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fauvester · 1 year

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ok, so. Since your adoption AU has quickly become my no. 1 new obsession, I would totally love to make some fanart or write some fanfic about it. Would you be okay with that?

If not, that’s totally fine! If yes, I’d really like for you to ramble to me about these questions I have (if you have time) because if I make fanart/fanfic I want it to be 100% accurate, because I’m a perfectionist. So, correct me if I’m wrong pls:

Elim “Lim” Junior likes to cook, was the first to get adopted, and is the oldest brother. He seems to me to be a calm kinda guy. Gives me safe vibes, like I would let him bear hug me. What does he do, I wonder? Like, for a living? Or what does he want to do when he’s older? Idan is the youngest, absolute cutie, I adore him. What does he want to do when he grows up? And what are his hobbies? Iskra is Garak’s little girl, except she’s not even that little and also she marries a Klingon doctor, am I right? Is she the one who tries out tailoring, do I remember that correctly? What does she do for a living? Or is she actually a professional tailor?? Then, there’s Jocasta. She’s older than Iskra, right? She’s a nurse. Does she work with Julian sometimes? What else does she like to do in her free time?

Yes, I’m interrogating you, yes I want to get to know them, I’m sorry if this is too many questions at once. Don’t feel obligated to answer all of this. Hope you have a great day! :)

Oh man I'd be so flattered!! come on into the sandbox!! I'm so chuffed that you like them as much as I do! Let me try to put stuff down that I've been carrying around in my head re: the kids -

Young Elim ("Lim" "Elim Garak, no relation") is of a very calvinist cut (always busy, always doing something useful, always sober, always parsimonious). Repairs, cooking, cleaning. Inclined to be grumpy. Phenomenally stubborn. Probably a good hugger but on the stiff side. Remembers the most about his family before the Fire, and for decades his grief manifested as anger and the most convenient subject for that anger was the Manifestation of the Old Cardassia, Garak senior. They had a contentious relationship with him until Lim got into his twenties and mellowed out a bit, but they had some bitterly cold grudge matches before then (Garak, beefing with a child? MUCH more likely than you'd think!)

He's a full time housekeeper, first for his Castellan father (he's the cardassian jackie kennedy. refurbishing the Castellan's home, overseeing the rest of the help, hosting events, etc) and then for his mayor wife (and their many future children). Nobody would suggest that it's an unmanly line of work, but they may privately think it. Lim was never a particular stand-out at school and decided to let Iskra be the ambitious one.

His wife is a lot. She REALLY wanted to marry into the Garak family for political cache and set her cap on him but he was NOT having it at first. She had to do a lot of courting. They get along just fine now. Iskra doesn't like her but maybe that's because they're too similar.

Idan is IN STARFLEET! The first Cardassian, and Cardassia isn't even part of the federation! By the time he was growing up, Bashir's disillusionment with the Federation softened enough to weave lots of tempting tales of adventure and discovery for his youngest.

Worf is his idol (first Klingon solidarity!) but where Worf recognized the "you have to decide whether to be liked or be respected" decision and decided to be respected at the expense of coming off as an unpleasant terminally humorless zealot, while Idan plays up his natural goofiness to keep his classmates from feeling threatened by their 6'4 appropriately strong, fast Obsidian Order/Starfleet Medical raised Scion of Cardassia classmate. He's actually very capable and very dangerous when he isn't pretending to be an idiot (or more of one than he really is, at least). Just wants to be liked. Kind of a jock, plays racquetball and does vulcan martial arts. Enjoys Romulan pop (rpop) like every other young Cardassian.

Has a tail. Accidentally trips people sometimes.

Iskra is for real that little. She's very short.

She gets along best with Garak, at least until Lim grows up-up. She was taught from a young age to memorize, recite and debate at length, and naturally did well in academics. She goes to some Federation planet (Andor?) to study comparative law, and then back to Cardassia to read Cardassian law as an apprentice. Through a combination of bald nepotism, personal charisma and actual merit, she snags a position as the attachè of Ambassador Lang to the Federation, where she spends a few years advancing her father's administration's diplomatic interests. Once he steps down and Lang takes his place she ends up... somehow... on a Starfleet mission......?...... and meets her eventual wife! She serves... some diplomatic purpose. Besides amusing herself. I just haven't decided what that would be yet.

Jocasta (oh sweet babbygirl I have not developed you much at all lol) gets along best with Julian because he does enough talking for both of them. She started out helping him with office work in the hospital, but she's the sort of person who Does Work when it Needs to be Done and took enough tasks onto herself that she's become indispensable. Bashir taught her what she needs to know about nursing, and she helps him with the cultural missteps he occasionally still makes. She's the last line of defense if someone's a particularly hard stick because she can throw a needle under tough scales like it's nothing (she could have been a good Obsidian Order torturer).

She would have been the Housekeeper of the family if not for Lim, so she does the decorative stuff that he doesn't - mending and eventually sewing, gardening, even a little art. It reminds Garak a little too much of Ziyal sometimes, but that's a kind of gift, too.

ANYWAYS THATS THE KIDDOOOOOOOOOS! I have a lot of stuff thrown in the #garashir adoption au tag if you're looking about for other tasty bits, it is all approximately Fauve-canon but feel free to play in this space however you like.. I love to talk about them! I'd be so tickled if you wanted to do something with them.

#dee s 9 #garashir adoption au #ON MY HANDS AND KNEES.. CRYING!#eberyone is so NICE to me... and these fake little lizards!!#i dont want to make it too like cozy and wholesome... its postwar.. their adopted fathers are Complicated People....#dealing w the inheritance of a colonial empire n all.. but I want these fake guys in my head to end up OK....#lim is not very likable until you get to know him.. iskra is terminally extroverted and self-deceptive..#Idan is terrified of becoming the scary fashy cardassian killer everyone expects him to be... jocasta's cool actually nothing wrong w her #ANYWAYSSS THANKS FOR ASKING ME ABOUT THEM I LOVE THEM! come enjoy the sandbox #i got the *desperately looking for something 2 argue about* WELL I THINK BAJOR IS FLAT! from a garashir tumblr post lol #its very Them. elim and his wife get a whole pride and prejudice little thing going on. Shes a girlboss hes her little meow meow #for fun iskra plays kotra. reads (huge volumes. mostly cardassian). makes cocktails. schmoozes at parties. calls yadek to gossip.#jo had like a little simmering crush on lim for years which is very weird but in her defense they didnt meet until their teens

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lifesver · 9 months

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a voiceline in this video i watched implied leland/ana to me though and i got so damn startled. not bc i'm opposed but i was like (??) the way i assumed ana didn't even go to the same school as the rest of them???

#me like: you huh you what did u just call her sweetie #apparently she calls him smth affectionate too in a voiceline but i swear to god the lines are so rare i never heard them #is this why their shirts match and they're both tank adjacent class #anyway idk about confirmation so i'm just going to play in my sandbox i knew this would happen 2 me

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sing-me-under · 1 year

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Hmm so I hear that DSMP S2 is officially not happening, and honestly, I’m not surprised. Kinda sad that Eggpire will never get its conclusion, but it really was only Eggpire that I had expectations for. I was fully expecting the other storylines to just die out like they had been for the past two years.

To me, the entirety of the DSMP has only ever felt like a ridiculously huge crack fanfic that garnered a lot of “inspired by” and fanart, and sometimes things like that just end.

I will continue to reblog DSMP art and maybe post my own stuff, but for the most part, I’ve already made myself comfortable in a new fandom with its own set of problematic discourse.

…. ……….. YOU KNOW WHAT. I CAN FULLY INDULGE IN MY OWN CANON INTERPRETATION NOW SINCE I DON’T HAVE TO WITH ABOUT FUTURE MATERIAL. ITS MY SANDBOX NOW.

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dreamsurvivormultiplayer · 2 years

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i have a lot of thoughts about not only the inherent creativity in and encouraged by Minecraft, but also how significantly it fosters that in ways a lot of other games don’t. Like, yes, there are roleplaying games or games where you can build up your environment, but there aren’t many where you get both, and there are even fewer where you feel so compelled to tell a story even in the most casual of let’s plays.

Like, it’s really no mystery why Minecraft let’s plays in particular, especially in multiplayer, are so popular, because with each let’s play you’re almost guaranteed some purposeful or accidental narrative with how the game just perfectly lends itself to telling stories. Even in the rare instances of let’s plays or servers that don’t accidentally stumble into narratives, there’s always some kind of unique history to explore.

#minecraft #also i think there's something to be said about the audience that it draws in #and particularly often the lens the game is seen through is from content creators who are inherently creative types of people #because content creators *need* to be creative types to sustain that type of content casually #so of course when you throw creative types in the creative game they create. no duh.#but there's just so much freedom with minecraft you dont get often. and thats just vanilla minecraft #thats not even BEGINNING to touch upon MODDED minecraft. we're honestly so blessed to have such a wide dedicated modding community #and for the game itself to make modding the game so accessible #like. put a kid in a sandbox and they will make a castle. but they will also tell a story about the crab king who lives there.#then give them the tools to go FURTHER and that kid is gonna tell the wildest narrative you've ever heard #thats minecraft. quite literally. its called a sandbox game for a reason.#but honestly the level of customization is so unique - there's SO MUCH you can do with a minecraft skin & i feel like thats underappreciated #lies on floor. i just like ranting about minecraft. its my favorite game.#its just SO COOL

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gyrabanias · 1 year

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the one w the mirror black psyche lock reminds me of a fic I read where nick used the magatama on himself like that and it's such a FUN idea

#kris and athenas black locks are 100% Different but like. eats all of it i like both #the magatama is just. really fun #i dont think nick always carries it on him BY ANY MEANS #but it makes me so happy that the thi g that ''levels'' the playing field for phoenix is the feys #like apollo/trucy/athena all have their things but nicks greatest weapon (besides like. himself.) is always the feys at his back #and once we step past the trilogy. when the feys have all found their own thing and phoenix is alone #we never see evidence of the magatama until the very very end and SHAKES MY BARS #what im rotating in my brain rn is the line after nick is acquitted and he says kris was a man of great importance for him #legally and as a friend #personally i dont think phoenix Knew it was kris for at least a good year or two.#bc theres points in turnabout trump where it still almost feels like nick is TRYING to believe it's not kris. like during the phone call #and it brings up the question of if he ever used the magatama before the end. or if kristoph managed not to trigger it the ENTIRE TIME #AND ONLY THEN DID IT RESPOND #keeps me up at night #it's all circumstantial so we can sit here all day and consider different avenues. i love 7yr gap. best sandbox on earth #jillian talks sometimes #i also like the idea of him and edgeworth chucking it back and forth at each other both for stupid shit #and stuff that makes me want to cry for 18 days straight #but i think nicks amazing with tells now bc of trucy and poker. so he only brings it out when he really needs it #nick poking edgeworth's face bc all his tells are tiny facial movements and biting the inside of his mouth

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satorhime · 1 year

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recess + gojo satoru ── ◜ ⪩⪨ ◞

── ◜ ⪩⪨ ◞ content : dad!gojo, f!reader, fluff, comfort, reader ‘n’ gojo r not the best parents but they just wanna comfort their sweet baby girl, reader is referred to as ‘mrs’, ‘mama’, school fights, light discussion of insecurities, bullying + discrimination･｡･ w.c. 2.2k

── ◜ ⪩⪨ ◞ synopsis : you, satoru, and your daughter’s first trip to the principle’s office.

── ◜ ⪩⪨ ◞ notes : i am in the fluffiest mood ever for my dear heart so i present u another one of my dad!gojo fics. this one tugged at my heart strings tho :( not proofread!

the school calls and says that your five-year-old daughter got into a fight with another student during recess, and the first thing satoru asks is “did she win?”

an hour later, the two of you are sitting in the middle of the principle’s office on a worn, brown leather couch while an aide fetches your little girl from lunch. the differences in your respective reactions is stark, a contrast of color that can be seen throughout your relationship.

while you are respectful of authority, nodding along and gasping in horror with your hand clutching your necklace as the principle explains that your daughter was seen punching a little boy in the sandbox, satoru has his legs kicked up on the principle’s big oak desk, his head thrown back in full blown laughter. you have to lash out, smacking his chest with your fist just to get him to quiet down— only for him to retaliate with a pinch to the side of your thigh.

“i believe i see where the violence comes from,” the principle clicks her tongue over the melodramatics of satoru coughing and spitting after your hit, her lip curled in disapproval. she has a severe look about her, like the suffocatingly conservative elders in satoru’s clan. “mister and missus gojo, you must know this behavior is highly inappropriate.”

“we’re sor-”

“you never answered my question you know,” satoru cuts you off before you can apologize like a good little student yourself, sitting up straight and cocking his head to the side. even though you can’t see his eyes, covered by his dark shades, you can almost taste his amusement in the air. he is not taking any of this seriously, and why would he?

he was the one who taught her how to throw a punch.

“and what question would that be, mister gojo?”

“if she won the fight or not, of course!” he says, punctuating each word with a wag of his finger. with his million dollar grin all wide on his face. some things never change no matter how old you get because you can tell that he enjoys challenging authority. that he decided the principle was just another one of the higher ups who abused their power and looked down their nose at the youth after one glimpse of her personality and leadership.

the principle opens her mouth, likely to scold him, but then the door opens and your little one steps through with the aide carrying her backpack. her head is hung low, her chin tucked against her chest and her fists are bunched in the hem of her uniform skirt as she walks in— the very picture of guilt.

“you can ask her instead,” the principle concludes, and you become a little closer to seeing gojo’s approach to things. you don’t like the way she looks at your baby, ready to toss the key away for a kindergartner who can barely speak properly without even knowing if she initiated the fight or not. you grit your teeth, though. you’re trying to be civil, for crying out loud.

after all, your child doesn’t need two maniacs for parents.

“miss gojo,” the principle calls, addressing your kindergartener directly. when she raises her chin, she has a defiant look in her big, glacier blue eyes that rival’s her father’s own. there’s a fleck of rice stuck cutely to the side of her mouth, no doubt from the onigiri you packed in her bento this morning. her little white plaits are in disarray, the colorful barrettes you accessorized her hair with lost and nowhere to be found, and when your eyes drop down to her hands, you can tell that she’s hiding her bruised knuckles in her skirt. “do tell us what happened, and absolutely no fibs or tall tales, please.”

“uhm…” her eyes roam the room, intimidated by the adults watching her with expectation. she earns a patient nod and smile from you, and a cheeky wink from satoru over the rim of his glasses. taking a deep breath, she mumbles, “uhm. i was playing in the big box and sōta-kun started saying mean stuff so i punched him real hard.”

“and do you think that was an appropriate approach to someone saying something you don’t like, miss gojo? our school does not condone violence or bullies. we teach kindness and communication.”

“i thought he would dodge! dada always dodges my hits when we train,” she huffs in defense, blowing air into her cheeks. you shrink in your chair, placing a hand over your face in embarrassment because you know exactly what she’s about to say next. “aaaand, dada told me that whenever i don’t like something someone say, i can just blast them off the face of the earth when i get strong!”

“i do recall telling her that,” satoru takes credit proudly, his grin turning mischievous.

“satoru,” you warn, sighing. “really not the time.”

“i’m seen but silent.” he spreads his palms in surrender, mocking what you always tell your daughter to be when she makes too much racket in public. “and pretty.”

“it seems that neither one of you are concerned with your child’s concerning behavior. you make quips while her fellow student had to be sent to the infirmary because of her actions,” the woman’s voice is grave and authoritative, cutting through the lackadaisical attitude swirling around satoru. his posture never changes, but you can see the moment his spine straightens. “the child’s parents are demanding she be expelled.”

“what’s ‘expelled’?”

“i’ll explain it to you later, my love,” you whisper.

“sheesh, these old geezers are all the same,” he whistles, rolling his eyes.

“excuse me?” she demands, turning red.

“what my heart means to say,” you hiss through clenched teeth, cutting a glare so dark at him that his grin falters. though you’ll have no control over it later, it’s no secret the path you want for your little girl. you have not mistaken the abnormal luminescence in her eyes for anything but what it is, what it will develop into. she inherited her father’s powers, and it’s important that you give her even the tiniest semblance of a normal life. going to a good school with children on the outside, at least at first, is the first step to that. “is that surely, this can be handled with leniency? we still do not know what was said to cause her to react this way and-”

“it does not matter what was said,” the principle barks. “our academy has no need for violence, nor… a peculiar like her who-”

“if i were you, i would be careful with your words,” satoru’s voice lowers and he leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “it’s her first offense, ain’t it? she’s five. just let her apologize to the kid and suspend her for a couple of days, if you gotta.”

“if not,” he drawls, standing up and stretching his arms casually. you know it’s time to leave when satoru starts threatening people— you hold out your hand to your daughter so that she can take it before grasping onto satoru’s sleeve and hauling him towards the door, too. “i may suddenly become interested in a transfer and a promotion.”

you almost roll your eyes because he doesn’t even have a real license to teach.

“you are over the line, sir. you must know that threats-”

“think about it!”

and then, he grins one last time at the gobsmacked principle as you begin hauling your two troublemakers out of the office.

each of your daughter’s tiny pinky fingers are curled around one of you and satoru’s as you all walk home afterwards, linked together. she still looks so crestfallen, so guilty it almost makes gojo chuckle, but he settles for an amused grin cocked to one side of his glossy lips. she keeps sighing exaggeratedly, and there is never any denying whose daughter she is.

“soooo,” satoru is the one to ask, surprisingly. he usually lets you play the villain in the storybook before bedtime. “what did the brat say that made you knock him out with a right hook, princess? hitting without a reaaaally good reason is bad. i think i forgot to add that in my lesson last time.”

it’s the question that’s been brewing in the back of your mind as well— why did your gentle baby girl get into a playground brawl with another student? has she been displaying this behavior at school all along? you knew that satoru training her before she could even read a book properly was a horrible idea, but you had wanted to compromise with him since you had decided she would be raised away from sorcerers during her childhood.

“the left one,” she mumbles the correction, sniffling dejectedly. “i already- i already said him kept saying mean stuff.”

“like what, baby?” you encourage softly, reaching down to swipe a stray tear that rolls down her cheek. you bite your lip, trying to figure out how to approach the beginning of a lesson on how to direct her negative emotions away from lashing out, and into something more rational. “you can tell me and dada, if you’re comfortable with it.”

“yep! we’re perfect at keeping secrets too.”

“him said that mama wasn’t my real one because i look like a fweak and mama and dada does too. ‘cause i got these stupid dumb blue eyes and stupid dumb white hair that nobody else got. ‘s what they allllll say. ‘cause i’m ugly.”

oh.

satoru’s head lifts a little, and the two of you share a look over her head. anger courses through your veins like liquid fire, ending in hot tears bubbling up in your eyes, and suddenly you aren’t interested in reprimanding your child for defending herself. satoru’s fist clenches until his knuckles turn white, hidden in the pocket of his slacks.

you aren’t idiots— you knew that she would be treated differently, in any school. with you being a foreigner, and satoru having unnatural looks himself, there’s no denying that she sticks out like a sore thumb amongst other children in her class with her snowy white hair and her tiny tinted, prescription goggles that people ask questions about, because while she has the six eyes, she doesn’t know how to use it properly yet and her eyesight is bad because of it.

still, the thought of you missing something is heart wrenching. your baby girl is always cheerful when you or satoru or both pick her up from school at the end of the day, chatting animatedly and showing off her creations from class, but maybe … maybe that was because she was relieved to be home again, surrounded by her favorite things and her loving parents, rather than spending hours a day with people who treated her like she was less than human.

“c’mere, princess,” satoru says, bending at the waist to hoist her off the ground. he perches her up on his arm, letting his shades slide down so that she can look into his eyes. you step a little closer after that, placing a hand on her back for support but you’ll speak to her later when the two of you have a little gossip before bed like you do each night, girl to girl. but right now, satoru is just what she needs. “favorite things that are blue like your eyes? shoot.”

“squirtle!”

“good job, princess. what else?”

she takes great care in huffing, her lower lip stuffing out into a pout, lifting a finger to tap the lens of gojo’s shades, “your eyes.” and then she points to the wedding ring on your finger, with a delicate aquamarine stone set in the middle. she always loved playing with it as a baby. “and mama’s ring.” she thinks for another moment. “and the sky!”

“good job. favorite things that are white like your hair? go!”

a little smile plays on the corners of your lips as you listen to them. satoru is eerily good at parenting when he wants to be, and already she’s swinging and humming because he introduced her to a game of listing her favorite things that looks like her.

“oh-! ice cream, and… and, megumi-nii’s ps5, and.. and.. your hair, dada!” she cheers, her little voice full of excitement as she bounces up and down.

“you’re so good at this. all those things look different from you, don’t they? but they’re pretty to you anyway, right?”

“yep!”

“so… come on here, help your old man out,” he prompts. “what does that make you?”

“i’m pretty too?”

“that’s right. you got a buy one get one free, you know! you got your mama’s beauty and you got six eyes, when most kids only have two! they’re just jealous.” he insists. “they all are.”

“i have six?” she asks in wonder, and just like that she’s on board, her eyes going round and wide behind her goggles. he nods, reaching up to ruffle her little plaits with a grin. then he glances over at you, switching your daughter over to hold with his other arm so that he can pull you close, loop a long arm protectively around your shoulders as you walk and just like that, he’s holding both of his favorite girls.

“yep, and they’re the prettiest eyes ever, this much prettier than your dada’s,” you singsong, cracking a grin and spreading your arms out as a makeshift measurement.

“ouch,” satoru whines, playfully offended. “unfortunately, she’s right.”

“i’m prettier than you, dada!” she giggles, and it means the world to see her spirits lifted once more.

“you’re the prettiest in the world, jellybean. never let anyone tell you otherwise.” you pinch her cheek, earning one of those sweet giggles from her. “our pretty, special baby girl.”

later on tonight, you’ll have a more serious conversation with her about how though the world will sneer and treat her differently because she doesn’t look like society expects her to, she is beautiful despite it all. that she is a product of love, of the most ardent kind. and heart, and happiness. that she is the best thing in the world and you would not trade her for anybody else.

tomorrow, you’ll be raising hell against that school for letting children bully your daughter, for a child having to defend herself against discrimination. but right now, the last thing you say after the school calls and says that your five-year-old got into a fight with another student during recess is “let’s get you ice cream that looks like you to celebrate causing your first black eye!”

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo fluff #gojo satoru fluff #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen fluff

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musicforastylesrestaurant · 1 month

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School Pick Up.

masterlist || ask me anything <3

my blurb masterlist is here !!

authors note - these photos just screamed dad!harry so enjoy ☺️

word count - 700

in which, harrys on school pick up duties for his little one, and it’s his babies favourite time of the day when he sees his best friend, his father standing at the gates.

Harry stood patiently at the school gates, the afternoon sun casting a warm glow around him. His daughter, Indigo, was finishing up her day in school any moment now, and he couldn't wait to see her.

With his signature pink phone case pressed to his ear, he listened intently to his wife, (Y/N), who was asking him to stop by the shop on the way home to get some bread.

"Hey, lovie, everything okay?" Harry greeted warmly, a smile playing on his lips as he leaned against the gate.

"Hi, H. Could you do me a favour and pick up some bread on your way home? We're fresh out, and you know how Indi loves her beans on toast after school," (Y/N) requested, her voice carrying a hint of urgency.

Ah, of course.

Since Indigo had started school back in September, each day after school either you or harry would whip her up some beans on toast, it was like her little treat for getting through the school day because god knows she hated going to that place.

Most morning you would drop her off and she would be hysterical, clinging onto you like a tearful little monkey crying out that she wanted her ‘daddy!’

"Of course, no problem. Anything else you need?" Harry replied, already mentally adding bread to his list of errands.

"No, that's it for now. If I remember anything else I’ll text you, Thanks, baby," (Y/N) said gratefully, her tone softening with appreciation.

"You're welcome, lovie. See you soon," Harry said, already looking forward to their reunion.

As the school bell rang, signalling the end of the day, Indigo's teacher led her class out of the building. Being in reception, Indigo's class was among the first year groups to come out.

The children, still buzzing with energy from the day's activities, chattered excitedly as they followed their teacher in a neat line.

Indigo, with paint smudges on her uniform and her brown hair now a tousled mess from a day of play, eagerly scanned the crowd of parents waiting at the gate.

Her heart leaped with joy when she spotted her dad, leaning against the gates. With her bag hanging off her shoulder, she couldn't contain her excitement.

"Mr Anderson, look, there's my daddy!" Indigo exclaimed, tugging at her teacher's sleeve to get her attention.

Her teacher smiled warmly and nodded, understanding Indigo's eagerness to reunite with her father. "Go on, Indigo. Have a wonderful evening."

With her teacher's permission, Indigo dashed towards Harry, her small feet barely touching the ground as she called out,

"Daddy!"

Harry's heart melted at the sight of his daughter running towards him. He pushed himself off the gate and opened his arms wide, ready to catch her.

As Indigo reached him, she threw herself into his embrace, her laughter filling the air.

"Hey, my indi girl!" Harry greeted, lifting Indigo up and spinning her around, his heart brimming with love and joy.

Harry placed her down on the floor before heleaned down to Indigo's level, a playful glint in his eyes. "How was school today, sweetheart?"

Indigo's face lit up with excitement as she recounted her day. "It was really good, Daddy! I played with my friend Tommy, and we made a castle out of blocks in the sandbox."

Harry chuckled, tousling her hair affectionately. "Tommy, huh? Sounds like y’had a blast. But y’know the rule, no boyfriends until you're thirty-five, alright?"

Indigo wrinkled her nose in mock disgust. "Ew, no, Daddy! Tommy's not my boyfriend. Boys are yucky!"

Harry couldn't help but laugh at her exaggerated reaction. "Oh, really now? Well, s’a relief. M’not ready for you to have a boyfriend just yet."

Indigo nodded vigorously, her brown hair bouncing with each movement. "Me neither, Daddy! Boys are gross!"

Harry smiled, feeling a surge of affection for his daughter's innocence. He squeezed her hand gently, grateful for these lighthearted moments together. "S’my girl. You focus on having fun and being yourself. No need to worry about boys just yet."

Indigo grinned up at him, her dimples deepening. "Okay, Daddy! I'll remember that."

"Alright, Indi, it's time to go home and see Mummy," Harry said, gently guiding his daughter away from the school gates.

Harry brushed his finger over her knuckles, “You know what that means indi girl?”

She gleamed up at him, dimples shining. Before exclaiming:

“Beans On Toast!”

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skipper1331 · 8 months

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Butterfly // Alessia Russo

Brody Armstrong once said: "When you meet someone for the first time, that’s not the whole book. That’s just the first page" and she’s totally right. When you first met Alessia you didn’t know that quote, you could barely speak let alone read but over the years, when got older, you started to understand it. The day you met her, the first page was written and your story began. Now, Alessia and you have been together for 9 years, 3 of them married and it‘s still not finished.

age 4

You have known each other since you were 4. The two of you lived in the same street and played at the same playground.

You were building a sandcastle with 3 towers, two of them already finished when a little girl ran towards the sandbox you were sitting in. As clumsy as the girl was she stumbled over the edge of the box, falling on your towers, smashing them under her body. With wide eyes you looked at the blonde, her face full of sand "i‘m sowwy" she apologized immediately. You looked to your mother who was talking to a stranger. "That‘s my mum." the sandcastle smasher pointed at the woman next to your mother. "You broke my castle" she looked at you before filling your bucket with sand, ready to build a new castle. "I‘m Alessia"

"My name is y/n"

That day Alessia and you became friends.

age 6

Less was standing at the table, drinking something while she watched you. You were running around in the Russo garden, trying to catch a butterfly. But not only her eyes were on you but also the eyes of her mum and your mum. "She‘s my butterfly" the blonde admitted without thinking. "Lessi, she’s not a butterfly, she’s a girl." her mother said to her, not liking that she referred to you as an animal. "Then, she‘s my girl!" she put down the glass of water and ran back to you with the intention to help you catch the butterfly. It didn‘t work. Either it was too high to reach or no longer in sight so you decided to kick a ball instead.

age 10

The two of you were in training when one of your teammates stood on your ankle. It wasn’t on purpose but when the italian saw you go down, holding your ankle, crying, she ran up to you, pushing the girl away from you. She didn't want her around you any longer. "Please stop crying, butterfly" Lessi begged as she wiped the hair out of your face. "It hurts" by now the coach joined you as well, taking of your boot. You winced, Alessia instantly put her arm around shoulder, trying to comfort you and sort of protect you. Your ankle was red, surely there was going to be a bruise "Let’s get you to the sidelines, okay?" Coach said as the helped you up but you couldn‘t put weight on your foot. "I got it from here, coach" the blonde grumbled as she took your hands. "You sure?"

"Yes" when the coach walked away to the others girls Less took the matter in her own hands. "I‘m gonna carry you to the side" she stated as she picked you up with an ease. She carried you out of the way and sat you back down slowly. She sat beside you, glaring at the girl who hurt you. As a thank you you laid your head on Lessi‘s shoulder.

In that moment, Alessia promised herself to protect you forever.

age 14

When Alessia was 14 she realized she liked girls. That she liked a girl, a special girl. You. She loved the way your laugh sounded, she loved the way you smiled. She loved the way you would take care of her if she had been clumsy, she loved your kindness. She loved your eyes, the way they shone. She loved that she could make you laugh and blush. She loved you, you‘re her butterfly.

You fell in love with Alessia a long time ago, probably to a time where you didn‘t know what love was. She made you feel special.

It was after a home game when Alessia first kissed you. Alessia scored a hattrick and you scored as well. It was afternoon as her mum picked you up, "see you in 30 minutes, butterfly?" the striker asked as her mum dropped you off. She loved to call you butterfly and has done it for years now. Everybody knew. "Yes. Thanks for the ride, Carol!"

"No problem, honey"

Later that day, you met at your spot. It was a bench at the small lake your town had. "Your hattrick was amazing!" you stated proudly as she got off her bike. "Your goal was a banger though" she smiled as sat down next to you, her hair still wet. You blushed under her gaze, the tip of your ears turning red "no need to get shy, butterfly" the italian smiled while she pinched your cheeks "stop it" you whined as your cheeks turned a deeper shade of red. "I- i can‘t" her hands cupped your cheek as she gazed in your eyes, getting lost in them. "Lessi" you breathed as her face inched closer. You could feel her breath against your lips. Her gaze flicked to your lips before she looked back in your eyes. As she made the final move with pushing her lips against yours you rested your hands on her knees, not knowing where else to put them. It was your first kiss with Alessia and your first kiss in general, you didn‘t even know how to move your lips so you didn‘t and neither did Lessi. "Oh my god," she whispered as she pulled apart "i‘m so sorry." Quickly, she grabbed her bike and cycled home, leaving you alone at the bench. Dazed, your fingers touched the spot where Alessias lips had been a minute ago. "Wow"

age 15

Behind closed doors, you kissed multiple times a day. It was one of your favorite things to do yet you were not offically together. Sometimes she asked you to take you out on a date and sometimes you asked her but the girlfriend question has never been asked, both of you too shy.

You were hanging out at her house, sitting on her bed while she sat on the bean bag. "You don‘t know what happened today"

"Tell me, butterfly"

"You know, Josh, the dark haired guy. He asked me out" you laughed, letting your head fall into her pillow. "What?!" the striker shouted, jumping off her seat. She didn‘t find it funny at all that Josh asked you out. You, her girl, her butterfly. "What did you say?" she asked as stepped closer to you. "I said no," a sigh of relief left her body "did you think i would‘ve said yes?"

"I don‘t know?" she admitted, you weren‘t fully hers yet. "Lessi," you pulled her on to you, your fingers playing with the hem of her shirt "I want to be your girlfriend"

"Be my girlfriend, butterfly."

The two of you shared a sweet kiss, the first one of many as girlfriends.

age 16

"Do you want sleep at mine, tonight?" your girlfriend of one year asked. "My parents and brothers won‘t be home until sunday afternoon" her face turned bright red as she played with your fingers. "I would love to"

You didn‘t know why you were nervous, you had stayed at Alessias house multiple times but this time it felt different, for the both of you. "Hi, butterfly" the blonde smiled as she opened the door. "I hope you‘re hungry because i made lasagna" you stepped into her home - your second home - as she closed the door. Pressing a kiss to your temple she pulled you into the kitchen. "It looks perfect, baby"

Your girlfriend and you ate dinner on the couch while watching Mamma Mia. After finishing the dish, the empty plates rested on the coffee table. Alessia was hugging your smaller figure with her head hiding in the crook of you neck, the movie long forgotten. Your legs were tangled together while you played with her hair as she started to press kisses along your neck. "Baby" you breathed, only encouraging her to leave some hickies on your neck. Her kisses trailed up your jaw and then to your lips which she kissed passionately. Her hands held your neck while your hands made their way under her hoodie, scratching her back, occasionally running your fingers over her abs. It made her go crazy. "Do you wanna go upstairs?" she asked, wanting to take steps further with you. Her lips were just as swollen as yours. "Yeah"

In her room, she immediately started to kiss you again, grabbing your waist and pulling you in to her. Your arms looped around her neck as she walked you back against her door. She pulled on your (her) hoodie, asking If she could take it off. Within seconds you got rid of it. "You‘re so beautiful" the italian whispered as she looked over you. "Take yours off, too" - she did.

On her bed, she was hovering above you, the two of you only in your underwear. "Are you sure you want this?" she questioned, just to be sure. "Yes, lessi. Yes" you smiled at one another before you leaned up to re-connect your lips.

"I love you"

"I love you, too"

age 18

Long distance. With Lessi being at unc and you being in England, it was hard but you managed. You had to.

"Were gonna be okay even when i‘m at unc, don’t we?" Her voice was quiet, afraid of your answer. She was playing with your hair while your head rested on chest "of course we will" you stated confidently. Yes, it would be hard, maybe even horrible at times but you loved her and she loved you. "You won‘t find another girl, promise me." Your head snapped in her direction as she looked so vulnerable. "Lessi, i love you! There‘ll never be another girl, okay?" your girl nodded shyly as you whispered "i promise you" before kissing her forehead.

To be honest, your relationship had it‘s problems with her being far away. Jealousy, and longing were the two biggest problems on both sides but you communicated your feelings and worries. And in the end, it made your relationship grow stronger.

age 21

Lessi was nervous. For months, she had planned this day. Ella was her savior because she couldn‘t talk to you about it like she normally would. The italian was about to propose to you. For years, you have been her girl, her one and only. She knew you were the one, she wanted to spend forever and longer with you. The plan was simple: the two of you would visit your hometown and her brothers would distract you as long as she needed them to so that she can prepare everything at your spot. She had the blessing of your parents, from everyone that was important to you.

As she finished preparing everything, she texted in the siblings group chat.

Less

ready.

"Lessi is waiting for you" Luca said as she scanned her text. "What?" you asked confused, not understading anything. She told you she would get food. "Go to your favorite spot" Gio stated as she pushed you gently out of the door. And you did.

You saw her standing near the lake, she looked beautiful under the sun light. Rose petals were spread on the floor, music playing softly in the backround. "Baby, what’s this?" you asked, admiring everything around her. "Butterfly," she grabbed your hands, pulling you in front of her "when I was 4 I met you for the first time and when I was 14 I first realized that I liked you, I kissed you for the first time, too. In that decade you became my butterfly. I‘ve never told you why or how but that changes now. It was a summer day, you were at my house. I remember drinking some water as you chased after a butterfly. Then you became my butterfly. You‘re my biggest supporter, my number one fan, you bring the best out of me as a football player and human and I love you so much. I couldn’t have wished for a better friend, best friend and girlfriend" you were crying by now while she took a deep breath before she continued. "I want you to be my wife." As she went down on one knee, she pulled a velvet box out of her pocket "I promise you to cherish you and I promise you that I will do everything in my power to make you happy so will you make me the happiest person alive, will you marry me?"

"Yes!!! A thousand times yes!"

A year later, the two of you got happily married and you could proudly call yourself Y/n Russo.

age 23, summer 2022

"We‘re champions!" you shouted as you jumped on Lessi who hugged you like her life was depending on it. "We did it" she mumbled into your neck, still completely in shock. When your feet touched the ground, you didn‘t let go of your wife and neither did she. Surrounded by your own little bubble, you only cared for one another in this moment. As Alessia pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead your little bubble was broken by an Ella Toone. She jumped on both of you, one leg around Less' hip and one around yours as she hugged you in a death grip.

Each lioness was drunk as hell. Everyone had their jerseys on and their medal around their necks as they danced. "I‘m so proud of you" you whispered against your lovers lips. "I love youuu" she replied in her drunken state, twirling you around. "My name on your back always does things to me" she almost moaned, her fingers tracing over the letters of her - your - name.

Both of you felt at peace, surrounded by each other, your family and friends. It was a night to remember.

age 24

The world cup dream came true. Less and you were in the squad. As you heard the news you squealed, jumped up and down, ran through your home. Your bodies were filled with pure joy.

The first night in Australia was wow. You couldn‘t believe that you were actually here. Also that the two of you shared a room was amazing; waking up and going to sleep in each others arms.

When your off day came by you slept a little longer than you normally would. Lessi had her arm around you, already awake as she traced her finger over your tattoo. Shortly after the euros, you decided to get matching tattoos so now there rested the 23 on your collarbone while she got a butterfly at the same spot on her body. It was nothing big but it held so much meaning behind it.

Your story began 20 years ago and still hasn't come to an end nor does it intend to end as you promised one another in your vows.

Each day, the story of the 23 and butterfly will continue.

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#alessia russo #alessia russo x reader #woso fanfics #woso #woso x reader #arsenal wfc #ella toone #engwnt #lionesses #engwnt x reader #arsenal x reader #lionesses x reader

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the-californicationist · 5 days

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The Window (4 of 5)

Ch 01 // Ch 02 // Ch 03 // Ch 04 // Ch 05 --- AO3 Link

Seeing him again had been a shock. They’d arrived late — not that you were checking on their flight or anything — and they were all a bit worse for wear. Usually, after any mission, good or bad, the flight home was cathartic. Everyone could breathe easy. They were going home to good food and infinite WiFi. It was cause for celebration, no matter how beaten and bruised they felt. But, this time was different.

Price was walking through the hangar while you were cataloging ammunition shipments, lowly desk work while your leg healed up, and he looked so small. Well, he still towered over all of the other soldiers in the bay - except for Ghost - but he just looked so pale and listless. His eyes were dull, staring at the ground, watching his feet take their steps, aimlessly driven to his next destination.

Ghost followed him, equally distracted. His mask was off, and you could see his eye-black smeared all the way down to his mouth, like he’d been rubbing his face, fretting. Gaz had looked furious. He was tossing their gear like it had personally offended him, and he railed into one of the trainees for getting in his way. His warm brown eyes had turned cold and harsh, unfeeling.

Soap was the worst. He jumped from the chopper and immediately started to scan the room, looking for you. He pulled one of the mechanics aside and you heard him asking for you by name, and as the man pointed in your direction, you hid behind the crates. Undeterred, he headed your way, so you crawled into the dark space between where he wouldn’t find you. He searched and searched, pushing aside heavy boxes and truck wheels, hunting for you. He became frantic, pacing back and forth, until Price called his name. His eyes lingered on the darkness where you were hidden, looking but not seeing. Then, glassy-eyed, he retreated, his gaze turning from desperation to unbridled frustration.

It was when you’d been trying to sneak back to the barracks that Price had found you, chasing you through the base. You weren’t running, per se, but you were moving quick enough, and you had quite the head start. He, however, was sprinting, pushing people out of his way, calling after you. When he saw the look on your face, he knew he was in trouble.

“Get back here, Sparrow! That’s an order,” he shouted down the hall.

You turned around to face him, throwing up your hands in an exaggerated shrug,

“You’re not my CO, sir.”

“Spar — Get out of the bloody way!” He shoved a trainee into the wall, pushing past him in an attempt to follow you to your room.

Price was panting, his chest heaving as he grabbed for you, his hands sinking into your soft flesh. You wrenched your body away from him and blocked him from coming into your room. He furrowed his brow and said,

“It’s Sunday. It’s my day.”

“I’m already pregnant. Your services are no longer needed,” you spat, “Much like mine, apparently.”

You tried to shut the door on him, but he blocked it with his huge shoulders, looking at you with a ravenous hunger in his eyes,

“I just got back from the fuckin’ sandbox. We can fight later, but I need you, little bird. Please.”

“And I need you to go fuck yourself… sir.” You slammed the door so hard that you thought you broke the hinges.

You listened to the handle jiggle in the lock from Price’s audacity. Then, silence.

Why was it the silence that hurt the worst?

Soap was at your door that night, banging on it, shaking the frame,

“Bonnie! I ken you’re in there. Lemme in. I jus’ wanna talk to you. Bonnie?”

Silence again, and then there was a slow, wiping sound against the door, like a big palm being slid down it.

“Sparrow? Please.” His voice was so strange. It seemed small. Usually, Soap was the loudest, the most boisterous. And now, he sounded ill.

You listened at the door, hurt and angry, but missing your men. Hearing Johnny beg was almost enough to make you unlock it. Almost.

Over the next week, they all tried to get back in your good graces. Gaz brought you flowers no matter where you were. He covered your desk with them, and you kept throwing them out or giving them away. He left them outside your door, sitting in the hall, complete with little handwritten cards:

I’m so sorry, baby. Please text me? - G.

Come to the main hall? We just need to talk. - G.

You ripped his notes up and tossed them in the trashcan irreverently.

Johnny had been a little less subtle. At the end of a long day, he’d be waiting outside your door, sometimes alone, sometimes with the others, trying to get you to listen to him,

“C’mon, bonnie. Dinnae shut us out. Please, lass.”

You had become an expert at the cold shoulder.

Ghost, fitting with his quiet demeanor, wouldn’t beg. In fact, he wouldn’t say a word. But, he followed you everywhere, haunting your office, stalking you at the gym, sitting at your table during briefings. One time, he cornered you in the elevator, riding with you past his own floor, his eyes burning into your skin.

And then there was Price. Other than his presentations during mission briefings, you hadn’t heard his voice since that very first day. But, he was always around. His smoke gave him away. Your room reeked of his tobacco, and when you were working, you’d smell it in the air. But, when you’d look up to spot him, he was nowhere to be found.

That didn’t mean he failed to reach out to you. He was always on your phone. He called you every morning when he woke up, and he called again every night when you went to bed. You never picked up, but as you lay in bed watching his smiling face pop up on your home screen again, this time, you did.

You didn’t say hello. You just waited to hear what he had to say. You needed to hear him again. Anything. Just a hello.

“Sparrow, it was me. It wasn’t them. You have to forgive them. I was the one who —”

You hung up the phone and cried into your pillow hard enough to make yourself sick.

After that night, things got so much worse. Your emotions were raw, and everything made you terribly sad. Your body was in desperate need of someone to care for it, and your hormones were going absolutely haywire. You were either nauseated or horny, and there was no warning which would hit at any given moment.

You found yourself sneaking out of work early, hiding in the shower, furiously coming on your hand over and over, thinking - wishing - that it was Soap's or Gaz's mouth instead. When you lay in bed at night, you desperately ground your hips into your dildo, riding it like you wanted to ride John and his men, wanton and soaking your sheets.

Eventually, you had reached your limit, and you met Soap, Gaz, and Ghost in the mess hall. They were all sufficiently apologetic, and they were curious as to what had changed your mind.

“Dinnae get me wrong, lass. It’s been hard without you, and I’m not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, but… why are you forgivin’ us?”

“Price told me what he did. He said it wasn’t your decision to take me off the team.”

“That’s not true,” Ghost refuted, earning himself a swift nudge from Soap and a glare from Gaz.

“Shut up, mate. Do y’know how long it’s been since —” Gaz hissed, but Ghost interrupted him.

“The captain was the one who fought to keep you on the task force. He was out-voted.”

“Out-voted? There’s only four of you. Should’ve been at draw…” you observed.

“Exactly. We all voted against him. You’ve no bloody business on the field right now, and you know it. You can barely sit here with us for ten goddamn minutes before you’re sprintin’ off to wretch in whatever can’s the closest.”

You averted your eyes from him, trying to process what he was saying, and feeling the sting of shame when you had to admit that he was right. This first trimester had been an absolute nightmare. You were a sweaty, puking mess here in the offices, and you shuddered to think of feeling this way out in the Urzikstani sands, getting shot at, eating nothing but MREs and instant decaf coffee.

“We just wanted the best for you, birdie,” Gaz reached out for your hand and held it in his, “We know how badly you want this baby, and we…” He looked at the others for a moment and said, “And we’ve fallen in love with you, Sparrow. We can’t lose you. Let us take care of you.”

You were so tired, and you needed to release the tension you’d been holding inside of your chest, so you relented.

They followed you back to your room and sat you on the bed, kissing you so deeply that you could feel their hunger. They’d been waiting for you.

All of them were dripping with precome, and you watched as it stained the thick canvas fabric of their pants, making you wonder if they’d even touched themselves in the time they were apart from you.

They began to strip themselves and you, kissing every bit of your skin, leaving purple marks from their aggressive desire. Gaz held your hand to his crotch and rubbed it across the front, making you feel his hardening rod, encouraging you to stroke him. Johnny was busying himself with your pants, aching to put his mouth on your molten core, and just the thought of his tongue was enough to make you shiver.

Ghost bent to suck at your nipples, peeling your shirt and bra off in one go, and you held his head, cradling him with as much affection as you could muster, but as you looked up at you, he knew there was something wrong.

“Hey, stop.”

The others, as if burned, immediately stopped their worship of your body and looked up at you.

Ghost continued to pry,

“What is it, love?”

“I just…” You could feel yourself start to cry.

“You miss him, don’t you?”

The realization hit you like a ton of bricks. You may have forgiven Simon, Johnny, and Kyle, but you missed John. You needed him there. Without him, even their kisses felt hollow.

“We’ll bring him back to you, dinnae fash, hen,” Soap reassured you, throwing on his shirt.

“C’mon, he’s in the gym. I saw him with his bag,” Ghost followed Soap out of your door, hard as a stone and trying to adjust himself to something a little less indecent.

Gaz kissed your lips, his full mouth warm and tasting of cinnamon sugar,

“Be right back, pretty girl.”

You waited five minutes, then ten. You decided to lay down, just for a moment, and before you knew it, you were out.

You weren’t sure how long you slept, but you woke up in someone’s arms, opening your eyes and watching as he lay you in the big, combined bed the five of you shared. You turned to see his face when you felt him crawl into the sheets beside you, blinking the sleep away and trying to catch your bearings.

“John?” You croaked, struggling to find your voice.

“Shh,” he whispered, “Go back to sleep, little bird.”

“They told me…”

“I know. They bloody well shouldn’t have. You need them. You’re both going to need them.”

“I can’t be mad anymore, John. I’m so tired. I just want you all back. Please,” you clutched at his chest, drawing him closer to you in the small bed, “Don’t leave me again.”

“I’m not goin’ anywhere, Sparrow. Here. Feel?”

John’s huge cock was half-hard, and he fit it inside you, slipping it into your wet pussy, squeezing himself through you, just as he loved to do, letting you warm him up. The shock of it went right to your head, and you gasped, hiding your face in the fur of his chest, letting his arms wrap around you protectively.

“I’ll stay right here, birdie. As long as you want me to.”

“Aye,” Soap’s voice spoke up in the darkness, deep and low, “We all will. Tha’s a promise, lass.”

One by one, each of your men came back into the bed, laying their heavy arms over you and each other, bodies and limbs tangled and gripping at whatever flesh they could find.

You felt Ghost’s hand slide over your hip, resting his hand on your belly protectively. Gaz leaned over Price to kiss you before settling his arm over the captain’s ribs, his arm cradling your arm as you cuddled with John. Soap’s feet were wrapped around yours, keeping them warm.

As he hardened inside of you, John kissed your forehead softly.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too, John.”

A part of you was still upset at how heavy-handed they had been with your independence, but you felt your smooth muscles fluttering against John’s cock, and it was getting harder and harder to hold onto the anger that you so desperately wanted to let go of.

As they all settled in to sleep, you decided to try and rekindle the bond that had been broken. You rocked your hips forward, sliding your slick body up and down Price’s fat length. His eyes shot open, burning into you with a dark passion.

“Little bird?”

Your lips found his neck, trailing wet kisses up to his earlobe, taking it in your mouth and suckling at his skin.

“Not tired, love?” Simon asked, planting his own kisses on your shoulder blades, coaxing your hips to rock back and forth, chasing your high.

“You need us, innit tha’ right, lass?” Johnny’s fingers reached over your hip, following Simon’s and then trailed down, finding your swollen clit and rubbing slow, tight circles around it, making you soften around Price like an opening bud, petting your petals until you practically unfurled for him.

“Ungh, Garrick. What are you… “ Price growled through gritted teeth.

You watched as Kyle licked his hand and tucked it behind John’s back, heading for his tight asshole, fucking him gently on his fingers.

“Keep fucking our girl, Cap. She needs you,” Kyle told him, “I’ll take care of you, sir.”

“I’m not as patient as the sergeant is, lover,” Simon rustled under the sheets to find his cock, and he held it in his fist, pumping it against your plump ass cheek, “Will you let me in?”

You turned over your shoulder and let him kiss you, feeling his soft lips slide against yours, giving him your tongue to suck on as his hands kneaded your sensitive breast.

“Yes, Si,” you whispered, “Anything you want.”

You thought his reaction to your words was a little over the top, but Ghost was reacting to Soap, ducked below the sheets, eating his asshole, shoving his tongue deep in the tight opening, prepping him for more.

Simon tucked his cock between your legs, spitting on his hand and rubbing it on you and himself, lubing you up in a messy, frantic sort of way, too desperate to care about finding a bottle of gel somewhere in the room.

Johnny was already rutting into his lieutenant, making Simon’s cock leak and jump, excited and drooling for its own warm hole. When you felt his head touch your asshole, you sighed at the tingling electricity building there, eager to be stretched by him. Finally, he popped into your ass, and he began to fuck himself up into you, inch by inch, filling you up.

Price was grinding his fat dick inside of you, and he groaned when he felt Simon join him on the other side, making you even tighter, forcing the captain to struggle to fit.

Soon, all five of you were fucking each other at the same time, moaning and kissing and licking one another’s skin, twisted together in a wet mess, and you had never felt such pleasure before. It was as if you were all on the edge, ready to come at the faintest breath of an orgasm, waiting for the spark to ignite the whole room into an explosion of ecstacy.

“Mmf-fuck!” Simon’s hand wrapped itself around your neck, “Your fuckin’ arsehole feels like heaven, love.”

“Dinnae stop, Si. I can feel when you bottom out in her. Makes you so tight, mate,” Johnny begged him, pinching the lieutenant’s nipples between his fingers over and over, teasing him relentlessly.

“You alright, little bird?” John asked you, kissing you softly, barely dragging his lips across yours, dreamily moving against you harder and harder, chasing his pleasure, “Fuckin’ Garrick is takin’ away my stamina every time he rams into me like that. Gonna make me come too quick, Gaz.”

“Sorry, sir,” Kyle smiled, giving you a wink, as he licked and nipped at the same earlobe that you had, remembering how much he loved that spot, “Feels too good to stop.”

“Don’t stop,” you moaned, wrapping your hands around John’s shoulders, holding on for dear life, “Don’t ever stop.”

While you wait for the finale, please consider checking out my other work. Thank you!

#call of duty fanfic #cod mw2 #cod mwii #captain price x you #simon riley x you #johnny mactavish x you #kyle garrick x you #tf 141 x reader #141 x reader #task force 141 #tf 141 #141 x you

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smusherina · 14 days

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yard work - chapter 4 (regina george x reader)

fandom: Mean Girls (all media)

pairing: Regina George x OFC/Reader

summary: You'd been in the same class as Regina George since kindergarten. You'd lived on the same street even longer. Once upon a time, when life was sandbox disputes and who got the swing first arguments, you'd even been friends. Now, in junior year of high school, you doubted she even remembered you. The same couldn't be said about you. You definitely remembered her.

warning(s): homophobia becomes a central theme. mention of a close dead relative. internalized misogyny.

chapter 1 / chapter 2 / chapter 3 / chapter 5

You were sitting on the grass under the bleachers when Janis 'Imi'ike came up to you.

"I'm not selling right now." You said, suspecting she was here to see about buying alcohol or something. You had a contact and made a small bit in commissions around the school selling stuff.

"I'm- what? What're you selling?" Oh, well, guess not then.

"Nothing." You didn't want to incriminate yourself. It was bad enough you were smoking a cigarette right this moment. You took another drag. Usually, you didn't smoke during school but today was turning out to be a shittier day than usual.

"I'm not a nark, I could-" She seemed to shake herself. "Anyway. Why did you come to school with Regina today?"

"You saw that?" You inquired, alarmed but making an attempt to hide it.

"Yes. Now, why?"

"We live on the same street. Her car was having issues." You shrugged, trying to play it off.

"How'd you know her car was having issues?" She did not seem inclined to just let it go. It was beginning to annoy you.

"Because I fix it from time to time. Like I said, we live on the same street. We're not friends or anything." While you didn't like lying, especially not when you yourself were bitter about it, protecting Regina's rep was more important.

"I think that's a lie. We went to the same middle school for a while. You were close back then." She accused, crouching to be at level with you. You were officially annoyed now.

"You used to be close too." You took another drag and, noticing your cig was on its last leg, stamped it on the ground. "And how'd that turn out?"

Janis gritted her teeth. "Not well."

"Exactly." You gave her a tight, snarky smile and stood up. "Bye."

"Wait a minute!" She jogged after you as you made for the school building. "I'm not done!"

"I think you are." You called back, hastening your step. "There's nothing for us to talk about, Janis."

"Dude! You're being a huge dick right now." Janis caught up to you, gesturing as if she were offended. "Why are you so touchy?"

"I'm not touchy, I'm pissed that a stranger is getting all up in my business." You informed her curtly. "Lay off."

She held her hands up in surrender, an infuriating smirk on her face. "What business do you have with Regina?"

You halted and dropped your backpack on the ground. "What is your problem?" You advanced on her, not exactly squaring up but still getting a little too close for comfort.

"Woah, protective, aren't you?" She wasn't intimidated in the least. That only angered you more. "Has she ditched Cady already and found a new pet?"

"If I were you, I'd watch my mouth." You said as menacingly as you could.

"We could help each other out, y'know." She said, playing innocent.

"Why would I help you with anything?"

"Because she hurt both of us." You had to agree with that, however reluctantly. "I want revenge. She needs to go down." Now, that you did not agree with.

"What do you mean?" If they were planning a coup or something, you needed to get the details. You wouldn't be putting up with that shit.

"Cady's gotten an in with the Plastics." You'd never liked that stupid nickname Janis insisted on using. "She's still on the fence about them, but it's only a matter of time before I'm proven right."

"You've infiltrated the popular girl group like 007, great, because Regina wronged you somehow in middle school? Grow up." You rolled your eyes and picked up your backpack.

"She outed me, you douche!" She exclaimed before probably even thinking about it. Realizing what she'd said, she glanced around warily. Nobody was nearby since you were away from the courtyard.

Okay. Well. That made this a lot more complicated. You pinched the bridge of your nose. This was the exact reason you hung around skaters and stoner-wannabes. At least their drama was about graffiti and who had the good kush, not about whatever the fuck this was. You weren't aware you were living in a teen drama.

"Okay." You breathed in deeply. You did not want to be involved, no matter how justified Janis could've been. However, you needed information if you wanted to get in the way. "What've you got?"

A mean grin nearly split her face. Then, in just a second, it melted away. "You won't tell anybody, right? About, uh, that earlier-"

"I sell drugs behind the school, dude." You put it flatly. "You have more flak on me."

"True." She conceded. "So..."

Their plans weren't very well constructed, to be fair. Janis wanted to prove to Cady that Regina was a bitch, her words, and that was sort of just a waiting game. In the meantime, they were collecting information. So far they'd found out about the Burn Book, supposedly a scrapbook that Regina and her friends had filled with mean things about everybody at Northshore. Staff and teachers included. Apparently, Cady hadn't had much time to peruse it, so neither Janis nor you were in it for all she knew.

The concept made you nervous. You could very well be in that book and Cady just hadn't seen it. If everybody was in it, including nobodies like Mary Stigson and Amber D'Alessio, the chance was incredibly high.

You didn't even know what she could've written about you. Over the years you'd shared incredibly vulnerable bits of information with her. She'd shared with you too, but you weren't in any position to weaponize her secrets. You'd been through embarrassing moments that just the two of you knew of, had seen each other cry and rage and experience all sorts of overwhelming emotions, had made it through mortifying tweenhood phases together.

Regina could've written your whole life story, the nastiest highlights at least, without breaking a sweat.

You were like a zombie for the rest of the day. Barely paying attention in class, twirling a pencil in your fingers listlessly as whatever teacher went on and on. You looked up when a sharp, female voice called your name. You apologized to Ms Norbury and pretended to start working.

Calculus class, huh? You looked around, trying to be inconspicuous. You met eyes with Cady Heron. She quickly turned back to her work, writing numbers furiously. So Janis had told her about their new accomplice. Of course, you had every intention to tattle first thing once you talked to Regina again.

You knew she wouldn't want to be seen leaving with you, so you shot her a text that you'd be behind the bleachers waiting. You were her ride, after all. It would've been rude to leave her.

Relaxing somewhere quiet and alone wasn't too bad. You lifted your headphones over your ears and put on a Nirvana CD. Just this morning Regina had called you 'a hobo with a liking for grunge', or something along those lines. You did so love proving her right.

You lit a cigarette in honour of Kurt and closed your eyes. Something about this day, the utterly exhausting events, made you desperate to feel some release. Ever since dropping Regina off, you'd been a fucking mess. Janis having seen the whole thing and then coming to conspire against Queen Bee hadn't helped. You wished things could be spelt out for you.

Did Regina like you? Yes or no. You knew it wasn't that simple, that things weren't simple for her like they were for you. You liked her and so it was easy to let her walk all over you. You liked her so, of course, you sided with her even when Janis and you had a camaraderie. You liked her and so you chose not to think about the horrible thing she'd done to Janis.

Was it only a matter of time before she'd use that secret against you, too? Did it hang above your head even now?

"Hey, loser, stub the cig and let's get outta here. I'm sick of this joint."

"Who taught you to talk like that?" You opened your eyes and looked up at Regina. "Certainly not your father."

"What daddy doesn't know won't hurt him." She offered her hand to pull you up. "C'mon. I have a nail appointment to get to."

You hauled yourself up with her help. Over-balancing a little bit you tipped into her space, and for a moment there you breathed the same air. You took a hasty step back and tuned back into the conversation.

"And- and how're you gonna get there?" You already knew.

"We don't have enough time to go to mine first, so..." She smiled sweetly at you, getting that calculating look in her eye as she grabbed your arm and pulled it close to her chest. Looking up at you through her lashes, long nails stroking down your forearm, a smile so alluring it was evil on her face, she knew she had you. You couldn't say no.

Gulping, you inclined your head. "I'll take you."

"Thanks, babe." And with that, she pressed her purse into your arms to carry and skipped ahead.

Fuck. Fuck. You closed your eyes and fought off a groan. You'd almost forgotten the crush you'd nursed for her back then. It hadn't ever left, you knew that much, but it hadn't smacked you in the face quite like this before. You were familiar with moments that made your heart beat fast, scenarios that played on a loop in your head, and dreams you could never really make sense of. Now, though, hearing her call you babe and the physical reaction it evoked, there was no plausible explanation other than the obvious fact: You had a crush on Regina George.

You knew—knew—that it was hopeless. There was no world in which you and Regina could be a thing. Or maybe there was, but that was a pipe dream you'd do no good in entertaining. Your dad didn't care about who you dated, but you were sure he would be none too pleased. Regina's dad was a whole other case. He was way stricter than your dad, though just as distant.

You'd done this before. It would be fine. Admittedly, back when you'd been actively crushing on Regina you had been twelve and under. Back then you'd still tolerated skirts and girly hairstyles. Back then it'd been socially acceptable to cling to your friend like a koala, kiss her cheeks and hold her hand. If you tried that shit now, especially looking like you did, it would not slide.

(You'd been called slurs around the halls before. While you didn't generate much rumours or hubbub, you knew that you existed in people's peripherals in a certain way. They'd snidely ask if you liked the Ellen Show. Make vile hand gestures at you when you passed by. Garry Fort, resident church boy and social outcast, had even offered to pray for you. You had refused.)

"Jorts! Get a move on!" Regina shouted, a good distance away.

"Yeah yeah," You muttered, but picked up the pace.

"What took you so long?" She asked as she settled into the front seat.

"Lost in thought, I guess." Waxing melancholy about how we could never be together, sweetums. You opted not to say that. "So, where's this appointment?"

"Just drive to town, I'll give instructions."

"Sure thing." You bit your lip and tapped your fingers on the steering wheel. You hadn't had your licence for long but you'd been driving for much longer than that. You were a good driver. Back when you'd been young enough for your dad to feel obligated to spend time with you, he'd taken you to some backroads and taught you. Then, when that stopped, you'd done it illegally. Hey, girls gotta keep busy somehow.

"What's on your mind?" Regina asked, breaking the silence that'd turned uncomfortable.

"Hmm? Oh, nothing." You swallowed. "How was your day?"

"How was my day, seriously?" She turned her body to face you, arms crossed and a displeased look on her face. "What is it?"

You tried to think of something to say. You didn't want to ruin her whole day by revealing she had a spy, of all things. You'd planned on waiting a little bit before telling her. You would've maybe taken her for a ride and then gently broken the news.

So, that was a bust.

"Cady Heron is spying on you. She's retelling everything you're doing together with Gretchen and Karen to Janis and her friend Damien Leigh." You blurted it all out. "I was smoking in my usual spot and she just came up to me. And, uh, recruited me. Apparently, she saw you leave my car this morning."

"What?" Regina screeched, face slack with shock as well as strained with fear, panic, and all sorts of jumbled emotions. "Did anybody else see?"

"I don't know!" Your shoulders lifted all the way up to your ears in a panicked shrug. Her emotions were rubbing off on you and you did not like it. "Did people act weird around you today?"

"No," She paused to think. "No, everything was fine. Karen liked my top."

"You mean my top?" You corrected.

"Whatever." Regina looked out of the window contemplatively. "Are you plotting against me?"

You rolled your eyes, and took your sights off the road for a second to shoot her a look. "If I was, would I be telling you?"

"I dunno, I vividly remember you being sorta stupid."

"Wow, thanks, Reg, that's high praise coming from you. Only sorta."

"Shut up. You're so annoying." She unfolded her arms and leaned back in the seat. "Cady Heron. A spy."

"Janis told me, and I quote: "She needs to go down." Which was pretty dramatic in my opinion." Regina didn't say anything. "I mean, we're in high school."

"What does that have to do with anything?" Regina inspected her nails. Pretty acrylics, sharp and lethal, decorated with gems and swirls. A little grown out, sure, but still in perfect condition.

"I just mean that..." You thought about what you wanted to say. "Y'know, on average women in America die, like, between seventy and eighty years old. We're less than a quarter of that right now. Five years from now, I bet the problems we have now will seem stupid and insignificant. And then five years, or ten, from that, the issues then will look the same way."

"Morbid." She turned to look at you. You couldn't tell what her expression was like, in the middle of changing lanes to pass a car going way under the limit. "Are you always this philosophical?"

"I could be. If you wanted me to be." You wondered if that edged a little too close to flirty.

"No. It's insufferable." You didn't know how to respond to that. "I don't fucking care about the grand scheme of things. My problems aren't stupid or insignificant now, so it's no fucking use thinking, oh, it'll all be fine with time! Well, it won't be, if I don't do something right now." She ranted, waving her hands as she did. "And I will argue that women die much earlier than that."

"It's a statistic, Reg-"

"No, women die at menopause at the latest. They get sad, saggy and undesirable and they die." She said with such conviction that it shook you. "When you stop being beautiful, it's all over."

"Regina, that's..." Wrong. Incorrect. A horrible way to think. "I don't think that's true."

"Women like my mom have nothing to offer. When dad stopped wanting her and started looking elsewhere, when she stopped being asked out at the grocery store and they started asking me, when Kylie poked at her flab and asked what her stretch marks were, she died."

Listening to her talk like that, about her mom nonetheless, was heartbreaking. Still, you couldn't help getting angry. "Your mom is alive and well, Reg. Your dad cheating isn't her fault, it's him being an awful human being. Being asked out at the grocery store isn't like receiving a fucking Nobel prize. Flab and stretch marks are what you did to her body. What Kylie did to her body." You bit your lip when it started wobbling. You bit down harshly to stop it.

You continued even when your voice crackled. "My mom's always gonna be young and beautiful. She's gonna always gonna have smooth, wrinkle-free skin. I won't get to ask about her flab or stretch marks. Not ever." Regina was quiet. You could feel her eyes on you. "You don't get to complain about growing old. Mrs George's been like a mom to me, you know that, so don't fucking insult her in front of me. You can get all the botox and surgeries you want, but I'm not gonna sit here and listen to that shit."

"Sorry." She said, quietly. She'd never been good at apologies.

"It's fine." You wiped at your eyes. "I'm sorry for freaking out."

"No, it's... That was stupid." She mostly muttered, now sunken into the seat.

You shouldn't have raved at her like that. Unpacking all that she said would've been much easier with a clear head. Now you were both stuck in this tension. Tears drying on your cheeks and snot in your nose, you wished things would be easier. You wished Regina had never been taught to think like she did, that she'd see herself like you saw her.

"I think you'll still be pretty when you're forty." You put it out there, going for casual.

"You don't have to lie." She huffed, assuredly rolling her eyes.

"I'm not lying. I don't think a few wrinkles are enough to ruin your face."

"I'm not gonna get wrinkles. By the time I'm old enough to get them, there's gonna be technology to prevent signs of ageing entirely."

You laughed at that. "Are you gonna pioneer that?"

"You think I'd be smart enough?"

"I think you're very intelligent, Regina."

"Hm." You could tell she was pleased, though she was looking away. "Take left here."

"Yes, ma'am."

Notes: I'm writing these abnormally fast. Usually, I'm a total sloth with these things. I guess the instant gratification of notes really is addicting. If I suddenly drop off, I promise I didn't die I just ran out of steam.

I have no idea how long this series will be. I have a general outline and character arcs going in my head, but I'm purposefully not drafting anything. I've noticed that when I plan too much I just feel like I've already written the story and don't wanna put any of the work in. So, with this method, though it has its flaws, I won't get bored of my own ideas!

Also, just to sort of put it out there in writing, they're meant to be flawed characters. OC might be self-aware to a point, but she too has her shortcomings. While Regina's more obviously flawed, neither of them are saints. They're teenagers with shitty home lives, they're gonna be fucked up. That also includes Janis and Cady. They're all dumb teenagers with unresolved issues.

Taglist: @autorasexy, @wedfan2, @unadulterated-moron, @modernsapphicism, @9unknown0, @sage-rose2000, @massive-honkas, @nattys-swiftie, @likefirenrain, @luz-enjoyer

#mean girls #mean girls 2004 #mean girls 2024 #regina george #regina george x reader #regina george x oc #regina george x you #regina george x ofc #mean girls x reader #reader insert #wlw #lesbian regina george #mean girls musical #janis imi'ike #janis ian #fic: yard work

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okwonyo · 2 months

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korean dramas, french love letters.

ᙏ̤̫ ⠀엔하이픈 [ 형선 ] ♡ female reader & fluff varying au annoyance2lovers childhood sweethearts2lovers meet cute coworkers2lovers + cw. not-proofread skinship pet-names mention of alcohol 1.1k ｜ ( bookshelf )

unfortunate love | heeseung

he’d be that very smart, sporty and nice guy; that is extremely popular— having a crush on him is evidence for all the girls on campus, well, except for you.

as half of the females at school, your friend wouldn’t be an exception to his effect, boring to tears with how ‘pretty and cool’ he is.

that is surely the reason why you wouldn’t stand him. it wouldn't be anything personal; girl friends are supposed to hate their friend’s crushes— that is real friendship and, really, funny.

he’d see the way you role your eyes whenever he waves at your friend, he’d thought it was jealousy; but, the fact you don't bat an eye when gives you his most charming smile, would make him change his mind instantly.

he’d make it his personal mission to make you like him, at all coasts— claiming that he loves the chase, not realizing he let himself fall in the process.

he’d make sure to be where you are, ‘baby’ and ‘pretty girl’ slipping off his mouth dangerously smoothly after greeting you, finding himself in a roller coaster despite his fear of heights just to ‘annoy you’ even if his hand is gripping yours.

due to his antics, you’d be obligated to be meaner and meaner to him by the minute; ignoring the thumb in your hear each time he calls you by a stupid nickname. it might be a stupid crush, but you can't do that to your friend.

“but i just cannot manage to make it through a day without thinking about you lately”

childhood sweethearts | jongseong

from the sandbox to highschool, you wouldn't be able to remember a single day where he hasn't been by your side; as a friend, as a confident and incredible listener.

as time passes by, you’d watch his passion for guitar growing up along side with his height. dragging you into his house to show you the new notes he learnt, he'd smile so widely whenever you’d tell him that he is doing great with the guitar you gifted him for his birthday.

after entering highshcool, he’d create a band with his friends— quickly, with a pretty face like this and these guitar skills; he’d become the cool guy that he was always destined to be.

he’d insist on you being at every at his concert, claiming that you are a ‘human lucky charm’ and that your presence it the crowd reassures him; “it eases my heart when you are there“

eyes wide and mouth agape, your fingers interlocking as your press your own palms together; you can't help but wonder who is he singing about.. who is the girl he loves so much that these beautiful words flow out of his mind ever so smoothly?

he’d become weirdly avoidant when you try to bring that up, inventing new subjects to talk about or acting as if he didn't hear anything of what you just said— it’d hurt you a tad.

the truth is; he tries to be calm about his love for you, but it's all so passionate. he values your friendship a lot and cannot think of any other way to convey his feelings.

“when she laughs, the heaven hum a stun gun lullaby”

quiet summer love | jaeyun

in the depth of the summer’s light, the cold air of the library you just entered relaxes your whole body. warmth comes find you again, but this time; through a stranger fingers touching yours.

he’d be that quiet meet cute at the library you like, with his cute glasses on and a rose tint growing at the contact. awkwardly apologizing, he’d tell you to take the book if you really want to.

ever since then, your encounters at library, at the convenience store or everywhere, given how small you city may be, would be all awkward but comforting at the same time.

asking about what book he’d have in his end at the moment and noticing that it was the book you were looking for; you’d end up exchanging numbers, so when he finishes he can tell you— quickly enough, so you can have it before any one else does.

softly, your relationship will form into a timid friendship; night walks and chatting at the library.. some awkward interactions like you falling on him or accidentally hitting him as you get scared if a sudden bug.

nonetheless, his presence by your side would bring you unexplainable comfort during warm summer nights, his face without his glasses added to his hair wet due to the sea’s salty water makes your knees weak and the way he stumbles over his words when he looks into your eyes would never fail to make you giggle.

as the book-freak he is, he’d try to be poetic in the way he feels for you— but it’d be all so intense that he wouldn't be apt to string words together in any ways that makes sense.

“the day after you stole my heart, everything i touched told me it would be better shared with you.”

business feels | sunghoon

black hair, glasses accentuating the fire in his eyes that contrast with his personality’s coldness and cravat that would look better untied; he’d be the allegory of the cold boss.

eyes lingering on you during an ‘after work’ work drink, where you insisted on him coming, as you get dangerously more and more drunk; he’d find himself worried for you and take you home.

after that night, where you told him how nice you thought he really was and that you appreciated him a lot, you’d be on his mind constantly— especially since he had a soft spot for you for a long time now. thinking that you are absurdly pretty, sweet and around his age, which is his perfect type.

your coworkers would find him talking to you more often, it's a surprise; he doesn't talk to anyone at work usually. asking you about your day and what are you planning on the week-end, still formally and without trying to be too much indiscreet.

one night, seeing that you are still working when it's time for him to leave, he’d insist on you going to get some rest at home and even drive you to your appartement.

the next day, he’d come at work without his glasses and with pastry after you told him that you liked the way he looked without them when he took of his glasses to clean them and you explained that you wanted to try out that bakery next to work one day.

you’d end up feeling more than appreciation for your boss, noticing his flush he tries to hide with his hand whenever your shoulder brush against him.. so, so doomed.

“i know i’m not your type; because i don’t shun daylight. but, i’m willing to start”

@okwons @byhees . . . 谢谢你的帮助，这对我来说很重要！♡ 希望你享受其中 ^0^

nets @k-films @kflixnet @/k-labels taglist open! @manooffline @ibsysbsfsunsbs @oldjws @lilriswife4life @alaezasmystery235 @teddywonss @tyussday @cholexc @flickqr @yuviqik @wvnrqs @strawberrywonz @y-ves @isawritesss @filmofhybe @ikeucakes @gweoriz @yunabi436 @ashtxrie @soul-is-a-strange-kid @jaelaxies @jwonsluvr @lynniebearrr-blog @bobabunhee @sunghoonsarmpit @ynsvnte @wonifullove @luvieden @shalkeren @thesunoosshining @smouches @okwons @sulkygyu @the-swageyama-tobiyolo @byhees @jwnghyuns @sleepyxxhead @baevsxii

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leothil · 4 months

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About deco my tree

If you, like me, used the decomytree-site to receive and send messages lately, you've probably also seen the post warning that the site might have nefarious intentions. This is likely correct. When I went to look at my messages today, it told me "Currently, only the app can open messages due to high usage." That is clearly complete bullshit. It's probably self-evident, but DO NOT DOWNLOAD THE APP. This is base level scam stuff: trick people into getting excited about a service, then lock it to only one platform where the user will have to give up some information in order to get what they want.

(Obviously, I can't say with 100% certainty that something sus is afoot, but my warning bells are ringing very loudly. I am leaning towards this being more of an attempt to lure money out of people than an information stealing attempt, but you can never know.)

I took a look at what the app requirements are:

This ain't great for something that allegedly only is for leaving cute messages for other people. I'm looking specifically at the "Data isn't encrypted" part. If you've taken a look at your tree today, you've probably noticed that ads for an AI app have appeared here and there in the UI; this is by the same company behind deco my tree.

Now. If you still want to see your messages, there is the option of running the app in a virtual environment that isolates it from the rest of the device, and thus from the data on it. I think iOS and Android both might have native sandbox environments, but I'm not familiar with them. What I did was download an android emulator to my computer and installed the app there. It's completely separated from the rest of my OS and will cease to exist when I nuke the session after reading and saving all my messages.

The emulator I used is called Bluestacks. It has ads and will take up ca 5GB of space, but it's a reputable emulator, and I've used it before to play android games on my desktop. Once you're in there, you can navigate to your tree in the already existing Chrome browser on the desktop (or home screen, I suppose), and find the link to their help center, where they have a download link for the apk file without needing to go through the Play Store (which you'd have to log in to using a google account). Also a bit suspicious, but handy in this case. I've also included the links above for you to use. Once you've downloaded the .apk the app will open and you'll be able to log in and see your messages.

Side note - if you used a generic password that you use in several other places for this tree, I highly recommend changing it in all other places, especially if you usually combine it with the same email you used for decomytree.

Another fun thing I noticed is that the app refuses to load the earliest three messages on my tree, for whatever reason. But when I navigate back to the website (inside the emulator), it now opens the messages just fine since it can tell I have the app installed. 🙃 The app also continuously displays ads for the same AI app mentioned above, trying to trick you into clicking on them when you're swiping through your messages. It also does this fun thing:

Yeah. Bypassable, but highly irritating, and guaranteed to catch at least some poor people that don't know what to click on to make it go away.

TL;DR: don't download the app directly to your phone, use a sandbox to isolate it to see your messages, and then ask it to delete your account (and hope that it works, because so far the so-called verification code has failed to appear in my inbox). And change your password if you've used the same one elsewhere on the internet.

#deco my tree #decomytree #PSA

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xjustakay · 3 months

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✺ (1/22) ✺ @jegulus-microfic prompt: cry — 1130 words (jegulus dads ft. harry; getting in trouble at school - but he’s got a real good reason, your honor)

Regulus hangs up his phone with a huff, pushing up from his desk chair to head up the hall to the living room. “James?”

“Yes, my love?” James calls back. He turns from folding laundry into piles on the sofa and frowns when he clocks the tension in Regulus’ face. “What could I have possibly done?”

“It’s not you, it’s your son,” Regulus mutters.

“My son?” James’ brows shoot upward.

“He’s your son when he gets into trouble.”

“I resent that.”

“Resemble it, more like.” Regulus rolls his eyes. “I just got off the phone with Pandora. She got a call from Harry’s school about him being in principal McGonagall’s office because of an altercation with another student.”

James blinks. “They’re five, what does that even look like?”

“Well, we’ll be finding out shortly, because we have to go pick him up. Lily’s got their car and she’s at work.” Regulus shakes his head as he goes to retrieve his coat from the peg inside the front door.

“Hey, hang on.” James grabs him gently by the elbow to get him to look at him. “I’m sure it’s not a big deal.”

“He’s in the principal’s office at five years old, James.”

“That happened a time or a few when I was—” James cuts himself off when one dark eyebrow is arched at him pointedly. “Right, not helping my case. Look, it’s Harry. It’s probably just a big misunderstanding.”

James lifts both hands to grab Regulus by the jaw, towing him in to kiss his forehead a couple quick times. The corner of Regulus’ mouth ticks upward despite himself.

As it turns out, it’s not a misunderstanding.

Instead of looking guilty, Harry looks instantly defiant, arms crossed tight over his chest and chin tilted upward, when Regulus and James join him in the principal’s office.

“Have a seat.” Minerva McGonagall motions across her desk to the open chairs on either side of their son. “Harry, would you care to explain to your fathers why we’re here?”

Harry’s brow furrows as he lets out a huff. “I tackled someone in the sandbox.”

Regulus tilts his head. “Pardon?”

James cuts him a vaguely admonishing look before his focus returns to the child between them, expression softening. “What happened, mate?”

“He made Luna cry, daddy!” Harry whines. “He kept on pulling her hair and calling her Loony.”

Regulus whips toward McGonagall, glaring icily. “And where’s that boy?”

“He’s also been spoken to and picked up by his parents, mister Potter,” She tells him.

“That’s not all, either!” Harry interjects with a dramatic flail of his arms. “I went and told him he was being mean and to say sorry, but he said he was sorry to me ‘cause I have a weird family.”

“Alright, that’s not—” James’ mounting irritation gets cut off when McGonagall lifts a hand to halt him.

“Then he said his mum and dad are talking all the time about how papa’s gonna leave us all someday, and I got really mad so I tackled him and hit him.”

Oh.

Oh, that’s…

Regulus stares at Harry for a long moment, an unexpected pang in his chest. He didn’t know what to expect coming down to the school, hearing Harry’s story of what had occurred. He certainly had not assumed it had anything to do with him.

Harry is so like James, standing up for those he loves with everything he’s got. Even if it gets him into trouble.

Opening and closing his mouth twice, Regulus catches James’ eye. A small smile curls at his husband’s mouth, an odd cocktail of pride and sadness mixed in his hazel eyes. Regulus suddenly knows the feeling, complex as it is.

“I understand you were upset and looking out for your family, but you know you’re not supposed to hit people, mate,” James tells Harry.

“I know…” Harry mumbles, ducking his chin.

“If someone’s being mean, you tell a teacher, alright?”

“Yes, daddy…”

Regulus, lip pinched between his teeth, looks across the desk to find McGonagall’s eyes already on him. A strangely sympathetic look is offered to him from the older woman, but he ignores the twist it causes in his stomach.

Asks instead, “Is Luna alright?”

“I’ve spoken with her, as well, yes. Despite the issue, she said she’d like to finish her day as she usually does,” She confirms.

“Right, well, we’ll get this one home, then.” James claps his hands on his knees then pushes to stand. “So sorry, principal McGonagall.”

“Yeah, me too, sorry, principal McGonagall,” Harry mutters.

Harry shuffles off his chair to follow James on the way out of the office, Regulus grabbing his Spiderman backpack for him. He’s last to the door, which means the ‘mister Potter’ that’s called after them can only be for him. He turns with dark brows lifted, tries not to look too confused when McGonagall’s mouth twitches upward just barely.

“That’s quite the little boy you’ve got standing up for you, there,” She says.

Regulus glances back the other direction at where James and Harry are walking to the school’s main door hand in hand. His own small smile appears, throat tightening before he quietly clears it.

“Yeah, he’s really something,” He murmurs, turning back to the woman. “We’ll work on the hitting bit.”

“That’s good, yes,” She snorts, waving him off.

Regulus catches up to his family, falling into step on Harry’s other side. He makes it a point to ensure that he’s the one who helps Harry into the back of the car when they reach it. Keeps an eye on him pulling his seatbelt across himself on his booster while James settles in the driver’s seat, watching them in the rear view mirror.

Mind still reeling a bit with the turn of events, he can’t help but feel like he’s meant to say something.

“Harry, my darling, you—” Regulus twists his lips to the side as he runs a hand over Harry’s messy hair affectionately. “You know that I’m not really going anywhere, don’t you?”

“Of course, papa.” Harry nods surely. “I know you love us all too much.”

Regulus smiles faintly, nodding in return. “That’s my boy.”

He leans in to leave a kiss against the side of Harry’s head, double checks his seatbelt is secured appropriately, then closes the car door. When he drops into the passenger seat, he finds James looking over at him adoringly, a bright smile on his face. Wordlessly, he leans over the center console to press a lingering kiss to Regulus’ lips.

“Does this mean I can still have dessert after dinner tonight?” Harry asks from the back.

There’s a shared laugh between Regulus and James, two wide smiles pressed together now, before they finally separate to get on their way home.

#jegulus #starchaser #sunseeker #jegulus microfic #jegulus dads and little harry feels strike again #they’re a little family :(#there’s so much love :(#harry is the sweetest bean :(#i’m fine feeling very normal about them obviously #(sobbing into a pillow as we speak)#jeggy dads series #kay’s writing #kay’s microfics

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