Also From Microsoft’s own FAQ: "Note that Recall does not perform content moderation. It will not hide information such as passwords or financial account numbers. 🤡
Because this has mostly been talked about with Windows 11, heads-up that this installed itself on every Windows 10 computer in our house with this week's update.
If you havent turned off your "built in spyware" and "computer file search bar doesnt search the computer files first" 'features', now is the time to do so. It really is just a couple clicks even for people who don't really get how it works.
Characters: Vasily Pavlichenko, Ida Morgan (OC)
Ship: None
Rating: All Ages
Themes: post-canon, fluff, speech impediment (briefly)
Warnings: Pregnancy
Summary: Ida is pregnant, and Shiraishi, who made it happen, is not there to take care of her. So, her friends step in.
Ida belongs to @piiloh-case
(Dni pr.oship + A.I users please)
With a sigh that bordered on a groan, Ida reclined in her floor chair. Her legs were stretched out under the kotatsu, the futon tucked in around them. Vasily draped a woollen blanket around her shoulders and knelt down to tuck that in under her thighs as well.
“Oof—” Ida breathed out, pressing a hand to her stomach. It was sizeable by now, and she joked that by the time it was done, whatever baby was growing in there would be twice the size of her and Shiraishi combined. “He’s kicking again. Been doing that all week. Don’t know what he’s trying to tell me. Or she. It. Who knows.”
Vasily huffed as he reached across her to tuck in the blanket on the other side. When he drew back, Ida intercepted his hand.
“You want to feel it?” she asked. He didn’t reply, but didn’t pull away either, so Ida guided his hand to her stomach and laid it where she had felt the most recent activity. “Hello, little baby,” she cooed. “This is your uncle Vasily. He’s been taking good care of me while your useless daddy’s been in prison, yes!”
“Don’ shay tha—” Vasily’s words broke off when the baby gave a kick.
Ida looked up at him and discovered him completely still. His eyes, widened, stared at her stomach, and after a few seconds, Ida realised he wasn’t even breathing.
“You won’t scare him-her-it away, you know? Take a breath every once in a while.”
With a blink, Vasily stirred from his focus, and an audible breath filled his lungs.
“It’s a strange feeling, isn’t it?” Ida asked, stifling a grin. Vasily nodded. “Now imagine it again but inside you.”
Whether he was imagining it or not, Ida did not know, but he did raise his other hand and lay it on her stomach as well when another kick came.
Ida smiled, lulled in by the warmth surrounding her. She gave the hand she had guided a few gentle pats. “You’ll be a great uncle,” she said. “And this baby is going to love you, I just know it.”
Characters: Vasily Pavlichenko, Ida Morgan (OC), Tomoko & Yuichi (OC), Dimitri Romanov (OC)
Ship: Background Vasily x Mitya (OC)
Rating: All Ages
Themes: post-canon, babysitting, artist Vasily, speech impediment
Warnings: Breastfeeding (brief and undescribed)
Summary: Once again, Shiraishi has landed himself in prison, and Ida is left to run her photography studio, take care of the household, as well as her twins. To finally catch up on housework, she calls on Vasily to babysit.
Ida belongs to @piiloh-case. Mitya belongs to @ogata-apologist
(Dni proship + AI users please)
Full fic under the cut:
When Ida saw Vasily, her arms went slack at her sides and she gave a relieved sigh before hugging him.
“Thank you for coming,” she said and scooped Tomoko off the living room floor. The girl stuck a finger in her mouth and stared up at the visitor blankly. “My useless husband has decided he needs to run off on some money-making scheme he’s come up with precisely when it’s his turn with the housework.”
“Mh. The boy shaid,” Vasily mumbled.
“He didn’t ask you for money, did he? I already paid him, but those courier boys have a way.”
“I ga’e him shome coinsh.”
Ida let out an exasperated sound. “Ugh, I’m sorry, Vasily, I couldn’t get out of the house, I’ve got no time with these devils.”
Ida pointed over her shoulder at the little boy who was strapped to her back. He was sleeping through all of Ida’s flailing.
“Wha’ do you wan’ me ‘o do?”
“Just... keep an eye on her. I can carry Yuichi, but Tomoko hates the sling and she’s determined to either pull apart the whole house or fling herself to her death.”
As if to demonstrate, Tomoko began writhing in her mother’s arms, and with yet another groan, Ida handed her over to Vasily, where the girl suddenly stilled and grew quiet, staring at him again.
“What’s wrong, Toko-tan?” Ida asked. “You know uncle Vasily.”
“Mmmmmh,” the girl hummed and reached out her little hand. It wrapped around the strands of hair that fell around Vasily’s neck, and tugged on them. “Baba.”
“’M no’ youh baba,” Vasily said and lifted the baby up over his head, where she hovered and giggled. “He doeshn’ have any hai’.”
Ida snorted. “Don’t worry, that’s all she says right now. Bababababa, nothing else.”
Sighing, she looked around the room and picked up some clothes and toys strewn all over and around the kotatsu. “I hope I’m not keeping you away from your next masterpiece?”
Vasily shook his head when she peeked at him over her shoulder.
“Alright, there,” Ida said as she stood up, a ball of clothes in her hands. “You can sit here if you want. Did you bring your art supplies?”
Vasily nodded and sat down with Tomoko in his lap. He opened up the satchel he had with him and pulled out a sketchbook and a set of coloured pencils.
“I hope those aren’t your fancy ones,” Ida said. They were not. “She loves drawing with you, but you need to stop letting her scribble all over your art. She’ll get delusions of grandeur.”
Vasily let out a huff, shaking his head. Ida smiled and gathered up her hoard under one arm so she could pat Vasily’s shoulder. “Thank you again.”
Ida’s shuffling grew distant as she moved on to other rooms, and Vasily’s attention shifted to Tomoko, who grabbed at his pencils. She picked a green one, and when Vasily opened his sketchbook to an empty page, she began filling it with lines. Vasily picked up an orange pencil and sketched a few leaves in the corner.
“Ah!” Tomoko slapped her hand down on the leaves and balled a fist, crumpling up the paper in an attempt at pulling it closer. “Eef...”
“Mhm,” Vasily hummed.
Tomoko waved her arms up and down, and the sketchbook followed their path, still in her grip. The corner of the page she was holding came off with a rip, and as the sketchbook thudded back onto the table, Tomoko inspected the sliver of paper in her hand. And then, as babies were wont to do, she pushed it into her mouth.
“Ah-ah-ah—” Vasily fished the paper out of her mouth and placed it out of reach.
“Nnghh,” Tomoko whined, pointing at the paper. “Eef. Eef. Nh…”
A crying fit was on the horizon, and Vasily wrapped his arms around Tomoko and ever so lightly rested his chin on her head. He’d found she enjoyed the scratchiness of his beard, as well as being swaddled in a person’s embrace. Quietly, he began humming a Russian nursery rhyme. He assumed his mother had sung it for him when he was a baby, but he only really remembered it from his younger siblings’ childhoods, especially his baby brother Ivan. Tomoko’s hair pulling reminded him of Ivan, and he tried not to compare them too much.
“Bababa,” Tomoko babbled. She leaned back against Vasily. Her hair fell into her face as she did, and when Vasily went to brush it away, she caught his hand and brought it to her mouth, where she began chewing on his finger, quite possibly as revenge for being denied the delicacy of paper leaves.
“Ahrigh’,” Vasily sighed. “Ish tha’ tashty?”
The twins had been late to start teething, but now that they had, nothing was safe from their jaws.
Vasily wasn’t well versed in drawing with his left hand, but since the page was already ripped, crumpled, and covered in scribbles, he figured it didn’t matter. Idly, he drew flowers on the abstract green background Tomoko had laid down, and as the page filled up, he found he actually quite enjoyed the look of it. His own shaky sketches went well with the wild abandon of a child’s linework.
“We ma’e a goo’ team,” Vasily said.
“Ah!” Tomoko exclaimed and released Vasily’s finger in favour of pointing at the sketchbook.
Vasily wiped his finger and brought the book closer. Slowly, he turned the pages, making sure to flick them in a way that produced a sound Tomoko could never help but giggle at. It was a sketchbook Vasily mostly kept to draw in with the children, and he often looked at the first page of it, a mess of charcoal they had just about been able to grasp and swing across the page when they’d been just a few months old.
Every once in a while, when nothing else was at hand, though, Vasily used it for his own sketches. Only a couple pages back, he flipped to a light pencil sketch of Mitya. A portrait, almost in full front view, with just the slightest angle to his nose and brow line. Vasily could have stared at the man for hours, but whenever he drew him, he felt the result was never quite satisfying. Like there was some quality to his Mitya he couldn’t ever capture just right.
But it appeared satisfying enough to Tomoko, because when she laid eyes on the drawing, she cooed and slapped her hands down on it.
“Baba!” she announced. “Baba!”
Vasily chuckled. “Sho closhe,” he said. “Tha’sh youh Oji-shan.”
“Bababa.”
“Can you shay tha’? O-ji-shan.”
“O’i!”
“Closhe enough, me ‘oo.”
Vasily enjoyed talking to the twins, though sometimes he worried if he did it too much, they would inherit his speech impediment. But his jaw was starting to hurt now, anyway, so he was quite content to return to drawing in relative silence.
He gathered up the pencils that had scattered across the table and presented them to Tomoko. She hovered her finger over them for a while, considering her options, and then went for green again. And as soon as she’d picked it, she slammed it down on the page, so much so that a bit of the sharpened tip broke off. So began her reimagining of Mitya’s appearance.
For a while, Vasily was content just watching Tomoko draw. His cheeks began to ache from smiling. And then—
“VasYA!” shouted Ida from the other room. Followed by her outcry came another, different voice. “Ohh, love, I’m sorry—”
Vasily had flinched at Ida’s shouting, and when she appeared in the doorway holding Yuichi, both he and Tomoko stared at her wide-eyed.
“What kind of Englishwoman even am I, I didn’t even offer you tea!”
Vasily opened his mouth to reply, but found he had no words befitting the situation.
“I’ll put the kettle on right away,” Ida huffed as she rocked her crying son in her arms, “I just need to get Yuichi to— actually, I hate to ask, but could you take him for a moment? My back is killing me.”
Nodding, Vasily reached out and took Yuichi from her. The boy’s wailing stung his ears, but nonetheless he hugged him to his chest and stroked his back.
“Shh, shh,” he said and pressed kisses to Yuichi’s cropped hair.
Tomoko braced herself against the table and stood up in Vasily’s lap so she could see her brother’s red face. Carefully, she petted his head, but the gesture did little to soothe him.
When it became clear that affection would not cure Yuichi’s frustration at being woken from his nap, Vasily carefully extracted Tomoko from his lap and set her down next to him before standing from the table. He raised Yuichi up in his arms and spun in a circle, then brought him close again and lowered him into a lying position, his back braced by Vasily’s hand as they continued to spin. Soon, the crying changed in pitch and morphed into laughter instead.
“Baba!” Tomoko called, reaching her hands up. Vasily could stop just in time before Tomoko collided with him, and squatted down to meet her. He remained for a few moments to let a bout of dizziness pass before grabbing both children, one arm each under their armpits. When he rose back up and resumed spinning, their legs swung wildly as they clung to his arms.
“They love when you do that,” Ida said upon entering the room with a tray.
Vasily slowly came to a halt and set the twins down. They toddled a few steps before sitting down with a dizzy thud. Vasily, too, sat down rather inelegantly.
“Here,” Ida said, setting an earthenware cup of green tea before Vasily. Smoothing out her kimono, she sat down around the corner of the table. “Catered to your inferior tastes in tea.”
Vasily huffed and threw her a look that drew a grin on her face.
“And try these senbei. Yoshi brought them back from Hakodate after one of his stints.” A bowl was placed on the table, and Ida plucked one of the senbei from it, breaking the thin cracker in half and handing one each to the twins. They had gathered around her and now climbed into her lap.
The tea was, even though Ida maintained her opinion to the contrary, delicious, and the senbei were light, with a slight salty taste courtesy of the flakes of dried seaweed speckling them.
“They like to nibble on things, but they don’t really actually eat much of them,” Ida mused, watching Tomoko lean across the table for Vasily’s sketchbook. The senbei was pinched between her lips, but soon forgotten about and fell onto the table.
“Ah! Oh, you let her do it again,” Ida said as she caught a glimpse of the page Tomoko pushed towards her. “Mhh, I mean, that’s lovely, honey. But maybe next time you could draw on a new page, hm? Look what you’ve done to poor uncle Mitya.”
“I thin’ I’ shuits him,” Vasily said.
“A green moustache?”
“Mhm. An’ g’een hai’.”
“Mpf,” Tomoko huffed. Abandoning her mother’s side, she climbed over Vasily’s knee and tumbled back into his lap. He scooped her up, turned her over and held her in his arms the way one would a newborn.
Ida pulled up a large pillow she had often used to make herself comfortable during pregnancy, and leaned back onto it, half lying down, half sat up. “I’ve got some more things to do. Can you watch them for a little longer?”
“Mhm.”
“And then you’ll stay for dinner.”
Vasily chuckled. “Mhm.”
He brushed Tomoko’s cheek in a teasing motion when she wiggled in his arms, but instead of making her giggle, her face contorted and she started crying.
“Mh, I’ve upshe’ her,” Vasily mumbled.
“Ah, no, she’s just hungry. She’s always hungry around this time, and she barely ate any of that senbei. Give her here.” Ida groaned as she sat back up.
Vasily did as he was told, lifting her up and over Yuichi, who watched his sister’s course with a mouth full of senbei and cheeks caked in crumbs. Once Tomoko was handed over, Vasily pulled his sleeve over his hand and wiped the crumbs away.
“You don’t mind if I feed her here, do you?”
Vasily shook his head. “It’sh youh houshe. Shoul’ I leave?”
“No, it’s fine,” Ida said as she shrugged her kimono off one shoulder to expose one breast. Swiftly, Tomoko turned quiet as the solution to her problem was presented, and made a sound of contentment as she found her mother’s nipple.
Vasily pulled his sketchbook back towards himself and examined the drawing of Mitya Tomoko had so graciously improved. He knew green suited Mitya, though perhaps not a shade as vibrant as this.
“You’re not attracted to women at all?”
“Hm? No.”
“Not even a little bit? I was sure everyone’s at least a little curious in both directions.”
“No’ me.”
“I’ll try not to take it personally,” Ida said with a chuckle. “Though it is nice to be left in peace while I feed the little ones. I do love Shiraishi, and of course I want him to desire me, but sometimes he pulls a face like he’d rather be the one attached to my tit instead of the babies.”
When Vasily didn’t reply, Ida glanced at him – and promptly broke out laughing. “Pahaha, that’s certainly also a face!” she said, and Vasily quickly reined in his expression.
Sighing and with a grin, Ida flopped back onto her pillow with Tomoko still attached to her. Seeing the barrier of entry lowered, Yuichi took his chance and reached up to the neckline of Ida’s kimono, attempting to pull the other side down as well.
“Ugh, please, one at a time!” Ida groaned. “You’re almost as bad as your good-for-nothing father!”
Deciding to intervene, Vasily reached across and plucked the boy up. He stood from the table and lifted Yuichi along to give Ida some space.
“Thanks,” Ida sighed and adjusted her kimono, which had come loose from Yuichi’s pulling.
With a now again crying Yuichi in his arms, Vasily ambled around the house with a spring in his step he hoped would calm Yuichi. He made his way through the hallway into the kitchen, pointing out various jars and bottles of preserves, sauces, and pickles to Yuichi. Soon, the delayed feeding was forgotten, and Yuichi reached out to take the potato Vasily showed him – from his own garden, the harvest they’d had just last week. Even though it was a small one, Yuichi’s hand was barely big enough to hold it, and when he turned it, it slipped out of his grasp. Vasily caught it just in time and returned it to the bag it resided in.
Then, a knock sounded faintly at the door, and Vasily made his way back into the hallway, where the sight of Mitya made his heart soar. Mitya closed the door behind him and stepped out of his shoes and the genkan.
“I saw your note,” Mitya said and pecked Vasily’s lips when they met. “You look good with a baby in your arms.”
“Ohh, watch out, Vasya, he’s got baby fever,” came Ida’s nearing voice. Vasily averted his eyes. “Ah—no, I’m sorry, that was stupid, forget I sai—”
“Oh, dear Lord!” Mitya yelped when Ida came within sight. Quickly, he spun on his heel. “You’re indecent!”
Ida snorted and clapped Vasily on the shoulder. “A bit of a prude you’ve got there, hm?”
“He ge’sh fluste’ed”
“If you would please not talk about me as if I were not here,” Mitya said. “Ida, are you dressed?”
“No, I am not,” Ida said decisively. “But you may turn around anyway.”
Hesitantly, Mitya did so, but carefully avoided looking Ida’s way.
“How can you be a doctor and still so afraid of seeing breasts? Hell, you helped me birth these babies!”
“I am not afraid, don’t be ridiculous! And this is hardly a medical situation, I feel like I am violating your privacy.”
“Pish posh.” Ida rounded both of them and ushered them away from the entrance. “Go sit, I’ll bring another cup and get started on dinner.”
When she passed Mitya, the distinct clinking of coins changed hands, and Mitya instinctively looked up at her, ready to protest, but then quickly swivelled his gaze elsewhere.
“Wha’sh tha’?” Vasily asked, prying Mitya’s hand open. When he turned to give the coins back, their owner had already disappeared. “Ida!”
“I win this time, Vasya!” Ida’s hand waved from the kitchen, and her laugh could be heard. “You’ll not go unpaid!”
#speakingmytruth I cannot relate to the hatred of the big lamp. I love the big lamp. I turn on the big lamp and everything is bright and clear. I can see so well…. Big lamp truther for life 🙂↕️
I'm not seeing any naked adults in that screenshot...
...There's something deeply messed up about how breasts, which are used by our species to feed babies, are considered to be so perverse and obscene that a child should never see them.
There aren't any naked people in the entire video clip. There's some people that you'd probably see less of their skin on a beach, but only because on a beach they'd probably be wearing a bikini top as well as whatever else they have on. And this is New York City, where toplessness is legal regardless of gender or assigned sex.
Toplessness for breasts is legal in most places in the US, unlegislated in almost all that remain, and only illegal in two states: Ohio and Tennessee.
This is because topless equality has been a basic push from feminists for literally decades, until Radfems and NeoCons bonded over wanting a trans genocide less than a decade ago.
It's literally why the "no tits on tumblr" and other lesser SESTA/FOSTA consequences* like it were so jarring. It set back FORTY. YEARS. OF PROGRESS in the rights of people with breasts or perceived as women to wear the same clothes as people without.
Do not let conservatives lie to you about this. The majority of people in the us and the VAST majority of States recognize the right of people to not wear a damn shirt. It isn't obscenity, it isn't even nudity, it's just something pericis men are allowed that everyone else isn't.
Y'know.
Basic sexual discrimination.
*Y'all aren't still on that "it was the Apple app store that caused the tit ban" shit, right? It was the literal US federal government. To be fucking clear.
hey man. nice regional dialect. mind if i apply some baseless assumptions about your personhood to it? i was also gonna prescribe morality to it as well. if that’s cool with you
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