#mr. numbers

[iloveyoudie]

[spesiria]

Miscellaneous drawings:

My anti-theist Twilight Domain Cleric, Damir.

From Damir's campaign, the party's necromancer wizard, Gus.

A witcher OC, from back when that was a thing a million years ago. The dog is his "child of surprise".

Mr. Numbers and Mr. Wrench from Fargo season 1. I actually won my first ever NaNoWriMo in 2020 writing a fanfic about these two, lmao. It's not published anywhere, because it's not finished and it'll never be finished, but it was still a really fun experience.

Palette challenge. This was pretty entertaining actually: basically, you pick a colour palette (I did go with a palette with harmonious colours, but you can go wild and just go with completely random colours), then set your drawing app/screen to grey scale so you don't actually see the colours you pick. You'll colour based on values instead of hues and end up with a pretty fun, colourful picture with colour combinations that you wouldn't normally choose.

[syoemei]

getting into fargo a decade late is terrible like sorry i wasn’t there to scream about the insane hitman yaoi i was literally 12 at the time

[cannibal-nightmares]

drew my boyfriend and i as my two favourite hitmen to a powerdisco song because my god i can

[thegreatsylvando]

And the LORD spake unto Moses, "Say unto Aaron, 'Take thy rod, and stretch out thine hand upon the waters of Egypt, upon their streams, upon their rivers, and upon their ponds, and upon all their pools of water, that they may become blood; and that there may be blood throughout all the land of Egypt, both in vessels of wood, and in vessels of stone'." And Moses and Aaron did so, as the LORD commanded; and he lifted up the rod, and smote the waters that were in the river, in the sight of Pharaoh, and in the sight of his servants; and all the waters that were in the river were turned to blood. —Exodus 7:19-20

[snufkinofficial]

mr milchick

[chloesimaginationthings]

My FNAF theory is Monty was a mediocre melody

[shittalkerxox]

I like to think that even though people don’t know that Matt is Daredevil, there’s still a general consensus among anyone who knows him, (and a fair few people who just recognise him from when he put Fisk in prison those two times and from Frank’s trial,) that he HATES Fisk. New York found out Fisk was Mayor and the first thought was; “Damn, if Daredevil was still around, he’d probably go insane.” And then it’s “Shit, someone should go remind that lawyer that murder is illegal.”

[cptnchristopherpike]

Brand new cast portraits for Season 3 of Star Trek: Strange New Worlds!

[kaffkanya]

[jinmepark]

More old sketches

[papanowo]

get a grip loverboy !!!

[caffeinatelove]

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ happy birthday isagi!

𝐛𝐲𝐫: these are just headcanons! female reader, intended lowercase, includes swearing, possible out of character / mischaracterisation, established relationship, extreme crack, fluff, suggestive and sexual themes — { lingerie, thigh riding }

in a frighteningly rare moment of mercy, one that would probably go down in history and end up in some guinness world record book of things that seemed impossible, ego allowed isagi to take the day off.

one day off. away from blue lock. for exactly twenty four hours and only twenty four hours, were his words.

actually, it wasn’t even his words.

"come on." anri had insisted. "he’s been working so hard. just give the kid twenty four hours. he deserves it."

ego merely sighed. "what’s wrong with him celebrating his birthday here? we have cake. i think. you can get cake, can’t you?"

anri just gave him a pointed look before turning to the striker in front of them.

"you have twenty four hours, isagi-kun." she nodded her head curtly. "it’s our gift to you."

"don’t make us regret this." ego added, voice cold like a robot. "go. celebrate your birthday or whatever."

isagi didn’t dare to ask any questions. just nodded once, grabbed his duffel bag and sprinted out of the facility like it was some kind of prison. to be fair, though, there was a striking resemblance. the place didn’t even have windows.

now, he was standing in front of your doorstep while still in uniform. blue lock hoodie, pants, slightly dirty cleats and a bashful smile on his face.

knock.

knock.

knock.

his clenched hand was trembling slightly; excited to see his girlfriend after so long.

you barely manage to get the door open before launching into him with a surprised squeal, arms wrapping around his neck.

"yoichi? yoichi! you’re here! it’s your birthday! happy birthday, sweetheart!"

he grunts, stumbling back a little by the sheer power of your hug. you kiss his cheek. then the other one. then once more for good measure. he lets out a sheepish little chuckle — clearly basking in the attention.

you suddenly pull away, hands resting on his firm shoulders. "wait, you’re here?" you squint in confusion.

"yeah." he mumbles, wasting no time to pull you in again by the waist, burying his face in your neck. he lets out a dreamy sigh after inhaling your ever familiar scent, planting his own kiss against your pulse. "they let me out for my birthday."

"when you word it like that, you really make that place sound like an asylum." your fingers card through his short dark strands.

"trust me, it is."

you snort, nose crinkling. "then we’re gonna celebrate your freedom. come on."

reaching for his hand, you pull him into the house with a pretty ambitious goal: a homemade birthday cake.

"but wait, i don’t even know how to make a cake." isagi says, standing in the middle of the kitchen dumbly.

"me neither. just have faith! i’ll pull up some recipe on my phone."

he didn’t find that response very convincing but he went along with it anyways.

isagi then asked why he had to participate in making his own birthday cake. you gasped and told him that blue lock really was turning him into an egoistic brat. he grumbled at that, already walking to the fridge and tugging some ingredients out to prove that he could still be a good humble boyfriend.

you snicker under your breath. gottem.

it takes you around thirty minutes to figure out if you even have all the ingredients for his desired flavour. which was adzuki bean paste, by the way. you had no idea why he couldn’t have just said something more simple like vanilla, but you weren’t going to question the birthday boy. anyways he ended up getting flour everywhere, and you dropped an egg on the floor.

after getting everything cleaned up, you were finally mixing the batter, focusing on the recipe that was displayed on your phone.

see what’s happens when you trust the process?

that’s when you glance over for a second and notice that isagi is already licking the spatula.

before stealing the bowl and doing the same to it. feverishly.

"woah." you mutter, eyes widening. "calm down, sweetheart."

he looks up at you with the most deadpan expression. cake batter smeared on the corner of his mouth.

"do you know what i have to eat in blue lock? it’s so bland. i haven’t had anything this sugary in months. let me have this. please. it’s my birthday."

you blink at his theatrics. he just goes back to licking.

"jeez. okay. continue. but if you get salmonella later, it is not my fault and i’m not holding your hand in the emergency room."

he doesn’t answer. he just looks at you one more time before continuing to indulge in the mix.

"you’ll be holding my hand." he mumbles knowingly into the bowl. you roll your eyes.

while the cake bakes, and probably burns, you decide to drag isagi out of the house into the afternoon sun. it’s the first real breath of fresh air he’s had in weeks.

"come on." you tug your intertwined hands excitedly. "there’s this new boba place that opened a few weeks ago. it’s got honeydew, taro, matcha–"

"that’s a lot of sugar." he quirks an eyebrow.

"weren’t you just eating raw batter?"

"…it’s my birthday."

you arrive at the quaint little boba shop. it smells like sweet syrup, fresh dough and warm milk. he stands behind you in the line, arms loosely wrapped around your waist as his chin rests on your shoulder.

you stare up at the menu thoughtfully, telling isagi what you’re thinking of getting.

"i knew it." he chuckles. "it’s been months and you’re still getting that flavour. are you sure you aren’t addicted?"

"so what?" you retort defensively. "addiction just shows consistency. which is a good skill to have."

his dark eyebrows raise. "that is… an interesting point of view."

"thank you." you hum, stepping closer to the register once the person in front of you takes their receipt and stands at the waiting bay.

the two of you decide to sit at a bench in your local park with the drinks. he’s stealing sipping from your cup, eyes half-lidded like it’s the first time he’s truly relaxed in weeks.

you watch him quietly. "how’s the sugar crash hitting?"

he lifts the cup, handing it back to you. "not yet. but i think i’m getting drunk off this."

"it’s tea, yoichi."

he chuckles breathlessly. "no, i mean this," his eyes flicker from his own drink, to you. "you. being here. all of this."

your face unwillingly flushes at that.

you set your drink down beside you, reaching to hold onto his bicep before leaning forward to plant a kiss on his nose.

"dork." you whisper, smiling. "that was sappy."

he catches your hand before it falls away, threads his fingers through yours, and leans in to properly press a slow kiss to your lips. he tastes faintly of tapioca.

"i think i’m allowed to be." he murmurs. "it’s my birthday. remember?"

cue your face flushing even harder.

the two of you decide to wander around the area some more. it was mostly his idea, since the luxury of not being in a confined space was being presented ever so deliciously.

you eventually stumble across a market area that has lanterns hanging above every stall. it’s crowded and loud, with shop owners calling out their deals, so isagi squeezes your hand a little bit tighter.

just to make sure you don’t get separated.

when all of a sudden, he stops dead in his tracks right in the middle of the crowd. you follow his gaze to find some sort of vintage soccer merchandise booth. that’s when you realise his eyes are practically sparkling.

"no way. is that a 2014 noel noa france away jersey?" his lips part in awe.

not that you had any idea if it was, but you were already reaching for your wallet. his reaction told you more than enough.

"wait, wait," he stops you. "you don’t have to buy me anything–"

"it’s your birthday, sweetheart, i have to get you something. besides, you already paid for the boba."

his ears turn a faint shade of red. he tries to gently swat your hand away. to manoeuvre your wallet back inside your purse.

"no. it’s fine. seriously. i was gonna ask my mum for new cleats or something later, so you don’t have–"

you gasp at the newly revealed information, immediately grabbing his face in both your hands. the action shuts him up instantly.

"you wanted new cleats? and you were going to ask your mum?"

his eyes are wide, caught between flustered and amused. "i mean… she always got them for me before…"

you squish his face together with your palms. isagi lets you. honestly, he lives for it.

"no. i will buy it for you. you want new cleats? you get new cleats. from me. because i am your girlfriend. your number one fan. and you are my baby. now say it." you can feel his skin grow warmer under your touch.

"i am your baby." he mumbles through squished lips.

"again." you demand.

"i’m your baby."

you kiss his puckered mouth, before finally letting him go. "good boy."

his entire face is red, and it’s not just from the friction of your hands against his flesh. you almost think he might combust with how hard he’s blushing. in fact he walks away for a moment to clear his dizzy head while you hand the vendor your card.

the two of you walk down the lantern lit path together, plastic shopping bags swinging at your sides. he’s bumping his shoulder into yours ever so often. just to feel you closer.

"hey." he says after a while.

"yeah?"

"thanks."

you look over to see him already staring at you. eyes warm with affection. hair tousled from the breeze. his cheeks somehow still flushed from earlier. for once he looks like a boy in love, not just a rising star with the weight of japanese soccer on his shoulders.

"you deserve a good birthday." you shrug.

"i already have it." he returns.

the two of you finally arrive back home just after golden hour ends. to the cake. it’s a little uneven and there’s a small crack down one side, but damn it, it’s heartfelt.

you jab a singular candle in it, fiercly striking up a match that isagi instantly tries to do for you. but you weren’t going to let anything stop you from making it a special moment for him. so you held it out of his reach.

which was incredibly dangerous, but it’s fine. the couch almost caught on fire, but it didn’t.

that was the main thing.

after he backed down, you successfully lit the candle. before bursting into song. he pretended to be mortified. but honestly, he was so grateful for it all.

"happy birthday to youuuuuu."

he’s biting back a smile, unable to conceal how much he really is enjoying everything. "your singing is very off-key."

"yeah, well, i never said i was auditioning for glee, so shut up." you snap, before tacking on, "now close your eyes and make a wish."

you push the visually challenged cake forward, watching as his eyes flutter shut. his lips curve upwards completely now. in a small sweet smile. the singular candle brightens a warm glow around his face.

he doesn’t say anything. he just leans forward and blows it out in one soft breath.

after that, you both sit curled up together on the couch. a slice of the cake split between you on a small plate. less dishes that way.

you feed isagi a bite off the fork, grinning as a bit of icing sticks to the corner of his mouth. "you’ve got something here." you reach to swipe it off.

he catches your wrist and kisses your fingertips instead.

your realise your face is flushing again as you shuffle against him. "so, can i know what you wished for?"

he looks offended that you even asked. “hey, it won’t come true if i say it out loud."

"oh, you really believe in that stuff?" you chuckle, before prodding. "come on. tell me. what did you wish for?"

he doesn’t even blink, setting against the couch. "you."

you freeze with the fork halfway to your mouth. great. there had to be some sort of world record for how many times someone’s face could go red in one day, and you were about to break it. you try to laugh his response off, but it’s real.

you can see it in his eyes.

a moment passes where you mentally recollect yourself, before inhaling. "actually, it’s funny you should say that."

you suddenly disregard the piece of cake on the coffee table, standing up with a new kind of vigour. almost jittery.

isagi tilts his head. "huh? where are you going? this is the exact opposite of what i wished for. i told you i shouldn’t have–"

"just stay here." you instruct, looking oddly suspicious.

he watches you curiously as you leave the room before leaning forward to shove. another forkful of cake into his mouth.

a few moments pass, before you walk back in and stop right in front of him.

now, wearing something so lacy and so tiny that it could barely even qualify as clothing. delicate mesh clings to your body, leaving just enough to the imagination. but not nearly enough to spare isagi’s sanity.

there’s a satin bow tied at your sternum like a present. his present.

and then he sees the ruffled garter snugly looped around just one thigh. now that little thing was actually sending him into oblivion

isagi immediately chokes on his own breath. his entire face flares up with heat, red rushing up his neck to the tips of his ears.

you’re in lingerie.

and that perfect little garter was driving him up the wall. he adjusts his sweatpants as subtly as possible.

"what–" isagi finally opens his mouth when he realises he can’t just continue to stare at you for the rest of the day, and unfortunately, the rest of his life. he sputters stupidly. "what are you–?"

he’s redder than the adzuki bean paste.

"gosh. don’t look so surprised." you almost whine, feeling embarrassment course through your body under his gaze. "it’s been months since we last saw each other. i thought this would be cute."

"no! it is! i’m just…" his mouth goes dry completely. "are you sure? i don’t want you to feel like we have to–i mean, i want to–obviously–but–"

"yes!" you squeak, suddenly feeling very self conscious. "why else do you think i would buy this?"

"when did you even buy that…?" he trails off, eyes shamelessly dragging down the length of your figure.

isagi suddenly shakes his head. like he needs to be mentally recalibrated.

"come here. please." he says instead, hoarsely, like a whole new train of thought just hit him all at once.

your entire body is warm as you shuffle closer. his hands automatically reach for your hips, gently guiding you down onto his lap.

you settle against him, fingers clutching at his shoulders to steady yourself. your faces are close. way too close.

he exhales shakily now that you’re in his arms, and the intimacy only makes your body burn more.

"i’m sorry. i was just shocked because you look so beautiful." he mumbles, pressing a kiss to your neck. "this is honestly the best gift i’ve ever gotten."

you can’t stop blushing, and you suddenly wonder if this is pay back for earlier at the market place. your fingers flex against his hoodie, grounding yourself with the fabric.

"thanks, yoichi." you whisper. then you lean back just enough to meet his eyes.

"wanna unwrap me?"

for a second he doesn’t answer. he just stares at you. with his blue eyes wide, and his hands still resting on your ruffle-clad hips.

you almost wonder if that teasing little line was too much, but then he says something back. very quietly.

so quiet you almost think you misheard him.

"can i…" his voice is low. "can i just watch you ride my thigh first?"

you blink, faltering at the oddly specific request.

staring at him blankly for a good moment.

mainly because nothing could’ve prepared you to hear that.

"your thigh?" you slowly repeat.

now his entire face was burning red.

“i-i’ve been thinking about it for a while. to be honest. i just miss the way you move. you don’t even have to do it for long! just a bit."

your stomach literally flips. there’s something vaguely mortifying about getting off in front of another person. but there’s no way you can deny isagi when he’s looking at you like that. all needy and devoted. and on his birthday, too. that would be cruel.

"okay. just don’t make fun of me."

"i’d never." he whispers.

you shift, knees bending slightly as you straddle just one of his thighs. his sweats are soft under you, but you can feel his muscle flex instinctively as you settle down. his breath stutters hard against your collarbone.

your hands are still on his shoulders for balance. his grip finds your hips again. and you start to move. it’s just a little bit at first.

but the friction immediately makes your breath hitch.

the lacy fabric of your panties heightens the sensation, as you grind yourself on the thick muscle. it already feels humiliatingly good, and your thighs begin to shake. your form probably would’ve been wobbly if wasn’t for isagi firmly pressing you down on him.

"shit." you gasp. "this is… okay, this is embarrassing."

isagi’s eyes are locked on you. and they’re wide. more animalistic than you’ve ever seen them. and you’ve seen them during that u-20 match. he’s practically heaving as you rock back and forth.

"no. no, it isn’t. you look so good like this." he murmurs, pulling you into a kiss almost desperately. he still tastes like the cake.

"yoichi–"

"dont stop. please don’t stop." the plea tumbles pathetically from his lips.

he looks wrecked, and he’s not even really doing anything. just watching. just feeling you on top of him. feeling that warmth between your thighs on top of him.

you manage to find a rhythm, getting a little bit more confident as you fall into it. little noises escape from you, each one sending isagi spiralling further. you can feel the tension in his thigh, how he’s flexing it subtly, almost like he wants to help you grind harder without even moving.

"you like it?” he asks quietly, like he genuinely needs to know. if it’s ruining you as much as watching it is ruining him.

that’s when you notice the two wet patches on his pants. one due to his own arousal leaking. and one from you. your face goes even redder; you were enjoying this more than anticipated. it did kind of help that your boyfriends thigh was made up of solid muscle. although you weren’t sure how he was going to bring this soiled pair back to blue lock. it probably needed to be bleached.

he follows your gaze, noticing it too, and that seems to answer his question. he groans. like he’s never been so turned on his life.

"fuck." he breathes, not even pretending to be composed. "i think about this all the time."

you falter again, fingers tightening once again in his hoodie. "…you do?"

he’s red. he’s so red. but he nods with the confession. "i think about you getting off on my thigh. a lot. i imagine it when i can’t sleep in the dorms and sometimes when i shower. i imagine your face–this face–fuck. i-i didn’t think i’d get to see it for real–"

your entire body buzzes with heat.

"and now that i am seeing it, i never want to forget it."

you let out a quiet moan that morphs into a breathless laugh, the realisation that this whole thing is just an unusual fetish he’s been harbouring dawns on you.

"why didn’t you tell me this earlier?"

"i-i didn’t want you to think that i was some kind of pervert. sorry. i’m sorry." his voice quivers.

"don’t be." you mumble. you’re still grinding slowly, every roll of your hips dragging your soaked core across the hard press of his thigh. your breathing is starting to catch and you let out a whimper, mostly to yourself. "i think i could actually come like this."

a faint gasp leaves him, like your words just physically hit him in the heart.

"you…" he stammers. it’s a helpless sound. "you want to? like this?"

your face is on fire now. you weren’t even talking to him. you were just overwhelmed. but he’s processing it like it’s the most life altering information he’s ever received.

breathless, he doesn’t even wait for a response. "okay. okay–i’ll help."

his voice is urgent and soft and it cracks a little, as he brings a hand down, sliding between your thighs to gently press his fingers over your panties.

"you wanna come like this? just on my thigh?" he repeats. probably for good measure. probably because it’s really doing something for him.

but the way he’s forcing you to repeat yourself makes you flustered. "yes."

"fuck. okay. yeah. yeah, please–please do it. I wanna see. I’ll help you–just let me help."

his fingers move over your clit in slow circles, matching the rhythm effortlessly. all that time apart and he still hadn’t forgotten how to make you fall apart. It’s not rushed or sloppy. It’s so attentive it almost hurts. like he needs this just as much as you do.

your head drops to his shoulder. you’re breathing harder now, panting into his neck as his fingers works you closer.

you can’t help but to moan softly, hips beginning to stutter.

"you’re so beautiful. like–it’s insane. don’t know how i got so lucky. i didn’t think–shit. i thought about this but not like–this.”

isagi’s talking in broken little bursts now, hands trembling as he watches you fall apart. like he can’t believe you’re really doing it. like you’re some daydream that came to life.

and that’s when you feel him press a kiss to your temple. then your cheek. then your mouth. it’s deep and hot, tiling his head to brush his tongue against yours.

it makes you moan again. the sound is shaky and high, and he groans into the kiss again like it’s actively wrecking him.

"come for me." he begs. "please. just like this. on me."

you can’t help it — you do. it hits hard and fast as the heat in your stomach breaks loose. you shake, with a loud gasp of yoichi!

he holds you through it, planting breathless kisses at the top of your head. you feel him, so hard against your hip, straining through his sweats. untouched.

"that’s my girl. you’re so perfect."

he murmurs, hand gently stroking your back, still reeling himself in. after a long pause, when you’re finally able to catch your breath, he clears his throat.

"it’s a good thing you came when you did."

you lift your head. half in confusion, half wondering if you heard him correctly. your expression prompts him to continue. so, he swallows. hard.

"i was about to come in my pants."

you stare at him. he’s dead serious. just genuine concern. like he was worried for himself. you can’t help but to burst into laughter against him.

practically wheezing against his chest. "oh my gosh. yoichi. you’re serious!" you state, in complete amusement.

he groans. "it’s not my fault, you said it yourself! it’s been months since we’ve seen each other. and you just looked so insanely good, and–"

you’re cackling. he decides to hide his face in your shoulder to save himself the shame.

"you poor thing." you gasp, trying to catch your breath again but for an entirely different reason now.

"i would’ve never recovered from that." isagi mumbles into your skin. you let out a snicker, turning your head to kiss his neck, then his jaw, then his cheek.

a moment passes.

"that thigh riding stuff really turned you on, huh?" you hum. it’s not even teasing. it’s more in the same tone you’d use when making an interesting observation.

his face is still bright red. "i don’t know why it does, but it does. and i’m still turned on." his voice goes quieter, letting out his own huff of amusement. "it hurts."

you shift back in his lap slightly, eyes locking with his.

"good thing i’m here to help, then." your fingers toy with the ribbon tied at the front of your chest. "you still wanna unwrap me?"

his breathing stutters. "more than anything."

and this time, he doesn’t hesitate to pull at the bow. the two of you spend the rest of the day together, attached by the hip.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

a few days later after his birthday, a package arrives at blue lock.

it’s got your handwriting on it.

isagi opens it carefully, expecting new cleats, and they’re there! a sleek new pair in the exact colour he mentioned when you were passing by the market place.

but tucked beside it? there’s a small bubble wrapped keychain.

he blinks.

it’s him.

chibi style isagi yoichi. dribbling with his eyes narrowed and blue lock jersey on. there’s even a little sparkle next to the figurines mouth like he’s mid-dialogue.

your little note reads:

can you believe i found this when i went to pick up your cleats? couldn’t resist getting it. i keep one on my bag too so i guess we’re matching. xoxo from your biggest fan.

he stares at it for a long time.

like he can’t believe there’s an actual keychain of him existing.

"they made my calves too big." he mumbles to himself, blushing furiously.

later that day, rin sees it hanging from isagi’s duffel bag and squints.

"you attached a toy of yourself to your gear, lukewarm?"

isagi shrugs, also staring down at it.

"it was a gift. from my girlfriend. you know, cause i have one. cause i’m not a cold jerk. like some people."

bachira gasps somewhere in the distance.

"where’s my isagi keychain?"

[yeehawpim]

"Kintsugi (Japanese: 金継ぎ, lit. 'golden joinery'), also known as kintsukuroi (金繕い, "golden repair"), is the Japanese art of repairing broken pottery by mending the areas of breakage with urushi lacquer dusted or mixed with powdered gold, silver, or platinum.

"As a philosophy, it treats breakage and repair as part of the history of an object, rather than something to disguise."

—Kintsugi- Wikipedia

[enidtendo64]

Rev!dipcifica

[maculategiraffe]

last week my parents and I went over to my sister's house for lunch and hung out for awhile afterwards and finally the baby was like "I am ready for everybody to go home now" and my mom got a little bit shirty about it. not a lot in front of the baby (endless bitching afterwards to me and my dad 🫠) but enough that my sister definitely would have noticed my mom being Displeased and probably the baby would too because he is incredibly observant and intelligent.

BUT today the baby was playing in the sandbox and my sister was singing quietly to herself over a craft project and I said "is that a mama nous song you're singing?" and she said yeah and I said "she's so great, thanks for introducing me to her" and she said "yeah I love her. I actually made up a song kind of in her style for [baby] after last week, you know when he asked y'all to leave?" and she sang it to me. I wish I could remember the lyrics exactly but it was something like

"it's okay to have boundaries, it's okay to say no / it's okay to tell people when you'd like for them to go! / they might be sad about it, they might wish they could stay / but it's not your job to fix that and your feelings are okay!"

and I honest to god almost cried right there. she's so amazing and I can't believe how lucky I am to have her for my incredible sister and for the mother of my incredible nephew