#(my computer was lagging sm)

[yuriyuruandyuraart]

Hey, Yuri, pspspspspspspspspsps

((The top text says "When Cross isn't there:))

i just had to draw the 'when killer isn't there' version and all the pining that goes with it because waghghg THEM they the girls the women ever<3333

[rubysparx]

I will do anything for one single fan of the stuff I make self indulgently o7 you know who you are if ur a real one you’re seeing this now, it’s on the way for you girl, posting soon o777

[sturniozo]

You should do a first time with Matt or Chris (either way idc).Love your writing sm who better to ask than you.

You sent this in twice, once anon and once not and I wasn’t sure if you wanted to stay anon or not so I chose to answer with the anon just in case pooks! But thank you so much I love you 🥹🥹🥹🥹

Masterlist

First /Matt S. X Reader\

I’ve been best friends with the triplets since… forever. I don’t remember a time when we weren’t always hanging out together. But over the last year, I’ve started seeing Matt differently.

Watching him as he plays Fortnite on his computer while I sit on his bed, I can’t help but feel it again. He just looks so good sitting at his desk and playing that game.

Even though I’m a virgin I still think about Matt that way often. I hate that I do, since he’s my best friend, but I can’t help myself. I just see Matt so differently lately.

Matt sighs and takes off his headset, tossing it on his desk.

“Did you lose?” I ask and get up from his bed.

“It’s the fucking games fault, it’s lagging like crazy.” Matt vents and rubs his temple. He turns to me and smiles softly. “Wanna just watch Netflix or something?” He asks and I nod.

Matt gets onto his bed with me and pulls me down close to him. He holds me by my waist and rubs his thumb over my hip as he looks through the movie selection on Netflix.

“Any suggestions?” He mumbles softly to me as he scrolls through Netflix.

“That looks good.” I point to a movie I’ve never seen before.

“Okay.” He says and click on the movie. He situates himself to lay down fully on the bed and I lay my head on his chest.

Halfway through the movie a spicy scene comes on that neither of us thought would happen at that moment. Matt shifts in the bed and I move around to get comfortable next to him. I can’t help but imaging what it would be like it that were me and Matt though.

After the movie ends Matt shuts it off and sits up. “I think I might just lay here and go to sleep, yeah?” He says to me and shuts the light off. I curl up next to him and he wraps an arm around my shoulders. “That movie was fucking wack though.”

I laugh and nod. “Yeah it was.”

“That sex scene was so unrealistic too, did you see that?” Matt laughs and I stay silent. “What’s wrong?” He asks as he sits up and looks at me.

“Nothing… I just wouldn’t know.”

“Wouldn’t know what?” He runs his fingers through my hair.

“Whether or not the sex scene was unrealistic or not…”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“So you’re… you’ve never…”

I shake my head and bite my lip. “I’ve never had sex, no.”

“Have you done anything? Like…”

“No, nothing…” I look down, embarrassed.

“Don’t be shy, it’s okay.” Matt rubs my back. “I just didn’t expect that at all.”

I shrug.

“Do you ever want to?” He asks and I blush deeply.

“I- I don’t know…”

Matt moves his hand to rub my thigh lightly. “You sure?”

I look up at Matt with wide eyes and he crashes his lips to mine. His hand travels up to my jaw to hold my face in place as we kiss. He pulls away and breaths. “I’ve been wanting to do that forever.” He murmurs and smiles softly at me. Blush covers my face.

“You have?” I ask and he nods.

“Have you?” He asks and I nod. Matt smiles and presses his lips to mine, more gently this time. He pulls away and asks “So do you want to?”

“Want to what?”

“Have sex.” Matt says and my breath hitches. Blush creeps over my cheeks and I hesitantly nod. “It’s okay if you don’t want to.” He adds as he rubs my back gently. “I just thought if you did, I could show you how. Be your first.”

“Be my first?”

“Yeah, don’t you want that?” He asks and kisses my jaw gently. I gasp softly and he pulls away. “So do you want to? You don’t have to say yes.”

“I want to.”

Matt smiles and kisses me once more as his hands find his way to my hips. He grips my hips tightly and pulls me to him. He lays me down on the bed and begins kissing softly down my neck. His hands trail under my shirt and cup my breasts.

Matt lifts his head up and presses another quick kiss to my lips before pulling my shirt over my head, his following mine being discarded to the floor. Matt kisses me again and then pre reds to plant soft kisses down my body and to my hips. He slowly slides down my shorts and kisses the fabric of my panties as his eyes stare into mine. He rubs soft circles over the fabric on my clit as he moves back over my body and kisses me softly.

His thumb rubs over my clit slowly as his tongue enters my mouth. The sensation from both movements, plus his free hand moving to play with my boob, causes me to moan out loudly into the kiss. Matt pulls away and shushes me quietly.

“Shhh baby, Nick and Chris might hear you.” He says softly and moves back down my body. He slowly removes my panties and looks back up at me. “If you want me to stop, just say so and I will, okay baby?” He says and I nod. Matt then dips his head between my thighs, his stubble softly scratching the inside of my legs causing me to shudder. “I haven’t even started yet.” He laughs softly.

He then licks a slow stride up my pussy to my clit causing me to moan out loudly. He shushes me again before licking another stride. I grip the sheets of his bed as Matt licks more and more, his tongue going deep between my folds and pulsing and curling over my clit. I tug at his hair and open my mouth to moan but suppress it due to Nick and Chris being in the house.

“M-Matt please I need y-you please.” I beg in a quiet voice as Matt’s tongue glides through my folds.

“Use your words baby.” He says and dips his head back between my thighs.

“Touch me, Matt.” I whimper.

“This is touching you baby.” He kisses my inner thigh. “Do you want my fingers, is that it?” He asks and I nod frantically. Matt smiles and slowly slides one finger into me, pumping it in and out of my sopping wet pussy at a slow pace.

“Matt!” I moan out

“Shhh baby, be quiet.” He chucked softly and I feel his stubble against my thigh again causing me to jolt. He removes his finger from inside me and sits up, pulling down his sweatpants and boxers all at once. “Sorry to stop when you were so close, baby, but I didn’t want to overstimulate you your first time.” He says softly as he hovers over me, planting kissed all over my face.

He sits back up and positions himself at my entrance. I stiffen as I feel the tip enter me, already stretching me out. I moan softly and he stops.

“Are you okay? Does it hurt?” He asks as he hovers back over me and kisses my neck gently.

“I’m okay.” I breathe out. Matt pushes himself just a little further in me and I gasp from the slight sting. I wince and grip his shoulders tight, causing him to stop.

“Is everything okay?” He asks again and I nod in response. “Okay.” He whispers and kisses my forehead. He pushes the last few inches in and stays as he is to let me adjust.

“I’m gonna move, okay?” He says and I nod. Matt nods as well and slowly pulls almost all the way out of me, and then just as slowly pushes himself back in. He stays at this agonizingly slow pace until I say

“Matt, please go a little faster.”

Matt doesn’t take a second thought before he starts going faster. It’s still a slow pace but not so slow. He leans down and kisses me again before reaching down to rub his thumb in circles around my clit.

Soon enough a bind finds its way into my stomach. A feeling that matches a full bladder and I panic.

“Matt I- I think I have to pee.” I say bashfully to him and he just chuckles.

“No, baby, this is good. It means you’re close.”

“Close to what?” I ask and his thumb flicks over my clit in a way that causes me to jolt and grip his biceps hard.

“Your orgasm, baby.” He smirks and kisses my neck. His thrusts speed up just a tad as his thumb rubs faster circles around my clit.

“Matt!” I whine out, trying but failing to be quiet.

“Go on baby, cum for me.” He mumbles into my neck. Without a second thought I release onto him, the bind in my stomach fleeting away as my body shakes from all the pleasure. Soon after, Matt pulls out and pumps his cock a few times as he leans back, and his own cum shoots out from the top and lands in stings on his abdomen.

Matt falls down and lays next to me. He kisses my forehead and pulls me close to his side, out of breath.

“Did you like it!” He asks, halfway laughing. I nod, unable to form words.

“good. Me too.” He says and holds me tighter.

[khaotunq]

hi jay i love u and im sorry your day sucked i'll beat it up for you. here's a chaotic collection of firmeows & tungmeows that i've made (all for discord so they are not sized properly, sorry !)

and a few more softe fkts. i hope this will cheer you up and also not lag your computer bc i sent 12 gifs in one ask. mwah.

Ro 😭😭😭😭 these are all so precious I love them sm they're such silly silly boys. Thank you for this gifspam it is the greatest. You're the most, bb 🥰💞

(Excitingly, my phone hasn't tried to die for opening it, so that's personal growth on behalf of the tumblr app, I feel!)

[ibatomik]

how do u boop sm??!?! my computer lags when i try to spam it !!

Well I line up the boop button and the accept button and I click rhythmically. Maybe like one click or two every second

[yeenybeanies]

Smallest Cyber Specialist (pt. 9)

if you found out that your dead partner's ex-wife was trying to contact you, would you give her a call? this is the question pip contemplates after receiving some of the worst news of her life. i apologize––i know my stuff tends to be pretty dialogue heavy, but this one is thick with dialogue --w--" first • previous • next call of duty | john mactavish/soap, simon riley/ghost, & pip lagomorph/lag (oc) 4,221 words strong language warning reblogs > likes!! thanks for reading!! patreon ✨ ko-fi ✨ ao3

Pip woke up with a gasp, her limbs flailing, tangling in the fabric around her. Where was she? When has she fallen asleep? What—? 

With a frustrated grunt, she kicked the fabric off and sat upright. 

The barracks. She was in the barracks, in a nest of blankets on someone’s bunk. It smelled like Soap’s. 

Soap, asleep and snoring softly to her left, confirmed that it was, in fact, his bunk. The sergeant was lying on his stomach with his arms hugging his pillow to his chest and his head turned towards her. His face was soft and relaxed. Her stirring hadn’t disturbed him, it seemed. Good. 

The adjacent bunk—Ghost’s—was empty. With Soap blocking her view of the other side, she couldn’t tell if Gaz was in his either. Many of the other bunks were occupied, though. It must have been night time. That would explain why the lights were out.

Gods above, she’d slept that long? 

Passed out for that long, more like. Pip could taste the lingering notes of whiskey on her tongue. At least she didn’t have a headache…

Unconsciously, she reached to the side for her glove, but paused when her fingers met the coarse fabric. 

The glove. 

Heat rose in her cheeks. This was Ghost’s glove. And, in her half-drunk, grief-stricken stupor, she’d humped the damn thing. 

A fucking glove. How embarrassing. 

Worse still, she could see herself doing it again. 

Pip dropped her head into her hands and bit back a groan. Alcohol and humping spare articles of clothing was not how she wanted to mourn the loss of her best friend. She scrubbed down her face and stared off into the darkness, brows pinched. 

Laswell had mentioned that Dana was trying to contact her. For reasons she couldn’t begin to comprehend, Looker’s ex-wife was looking for Pip. And, against her better judgment,  Pip was coming around to the idea of obliging her. She already had Dana’s number—an in-case-of-emergencies bit of information Looker had given her to use in case no one else was able to inform his family of his death. 

She never told him that she’d found Dana’s contact information and run a thorough background check on her long before that. The point was: one way or another, she had Dana’s number.  

Pip reached past the glove for her backpack and the computer within. She glanced at the time on the screen. Three thirty-seven AM. That would make it six thirty-seven PM back in Texas, where Dana lived. That wasn’t too late to call. 

But did Pip actually want to call? Of course she didn’t. Why was she even entertaining this idea? It was stupid! 

She pulled up her SMS app and scrolled to Ghost’s contact. 

>> it’s lag. where are you?

His response came only a minute later—admittedly, much faster than she’d expected. 

How did you get this number &lt;<

Pip rolled her eyes. 

>> i have everyone’s number. even the secret ones. you’re not in your bunk.

Observant of you. &lt;<

He was being annoying. To use his own words, a right wanker. Pip clenched her jaw and took a breath. She was trying to figure out how to rephrase what she wanted to say to him without all of the nasty words, when he started typing again. 

I’m talking with Price. What do you need? &lt;<

>> i need to make a call. need to go somewhere private.

Get Soap to take you. &lt;<

Ugh. Why was he like this? One minute, he was compassionate—in his own weird, Ghost-y way—and the next he was being an ass. Or, in Soap’s words, a bawbag. 

Human insults were so… dissatisfying.

A part of her welcomed the banter as a distraction. But most of her just found it frustrating. She typed back:

>> he’s asleep. assuming gaz is too. don’t want to wake them. >> if you don’t want to help, fine. i’ll jump down, hope i don’t break my other leg, and find somewhere to go on my own.

Sounds dramatic. Be there in a minute. &lt;<

Yes, it was dramatic. But it worked. Pip snapped her laptop shut and dug her fingers into her hair. Soap stirred next to her, drawing Pip’s attention to him. He adjusted his hold on the pillow, and nuzzled further into it. His chest heaved in a heavy sigh, the warmth of his breath washing over Pip. The pink of his tongue flashed momentarily between his lips. 

Pip shivered. Gods, she missed Looker. 

And then she silently looked away and berated herself for that thought. Pull yourself together. You’re probably about to talk to his ex-wife.  

“Lag?” Soap’s voice made Pip jump. Her head whipped around to face Soap again. He still looked half asleep, his eyes half-lidded. He breathed out sharply through his nose. “Spooky. You’ve got those glowy eyes.” 

Pip blinked. It was true; in low light, hideling eyes did shine red. 

“Go back to sleep, Soap,” she said. 

A soft smile shaped his lips, but it disappeared just as quickly as it came. He shifted to lie on his side. “You okay?” 

Pip’s expression fell. She looked away and fidgeted idly with her hands. “No, I’m really not,” she said honestly, “but I’m going to have to be.” 

Soap reached for her, his knuckle lightly brushing her shoulder. “Rough week, hm?” 

She snorted humorlessly. “You have no idea.” 

“I might—” he paused mid-sentence, eyes darting up. Pip followed his gaze to see Ghost’s silhouetted figure approaching. The lieutenant stopped at Soap’s bedside, his arms crossed over his chest. Even through the dark and his mask, Pip could see his raised brow. 

“‘Soap’s asleep,’ huh? ‘Didn’t want to wake him’?” 

Pip scowled up at him. “He was asleep,” she said tersely. 

“‘M still asleep, LT,” Soap said with a lazy grin. “Sleep talking.” 

Ghost rolled his eyes. Pip was tempted to do the same. “Shut up, Johnny,” he growled, but there was no real bite in his words. There never was, when it came to Soap. “Shut your eyes too, while you're at it.” 

Pip put her hand to Soap’s knuckle. “I’ll be alright,” she said softly. “Thank you.” 

Whether or not he believed her, Soap nodded, and pulled his hand away. He exchanged a quick glance with Ghost, then rolled over onto his other side and pulled his blanket up to his shoulders. 

Ghost’s hand came down next to Pip, silently inviting her on. She grabbed her backpack, her crutches, and her glove, then climbed into his palm. A faint smell of cigar smoke clung to him, his clothes. Pip inhaled slowly, subtly, drinking in the smoky-sweet aroma. Price must have lit one up while he and Ghost were having their late night chat. 

She wouldn’t mind a few second-hand puffs, if she was honest.

“Where to?” Ghost asked once they were out in the hall, well out of earshot of any sleeping operators. “Price’s stash room again?”

Pip thought for a moment. She didn’t need the temptation of liquor again so soon. Ghost didn’t need to enable her either. “No,” she said. “No one’s in the mess hall, right? I can work on my pelt when I’m done with the call.” Doing so would probably distract her from some of the grief, at least. And it was a more productive distraction than anything else she could see herself doing. 

“Should be quiet in there,” Ghost said. He turned down a corridor, headed towards the mess hall. 

“I still don’t want to talk about it,” Pip added. Just in case Ghost was curious. 

The lieutenant shrugged. “Still wasn’t gonna ask,” he said. “How much longer until your pelt’s ready?” 

“I’ll finish it today.” 

“Good. Then you won’t have to defile my glove anymore.” 

Pip froze, her mind coming to a momentary standstill. Fuck. Did he know? How had he found out? Heat rose in her cheeks, but she refused to give him a reaction. She wouldn’t even acknowledge his comment. It could mean anything, right? Absolutely.

“Why are you and Price still up?” she asked, pointedly changing the topic. “It’s almost four in the morning.” 

“Woke up. Couldn’t go back to sleep. Not sure if Price ever went to bed.” 

Of all her handlers, Pip was the least familiar with Price’s sleeping habits. Gaz slept pretty solidly, but he did tend to toss a bit. Soap, for the most part, was dead to the world when he slept, though he had woken up once in a startle. Scared the shit out of Pip that time. Ghost was more tumultuous. He didn’t move too much, but he was easy to wake, like his sleep cycle was on a hair trigger. 

But Captain John Price? Pip had never been around Price while he was asleep. 

She hummed a thoughtful note. 

“Who are you callin’ at almost four in the morning?” Ghost asked. 

She hesitated to answer, deciding how much she wanted to tell him. A part of her wanted to tell him everything in hopes that he would talk her out of this very, very stupid idea; another part of her wanted to tell him to fuck off and mind his own damn business. 

Ultimately, she settled on a vague middle ground: “It’s not four AM in America.” 

Ghost eyed her through his peripherals, but didn’t ask for any further elaboration. “Just don’t compromise us, yeah?”

Indignation flared in her chest, hot and fast. Pip whipped her head around to glare at the lieutenant, her lip curled. “Fuck off, Riley,” she snarled. She was pulling out the last name for this scolding. “Me? Of everyone here, I am the least likely to compromise anything.” Asshole.  

Ghost snorted. “‘Riley,’” he repeated. “Sounds like I’m back in Basic getting an ass-chewing.” 

“Probably deserved it then, too,” she grumbled. 

“Probably.” 

The mess hall was dark when they entered. Of course it was dark. It was four in the morning, as they’d established, and no one was in here. Ghost moved to flip on a light switch, but Pip stopped him. 

“I don’t need the light,” she said. “You can leave it off.” 

“All fine and well,” he replied, “but I can’t see shite, and I’m the one carrying you to your pelt.” 

“I’ll guide you. Sidestep to your left, turn to eleven o’ clock, and start walking.” When Ghost didn’t move, Pip tipped her head back in exasperation. In doing so, she locked eyes with Ghost. “We’ve done this already, Lieutenant. A week ago.”

“Same day you got blown up, yeah. I remember.”

She grimaced, none too appreciative of that little reminder. “Just walk,” she said sternly. 

And he did. Surprisingly, there wasn’t much of a change in his gait. His steps were a bit more careful, but he largely walked the same way he normally did, and followed Pip’s direction like a good soldier. When he was one step away from the table, Pip instructed him to stop, and he did. He felt out with his free hand for the table’s surface, finding it with ease. 

“This is good. Thanks,” Pip said as he set her down. 

“Let me know when you need me to come get you,” Ghost said, pulling his hand back once she disembarked. 

“I’ll be fine here tonight,” she replied. “You should rest.” 

“You sure?” 

She gave him an annoyed look, her wide pupils catching that red glow in the low light. “Am I sure that you should rest?”

She knew that wasn’t what he was asking about, but she turned it on him nevertheless. Her handlers needed their rest if they were to keep her safe. That was the only reason she cared. Absolutely. 

Ghost put his hands up. “Lucky I can’t pull rank on you for that attitude,” he said, his voice halfway to a growl. Damn right, too. Technically, none of them could pull rank on her—not even Price.  She didn’t actually work for the 141; she was just here to help on Laswell’s request. 

She also had half a mind to mention that Soap was regularly insubordinate—in how he spoke to Ghost in particular—but she kept that to herself. 

“Good night, Ghost,” Pip said with a dismissive wave. She turned away from him and pretended to examine her pelt, at least until she heard his soft footfalls recede into the hall and beyond. 

Gods, for such a massive human, he could be scarily quiet. 

Once she was sure he was gone, she released a heavy exhale. So, she was really doing this. She was going to call Dana. 

Why? She didn’t know. Closure, maybe? But what closure would this bring her? Was it guilt? These questions rattled around in her mind as she opened her computer and pulled up Dana’s contact information again. Before she could have any more second thoughts, she hit the call button. 

And it rang. 

Nervous energy drove her to fidget. She adjusted her headset. Adjusted her scarf. Adjusted her computer. Adjusted her headset again. Audio only to her? Yep. Voice modulator still working? Of course. 

The line rang twice more. Hope bubbled in Pip’s chest. Maybe Dana was busy. Maybe she wouldn’t answer. She wouldn’t be able to call this number back—

“Hello?” Dana. 

Fuck!  

Pip couldn’t find her voice. 

“Hello…?” 

If she didn’t say anything now, Dana was going to hang up. Pip muted her mic, cleared her throat, and forced herself to speak. Mic back on, she said, “Miss Ortega?” 

Dana Ortega. Formerly Mrs. Dana Ortega-Looker. She’d dropped his name when they’d gotten divorced. 

“Yes? Who is this?” 

Pip’s mouth felt dry. Swallowing didn’t help any. She cleared her throat again. “This is Agent Lagomorph. I was told that—” 

“Lag? You’re Lag?” 

She stammered for a moment. “Uh—I’m—yes, I’m Lag. Miss Ortega, I was told that you—”

Again, Dana interrupted, “You sound different than I imagined.” Pip didn’t know how to respond to that. Dana continued, “I imagined you sounding more like a stupid bimbo bitch from California.” 

Damn. Pip stared at the screen with brows furrowed, a little taken aback. The sudden hostility was simultaneously a surprise, and not surprising at all. “...Did he say I was from California?” 

“No. He never told me anything about you. Not even your real fucking name. A part of me thought you weren’t even real, but, with how tight-lipped he was about you, and how much time you two spent together…” She trailed off with a sigh. She sounded frustrated. Angry. 

“We were partners,” Pip said, keeping her voice even, “and our line of work requires the utmost secrecy…” 

“Shut up,” Dana snapped, making Pip flinch. “I don’t want to hear it. You say you two were partners, huh?”

“Yes—”

“Then why is my husband dead, Lag?”

The question hit her like a punch to the chest, dead center. It felt like it could have knocked the air from her lungs. “He—you—” she paused to take a breath, eyes closed. Calm. Steady. “He was your ex-husband. And he was KIA.” 

Dana scoffed. Pip tried to imagine her body language. Human nonverbal communication was still an enigma to her, but she’d been noticing some things since her introduction to the 141. Balled fists when frustrated. Raised heads. Puffed chests. Clenched jaws. Narrowed eyes. Some things were similar to hideling behavior; others were very different. 

“‘Partner,’” she spat the word like it was a curse, laced with venom. “Don’t partners protect each other? Have each other’s back? So why is Dominic dead?” 

His first name was less like a punch to the chest and more like a knife slotted between her ribs. Pip grimaced and dragged her hands down her face. She tried to keep her voice from breaking, but couldn’t completely mask the strain as she spoke. “I wasn’t near Dom when he was killed. I was performing my duties elsewhere at the time. There was nothing I could have done to protect or save him.”

Nothing at all. And that hurt to know. 

Even if she had been there, what could she have done? The “protection” in their partnership was largely one-sided, as it always was with hideling-human dynamics. 

She hadn’t even been able to see him before he was sent back home in a body bag… The last time she’d seen his face was right after he’d discreetly let her out of his backpack near the server room. He’d wished her luck with a thumbs up, then rushed off to rejoin Ghost’s squad. Fearless Looker...

“So you’re kinda useless as a partner, huh?” Dana cut in. Pip felt her nose crinkle, but she said nothing. She wouldn’t acknowledge that. “You’re the reason he and I divorced, and you got him killed.”

Well, so much for holding her tongue. “I had no part in your divorce,” she snarled. “You left him because of your own insecurities. That is not on me.” 

“Tell me, Lag, were you fucking him? Huh? Did you two fuck?” 

Pip nearly choked on her own spit. The audacity of this woman! “Wha—that’s none of your business.” 

“Anything other than a resounding ‘no’ is a ‘yes,’” Dana said. Pip could hear the cruel smile in her voice, which only pissed her off more. 

Who did this woman think she was? Why was Pip even talking to her? This had been an enormously terrible idea. 

“So he was cheating on me,” Dana continued. 

“No,” Pip said quickly. Defensively. She took a pause to breathe in through her nose, out through her mouth. Calm. “No. He wasn’t. Never did. He loved you, Dana.” Another pause. “We only ever had sex after your divorce.” 

That was unnecessary. It really was none of Dana’s business who Pip—or Looker, for that matter—hooked up with. Pip didn’t know why she’d said that.

“Whore,” Dana spat. 

Childish. Petty insults wouldn’t hurt her. 

“Why didn’t you come to his funeral?” Dana asked. It sounded more like an accusation.

“I couldn’t attend,” Pip said simply. It wasn’t a lie. “I’m still on mission. Our mission. I’d like to send flowers, though, if you tell me where he’s b—” 

“Keep your goddamn flowers.” 

Pip pressed her lips together, a little frustrated, a little confused. Humans liked to place flowers on the graves of the dead, right? Americans, at least… 

“You really are the worst fucking person to be paired up with.” Dana said. “First you let Dominic die, and then you don’t even have the decency to take off work and lay him to rest? Did the CIA give you a new partner yet, hm? Another poor bastard for you to get killed?” 

Pip was starting to see red. She clenched her jaw. Balled her fist. Dana had to be intentionally ignoring what she was saying. 

Breathe in… breathe out… Disregard the comment about her new partner… 

Partners. Plural. Pip stole a glance at her cast, and the four signatures scrawled across it. She felt a pang in her chest.

This was a woman lashing out in her grief, Pip reminded herself. But fuck! Pip was grieving too! 

“You have no idea what we were involved in—what I’m still involved in.”

“Because Dominic would never tell me any—”

“Because you are not authorized to know,” she interrupted. If Dana wanted to act childish, then Pip would speak to her like a child. “Don’t get mad at me because you’re in the dark; it is not my decision. It wasn’t Dom’s decision to withhold things from you, either—about his job or about me. It comes with the territory. You agreed to this when you married him, Dana. When you first started dating him!” 

Gods, she remembered that day—the day Looker told her that he’d met someone that he really liked. Someone he really wanted to pursue. 

Pip had been skeptical from the get-go, but she wanted Looker to be happy.

“It isn’t my fault that you couldn’t handle it—that you couldn’t trust him—and chose to divorce him. As soon as you signed those papers, you lost all right to what little information you were allowed. Even this conversation—I am calling you as a courtesy, because I cared about Dom, and I know he cared about you.” 

“Fuck you,” Dana spat. 

Fuck you too, you hollow bat. Rot in the sun. “I think that’s enough. Good night, Miss Ortega. We—”

“He has a child.” 

Pip froze. She went silent for nearly a minute. Had she misheard? “...What?”

“He has a child,” Dana repeated, sounding smug. “Almost two years old. Born not long after our divorce.” 

Looker never told her about a child. And Looker told her damn near everything. She knew that man inside and out. She knew him better than Dana ever could. He would have told her if he had a kid. Which means that either Dana never told him, or that she was lying. 

She hunched over and started to type on her computer. “You never told him that he was a father?” It was her turn to sound accusatory. 

“Why would I?” Dana said. “It wasn’t like he’d have time for a family. He was always too busy gallivanting off with you.” 

Pip started a search. She could comb through hospital records of births in Dana’s area in the general time frame of a human pregnancy, but that net was too wide. She could do better. She felt no obligation to operate within human legal channels, either. Her whole job revolved around ignoring human privacy laws. 

It didn’t take her long to find what she was looking for. Pip’s typing slowed. She narrowed her eyes. 

“You’re a liar,” she said dryly. 

“Excuse me?” 

“I said you’re a liar, Miss Ortega.” Dana waffled, but Pip didn’t let her gather her bearings. “There is absolutely no record anywhere of a child born under your name. And believe me, Miss, I am very thorough when it comes to looking through records.” 

“I—what—how could you possibly—”

“What’s the child’s name?” Pip asked. She was no longer interested in playing nice. “When is its birthday? What is its favorite toy?”

Dana had no answers. She could only sputter and stammer. 

“Why would you try to lie to me about something like this, Dana?” Pip leaned back onto the heels of her palms and turned her head to the ceiling. Her energy was spent, and her patience along with it. “Even if there was a kid, telling me this is a disservice to Dom, more than anything. Not me. I’m done talking to you. We will never speak to each other again.” That was a promise. “Have a good evening, Miss Ortega.”

“You bitch! If I ever find out—” 

“You won’t.” Click.  

Pip breathed out a heavy sigh, her shoulders sagging under the weight of… of everything, really. She shouldn’t have done that. She should not have called Looker’s ex-wife. Nothing was gained from their conversation; it only served to reopen still very fresh wounds. 

“Fucking pile of rotten coyote’s guts,” Pip muttered in Hidespeak. Her native insults always felt so much better than English ones. Calling someone a female dog? A sex worker? A body part? Please.  

Telling someone that not even the hungriest vultures would touch their corpse—now that was an insult. 

Regardless, Pip once again found herself questioning why Looker had ever married that gutpile. She’d never liked Dana, and Dana hated that Looker had a secret work partner. Looker knew of this animosity. But it was never Pip’s place to intervene in his relationships. He was a grown man, after all. 

When Dana presented Looker with the ultimatum: her or Pip, their marriage or his career, Pip remembered his heartbreak. He’d taken emergency leave to try and work things out with her. Pip remembered the anxiety she’d felt, waiting at their HQ, not knowing whether or not Looker would come back, wondering if she'd have to be assigned another new handler… But he’d returned. 

Now that she thought about it, she couldn't recall Looker ever explicitly telling her that he’d chosen the CIA over Dana. He’d only said that she was divorcing him, and there was nothing he could do about it.

And now, here she was two years later. Looker was dead, and Pip was stuck with not one, but four untrained handlers, on the most dangerous mission she’d ever been assigned. 

This had been the single-most stressful week of her life. However… not that she'd ever tell them, but these four rough-n-tough soldiers were growing on her. Even Price. 

Ugh. She didn't want to think about that. 

Pip rolled her head to the side, looking at her pelt. It was dried and treated. Now it just needed to be shaped. She glanced quickly at her computer screen, noting the time. Quarter past four. 

Damn, she’d suffered a conversation with Dana for more than ten minutes? How miserable. 

The 141 would be waking up soon. Hopefully Price and Ghost could manage to get some sleep. In the meantime, Pip had a pelt to work on. She could try to distract herself from her woes with the prospect of finally having a proper disguise again. 

A sidelong look to Ghost’s glove gave her pause. She considered it for a long moment, then snorted softly to herself. It was a shit replacement for a pelt in almost every way. 

She wasn’t done with it, though. Ghost was just going to have to make do with his mismatched gloves for the foreseeable future.

[tsuunytsuun]

This is EXTREMELY random and probably very controversial.. But I think simmers put the sims 3 on too high of a pedestal.

[warning, this rant is LOOOONGGG so strap in if you dare.. also, these are opinions, if that wasn't obvious, so please relax before you threaten me or sm]

The way I play the sims depends a lot on the visuals (cas cc, builds, reshade and save files) so I prefer the sims 4 for obvious reasons.

I'm just stating my opinion, and I agree that the sims 4 has a LOT LOT LOT of problems, but Istg if I see ONE more reddit post with the title "The Sims 4 is kinda boring tbh" or "The sims 3 is better than the sims 4" or some iteration of that, I'm gonna lose my actual mind and delete the internet.

WE KNOW.

PERSONALLY, I just think a lot of simmers are semi-blinded by their nostalgia. Cause ts3 has more problems than people want to admit- and anybody who tries to come at me with the old "tHE sImS tHrEe HaD aN OpeN wOrlD!" argument can honestly go stub a toe.

Yes. I am complaining about complainers, deal with it.

They say TS4 has too many rabbit holes, but BABES TS3 has them pretty much EVERYWHERE. Restaurant? Rabbit hole. Store? rabbit hole. Spa? Rabbit hole. Rabbit hole rabbit hole RABBIT HOLE.

People act like TS3 didn't/doesn't need mods to make it more playable, JUST LIKE THE SIMS 4.

Keep in mind that I'm NOT hating on the sims 3 as a game, I played it and it's fun ig- I'm ranting about the group of simmers who will DIE on the "THE SIMS 4 SUCKS RAAAHHHH" hill and will never let the argument rest. (Although trust me, I've had my share of "the sims 4 sucks" moments and wanted to throw my computer)

I feel like when TS4 was announced, people were expecting a literal CLONE of TS3 with better graphics, and since that didn't happen, hate.

Just watch, when the sims 5 comes out, people are gonna pop their rose-tinted glasses back on and reminisce about how PERFECT the sims 4 was. It will become the NEW sims 3, the GOAT.

The weirdest thing to me is when a new pack is announced and people are basically going "omg this new pack is gonna SUCK, so I'm gonna spend a bunch of money so I can TELL them how much it sucks- that oughta show em"

WHY? Just WHY.

And about some of the gameplay bugs (I'm not talking about certain expansion packs, we all know those are broken and complaints about that are perfectly valid) I've been seeing. Eighty percent of the time they can be fixed by deleting files in your game than can cause issues.

I'm literally BEGGING yall at this point, delete the localthumbcache file in your sims game folder. PLEASE. It won't harm your game. It helps a lot with lag and other bugs.

At this point some people are just complaining to complain, complaining is practically a cornerstone of the sims community at this point.

It's a part of the deal when you sign on to become a simmer, it's a tradition, a fact of life, one of the many things that brings simmers all over the world together. Complaining.

Also, lets be honest here. Even if the TS4 glitches are annoying, sometimes they can be pretty dang hilarious. Trust me, all you have to do is search "funniest sims 4 glitches" on Youtube and prepare to laugh.

Thank you for coming to my TED talk, I'll see myself out. Waiting for the inevitable discrediting of this rant in the comments.

(I posted this on reddit too, so if you see it there then yeah that's me)

[atherix]

Okay so like on the topic of mcytblr events, my overly ambitious ass has been really considering holding a java only event for mcytblr where its like. People have a chance to sign up for life series event

The only issue is it'd be so much of a commitment to planning, like setting up mods and making sure they work for everyone (since I imagine there'd be 15? people at most but even that is a lot) and optimizing the server so nobody is struggling w lag too bad AND THEN making a specific time for sessions that would fit 15 peoples schedules every week LOL.

I respect grian sm for setting them up bc actually setting up is so much time 😭

Yeah that's just the thing, scheduling. I think the only way an MCYTblr event can happen is if it's ONE day that's planned in advance, so that everyone involved can make arrangements to be available. I think it would be tons of fun but it definitely couldn't be anything weekly/ongoing since, well... this is unfortunately not our jobs.

That being said, FUCK an MCYTblr Fan Life event would be rad as hell, even if it would only be for a few hours. I think it would probably end up with a minimum requirements deal, since Minecraft alone is already a pretty beefy game- if your computer couldn't handle the necessary mods... but that being said. I think it would be fun. It would take a HELL of a lot of advanced planning (for example I have to request my days off work a month in advance, which would mean a minimum of a month and some days away) and cooperation from a group (because this isn't our jobs and we're not all Grian, I imagine there'd be a group of admins lmao) to get everything done...

The thing is, depending on how many people would want to participate, you'd have to have a criteria for people to meet? Like. Audition tapes LMAO OTL but we'd have to have a maximum number of players we can have, can't just be like "SIGN UP AND GET IN" it would still need to be somewhat controllable ya know-

[vespertine-legacy]

Got invited to join for a stab at SM Lady Dominique to get a few folks their clear (I still haven’t gotten my clear, because we had gotten to Lady Dom right before I moved and lost my internet for 8 weeks), with the caveat that my computer is a laggy little potato. Was offered to solo heal or dps, and asked if they really wanted to risk me solo healing when part of the reason I stopped progging was that my computer decided to sometimes forget that it is a computer. So dps it was.

We did not end up clearing, but we did have several really good pulls, all getting her into burn phase (I’m pretty sure all with her hp in the teens or lower).

One pull was really embarrassing because I lagged super hard right as I hit my roll, so I ended up hitting it twice and rolled into the abyss, and managed to find the invisible floor underneath the platforms. Because I was technically on a floor, my safety jetpack wouldn’t engage to get me back to the platforms, and I was out of range to yeet myself to anyone in group or any of the enemies. (Though I was able to kill a shit load of Grey Swarm and one Reaper that came to me). On that pull, we got her to 1% (possibly actually 0, because her health may have actually been low enough to read as 0% but not quite be dead yet), but because I was underneath the group and still getting Recursives, I couldn’t really tell where I needed to stand to best position myself to not yeet whoever I was connected to, and because I could only attack adds that happened to wander down to me instead of actually working with the group, we were behind on dps while Reapers and Monstrosities munched on everyone.

[majachee]

My computer is lagging sm bro....

Painting a background for an animation meme... hell....

[diseasedcube]

*adding another 300 images to my cutthroat album in one go, like a normal sane person without a hoarding problem*

[cinnamonellele]

oh god are tommy and ranboo doing lore

[sonhabem]

Commission for @squiggled-eyed-rabbit !! I had so much fun with this yall have no idea!! such a shame tumblr makes it so small ;;

[teaxbunnii]

ooo ive wanted to play omori for a while! sadly my computer is a stumpy old man TwT

oh!! Well there's other ways you can play it! I played it on my switch!! So if you have a switch i recommend playing it on there!!! plus, there's new content on the switch version :]

(I played it on switch instead because my laptop lags sm so I just bought it on switch with the money my dad gave me lol)

[rosy-wooyoung]

Let’s get emotional…

I know no one will read this but i’m still putting it out there!

today is my account anniversary!! 🥳🥳

I created this blog on the 14.12.2019, and a year later, nothing really changed. It’s just me, still sitting at my desk, my whole back hurting with cold hands and my pathetically low self-esteem. It was one boring evening, I remember, I had just eaten dinner and I rushed to my computer to come back on Tumblr to read more ATEEZ content because I was fascinated by them, their talent and stage presence. (I still am, don’t worry) And then, I thought damn, I wanna write for them as well. You know what?

Fuck it. Imma do it.

I put the task of finding a username aside and start feeling inspiration flooding in my mind. I spend the entire evening writing as the words come, not caring about the coherence, the grammar nor the consistency of my writing, I just type and type until my fingers are cramping and my brain lagging. It’s just an amazing feeling when you don’t have to rack your brains to find ideas or words, I just had to think of an ATEEZ member, and the imagination would immediately submerge my mind. 

I truly aspire to find back the motivation I had a year ago.

The next morning, I even skip breakfast because I wanted to create, brainstorm, rewrite and correct the works I had produced the night before. I completely ditch my uni homework - don’t do that kids - until the end of the afternoon, where I post a note, introducing myself to the atiny Tumblr community. I was very anxious and shy before posting my first imagine, but I was immediately welcomed with likes, 20 on the first day to be exact. It was HUGE for me. 

I’m someone extremely self-conscious and very hard on myself, so it was kind of a struggle to post content out on the Internet for strangers to read. I’ve always feared judgement, I’ve bathed in it since the day I was born and I can’t seem to get rid of it. 20+ fics are still rotting in my drafts, I’m just too insecure to release them, so I ignore them and always search for new content to write about. I’m also scared to disappoint, but that’s another story. Aside from that, I’m really grateful because I’ve never received this much love and support in my life since I started this account. Whether is keyboard smashing in the reblog section or just someone saying “uwu that was so cute 🥺”, my day is automatically better. I have never received support or compliments from my parents, siblings or friends that I thought were the closest. Never. And it’s a weird yet great feeling!!

The first two months were amazing. By the beginning of February, I had hit the 200-followers milestone. It was something unbelievable for me. You may think that I’m exaggerating, but I was really thinking that I would only get like maximum 50 followers, and I would have still been happy about it. My account was doing great, but at this point, it was my health that started going downhill.

The pandemic and the stress from it aggravated everything, weakening my heart to the point of needing urgent surgeries (2, almost 3 in October, where there was a risk for me to d*e. Great when you’re a young woman who only spent her twenty first years of existence studying and worrying about her future :/). I get stressed out extremely easily and my doctor diagnosed me with severe anxiety and depression a few years ago. And guess what? They were acting up of course, so nothing was by my side. I was lost about my future and my career ��� I still am haha (pain) – and it was a hard time for me, for us. I’m still not at my best, but at least I’m trying, that’s what matters the most, right? This blog and the people I met there were my source of comfort and light, my safe place, it helps me a lot to just read or laugh at what I see in my dash to make me forget about everything that is bothering me. I met wonderful, supportive people on there and I can’t find the right words to truly express how I am feeling. And here I am right now, a year later, Tumblr being my solace because I can read really really good fics and wips, as well as exchanging with other atinys and people from other fandoms.

I still have those moments of doubt when I’m about to post something like, will this be appreciated? Isn’t it too cliche, too bad, too fluffy, grammatically correct, cool enough, aesthetic enough, cute enough, did someone already write something along those lines without me knowing it? Will I get accused of stealing or plagiarising? 

I can’t stop overthinking, but I’m trying to work on it, I really am, even if it’s hard. It’s really not something easy and I get defeated quite quickly, but at least I’m trying.

Even if I lost loved ones during this year (friends that ghosted me for other people, my grandpa passing away from cancer, watching and knowing acquaintances dying bc of covid…) I’ve got to know beautiful angels on here, my mutuals and my followers!! Even if we don’t talk 24/7, I really love and appreciate every single one of you. I know we’re just internet friends, but you really count for me. Please excuse me if you’re tired of seeing me being constantly apologising or being weird and absolutely not funny, I’m trying to become a better person. I absolutely adore when you mention me in tag games or send me love and support via asks or private messages, it makes my heart go really warm. If it were possible, I’d give each single one of you a hug and a big kiss on the cheek because you all deserve it and I love you.

Thank you @atbzkingdom, @closer-stars, @barsformars, @trashlord-007, @ateez-little-star, @tinkerbellwoo, @chrryhwa, @ateezlips, and everyone that I missed that follow me and support me, I luv you all sm :-]

Sorry if this post doesn’t make sense, I just wanted to try and express my gratitude as well as my love for everything you gave me. I hope 2021 will be better, kinder for all of us, and I wish everyone reading this to be(come) happy and healthy.

with all my love, rosy ♥

[pencilsponyforge]

Source of my computer problems identified.

Apparently the lag that’s been making art streams and drawing in general a hassle / real pain is caused by my motherboard.

Whysoslow app stated the following:

"The highest measured SM BIOS interrupt or other stall was 145 microseconds. This is considered poor behavior. Your system may have difficulty handling multimedia in real-time and may be subject to unexpected stutters and unresponsive behavior"

This likely indicates my motherboard is dying, and also explains the many weird audio glitches and other weird issues I’ve been having.

So I have a PC upgrade ahead, after that’s done and my system again can manage without horrible hiccups I’ll be likely resuming my art streams, work permitting! At least weekend streams should be doable.