOR A WEEK WHEN I GOT DRAGGED ON A CRUISE BY MY ASSHOLE PARENTS. HE WAS 12 ON WHALE ISLAND 15 YEARS AGO. IF FOUND, DM IMMEDIATELY.

“Gon,” Killua breathes.

He gathers himself, wrapping the blanket around his head in a feeble protection against the morning, and lurches over to Alluka’s room.

He gets to bang on her door three times, confused spite winning out over his own pounding headache, before Kalluto appears out of their room, blinking blearily at Killua. “Shut up.”

Killua kicks Alluka’s door for good measure, and brandishes his phone in front of him like a weapon. “Not until you explain what the hell this is doing on the internet.”

Kalluto pales, then flushes, then pales again. “Oh. Um.”

At that, Alluka creaks her door open, guilty blue eyes far too awake for how close to noon it is. Killua kind of wants to kill her on principle alone. If he has to be hungover, so does everyone else.

“Explain,” he grinds out through his teeth.

The third and final sign that today is going to be an absolutely terrible day, is when Alluka puts on her most winning smile, the kind she uses to ward off angry customers and idiotic faux-academics on the internet. “Congratulations, Brother! I might have made you go viral.”

Killua throws his phone at her.

—————

Today’s going to be a good day, Gon decides. He’s been in the forests of East Gorteau for the better part of a month, which normally isn’t so bad. But this group has been…They’re nice enough, when Gon’s not spending half of his time explaining that, no, that species of plant does not make a good stew, and no, that species is endangered please don’t hunt them, and yes Gon is sure he doesn’t date his clients even after the hike, and no the reason the tent fell over again is because it wasn’t properly set up in the first place—

All of Aunt Mito’s complaints about tourists on Whale Island make so much more sense, now that Gon’s leading backwoods hikes.

But last night had been fun! Spinner had met the group at a pre-set campsite not far from their pickup so Gon hadn’t had to work the whole night, and he could relax with his friend over good food, more alcohol than he probably should have drunk, and not having to explain to Mrs. Yuldvin the difference between marijuana, buckeye, and poison oak again. Spinner had even taken care of the fire, although she had left him to rescue the Podomos siblings from the ruins of their tent with nothing more than a smirk and a wave. Nevertheless, Gon smiled through his headache all morning, because soon he’ll be home, and he can sleep.

Zushi is waiting in the parking lot once Gon’s done packing up the last of the gear and saying goodbye to Spinner, jeep idling while he flicks through his phone, thick eyebrows drawn together in increasing concern. He doesn’t even look up until Gon drops his pack onto the hood of the car, and he jolts so badly in surprise that he tosses his phone in the air.

“Are you okay?” Gon asks, and tries to peek at the screen.

Zushi pulls it up and away, a frantic look in his eyes. It won’t really keep Gon from seeing what’s happening, not if he wants to, but Zushi’s height is enough of a deterrent to make it hard. “You were gone way too long,” he says.

Gon leans against the hot metal of Zushi’s car. It wasn’t an unusual length for a trip, not really—this backcountry needs the length to be able to see and understand the region. Not to mention the Small Billed Swan preservation society keeping the whole place locked down except to authorized guides and trekkers. Zushi knows this. They’ve been roommates long enough that this isn’t even the longest time Gon’s been gone.

“You knew I’d be gone til today,” Gon says.

“Yeah, but…” Zushi’s eyebrows descend even further, scrunching his whole face up in worry. “You haven’t checked your phone, right?”

“No?” Even if he did have cell service, Gon never brings his own phone. He borrows Kite’s satellite phone, because it is more reliable and doesn’t need to be charged constantly.

“Okay. Well.” Zushi takes a deep breath, then another, one of Wing’s old meditation techniques. Despite his exhaustion and single-minded determination to sink into a real bed and sleep for a week, Gon feels a minor pang of worry. On breath three, he unlocks his phone and turns it towards Gon. “You’re a meme.”

On Zushi’s screen is a photo Gon can’t ever forget about. Backed by Whale Island’s sunbleached white beaches and the humid brilliant colors of summer, Gon sees himself—twelve, smiling from ear to ear, hair a mess from swimming and his shirt practically covered in sand from digging up all the seashells in his bucket. He’s got an arm around another boy, who’s caught mid-laugh so his blue eyes burn the same color as the sky, white curls even messier than Gon’s hair. They look like they’ve known each other their whole lives, like they’d still be best friends even if they haven’t seen or spoken to each other since the photo was taken.

Gon hopes Killua thinks so, too.

He cradles the phone in his hand, carefully zooming in on their faces and the errant crinkles visible through the photo. His own faded copy is in a drawer, having survived a whole trip around the world and countless apartment jumps. This one looks just as well cared for, in its own way.

“That…is you, right?” Zushi asks carefully. “Because Wing was asking, and half of Kite’s guide company is yelling about it on your social media page that you don’t even use, and now people are messaging me, and they’re saying the weirdest things, and the post is from last week, so—”

“It’s Killua,” Gon says. A smile spreads across his face, a mirror to the one he’d had when he was twelve. “That’s Killua!”

“Who?” the others ask, but Gon isn’t listening.

He spins, frantically searching his pockets for his phone. “Spinner, can you do me a favor?”

She narrows her eyes suspiciously.

Gon knew today was going to be a good day.

—————

It’s been a week, and Killua has quit all social media forever.

The steady buzz of his phone informing the apartment of his notifications is not his problem. Alluka’s the one who decided to hack into his phone and post something to his old public account, the one he mostly uses for photos of cats and complaining about terrible business precedents. He hasn’t posted much since school, and if anything, it should have simply vanished into the void of the internet.

He finds the culprit fairly quickly, and for once it’s not his sister’s moderate but dedicated video following.

“Old man, what the fuck is wrong with you?”

Leorio lounges in Alluka and Kalluto’s living room, freshly out of his scrubs and looking pleased as all hell. “I just reblogged a fun post from my friend,” he says somewhat defensively. “You were a cute kid, Killua. What happened?”

Killua feels a growl creep up his throat. “You can’t just do that,” he snaps.

“It’s not my fault the people like my well-coiffed but rugged appearance and dedication to social justice in medicine.”

“You have 500,000 followers because you made a joke post two years ago, and some authorized user reblogged it five times. It has nothing to do with your ugly mug.” If Killua squints and plugs his ears, he can even see why people think Leorio’s attractive or whatever: tan skin, lean but strong as hell, actually takes care of his hair, not to mention a damn good doctor with one of the most prestigious institutions in Yorknew who spends most of his free time running health clinics in impoverished neighborhoods. That’s all swell. But then he starts talking, and Killua has no idea where the off button is.

Leorio spreads a hand out, gesturing vaguely with the glass of iced tea that he’d helped himself to out of Alluka’s stash. “It has everything to do with my ‘ugly mug,’” he says. “Which is why I used my powers for good and spread your post. Don’t you want to find him?”

“Not like this!”

“You were not going to find him at all,” Kalluto’s quiet voice pipes up from the kitchen. They have night classes tonight, but Killua has a feeling that even if they were supposed to be attending their Yorknew Uni lectures, they would still be here making Killua’s life worse. “You’ve had that picture for years, and you did not even try to look.”

Leorio gives him a judgmental look over the tops of his stupid tiny glasses. “You haven’t?”

It would be a losing game to bury his burning face in one of the throw pillows, so Killua does his best to cross his arms over his chest and glower instead. “I…tried.”

“And?”

“I don’t even know his last name!” Killua splutters. “I didn’t have his number or where he was from, other than his mom worked on the ship. And that cruiseline went bankrupt and liquidated everything before I could get out of the house, so I couldn’t even look that up.”

Kalluto crosses over from the kitchen and perches like a sweatshirt-wearing crow on the coffee table, their blue eyes carefully neutral under straight black bangs. “Alluka and Nanika would have helped. Or even Milluki, if you had explained the situation.”

“I was eighteen, okay? I just left home, and our parents were still being…shit, themselves, I guess.” He hadn’t even considered asking for help. Then again, he’d tried the moment he could, that first summer of undergrad where he didn’t have to come home and Illumi couldn’t spend half his time breathing down the back of Killua’s neck. He had a general idea of where they’d gone, maps of islands scurried away in the closet with the old photo and a bag full of seashells Gon had given him as a going-away present.

They’d been friends for a week, in the whirlwind way that only kids can be. The cruise ship was massive, and Killua’s parents were in meetings half the time and playing nice with the other rich people on board the other half. Killua had been bored witless, and Gon was everything he couldn’t have possibly imagined: encouraging Killua to go exploring, to stealing food from the kitchens, making him help clean up the decks, playing cards with the deckhands. Sneaking off the boat to visit an island without Killua’s parents while the ship was docked, scrambling over the burning hot sands and dashing through the jungle, diving into the waves fully clothed and competing to see who could find the biggest prettiest shells. Gon’d been Killua’s first friend, his first crush, his first…a lot of firsts.

Then the cruise had ended, and Killua forgot to give Gon his phone number. His address. Anything. They’d been so swept up in being friends, being best friends, it had seemed impossible that they would never see each other again.

Does Gon even remember? Why should he, when Killua hasn’t contacted him? Would they even be friends anymore?

Maybe he hadn’t searched hard enough. But part of Killua thinks he shouldn’t have tried at all.

The phone buzzes loudly, and Killua tries not to flinch.

“Hey, Killua. It’s okay.” Leorio leans forward, hands clasped over his too-long limbs and expression gentle. “If you want me to delete it, I will. Not sure I can help with the viral part of things, except maybe go through your messages and delete the gross ones, or at least find the weirdest ones for you to laugh at later.”

“Alluka and I have been doing this already,” Kalluto says, their posture a little too protective for Killua’s raw nerves at this point. “But perhaps you have some suggestions for what to do next, Dr. Paladiknight?”

Leorio smiles sympathetically. “Don’t read the comments? That said, most of your comments have been much more positive than anything I usually post. The masses seem to be genuinely rooting for you, kid.”

“I have only had to delete a dozen lewd messages for you this morning,” Kalluto adds, not mentioning the hundred or so that Alluka took care of yesterday.

Killua’s traitorous phone buzzes again, and that’s it. Time to bury himself in a pillow. Killua flops onto the couch, narrowly missing Leorio, and does his best to burrow into the cushions. “That’s just great,” he says into the fabric.

A comforting hand rubs against his hair, messing up the curls for a moment, and Killua refuses to admit that it’s nice, that he has friends like Leorio who even bother to care. “It could be worse. You could be dealing with this while still working a soul-sucking job making more money than most of us will see in our lifetimes, in exchange for giving up all of your morals.”

Killua groans loudly. “I’m not having this conversation with you.”

“You’re gonna need to do something, Killua! And hey, I might be able to set something up with my—”

“I already told you, no.”

“But it’s what you’re good at. And you wouldn’t be fucking people over to do it.”

“No.”

“Just listen for one—”

Killua lifts his head enough to glare as murderously as he can at Leorio. It must work at least a little, because the doctor shuts up.

Meanwhile, Kalluto is scrolling through Killua’s phone, poking at the screen occasionally. In the awkward silence, their sharp gasp is loud enough to shatter a window, and they hurriedly shove the phone in the pocket of their oversized sweatshirt.

Leorio raises an eyebrow. “Everything okay?”

Kalluto squeezes their eyes shut for a moment, then carefully places the phone on the coffee table, screen pointed innocently at the ceiling. “You will want to look at this one, Brother.”

“This isn’t another erotic sandcastle is it?” he says.

Kalluto shakes their head, and Killua’s stomach lurches up his throat. Alluka has been the one excited about this whole thing. But Kalluto, as reserved as they are, is a massive romantic. The whole thing might be Alluka’s fault, but Killua knows it’s Kalluto who almost lets themselves believe it’ll work. Despite all of the false positives, the people who send messages that don’t sound right or photos that have the wrong smile.

Killua doesn’t want to hope. It can’t possibly be Gon. But his hands shake nonetheless as he unlocks his phone and finds a new message in his DMs.

It’s not from Gon.

Instead, someone with the icon of a small-billed white swan in a soft small-billed hat and a handle of @flymypretties has sent a photo of a brown-skinned man with spiky black hair absolutely covered in dirt and grime. He’s waving at the camera, a backpacking bag propped against his shoulder and the widest smile Killua has ever seen beaming straight through the screen and into his chest. Next to him and half out of frame, a tall tanned man with massive black eyebrows and a tank top showing off an impressive amount of muscle has his head in his hands. Killua feels a sharp stab of sympathy, somewhere buried beneath the racing of his heart.

look im sorry about this but this idiot can’t find his phone and we r kind of in the middle of nowhere so reception’s shit. he wants to know if you admit he found the biggest seashell on the beach, whatever that means.

For a long, long moment—seconds? minutes maybe?—Killua can do nothing but stare at the screen of his phone. Leorio and Kalluto both look at him with a mix of curiosity and worry, Kalluto starting to slowly reach for the phone.

In a completely childish protective moment, Killua grabs it against his chest, like the image will vanish if he doesn’t keep it close.

“Is it…?” Leorio asks.

Killua swallows heavily, trying to think around the roaring of the ocean in his ears. “I think so,” he says faintly.

Kalluto’s eyes widen, and they spin on their heels towards their room. “I’m calling Alluka!”

—————

“Has he responded?”

“No!”

“…what about now?”

Spinner throws her hands in the air so violently that her hat falls off. “For god’s sake, Gon, it’s been an hour, you don’t even have your phone, and you still need to go home.”

Gon huffs and pouts. They’re still in the parking lot over an hour after the rest of the trekking group has left, and all the exhaustion that had settled into Gon’s body from the tour has been turned into a jittery energy that keeps trying to leak out from under his skin. He wants to go home immediately and dig out his copy of the photo, rub out the old fingerprints he and Aunt Mito have left on it over the years. He wants to find his phone and message Killua directly. He wants to wait right here until Killua responds, no matter how long it takes.

He knows it’s childish, to be this selfish. Spinner has work to do, work that she already put on hold to help with the last day of the tour. Kite probably will want to know what’s happening, or at least why his lead guide and his chief guide organizer have been stuck in a parking lot. And Gon can practically feel Zushi’s obsessive scrolling through social media, frantically trying to navigate Gon’s feeds without actually having access.

Gon needs to find his phone.

“Spinner, what if—”

It’s not that Spinner’s a large woman. Out of the three people standing in the parking lot, Zushi’s far and away the strongest, even if he is about as threatening as a large, muscular teddy bear. And Gon has only packed on weight and muscle over his years of backpacking around the wilderness, no matter that he’s not super tall. But Spinner goes for longer, harder treks on her own than anyone but Kite, and she packs in her own climbing gear on top of that, so when she tosses Gon into the back of Zushi’s jeep, he flies.

“Zushi,” she says in a low exhausted snarl, and he jumps right off the hood of his car. Gon probably would have felt bad for him, if everything wasn’t spinning. “If you do not take your roommate home, I am not responsible for the consequences.”

“What if you hear back?” Gon groans around the aches in his side.

Spinner rolls her eyes, and Gon knows she’s just tired. “I’ll let you know.”

“But what if my phone’s gone? What will I do if someone stole it, or if I can’t—”

“I’ll call you go home already,” she says, and slams the door shut on his face.

For a long moment, the only sound is Spinner storming away, boots thudding heavily in the dirt until her car door slams.

The jeep shifts slightly as Zushi quietly lowers himself into the driver’s seat and puts the key into the ignition. Gon wants to tell him to follow Spinner, so she can yell out the window as soon as Killua gets back to her. But Zushi looks about ready to bolt. So Gon slumps back in the seat, the rumble of tires crunching through gravel making his already jittery nerves shake.

A small voice that sounds a lot like Kite tells Gon that it’s better to wait, that it will be easier to have a conversation and determine if this really is Killua after a rest and a shower.

Gon doesn’t want that, though. He wants…

It’s been a long time since he was on Whale Island. Longer still since he saw Killua. That doesn’t mean he stopped thinking about either of them, during the quiet moments out under the stars. They’re part of him, like his lungs are part of him—essential and irreplaceable, buried so far inside that removing them would change him irrevocably.

What is Killua like now? Is Gon just as important to him as he is to Gon? He has to be. Right?

They make it home without saying anything else. Gon floats in and out between bone-deep weariness and electric sparks of nervous joy, and Zushi flinches every time Gon jolts himself from one to the other.

“Hey, are you…I mean, maybe not okay, but.”

Gon lifts his chin up sharply at the sound of his roommate’s voice, and notices the familiar apartment complex in front of him. Oh, they’re home. “I’m good,” he says, and grins.

“Sure,” Zushi says like he doesn’t believe Gon.

A dubious silence stretches out between them as they gather the rest of the gear, dropping it in a heap on the sidewalk. “You were kids, though,” Zushi finally says.

Gon shrugs and slams the door shut hard enough to make the vehicle rattle. “I didn’t forget. So I don’t think Killua would, either.”

Zushi’s eyebrows wrinkle on each other, like they can’t decide whether to go up or down and settle on some combination of the two. “What if he did?”

“He didn’t,” Gon says, more sure of that than anything else in his life.

Zushi’s eyebrows dance again, but he doesn’t say anything else.

Between Gon’s camping gear and Zushi’s leftover practice pads, it takes longer than Gon’s excitement can take to get everything settled enough to look for his phone. Well, Gon would have liked to look for his phone, but Zushi makes a pointed look at the shower. There are only so many places the phone could be in the whole apartment, after all.

Gon’s just drying off when Zushi knocks on the door. “I found it, but it’s dead,” he says, voice muffled.

“Then charge it!” Gon shouts. After a moment, he adds, quieter and less snappishly, “Please?”

A faint laugh echoes through the apartment.

By the time Gon can make himself a very early dinner of whatever he could grab out of the cabinets without thinking, the phone is charged enough to turn on. Sure enough, there are a wide variety of messages, mostly from Kite’s groupchat asking about the viral post. A few are from former hikers, people who Gon liked enough to share contact info, offering to see if they can get in touch. There are even a few—okay, how did they get ahold of his old social media page? It’s practically defunct, since Gon’s never had a phone capable of more than the most basic apps. And those are…

It’s flattering in a way, but Gon’s not really into that. Or them.

Zushi catches sight of the grimace, and takes one look over Gon’s shoulder before turning beet red.

By the time he’s gone through and deleted the vast majority of what had been filling up his phone, there’s still no message from Spinner, and nothing at all from Killua. Gon sighs and lies his head down on the table with a heavy thunk.

The other chair scrapes heavily along the tiles as Zushi sits, a mug of coffee in his hands. “What will you do? When he messages you, I mean.”

When, not if, an unexpected certainty coming from Zushi. Gon has the best friends in the world. “Talk to him,” Gon says. “It’s only been fifteen years, right? We promised we’d be friends forever.”

“A lot changes in fifteen years,” Zushi says.

“Not that.”

“Then why didn’t you look for him?”

Gon frowns. It had taken a long, long time, but Aunt Mito managed to track down the cruise captain the last time they were in port, tracing through old charters until the right names came up. But when she’d called them up, she’d been met with stonewall after stonewall, pleasant-sounding voices insisting in no uncertain terms that she would never speak with a member of Killua’s family, let alone let her son speak to his friend. By the time Gon was old enough to look himself, he found nothing but a mansion full of people whose eyes matched Killua’s in everything except for his warmth, who refused to even acknowledge Gon’s presence except to throw him out.

That had been years ago. It’s not that Gon stopped looking. Not exactly.

“I did, but I—” Gon starts to say, but his phone buzzes violently against the table, and they both jump out of their chairs.

“Is it—?” Zushi asks, breath in his throat.

It’s a message from Spinner. you owe me big time, kid, she says, followed by a phone number.

Gon rips his phone off the cable, a wide smile spreading across his face. “It is,” he says, and dials Killua.

—————

bzz bzz—

bzz bzz—

bzz b—

“H-hello?”

“Killua! Hi!”

“…Gon? Is that—It’s really…?”

“Killua, it’s you, I thought I’d never—”

“I did find the biggest seashell, and you know it.”

A breath, sharp and astonished. “The blue and white one, with green lines.”

“I found it, and I gave it to you.”

“I still have it.”

A snort of amusement, slightly damp. “I know. You promised you’d keep it.”

“I did. And I promised—”

“That we’d be friends forever.”

A laugh, delighted and teary at the same time. “I knew you remembered.”

“I did promise you that I would.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

(AUgust prompts)