#pond filtration systems

[thatpondguyuk]

Caring for an Inherited Koi Pond

Discover the essential steps to care for a koi pond you've inherited. Learn how to assess, clean, upgrade, and maintain your pond for healthy koi and a thriving aquatic environment.

Caring for an Inherited Koi Pond can be both exciting and daunting. A well-maintained pond is a beautiful addition to any property, but it also comes with significant responsibilities. Koi ponds require specific care to ensure the health of the fish and the longevity of the pond itself. If you’ve recently inherited a koi pond, this comprehensive guide will walk you through the essential steps to…

[aquabead]

Aqua Bead Filters: The Ultimate Solution Filter For Pond Pump System

Filtration is essential to keeping pond water healthy and clear. Filters help remove debris, prevent clogs, reduce algae growth and provide oxygen to underwater plants. Select a filter whose capacity matches that of your Filter For Pond Pump volume, taking into account any fish stocking levels or adding a model if necessary.

Pump

▸Introduction to Pond Pumps: Filter For Pond Pump are recirculating pumps used for powering waterfalls and fountains as well as filtering the water in garden ponds, as well as filtering it. Pond Pumps are integral in maintaining healthy fish & wildlife in the garden pond; running 24/7 to filter the water and regularly cleaning out pre-filters is required to do this effectively. However, clear water does not necessarily signify healthy fish; regular testing of your water quality as well as seeking advice if your fish seem lethargic are essential components to good pond maintenance.

▸Capturing Debris for Clear Water: Filter For Pond Pump come equipped with mechanical, chemical and biological filtration systems for maximum clarity of water in your pond. Filter pads capture large debris as well as smaller particles before passing over bio-balls to biologically filter out debris – creating the clearest water possible for your aquatic habitat. Some filters even come equipped with built-in skimmer for easy surface debris removal.

▸Chemically Compatible Materials for Increased Resistance: Some of the latest models feature chemically compatible materials to increase resistance against harmful substances found in liquids that need to be pumped, and an air gap between their motor and pump chamber to minimize heat transfer as well as noise and vibrations.

▸Choosing the Right Pond Pump: Your choice of Filter For Pond Pump will depend on the size and purpose of your pond. Magnetic drive pumps are generally more durable and energy efficient; however they don’t lift water to heights beyond 2m. Direct Drive pumps may provide better water lift at greater head heights but don’t offer as much efficiency in energy savings as magnetic drive pumps do.

Pre-Filter

▸Introduction to Pre-Filters: Pre-filters, also referred to as sediment filters, remove dirt, sand, rust, silt and other large suspended particles from water before it enters your primary filtration system. By doing so they protect it from becoming clogged up while providing cleaner and higher quality water for your home.

▸Pre-Filters for Private Well Owners: Homeowners with private wells use pre-filters to capture iron and debris that enters their water system from their well, protecting equipment and avoiding costly service calls to their home.

▸Pre-filters, also referred to as catch all filters:  Are constructed from materials like polypropylene that can easily be washed – ideal for homes with pets and those suffering from respiratory conditions as they capture large particles such as hair, dust and lint.

Biological Filter

▸Breaking Down Organic Pollutants: Biological Filter For Pond Pump use beneficial bacteria to break down organic pollutants in the water, providing an effective means of purification. They work best when combined with mechanical and pre-filters for an integrated filtering system.

▸Ensuring Adequate Oxygen Supply: Installing a biological Filter For Pond Pump requires careful consideration to ensure it’s placed appropriately in your water feature and receiving adequate oxygen. Furthermore, its pump should be powerful enough to push nutrient-rich water through it as without this action, the bacteria would quickly consume all their oxygen supply and die.

▸The Power of Billions of Bacteria in Biological Filtration: To be effective, biological Filter For Pond Pump requires billions of bacteria working together to cleanse the water. Since bacteria attach themselves to surfaces like filter media, rocks, or gravel, surface area is a crucial component in this process – thus justifying why ponds with gravel on their bottom are preferable over those without.

▸Removing Nitrates for Clean and Clear Water: After bacteria have broken down harmful nutrients, they will convert them to nitrates for consumption by aquatic plants and algae during their growth processes. De-nitrification then removes them from the pond through anaerobic areas without oxygen; an integral part of keeping your water clean and clear.

UV Clarifier

▸Addressing the Issue of Green Water: Green murky water can be the bane of every water garden owner’s existence. Green water is caused by single-celled algae settling to the bottom and can occur even with an effectively balanced ecosystem pond system.

▸Reduced Maintenance and Crystal-Clear Water: A UV clarifier works to eliminate green water by killing off algae before it can form blooms that stain the water’s surface and result in green streaks. This solution is great for ponds predisposed to green water or those looking to reduce maintenance while still having crystal-clear waters.

▸UV Clarifiers as Sterilizers, Not Filters: Though commonly mistaken as filters, UV clarifiers should actually be seen as sterilizers rather than filters. UV lights work by killing any undesirable organisms. For optimum performance and increased lifespan of the light itself it is advised that an appropriate amount of wattage be chosen according to your pond size.

▸Size Options for Pond UV Clarifiers: There are various sizes of UV clarifiers to choose from when it comes to pond UV clarifiers, and you can either purchase standalone units or ones as part of a Filter/UV combo package. It is essential that the flow rate of your pump matches up with that recommended by the UV unit’s manufacturer; usually this information can be found either within their product description or directly on it.

Why Choose Aqua Bead!

In terms of pond pump filtration systems, Aqua Bead by Filter is head and shoulders above the competition. Aqua Bead by Filter is highly recommended for pond owners for multiple reasons.  The helpful bacteria that inhabit the huge surface area created by these beads efficiently break down hazardous elements and keep the water clear. The second reason is that  filters work so well and last so long. Their filtration performance remains ideal even when subjected to heavy water flows.  Plus, you won’t have to spend as much time Aqua Bead cleaning and maintaining your pond when you use Aqua Bead filters.

[rpaquatics]

Buy Pond Filtration Systems for Clean, Healthy Water

Explore high-performance pond filtration systems at RP Aquatics. Keep your pond water clean, healthy, and clear with advanced, reliable solutions. Visit Here:-

[nanamineedstherapy]

Third Wheeling Your Own Marriage

F!Non-Sorceress CEO Reader x Gojo Satoru x Nanami Kento F!CHRO Reader x Higuruma Hiromi

Summary: You should be overjoyed that Gojo Satoru & Nanami Kento are your husbands. But you feel your skin crawl as you become the third wheel in your own marriage.

Previous Chapter 21 (alt ending 2.12) - What the Living Do - Part 1 - (Tumblr/Ao3)

Chapter 21 (alt ending 2.12) - What the Living Do - Part 2

Penthouse Building: Common Biophilic Garden

The garden was your favorite part of the penthouse complex—not just because you’d sunk an obscene amount of yen into modifying it but because it was the perfect blend of opulence and function. The entire space was a biophilic marvel: traditional Japanese landscaping with ecologically responsible elements—an elevated koi pond with a self-cleaning filtration system, bonsai grown from ethically sourced seeds, and a digitally controlled hydroponic system that saved 40% more water than conventional methods, so efficient it made environmentalists weep.

And birds naturally came there. So many fucking birds.

That part had been for Takahashi—currently tethered to his full-body Hermès leash (because Gojo insisted all his kids would have standards). 

Your eldritch albino toddler raccoon was crouched by the pond, chittering at a sparrow like a demonic wind-up toy. Except instead of chasing it, he was dunking a rock into the water over and over, as if conducting a cursed baptism.

You weren’t sure what this meant, but you were sure that the leash had bite marks on it.

“Jr., if you’re planning another jailbreak, I will revoke your snail-watching privileges.” You warned.

Takahashi froze. Then, with deliberate slowness, he shoved the rock into the pond.

You narrowed your eyes. "That’s what I thought."

A ping from your laptop cut the standoff.

You adjusted your posture on the hand-carved bench—ergonomic, sustainably sourced, and stupidly expensive—and flicked open the screen.

Subject: HUSBANDS: THE HORROR

From: Dove (Game Dev - Main Villain Branch) Attachments: 2 Files

The second Nanami’s rendered face loaded, you choked on your sparkling yuzu water.

There he was: pixel-perfect, brow furrowed with enough disdain to vaporize a lesser CEO.

Incoming video call: Dove.

You accepted. “Dove. My husband looks like he just smelled a bankruptcy filing. Perfect.”

“I know, right?” Dove cackled. “I even added a forehead vein expansion feature that activates every time the player breathes incorrectly in his vicinity.”

“Good. But his eyes are wrong.”

“They’re hazel…? I swear I saw it when he dropkicked Jeremy into the VR rig and fixed his cuffs.”

Shit. You couldn’t outright say golden—too many old photos might resurface. “They are brown, but add a luminous amber filter for combat mode. Subtle. Like… sunlight through honey whiskey.”

Dove squinted. “So they’re brown.”

“They are, but they have this subtle henna-like green tint. If you look closely, it’s his soft expressions—or maybe his aura—that makes them feel warm.”

A pause. Then you smirked. “I know, right? Fake-ass tsundere—”

Behind the koi pond, hidden among the manicured sakura trees, Gojo Satoru had officially transcended human function.

He’d been lurking—silent, technically obedient—hovering behind a row of blossoms, dressed down in a suspiciously casual black sweater and joggers, not making his presence known because, technically, today was Nanami’s day, and only Nanami was allowed to speak to you.

He knew this.

He respected this. (Tolerated at best.)

Gojo hadn’t meant to hover like a deprived Victorian ghost, but he’d spotted you by pure accident.

—He had been bored, searching for some other unsuspecting billionaire in the building to annoy, probably that retired arms dealer lady and her husband. That was until your voice carried through the garden like a targeted auditory curse.

He hadn’t expected to hear you go off about Nanami’s eyes like you were writing a love letter with Pantone codes.

But the skirt.

The hoodie.

His hoodie. His wife. Sitting there, gorgeous, pregnant, absolutely radiant—

And you were talking about Nanami’s eyes.

Gojo knew his husband was attractive. Objectively. Infuriatingly. But you—his wife, his pregnant, glowing, hoodie-stealing wife—were dissecting Nanami’s irises like they held the secrets of the universe.

His own eyes were rarer! More ethereal! Six-Eyes-certified!

Then—

“Next. Gojo’s hair.”

Gojo perked up.

You scowled at the screen. “This hex code is dogshit. His hair isn’t chalk white—it’s lavender-tinted, with micro-tones of pink and heavy violet undertones.”

Gojo's mouth parted, eyes wider than the sun.

A sound escaped him—something between a whimper and a seismic event.

On autopilot, he stumbled to the nearest water feature, staring at his reflection. The artificial moonlight caught it just right—

Oh.

Oh shit.

His hair did have undertones.

You noticed that? You memorized it?

You paid that much attention?

He gripped a sakura branch for support, the delicate blossoms brushing against his fingers. He knew you were always the one.

But holy shit. Even he didn’t know his Pantone.

You continued, typing furiously, “It’s #F5F3FF base, #E6E6FA overlay, shifting to #BCD9FF and #C9D7FF in direct light—faded at the roots like he’s literally too powerful for permanent dye jobs—like his roots are rejecting permanence on principle—"

Gojo was going to die.

His knees bent. His hands shook. He needed air. He needed oxygen. He needed to—

You—you—were reciting his hair’s color theory while holding on to a Porsche Design P’3135 titanium pen between your teeth like it was a damn lollipop.

Gojo short-circuited so hard it was audible.

You were wearing his hoodie—stolen—and a skirt that, scientifically, was shorter than memory allowed. Your pregnant belly, now third-trimester terrifying in its special grade geometry, barely fit beneath the hem.

And you were multitasking: sketching UI wireframes for a proprietary neural interface update, taking a call with your lead visual dev, and accidentally killing Gojo with every “mm” and “no, that curve’s wrong.”

He wanted to yank that pen out of your mouth with his teeth and kiss you until your portfolio blurred.

But then—then—

"That's way too small," you huffed, suddenly.

Gojo stopped breathing. His brain rebooted with a Windows error chime.

Dove, oblivious, hummed through. “Yeah? You think it should be bigger?”

“Obviously,” you said.

Gojo twitched like a man struck by lightning.

“More?”

“Yes. More.”

A sharp inhale. His vision pixelated.

"No. Not... it's not curved like that."

Gojo stopped breathing.

“More—okay, hold it,” you said. “Now add gloss over it.”

Gloss. You said gloss.

Gojo was seconds away from crawling through mulch and pine needles to die in your lap.

A few meters behind, Nanami Kento arrived, Espresso Tonic with Charcoal Dusting in hand, brow already furrowed. He’d expected the garden. He’d expected Takahashi. He’d not expected his very pregnant wife sitting under moonlight in couture maternity wear complaining about “curve” and “gloss” with Gojo twitching in nearby foliage.

Nanami halted.

You were on a call.

Gojo was crouched like a burglar.

And Takahashi—who hated Gojo with nuclear intensity—was vibrating on his leash like he’d just rolled a natural 20 for Smite Sorcerer Trash Husband.

Shoko had warned them about hormones. But nothing—nothing—prepared either man for the way you moaned the words “more, more, more” while holding a titanium pen in your teeth and barking revisions to a multi-million-dollar UI overhaul.

Gojo looked like he was about to ascend to another plane of existence. Nanami looked like he was about to run away.

Then—Takahashi decided diplomacy was over.

The raccoon lunged, leash snapping taut, eyes glowing with ancestral rage. A tiny, furious hiss burst out like a battle cry.

Gojo’s head whipped around. He made direct eye contact with the raccoon. His lips moved in panic.

“No, no, no—shh. Shut up, little demon. This is not the time—”

It was too late.

You turned.

Your gaze locked on the tragic figure of Gojo, hiding like a rejected himbo behind ornamental trees. His snow-white hair caught the moonlight. His sweater clung to him like a fan edit.

Your eyes narrowed.

He tried to shrink. Takahashi puffed up, snarling like a raccoon possessed by Mahito.

Gojo sent him a desperate look.

Takahashi sneezed at him in disgust.

Nanami sat down beside you at the stone table, placing his drink with deliberate grace. "Well," he said calmly. "It seems the toddler leash is effective."

Gojo stumbled into the open like a man exiting confession. "Babe, listen—"

“You were lurking.”

“I—” He scratched his neck. “Okay. Yes. I was lurking. But you were talking about me.”

You blinked, unimpressed. “And what exactly did you think I was talking about?”

Nanami took another sip of his drink, watching like it was theatre.

Gojo broke eye contact. Mumbled something unintelligible.

You leaned in. “Come again?”

He exhaled, flushed. “I thought you were talking about my dick, okay?”

Silence.

Dove—still on the call, apparently—wheezed. “I’ll talk later, boss.” She hung up so fast you could hear her sprinting away to share the new gossip.

You stared at Gojo, scandalized. Then glanced at Nanami, who looked like he was trying to decide whether to lecture or laugh.

Gojo dropped onto the bench beside you with theatrical grief. “You—” he pointed, betrayed, “—you made me believe—”

Takahashi, now near the koi pond, let out an unholy screech that echoed off the stone walls like an ancient curse.

You smirked. “No, I was talking about your ass.”

Gojo blinked. “My what?”

“For fan service, Satoru,” you said, snapping your laptop shut. “We’ve got a TikTok collab with Dove’s team for the next console teaser. Your glutes are getting a close-up.”

Gojo opened his mouth, then closed it, then looked at Nanami like a betrayed second wife.

“You heard all that,” he said, horrified.

Nanami ran a hand through his unstyled hair. “Every word.”

Gojo groaned and dropped his face into your lap—where the small skirt was riding up—like he was hoping the twins would kick him into unconsciousness. You didn’t move, just twirled the pen between your fingers.

Takahashi, still glaring, made a noise so pointed Gojo flinched.

You eyed the raccoon. “He still hasn’t forgiven you.”

Gojo sat up, affronted. “For what?! I bought him a custom stroller and three kinds of duck jerky.”

“He knows,” you said, voice grim. “About the Roomba incident.”

“I—what Roomba incident?!”

Nanami looked away, mouth twitching.

You grinned. “Ask him.”

Gojo turned slowly toward the raccoon. “Takahashi... what the fuck did I do to you?”

Takahashi hissed, lifted his tiny paw, and smacked a pebble directly at Gojo’s shin.

Gojo yelped. “Nanami. He assaulted me. Did you see that?”

Nanami did not reply. He was already texting Shoko:

Update: He said “fuck” again. Raccoon remains hostile.

A few minutes later, the koi pond gurgled softly, an ambient counterpoint to the rustling of the sakura trees in the artificial breeze. Takahashi had finally abandoned his rock-drowning ritual and was now perched indignantly on your lap, munching on treats that Nanami had brought him. His tiny claws gripped your hoodie like a spoiled gremlin, and he continued to stare daggers at Gojo, who was still battling a spiritual crisis over the revelation that you had memorized the subtle tints of his hair.

Nanami, seated beside you, calmly sipped his one-too-many-steps coffee in a black hoodie. His posture was relaxed, one arm draped along the back of the bench—casual yet protective. Unlike Gojo, who was fidgeting with his hair, Nanami’s golden eyes were trained on you in quiet scrutiny.

Despite the amusement, the teasing, and the absurdity of it all, Nanami had noticed something.

You kept flicking your gaze toward your phone. Not checking it, but looking at it. A single name sat at the top of your notifications, its call attempts ignored.

Nanami set down his drink, his expression shifting.

“You’re avoiding something.”

Your fingers, mid-scratch against Takahashi’s cream fur, twitched.

Gojo perked up, momentarily distracted from his vanity crisis. “Who’s calling?” He tilted his head, leaning in closer. “Need me to deal with it?”

“No.” You didn’t look at him. “It’s work.”

Nanami and Gojo exchanged glances behind you, their concern palpable.

Gojo, not one to miss an opportunity to be involved, pressed in close enough that you could feel the warmth of his large body radiating through his sweater. Nanami shifted slightly, exuding a more subtle but equally present support.

They waited.

Then suddenly, Takahashi’s snout was buried inside your hoodie.

Again.

Nanami, resigned, muttered something about “filing a complaint with the raccoon union.” Gojo, on the other hand, was actively trying to negotiate with the creature like a man desperate to de-escalate a hostage situation.

“Taka-baby,” Gojo cooed, hands held out as if soothing a small child—or a ticking bomb. “Buddy. Pal. My tiny, vicious fur-kin. Let’s not violate personal space—”

Takahashi growled.

You didn’t move. At this point, you were too pregnant, too emotionally drained, and too done to care that your mutant trash raccoon son was trying to breastfeed off your hoodie strings.

“Leave him,” you muttered, rubbing your temples. “He’s asserting dominance.”

Gojo looked genuinely wounded. “Over me?”

“Obviously,” Nanami said. “He considers you a threat to the mammary hierarchy.”

Gojo turned to you, his expression earnest. “Is that true? Am I not your number one anymore?”

You didn’t answer. Mostly because Takahashi had now crawled higher onto your chest, one clawed paw gripping the edge of your bra like he was about to sue for custody.

Nanami leaned forward slightly, and plucked the raccoon off you with a well-practiced scoop. “You are not a marsupial,” he muttered as Takahashi yowled indignantly, limbs flailing like a drunken toddler mid-tantrum.

“You try telling him that,” you muttered, slumping further into the bench. Your body ached. Your hormones were throwing raves. Your unborn twins were practicing jujutsu in your uterus. And somehow, you were also expected to be the face of a trillion-dollar empire with both your war criminal husbands lurking around like cursed Greek statues.

You exhaled, looking at the sky. “They want me to do an interview.”

Gojo blinked. “That’s it?”

“It’s for Vogue,” you added flatly.

Gojo’s eyes lit up. “Oh, you should definitely do it.”

You groaned.

Nanami exhaled slowly, his gaze drifting to the sky—the same way yours had moments ago. “It’s a PR move, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” you muttered, rubbing your temples. “The board thinks it’s necessary after someone ‘accidentally’ revealed our marriage, and now the internet is spiraling.”

Gojo leaned back with an exaggerated shrug. “Pfft. They’d have found out eventually.”

“They found out when you yelled about it in a public lobby and punched my employees,” you deadpanned.

Gojo pulled you into his chest, arms curling around you protectively. “I’m sorry, baby.”

Nanami, already massaging his forehead, turned his attention back to you, his tone gentler. “So why don’t you want to do it?”

You exhaled deeply. “Because I’m tired. I am seven months pregnant with your godforsaken body-horror twins. My feet hurt. My back hurts. My boobs—” You stopped yourself just in time—because Gojo’s horny ass would absolutely pounce on that. “—everything hurts. And the last thing I want is to sit under studio lights while some Vogue journalist who doesn’t know a single thing about the gaming industry asks me invasive questions about my uterus.”

Silence.

Then—“We could threaten them,” Gojo offered helpfully.

Nanami’s eyes slid shut. “We are not threatening Vogue.”

“Just a little threat?”

“No.”

Gojo pouted.

You sighed, shifting slightly. Their gazes were still on you—warm, patient, concerned. It made your throat feel tight.

Nanami set his coffee aside. Then, without a word, he reached for your hand, his fingers threading through yours with quiet ease.

“You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to,” he said simply.

Gojo, for once, nodded in agreement.

You swallowed. “But if I don’t, the PR backlash—”

“Will fade,” Nanami finished, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “It always does.”

Gojo tilted his head, a glint in his eyes. “And besides, if anyone gives you trouble, I can just…” He made a vague, ominous hand gesture.

Nanami shot him a warning look.

Gojo sighed dramatically. “Fine. I’ll let you handle the intimidation this time.”

That earned him an amused snort from you.

You stared down at your lap, feeling the weight of the moment. “I just… I never thought I’d be here.”

Gojo leaned in, feigning offense. “You mean married to us?”

“No,” you said, then hesitated. “I mean—yes, I was sure I’d die alone, but ya—” You gestured vaguely to your stomach. “This.”

Nanami’s grip tightened slightly, a silent reassurance.

Gojo’s expression flickered—just for a second—before he covered it with an easy grin. “Yeah,” he said, his voice lighter than his eyes. “Same.”

Nanami exhaled, his gaze darkening. “I never thought I’d live long enough to be a father.”

The weight of that statement hung in the air, heavy and unspoken. You didn’t miss it. Neither did Gojo.

Nanami had spent his whole life preparing for a death he assumed was inevitable. But he was still here. And now, he was bringing children into a world he never thought he’d see.

Gojo, for all his loud bravado, had spent just as long dreading fatherhood—not because he didn’t love you, but because he knew what happened to strong children. He had watched power be twisted, children turned into weapons. Even his own parents had let it happen.

He never wanted that.

And you—

You had never planned for kids. You had spent years building a life for yourself, crafting a future from scratch. You had worked too hard to be anything but untouchable.

They loved you. That had always been enough.

But here you were.

Nanami sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “I don’t know if I’ll be good at this.”

Gojo snorted. “You’re already a better dad than mine ever was.”

Nanami shot him a flat look. “That is a very low bar, Satoru.”

Gojo’s smirk faltered for half a second—just long enough for you to see the ghost of the boy his family discarded. Then the mask slid back into place. “I know,” he said, smirking again. After a pause, he nudged you with his shoulder. “You, though. You’re gonna be great.”

You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his words.

Gojo smiled, softer now, unexpectedly earnest. “I mean it.”

Nanami’s thumb swept over your knuckles—once, twice—a silent I’m here in Morse code. “So do I.”

The admission hung between you, fragile as the ice you’d been walking on since the pregnancy test.

“What if I—” Your voice cracked. “What if I turn into them? What if I get overwhelmed? I’m not good when I’m frustrated. I run away.” You muttered to yourself, the fear creeping in.

Nanami’s palm settled over your bump, warm. "You won’t become them." His tone was simple, absolute. "And if you need to leave, we’ll follow. Every time. If you need to scream, we’ll listen. That’s the difference between you and them—you’re afraid of becoming a monster. They never were."

Gojo’s knee bounced against yours, a subtle reminder that his support was there too. Nanami’s words were meant for him as well, just in a different way.

You bit your lip hard enough to taste copper, blinking against the sudden sting in your eyes.

Then—because tears were for people who hadn’t learned to swallow them by age six—you cleared your throat. “Names,” you croaked. “We should… talk about names.”

Gojo immediately perked up. “Megumi 2: the Electric Boogaloo—”

You turned to face him, raising an eyebrow. “I genuinely am fascinated by what goes on in that brain of yours.”

Nanami snorted, a hint of amusement breaking through his serious demeanor.

But Gojo was undeterred. “I vote for Satoru Jr.”

“No.”

“Absolutely not.”

Gojo pouted, crossing his arms.

Nanami tapped his fingers against yours. “Have you thought of any names?”

You hesitated, then a memory surfaced. “You remember when we were in Bora Bora?”

Gojo’s grin turned immediately smug. “You mean when we made them?”

Nanami rolled his eyes, though a faint blush crept up his neck beneath a hoodie.

You ignored him, focusing on the moment. “You mentioned something about names. You were joking, but… I liked them. They’ve been stuck in my head since I found out.”

Gojo perked up, curiosity piqued. “Oh? Lemme hear ‘em.”

“For the girl… Emi.”

Gojo blinked, a genuine smile spreading across his face. “That’s cute.”

Nanami nodded thoughtfully. “It suits her.”

“And the boy…” You frowned, thinking. Then—“Kaito.”

Something passed between them—an unspoken understanding.

Nanami hummed. “Emi and Kaito.” He rolled the names over his tongue. “I like it.”

Gojo grinned. “Me too.”

For a moment, the air felt lighter, filled with the warmth of shared dreams.

Then, just as you were about to lean into the warmth of the moment—

Nanami’s phone buzzed.

He sighed, checking the caller ID. Then he turned the screen toward Gojo.

Gojo took one look, then groaned, throwing his head back. “Ughhh. What do they want now?”

“They want you back at Jujutsu Tech.”

“To take over?”

Nanami just smirked, a predatory glint in his eyes.

Gojo’s smirk widened. “Mm. Seems they’re short on leadership.”

Ah.

Nanami leaned back, crossing his arms. “How tragic.”

Gojo stretched lazily. “Very. Wonder what happened to the old higher-ups?”

Nanami didn’t even blink. “I hear they suffered sudden, unexpected deaths.”

Gojo tsked. “How unfortunate.”

Nanami had just barely deposited the shrieking, wriggling raccoon onto the grass when Takahashi made a desperate break for your chest again—his pink, suspiciously sharp little nose twitching. The moment Nanami’s hands loosened, he leapt up your shin like a furry Terminator with mommy issues, clambering with singular purpose toward your boobs.

Gojo instinctively caught the beast mid-flight, cradling him like a furious child mid-tantrum.

“Hey—hey now,” he coaxed, trying not to flinch as Takahashi bared tiny teeth. “We’ve talked about this, okay? You are not… lactating adjacent. You’re a raccoon, not a breast enthusiast.”

Takahashi hissed, as if he paid rent on your mammary glands and Gojo was the eviction notice.

You just leaned back again, dead behind the eyes, letting your hoodie fall askew like a white flag.

“Just let him do what he needs to do,” you mumbled, exhaustion creeping in.

Gojo blinked, concern etched on his face. “Baby. He’s trying to suckle.”

“I know.”

Nanami—knees bent, watching Takahashi like a predator tracking a flightless bird—sighed deeply, rubbed his temples, and muttered under his breath, “There’s no HR department in hell, but I will build one.”

The absurdity of it all might’ve cracked you into laughter if you weren’t currently a pillow for both a trash mammal and two cursed womb roommates. Instead, you stared blankly at your phone again, then at the koi pond. You could see your reflection—dark circles, swollen ankles, faint mascara smudge like an exhausted raccoon queen. So maybe that’s why Takahashi liked you. Trauma recognized trauma.

Gojo sat back down beside you, the raccoon still in his lap like a protestor demanding equal access to boobs. His voice was soft this time. “You’ve really given up, huh?”

“I gave up the moment I started arguing with a raccoon about personal space and lost,” you replied, a hint of bitterness creeping into your tone.

Nanami didn’t laugh. He only moved to take the phone from your lap, reading the notifications with his usual detached efficiency. After a beat, he said, “It’s your CHRO again. Third time today.”

“She’s just worried,” you murmured, brushing a hand against your bump. “She keeps sending me articles about postpartum depression. And nannies. And how all the rich people are freezing their embryos now.”

Gojo raised a brow. “Kinda late for that.”

Nanami didn’t speak for a moment. Then: “Do you want a nanny?”

You stared ahead, watching the koi gather, waiting for food and your hand absentmindedly moved to turn on the automatic feeder. “I don’t know.”

Gojo leaned forward, his voice quieter. “You don’t have to know yet.”

“No, I should,” you snapped, a little sharper than intended. Takahashi perked up, looking offended.

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. “I keep thinking about the delivery. About holding them for the first time and just… not feeling anything.”

There it was. The raw thought. The fear that made your chest tighten every time the twins kicked. What if the hormones didn’t fix it? What if you resented them? What if the damage was already done before you even met them?

Nanami’s voice was low, grounded. “That’s not unusual.”

Gojo tilted his head, his expression softening. “My mom left right after I was born. Didn’t even name me.” He gave you a crooked, fragile smile. “You already care more than she did.”

“That’s not a high bar,” you rubbed his back, trying to keep the conversation light.

Nanami, without fanfare, placed a hand on your knee. “We’re not measuring you against ghosts.”

“But I’m still afraid,” you said, and you weren’t even sure who you were saying it to. Yourself, maybe.

They were both quiet, but present. Gojo reached up and gently scratched behind Takahashi’s ears, whispering nonsense in a sugar-sweet voice until the raccoon flopped over, utterly seduced by Gojo’s baby talk.

Then, unexpectedly, Nanami said, “I think I’ll be the strict one.”

Gojo turned to him, grinning. “You are the strict one.”

“I mean with them,” Nanami said, glancing at your stomach. “The twins.”

Gojo scoffed. “Yeah, and I’ll be the cool one.”

“You can’t even get Takahashi to stop motorboating her chest.”

“I could if you’d let me use the squirt bottle!”

They fell into harmless bickering again, but you didn’t interrupt. You let it carry you like a tide, like static, as you watched the sun make silhouettes of the koi beneath the water. Then—

“I’m afraid I’ll ruin them,” you said softly, and everything fell silent again.

Gojo didn’t joke. Nanami didn’t analyze. They just sat with you in the hush of the garden, the koi pond gurgling like the world’s softest metronome.

“You won’t,” Nanami said, his voice steady.

“But what if I do?”

Gojo exhaled slowly, leaning in, resting his chin on your shoulder, even as Takahashi reclaimed your belly like it was his emotional support trampoline. “Then we’ll fix it. Together. You’re not doing this alone. Even if I die, I’ll haunt you like a friendly titty ghost.”

You didn’t laugh.

But the tears came.

Hot. Quiet. Infuriating.

You wiped them away quickly, but not quickly enough.

Nanami was already pressing a clean handkerchief into your palm. Of course he was.

“I’m not ready,” you whispered, leaning on his chest instead as he rubbed soothing circles on your back.

“None of us are,” Gojo said gently. “That’s the point.”

“You always talk like that,” you mumbled through the fabric. “Like failed therapists who fuck.”

Gojo beamed. “I should take Maya’s job. I’d be so much better at it.”

Nanami, finally letting the smile tug at the edge of his mouth, leaned back and gave you that look. The one that said he was tired, too. That he was also scared. That he understood.

“I think being ready means you’ve stopped caring if you fail,” he said quietly. “We care too much. That’s the only reason we’ll make it.”

And that?

That almost made it okay.

Almost.

Then Takahashi climbed halfway up your chest again and screamed into your ear like a traumatized siren.

Gojo clapped once. “Okay! Time for someone to go into his designer stroller!”

Nanami scooped the raccoon up with the dead-eyed efficiency of a man who'd once done this with cursed spirits. “Your tyranny ends here, Takahashi.”

You slumped against the bench with a long sigh as Gojo pressed a kiss to your temple. “Wanna go lie down, baby?”

“Only if neither of you talk for an hour.”

Gojo looked like he was physically restraining himself from a joke.

Nanami stood, already hauling the raccoon like a sack of rice. “Deal.”

You let them help you up—awkward, slow, heavy with children and fatigue. But also, you didn’t feel like you were walking alone.

There were hands under your arms.

There were men arguing over stroller brakes.

There was a raccoon making increasingly sexual-sounding threats in a baby voice.

And somehow, it was enough.

---

When you woke up, your penthouse was quiet—well, as quiet as it could be with a three-month-old raccoon tearing through the room like he had declared war on gravity.

Takahashi was currently engaged in a one-sided battle with the corner of your gaming chair, gnawing on the fabric like his life depended on it. His tiny claws scrabbled against the polished floor, his pink eyes gleaming with mischief. Maybe in another universe, he’d be Sukuna’s vessel.

You scratched his fluffy head absentmindedly, sprawled on the couch with a blanket draped over your legs. Your back ached, your feet were swollen, and your belly felt like it was carrying two baby kaiju instead of actual human children. But you were fine. Really.

It wasn’t like you cared that your husbands were currently on the other side of the room, laughing at something you didn’t understand.

Gojo was draped over the arm of Nanami’s chair, laughing so hard he was practically wheezing, while Nanami—Nanami, the man who rarely showed amusement outside of private moments—had his forehead resting in one hand, shoulders shaking with laughter.

You frowned.

You hadn’t been ignoring them, per se—you were just letting them enjoy themselves. But something about it felt… weird. Like you were watching them from behind glass.

You nudged Cloud Save, who chattered at you before rolling onto his back and promptly falling off the couch.

Gojo wiped at his eyes, still breathless. “God, I haven’t laughed that hard in ages—”

Then he saw your face.

The laughter dimmed. Not completely—Gojo never stopped radiating chaotic energy—but enough that he was watching you now.

Nanami followed his gaze, his expression smoothing into something unreadable. “What’s wrong?”

You blinked. “Nothing.”

Gojo tilted his head, still upside down over the chair arm. “Mmm, liar.”

You rolled your eyes and turned back to Clout Save, who had now discovered the joys of burrowing into your blanket.

“It’s not a big deal,” you muttered. “You were just laughing about something I didn’t get.”

Gojo was immediately next to you, leaning against the couch, his chin resting on your shoulder. “Oh, baby,” he cooed. “Did we make you feel left out?”

You shoved his face away. “No. I don’t care.”

Nanami sat on the other side of the couch, his hand resting lightly on your knee. “It was just a reference to something from our school days. We didn’t mean to exclude you.”

Yes, definitely, by speaking in that rapid-fire traditional Japanese, you were still not a hundred percent sure you understood.

Gojo looped an arm around your waist and pressed his forehead against your temple. “You sure you don’t care?”

You could feel the warmth of them—Gojo’s body heat, Nanami’s steady presence, the weight of their attention.

And… maybe you had felt a little distant. Not because of them, but because your brain had been tangled in a mess of hormones and exhaustion and impending motherhood.

You sighed, relenting just a little. “I was just happy to see you both relax. That’s all.”

Gojo blinked, his grin softening.

Nanami’s fingers traced soothing circles on your knee.

“You’re an idiot,” Gojo announced fondly.

You kicked him in the shin.

He yelped, and Takahashi took that as his cue to launch himself at Gojo’s face.

Nanami exhaled heavily. “I am going to pretend I didn’t see that.”

Gojo, now wrestling the raccoon, just grinned up at you. “Love you, too, babe.”

---

Kashimo found another tracker.

---

“You ever get tired of pretending to be normal?” Sukuna asked.

His voice was flat, but something about the way he flexed his jaw at the end made Choso pause mid-game. The screen glared white-hot into his face—another kill. He didn't turn around yet.

“I’m not pretending,” Choso muttered, clicking reload. “This is normal. You’re the one who picks fights with a CHRO at 3 AM because she screened your calls.”

Sukuna scoffed, leaning back into the expensive imported leather couch like a king growing bored of his court. He was shirtless, his tattoos stretching and disappearing into low-slung black joggers, barefoot and annoyed. “The woman isn’t just screening me. She’s fucking toying with me. Like some middle-management Riko clone who thinks I’ll fold if she says ‘no’ three times in a polite tone.”

“She probably doesn’t want you around her boss,” Choso pointed out. “If you’re calling her “small” before a hello, maybe she’s got a point.”

"I'm fed up, Choso." His voice was gravel-thick, simmering.

Choso didn’t turn from his game. “Why.”

Sukuna rubbed at his temple like the question itself was giving him a migraine. “Why is she so hard to reach? And why is she still with those two idiots?”

He exhaled, head tilting back over the couch, exposing the sharp lines of his throat and collarbone—his hair unkempt, black with a dark-red undercast, temple scars mostly faded but still there, like someone had tried to erase a god and failed.

“Her CHRO keeps blocking me. I offered a full tech overhaul, guaranteed stock recovery, even hinted I’d dump eleven figures into the company. Nothing. Silence. Just polite corporate fuck-you silence.”

“She’s probably got real skills,” Choso muttered, not even looking. “Not nepo. Probably doesn’t trust powerful men. I wouldn’t, if I were her.”

Yuji was outside yelling at Junpei not to put slugs on his Balenciagas.

Sukuna’s lips curled. “It’s not that. That company’s built like a fortress—not around money. Around her. They’ll chat for hours if you don’t mention the CEO, but the moment you even imply her name, they clam up like I said a slur.”

He’d tried everything. Cold calls to ex-employees, old investors, even friendly clients. Each one folded the moment he probed into the personal life of the CEO—the mysterious, currently-on-maternity-leave tech empress whose very mention made the air change. Whose existence had started gnawing at his brain like a parasite.

“I don’t get it,” Choso said. “Why her? Why are you spiraling?”

Sukuna's eyes narrowed at the back of Choso’s head. The kind of look that once preceded mass bloodshed. Choso paused his game and finally turned.

“It’s a real question,” he said. “You’re not sleeping. You’re skipping meals. You’re watching her old keynotes like a divorced ghost.”

Sukuna didn’t answer for a long moment. His throat worked, and then:

“It feels like... like I already knew her. Like I already had a life with her. A full one. Long. Loud. Domestic. I remember the feeling of carrying her to bed after she fainted, barefoot on cold tile. I remember arguing in airports. I remember her laugh, post-orgasm. I remember twins that never made it past the month she’s in now.”

He looked down at his hands. Still weapons, no matter how well-manicured. “I’m not even sure they were mine.”

Choso blinked. “Sounds like a curse.”

Sukuna glared. “No one alive is strong enough to curse me.”

“Then what? Hormonal imbalance? Constipation? You are pushing 40—”

Sukuna's phone rang, cutting him off.

The caller ID read: DO NOT KILL

He picked up, not bothering to mask the venom. “Finally returning my calls, bitch.”

Choso flinched and pointed to his temple. Don’t call women bitches, he mouthed.

Sukuna rolled his eyes and mouthed back at him; she made my life hell.

“Listen to me, Yorozu. I didn’t plant you in there so you could play therapy godmother. I don’t care if they’re ‘finding their way back to each other.’ You want Kashimo? Earn it. Drive. A. Wedge.”

He ended the call with a tap, knuckles white around the phone. The cityscape stretched infront of him—Osaka lights, thick humid air, his house glass glinting like a warning.

Choso stared. “You are…?”

“She was already obsessed. I just… redirected it.”

“You’re trying to destroy her marriage.”

“I’m trying to see her.” Sukuna said it like it hurt. “You don’t get it. There’s something... left over. Not obsession. Not lust. Something—ancient. And I don’t even want to be in love. I just... I remember being hers.”

A beat.

“And I don’t know if she remembers me.” He exhaled.

Choso’s expression softened. “Maybe she does,” he said thoughtfully, his gaze drifting to the newspaper. “At least our efforts to take out those who tried to go after the bounty on her head counts for something. Maybe that’s why she’s hiding.”

Before Sukuna could respond, the front door opened.

Yuji walked in holding a jar of pickles. Junpei followed, looking suspiciously damp.

“Are we out of ice cream?” Yuji asked.

“I think Junpei fed it to the frogs,” Choso said.

Junpei shrugged. “He looked like he was going through something.”

“Same,” Sukuna muttered.

---

Later That Night – A Secure Line in Tokyo

Megumi hung up the encrypted phone.

“He’s getting closer,” he muttered.

Across from him, Haibara Yu tilted his head and smiled like a cat watching a mouse forget it’s being watched.

“Let him try,” Haibara said. “If he gets through, I’ll kill him with kindness. Or something sharper.”

“Don’t kill him,” Megumi said.

Haibara’s eyes gleamed.

“Yet.”

---

A week later

“Shit, she’s going into cardiac arrest.”

“Fucking move over.” Shoko pushed the RN.

Gojo rages at doctors for answers, while Nanami methodically signs consent forms with shaking hands.

They have to choose between maternal DNR orders or sacrificing the twins.

A/N: So like. Which part emotionally decapitated you the most: The haori? Nanami’s mango dissection? (something is coming next up with the mangoes trust me.) Gojo saying “I’ll get us all pregnant”? Why is Maya hotter than 80% of men in this fic? Does Gojo deserve forgiveness yet, or should we launch #PregnantInPradaAndPetty? Who deserves to suffer the most in the next chapter for their crimes against you? Gojo "Voice Actor Fraud" Satoru Nanami "My Face Is Her Favorite Food" Kento Haibara "Better Than You" Yu Megumi "Toji 2.0 With Access to Stock Options" Fushiguro Maya "I'm in your walls" Daddy Sukuna "Your wife calls me daddy too" Ryomen Tell me which part made you laugh, which made you cry, and which part made you want to punch Maya in the throat or marry her. COMMENTS FEED ME. Or I will send Kashimo in wet mode to your house. 🩸 Also since you can see I updated the ships, CHRO & thirsty Lawyer incoming in the next chapter, (it's mostly ready so should be here soon.) And yes, Cloud Save will get his POV soon. Probably while eating drywall.

Next Chapter 22 (alt ending 2.13) - Things Broken Are Still Yours - Part 1 - (Tumblr/Ao3)

A spin-off Crack series in the same AU - (Tumblr/Ao3)

All Works Masterlist

Beta - @blackrimmedrose

Tag-list = @lady-of-blossoms @stargirl-mayaa @dark-agate @tqd4455 @roscpctals99 @sxlfcxst @se-phi-roth @austisticfreak @helloxkittylo @itoshi-r @kodzukensworld @revolvinggeto @luringfantasy @xx-tazzdevil-xx @unaaasz @thebumbqueen @holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni @whos-ruru @helo1281917

[tenderwatches]

Ch. 36 of Lies We Tell Ourselves is up!

𐡸.:𐫱:.𐡷

chapter teaser

𐡸.:𐫱:.𐡷

chapter excerpt

Chapter 36: Pain Gathering Its Things

“I wondered if that was how forgiveness budded; not with the fanfare of epiphany, but with pain gathering its things, packing up and slipping away unannounced in the middle of the night.” - Khaled Hosseini, The Kite Runner

When Ekko removes the blindfold from his face, it takes a moment of stunned blinking for Jayce to take stock of exactly where he’s landed. The first thing that strikes him about the space is the light. This far down in the Undercity, darkness is all he can imagine. Here, though, is a small oasis. Light breaks through, fragile as silk. It warms a room full of dilapidated houses.

The dwellings here, like much of the Undercity, are makeshift, but colour and life smooth the edges, making them seem less haphazard and more personal. Illuminated by a warm shaft of sunlight, this place feels inhabited; it has an enchanted quality, as if Jayce has stumbled into a secret clearing in the heart of the city of iron and glass.

The air quality here is a revelation; after the smothering journey down, he takes a deep, even breath, trying to shake off the murky taste of soot that still clings to his tongue. He understands why Ekko guards it so well. What would people sacrifice to have a place like this? For all that there is a thriving community here, it’s more like Jayce has wandered into a vital organ, something necessary and life-giving, but also tragically fragile.

What would it take to destroy this? A single selfish person? One violent impulse?

The notion sends a chill up his spine as a gaggle of children run past him, shrieking with laughter as they chase a gadfly from one muddy pond to another.

Beside him, Ekko chats in hushed tones with a tall Chirean man. Jayce’s arrival has attracted enough attention that he spies faces peering down from the myriad decks that spiral like a beehive towards the sunlight above. He can’t begrudge them their suspicions, having now seen what they have in contrast to the darkness and squalor of the city around them.

He wonders how many of them know his face, have seen it looking down at them with a superior, faraway expression, promising progress that will never touch them.

‘You’ve done what you can to correct things’, he recalls Heimerdinger saying from a conversation that feels like it took place aeons ago—an absolution too easily offered, a comfortable lie that asks nothing more of him. Just as he asserted to his mentor then, though, he needs to stop cycling the drain of his own self-actualisation if he wants to do more.

Jayce takes in deep, even breaths, enjoying clean air that feels like an indulgence, trying to cling to the promise he made to Viktor: to do better, to be better than he has in the past. He can’t change what he’s done—or rather, what he hasn’t done. What matters is what he can do now.

He’s not here to tour the place—he’s here to check on the progress with Rio, follow up on the supplies he and Viktor provided, and report back on Ekko and his Firelights’ additional needs. Doing that work serves these people much better than him standing in their home, agonising over past shortcomings.

Jayce has also given his word to Ekko, promising to take a strictly business approach to being permitted entry. And besides, he assured a sleepy, soft Viktor still swaddled in his bedsheets this morning that he would take Ekko’s lead on how to conduct himself.

Ekko, for his part, looks tired. He rubs a hand over his face, the gesture thoughtlessly smearing the painted white shape across it. “Alright,” he mutters, his tone belying what must have been a less-than-satisfactory conversation with his fellow Firelight. “We have to make this quick. I have an issue with the water filtration system to look at before I end up with a lot of thirsty people.”

Jayce nods in response before he pauses, biting his cheek to consider if it will be an offence to ask before he offers softly. “Anything… I can help with?”

Ekko looks stunned at him for a moment before huffing a slightly disbelieving breath. “Not going to be clean work in a posh lab.” He mutters in response, his shoulder tucked up towards his chin, a mix of defiance and perhaps a little defensiveness. Jayce wonders why, if he can assure him that this work isn’t beneath him without sounding patronising.

“I… grew up in the family forge well before I ever landed my place in Bluewind. It’s… not crawling through the sumps, sure, but I’m not afraid of dirt and hard work. You can fill me in and have an extra pair of hands to fix the issue at the same time,” he offers, trying for casual but suddenly hopeful that his help will be welcome, accepted. Proving to these people, and perhaps to himself as well, that he respects the labour they have to do in order to live feels oddly important to him.

Ekko still hesitates, teeters on the edge of welcoming the help, like he’s expecting a trap. The answer jolts through his brain like a firecracker. What has he learnt from working so closely with Viktor, from falling in love with the man? How often have they tripped over this very hurdle in their own relationship? The bone-deep fear instilled in the people down here that all kindness is a contract.

At this point, how does Ekko view the balance of their scales? He’s helped save Jayce and Viktor, both in their stumbling around the Undercity; he’d helped with stealing Rio and housing her here; he’d been working diligently on if she could be stabilised, even going so far as bending his morals to work in tandem with a girl he clearly holds in contempt. In return he and Viktor are helping to understand the Arcane’s impact on his tree and providing Ekko’s people with critical supplies. If he looks at this with the kind of accounting he’s come to understand is often survival in this place, then they still owe Ekko.

“Come on, we owe you more than a couple of crates of medicine after all your help.” He offers in what he hopes is a casual tone. Ekko’s eyes narrow slightly, his head tipping to the side like he’s working through a problem, the gesture causing the metal loc cuffs he wears to clack together softly. He tugs the red bandana around his throat twice in a thoughtful gesture, tapping the toe of one scuffed boot against the ground.

There is an energy to him that Jayce recognises from himself as a young man—quick-minded, clever and eager to act. Where Jayce’s gentle life turned those gifts towards chasing his dreams, however, Ekko’s mind has been honed into a sharper weapon. This quality reminds Jayce of Viktor, deeply practical to the core, but there’s still something like an idealist in this young man. Jayce wonders if Ekko will ever be allowed to embrace that—or, maybe he already does, but Jayce is simply too strange an interloper for Ekko to let his guard down enough to share.

Whatever the case, he seems willing enough to let Jayce try. Ekko’s shoulders drop from their tight defensive posture, the fight going out of the moment. Ekko sighs and beckons for Jayce to follow.

“Fine, but don’t start poking at things without my say-so.” They cut a clean path across the concrete slab that serves as a town square, making their way to a murky machine rattling loud enough to make the ground tremble.

Jayce feels a small flare of defensiveness at the insinuation he can’t figure out a simple filtration system, but swallows it down. His expertise has often been a shield he’s hidden behind, and it’s a reflexive urge to list his accomplishments when challenged. He nearly opens his mouth to mention his historical achievement as the youngest sponsored apprentice in Piltover’s history, but catches himself.

Though Jayce could be much more than an extra pair of hands if allowed, he follows Ekko’s instructions with deliberate humility. He doesn’t need the lesson on the mechanics of a filtration system, but he’s learning another skill here: to let people like Ekko lead.

(Read the rest on AO3!)(Or start from the beginning!)

[irradiatedsnakes]

one of my genuine hopes for the pnf reboot is that if biff is at all featured he gets an actual, real tank (or better, a pond).. fishbowls aren't suitable for any fish by a longshot but goldfish are MASSIVE fish as far as ones kept as pets go- common goldfish like biff likely is grow to over a foot long, and even among fish their size they produce a RIDICULOUS amount of waste and as such need incredibly heavy-duty filtration systems. goldfish tend to be much better pond fish than they do tank fish.

especially because buford adores biff so much, of course he'd want to give him the biggest, best home!

and yes, i know, it's a goldfish in a cartoon. but i think it's really important to show proper care for fish and other pets in shows, especially those aimed at children. lots of goldfish, bettas, and other common pet fish live short, miserable lives in tiny, unsuitable homes, and i think tv shows and other popular media depicting proper habitats can go a long way in making more suitable homes the norm, you know?

[thespiritssaidso]

A Fish By Any Other Name

Summary: Lassiter is very proud of his Koi pond, and gives it the utmost care and attention. Shawn also loves his boyfriend’s Koi pond, especially when it comes to naming them. Even though Lassiter isn’t too thrilled about the names Shawn comes up with. 

Notes: once again, a conversation that was had in the psychos discord inspired this oneshot. Enjoy! 

Flufftober day 16: Yes, No, Maybe

—————

Lassiter kneeled beside the large koi pond and tugged on a large pair of clean rubber gloves. Once he was sure they were secure, he grabbed the small skimmer. Carefully, he scooped up leaves and other debris that had fallen into the water. He was very cautious not to accidentally net his curious fish as he cleared away the pond surface. Once that was done, Lassiter dumped the debris he’d acquired off to the side. 

Then, he set the net aside and grabbed his pruning shears in one hand, sifting through the pond greenery with the other. 

It was maintenance day, the day that came once a week, to help keep Lassiter’s precious Koi pond alive and intact. Every Saturday, on the dot, he would wake up and immediately go outside to care for the small ecosystem set up in his backyard. He loved keeping up with it, as it gave him something to do during otherwise empty weekends. 

As his hand glided through the clean water, one of the koi ��� pure white with a black mask covering its face — swam up and brushed against it a few times before swimming away. 

Lassiter smiled to himself, and continued to sift through the lilies and eelgrass. Soon enough he found a dead spot and quickly pruned it, tossing the yellowed piece over his shoulder onto the little pile of debris from earlier as he moved on to the next plant.

Kois, despite popular belief, weren’t just dumb fish. Technically, all fish weren’t dumb. Yes, they lacked the ability to love, but that didn’t stop Lassiter’s koi from swimming up to him every morning he came out to feed them, or whenever he needed to do some routine maintenance on their home. 

He snipped at the last dead stem, and flung it into the small pile behind him. 

Standing on his knees he shuffled over to the filtration system. He opened it, and checked for any debris. Thankfully, it was all minimal, so he was able to slide it back in and move on to his next task. 

He plunged his hands deeper into the water and located the water pump sticking out the side of the pond. As he did, more koi swam up to him, flashes of white and orange and black and even a smudge of red swirled around his yellow glove. They brushed against his arm before flitting off once more, only to come back and do it all again. 

It was difficult, but Lassiter managed to ignore them and felt around the pump, making sure it wasn’t clogged. If it was, then it would stop up the small waterfall and the water wouldn’t be as oxygenated as it should be. But thankfully there wasn’t anything stopping it up, so he pulled back and sat on his haunches. 

Peeling off his gloves, Lassiter reached into his pocket and grabbed a testing strip. This would let him see the pH, oxygen, ammonia, nitrate, lead, copper, iron, and zinc levels. All of said chemicals were on standby just in case any of it was too low. 

Just as he was about to dip the strip into the pond-

“Carlyyyyy!” 

Lassiter startled, nearly dropping the strip into the water. Thankfully, he kept his grip tight on it, and it stayed right in his hand where it was supposed to be. However, he fell backwards and landed on his ass a bit roughly. 

Taking a breath to calm his racing heart, he shouted back, “Yes?” 

The back door opened, and out stepped Shawn. “I thought of a name for the third one!” Excitedly, he speed-walked over to the pond where his boyfriend sat. 

Lassiter raised his eyebrows at Shawn’s statement. 

Just earlier that day, he’d gone out to get two more koi from the breeder he got his others from. It was what he did every time he got new fish. Never just one, always two. 

Koi were very social, and best bought in pairs. Lassiter had done extensive research on them so he could provide the best home. He named his first two Smith and Wesson, then the next two Clint and Eastwood. 

Around the time he got the next two koi he’d started dating Shawn and had him move in. Of course he’d somehow convinced Lassiter to name them Tiny and Chonky. Neither of the koi lived up to their names. Tiny was the biggest Koi in his pond, reaching 3 feet and 2 inches in length, a beautiful white in color with a red spot on the head, while Chonky was the smallest at a mere 2 and a half feet, pure orange with flecks of black all over. 

This time around, however, the breeder only had three koi left. If he’d bought two, then he’d be leaving the other one all alone for who knows how long. And if he’d only bought one it would still be by itself, swimming in the indoor tank until it grew big enough to be released into the outdoor pond. 

So Lassiter caved and bought all three of them. Which meant now he was in a bit of a bind, seeing as how he’d only prepared two names — Saber and Bayonet — for the new koi. Which meant the third one was nameless for the time being. Which meant that Shawn had taken it upon himself to ‘psychically read’ the third koi and come up with a name for it. 

Turning back to the pond, Lassiter dipped the test strip into the water and began to hold it still as the water changed the small colored tabs. “Oh? What is it?”

Shawn was now standing right next to him. “Destroyer.” 

Lassiter’s brain short-circuited. He wasn’t serious, was he? Then again, he did name two of the fish Chonky and Tiny. While also pondering out loud the names Crunch and Wrap, along with Nuke and Tank. 

He shook his head. “No. No. No-”

“Oh come on, Carly! It’s the perfect name!” 

Lassiter turned to fully face him, making sure the testing strip stayed in the water. “Shawn. Really? Destroyer?” 

“Yes! It’s a great name! And don’t worry, I already asked what Destroyer thinks of it. Two fins up!”

“No.” 

“Yes.” 

“No.” 

“…Maybe?”

Oh god. He was doing the puppy eyes now. Lassiter knew he could only resist for so long. Still, he tried his best, going as far as to turn away again and focus on the finished testing strip, pulling it out of the water and holding it up to the chart. 

But he couldn’t focus, Lassiter could practically feel Shawn’s eyes on him, begging. 

And eventually, he caved. “Fine. Destroyer it is.” 

Shawn whooped, startling the koi innocently swimming in the pond. 

“Careful!” 

“Ah, sorry!”

—————

Notes: Guys can you tell i love them sosososo much

ao3 link

[xbunnybunz]

therefore i; therefore i, therefore i- (10/10) [AM X Reader]

Summary: in which: AM becomes your lover in an increasingly skewed blur of reality, nightmares, and dreamscapes.

you know. for halloween.

Genre: Psychological Horror, Thriller, Romance

When the morning comes, someone wakes from a restful sleep and what may have been a seemingly endless dream. They feel well-rested and sore at the same time, and they think that perhaps they had a rather fitful night. But they cannot recall nightmares of any sort, and so they shrug it off, the concern dissipating into morning air like dew.

They pass by the window and find that there is a commotion happening outside, so they prepare for the day and head downstairs to investigate.

Upon arriving at the scene, they hear all sorts of conversation. “What could have caused this?” “The filtration system stopped working, they said.” “But it’s been fine for all these years…” “Did the workers find anything in it…?”

No one seems to notice someone’s arrival. There are a few men in orange vests standing by the rocky edge of the waters, some bare-handed and other more important-looking ones holding clipboards. They’re discussing something that is out of earshot, but there is gesturing towards the pond.

Curiously, someone looks toward the pond. The waters are unusually stagnant today, and the ripples are uncharacteristically calm. 

The filtration system is, in fact, stuck, they concluded. But perhaps this is not a terrible thing. When examining the greenish-blue hue of the pond, someone notices the flotsam atop the water, impossible to form when water runs freely, a biofilm is forming. A living collection of pastel-painted algae blooms, blooming in a mosaic of blues and pinks and purples.

[alister312]

i feel like i haven’t made a gregstophe thing in while…. losing my gregstophe cred so here’s some hobby headcanons!!

Gregory is definitely a journaler. He started some time in elementary or middle school with the hopes of leaving behind a fantastic historical record but as he grew up, he realized that was a bit unrealistic. He kept the habit though, as it’s a good way to relax and keep his mind sharp. Usually he uses very nice leather-bound notebooks because he likes the aesthetic and how they look on the shelf when he’s filled them. Sometimes he’ll go and read them, especially if he needs a pick me up and wants a good memory. At one point he considered turning them into a memoir but realized that a lot of stuff he’d written about him doing was illegal or would put him under a lot of scrutiny (revolutionary life) so the journals are just for him.

While Gregory likes the idea of pets in theory, I don’t think he’s huge fan of the mess they end up making everywhere (he’s already got one creature in his house making things messy, he really can’t handle a second one lol). However, because of that, he’d be really drawn to fish! He’d have a huge tank with all sorts of plants floating on top, lots of colorful fish, a complex filtration system, etc. If/When he and Christophe get a house, he’d really push for a koi pond just so he has more fish to look after. Christophe agrees because he thinks Gregory’s fish are cool even though he doesn’t understand why they can’t just live in a bowl and be given fish flakes.

He tries hard to pretend he isn’t, but Gregory is definitely into rich upperclass people sports like like pickleball and golf. He grew up playing them with his family so there’s a bit of nostalgia involved in it. Christophe teases Gregory whenever he tries to casually suggest that they go play for a little bit, just for fun. Usually Gregory has to convince someone else to go with him (often Tolkien who has a similar nostalgia-based interest in playing).

Christophe is really into gardening and plant care (shocker lol). When he was a kid he got yelled at a lot for digging up the yard, so he would replant stuff to try and make the lectures just a bit less intense. It was also a good excuse as to why he was coming in covered with dirt or why there was dirt all over his floor. Eventually he started doing it because he liked it, not just for the excuse. Sometimes he tries crossbreeding plants but mostly he just grows them as they are.

While Christophe would never go to a regular gym, he does go to a boxing gym. He wants to keep himself in good fighting conditions for obvious mercenary reasons and he feels like just having a real sparring partner is much better than a punching bag. It’s one of the few places where he’s got a number of people he’s friendly with since he’s literally required to interact with people. Despite that, Christophe kind of latches onto the few people he found he liked at the beginning (like Tweek).

From whittling to sculpting, Christophe really likes making things with his hands. Initially it was something to pass the time like when sitting around with a knife so he picks up a stick, or finding clay while digging and making a little thing. He also likes putting together random bits of trash he has. Gregory keeps close track of his paper clips because there’s a good chance if Christophe sees them lying around he will twist them into something else, rendering them unusable. He displays all the mangled paper clip creations on his desk though, as well as other things Christophe makes because he thinks they’re nice.

[thatpondguyuk]

An In-Depth Guide to Drum Filters for Koi Ponds

Explore the ultimate guide to drum filters for koi ponds. Learn about their benefits, advanced features, maintenance, and why they are the ideal choice for superior water clarity and koi health.

Koi pond enthusiasts often seek advanced filtration systems to ensure their ponds remain clean, clear, and conducive to their koi’s health. One filter type that consistently stands out for its innovation and effectiveness is the Rotary Drum Filter, often simply called the Drum Filter. Renowned as the pinnacle of mechanical filtration, drum filters are a must-have for serious koi keepers. In this…

[aquabead]

Do You Need a Pond Pump for Filter Systems in Your Aquatic Ecosystem?

What are the differences between pond filtration and pump systems? Pond pumps do not serve the same function as filters when it comes to maintaining an aquatic ecosystem. A pond pump for filter circulates water throughout your pond to maintain adequate oxygenation and circulation; on the other hand, pump draws out excess water from within it before pushing it back through filtration or waterfall system for water clarity maintenance and supporting wildlife populations.

Both components play essential roles when maintaining healthy aquatic ecosystem health: as pond pump for filter circulate water throughout your pond to maintain oxygenation/flow while pumps draw water out from within its confines to filter impurities/harmful substances from its ecosystem both are integral in keeping aquatic wildlife alive whereas filters filter impurities from its aquatic environment while filters designed remove impurities/harmful substances out from its ecosystem — both serving different functions that ensure overall wellbeing.

Do I require both a pump and filter for my pond(s)?

In order to maintain an eco-friendly ecosystem in pond(s), both are strongly encouraged. A pond pump for filter circulates water throughout, oxygenating your ecosystem. Regular passage through a filter also removes excess nutrients as well as debris — although smaller ponds may operate successfully without one; larger or those housing multiple inhabitants would likely benefit more from having both systems to ensure healthy water for plants and fish alike.

What type of pump would best suit a 1,000-litre pond?

A pond pump for filter capable of flowing 1000 to 2000 litres an hour should provide adequate circulation and filtering without overburdening its ecosystem. At least once each hour it should also turn over volume by turning it backwards so as to maintain oxygen levels while spreading heat evenly around. When selecting an outlet height difference (filter or waterfall), consider its effect on performance for best results — in keeping a healthy aquatic ecosystem alive and kicking! The right size pump is essential.

What is the Best Approach for Filtering Pondwater?

What type of filter would work well in my pond or ponds?

This will depend on several factors including size, fish types, and design of your pond(s), as well as design features like waterfalls. A biofilter works great as it aids waste processing while pressured filters also offer biological and mechanical pond pump for filter that’s easily concealed within its environment. Skimmer pond pump and filter prevent surface debris from sinking. UV Sterilizers help control pathogens and algae to provide optimal water quality and an eco-system balanced with optimal quality water. Finding an optimally functioning filter will guarantee optimal water quality as well as balance within its surroundings!

How can I naturally clear my pond of cloudy water?

Begin by eliminating its cause be that excess nutrients, algal blooms, or suspended particles. Introduce beneficial bacteria and digestive enzymes for organic waste decomposition naturally. Introduce aquatic plants for additional absorption of excess nutrients while providing shade against further algae blooming; regularly clean your surface area from debris such as leaves causing cloudiness; installing UV sterilization can further aid this effort while adding clarity without harmful chemicals!

How can I reduce algae growth in my pond or ponds?

Begin by managing the nutrient level. Excess nutrients derived from fish waste or decayed organic material may encourage algae blooms; to combat this issue add aquatic plants like waterlilies or hornworts as shade providers that compete for nutrients while providing shade while competing for sunlight to limit algal blooms; remove organic debris such as leaves; consider adding beneficial bacteria or UV sterilizer, while pumping regularly will keep the water clear and prevent further blooming from appearing; to maintain clarity consider adding beneficial bacteria.

How Can I Keep My Pond Clean Without a Pump or Filter?

Why choose Grand Champion Technologies (GC Tek)?

Grand Champion Technologies is an award-winning provider of superior aquatic pond equipment and systems with cutting-edge designs tailored specifically to individual customer needs. Their pumps, skimmers, and filters are constructed for durability and efficiency to maintain optimal pond health while energy-saving solutions reduce operational costs while improving water quality; plus customer support team offers tailored advice and knowledgeable support that makes Grand Champion Technologies your perfect aquatic solution provider. For more information visit our website Grand Champion Technologies (GC Tek).

[juno-infernal]

call up my mother to tell her about my chainmail bracelet project and my progress on leather braiding techniques (making a whip). she tells me she’s researching how to make boots and has drawn up designs for a new type of pond filtration system. love being strange together as a family

[captainjonnitkessler]

Do you think you’ll add turtles to your pond? That would be awesome!!

I would really like to! My biggest concern is that they would eat all the frogs. Presumably in a big enough pond they could coexist, but I have no idea how big of a pond is big enough. I've also heard you need a very good filtration system to deal with their waste, which might not be feasible for a pond my size. I'm gonna do some research this winter, and maybe introduce one next summer if I decide to give it a shot.

Also, fun turtle story: A few days ago I was driving home when I saw a guy pulled over, out of his car and using a stick to try and nudge a snapping turtle out of the road. Swear to god the turtle must have jumped a foot into the air while twisting around to snap at the stick. They are WAY faster than you would think! The guy jumped back but he looked like he was having the time of his life, so I left him to it.

[spidermilkshake]

Tank is almost fully through it's first cycle, and I did a small water change today. Vagabond the surprise pond snail somehow climbed into the filtration area as was living there under the high flow most of the day until I finally spotted him and dropped him back down onto the anubias plants. XD Mossman has also branched out and has explored the banana lily plant's rhizomes, the front glass, and one of the anubias next to his favorite moss clump. Boomer finally figured out that the outflow will keep blowing him off the tank wall and has instead realized that the mopani wood has got lots of nice alga on it. Many snoops (snail poops) are flying about, and despite the nitrite level still being 0.5 ppm they don't seem to care or be ill in the slightest.

If all goes well and the nitrite goes indetectable this week, soon some other creechurs may be added. :D First on my list is the fellow inverts--I'm leaning towards Dwarf Mexican Orange Crayfish boss and a gang of some Neocaridina of some sort of yellow or stripey color. Shrimps and such shouldn't overload the system too much right away.

[thinkeco-friendly]

Can Aquaculture Be Sustainable for Our Environment with the Right Approach?

Aquaculture--the method of farming saltwater and freshwater fish, shellfish, and aquatic plants--has become a reliable system over the past few decades for alleviating the world food demand, providing fish for consumption without overfishing, allowing economic relief for fishermen, rebuilding endangered species, etc. This practice has been widely used to better maintain the declining ocean fish population by creating farming approaches such as open-net pens, pond systems, closed systems, raceways, recirculation systems, suspended aquaculture, submersible net pens, etc. Additionally, aquaculture has relieved some fishermen's economic strain by providing coastal community jobs and lessening the need to overfish.

However, the many types of farms can vary with their risk to the environment and how controlled the areas are. Many farms can damage the outside waters because of potential contaminants in contact with specific systems. In contrast, some farms have less invasive methods and can be more sustainable with suitable regulations and ongoing improvements.

Various Farming Methods

Photo: Kelly Roebuck, open-net pen in BC

Open-net pens (cages) are placed directly into the water and moored at the bottom surface of the ocean, usually containing saltwater fish such as Atlantic salmon, trout, bluefin tuna, etc. They allow for contact between the farm and the outside environment, which risks the leakage of waste and chemicals, transfer of diseases, and escaping fish from damage to the cages. This threatens wild juvenile fish that may be interbred with farmed fish, which may transmit disease and alter the local gene pool. Not only that but without any regulation of pesticides and waste, the water that flows freely through the ocean and into the cages is not a controlled factor.

Watershed Watch Salmon Society Senior Scientist Stan Proboszcz reveals, "The fact of the matter is that many migrating fish have no choice but to pass by these farms.” This indicates the unavoidable encounter between farmed fish and wild fish in an open system.

Closed containment systems "use a barrier to control the exchange between farms and the natural environment." Some closed systems include ponds, tanks, recirculation technology, or raceways to limit the interaction with the outside habitat and are primarily used for freshwater species such as abalone, tilapia, and shrimp.

Pond culture is a popular method used in coastal Asian countries, with the area where fish reside contained in a small enclosed space in the ground. Species are raised, and feed is added to maintain their diet. Wastewater containing nitrogen and phosphorus used as fertilization for phytoplankton growth as a natural food base and other components such as bacteria, algae, and chemicals should be adequately filtered when discharged to be environmentally noninvasive. When unfiltered, it can lead to groundwater pollution in the outside environment.

Mangrove forests on the coast of Asian countries have been depleted because of alterations made to accommodate these fish and shrimp farms. The World Resources Institute evaluates that “nearly half the land now used for shrimp ponds in Thailand was formerly used for rice paddies; in addition, water diversion for shrimp ponds has lowered groundwater levels noticeably in some coastal areas.” This issue demonstrates the damaging effect of the need to create more shrimp ponds at the cost of natural mangrove ecosystems, salinization of soil and water, discharge of effluents resulting in pollution of the pond system and receiving waters, and misuse of chemicals. To combat this issue, the restoration and protection of mangrove habitats should be managed along with regulations regarding pond effluents, chemical use, and regional cooperation.

Recirculation technology cycles water through filtration processes and returns it to the aquaculture system. This process aids in maintaining water quality in natural waterways by minimalizing the potential for fish escapes, disease transmission, and pollution.

A semi-closed system exchanges the wastewater used in ponds for fresh natural water from outside sources. This method does not treat the water like recirculation technology but instead pumps out unfiltered water into the environment, which only increases pollution and damage to other fish.

Photo: Gary Fornshell, University of Idaho, flow-through tilapia farm near Boise, Idaho

Raceways are relatively straight, narrow, shallow tanks that need high water flow to sustain the aquatic life, usually rainbow trout, catfish, or salmon, raised there. They require large amounts of flowing water diverted from natural streams, streams, or wells to provide a high-quality water source. The main issue with raceways is the high release of effluents from fish fecal matter and uneaten feed, which flows into the receiving body of water.

Photo: Santryl, PEI oyster farm CC BY-NC 2.0

Suspended aquaculture uses cages, nets, or mesh bags with a rope to attach and drop shellfish such as oysters, scallops, mussels, or clams into a body of water. This method of vertically suspending shellfish only requires clean water and steady water flow to decrease the potential waste buildup. If the species is native to the environment as well, it can be a low-risk form of fish farming, and shellfish can naturally filter feed, allowing them to help restore waterways.

Although there are more aquaculture methods, the methods described above are the most popular ones that can cause low-risk or high-risk environmental damage. Some potential risks to the natural habitat that some farms pose have created a worry for environmentalists who believe that these intensive methods prioritize the output of fish while minimizing the input of resources to grow while harming the fish's lifestyle and environment economically. If fishing farms implement new and innovative solutions while continuing the minimally invasive methods, the future of aquaculture could be beneficial in further creating food security without causing irreparable damage.

Solutions

Some solutions to decrease the environmental impacts of aquaculture reside on multiple factors. In general, careful planning of the location, shipping, and aquaculture method by fisheries could lessen the impact. However, more specifically, to combat the issue of mangrove forest depletion, the restoration and protection of mangrove habitats should be managed along with regulations regarding pond effluents, chemical use, and regional cooperation. In other cases, research should be done to minimize waste matter in water before pumping it out into other water sources in recirculating methods. With the same thought in mind, new research should apply to different systems of cleaning wastewater instead of allowing it to contaminate surrounding areas. This way, methods directly contacting the ground or natural water sources can be more sustainable with their waste outputs. Another idea scientists have discussed is using an integrated cultivation system where fish such as finfish, oysters, sea cucumbers, and kelp are farmed together to take less space and have shellfish species that can clean the surrounding environment that has built up waste. Not only will this minimize space, but also help the effluents discharged.

The Ocean Foundation has composed an article discussing the effects of aquaculture along with some research scientists have done, as well as possible solutions. Their efforts and others, such as the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration, have created findings that will lessen the harmful effects of aquaculture, hoping for sustainable ways to provide food security and alleviate poverty.

Sources

[jonnysinsectcatalogue]

Backswimmer - Notonecta irrorata

Generally when we all think of insects, we think of those that crawl on land or fly through the air, but there are insects that call water their home. There are also several insects that begin their lives in the water and then move to the land (or the air) in their adult stage, but today gives us something different. From the cottage country of Caledon, we find an insect specie that spends a majority of its time below the water, only surfacing when it needs to collect air bubbles. It must have been pulled into the pool's filtration system and was spit out into the pool where I found it. A pool is no place for an insect, so afterwards I placed our new friend in a nearby pond. A True Bug by classification, we enter an infraorder called Nepomorpha (Aquatic Bugs) wherein there are all adapted for a life in the water (including Giant Water Bugs, Toad Bugs and Waterscorpions, but not Pond Skaters). They have hydrodynamic bodies and legs made to either grasp or to swim (or both). They all have their ways to navigate water, but the Backswimmer here is the strangest of all, given that it swims upside down! Backswimmers are often confused for their relatives: the Water Boatmen. These are a separate family (Corixidae) vs. the Backswimmer family - Notonectidae! To distinguish between the two (in broad strokes), Boatman tend to have flatter bodies and swim upright, while Backswimmers swim underside down.

By turning upside down, its vivid colors are hidden from eyes above and it can grasp creatures at the water's surface before they knew what hit them. To propel themselves they use their hindlegs like a pair of oars, but instead of rowing they press them inwards and then open them when they can by fully extended. The legs are just as powerful on land as when held in my hand, this individual tried to jump away! It's a surprisingly powerful jumper on land all things considered, but since it can't anchor its feet the way an Orthopteran does, there's only so far it can launch itself. Back in the water it jumps, and back in my hand it goes. With such power in those legs, it's no wonder that Backswimmers are effective hunters! If not for their rounded, adorable appearance, they might even gain the reputation of Assassin Bugs! They'll grasp prey and jab them with their rostrum to food. With regards to the latter, a word of caution to you, dear reader. Backswimmers have gained the nickname "Water Bees" as it seems that can inflict a painful bite using their rostrum if mishandled (see Picture 2 for how it looks). An insect like this can remain underwater for hours, so suddenly bringing it to land may give it the wrong idea, especially if done roughly. While I suffered no bites, always take care if handling a live specimen (preferably bring a container with you to observe them).

Pictures were taken on July 1, 2023 in Caledon with a Google Pixel 4. Next week, more new insects from Caledon!