#I don't like having to point out stuff I already said

[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 150 (Inventing - or Reinventing? - Time Travel)

To research the possibilities of time travel, Felix Psyded, Esquire, and his girlfriend, Lilith Pleasant, had spent months at Laurel Library in Britechester. Emit's knowledge had proven helpful, but his device was too advanced for modern times and required materials yet to be discovered. They had a lot to learn, and often studied late into the evening.

These two - an attorney and a podcaster - knew next to nothing about programming or biometric sciences. But Lilith, especially, was determined to make a device to chase Emit's time thief, and Felix would stay by her side in any decade.

"I checked out a copy of A History of Time Travel like Ash suggested," she said eagerly. Felix quickly flipped her laptop to The Sims Archives, Volume 2, disguising the webpage he'd really been reading. "Are you enjoying the game? I didn't realize how much I missed playing it!"

He nodded absentmindedly, and Lilith noticed. She was about to raise the question when her twin sister, Angela, emerged from behind the bookshelves with a programming guide. "Geez, this stuff is difficult," she complained. "How are you planning to learn all this to make a time travel device?"

"Ash was taken with a faulty remote," explained Lilith. "He said we need to program it correctly or we might end up lost in time, but he's been a huge help on some things we just can't wrap our heads around."

"It's pretty crazy to let a nine-year-old help you build a device to jump through time. And how did he invent it already, because Emit's here, but not invent it yet at the same time?"

Lilith scowled at her twin. They'd been polar opposites since high school, and Lilith always felt a sense of moral superiority oozing from her earthy pastel pores. "Why are you even here, Angela? We didn't ask you for help."

"Excuse me for being interested!"

A librarian shushed them from somewhere beyond the tall rows of mahogany bookshelves, and Lilith leaned in to whisper. "You're not interested in the device, you're interested in Emit."

Angela caught herself before she let out a yowl, aghast at the suggestion. "A blue-haired time traveler? Please! Do I look desperate?"

Felix poked his head in gently, having built up a good relationship with Lilith's family. "No, but you look infatuated every time he's on TV. I don't blame you, really. He's polite, and he could well be handsome behind those sunglasses. He's mysterious; it's alluring!"

"Lil, if you're not careful, you're going to lose your boyfriend to Emit Relevart."

Lilith rolled her eyes and changed the subject as Angela huffed. "Ash thinks we need to look for something called a shard of time, which he first read about in Theoretical Electronics. He reads so fast, it's amazing! He says the shards are hard to spot, but if you look at something long enough, relax your mind, you'll see slight discoloration in an object. Once you see it, you can pick it up with your fingers. Ash said he found one on the toilet in his bathroom at home."

(This is Ash pondering time travel on the toilet for the quest points. I know it doesn't look like it but some of the event reward animations are sus or my game is broken. The actual books - Theoretical Electronics and A History of Time Travel - never appeared in Lilith's hands. That's why she's reading a violin skill book, which she picked herself when she was done reading the invisible books.)

"So you're going to go stare at toilets for a while?"

"Refrigerators, too," said Felix.

"This is so weird, you guys. Are you really serious about this?"

"After Felix is done work tomorrow, we're going back to Willow Creek to talk to Emit some more." Angela tried to stuff her hopeful expression and Lilith let out an exaggerated sigh. "Did you want to come with us?"

"Well...if you think I'd be helpful I'd be happy to-"

"Ange..." Lilith pursed her lips. She loved her sister, but she was always like this. "I said you could come and meet Emit. Don't act like it's a favour to me."

They made it to Willow Creek Park the next evening, where they found Emit still wandering the paths. He smiled and waved when he spotted the girls waiting for Felix near the public restroom. "Lilith Pleasant! I hoped you'd be back. Most of the gawkers have been unserious, and they don't come around as much now that the news cycle's moved on a little."

"We wouldn't know where to begin, but we've been getting help from someone...Does the name Ash Landgraab mean anything to you?"

After everything they'd learned about Ash's visit from the ghost of Marco, Lilith posed her question carefully. When Emit frowned, shaking his head, her shoulders dropped in relief. "Everyone's heard of the Landgraabs, but Ash Landgraab doesn't really ring a bell. Why?"

The sisters looked at each other. "When you're from, who invented time travel?"

Emit laughed as Felix joined them. "That's one of life's great mysteries! It's thought whoever invented it wanted - or needed - to be protected, so their identity was kept secret. When I was at the academy, there were rumours the inventor was a kid and that's why their name was never recorded, but some say people did know, and the inventor was well known once upon a time, but the truth was lost to history."

Felix chuckled. "Perhaps the truth was hidden by another time thief."

Lilith and Angela laughed with him, but Emit's face held a stern expression. "Time thieves aren't that funny. They could erase history as we know it if they try hard enough. Some days, my wristboard pings so often, each time they move to a new time, I can't possibly chase them alone. We're lucky the one we're dealing with is just dropping household furnishings all over the place. So far." He dropped his voice in an ominous tone. "But even that could break the strings holding time in place."

"Wow, you know so much!" Angela gushed at the blue-haired man, and he looked back to Lilith with a curious expression.

"Is this your clone?"

Lilith laughed, but Angela laughed louder. "This is my twin sister, Angela."

"It's nice to meet you, Angela."

They shared a sweet smile, and Lilith glanced knowingly at Felix. "We also wanted to ask you about shards of time," she said. "Where are the best places to look for them?"

Emit looked back to Lilith as though he'd forgotten she was there. "Shards? Oh shards! Sorry, our tech hasn't had to use shards for a long time. Shiny surfaces are best, but I suppose they could be anywhere, really, if you look long enough."

"That's what Ash said."

"This Ash sounds fascinating. I'd like to meet him, or his guardians, since you mentioned last time he's a child, didn't you? You're...you're not saying he's the one who invented time travel..."

"He hasn't yet," said Angela. "He's almost ten, but these two would probably be hopeless without him. He's the one who discovered the shards."

"A child Landgraab invents time travel? That is a headline!"

"His parents - at least his mother and his stepfather - don't want people hounding him the rest of his life."

"I don't blame them. It's important to protect children - even brilliant ones."

"Should you meet him some day, I think you'd be quite impressed by him," said Felix. "He's nothing like the rest of the Landgraabs."

Emit laughed. "What do you mean? The Landgraabs are incredible. They spent six billion simoleons to end global hunger and built the ship that stopped the asteroid. A Landgraab is president of Simlandia right now. Well, right where I came from."

Felix shared looks of surprise with Lilith and Angela. "Maybe Marco's stunt changed more than we thought," he mused.

Felix and Lilith paid attention to each other while Angela made small talk with Emit. But Emit seemed uninterested in her flirty advances, which he returned with friendly nods and turned glances.

Before they left him in the early hours of the morning, Felix gave him a burner phone so they could reach out if they had more questions. Emit took the untraceable phone willingly, glancing quickly at Angela before sending them home with polite goodbyes.

When they got back to the old three-story home they shared with Angela and her parents in Gibbs Hill, Lilith quickly went to bed. But Felix was mulling something over in his mind.

He tried reading, but his mind moved too fast to take in the paragraphs. When dawn finally broke and he left for work the next morning, he called his favourite grumpy police captain on the way.

"Hey. I know it's early, but I was wondering if you had a few minutes. I've got a problem I need to talk about..." ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 2.1 Summary

Gen 1 Start | Gen 1 Summary

Last shot is of Felix is his work attire and not on the phone with Conrad because I liked it. He is not without swagger!

NOTE: If you've played through the event, you know the story is diverging a bit from the strict tasks since Emit isn't the sole source of information for Lilix here. Also, Angela had that instant attraction to Emit and I want to see if I can see that through. Even though Emit is being very professional-adjacent about it, he accepted some of her flirts, but not all, so I gave it a rest before he got mad. But once again, I'm making something much bigger than it is for the sake of plot.

[billthedrake]

LINEAGE (PART SEVEN)

A parent-teacher conference night was the last thing I wanted to attend. Braden was starting to be slowed down by the twin pregnancy, earlier than previously, and the fact the younger boys were starting to get into the more rambunctious age made both our jobs tougher. Between work, parenting, and just picking up the slack, it was a busy month for me. But we were sending Junior to a private school that prided itself on personal attention to its students, and at home I placed an emphasis on education. So after dinner, I drove over to the school.

Even if it was the last thing I wanted to do on a Wednesday evening, I was glad when I got there. I was able to have a nice chat with Junior's golf coach, Brad Sargent. Even on a solid high school golf team, Junior was a standout player as a freshman. "Bill is scholarship material," Brad said with an encouraging tone. "I don't know if I've seen that mix of talent and work ethic before." Since in public Junior was only my grandson rather than my son as well, we referred to him by his first name, not Junior.

"That's all him," I said. "But it's made me and his father real happy for sure."

Next was a meeting with his English teacher. While Junior's grades were OK, English was his weak subject. Mrs. Hilliard was polite but talked in a way that let me know my son wasn't her star student. Still, I assured her that Bill would stay on track.

The big surprise though was his history teacher, Thomas Rizzo, who was a high school football coach and looked like one - probably in his early 30s, he had big ex-linebacker build, a little beefy, with huge shoulders and a thick neck that splayed the open collar of his oxford blue button down. He shook my hand with a vice grip.

"Mr. Drake," he said before we both sat in his empty classroom.

We talked about Junior's grades and performance in the class. All good stuff.

"I gather he wants to go into Finance," the teacher said at one point.

"Why do you say that?" I asked. I'd tried to get my eldest son to talk about his life aspirations, but Braden put the kibosh on that. My husband still resented the pressure I'd put on him when he was a teen.

"Well, for starters..." Coach Rizzo replied with a grin. "Bill's doing his project on the history of the New York Stock Exchange."

"You're kidding?" I laughed.

"Nope," he grinned. "But he's a good kid. Too bad I can't talk him into joining the football team. He has the height to be a great quarterback."

"Golf's his game," I assured the man. Anyway, he was probably trying to flatter me. "I'm surprised you're a coach in addition to a teacher," I said. That came out the wrong way, but the private school had a lot of specialized athletic staff.

Thankfully he laughed, maybe used to that reaction. "I got my masters in history. My dad was a professor actually, so after my college playing days were over, I cracked the books and went to grad school."

"That's cool," I said.

He nodded. Thomas Rizzo was surprisingly easy to talk to. And he must have thought the same about me, because his next words were a little more revealing. "Yeah, my father and I were close," he said, almost as if in reverie, but his brown eyes caught mine in a direct look. "Still are."

"Glad to hear," I said. Maybe it was a dumb reply, but I didn't know how to be positive about what he was sharing without letting on too much. Already, it felt like Coach Rizzo was implying something.

"Just like you and Bill's dad," he said.

I nodded. I had experience in the white lies and not so white lies about having an incest relationship. So I was actually pretty poised with this kind of interrogation. "We are," I said. "It's been great to help Braden out raising his sons."

That got a knowing smile from Coach. "I'm not going to be a dick, Mr. Drake. I just think it's cool what you and your Braden have going on."

"You do?" I said. "The coparenting arrangement, you mean?"

"If you want to call it that," he said. "Look... it's just really cool to find a sympathetic kind of man. And seeing the way you and your son are with each other, I don't know..."

"Well, if you're a sympathetic man, Coach... I'll just say that both me and Braden love to meet kindred spirits."

That brought a smile to his face, which was the time I realized he wasn't trying to trap me into saying something. "I have the next parent waiting outside," he said, gesturing to the closed door. "But OK if I show you a picture?"

I nodded and he pulled out his phone. "I don't show this to anyone, but I want to show you." He fumbled with the screen then turned it toward me.

The picture was about five years old, since Rizzo looked younger, almost that fresh out of college look. The man next to him wasn't as bulked up or muscled but he was clearly the father, same eyes, same nose and chin. It was a selfie photo taken in a hotel room, probably on a timer. Both men were shirtless and probably naked or else wearing skimpy swim trunks. The frame cut them off just above the pubes and the room light showed off a fresh tan on each of their bodies.

I looked at Rizzo. "Your father's a very handsome man," I said. It was true. The older Rizzo had an olive-tan complexion that showed off his silvery hair and darker body fur.

That made coach smile. "I know." He tapped the screen again and turned it back. This one was taken a few seconds later, father and son locking lips and in full embrace. A real incest kiss.

"Fuck, that's beautiful," I said. "If you don't mind my saying."

"Not at all, Mr. Drake."

I pulled out my phone and found a similar picture of me and Braden. He took it in wide eyed and finally said with a tinge of regret, "I really gotta cut this short. But seems like we have more to talk about."

"Indeed we do."

***

I came home to find Braden in the living room, relaxing and reading on his ipad. I came up behind him and massaged his shoulders. I had a good idea the younger boys were playing video games in the family room.

"Tough day?" I asked.

"Not really," my son said. "Just tired."

"Where's Junior?" I asked. "I want to talk with him."

Braden looked back at me. God, he was so handsome, and lately he'd gone back to his Marine buzzcut, which made him look younger and older than his 38 years at the same time. "Is he in trouble?"

I laughed and patted his meaty traps. "No... I just want to see if he can babysit on Saturday."

Braden knew why. The Newcombs were coming into town and we'd set up a dinner outing.

"He's in the basement, working out."

I leaned down and whispered in his ear. "Why don't you check on the boys and then get ready for bed, Son? I really want to be inside you tonight."

Braden nodded eagerly. "I want that, too." I could sense the eagerness. It had been a few days.

I descended the stairs into the basement. Braden was serious about lifting, always had been, and he'd tricked out the cement-floored space with an impressive home gym. Brade worked out seriously six times a week, and I made sure to get my weekend workouts in. Over the last year, Braden had shown Junior the fundamentals of working out.

I came to see our eldest son going at it on the squat rack. Junior was 15 and now that he'd had his growth spurt he was tall, like me. I watched his form as he leveraged his body and the barbell up and down for a few reps before reracking the weight.

"Hey Dad," he said as he pulled the earbud outs.

I nodded toward the barbell. "That's a lot of weight, Junior... you being safe?"

He nodded in an annoyed-at-his-dad's-lectures kind of way. "Daddy showed me good form."

"That's good," I said. "Listen, buddy... I want to run something by you."

"I'm not in trouble am I?" he asked. Junior knew I'd gone to the parent-teacher conferences.

I chuckled. "You're the second person tonight who's asked me that."

Junior laughed. He got my humor, it was one of our connections.

"It's just," I continued, more seriously. "You know this pregnancy is going to be a bigger deal for your daddy."

"I figured," my son said, and I could tell he's been thinking about this. "Twins... it's gonna be so cool." Then catching my drift, he added, "How can I help, Dad?"

I patted his shoulder. "You know, if you can step up some around the house, help look after you brothers, and give your Daddy a break once in a while."

Junior smiled. I thought of what Coach Rizzo said about Bill being a good kid. "You got it, Dad."

"I'll bump up your allowance," I offered.

"I won't say no to that," he grinned.

"And I'd like to hire you to babysit Ev and Keith this weekend."

Junior's eyes twinkled. "Got a date night with Daddy?"

"It's long overdue, kiddo," I smiled back. "You think you can help?"

"God yeah, Dad. Glad to."

"Thanks, buddy." I looked back at the weights. "You working out much longer?"

"I have a few more sets to do. Why?"

"It's getting late," I reminded him. Even if he was a teenager who didn't have the set bed time of his younger brothers, I didn't want him becoming a total night owl.

"I won't be too long, Dad." He started to put his ear buds back in, then stopped. "Dad... can I ask a favor of you?"

"What is it, kiddo?"

"When I get my learner's permit, can you teach me to drive?"

"That's five months months away, Junior."

"I know," he said. Maybe embarrassed for his eagerness.

I patted his arm. "All right, weekly driving lessons after golf. Maybe we'll find a deserted parking lot and start early, OK?"

That got a huge smile. "Awesome, Dad. Thanks."

"All right, good night, kiddo."

"Good night, Dad."

I was in a good mood when I got upstairs to the master bedroom, and even better mood when I saw Brade naked and waiting for me. His cock was rock hard and just everything about him was beautiful. Thick muscle, masculine and fully grown up now. Father of three and soon to be swelling with our twin sons. Already that baby bumps was showing.

"God, Dad, the pregnancy hormones are hitting hard. I'm glad you were in the mood tonight."

"I won't complain if you hound me for sex when I'm not," I grinned, undoing my tie and setting it down on the dresser.

"Maybe it's anticipating Saturday," he said. "Eric has been texting me a lot."

"Doug's equally excited," I said. I slowly stripped out of my suit, dress shirt, and underwear, thrilled to see Brade's eyes on me in this private strip tease. I loved it like this when we were super horny but not in a rush. As I peeled down my boxer briefs my hardon jutted straight up.

We embraced and kissed. I felt up Brade's pregnant body, taking time with that baby bump while Brade groped my cock.

"Is this gonna be a Dad kind of fuck tonight?" my son-husband asked in a deep horny voice.

I paused and pulled back to look into his eyes. "We don't gotta, Brade."

"I know," he said, massaging my hard dad dick. "I like it that way sometimes. And I figure doggy position is gonna work better when I start getting huge."

"Oh fuck," I hissed.

"You've been imagining it right, Dad? Fucking me when I'm big and round with our two boys."

"I won't be able to keep my fucking hands off you, Sport."

"You'll just have to keep me good and knocked up, then, old man."

We kissed harder now. Maybe the soft and slow approach was out the window. I groped his muscle hard and kissed him deeply.

Braden finally broke away and turned away from me before scrambling to all fours. "Fucking mount my big pregnant body, sir!"

Braden's sex talk was at full volume and I shhhed him. "Junior will hear," I said.

"Juniors knows what we do in here.... the poor dude probably jerks off wanting to join in."

"Brade!" I admonished. I wasn't sure I was prepared for the effect of the hormones on my husband.

He spread his legs in invitation. Braden has an amazing muscle ass and the contract between that and the softening love handles was incredible. "I know, Dad. But fuck, our son has it for you, bad. Why do you think he works out every night?"

I was already lubing up my cock. "Golf, I presume," I said. Call me dumb, but I didn't know what Braden was getting at.

I could see my son shake his head. "He knows you go for muscle. He didn't say as much, but when he asked me to show him lifting... well he clearly wants a body like mine."

"Oh," I said. It was strange how I could be so close to Junior in some ways but in others our son hid himself from me, yet opened up to Brade.

"I mean..." I heard Brade growl, trying to keep his voice down. "You know why I got into lifting and football, right?"

"No, Sport," I said. Already I was lining up my prick to his buns and teasing his crack before finding the soft pucker in there.

"I found a couple of porn videos on your computer. I still remember them. Sean Cody's Abe... and a football orgy one. I wanted to become the man you wanted to fuck."

"Yeah?" I said. "You never told me that."

I ran my hands along his back before leaning back up.

"I know you taught me not to spy," he said earnestly.

"You think I'm gonna punish you now?" I chuckled.

"Sounds stupid," I know, Brade said. "But I didn't want you to think less of me." He wiggled his ass back at me. "Your dick feels so amazing, Dad." Braden said softly. "Put it in me. Please."

I held on to his hips while I powered mine forward. Clenching my glutes, I penetrated the folds of his entrance. "Oh fuck... you feel nice, buddy."

"I got my father's cock in me," Brade said. He loved to vocalize our incest, and I loved him vocalizing it.

"Your dad's here for you, Son. Hard as nails for you."

"You make me feel I'm home, Dad. Every time you fuck me."

"You are home, Son," I said.

"I mean emotionally. With the right man."

I thrust in. Burying myself balls deep. Braden was tight but opening up for me. Already I knew the gently pulsing guts were going to get me off. "I'm not an easy man to live with."

"You're my father... every day I'm living out my dream."

"Yeah, buddy?" My thrusts were getting faster.

"Hell yes. Living with my incest husband. Bearing you kids."

"We gonna keep at it, Brade? Knock out a whole litter?" OK, I was getting real into the sex, my cock jabbing harder and faster. This was gonna be a Dad kind of fuck all right.

"Keep fucking me bareback, Dad, and you're gonna found out."

"Oh shit." My grip on his waist was tighter now, my pace more urgent. Brade's hole felt amazing around my pistoning cock.

"Maybe we can have eight boys before my manopause kicks in."

"There are the fertility pills, like the Fiedlers took."

"Hell, yes. My Dad's breeder cock has more work to do."

"Getting close, son..." I hissed.

"Do it dad. Knock me up again. Put another son next to our twins in there."

It was a wild thing to say, and it pushed me to orgasm. I gave a couple of quick thrusts and unloaded, hard.

I heard Brade cum below me.

I leaned forward and kissed his neck, slowly pulling out. "I didn't go too hard on ya, Sport?"

"Nope," Braden said and twisted to kiss me as I lay down next to him.

I stroked his cheek. He was angelic and hunky at the same time. My dick wasn't going soft, even if I felt satisfied. "So... you became a jock for me?"

"Is that weird?" he said. Braden was so self-assured, always the more confident and determined one in our incestuous relationship, that this self-doubt took me by surprise.

"I'm flattered," I said, truthfully. "And I've been having hot sex with a perfect stud for twenty years straight."

"Well, you get hotter with age, Dad. It's crazy." His fingers traced my chest hair. "The gray coming in is driving me wild."

We kissed some and then talked some more.

"I forgot to tell you, Sport," I said. "I had a real interesting conversation with Junior's history teacher tonight."

"The coach?"

"Yeah, Thomas Rizzo." I said. "Turns out he gets us."

"You mean..."

"He's close with his dad, incest close. I guess he sniffed us out, too."

"Wow," Brade said. I could see his prick harden up. "For real?"

I nodded.

"I love that other men can enjoy incest, Dad. Maybe we can meet up with Coach and his dad, too."

I placed my arm around Braden's shoulder. "He's Junior's teacher, buddy... probably not the best idea."

"Yeah," my son conceded. "You're open for playing with the Newcomb men, though?"

"If they're up for it," I said.

"I'm pretty sure Eric is up for it," Braden said.

"Maybe I should ask what you boys have been talking about."

Braden gave a coy smile. "What it's like to be a son."

We kissed again. And made out. And pretty soon, I was climbing on top of my hunky son for round two.

****

Braden was nervous actually when we showed up to the restaurant. "It's gonna be fun, Brade," I whispered before we sat down. "Even if nothing sexual happens."

"That's what I'm afraid of, Dad. I want this bad, actually."

My son and I had talked about it. We were mostly monogamous, but playtime with the Connors men gave some needed variety to our sex life. We'd even explored son-swap nights where Frank Connors would sleep with Braden in one room, while Jeff and I took the other room. It was naughty fun, and gave me and Braden some fun outside our normal married routine.

Still, Doug and Eric Newcomb had been majorly spooked during that Caribbean private time in our hotel room. The messages I got from Doug made me think things were different now, but I didn't want Braden pushing them too hard.

When they showed up, they looked incredible. Doug was in a dress shirt and sport coat, much like I was, and Eric was in a preppy polo shirt that clung to his football jock body. He'd packed on muscle even since going off to college. I saw Braden's look and he could read me like a book. It was uncanny how much these men were our type, hotter versions of us, even.

We got up from the table and shook hands. There was a lot of eye contact, heavy but stopping shy of flirty.

"Great to see you guys," Doug said.

"You too," Braden piped in. "Glad you could make it here."

"Best part of being a pilot, being able to take trips with my boy," Doug said reaching over to touch his son's neck. "Right, kiddo?"

"Right, Dad," the jock said, basking in his father's attention.

I was bricking up beneath the table cloth. "That's what I call my son, too... kiddo."

That made the DILF's eyes twinkle. "Yeah?" Looking at Braden, he winked. "You like your nickname, man?"

Braden laughed. "Not me... it's our oldest son. We have a few kids actually."

Eric grew noticeably excited. "Yeah? That's so awesome... you um..."

Braden had a proud smile. "I bore all of them. Currently pregnant with twins."

"Congratulations," Doug said.

"Thanks," I said. "We're thrilled."

Eric lowered his voice. "Dad and I have talked about the idea, but we're not sure."

"You gotta be," Braden said. "Parenthood is a huge commitment. But it's amazing, too."

Eric seemed thrilled and looked over at his dad, who gave a silent, knowing look.

The jock's whisper got lower. "So, like... is it hard to have a sex life after kids?""

"Tell us if we get too nosy," the other dad interjected.

"I doubt you will," I said. "Brade and I find a way to make it work. Probably like you did Doug, when Eric was younger."

The father gave a sly grin. "His mother and I did not have NEARLY as active a sex life as I have now."

"Honeymoon phase?" Braden teased, looking at Eric.

The college jock got a bit smile. "Oh yeah... ever since we met you guys... we just decided to go for it."

"The full monte?" I ventured.

"The full monte," Doug said proudly. "Only Eric's on contraception, so we don't go as far as you guys."

Dinner was a great chance to talk. I was hard for much of it, but the conversation really was bonding as incest couples, finding out how it worked with another dad-son pair. Braden and I filled the guys in on our family and what parenthood was like and how we managed marriage over the long haul.

By the time we paid the bill, I thought maybe we'd friend zoned the Newcombs, but Doug gave Eric an affectionate look to confirm then looked back at us. "Feel like coming back to our hotel, guys?"

"Hell yes," Braden piped in immediately, which got a laugh from all of us.

There was no nervousness this time, after we drove to where they were staying and followed them to their room. I was horny and I knew Brade was beyond excited.

Whereas I'd led the charge in our first session, Doug was calling the shots now. As he removed his suit jacked and removed his shoes he looked at me and Braden. "Eric and I regret not going farther last time."

"Farther, how?" I asked, also removing my shoes.

He paused. "If you're up for it, it would be fun to connect more physically."

As Eric stripped off his polo, I was rewarded with the sight of a lot of smooth thick chest and arm muscle. "You guys are so hot... I'd love to be with all three of you."

I looked at my son. "Brade and I could definitely go for that, right, son?"

"Yeah, Dad."

Doug growled. "It's so hot to hear you call each other dad and son."

Braden looked at the man. "I'm going to kiss my dad."

"Bring it in, Sport," I grinned and watched Braden close the distance. Making out in front of another dad-son team was so incredible.

"Oh fuck," Eric hissed.

But by the time we turned, the son was making out with the dad, undoing the dress-shirt with deft fingers.

Braden took one side and I took the other. Completing the foursome. Sex with the Connors men was hot, but these guys were hotter, movie attractive and porn hot. Doug actually latched his mouth to mine first, while Braden kissed Eric. Then we swapped.

"I wanna suck your cock, Bill," the jock hissed, hunger in his eyes.

"Please."

I watched as he crouched down. Doug had a hopeful look that urged Braden to follow suit.

"So... Doug..." I said as Eric started swallowing me. "You're a real incest father now."

He gulped. Maybe verbal was new to him. But he loved it. "Hell yes. Two, three times a day, having sex with my own son."

"He a Daddy's boy?" I asked. I placed my hand on his shoulder, squaring the body contact. Doug was way hot and I was attracted to him, too.

"Fuck yeah. Like your Braden."

"My son has been dying to have sex with you, man."

He gasped and looked down, watching Brade suck. He looked back up at me. "He's really fucking good."

I massaged his shoulders with my fingers. "Your own son's amazing, too."

We let them work us up for a bit. Then Doug got a horny urgency to his voice. "Switch?"

"Yeah."

I backed away from Eric's mouth and walked over to Braden. Rather than suck me, Brade started tonguing my balls. "These are the balls that made me," he hissed. "Then knocked me up."

"Oh God!" Doug gasped. He was cumming, inside Eric's throat as the jock bobbed up and down and swallowed.

I nudged Braden off and guided him to the bed.

Already Eric was going to fetch some lube for us.

The mating was quiet but intense. The Newcombs flanked us, one on each side for a front row view of me breaching Braden. Doug was still hard as nails, and Eric hadn't gotten off. I fucked with slow hard thrusts. Braden responded. "Go for it, Dad."

I pounded him, like I like. Getting real into it. Eric kissed me as I did, and Doug made out with my son. The orgasm was intense, for Brade too. He'd barely cum when Doug pulled off to lick the seed of Braden's muscle bod.

Meanwhile, Eric was pulling me into a deeper embrace, pulling me back into a kiss. I followed him down to the mattress as he held me tight and wrapped his legs around me. This was proceeding quickly.

I pulled off and looked at Doug. "Is it OK, man?"

"If I can do yours." He was lubing his cock. I had a feeling that if I didn't let him fuck Brade he was going to be dicking his son.

"Yeah," I agreed.

So side by side, we fucked the other son, feeding off the shared sexual energy. It was mostly to get Eric off, but Doug's thrusts got faster and I knew he was about to seed Brade. I was glad Braden was already knocked up. In our sessions with the Connors we'd been careful with protection, but now had gotten carried away.

We enjoyed the afterglow and made out with our own sons, before swapping again.

"We should get back," Braden finally said. "But this has been incredible."

"Maybe tomorrow?" Doug asked hopefully. "Sorry if I'm being greedy, but I don't know when we'll have this chance again."

"We know a couple other incest couples," I said. "If you want to be introduced to them."

"Fuck, yes," Eric said. He gotten out of bed to down the water bottle to replenish liquids. God, he was incredible, a hunky naked jock that reminded me a lot of Braden when he was younger.

Doug was more cautious. "Just to meet... I think I'd never to develop the trust before a scene like this," he gestured to me and Brade naked in bed with him. "And the attraction too."

"Well, I'm flattered we made the cut, man," I said. I slid out of bed and looked for my underwear and T-shirt.

"You kidding?" Doug said leaning up against the headboard. The man was a handsome fucker, it was almost mesmerizing. And he'd passed on some good genetics to his son. "You opened up a whole world for us."

Braden was getting dressed too. "That door was already cracked, guys. We just helped you push it open."

The vibe was moving quickly to a cordial friend dynamic. But we gave each other a quick kiss before leaving their room.

Braden was on cloud nine the whole way home, and I was pretty much feeling happy and content, too.

[nightshade962]

Next idea for today I don't know if I'm going to post one of the other ones that I have I have a list we'll see

This one is a play on another fake that I read a bit ago I don't remember what it's called but it's a soulmate AU that one of the ones where the writing will appear on the other one like you can write on your arm and it will appear on the you're so much arm. It was kind of already angsty but I want a little bit more angst.

Okay so Tim and Danny are soul mates. And Danny for the longest time was always writing or drawing things to Tim. Eventually Tim was like having a really bad day let's say it's kind of around the time he started being Robin so it would be around that time Danny was an active vigilante. And Tim got fed up with Danny writing on him all the time by the way they don't know each other's names yet and pretty much says that he will eventually renounce him as a his soulmate which in this world you can't do until like you're 20 or something like that you have to be like illegal adult for a few years.

And Danny just kind of shuts down afterwards because Denny's already kind of going through a lot at home. Like bad parents and let's say maybe Jazz got hurt if not killed kind of let you play off that a little bit I'm not sure which one I want better I just want Danny to be hurting. Let's say for some odd reason with the whole Phantom thing he actually has a falling out with Sam and Tucker( now I don't think this would actually happen but like I said I just want angst) so the one Comfort he had to write his soulmate was pretty much gone because the soulmate told him that he didn't want Danny talking to him and as soon as he can he's renouncing him he just kind of plummets.

Eventually Danny has to run away from home for whatever reason maybe he got vivisected and he was on the Run or whatever he ends up and Gotham and he's living on the streets in Crime Alley. He actually runs into Jason because Jason sees this scrawny kid living on the streets through the best he can and he wants to help but Danny has been hurt so many times that he does not trust that Jason.

Maybe how Tim and Danny actually meet is like at a library like that's where Danny can do his online schooling and Tim's like either visiting like Barbara or maybe doing a little bit of research for whatever reason he's using Library. And they hit it off and they start hanging out and Danny's starting to think that maybe he can actually start trusting someone again and all that sort of stuff at this point he kind of already trust Jason a little bit enough where he knows Jason's not going to hurt him but he's still not willing like to go it's like a safe house with him.

Somehow other hanging out one of them gets a writing on their arm like maybe they accidentally drew a pan across their arm or the other person was reaching across the table with the pen in their hand and I should just wrote on their arm okay. And they see it appear on the other person's arm they both freeze and just stare. Well Tim is thinking that he actually found his soulmate at this point he doesn't quite remember what he said to Danny before they knew each other but Danny bolts he leaves. He's no longer picking up Tim's calls or anything no longer answering texts. Tim's freaking out Danny is asking himself why did he think he could ever be happy.

Eventually like Tim and Jason are in the Batcave Tim's trying to find Danny still and he's kind of freaking out and Jason's like what is wrong with you and so Tim explains that he found his soulmate but his soulmate bolted and he had to look of fear and absolute Terror in his eyes and sorrow.

This is all I can think about for this one right now I can't think of anymore feel free to add more sorry that it's a run-on and not many punctuations I mean they using these just to get like my ideas down hoping maybe a wonderful writer can find them or anyone who just wants to write it that's good too or maybe just to give somebody something to play around in like meladaptive daydreaming like I do

[acourtofthought]

Already sent this too another blog but I want to hear your opinion too. I just listened to an ACOTAR podcast with SJM’s friend in it( The one that wears glasses and usually does interviews with her) and they were talking about possible endgames for Elain in the podcast.

They said they don’t think with the way the books are going that Lucien and Elain will end up together. One of them even said that before she had an active elucien blog on tumblr, but she too agreed that she doesn’t think elucien will happen after their scenes in SF and FAS.

And when they were talking about the endgames for Elain they mentioned Eris and another character, I think tarquin or something. But they were both strong on the possibility of Eris which was crazy to me then. However, thinking about it now and considering how Eris, out of no where, suddenly played a huge role in ACOSF, and SJM hinting that he is about to get the Rhys treatment I am worried.

Especially with the way SJM was giddy talking about writing Eris in SF interviews and then mentioning that she’s planning stuff for Mor Azriel and Elain but never Lucien, and the set up for the renaming books, being two couples and one novella. Plus they both agree that elriel isn’t happening, and they think gwynriel is a huge possibility. I am just thinking that if gwynriel happens and Lucien doesn’t end up with Elain that rules out a book for him and that makes me so sad because IMO I think out of all the remaining characters he deserves a book the most. 😭😭 if Lucien doesn’t get a book it would break my heart.

Sorry for the long ask.

Hi there! I think Steph and Ava are a riot when they're together on their podcast. I also think it's possible Steph may know more than she lets on within her podcast. With that said, though, I often do not buy the theories Steph and Ava have come up with / talked about because there have been a few times where their knowledge of what actually happened in the books is lacking. And no shade to them, they are both extremely busy with many other things and SJM is not the only author the read / talk about. I don't think they obsess over all things SJM the way we do in the fandom (a good thing since Steph is friends with Sarah, you want a friend - not necessarily a fan girl). However, when Ava said she couldn't even remember that Elain stabbed the king and Steph said she thinks Sarah is going to write a throuple for Lucien and that he's got so much story to tell but she's not sure how we're going to get to that until he and Elain settle their bond, it did have me questioning them as a true resource of what to expect. Listen, I LOVE LOVE LOVE Lucien and I'm so excited for his story but even I know that Lucien is not taking center stage to Elain. It's an odd take to think that Lucien's got this big arc ahead of him but the only small pesky thing standing in the way of that is Elain needing to break their bond and once that's done we can move forward with him. At this point, I do have to question anyone thinking Gwynriel is 120% endgame while also believing Elain and Lucien are probably not happening. I actually don't remember them saying Eris or Tarquin are romantic possibilities for Elain but I don't think there's anything to support those statements even if they did. Eris is showing remorse for the state of his relationship with Lucien, I definitely don't see him ending up with his mate. Also, there are zero hints that Elain would end up in the Autumn Court. As far as Tarquin, Elain has literally never met him and I've got no idea what plot people are coming up with for her to meet and then fall in love with him. Sarah did talk of how she discussed what plans she had for Elain, and for Mor, and for Az. And while she didn't mention Lucien in that moment she also didn't mention a female romantic interest for Mor or a romantic interest for Az either. To me, it sort of sounds like Sarah was discussing the "lead" character for a book or spin-off while leaving the love interest a surprise. Honestly, I think the absence of Lucien's name and absence of people discussing the Elucien bond is more telling than if they were being mentioned in conversation together. Elain and Lucien had the most shocking mating bond reveals of any of Sarah's series yet I'm supposed to believe they and their bond rarely come up in any of the more recent interviews Sarah has done? It's one of the bigger unresolved plot-points to date yet it's supposed to be realistic that she's never getting questions on "What will Elain do about her bond?" "Is Lucien getting frustrated by their situation?" "Will Elain ever get to know Lucien?" I remember someone asking something before the novella came out and her response was like, "you might get answers about Elain and her bond" yet all we got was her suddenly ignoring Lucien (and no E/riel lurkers, that is not actually a true decision since Nesta began ignoring Cassian in the same book) but still not rejecting him almost two years later which means the question STILL exists to all readers.

That Elain and Lucien's names are NEVER mentioned in her interviews when they do share a bond makes me think it's intentional on her part, where she said they're off the table during discussions. Which does make sense because if you're going to mate two characters, which seems like an obvious "they're ending up together" setup, it's a smart move to have Elain ignoring him in the book and completely shut down the conversation surrounding them outside of it so it will read as more of a surprise to some. Definitely to many E/riels who are convinced we're delusional to believe Elain and Lucien could still happen.

[silverview]

i thought i'd do a self-indulgent little roundup post about my birthday, so i can look back on it someday and get emo about how lovely it was :')

concludes with my s/f report from the thursday evening show, all spoilers clearly marked!!

on the day itself i got some amazing gift fics from @donotbelasagne, @batatadulce9 & @kookaburrito (in order of posting), which was completely unexpected & wonderful 💕💕 if you like freaky rpf then you probably know where to find them! AND...

kooka also sent me this reece locket and this AMAZING lazoo doll which. i actually started yelling when i opened it & saw what it was. LOOK AT HIM. LOOK AT MY HORRID BABY

this is why i had to post the stitchup showdown opening, to at least provide context if not an explanation for my love for him 💗

my bf got me some amazing presents too, and we saw stage/fright – his 1st time, my 5th. details about the show further down, but first...!!

💕 REECE HUGGED ME!! 💕 and wished me happy birthday!!! 💕 he is the absolute sweetest and i just... yeah no words. i have rewatched the video of it a million times already. i was wearing heels so it was a biiit of a stretch for him to reach 🙈

i think this confirms he's not on ao3 lol because when i said "it's my birthday!" he didn't go pale and say "YOU! >:O"

on friday i had the best day with the lovely @spcvarney 💗 & we did a tour of the wyndham's!! she posted about this already, but the staff told us that reece has been claiming to feel ghosts touching his shoulder & stuff in the theatre 👻 of course he has

supposedly he had the same experience back in 2005 when he did as you like it there. no wonder he seems so happy there. they said that the alleged ghost has a history of reacting badly to swearing, and especially to the word cunt. 🫢

they let us go onstage, which was amazing. they asked us not to take photos of the stage/fright set & props. so of course i didn't. :) it really is an amazingly beautiful place

yesterday was my birthday party & it was rlly nice to see my family & friends, including some wonderful in9 fans, and i had the BEST time nerding out with them in person 💗 @wintersoulwitch managed to come by IN BETWEEN the evening & matinee s/f performances which was actual legend behaviour, & their varney tshirt was easily a highlight of the whole experience

at the party itself i found out that i didn't just pass my january exams (the ones that made me wish i was dead), i actually nailed them 😭😭

@mifhortunach came a long way for the party & i can't say how exciting that was 🥹❤️ we've been friends for the longest time & every time we hang out irl i have so much fun. they were the one who introduced me to in9 in the first place, so that was a nice full circle moment 😅

today i was so wrecked that i slept all morning & only woke up in time to see them off. it has been a very... VERY intense three days & this post can't possibly capture it all but yeah, these are just some highlights

i feel really lucky. i love my friends, including the ones not mentioned here & the ones who don't know that i think of them as friends. idk how i come across on here, or in person. i'm not someone who has never been deeply lonely & shy & insecure. being in this fandom is one of the strangest & loveliest things that's ever happened to me, because the people are amazing. sometimes i think about how it won't last forever, but that's okay, i'll enjoy it for as long as it lasts

my time gets stretched pretty thin. i'm never on here as much as i'd like to be, & i usually don't reply to people as fast as i'd like to. a lot of in9 fans are in the uk, so my nocturnal habits are pretty antisocial. thanks for being kind to me & patient with me :')

⚠️ stage/fright spoilers beyond this point!!! ⚠️

thursday eve was a GREAT performance!! the audio is mostly me + my bf cackling with joy. the audience were well up for it. really enthusiastic, laughing a lot. the whole play felt looser and more energetic than usual, everyone in the cast was clearly vibing

reece especially – marcus was sassier and more over-the-top than usual, and he corpsed a bunch during kidnappers, covering his mouth with his hand. on "i know how to answer the phone" he did a little jig for no reason and then burst out laughing at himself

speaking of kidnappers, the guest was julian clary (jewel ink lairy) and he was FANTASTIC, so so funny. he called s&r "heterosexual cunts" & i think the looks on their faces can best be described as delighted astonishment

i should point out that my straight, non-fandom, comedy writer bf feels that the "pudgy & homosexual" line IS most likely a reference to s&r themselves 💁🏻‍♀️

hugo's gloves were among the props left out onstage. plus the ghost light, gramophone, creepy jars, and trepanning chair from that segment. and the hare (we think it was The Hare)

the boys skipped some fairly important dialogue in their last scene: the reference to bcdr and the explanation as to why the song was cut. not sure what happened but i think reece just fastforwarded a bit by mistake. it still worked and it was still absolutely perfect. ❤️

i had happy tears in my eyes all through the song. reece was audibly belting it out and clearly having the time of his absolute life.

when miranda hennessy came out of the stage door, there was a huge cheer from a group of women across the alley who yelled "we know her!" she ran over to them & they all hugged & laughed & they said how proud they were :')))

[waynes-multiverse]

Already so in love with the start of this chapter! A girl who can eat is a girl after my heart 🫶 (and apparently Russell's lol)

“Good god. You have never been more attractive to me, which is saying something.” You slurped again, Russell letting his curiosity in your eating habits fade away in favor of the elephant in the room.

Girl, you and I have the same headcanon about this! He needs someone with super weird food habits 😂🫶

And I loved her then suddenly trying to get rid of him and coming up with the lamest excuse in the book before threathening him lol. Glad he saw right through that! And this made me melt 🫠:

“Forget I said anything.” You stood up, Russell matching the movement and catching your bicep before you could take a step. Yes, he was injured but even one armed, he had enough raw strength in him to keep you from leaving. “Tell me or I dig on my own and make things a lot riskier for both of us.” He dropped his hand, nodding to the seat. Russell sighed. “I trusted you. You can do the same.”

Oh, and it is a mafia thing! 👀 Phew, that's a tough job for Russell (not that I doubt his abilities, but she is right – he's only one man. You're not planning on breaking my heart, are you? 😅)

“Like my home?” He stared blankly, eyes drifting down to your chest. “The flirting was cute. Eye-fucking me in my kitchen, not so much.” “You have sauce all over your shirt.”

Oh, he got real lucky there, didn't he? He must've loved this 😂😂

“Because knowing how to get stains out of all types of fabrics is kind of necessary in my line of work,” he said, opening a few cabinets before finding the one with the plates. “Now. Can you put the knife you thought you grabbed without me seeing back and we have a civilized conversation over pizza?”

I'm so in love with this characterization of him here! Behind all the goofiness and bad flirting still hides that smart killing machine, and you portray that so well throughout their entire conversation 🖤

“The paranoia got to dad. He would take me on these weekend hunting trips all the time and teach me survival skills and medical stuff and I was a fucking kid, Russell. I didn’t want to do that shit but dad was…twitchy.

I love reading more of her backstory, and obviously Russell can relate since he grew up similarily. I see some romance brewing and bonding happening here 😍

You’re going to park in the visitors lot and go to the airstream in lot 4. It’ll be isolated. You knock on the door and there’ll be a guy inside. Colter. You stay with him, go wherever he goes and do whatever he tells you to without question. You don’t leave his side until I come and get you, understand?”

Knowing her, I don't see this working out well for Colter. Poor guy will have his hands full with her 😂

You woke up around six thirty, jolting up in your bed to find a very wet and nearly naked Colter trying to pick up a mug he’d dropped.  “Well good morning,” you said, his hand in a death grip on the towel just barely concealing him away.

I don't mind this at all 😏

The commitment to him being shirtless on this show is for real, tho 🫠 (And PS: I saw you wrote for Colter too! I totally have to check that out! Justin Hartley had me in a chokehold since This Is Us. He rows right into the "lovable and stupidly hot idiot" category that I've fallen victim to lol.)

And not only did she bond with Russell in this part but also with Colter. Seriously loved every minute of their conversation! And considering Russell sent her to his brother, who he hasn't spoken to in so long, speaks volumes how much he trusts Colter. Colter seeing that too was such a precious moment 😭🫶

Sure, Colter was hot but Russell…well the image of that man in nothing but a towel as water dripped down his body…

Agree! The ruggedness and roughness (the beard) certainly adds a few plus points 🔥😏

“And? What am I saying?” you asked, staring him down.

I was gonna say, she should be careful with that challenge, and his answer did not disappoint! It was gold 🤣🤣🤣

And I totally didn't expect her to stay with Colter for days, drive across the country, and join him on a case! This is such a cool twists and I'm loving their hangout dynamic 😁 I do have an inkling Russell will be jealous of their bonding and probably scold Colter for taking her on a case lmao

“He knows what he’s doing. A job like this, he’s got to do a lot of prep work and he’s got to put a crew together. Trusted friends. Try not to worry.”

Ooooh I know you read the books and this reminded me so much of the crew book!Russell worked with!!! 👏

I was so relieved when he came back in one piece! And that little present for her was so sweet and thoughtful 🥹 The note, on the other hand, was hilarious 😂

But why the angst at the end there? No they were supposed to be happy! Sunset, rainbows, unicorns, glitter!!! I will suffer in the next part, won't I? 😅

This was such an amazing chapter from start to finish! I thoroughly enjoyed all their conversations, their dynamics, the humor mixed with seriousness and feelings. Loved every second of this! 🩵

He's My Man (Part 2)

Summary: The reader isn't quite so sure if she can trust Russell with her secrets but he's decided she's going to get his help, whether she wants it or not. Reluctantly she accepts but in the process realizes she might actually be starting to care about him...

Masterlist

Pairing: Russell Shaw x reader

Word Count: 4,500ish

Warnings: language, gun shot injury mention, mentions of death, angst, fluff

A/N: Ooooh things are heating up! Please enjoy!

__________

Russell stared at you with what one could only describe as a look of wonder. You didn’t exactly blame him. Eating four large cheese danishes and chugging back a week’s worth of coffee in the span of fifteen minutes was enough to make anyone’s eyes widen.

You tossed your trash in his motel waste bin when you finished and returned to your seat at the tiny corner table. With an obnoxiously loud slurp of even more coffee, Russell titled his head, shaking it slightly.

“Good god. You have never been more attractive to me, which is saying something.” You slurped again, Russell letting his curiosity in your eating habits fade away in favor of the elephant in the room. He straightened in his seat, pausing a beat. “So. What’s this long story?”

Your fingertips rattled against the side of the large styrofoam cup, a small amount of heat radiating through. Now that you’d had some time to think, or rather stress eat, you knew this was a mistake. A big one. You needed to kick Russell out of your life and the sooner the better.

“I think you have the wrong idea about what’s going on and I thought it better we talk in private,” you said. Russell wore a weary expression, his eyes dissecting your every micro-movement. “I’m not interested in a relationship or a date or conversation. I don’t do that considering my line of work and I imagine you keep things casual with yours. So you take your money and consider this a warning. Contact me again and I will have you dealt with, understand?”

Russell leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms with a clenched jaw. You narrowed your eyes in response, Russell picking at his bandage without realizing. 

“Stop that,” you mumbled when he kept doing it, his lip twitching up in a not so friendly way.

“You threaten me and in the next breath are worried about my damn stitches? I don’t think you realize just how good I am at my job,” he said, placing both hands on the table, folding them together. You swallowed, Russell staring so intently you had to glance away. “Alright. Back at the coffee shop, that was a moment of bravery and now it’s passed? Tough shit. We’re in the weeds now and we ain’t leaving until I know you do your job of your own free will. Understand?”

“Forget I said anything.” You stood up, Russell matching the movement and catching your bicep before you could take a step. Yes, he was injured but even one armed, he had enough raw strength in him to keep you from leaving.

“Tell me or I dig on my own and make things a lot riskier for both of us.” He dropped his hand, nodding to the seat. Russell sighed. “I trusted you. You can do the same.”

“You’re one guy.” You shook your head. “Drop this or you’ll wind up dead or worse.”

“I made my living doing jobs where if I fucked up I’d wish I were dead over the alternative. I know how to keep a secret. Maybe I can help, maybe I can’t. But you opened the box. You can’t just close it again.”

“Yes, I can. Goodbye, Russell.” You grabbed your coffee and headed for the door, pausing when you had a hand on the handle.

But what if he could help…he was ex-special ops…

Russell’s hand slid over yours, giving it a gentle squeeze. You frowned, a reassuring smile greeting you.

“Do you like your job?” he asked. 

“S’complicated,” you whispered.

“How complicated?”

“Jobs like yours…that’s up to me to do that stuff but I…I work for someone else.” You found Russell’s unreadable green eyes and sighed. “I’m a fixer for the local mafia. It’s not a job you get to quit and stay alive very long.”

Russell contemplated your words, lips forming a thin line before he nodded. “I can take care of that assuming your story checks out.”

“My story?” you asked, Russell humming. “Why would I lie-”

“You could be playing me for any number of reasons. Like I said, I’m going to check your story out and if it’s all kosher, we’ll figure out where to go from there. Capiche?”

“Fine,” you grit out, shaking his hand away. “But do it quietly. You got three days.”

Late Evening

Your eye actually twitched when you answered your front door that night to find not your pizza delivery man before you but Russell fucking Shaw. He wore a deep navy utility jacket that hung loosely around his trim waist and a pair of black jeans. You weren’t sure why but his shift from lighter colored clothing this morning to this dark, edgy look made him look as dangerous as you expected he was.

“Russell,” you said. He didn’t bother hiding his smirk, eyes roaming over your body. You glanced down at your soft pale yellow pajama shirt and matching shorts set, huffing when he slipped past you inside.

“You totally are the kind of woman to having matching jammies,” he chuckled. You gripped the door tight, ready to kick him out just as your delivery driver pulled up.

“Just…take off your boots.” Two minutes later you had your pizza and garlic knots on your kitchen counter while Russell leaned back against it, his jacket since removed and tossed on the back of your couch. He wore a black zip up that was undone over a black t-shirt, Russell shifting at your growing unease.

“Listen,” he said, holding up his hands. “You got questions but first off, I’m not here to hurt you. This is just what I wear when I need to go…looking around places I ain’t exactly invited into.”

“Like my home?” He stared blankly, eyes drifting down to your chest. “The flirting was cute. Eye-fucking me in my kitchen, not so much.”

“You have sauce all over your shirt.” You glanced down, spotting marinara drops all over your short sleeve button up top from where you’d had the edge of the pizza box pressed against your torso as you’d carried it in. “Thanks for thinking so highly of me, though. Makes a guy feel special.”

“I’m on edge, alright?” you snapped, grabbing a towel and trying to get most of the sauce out. “Plus I just ruined a two hundred dollar shirt.”

“Figured you for a oversized men’s t-shirts kind of gal but little sets from french boutiques suites you.” You froze, Russell dropping his hands. “I know all about your shopping habits. You have high quality taste, much richer than the average suburbanite.”

“And?” you said, tossing the towel down, hands going to your hips. “Are you about to kidnap me and turn me over to the mafia or what?”

Russell approached you slowly, gently picking up the towel from the floor and dabbing it with some dish soap. 

“If I had wanted to hurt you or take you or whatever else is going through your head, you wouldn’t have seen me coming.” He rubbed the towel against the damp spot on your shirt, letting the fabric get soapy. “Let that soak for a few minutes and then after you have some dinner, toss it in the wash. It’ll come out good as new.”

“How do you know that?” you asked, Russell hanging your towel on the oven handle. 

“Because knowing how to get stains out of all types of fabrics is kind of necessary in my line of work,” he said, opening a few cabinets before finding the one with the plates. “Now. Can you put the knife you thought you grabbed without me seeing back and we have a civilized conversation over pizza?”

You weren’t sure how he’d seen you swipe the knife from the butchers block but figured he had a point. If he’d wanted to screw you over, he would have done it already. After excusing yourself, you returned in a pair of skinny black joggers and a slightly cropped gray AC/DC shirt to find Russell had already plated two sizeable portions for yourselves. 

“See? Now that’s a look more fitting for the princess of darkness,” he chuckled.

“That’s queen of darkness to you,” you said, taking a seat at the island in front of one of the plates. “Do me a favor, lover boy. Grab me a guinness from the fridge.”

“Dark stout. Always a good choice.” He got out two, removing the cap for you before retreating to the other side of the island.

“As much as I love uninvited house guests who welcome themselves to my food and beer, why are you here, Russell?” You took a large bite of pizza, Russell long necking his beer for a moment. 

“Yet I don’t see you kicking me out. It’s okay to admit you’ve fallen for me, Y/N,” he teased. You growled, Russell’s eyebrows raising in amusement. “Hot damn, woman. I love when you get all grr. Tells me you are a force to be reckoned with.”

You rolled your eyes, Russell taking an extra large bite. “Stop flirting and talk.”

“Why can’t I do both?” he asked, not waiting for an answer. “But to answer your original question, I’m here because your story checked out and that’s kind of a problem.”

“Excuse me? Why is that an issue?”

He set his plate down and gripped the island, leaning over it slightly. “Y/N. I can call up a few friends and wipe out a local mafia family no problem.”

“Awesome. Then what’s the fucking problem?” Russell tilted his head, like you’d just walked into some kind of trap he’d set.

“Y/N. Despite all the obvious sexual tension brewing between us, you failed to mention that you have a boyfriend. You know, the head of this fucking mafia family. The boyfriend that buys you those fancy french pajama sets? The one that bought that espresso machine over there? Girl, you better explain yourself because I am not a hired gun.”

You chewed quietly for a few moments under the heated scrutiny of Russell’s gaze before you pushed the plate away.

“My dad was an accomplished doctor. He was very well respected. I grew up very comfortably until I was about eight.” Russell loosened his stance and began to eat while you decided what he needed to absolutely know. “My dad unknowingly saved a mobster’s life one night in the ER. Mr. Lauter.”

“The former head of the mafia and this guy, Owen, your supposed boyfriend’s dad?” You nodded before taking a big swig from your bottle.

“Well, that pissed off Mr. Elpine who had almost had a successful hit on Mr. Lauter. Elpine tried to get my dad to kill Lauter. Dad refused and the next morning on the way to school, the brake lines in our car didn’t work. Dad and I walked away. Mom and my brother didn’t. Dad was scared Elpine would come after me again.”

“Your father went to Lauter for protection,” said Russell. You picked up your pizza as he put together the rest of the pieces. “Lauter offers him protection for saving his life but something happens and your dad ends up working for Lauter as his fixer.”

“The paranoia got to dad. He would take me on these weekend hunting trips all the time and teach me survival skills and medical stuff and I was a fucking kid, Russell. I didn’t want to do that shit but dad was…twitchy. PTSD for sure, a mental break too. I always guessed there was some brain trauma after the accident that never healed. He got real bad when I went to college. Bad enough that Lauter stepped in when my dad attacked me when I came home for the holidays. Lauter killed him and the fucked up part was I wasn’t even upset. My real dad had died when I was a kid. But…when a mob boss kills for you whether you wanted them to or not-”

“They think they own you for life.” You nodded. “So you became the fixer.”

“They let me finish college under the condition I come back and work for the family. They leave me be except for when I need to patch someone in the crew up. It’s honestly not that bad. They gave me a lot of money over the years. I hate to say this but Mr. Lauter was pretty good to me.”

Russell cleared his throat. “You do know how fucked up what he did to you is, right?”

“Of course I do,” you said, closing your eyes. “But compared to my dad and Owen, he was the lesser evil.”

“I came across the fact Mr. Lauter died about three weeks ago from heart disease.” You hummed. “Tell me about this fuckface, Owen.”

“Dude has had a crush on me since he was fucking twelve. He has it in his head that the family owns me, literally. Lauter always reined him in but since he’s been gone, Owen’s been…pushy. Telling the crew I’m his girlfriend, asking them to follow me. Thankfully, and this is why this is so weird, I grew up around a lot of the guys. Making me work and fix people, fine. But some kind of forced romance? They aren’t cool with it, at least they’re kind of ignoring Owen. I’ve kept Owen off my back because he’s grieving and busy trying to take over but he’s going to back on my ass soon. This time, those guys will have to listen to their new boss.”

“So…I take out Owen and you think you’re in the clear. You could have just said that.” He finished off his beer and washed his hands at the sink. “Here’s what we’re going to do. You’re going grab essentials, and I mean essentials, while I pack up your dinner in what I expect is some color coordinated tupperware. Then you’re going to take my car and drive to Elmhurst Camping Grounds. It’s about four hours north of here and no, you will stop for anything so use the bathroom before you go and I’ll pack you a snack. You’re going to park in the visitors lot and go to the airstream in lot 4. It’ll be isolated. You knock on the door and there’ll be a guy inside. Colter. You stay with him, go wherever he goes and do whatever he tells you to without question. You don’t leave his side until I come and get you, understand?”

“I feel like if I ask questions you’ll just tell me I don’t want to know.” Russell smirked.

“I love that big brain of yours.” You rolled your eyes but felt a tiny smile on your face. “Warming up to me are we?”

“Fuck no. But uh, who the hell are you sending me to?”

“My baby brother. Don’t worry. His ugly mug will keep you safe.”

Four Hours Later

“Uh, hi,” you said, practically bouncing up and down at midnight in front of a strange tall man at a very nice airstream RV. 

“Y/N,” he said as you forced a smile. “Bathroom is right there-”

You darted past him and into the small cubby bathroom, grateful after the long drive. The man was waiting leaned against a small counter space when you exited, a temporary bed made up behind him in what looked like a breakfast nook.

“Sorry to barge in. Russell said not to stop for anything.” 

“S’alright,” he said. “Bed’s made up if you want to crash. I’m going to stay up a bit longer by the fire. You’re welcome to join if you like.”

“Thanks, uh…” you said, a very brief smile on his face as you tried to remember what Russell had called him.

“Colter. It’s not a problem.” He skirted by you and outside, taking a seat in a foldable camping chair. You had questions but for the moment, all you wanted was to get some rest. 

You woke up around six thirty, jolting up in your bed to find a very wet and nearly naked Colter trying to pick up a mug he’d dropped. 

“Well good morning,” you said, his hand in a death grip on the towel just barely concealing him away.

“Morning,” he said, slowly backing up to the bedroom. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”

“Not a problem,” you said, catching a whiff of coffee. 

“Mug are in the first cabinet if you want a cup. I’ll be out in a minute,” he said. He excused himself to his room and slid the divider shut, leaving you to the rest of the airstreamer. 

A moment later you were outside in front of a small fire, sitting in a chair with warm coffee in your hands. It was cool and you wished you’d thought to pack a jacket in your haste last night.

You were rubbing your arms when something was draped over your shoulders, a thick heavy hoodie. 

“Russell got you out of there pretty quick, huh?” asked Colter, taking the mug while you shrugged into the warm fleece.

“Yeah. All I grabbed was my wallet, some cash and my computer. He told me I could buy clothes here,” you said. Colter handed you back the mug and took a seat beside you.

“I checked his car. He had a duffel full of his clothes in there I brought inside. You can use his stuff, or mine, until we can hit a store.”

“Thanks,” you said, smelling Russell’s deodorant on the fabric. Colter saw you tug the hood up, a question on the tip of his tongue but he decided against it. The air was still and quiet apart from the crackle of fire and morning birds. 

“So,” said Colter, not looking at you as he drank. “You and Russell…you like, his girlfriend-”

“No,” you said, shaking your head. “I just met the guy yesterday. All I did was patch him up.”

“Right.” You sunk lower in your chair, slurping loudly.

“Were you special ops like him?” you asked. Colter shook his head.

“Civilian. Never had any formal training, just what we grew up with.” Well, that was an interesting statement. What the hell did it mean though? “Our father was a survivalist, taught us things.”

“Oh. My dad was a little out there too.” Was that why Russell was so adamant about helping you out of your situation? No. Maybe it played a part, but no. He’d wanted to help before you told him that. “Does Russell do this sort of thing often?”

“No clue. First time I talked to him in years was two days ago. I helped him find a friend of his. I was there when he got that bullet hole in him you fixed.”

Alrighty then. Russell was becoming more and more intriguing by the second. 

“So you don’t know a lot about him then,” you said. Colter shrugged.

“I guess I’m figuring him out too but he’s a good guy. He’s somebody you want as a friend.” You hummed, finishing your coffee off. Colter excused himself to get you more and returned with a fresh cup, steam billowing from within. 

“You trail run?” you asked, Colter’s eyes showing a flash of surprise. “Muddy sneakers by the door. I did cross country in school.”

“I try to get out most mornings. The hot water should be good to go in about five minutes if you want a shower.” 

“Thanks.” You licked your lips as you remembered the sight of him exiting the bathroom not long ago. Sure, Colter was hot but Russell…well the image of that man in nothing but a towel as water dripped down his body…You shifted in your seat, squeezing your legs together to try and get a hold of yourself. Colter smirked slightly in his seat. “What?”

“I’m good at reading people is all.”

“And? What am I saying?” you asked, staring him down. Colter only smiled as he looked away to the fire.

“You’re wondering if Russell works out and picturing him naked.” You glared at him but it did nothing to hide the heat radiating off your cheeks. “Hey, you’re a grown woman. You can do as you please.”

“I think I will take that shower now.” You stood and set the mug down on the ground, shooting Colter one last look. There’d been no malice or teasing in his voice. He was simply being straight with you. “Listen. I just…I haven’t exactly been around good guys much, or ever. I’m not saying there’s anything there beyond physical attraction, okay?”

“Okay,” he said, looking at you like you were the worst liar in the world. “Whatever you say.”

You grumbled and went inside to take a very cold shower.

Three Days Later - Spokane, Washington

“Hey, Colt,” you said, pushing up the long sleeves of Russell’s gray henley you wore. Colter hummed around the piece of grilled chicken in his mouth as you spun your laptop around from the other side of the airstream’s dining table. “Could she have gone here? Looks like a decommissioned game trail.”

“Yeah, yeah that fits,” he said with his mouth full, chewing and swallowing quickly so he could take a closer look. You returned to your own dinner, Colter mentioning he was going to take a look after dark. 

Things had fallen into an easy pattern with the two of you. Colter was very different than his brother but it wasn’t a bad thing. He didn’t talk much and worked as a rewardist. He’d planned on sticking around the east coast for when Russell met up with you again but an urgent case in Washington popped up. You’d spent most of the past three days driving cross-country behind Colter’s truck and the airstreamer, learning what the hell a rewardist was.

Colter had told you about the case at first to keep your mind off of Russell but you’d reluctantly taken an interest and now were deep in the weeds of helping him locate a missing young woman.

“You want to come look with me?” asked Colter, breaking you out of your train of thought. You blinked, a small smile on his face. “Come on. It’ll get you some experience with rewardest work and stop you from doom scrolling.”

“Alright,” you sighed. While you appreciated Colter’s attempts to make you feel better, you were starting to get very concerned. You hadn’t heard from Russell since you left your house a few days ago and there was nothing in the news about the local mafia members being killed. Or him.

Colter rubbed your back when you helped him unhook it from the airstream. He tended to do that when you started to get stressed out. He hadn’t been lying before. He really was good at reading people. 

“Colter,” you said in the dark truck, the hum of the vehicle quiet in the cab as he drove. “What if something happened to him and he needs our help?”

“He knows what he’s doing. A job like this, he’s got to do a lot of prep work and he’s got to put a crew together. Trusted friends. Try not to worry.” You bit your bottom lip as you stared out the window, trees passing by. 

If only it were that simple.

It was two in the morning by the time you and Colter made it back to the camping grounds. You’d found Martha in not too great of shape but she was alive and the doctors said she’d make a full recovery with time. Colter has tried to give you some of the reward money for helping but you hadn’t done all that much in your opinion. 

“Stay here,” he said when he turned the truck into your lot and you spotted a dark figure sitting by the fire. He took his gun from the back of jeans and got out, pausing halfway out the door. He smiled over at you and you caught the dark figure give an awkward little wave. “Should I tell him how much you’ve been worried?”

“Not. A. Word. Colter,” you said before hopping out and happily rushing over to where Russell rose to his feet. You didn’t realize you were giving him a hug until he was laughing, returning it and lifting you off the ground. 

“I missed my queen of darkness too,” he chuckled, setting you down with a smirk. You scoffed, Russell’s eyebrows raising at your attire. “Is that my jacket? And shirt?”

“Why waste the money on new stuff,” you shrugged, Russell grinning like an idiot. “Stop that.”

“I’m sure that was the reason.” Colter came over, the boys sharing a nod. “You keep my little delinquent out of trouble?”

“She’s a breeze,” said Colter, taking a seat. “Even helped with my latest case. She should try the rewardist thing. She’s good at it.”

“Maybe. All I want to know is am I good?” you asked. Russell took your hand in his and gave it a gentle squeeze. He nodded, the tension running of out your body. “Thank you, Russell. Thank your friends too. I’ll pay you guys-”

“No payment. This was because you’re my friend, plain and simple. Just knowing you’re safe is more than enough.” You smiled, letting yourself rest your head against his shoulder. “You should rest. We’ll talk in the morning.”

“How-”

“In the morning. I need to catch up with my little brother.” You nodded, enjoying the feel of his heavy hand as it ran over your head. “Go sleep, Y/N. You’re exhausted.”

You reluctantly peeled yourself away and went inside to find your makeshift bed had been done up for you already. You didn’t even try to fight the flutters in your stomach when you spotted a yellow pajama shirt and shorts set neatly folded on top. There was a note beside it, a stupid ass smile finding it’s way onto your face.

Brand new. Imported from France. Don’t get used to fancy ass presents like these. I ain’t made of money. Even if these are soft as fuck and I totally wish they made these for men. I still think you’d look better wearing a band tee to bed.

Russ

P.S. They had a sale so I got you something else too. Check your backpack.

You shook your head and grabbed your bag from the floor, taking out a very elegant black bag. You undid the tissue paper and went wide eyed. 

Inside was a very, very, fancy black lace bra and multiple pairs of gorgeous bikini style undies in soft muted colors. There was another note waiting for you inside, your heart stilling.

No strings attached. Hopefully these will cover you for a little while until you can get settled again.

“Oh, Russell,” you said quietly, thumbing over the bag, smiling to yourself as your insides did very happy backflips.

He wasn’t just a pretty and protective face. He was thoughtful too.

And you were starting to fall for a guy that’d most likely be gone by this time tomorrow.

Fuck.

__________

A/N: Read Part 3 here!

[notthecutesttrash]

No Love Lost

Satoru Gojo x sister! reader

This is PLATONIC

Content: Gojo is your big brother that you hate so much. You'd do anything to get him out of your life, but he's overbearing and simply won't allow that.

Warnings: ANGST, Gojo is protective and annoying, but he's Gojo.

Word count: 7.2k

With every fiber of your being, you hate Satoru Gojo. When you wake up, you hate him, in your dreams you hate him, when you eat you despise him, and when you lock eyes with him you want to punch him.

Reading is a nice activity, your brain quiets, and at times the words come to life and vacuum yourself inside its world. Satoru was there, and you hated that he was. He's bored, and you know he is, for he has so few friends that his main time was bothering his kid sister who didn't even like him.

He's talking, and you're ignoring him, or at least trying to. He already went on a tangent about how reading was boring and how you're a nerd, but when it didn't get through he began talking about his missions. His special grade, super fun, and classified missions that he couldn't tell you about, yet you hear about every detail anyway.

"So then I went up, and this dude tried to pick a fight with me almost right away, I mean seriously, it was pathetic. He didn't even last more than a second. I mean, why go on this whole supervillain monologue if you can't even handle a punch? Of course, the punch was by me, if you punched him that'd be different. He probably would've lasted a minute."

You turned the page of your book and swung your legs over the other. Right now the main character, Elaine was brushing up against her crush, you couldn't miss this for a second.

"I can't imagine what it's like being you, a grade three? If I couldn't go on these missions, I'd probably be depressed, what's the point of being a sorcerer if you can't have any use of it in the real world?" Satoru shakes his head to himself and brushes his fringe from his eyes.

Your heart is in your throat at the scene, surely they were about to kiss. They're near each other, and she's blushing, tucking a hair behind her ear. You breathe heavily, intently reading until suddenly you're staring at your hands.

Satoru reads a blurb and gags. "I can't believe you read this stuff, god that is sad, don't you think it's time for a boyfriend?" His throw lands the book gently back in your hands, and you slightly furrow.

"There's only so much protecting I can do anyways.

You get up from your chair and begin walking. "Oh come on, don't be so lame, I'm just joking...You really do need a boyfriend though. But I'd feel sorry for whoever the poor sucker is." Satoru is following a little ways behind, his arms stretching behind him with a yawn.

Words fall from your lips, wrapped in a harsh tone. "I don't like annoying people. Go away."

"Speak for yourself, you and Utahime are practically besties." Satoru reaches your pace, walking beside you.

Your eyes roll. "Well, Utahime doesn't piss me off. And she has respect, for that matter."

"Why all the hate, lil sis? I'm just trying to help you." Satoru grins wide, giggling like a jerk. He wasn't, he never was, he just wanted to make you mad.

In fact, as kids, it was even worse. Your mother surely favored him since he was so special, he had one amazing ability, let alone 2. His glowing eyes always reminded you of that when you sat and ate dinner across another.

Then whenever you wanted to play, and he would repeatedly say no and to play with your stupid dolls, you'd have to go crying to mom just to get a little bit of fun. Then when you'd be stuck with Satoru during ball, he'd throw your way so hard, if you didn't dodge it would've wiped your head clean off. When it'd disappear, like always, he'd shrug and go "Looks like we can't play."

When you were readying yourself to go on a stroll one day, he walked out and asked what you were doing. You were tying your shoe laces and you paid him no mind until done. Letting yourself hit the floor, you smiled and said "Going for a walk."

Before you could even make two steps, he flat-out said "No." You turned to him, narrowing your eyes.

"What do you mean, no?" You emphasized, annoyed.

"As in, no, you're not going for a walk, because you can't." Satoru was stoic, and his eyes simply glowed at you.

You crossed your arms. "And why can't I?"

"Because I forbid it." He said matter of factly.

You laughed dryly at that. "Oh pardon me, I didn't know you were dad. Yeah, I don't think so, I'm going for a walk. I know it hurts to see me have fun, but suck it up and deal with it, just like I do every day."

He stayed quiet for a moment, and you met his gaze bravely, both unwavering. The level of anger rising in your chest was surreal, who did he think he was? Then he turned and went back inside and you scoffed and said "Didn't think so."

It was only a few moments that had passed before your mother and father dragged you back, exclaiming in worry that you were unfit to do these things. You saw Satoru on their side, staring at you when you tried to reason with them.

"It's just a walk! Are you serious? You let Satoru go on walks almost every day!" You were gesturing angrily with your words at this point, and your mom sighed, placing a hand on your shoulder.

"That's because Satoru is strong, (Y/n), he inherited the limitless and six eyes, what if something happened while you were on your own? We'd have no way of knowing, and you wouldn't be able to handle it." She smiled a little as if hoping you'd just understand suddenly, that realization would hit your mind and you'd go "Ah okay." But instead, you were glaring at your brother, a fury gnawing at your clenched jaw.

"I hate you." You said before walking off, and you remember your parents gasping and saying how rude that was, and to come back and apologize at once. Satoru didn't say anything, he didn't follow your steps or track you.

You ignored them. The two people who were supposed to advocate for you, the two people who could really say something and let you do whatever you wanted. But they never did, he always said something about how "dangerous" anything was and swayed them instantaneously.

That was the first time you said it.

As a kid, you would even throw out, "I'm never going to speak to you again!" over and over until it never meant anything. But it does now.

You slammed your door as hard as a child can muster and repeated to yourself until then that you would hate him forever.

The next memory that you thought of so vaguely, was when you were on a date with a man you really liked. Maybe it wouldn't have worked, but you didn't know that then.

You sat across him, having several good conversations after another, and a few times he made you genuinely laugh. Whenever he spoke, you absorbed into his words like you were reading. Whenever he laughed, you laughed, whenever he smiled, you smiled. It was infectious.

Your concentration broke soon enough as you heard a chair screeching against the floor of the restaurant. Others stared in disdain, annoyed at the sudden intrusion to their ears. You didn't even want to look. Somehow, you had a feeling, you didn't know how, but you just did.

When you turned, Satoru was there, pressing his chair uncomfortably close to the table, and turning it towards him, so he could sit and lean his arms against the back of it. His jaw rested against the top and he watched you two with a sudden grin.

The heat of shame enveloped your cheeks and soon made your hands stammer with discomfort. Your date blinked awkwardly at him, and you held your forehead in your hands, scared of what he was going to say.

"Hey lil sis," he grinned, eyeing the man across you. Eyeing was an understatement, he was flat out making him uncomfortable, and your date shifted in his chair as gently as he could without arousing suspicion.

You wanted to argue right then and there if not for that man, you wished so bad you did.

"So tell me, what brings you here?" Satoru flat out asked, his face inching uncomfortably close to your date. The man scooted a little away, clearing his throat. Safe to say, he didn't know how to respond, naturally you wouldn't have either, especially not in front of your crush and their sibling.

Before he could even get a full response, Satoru started weirdly quizzing him. From "Gotta job?" to "Top 3 favorite movies, go!"

Your hand was gripping your fork tight, and the rage had you shaking in your seat as you watched him try to familiarize himself. Your food was becoming chopped liver, and he barely cared that this was breaking your boundaries by a long shot. He couldn't have just done this at any other moment, or simply have had the decency to ask.

"Let's say someone held a gun to your head, just figuratively speaking of course," Satoru leaned in albeit an obvious discomfort in your date "Would you hide? Run? Beg? Or would you fight?" When there was no answer he continued.

"Or you think you'd throw her in the crossfire to get some protection and cower behind her like a little girl?" Satoru's tone was a little less playful, and he lifted his shades. The blue of his eyes shone and sparkled.

"Um.." Again it was silent, and Satoru opened his mouth for another question, maybe even a rude comment for all you knew.

"Satoru." You made eye contact with him, your furrowed brows knitting tight, the flush in your cheeks burning. He returned your expression with a grin.

"What? These are important questions," he leans in close to the man again, narrowing his lids just a little, as if threatening. "I'm just trying to get to know you better." He pushes on the back of the chair, his cheek pressing at the intricate design.

Silence spread at the table, and your brother stared at the man intently, watching every little move and probably determining his entire future in one go. Eventually, it proved to be enough, and your date coughed a little and gently placed his napkin down. He was staring at you like a meek little prey, begging for your help, but you just ignored him, stabbing at your food in an upset, and managing to take a few bites while ignoring the scene completely.

"I think... I should go.." He stood and hesitated, pondering if he should say anything else, perhaps an "I'll call you later," or "It's okay," but instead he just nervously nodded at Satoru and walked off. You knew it was going to happen, and finally, you stopped eating, feeling a sickness in your stomach.

Satoru observed him until the moment he ultimately walked out of that door and was gone completely. "What a letdown, the guy didn't even have a decent movie to pick when I asked, how lame-" he kept talking, and talking, and talking, and you sat there, silent, glaring holes into your meal, your sweaty hands just shaking.

You whispered to yourself, "Unbelievable."

"I know right? Dude is definitely the type to run for his life if anything happened, and worse he can't even see curses, how do you expect him to do anything then? I can't be with you all the time you know, what if a grade 1, or worse a special grade appears, what do you do with a loser like that?"

You politely leave your fork at the side, and with all the fury coursing through your veins, somehow in a split second, your food is thrown at Satoru. It didn't hit him, but that wasn't the point, and he finally stopped.

You rummaged through your bag furiously and threw cash on the table before getting up to leave.

"You're unbelievable."

These thoughts always played in your mind as he walked in front of you, walking backward nonchalantly and smiling like a dork. You stopped and stared at him for a while, annoyed, and he refused to gather a hint. Eventually, through his words, you spoke, forcing him to stop.

"I hate you." Those words left your lips, and Satoru stood still allowing you to walk past him.

The more you walked, the less he followed, and finally you found yourself being completely alone and in a peaceful silence. You entered your dorm, curled yourself into a ball on your bed, and continued reading for the rest of the day.

The next morning you'd have a mission all to yourself, and you'd prove to him that you didn't need his help.

You were forming a veil over an old graveyard. The wilted grass crunched beneath your feet, and you paced quietly past dated tombstones. A gust of wind brushed against your warm skin. Naturally, your weapon tilted in response, and you held it tight with a clammy grip. Grade 4 curse or not, a tightness in your chest prevented you from feeling fearless.

A flicker of blue appeared and vanished at your side, and instinctively you whirled your head to an empty space. It was quiet save for your small breaths, and your fingers trailed against one of the icy tombstones. A groveling noise alerted you. Harsh jarring cries and your head was whipping around to find its location.

"Mom, why'd you have to die.." A sad slurred voice mumbled, and when you turned to your right, you found it. A mass amalgamation sitting at a grave and cradling its oversized puffy legs to its giant irregular head.

"Oh Mom," it trailed again, its voice tuning in and out. You got into a readied stance, and it wasn't even paying attention to you. Blood lurched from its eyes, peeling from its lips as giant fingernails ripped its skin down.

Reaching into your bag, you pulled out a small knife and pitched the blade towards the curse, hoping it would get its attention.

The creature made a drawled-out long moan when It poked its skin and fell to the ground with a thud. The head rotated to you with a sickening twist, and your eyes met for a long beat.

Suddenly a sharp jab smacked you in the side and sent you flying. Your back fell to the floor and with a grunt, you instinctively touched your ribs that squealed in pain. Weapon still in hand, you forced yourself to stand and ready yourself.

The curse moved like goo, jiggling with every movement it made, and leading a path of slime in its wake. Rushing towards it, you swung your blade and carved a deep cut inside its abdomen. Dodging an attack, you did the same towards its back and jabbed your foot into its spine.

The creature tripped and caught its balance in time to turn around and swing at your cheek. Again you bounced on your back and slammed into the ground. Its heavy steps stomped and slushed against crinkled grass. Exhaling a grunt, you pressed your hand into your ribs and forced yourself to stand. You weren't going to go down that easily.

Its large fist aimed at your chest, and you rushed away just in time to press your shoe hard against the back of its knee, making it moan and falter. Your other hand sliced at its skin just barely before it spun and it attempted to land you square in the jaw.

You moved, and it repeated into a trade of jabs and cuts until eventually it found an opening and swung its knee into yours, making you reactively grab it. You were swept off your feet, this time slamming your side against a tombstone.

Groaning, you tried to get up while the curse strolled to you. Blood seeped and poured down its leg, and it seemed a bit slower. It didn't seem right, all of your hits and deep stabs should've killed it by now.

"Oh, mom.." Its drawn-out words made their way to your ears once more, blood cascading down its mismatched eyes. Exhaling a sigh, you pulled your weapon closer, waiting for it to be near.

Slicing your blade into its eye, it cried out, screeching and flailing like a child. It held its damaged eye like a human and wept, repeating its earlier phrases. Growling, you punched it while it was distracted, and although you knew not to test the unpredictability of its limbs, you got greedy. All it took was for one of its hands to beat into you and your body met with a tree.

With all you've done to it, it was too focused on weeping its tears while walking to you so casually, it was insulting. Your hands pressed against the ground, and your ribs ached at the movement. It was coming closer and closer, and you were doing everything you could to stand up.

Just one last time body, one last time and you'd handle it. Mustering all your strength into your legs, you forced them to stand. You were going to do this.

Your eyes met up with the curse again, and it dripped while walking towards you. You found a plan this time. The liquid poured into the grass, its skin peeling like a fruit. You knew what to do. You got into position and held your breath, waiting.

It got a few steps closer.

Waiting.. waiting... waiting... now!

Your muscles were about to break into a sprint, and before they could do that, it stopped.

White hair. Satoru appeared in front of you like some twisted guardian angel, and before you could respond, the curse was blasted away instantaneously. Just like that, all of your work to nothing.

The silence was loud, and what felt like a minute passed before Satoru muttered an annoyed, "What a stupid mistake."

A rage rushed to your head, and your skin was already beginning to burn. Satoru rotated to you and began checking a small bleeding gash on your forehead. You didn't even know what to say, you were dumbfounded and blinded with emotion.

"Man I'm gonna kill those old geezers," he sighed exasperatedly.

"Are you serious?" You asked quietly, more to yourself than anything.

Satoru pulled back to get a read on you, "huh?" He seemed confused.

"Are... you serious?" You emphasized one more time, this time to him. Your eyes were wide, peering into his own.

"I sure as hell am, what were they thinking? Putting you on a grade 2 mission? I think the age is getting to their head—"

"It was a grade four." You reasoned as calmly as you could muster.

His expression gave you a past image of you as children. The way he'd look at you when you were annoyed and just didn't care.

"Grade 2," He stated.

You grumbled, "What are you talking about?"

"Those idiots thought it was a grade 4 and put you on the mission, they could've gotten you killed." He seemed genuinely irritated, as if saving you was so annoying.

"I was handling it just fine," you reasoned. Grade 2 or not, you were going to get it.

He scoffed at that and fell into a more relaxed position. His demeanor turned half playful, but you knew him well enough that he was hiding his anger. "Like hell you were, look at you. What was your big plan there, run him around just out of touch and wait until he trips on his own slime and finish him off there?"

When you didn't answer, he laughed, his hand pressing against his forehead, pondering the idiocy. "You're not serious are you?" He snickered dryly, shaking his head. His blue spheres were blown out as he thought of what he was going to do to those guys back at Jujustu.

You turned to the side, a mix of shame and anger hitting you admitting that it was close to your plan. "I didn't need your help okay, grade 2 or not, I'm a grade 3, I can handle-"

"No, you can't." This time Satoru was serious, and he was scowling. "You should barely even be a grade three, the only reason you are is because I felt pity and spoke up about it. I know you can't handle it, and I should've never expected you to."

The way your lips spread in a gasp had your comeback quieting. "What..?" You just barely whispered, and when you continued, your words croaked out like it was the hardest thing to say. "But I am a grade three, I worked for that, I practiced.. every day."

You inhaled a deep shaky breath at the thought, but at remembering that this was just Satoru, who never believed your accomplishments anyway. You seethed, "I am, you just don't think I am, you always think I'm weak." Your voice was starting to rise, and you were losing yourself in a fit of anger and nearly stomping like a kid in a tantrum and jabbing your finger at his chest.

"That's because you are lil sis, do you think without my help all these years you'd really be alive right now?"

That sentence made you growl, and he thinking that the conversation was done, started casually walking away like nothing. He was not going to get away, not this easily, not without any repercussions just like every single time.

"What is your fucking problem?!" Your shout made him briefly pause.

"My problem?" He asked like you were crazy. Satoru makes his way back to you, watching how you wince at the throb in your bones, yet still somehow find a way to gesture at him.

"My problem? My problem is that I can't walk away for 10 fucking minutes and leave you alone to get some peace, instead, I'm stuck babysitting for the rest of my life."

"And you think I want you to babysit me? You think I don't want some freedom? You know what... if I die... I die, that's it, end of the story, and better yet, if I die and you had the power to stop it, don't ever feel bad," you laugh sharply, not even thinking before your words at all.

"Because when I'm about to die, I don't want to see you, and even when I'm dead, I don't want you 10 feet near my fucking grave."

It became quiet for a still moment, and the air felt tense. There was a lump in your throat, but you were so filled with resentment you couldn't stop.

"Mom and Dad aren't here right now, it's just you and me, and you think that because of that, I'm grateful to have you here? That because you're a special grade and I'm the weak little sister that you feel like I'm a civilian under your wing? Just.. fuck you, I'm tired of you. I'm tired of you in my goddamn face acting like we'll ever be friends, not with how you treated me as a kid. Not how you treat me now." By the end of your rant, you were practically panting in a fit of rage, your face beet red, and your index still pressing into his chest.

Satoru was quiet, unreadable, and again, just like when you were kids, he had that face that looked as if he didn't care, or as if he knew he was right. You inhaled sharply in an attempt to relax.

"You.." you started again, and already knowing where this was going to end up, tears were forming, and the tightening of your throat made it impossible to speak without a sob leaving.

"You're supposed to love me.." You barely managed to utter, a few cracks in your sentence. His form visibly slumped, and his jaw clenched. You turned your back to him and crossed your arms, a heavy pout turning your lips. You made a move to walk away, and Satoru's hand tugged at your shirt.

He pulled you over his shoulder effortlessly and held you there tightly. It wasn't like you to not flail around and smack him flat in the shoulder, but you stilled. Your rib hurt anyway, and the last thing you wanted to do was break it. That wasn't really the reason why. You gave up, but you couldn't let anyone know that.

He started walking, and because he wasn't able to see, a few tears fell, and you wiped them away before it became a storm.

The walk was silent, and Satoru hardly ever is. But you knew he must've been mad, and admittedly that felt worse. This is just how it was. It's like nothing ever changed in this moment.

In an effort to get yourself comfortable, as much as could be, your body seared with discomfort, and you limped with a sigh. You're tired. You think a nap after all this would do you good.

Your lids gently closed, the swarming headache stinging a little less.

Satoru could feel you sleep, and his hand pressed tighter against your legs in fear you might fall. He knew he wouldn't drop you, he wouldn't drop anyone, not with his strength alone, but he worried and told himself, just in case.

When you woke up the next day, your injuries were all wrapped up. Bandages stretched from your back to your front, and when you tried to get up, it hurt your sides like hell. Laying back down, you sighed, studying your ceiling fan that very lightly circled.

Upon notice, you saw that at your side above the nightstand, there was a stack of books. Not many that you haven't read, and plenty your type. Gently reaching out so as not to strain, you very slowly pulled one into your lap. It was a red hardcover with light pages that had a maximum of a few hundred.

After reading the first few in your boredom, your teeth were already dragging your bottom lip in anticipation. And when you placed it down for a break, you surveyed your room. The blinds were shut tight as if someone was afraid that light might force you from your slumber.

Again, you forced yourself to get up, ignoring how your sides ached. Your legs were shaking once your feet hit the floor, and they were so sore it felt like stone. An incoherent grumble left you once you got off the bed. Pressing your hand into your ribs, you found yourself shouting when you attempted to make a step.

In an instant, your door slammed open, and Satoru stood for a few seconds, watching how you leaned your hand against the nightstand to balance yourself.

"Are you stupid or something?!" He shouted, and before you could even answer he had you sitting down forcefully and his hand held you there when you tried to push your weight to stand again.

Groaning, you smacked his hand away, "Leave me alone Satoru, I can do just fine." Usually with that, he would drop it, but it remained, and you shot him a dirty look.

"You're not moving until they say you can move, so lay back down." Your scowl persisted, and you were mentally jabbing holes into him.

Satoru gave you a look he had never given you before. He glared so darkly that you wavered. His hand pressed your shoulder down and he gently lowered your upper half so you wouldn't feel pain.

"And what am I supposed to do? Sit here for 3 months staring at the ceiling?" Huffing, you complied and laid down in a decent position.

"That's why I got you books." Satoru tapped at them. "All the gooey, mushy, trashy romantic books you can want," he went back to joking, but you didn't respond. You surveyed him while he fluffed your pillow, and folded sheets over your body.

His eyes crinkled just a little bit more, the blue of his eyes was unsettled, and his lips pouted just slightly. "Did you sleep?" You asked. He raised a brow as if it was a dumb question.

"Obviously, why?"

You hummed. "Nothing." Then added, "So when can I get up?" You made sure to add some spite to that sentence.

"Until I say so." He responded, and just because of that little authority he always managed to pull out, you scoffed, unable to hide the irritation. You left it at that, and it was quiet for a few minutes as he still kept organizing your sheets.

Neither of you met each other's glance, and it was a swift match on who could advert the fastest when found. Eventually, the tense silence was broken, and he spoke.

"I know you hate me, you're annoyed, but I don't care." You peeked up at him, then glared at your wall.

You grumbled under your breath, "You never did."

Satoru didn't respond this time, and when he was finally done fixing your sheets, he made his way to your door, then as he was about to close it after him, he declared, "I always did," then left.

Rolling your eyes, you spun to your good side and faced the wall, all your thoughts about your past rushing to you.

Your mother politely dragged a knife through her steak and with each portion, she lifted it to her lips so calmly and ate, dabbing her handkerchief to her lips after. Why couldn't you do that? She looked so graceful, and you just wanted to copy her, but when you tried the knife kept bouncing off the meat and dragging loudly against the plate.

Grumbling, you tried again, and your steak nearly flew out. The anger overtook your small little hands that pounded at the table in respite. Again you tried, and when it didn't work you frowned.

Satoru let out a small sigh and removed himself from his seat. His hand grabbed at the knife and he pulled your plate to his angle and began slicing perfectly little thin pieces. The meat was tender, red, and juicy beneath its skin, and when he even offered you a portion, you opened your lips and chewed it with a pout. You were mad, so mad, but the steak was delicious, and you couldn't erase the shame of not being able to just do this one thing for yourself.

"Do you like it?" He asked, and you mumbled a yes as he fed you another slice. If you didn't, he'd have someone instantly prepare it again after all. Eventually, he sat, and you glared at your plate, glancing between him and your parents who so nonchalantly ate. His face was stoic, and you were sure he was annoyed.

After a while of contemplating if you should eat the rest, you did, all with disdain.

You practically finished a book within 3 days. You laid it at your side and studied the ceiling. There wasn't anything interesting about it, nothing new, no curves, grooves, or chips. Your eyes were drooping, falling ever so slightly at every circle the fan revolved in.

On your bookshelf, there was a small activity book, one of those that you write in and play little games like word searches and whatnot. You kept it there for a while, probably had it since you were 12, but you needed to do something besides just laying here and only occupying your mind.

Satoru isn't here, and he won't be for a while doubtfully. It's been 3 days, that's still better than day 1, so surely you can just get up and pluck it from its bond. Or, you could just wait until he was back, and ask for it. But then he might be offended that you didn't care to read the books he brought for you, and besides, you didn't want to harm your pride by even showing you needed the slightest bit of help.

Were you that petty? Yeah.

Lifting your upper half, a throb rang in your side, and despite this, you planted your feet firmly on the ground. You bit back the grunts and mumbles and made your way to the shelf. Once you were there, you heaved a few breaths, already feeling winded. Your heart was stammering, but you just had to grab it.

It was on the tallest shelf, of course, it was, and you stood on your toes. Your calves were hard and tightened to stone, leaving you anchored to the floor. Cussing, you pulled all your weight and attempted to touch just the top before your finger slid off and fell.

Your teeth were gritting, and you again tried, fingers shaking at the attempt. A hand touches your arm, gently guiding yours down before it reaches out and grabs the book for you, just effortlessly. Your feet drop, and the wince that follows is inevitable.

"You're really doing this again?" Satoru asked, his voice holding a familiar irritation.

You swat his hand away and turn to walk back on your own. "I don’t need you to play nurse. I’m fine, okay?"

Satoru raises an eyebrow, crossing his arms as he watches you. “You’re not fine. You’re barely standing.”

"It was just to get a book Satoru, relax. Did you think I was going to go outside and start jogging?" Your sarcasm always rose with the frustration, rooting you in place. He wasn't going to allow you to stand with your injuries for the sake of mindless arguing, so first he shut you up and swept you off your feet like some bride.

Huffing, you flicked at his chest with your index and thumb, rolling your eyes. "Can you stop treating me like I'm a porcelain doll? The bed is right there, I did fine getting up by myself." Satoru laid you down gingerly, even did so much as flipping your pillow so you could feel cool. Still refusing to answer, he checks your bandages and when he confirms they're still fine, he pushes your legs down and forces your body to relax whether you want to or not.

“I’m not treating you like anything. But you're not getting up, and I’m not watching you hurt yourself over some stupid pride,” he retorted.

There's a minute of silence, and you're adverting your gaze out of pure pettiness. Satoru sat beside you, the weight easing the mattress down.

“You can be mad all you want, but that doesn’t change the fact that you’re stuck here for a while,” he said, a small lingering softness in his tone. He places the book you wanted by your side, and you open your mouth just partially.

You glance at him from the corner of her eye and a wave of irritation hits you. You aim to voice something sharp but don't. Instead, you lay back against the pillow and cross your arms.

"I don't want your help.." you mumbled. The thought of stupid scenes like him cutting your steak, or intervening on your date rushes back. You want to hate him so much, you really do.

He never stops hovering and making everything about him, pushing his help on you when you never needed it. You hate the idea of him thinking you can’t handle things on your own. You're not helpless.

But no matter how hard you try, no matter how much you want to shake him off, he’s always there. Always trying to protect you, and always being there before you could even let yourself fall.

"I'm still here though, whether you want it or not," he declared, and a heavy pout formed.

You mumbled, "Yeah.. whatever.." A moment passes, and you flicker your glance more to the side, holding your arms tight against you. "Can you get me a pencil..?" Satoru laughs, genuinely.

"Gonna draw out all your frustrations?" He asks smugly.

"I'm going to draw me stabbing you." You joke, biting back a laugh that makes you grin wide. You still weren't meeting his gaze, but his grin was returning, and he knew it was a joke.

"Show me when you're done, I'll give you a gold star and put it on my fridge." Satoru chuckles, and the laugh you are holding escapes.

"Shut up." You shake your head, rolling your eyes. "Go away, I want to read now."

Satoru nods, and the weight disappears at your side.

By the fourth week, Satoru was giving you your space. It didn’t mean he wasn’t eyeing you carefully whenever you stood or walked around, but he didn’t fuss over every little thing as he did at first.

You sat by the window, your arms draped over your knees. The frown on your face deepened, the weight of it pressing into your forehead as you gazed longingly at the outside world.

"You could at least try reading some of the books I got you," Satoru teased, a playful edge in his voice, though the tension between you two lingered. "I had to stand there for over an hour, hearing women gush about them."

You stared at a pretty blue jay that landed atop a branch, a tiny bit of envy stirring in you.

"I already read two and a half," you huffed, pressing your palm to your cheek. But really, your thoughts were elsewhere, on the world outside. The need to be out there gnawed at you, like an itch you couldn’t scratch.

Satoru grinned yet he made sure to keep his distance, knowing your patience had a limit. “Well, that’s a good start. Could be three soon enough.”

You didn’t answer. Instead, you studied the window, your thoughts swirling like a storm. His words barely registered. Satoru noticed how your gaze followed the blue jay as it flew away, the disappointment turned your features.

After a moment, he stood from the chair, his gaze softening as he studied you, quiet for a second longer than usual. Then, he gestured toward you. “Come on, let’s go.”

You blinked, raising an eyebrow. “To where exactly? The wall?”

Satoru just chuckled, but his eyes were serious. “Outside. Smart ass, come on.”

You froze, before rushing to your feet with a gasp, excitement mixing with a usual rush of nerves. His hand found your shoulder just as you moved, his touch warm but firm, and he forced you to sit down. “Relax, not like that. If I see you running, I’m dragging you right back inside.”

You huffed, a sudden irk clenching your jaw, "why are you always like this?" You grumbled, shooting him an exasperated look.

"Because if I wasn't, you'd be so stubborn that you'd end up recovering in 12 weeks instead of 8." A pout befell you. That was true, but you didn't need him to say it.

Satoru flicked you, "Don't be a brat, if you're gonna drill holes at the floor, do it outside and sulk there."

"I'm not sulking," you bit your cheek, "and I'm not being a brat."

Satoru laughed, patting your shoulder. "Right, that's hilarious, now go before I change my mind." Despite his playful tone, his grasp was a little reassuring.

"Well, I still don't need you hovering over me," you pointed out.

He took a step back, tightened his grip only momentarily, and spoke firmly, "Well I'm not asking for permission."

Scoffing, you got up and forced yourself to walk to the door. Your hand stretched out, fingertips touching the knob and lingering at the cold that hit you. It took a while before you could really place your hand over it fully and use force to turn it. Upon opening, you felt happy, a realization hit you, and it was like your feet were anchored in nerves.

Satoru waited patiently, and you glanced back at him, unsure. Was he going to close it or lead you around like you were a scared puppy? When you blinked at him, he smiled warmly, and you bit your lip. It almost felt like a test.

You stepped out quietly, pausing for a few seconds. The breeze hit you once you crossed the threshold, and you hadn’t realized how much you missed the plush green grass and the pretty flowers at Jujutsu. Tears brimmed at your eyes, and you wiped them quickly away.

Satoru followed, stopping a few feet away and leaning against the wall as he watched you. You wanted to run, to rush out and scream, to release every frustration you had buried. But instead, you stood there, taking in the moment. It was so peaceful.

You sat at the edge of the porch, your feet hanging off the steps as you watched the grass sway in the wind. The purple flowers pressed together, moving in unison as the breeze swept through. The sun’s gentle rays warmed your skin.

Satoru took a seat beside you, giving you just enough space to not disturb the quiet. You turned to him, smiling, and at that moment, you knew it would be okay. He returned your smile softly as if he understood too.

It was quiet for many minutes, maybe even an hour, as you sat there and stared at the sky. You watched as lazy clouds transitioned slowly, drifting across the blue. Your chest felt warm, and you let your feet dangle freely.

Satoru’s eyes flickered to the sky for a moment, but they didn’t linger. He was tired—too tired. The dull ache behind his eyes told him everything. The weight of the silence pressed against his shoulders, and a noticeable slump in his posture gave away the fatigue that settled in like a heavy blanket.

He could feel your gaze on him, and for once, he didn’t want you to see him like this. He would never admit it, but his breaths grew shallow. He was starting to droop.

You touched his shoulder lightly, and he blinked up at you. "You should sleep. I'll be fine."

His expression softened for just a second, a hint of gratitude breaking through the usual guise. A small sigh escaped him, but he quickly masked it with a forced grin.

"What makes you think I’m falling asleep?" he scoffed, trying to convince both you and himself.

You softly sighed, a frown tugging at your lips. "Just go to sleep. You've earned it."

A wave of guilt washed over you, and you tried to mask it with a quick smile. He caught it, and a warm, unguarded grin spread across his face.

There was a quiet understanding between you both. The calmness of it was new, and you didn’t realize until now just how much it meant.

You turned back to the scene, watching as the sun slowly settled, the warmth leaving your skin in the waning light. You could hear Satoru press back against the wall and release a gentle, tired breath. His eyes closed, and when you turned to look at him again, you saw the peaceful rise and fall of his chest.

You sat close, leaning against the wall beside him and closing your eyes to sleep. For once, you felt an unwavering peace beside him, and you wanted nothing more.

[blackstar-liveblogs]

Alright, potentially last post of the day.

I did not only watch Krow, but I also tried to find Scott across the POVs as much as possible, because man was discussing lore and spilling more important lore pieces for his character off-stream.

What I catched tr!Scott did and say today (any referenced dialogue will be heavily paraphrased) (also read more cuz not a short list of events):

- He jumpscared Owen and asked what happened after he left the day of the ball.

- Owen: We failed and they (the three chosen) vanished.

Scott: ... See, this is why you don't do the maximum effort.

- Owen: So yeah, Aimsey is gone forever.

Scott: Oh- What do we do now then?

Owen: I mean, I don't know, our faction leader is still here-

- Scott mentioned that he returned to the castle to retrieve his things. A Keeper was there but not replying, so he went around and took his designated shulker box, then another Keeper showed up and he basically said ''I only took my stuff, I swear.''

The Keeper also gave him the Teal Titans' base painting.

- Scott showed Owen that during the first game of the ball he grabbed the materials for a Maze. He held onto them, waited if a team ever asked for them, but none ever did, so now he's going to make his own Maze.

- Owen briefed Scott on what the Keepers said of ''now that your most valuable members are gone, let's see how you manage the quests'' and showed him the quests. Then, mentioned that the three vanished are permanentely gone. Scott was taken aback but asked if he was sure.

Owen: I think it's hopeful thinking, to be honest.

Scott: You... don't want Aimsey, Ros and Pangi to come back?

Owen: (Laughs) Moreso Ros.

Scott: Yeah, I get it. Like, if someone you don't like disappears, you would not want them to come back.

Owen: Exactly.

Scott: I can understand some of this stuff.

- Scott parted ways to grind cyan dye and wool for the quests. Also discovered that Bad's farm already had sheeps with cyan wool, and both him and Owen concluded that CPK did that earlier that day.

- Scott showed up again at the castle while Foolish, Tubbo, Ros and Bek were talking.

They talked a bit about the Maddening, the corruption and how it could be affecting Ros. Foolish mentioned that between Ros' changes in behaviour was ''less violent.''

Scott: (Turns to Ros) Wait, you don't want more violence? (Kinda excited silly chanting). No more violence! No more violence!

Ros: I mean... what kind of violence?

- Foolish proposed that Scott and Ros should be attached to the hip (or something like that).

Scott: ... Why would I need to be attached to the hip with Ros? (Turns to Ros). Not that I mind, you've been lovely with me so far.

Ros: Oh, thank you...

And he gave her golden apples.

- The conversation turned very loud, which made Scott overstimulated and he irish goodbye'd out of there. He went to find Pangi at his house.

- He asked if he was okay. Pangi told him about the Null and how Aimsey and Ros got affected by the corruption, but he is fine. Scott pointed out the purple on his arm, but Pangi brushed it off as ''his mind it's fine and doesn't know why.''

Scott said that what he thinks is that all three of them went through a traumatic event and might need time to recover, just like he needed time to adjust after he was a snail.

They talked about the corrupted people with clear evidences, like Pili and Aimsey. Scott actually did not know Aimsey had a purple eye until Pangi pointed it out.

Scott mentioned the people who were fully reset and came back fine, so they don't know how it exactly works. He also thinks that Owen came back more sane, so he doesn't really dislike the conversations they have.

- Ros joined the conversation eventually, and Scott reassured her the same way he did with Pangi, mentioning his own experience. Here is where we get the new important piece of information for his character.

Scott: I asked about the Null to see if it was something similar to where we were when we were snails. (Pangi told him it was like a never-ending tunnel). I think what we felt was like a... warm box.

And

Scott: I don't know anything from before I was a snail, I just know... feelings that I had. But I'm re-learning everything, which is kinda hard when everyone on this land resorts to violence so quickly.

(OP side note: tr!Scott showing to be fond of his ''giant snail buddies'' always coming back to meeeeeeee).

- Scott mentioned his observations that some people were shocked that they were back or the fact that they could come back at all.

- More people joined in at Spawn. Krow eventually did too, and again, my crumbs when Snoozer put Foolish on Krow's head.

Scott: Wait, Krow, you have him hostage, go go!

Krow: Oh yeah! (Runs to the water).

Scott: Drown him, drown him!

- He offered Ros the Teal Titans' HQ as a place she could go if she wanted to rest and be alone, and that she did build it after all, he just did the interior.

Ros did not remember this, so he pointed out where it was and saw her leave.

- He gave golden apples to Snoozer.

Shortly after, Scott logged off for the day. I don't think he had any chance to talk with Aimsey since they were very busy with their contract mission alongside Sneeg. But I'm not entirely sure, I did not witness everything that happened today nor every stream, people are free to correct me.

But he was doing what he usually does. Gathering as much information as he can of the situation to understand it and form his point of view. Also loving to have more crumbs of his lore.

Is it like really bad to hope he and Krow get to do lore together once he knows about who he used to be? (I am not that hopeful Freddie and Jonnaay will log on soon gkbgk).

That I want to believe he was not told about yet, because it's quite an important revelation for his character and man was off-stream fjvfkgkh.

Let's see how it plays out.

[candied-cae]

Izzy the character is beloved and by the writers and within the show. If they wanted him to suck and be unloved they would've directed Con differently or cast a different actor. Con didn't even audition for Izzy, Jenkins saw his audition for another character and asked him to read for Izzy instead. Your hate of Izzy is biasing you to authorial intent and ruining the show for you, not the other way around.

You are free to your opinion, so are the folks who worked on the show, as am I.

This is obviously in response to this post I just made earlier, but, as I literally said in that post: I know.

I am aware that the people who worked on this show liked the character and wanted to do a redemption for him. And just as you accuse me of being blinded by my Izzy-Hate, they (and you) can be blinded by Izzy-Love, there is no subjective metric to see which side is more "correct." I simply expressed an opinion that his redemption was rushed.

I never bash Con's portrayal of the character. I never say he did his job incorrectly. I never even say that Izzy shouldn't get a redemption arc. I also never go and tell people they are wrong when they post happy things about Izzy, even though I don't like him.

People are allowed to like his character, I even acknowledge that in the tags under "I know I'm not an Izzy-Enjoyer so it's not catered to me. I know some people are excited this is how it's working out. Good for them." I'm happy you seem to be enjoying how the show is handling his character, congratulations, I wish that was how I felt about it, it'd be nice.

As I also state that those are just my barebones opinions being posted and I am currently writing up more while I rewatch to explain myself further, in which I do look into Izzy as a character deeper than "he was an asshole in S1" for your information.

But my biggest point is that it felt rushed from where we left off in Season 1 and I wish we'd been given the screen time to explore more of that part in-between the seasons where the crew makes the decision to be more open to him. I just wanted more development and evidence of growth, a reason for Jim to have accepted him as an important member of the crew, a reason for Frenchie to have comforted him like he did.

We didn't get that. And maybe it's the fault of the cast and crew having too much fun with each other they've gotten a little divorced from the events of season 1, maybe it's the fault of the studio not giving them enough time to show it even if it was scripted and had to be cut to fit in the episode amount, maybe it's no one's fault.

But, I went through the trouble to even tag that post "Izzy Critical" so folks who do like him have the option to block the phrase if it improves their experience on the internet. Feel free to try that if it'll help you. But I am going to continue expressing my opinions and analysis on shows I like, because it's fun and I love this medium of storytelling.

Have a good day 😊

[christophernotcolumbus]

Rough plan? It feels like the outline for a new Wonka movie already lol. I don't think her mom knew about the things the Chocolate Cartel did, in the movie, her mom was poor and Author didn't want anything to do with her because of that. He also didn't like his brother for being with a lower-class woman, if she knew what they did, I don't think Author would've let her go live her life. I agree that Fickelgruber and Prodnose relatives would also do shady stuff to grow their companies after the inevitable backlash from Felix and Gerald going to jail, but I don't think they'd go to Noodle with that proposition. They, most likely, already know that Noodle and Wonka were the reason Felix and Gerald went to jail in the first place. I think they'd be more friendly, like a "I'm not like my relatives" sort of way. I think Noodle would sympathize, since she doesn't want to be like her father and uncle. Even though Wonka is a bit oblivious sometimes, I think he'd catch on that they aren't being genuine. Wonka doesn't have any close relatives that were shady, so he might be able to see things from a different point of view than Noodle. My idea is that Noodles accepts the deal to join Fickelgruber and Prodnose, under the assumption the inheritors are good people, but she doesn't tell Wonka because she knows he'll be suspicious. Noodle, still being close to Wonka, helps him invent different kinda of candy (Not sure which kind, probably the fizzy-lifting drinks like you said). Fickelgruber and Prodnose find some notes that she has, steals them, and sells it. Now is when Wonka finds out that she's working with them and he gets mad at her, and like you said, closes his factory because of the stolen recipe. Mines not as good as yours lol but I wanted to add my idea

When we get an inevitable Wonka sequel I hope they do the incredibly obvious thing and create parallels between Wonka's five washhouse buddies and the five kids from Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory. It's so perfect that I'm surprised it wasn't done in Wonka itself but then again the washhouse crew besides Noodle didn't show up a lot to begin with. I know the basic outline of what I would do with a sequel/what I am going to do with my fan sequel when I finally get around to writing it and I'm not optimistic enough to hope that they're going to do most of what I want, but Wonka's five friends each paralleling one of the kids that got a golden ticket and Wonka and Noodle having a falling out that results in the Slugworth company she inherited from her dad being a competitor to his like it is in Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory are both things that they realllllly should do. The first one because it would be such a missed opportunity if they didn't and the second because Wonka would have zero continuity with Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory if they didn't.

Anyway I don't have this fully worked out yet but here's the list of who I've matched up with who so far (subject to change) (obviously I'm gonna have to expand on the personalities of these guys for this but that shouldn't be an issue considering that most of them got like 20 lines in the original, they're gonna become a lot more flawed but also a lot more in depth):

Noodle=Violet (gum chewing/ambition)

Lottie=Mike (sloth/media escapism)

Piper=Veruca (materialism/entitlement)

Chucklesworth=Charlie (influenceable/loyal)

Chucklesworth=Agustus (gluttony)

[dimonds456]

Transfem Stan Thoughtdump

Okay so @/abyssalzones made a pretty good post that sums up a lot of my thoughts as well, but I have a few extra ones I'd like to add to this discussion, as well as elaborating on one of the post's points. I've been thinking about transfem Stan for a couple of weeks now and at this point I'm like "fuck it we ball" and throwing it out there. 

For one, it warms my heart whenever there's an older character who was raised in the mid-1900s/older times who realizes they're queer, or comes to terms with their identity in old age. You're never too old to realize you're part of the community, and never too late. Adding this on top of the many, MANY identities that Stan has had to take to survive in her life, it'd be like really turning over a new leaf for her. She'd get to really step into an identity that she aligns with completely, and not something else given to her or that she took to protect herself. 

Not to mention, everything regarding Ford. The fact that she had to pretend to be Ford for so long, she more than likely never had the chance to even think about taking on any other identities. She had to keep this one as intact as she could. Otherwise, she could risk loosing the Shack, and with it, the portal- her brother. No way that was happening. 

It was briefly touched in the post, but when Stan was watching that one movie and she was like "JUST LIKE ME FR", obviously the writers intended that to just be a joke since this was as far and away from Stan's identity as they could get. But we're gonna ignore that and take it at face value for a second. 

The channel introduces itself (jokingly) as the boring old lady black-and-white channel, clearly something that a manly-man like Stan wouldn't be into, and he reacts like how you'd expect. But once it gets going, he gets fully sucked into it, leading eventually to the scene where the main character, seemingly about to complete a Character Arc™, tells her mother "I'm not just a dutchess, I'm also a woman!" and Stan cheers for her, saying the "just like me fr" line. 

Without any transfem headcanons, again, this is a joke. Or you could interpret this in hindsight as Stan feeling a similar way about his father, since lines like "I'm a woman!" declared like that usually means "I'm free to make my own choices," which is a message resident make-my-father-proud-issues Stanley Pines would relate to pretty hard. Even though this isn't a conclusion Stan comes to in the show, we could easily see him coming to a conclusion like that in the future.

Now let's add the transfem headcanon back in. With that new layer to it, Stan (whose egg hasn't cracked yet) would be confused as to why she relates so hard. After all, she's a man who was raised to shove feelings down and be a manly-man man by Filbrick. She's more than likely gone her entire life trying to conform to that idea of toxic masculinity that her dad pushed on both her and Ford. Stan was always the one who resorted to punching, after all. That's a manly-man trait, so surely this goes no further right

There's a part of Gravity Falls that I feel doesn't get discussed enough, and that's the underlying misogyny of it. There's not a ton of it, but there are quite a few jokes about how men are stronger than women and the like. Stan has quite a few lines like that herself. So she would be subscribing to a similar mental state, the idea that if you like punching, CLEARLY you're a guy. Cuz that's how it works. Obviously. 

Introducing Mabel Pines, someone who is VERY much a girly-girl. She likes pink and unicorns and rainbows and makeup and sleepovers, stuff of the like. Now I could make a whole other post about my headcanons for Mabel and her queer journey, but one thing she can definitely do that "girly-girls" DON'T? Punching.

Mabel can punch. And she punches a lot. 

It's a small thing, and something I think Stan has just kinda accepted without question over the course of the series, but if she were to stop and think about it, she'd be like ".....wait a minute." and it could very well be the first piece that cracks the idea of manly-man masculinity vs just. existing as a person and what that actually means. 

Once Stan finally starts to break away from toxic masculinity and all those lessons she got thrown into her head, then her egg would finally be able to start cracking. 

As for why it even matters, first off, it just makes for an interesting interpretation of the character I haven't really seen before until VERY recently. Like, within the past 2 days recently (and maybe once like a month ago?? idk). 

But secondly, for her character, it would be a good, healthy step into really taking back her identity. Who IS Stan Pines? She's spent so long being other people, either as a form of self-defense or pretending to be her brother so she can help save him from the sideburn hell dimension, that I don't think she's really allowed herself to connect to who Stan is. 

This is true regardless of gender headcanon, but I think the transfem angle makes it so much more interesting. Who is Stan? Not even she knows. And she's starting to feel VERY confused about the whole thing. 

As for Ford, I think he'd be more than willing to support an identity journey for Stan. After all, he's traveled across dimensions and more than likely had all his teachings questioned as well. I am willing to bet money he's encountered trans people before. And, knowing Ford, he'd be open and curious to the idea, not close-minded, no matter what their father tried to teach his kids. Honestly, I could see Ford pestering Stan with questions long into the night regarding the whole thing, and taking up the whole identity mystery for himself as something the two of them can "crack" (heh) together. Just another adventure for the crew of the Stan'o'War II! 

There's SO much more but I don't wanna re-say things that the og post already said, these are just the big ones that stick out to me and what I wanted to elaborate on. 

TL;DR Stan goes on a journey of realizing that toxic masculinity Is Bad Actually and honestly so was his father, and once he accepts that and starts actively challenging his own beliefs about gender, her egg cracks and she realizes that maybe she isn't a guy at all. The rest of the Pines- but Ford especially- are supportive, and although Stan has a LOT of self-reflection to do and I could see her getting frustrated, flustered, or even embarrassed of her newfound realization, ultimately it makes her happier like this. Cuz it's her identity. She's not pretending to be anyone else anymore and she can just wholly be herself.

Thank you and goodnight

[spookythesillyfella]

·-★ BLORBO ATTACK !!!!!! ★-·

★ close upz under cut :

[girlivealwaysbean]

i think growing up is just life repeatedly sucker punching you and saying bitch you thought things were gonna better lmao no you're so naive and stupid for having hope in 20 years the world will be flaming bag of garbage and no matter how hard you work you'll get eliminated at some point

[south-sea]

i think a lot of people don’t always realize the difference between “this is how i interpret canon” and “this is how i want to write it because that’s what’s fun to me”. a lot of times the latter is all headcanons or AUs are, not an indication of what the writer thinks “is” or “should be” canon

more power to those who are super tuned into actual canon and know these details like the back of their hand, but sometimes people just wanna use a series as a sandbox, not a ruleset. genuinely nothing but respect for people who ARE that knowledgeable, but i and a lot of other people are just here to have fun with characters we enjoy—and want to put them in more accessible settings

[raiiny-bay]

my favorite edits - 2023 edition 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9

[immortalsins]

oughhhhhhhhhhh