#and any overwatch character for that matter

[angelsanddirtyrain]

there's just something to say about cassidy's inability to fit in being the exact trait that lets him connect with others as smoothly as he does. he's a walking anachronism, a cowboy in a world where high speed rail travels countries in minutes, he never felt enough like a soldier to ever fully commit to being an overwatch agent, hell, he never even started out on the right side of the tracks in the first place. it all culminates in a person so removed from any current context that quite literally anyone can find common ground with him and i need to study him under a microscope

[mantisgodsdomain]

Now that we are being followed by people, we need to make some thoughts and opinions clear so that people are not later Shocked And Disgusted or whatever by thoughts we have held for many years. We think it's weird and also bad to treat queer people like they're a different species from cishet people, and we think that treating things like Having A Sexuality makes a character better than if they have a different sexuality is bad no matter what way you put it.

We also think that, if in your setting queer folks are widely accepted and straight isn't a "default", it may be worth noting that, say, a straight woman might need just as much self-discovery to work out she's straight that a lesbian does nowadays. In the same manner that, in Ace Attorney, Larry Butz needs to tell Phoenix that no matter how many photos of handsome men he shows him, he's tried, he's just not attracted to men,

[txttletale]

How is it possible that, in a multiplayer game, a character can be useless in pro gameplay but good in casual gameplay?

sometimes, it's because there are specific aspects of organized team play that are not technically 'inside the game' but render the character useless. for example, bastion from overwatch (pre-his ow2 rework) was a character whose gimmick was being able to do huge amounts of damage at the cost of being unable to move. the spy in team fortress 2 can kill people and then pretend to be them. these are both pretty strong in casual games when nobody is on voice comms, but in pro (or even high-level casual) games where everyone is in a voice chat together and communicating constantly, it's really easy to say "bastion is top right, flank him" or "the spy just got me".

a lot of strategies like this, that rely on surprise or deception (or, in games like league, poor map vision and awareness) get drastically worse the higher level play is, and so the same is true for character who are built around them.

another factor is skill expression -- basically, how many ways you have as a good player to leverage your skill for more impact. characters with extremely high mechanical variance, like widowmaker in overwatch, are going to vary wildly between a good player and a bad player, because the character requires you to consistently get headshots to get any value whatsoever. characters with higher skill expression are inevitably going to get better and better as you climb the ranks, eventually overtaking characters with low skill expression.

so, for example, characters in mobas or shooters who can get guaranteed value without having to aim or land a skillshot or position well have a guaranteed floor of value they're always going to bring to the team, no matter how bad the player playing them is. take junkrat from overwatch, whose primary form of landing damage is spamming bouncing grenades down chokepoints. a bad player is capable of doing this and getting, while not the most possible value from him (there is always going to be some level of skill expression where there is interactivity), a reasonable amount of value from him, whcih makes him disproportionately good in a lobby where everyone is bad but playing a character with a lower skill floor.

and this is good for the game! it is good for brand new players (or casual players who don't care about being good at the game) to have characters they can pick and reliably give their team value no matter how bad they are. it is good to introduce characters who can do insane things if you're really good at the game and give your higher tiers of play more complexity.

[yawnderu]

Longing — Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader

Im crying. Ghost is easily the most beautiful character to write about, this man deserves the world I just want to hold him :/

I want to love you. I help you recover when you're wounded, I sit next to you during briefings, I watch over you during missions. What do you want? A love poem? I don't know how to write those, but here, I found a knife you may like.

Simon carefully looked at you through the scope of his sniper rifle, making sure no enemies were near you. Whenever he took overwatch, his focus was mainly you. He watched as you took down enemies with ease, basking in the sight of your bloodied yet focused face, helping you take down enemies that could have given you any issues until you were out of his sight.

"Target down." Your voice was music to his ears, breaking him away from his trance as his hand reached for his radio. He cleared his throat before speaking, trying his best to hide the longing in his tone.

"Good job." But oh, you knew. You knew from the moment you looked into his eyes, from the way he always seemed to be next to you no matter what, from the way he always made sure to watch over you, from the way his tone softened when talking to you, from the way he put his hand on corners you may bump into; yet how do you tell a man this broken you love him no matter how shattered his soul is? How do you go about introducing him to your friends? Do you just say "hi, this is my boyfriend, he's a little rough around the edges but I see God when I look into his eyes"?

"Rendezvous at the helipad." Was his only indication, though it lacked the usual bite his words carried. Loving you was a low-grade ache, yet he still craved your love. He always felt undeserving of nice things, undeserving of life, completely unaware that the world owed him after everything that happened to him, yet his only interest was you.

Intimacy scares me, but I can make you a cool mask. As he walked, he remembered the time he "lost" a bet with you, his punishment was to make you a matching balaclava. He acted annoyed at it, as if it was an inconvenience, as if he didn't spend twice as much as he spent making his own mask just to make sure every single detail on the balaclava was perfect. Completely alone in the middle of nowhere, he allowed himself to snicker softly, remembering your surprised face when you saw the carefully crafted mask. The way you treated it with so much care as if it was made of glass, the way you put it on and looked just as beautiful as ever.

"Ghost?" Your voice broke him out of it, not even realizing he was already at the helipad. He nodded his head once he saw you, gaze drifting around before he walked past you.

"Simon. Call me Simon."

[pochipop]

＃MYSTIC MESSENGER !! ♡ — BEING VULNERABLE WITH YOU.

#. synopsis! — how they show their trust .

#. characters! — jumin, zen (hyun), yoosung, saeyoung (707), saeran (ray), jihyun (v) .

#. warnings! — slight angst.

#. others! — navigation & masterlist .

#. a/n! — come join my discord server? it's newly opened with a fantasy bakery theme! we have emojis from genshin impact, honkai star rail, sanrio, overwatch, pokemon, mystic messenger, and more! a collection of funny stickers, channels to promote yourself, meet new friends, share your writing/art, + lots more! plus, our staff is very chill and friendly! we'd love to see you there! <;33

＃ JUMIN !! ♡

Jumin, who never really thought himself to be the romantic type, but loses himself so easily in his relationship with you that he’d do anything imaginable just to see you smile for him. This sophisticated, pressed-suit wearing, stone-faced man who just crumbles when it comes to you, —who once thought love was some sick ruse made to rope people in and keep them hostage to their feelings, suddenly realizing that this rush is marvelous, and he can’t quite clearly remember a time before his heart seemed to beat for you. This man who swore he’d never love someone enough to put aside everything else on his mind and just live in the moment who sheds that dry cleaned business attire at the end of every workday and lets himself come undone for you. His walls come down and he welcomes you inside, and for once, he’s not scared of what will happen when you see the parts of him that perhaps aren’t as pretty as others. He lets you see the beautiful mess he’s made of himself over the years, and it’s then that he begins to pick up all these tattered pieces, finally preparing to put himself back together again. And recognizing you’ll help him do so is the sweetest comfort he’s ever known.

＃ HYUN (ZEN) !! ♡

Hyun, who stops pretending to be perfect over time and lets you see him in all the stages of healing. This man who often shields himself from the world, hiding behind a mask of narcissistic confidence, who finally lets his imperfections seep through to the surface and breathes another sigh of relief every single time you stay in the aftermath. He lets you in on the insecurities that lap at his ankles much more often than he'd ever had liked to have admitted before. He lets you hold him when he shatters instead of pushing you away, —dulls all his rigid edges to feel your warmth surround him, as if lowering all his defenses for the very first time. The world can be a cruel place to those that have made mistakes, but Hyun feels like he's finally found someone who can look at him for more than just the pretty, well-kempt face he maintains for the public. There's no sense of shame he feels the need to drown in when you let him fall apart in your arms. There's no crushing feeling of disappointment or suffocating feeling of disdain. He's more human than he fears he's ever been when your thumbs wipe the tears from beneath his eyes and you whisper to him that everything will be okay.

＃ YOOSUNG !! ♡

Yoosung, who learns over time how to not let things fester until they’ve built up so much he can’t keep them in any longer. For all he is and might not ever be, he’s come to realize that it’s okay to express his emotions before they reach a boiling point. He comes to you at the onset of upsetedness, —allows himself to feel frustrated without stuffing it down and pretending the problem doesn’t exist until it explodes. He finds that it’s so much easier to be earnest when you never talk down to him or make him feel like he’s any less of a person in your eyes because of it. Sometimes he needs advice, and other times, he just needs someone to talk to. No matter the case, he seeks you out before anyone else, knowing that you care enough about him to value his thoughts and opinions without qualifiers or regulations. He holds grudges sometimes that aren’t good for his own sake, and being shut down when he tries to address them only adds fuel to the fire. Having someone who truly listens and tells him that it’s okay to feel the way he does goes such a long way, —perhaps longer than you’ll ever know.

＃ SAEYOUNG (707) !! ♡

Saeyoung, who lets himself be honest eventually, —who lets himself chip away and then lets you smooth him over. He’s done a lot of things he’s not proud of, and he doesn’t need anyone to tell him that it wasn’t his fault. Whether it was or wasn’t doesn’t matter as much as what he knows he has to do going forward, and the last thing he really wants is to be coddled out of pity. He just wants to be heard, no sympathy necessary, no fawning over the way he sheds the skin he used to wear when he felt like happiness was millions of miles away. He just wants to be listened to. To Saeyoung, it’s the ultimate show of trust to admit to all the things he regrets, let them spill out like word vomit and not have to worry about the consequences. He doesn’t need you to understand, and knows you likely can’t given the specifics of his life’s course thus far, but knowing that you’re keen on carrying the burden with him is such an insurmountable feeling of relief. Finally, someone knows every grimy little corner of his soul and they still love him, still hold him, still want him. . . There’s nothing quite like it.

＃ SAERAN (RAY) !! ♡

Saeran, who lets little things slip as time goes on, —stares a little longer when he passes twin popsicles in grocery stores because he knows you won’t ask why. As much as he likes to pretend that he can fix things by pretending they never hurt him in the first place, there are always scars that linger just below the surface, ready to burst at the first sight of mint-colored liquids or at the first sound of deceptively sweet voices offering commands from the shadows. He carries a lot around with him wherever he goes, and just loving him until the sun dies isn’t a cure-all. You can’t turn back time and shield him from all the things in his life that have left him feeling like a shattered stain glass window. All the love in the world can’t fix the past. But there’s nothing that means more to him than knowing he can lean on you, —even if he doesn’t always do it. There’s such a sweet comfort in knowing he can turn to you when he feels like he’s drowning. And if sometimes that manifests only in letting himself shed a few tears while he eats an ice cream cone outside next to you in the sunshine, then so be it.

＃ JIHYUN (V) !! ♡

Jihyun, who talks about it all a little at a time, —about the good and the bad, the ugly and the beautiful; because it wasn’t always bad. There were times before you came in which he’d been so in love that he’d have done anything to stay exactly where he was, to freeze those moments up and keep them in a capsule that could never be shaken. And it’s important for Jihyun to tell you about those things every now and again, to let you in and reminisce on the way he’d once been so sure of it all, so ready to settle down and stay exactly where he was. But it’s equally as important for him to bare the remnants of the betrayal for you to kiss, and hold, and make peace with. He likes to think you understand him better in the wake of it, —that you’ve seen him in a new light every time he sits with you and tells you of the loss, the desire, the yearning, and all the ways he wishes things could have been different for everyone. In the end, he’s here, and there’s nowhere else he’d rather be.

[vexwerewolf]

Tell us about one of your favorite Lancer mechs you've piloted

(art by @deeganart)

-- IPS-N Tortuga @ LL12 -- [ LICENSES ] HORUS Goblin 3, IPS-N Tortuga 2, HA Sherman 3, SSC Dusk Wing 3, IPS-N Raleigh 1 [ CORE BONUSES ] Sloped Plating, Heatfall Coolant System, Auto-Stabilizing Hardpoints, Improved Armament [ TALENTS ] Vanguard 3, Leader 3, Grease Monkey 3, Nuclear Cavalier 3, Combined Arms 2, Empath 1 [ STATS ] HULL:4 AGI:2 SYS:4 ENGI:4 STRUCTURE:4 HP:24 ARMOR:3 STRESS:4 HEATCAP:10 REPAIR:8 TECH ATK:+5 LIMITED:+2 SPD:4 EVA:8 EDEF:14 SENSE:15 SAVE:16 [ WEAPONS ] Integrated: Fuel Rod Gun FLEX MOUNT: Hand Cannon / Hand Cannon MAIN MOUNT: Deck-Sweeper Automatic Shotgun HEAVY MOUNT: ANDROMEDA-Pattern Heavy Laser Rifle // Auto-Stabilizing Hardpoints [ SYSTEMS ] Personalizations, ASURA-Class NHP x3, H0R_OS System Upgrade I, H0R_OS System Upgrade II, Flicker Field Projector, Redundant Systems Upgrade x3, BB Breach/Blast Charges x5

This mech does everything.

It's tough, it's survivable, it can hand out truly obscene amounts of damage. It can create instant Size 2 cover anywhere within Sensors. It can shut down high-power enemies. Every time it moves, the first attack against it has a flat 50% chance to miss. It can give allies +1d6 damage as a reaction. If an enemy so much as sneezes in its vicinity, it will light it up. So long as there are less than five combats in the mission, it can use ASURA every combat. Once per mission, everyone gets a point of Structure repaired and a use of all Limited systems restored for free.

Having the extra Flex with the Hand Cannons allows it to do a truly filthy trick with its Core System. Hyper-Reflex Mode says "any character you hit with Overwatch becomes Immobilized until the end of their next turn." If you Overwatch with a Main/Aux or an Aux/Aux, your first attack in the sequence must be against the enemy who triggered it, but your second attack isn't subject to this restriction, so if someone triggers your Overwatch while HRM is on, you can fire the second Hand Cannon at some rando who's also in range and they both get Immobilized.

It has no melee weapons and needs none thanks to Combined Arms 2, and thanks to Combined Arms 1 it can get soft cover just by being adjacent to an enemy.

With 10 Heat Cap and Heatfall, it can safely Overcharge Loop to fire its Andromeda, and it has a 1-in-3 chance of being able to trigger Nuclear Cavalier every time it does so. Andromeda gets +1 Accuracy automatically.

Switch customized it to have a small fleet of camera drones constantly circling it so that they can livestream all their mech fights, and they always carry an omnihook with them so that they'll be able to connect to the omninet no matter where they are.

This isn't a meme machine. It's a fucking dream machine.

[twisted-wonderland-but-gayer]

Hiya! I've seen your AU!yuus and they're really cool and got me thinking of AUs.

One that's been on my mind is Law&Order!Yuu or Grey's Anatomy!Yuu, I don't know if you know these shows, but the shit they go through is just almost nerve-wracking. Especially the characters on the show such as Olivia Benson and Meredith Grey. They've been through so much and gone through so much shit yet they still continue their job to help people 🥲 So, I just imagine when they come to TWST, they're an adult and they're experienced with trauma, they know how to fight and use a gun, or they know how to use an operated table and treat fatal injuries no matter how bloody it is. Everyday is basically their job just like back in their world, helping people, having more near death experience, while sometimes getting a slap in the face. And for their friends and the overblot gang? There have been many betrayals throughout the gameplay. So for Yuu, I think they'd be a bit more on edge, having trouble to trust. And for getting home? They're tired of Crowley's empty promises, as everyday they're tempted to use tactics from their old job.

Also, another idea I had is if Law&Order!Yuu had a bomb dog back in their world, they would probably teach Grim to be a bomb cat. 💣

I barely watched law and order and do not care for Grey's anatomy (except the book that has been a godsend for my studies). But it did get me thinking of a House MD Yuu. Especially cause magical world = more magical bullshit

Yuu who is the nurse in the school but also doctor in training and Crowley is like, "Good enough. We don't need any more medical personnel" (Yuu is yet again overworked). But what Crowley doesn't know is the amount of medical malpractice and warcrimes being committed because everyone only hears praises

Vil drops off a student like "he's losing brain mass by the day. We have no idea what this is."

Mob student: Hoo boy. I can't wait to go play Overwatch after this

"I have a diagnosis Vil."

Even normal Sage islander people come in for Yuu because they're so good at finding out what's wrong with them. Many occasions of them breaking into houses to figure out more context for stuff. They come back to the doctors office like "were gonna test for STDs I caught your wife cheating"

"Yeah idk what's wrong with me. The doctors say I don't have anything. They tested me and said the tests came back negative." "Actually they're all positive, they just think you don't have it cause you're a woman and theyre less likely to be diagnosed. I'm writing you a prescription and putting this on the record so you can sue your doctor."

Doesn't know a lick of magic or have any context for potionology yet picks it up so fast and had the highest grade in the school for it (Riddle is seething.) Knows an insane amount of magical remedies/diseases despite being from another world just because they skimmed a kids picture book of sicknesses.

Even reads them in other classes.

Crewel lecturing them on standard medical procedure

"OK but did they die?'

"No–"

"So what's the problem?"

"Yuu it is illegal!"

"If I complied to HIPPA, they would've died"

Knows when patients are bullshitting. That one scene where House picks up a cup of piss and drinks it and is like "real nice of you to pour apple juice into this to fake a diagnosis. Now, give us your real sample."

"I tasted the patients blood from the sample. His hemocrit is off. Doesn't have the same flavor, right Lilia" "Hmm yes I agree. So glad to see a youngster practicing old school medicine. They don't let anyone taste the samples anymore..."

"So the patient has had magic acid poured on him and there's no cure? What if... more acid?" It works

"They have been cursed to only wake up by true loves kiss" "mmm no watch this." And Yuu takes out Grim, smears a bit of tuna on the patients lips and lets Grim lick it. Patient wakes up cause it was "true loves kiss" technically.

"Oh no. I must be cursed with ugliness" "ma'am you're cursed with a lack of self-confidence. You are one of the most beautiful people I've seen. Comparison is what is making you think like this. Here. This is the potion of reality I made. Drink it and see what you really look like"

"I have a bad case of stripes..." "Eat Lima Beans."

"Dr. Yu I can't get bottom surgery cause of most potions and surgeries are too dangerous for me." "Here try this I made– disregard that it says Penis Explosion Potion. I just thought it was funny. Works like a charm"

A woman comes in. "I feel like I get so anxious around other girls and—" "I diagnosis you with homosexual but stable"

Kalim gets poisoned one day and is rushed to Yuu and Yuus like "don't worry Jamil, I got this!" It's the strongest, most rare poisons with a 101% perfect death rate with a 1% margin of error. "I know just what to do Jamil stay in the waiting room" "no I have to stay here." "Fine just stay out the way."

Jamil is freaking out at all the odd thing Yuu is hooking Kalim up to and injecting him with before straight up doing a surgery. Everytime Jamil protests it's "do you want him to die?! Quiet!!" The poor man is almost ripping his face off as he watches Yuu mix and pour 18 potions into Kalims stomach and swirls them around which is definitely not legal. Yet Kalims heart rate is stable and he recovers better than ever! Wow not only is he immune to that now but his white blood cells have grown stronger! There's not even a scar!

"I didn't know you were a surgeon Yuu."

"I'm not."

[matchaxberries]

hihii idk when you’ll get around to this, but could you write something about Moira from Overwatch comforting a very upset reader?? not really upset about a specific thing, but the reader is distraught

thanks ^^

Táim Anseo Dhuit

Moira O'Deorain x GN!Reader

Warnings: Maybe OOC Moira? Short, no actual warnings tbh

Being with Moira was, far from easy. Her personality was difficult, and often Angela would come to you asking you to please reason with her for a multitude of reasons. You sit on your two's shared bed, as she works away in her office the room over. You hated how others spoke of Moira, even in front of your face knowing you two had started something official recently. Sometimes the whispers get to you, you can’t help it. You read through the Overwatch agencies group chat, and spot Moira's name from Angela. You read over the not kind words shared between her and others. Tears begin to well up in your eyes, and you lock your phone. A sniff escapes from yourself, and you bring your sleeve up to your eyes attempting to wipe away the tears that threaten to spill.

Moira works away in her medical office, reading and flipping through a clipboard of papers with a small sigh. Her eyes narrow as she sits the clipboard down, pinching the bridge of her nose. She decides to take a small break, and leaves her office dropping her white coat onto the floor behind her. She shuts her lab door, and makes her way into her bedroom where you sit on the bed. As soon as she walks in she can sense there's something wrong. "(Y/n), is something the matter?" She smoothly questions, bed dipping in where she sits by yourself. You look at her with slightly teary eyes, shaking your head no, even though that's obviously not true. She gives a small hum, leaning closer to yourself taking your face into her own hand at the chin, tilting your head up at her; as she sits a bit taller than you on the bed. "A ghrá, if you do not wish to tell me what troubles you that is fine, though do not lie to myself." She places a small kiss onto your lips, eyes staying narrowed with an unreadable expression as she pulls away.

You sniff a bit, leaning your face into Moira's hand that rests at the side of your face, against your cheek. You stare into her bi-colored eyes, and she stares back, not breaking the gaze. She uses her thumb to wipe away tears from your eye, as they slow down to a stop. She gives you a small, half smile, though it looks more like a smirk on herself. “Whenever anything is wrong, (y/n), you may only ask for my help, yes?” Her hand leaves your face, and comes to your hand, she intertwines her slender fingers with yours, and uses her other hand to pet your hair softly, smoothing it out. As her hand sinks into your hair, your worries fade away, the words you read from others leave your mind, and Moira continues her petting at your hair, running her fingers through it, combing it back. You give her a smile, “better now?” She questions yourself.

You nod to her, and squeeze her hand that is interlocked to yours, playing a bit with her fingers. She lightly pulls you forward, herself falling back into the plush mattress you two had been sitting upon, pulling you onto herself to coddle you kindly. It feels uncharacteristic, though you know how her sharp edges soften for you. You lay, head against her chest as she keeps a hand in your hair, her other hand rests at the small of your back. You blink slowly for a moment, then close your eyes shut, beginning to let yourself drift off in Moira’s arms.

© matchaxberries

[You do not have permission to repost, edit, or claim my work as your own/share it on any other platform. Only reblogs are okay.]

Character count: 3,150

A/N: This was so much shorter than I intended, and I know you said reader has no reason for being upset but my brain had an idea and I ran with it 😖 I hope you enjoy! (Also the title means “I am here for you” it’s actually one of her voice lines from the game!)

Masterlist

Request Rules

[volskayadottxt]

After four months of work, we've finally released our zine "We'll Build Our Own Future" for free download HERE!

This was the passion project of writers and artists from the Overwatch fandom--over 40 pieces of art, stories, and comics imagining what might've happened after Invasion.

We decided to create this book because of the love we have for the Story Missions and our appreciation for the workers whose labor created them, as well as our anger and frustration at seeing Microsoft break that team apart after a troubled development cycle for which they weren't responsible for. Coming together as a group and sharing the creative process allowed us to grieve.

What was created for those missions to meant a lot to us. If any of it mattered to you, if the world and characters of Overwatch matter to you, we hope you'll take the time to read our little book.

PS: If there are any things you really like about the book, please let me know! I would love to share it with the participants. :)

[thisblog-hasbeenmoved]

༊*·˚ Until I Say So

CHARACTERS: John Price x M! Reader (F! Reader here)

RATING: NSFW

CONTENTS: Military reader, canon typical violence, Price thinks reader needs a little extra training after they get compromised during a mission, may be inaccuracies in the fighting, porn with plot because I can’t write it without, established relationship, relationship with a superior <3, sparring as foreplay, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, voyeurism (?), multiple orgasms, nicknames used: muppet, darling, love

ೃ⁀➷ WORD COUNT: 2K

“--How copy?” Price’s voice crackled through the comms, rough in all the right places and with just the slightest bit of worry buried deep beneath his impassive tone. It couldn’t be helped, worrying about you came naturally to him, like donning a second skin he couldn’t seem to shed no matter how hard he tried. He really did try. In his line of work, he couldn’t afford to worry, it was a distraction when he needed to be anything but. Distractions could cost a life.

Subconsciously, Price tightened the grip he had on his rifle, trying to convince himself the sudden tension in his body was from the mission itself and not you. Although he really shouldn’t have been tense over that either. The operation was a simple two-person job with him acting as overwatch while you mapped out the interior of a warehouse suspected to be owned by a high-profile cartel. During debriefing Laswell had confirmed that the warehouse would be empty until the following week when shipments would first start arriving.

Meaning it should have been an easy in and out. Childs play really, and yet the silence seemed to stretch eons as he continued to scan the windows of the warehouse, searching for any sign of movement. For any sign of you. The sound of static filtered through the air, startling him, and then your voice came through, low and slightly breathy.

“All good so far Captain. Warehouse appears empty.”

Your voice was like a shot of comfort directly to his nervous system. The tension in his body seemed to fade. His grip slackened but remained steady as he continued searching the windows. “Good. Map the layout and get out. Quickly yeah?” There was the sound of static again and then your hushed laughter- more an exhale than an actual laugh.

“Sounds like you’re worried sir.”

He was. Of course, he was.

“Focus Sergeant.” It wasn’t a direct command but it had the same effect regardless. On the other side of the comms, you fell silent returning your attention back to the objective you’d been given. Eventually, finally, he caught sight of you, moving with the efficiency that had been drilled into you as a rookie.

Price watched as you dipped in and out of side rooms his heart seeming to still until you came back into the focus of his scope standing just in his line of sight. Your head was tilted up towards the window as if you could see him and the thought sent a secret thrill up his spine.

“All finished here sir, heading back your way.”

“Good work, Sergeant.” The praise fell from his lips easily. Like a secret only you were privy to. His words hung briefly between you two disappearing like mist on a summer day as something flashed behind you, a streak of silver turned a blinding white by the moonlight cast through the cracking windows. 

The warehouse was supposed to be empty.

The shadowy figure behind you crumpled to the ground, dead by the silent bullet Price had put through his brain. A moment too late. Just a moment. You looked up through the shattered glass one hand around your neck attempting to stop the blood that leaked through your shaking fingers.

♡ 。 。

Price loomed above you his legs bracketing your hips, keeping you pinned firmly to the floor in a position that was vaguely familiar. He smelled of cigar smoke and sweat, a combination you would have found comfort in had you not been wrestling with him for some semblance of control. You thrashed in his grip fists coming up to connect harshly against his chest. The force of it drew a small wheeze from him that morphed into a growl as he dug the blunt edge of a knife unceremoniously against your neck. It rested just above the jagged scar splitting your throat and when he pressed down just a bit more you felt the warning behind it, gaze finding his in defeat.

He shook his head at the look withdrawing from you, watching as you rolled over, panting from exertion and the vaguest hint of something else. Sweat collected near your hairline and dripped slowly down your nose leaving a dark stain on the mat below you.

“Get up muppet.” The words fell from him, in a harsh bark that had your mind dizzy with the possibilities of what else he could command you to do. Weakly, every bone in your body aching with the movement, you pulled yourself to your feet, stumbling slightly to the side.

“Can’t we take a break Captain?” You wiped the sweat from your brow with the edge of your shirt, the movement revealing a strip of scarred skin. His gaze flickered to it unthinkingly. “I just got dismissed from medical you know.” Your shirt dropped back in place and he frowned simultaneously at the loss of such a sight and your words.

“And why were you put there in the first place Sergeant?” Price challenged. You sighed through your nose and he took that as a sign of defeat gesturing with the plastic knife in a ‘come on’ motion. “Again.” His gaze remained steady on yours as you circled the mat together, each waiting for the other to make the first move.

Taking initiative you lunged for him, your dominant hand swinging out in a messy hook. Price ducked easily beneath the arm you had thrown out, pivoting so he could slam his foot into the back of your knee. You crumpled to the ground hands coming out to catch you, but he dragged you back with his forearm secured around your chest and the knife flat against your throat.

“Compromised again Sergeant.” His voice was a whisper against the shell of your ear. “You’re getting sloppy.”

You squeezed your eyes tightly together trying to fight off the arousal you felt aching between your legs. It’d been there since he’d first walked through the training room doors wearing a compression shirt that showed everything off in just the right way and sweatpants that hung dangerously low. With each press of your bodies together- each struggle for control it’d only intensified turning into a burning heat you needed so desperately to satisfy.

“I’m tired.” You offered in weak defence. The hard muscle of his thigh sat temptingly between your legs and you slowly let yourself relax in his grip, allowing you to subtly grind against his leg.

“Tired eh?” Price brought his thigh up pressing harder into your semi-hard cock and drawing a whimper from your lips as you met him halfway. Maybe not so subtle then. The knife tumbled to the floor as he settled his hands on your hips helping assist in the slow grind of you against him. Your chin dropped towards your chest at the sensation, thighs burning with the effort of keeping you upright. Price slid a hand beneath your jaw forcing your head up and turning it towards him so he could bring your mouth to his in a heated kiss. It was lazy on your part, your body sluggish from the training you’d gone through, and when you pulled back your eyes remained half-lidded.

Price smiled at the look. “You truly are a sight for sore eyes darlin’.”

The compliment did nothing but fuel your desperation. You arched further into him, nose brushing the skin of his throat. “I need you.” It was a quiet plea. A beg for him to relieve you of your own painful arousal. His hand slid beneath the band of your sweatpants teasingly and you thought for a moment he just might, but his fingers skimmed across your clothed cock with barely-there touches.

“Now?” He applied the slightest bit of pressure and you squirmed, hips rocking against his hand desperately. “Where anyone could see you?” You nodded pathetically, grinding yourself downwards in search of something more but it wasn’t enough.

“Fuckin’ tease.” Price chuckled as he hauled you off his lap, repositioning you so you were laid out flat on your back. He slid your sweatpants and underwear down to your ankles, revealing more of you to his hungry gaze. Every inch of your skin was intoxicating, each scar and blemish stirring something in him.

His cock was heavy in his hands and unsurprisingly hard as he angled it against your entrance. You grabbed for the back of his neck nails scraping against the short hair there as he entered you. It wasn’t slow by any means and it burned with every inch he forced forward but it was good. So good. Your eyes fluttered closed nails digging into his scalp as he rocked against you. It was rough, needy almost. His fingers dug into your sides pulling you in, each thrust opening you further.

“I was worried about you.” Price confessed on a particularly hard thrust that had your eyes rolling back into your head. “Bloody bastard should have never touched you.” His voice was thick with emotion, a sound so rare it had your eyes blearily finding his.

“Wasn’t your fault-” You whined attempting to lift your head up but failing miserably as he fucked you harshly into the mat. Clumsily you sought out his hand squeezing it reassuringly, the touch the best you could offer when he was filling you so completely. Price seemed to understand though. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your temple, his beard scraping against your skin.

“Won’t happen again yeah?”

There was a sureness to his words, a casual confidence that left no room for argument. Although- you certainly were in no position to argue as it was. Price somehow sensing your impending orgasm soothed a hand down your sweaty face, eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled down at you. “Go on love, I know you’re close.” His words and the look on his face were horribly tender, a startling contrast to the way his hips snapped against yours, rough and without mercy.

Your legs tightened around his waist drawing him closer to you as you came. Price didn’t slow in the slightest bit. If anything he picked up in pace watching the way your eyes flew open. Overstimulation drew you up onto your forearms, one hand shooting out to steady yourself on his shoulder.

“John!”

He chuckled the sound lost in the skin of your neck. Each drag of his cock felt like heaven and hell all at once. The overstimulation was bringing you back up to that previous peak quicker than you could form the words for. It didn’t help either the way he continued to stroke your cock, drawing his thumb in lazy circles across the leaking tip and delighting at the pitiful sounds it drew from you. You were already hard again. Painfully so.

“You gonna come again, love?” You nodded chest heaving with the effort of drawing air into your poor lungs. Price nipped at the junction between your neck and shoulder smiling. “Good.” He continued rutting into you, the slick sounds of his hand around your cock obscene in the empty training room. At this point, you were halfway into his lap and each thrust imprinted the shape of his cock to your insides leaving you a stuttering mess of his name.

Exactly how he liked you.

Your second orgasm was stronger than the first and had you clenching around his cock almost painfully. Price cursed lowly slowing his thrusts to help draw it out, until you finally collapsed against him, legs twitching and breaths coming in short puffs. He lifted you slowly off him and you sighed in relief. His cock brushed against your stomach still leaking precum. Lazily you reached between your bodies intent on finishing him off with your hand but he swatted it away.

“On your stomach love. Ass up.”

The fucked out haze of your mind swirled curiously trying to process his words. You lifted your head searching his eyes in confusion. “Sir?” You asked voice shaky, looking every bit the fucked out mess you were.

Price couldn’t help the sick satisfaction he felt at being able to reduce you to such a state. “C’mon Sergeant,” He eased you up and then pushed you onto your stomach, your face pressed uncomfortably to the mat. “I’m not done with you yet.”

A/N: I’m honestly not too happy with how this turned out but it’s been sitting in my draft for like a month lmao. As always though thank you so much for taking the time to read this mess- have a lovely lovely day

[acradelius]

Roadhog smut where Reader has a kink for being praised?

"Such A Good Little Piggy~"

Fandom: Overwatch / Overwatch 2

Pairing: Roadhog ("Mako Rutledge") x Gender Neutral! Reader

Rating: Lemon [🟡] - (NSFW!)

Warnings/Mention Ofs: MDNI, Gender Neutral! Reader, They/Them Pronouns Used For Reader, Soft! Dominant! Roadhog, Verbal Praise Kink, Verbal Praise - Roadhog Giving/Reader Receiving, Reader Gets Called Gorgeous- Still Gender Neutral, Nickname Usage, Spanking, Roadhog Being Slightly Commanding.

Word Count: 516 Words

Taglist: @masterofpuns

(It took longer than expected to get this out because I thought I was doing the tagging/mentioning system wrong, lol)

If you'd like to be tagged for all posts, certain fandom posts, or certain character posts then feel free to message me!

“..and here you said that you wouldn’t be able to take such a thick, enormous cock~'' There's a taunting, teasing tone within the words that Mako speaks, followed by a chuckle of mere amusement, as he watches his poor, little (Y/N) squirming underneath his own bulky size in an attempt to adjust to the seemingly never-ending length of Mako’s cock. A bright, flustered blush covering their cheeks while their eyes are slightly blown from the pleasure that’s coursing throughout their system. “..looking so gorgeous down there as you continue to try to handle all of me~ Such a good Little Piggy, aren’t you?~” His words, that gravelly tone of voice, especially whenever he would praise them, conjures up a loud, almost desperate moan from (Y/N)’s lips. Slowly, but surely, inch after inch (Y/N) manages to take from Mako, a pleasurable pressure becoming a bit more intense the more that they take, until there’s a sigh of relief that escapes the heavyset man above them. “Managed to take it all, huh?~ All the way to the base, Little Piggy~ It drives me absolutely wild whenever you’re able to take me all like this~”

It was almost an addiction, the emotions that were at an all time high within (Y/N), combined with the consistent pleasure that came along with arching their back just right and beginning to move their hips in a - circular motion. While the movement from Mako himself was appreciated, causing a brief high pitched cry to escape out into the open from the occasional quick, rough thrust, Mako really wouldn’t have to do anything at this point. (Y/N) was doing everything on their own. It definitely was a sight, a sight that he would make sure to engrain within his memories. “That’s my good Piggy~ Rock your hips just like that~” Another firm slap to their ass, another soft moan that leaves their lips. “Good, good~ Now, how about you go faster?~ I know that you can take it~"

“I’m so proud of you for taking my cock so well, (Y/N)~ You’ve done so well to please me so far~ How about you give yourself a well deserved break and let Daddy Pig take the reins, hm?~ I’ll take such good care of you as you have been taking such good care of me~” Mako doesn’t bother to even give (Y/N) the chance to respond before he places his enormous hands upon (Y/N)’s hips, having a tight grip before he begins setting a quick, yet gentle pace as he thrusts. It doesn’t matter though. Between the physical pleasure that he was bestowing upon (Y/N), and the constant praise that he was giving, (Y/N) was feeling as if they were on Cloud Nine, and wouldn’t want it any other way. Slightly blown pupils from the lust and arousal that coursed throughout their system, and the large grin that was gracing their lips, it was obvious to tell that they were enjoying it. “Such a good, little Piggy, I am~ Such a good, little Piggy~”

[ahoysteviex]

WRITING COMMISSIONS OPEN‼️IN FINANCIAL DISTRESS

Hello everyone. I'm opening writing commissions because I am in dire financial distress right now. PLEASE consider hiring me or donating to me right now. My family NEEDS help.

MY SITUATION:

I am currently living with my family and we are living with relatives. My father has been nonstop searching for work and getting nothing in return. He will get interviewed sometimes and despite being more than qualified and the interview going well, he won't get the job. My mother is disabled and can only work part time but has also not had any luck getting part time work. I have a younger sister who has to be taken out of school and put into online school because we cannot afford gas to drive her to and from school every day. My mother just got discharged from the hospital two days ago after having surgery to have her thyroid removed because she had thyroid cancer. She's an amputee and cannot afford the supplies for her prosthesis. We have a phone bill to pay as well as a storage unit payment for a unit with all of our stuff in it that we'll lose if we cannot make the payment.

To make matters worse, my maternal grandparents are evil people (I can make a separate post explaining this situation further if need be) and had it out for my parents for months. They are emotionally and mentally abusive and manipulative people. Last month, they started a loud, heated argument, as is typical for them. It was relatively short, but eventually my father leaned over and slammed the bedroom door. Honestly, "slammed" even feels like a stretch. But my grandparents called the police and lied to them by saying my dad slammed my grandfather's hand in the door. The police arrested my dad over this despite there being little to no physical evidence and my mother, sister, and I all testifying that it was not true. This happened the weekend before Christmas. My great uncle was able to call in a friend and get my dad released from jail, but he's going to have to sign bonds papers tomorrow and we do not have the $350 they're asking for, so my father may be detained again. He is just getting his foot in the door at Wal-Mart and is waiting on them to call him to finish his onboarding process and this is throwing a wrench into all that.

We're trying desperately to get on our feet. We want to move in to a place of our own. But it's just one misfortune after another. We need money to pay for my mom's medical expenses, our storage unit, our phone service/Internet, gas, and now legal expenses to keep my dad with us. And that doesn't even touch on the car trouble.

MY WRITING:

These commissions are a desperate attempt to help myself and my family, as writing is my only real skill.

I have experience writing for OR would be able to write for the following fandoms:

Stranger Things

Arcane

Texas Chainsaw Massacre

Scream (1994)

Apex Legends

Overwatch

God of War (4 & 5)

Baulder's Gate 3

Dead by Daylight

Cyberpunk 2077

Disco Elysium

My Chemical Romance

Panic! at the Disco

Fall Out Boy

One Direction

I'm proficient in romance, angst, fluff, domestic/familial, and NSFW. I'll write basically anything as long as it isn't a NSFW situation involving minors or animals. I'll write Canon Character x Canon Character, Original Character x Canon Character, and Reader Insert. I'll even do those little head-canon posts. Anything, I just need commissions.

You can find examples of my work on Ao3 here, or under my "my writing" tag here on Tumblr.

I will also beta read for you!

Here is my ko-fi.

Please use that to buy a commission from me! You can also donate there without buying a commission if you want to do that too. And if you aren't in a position to help financially, PLEASE reblog this post to get more eyeballs on it so that other people are given the opportunity to help me.

Thank you for reading. ❤️‍🔥

[theyanderespecialist]

Base Yandere Moira Headcanons: Your Fate Is Sealed (Overwatch)

[Hello, My Sexy Muffins! I am here with a new chapter, this is one with Moira! Happy Saint Patrick's Day!]  (Disclaimer: Moira is not yandere in canon! This is just for fun and not to be taken seriously at all! Simping for fictional characters and yanderes is fine! Just do not be illegal or gross about it! You know who you are! You Dirty, Flaky, Biscuits! Yanderes are not ideal partners to have in real life! Also, remember to separate fiction from reality and headcanon from canon! Thank you!)  -Base Yandere Headcanons With Yandere Moira X Gender-Neutral Reader From Overwatch- 

.Moira is a woman who is a bit obsessed with herself and thinks that she is way superior to mostly everyone else. 

.She started working for Overwatch, but was fired, but Gabriel Reyes brought her into Blackwatch where she did her job and her research.  .But this was enough for her, she wanted more, so she experimented on herself and on fellow Blackwatch members. 

.She was focused on having the next stage of human evolution which would be from the science and test she runs. 

.She was going to fix humans and she would do whatever it took to get there. 

.She joined Talon and was one of the main reasons that Overwatch fell. 

.She was going to change the world and she did not care what she had to do to get to it! 

.She met you, a stunning person who was perfect in every single way~ 

.She knew she had you and she was going to have you, Mark her words. 

.She would have a Talon member to keep an eye on you for her, but also she would have cameras in your home and workplace. 

.So that she knows that you are safe and sound and when she has the time she will be watching you herself. 

.She loves you and wants to make sure that you are taken care of, but at some point, she will kidnap you to make sure you do not leave her side. 

.She is the type of yandere that believes she is the only one good enough for you, and that you are almost perfect~ 

.You just had to learn that you belonged to her and then you would be perfection. 

.She is more than willing to make you perfect and she is not going to stop until you are perfect and that you are here and her alone. 

.She is very much the type that would experiment on you, she is going to find a way to make you and her both immortal so that you and her would be able to be together for literally forever. 

.Even when all human life and all that is left is the animal and omnics, you and her will be the only humans left in the entire world. 

.She would make sure that you and she were always together, you did not have a choice in the matter. 

.She would deal with rivals by making them into human test subjects, where they would NOT be treated well at all. They are treated way worse than animals, I am talking War Crimes type of treatment. 

.She would make sure they suffered greatly, but they would have also been put to "good" use to help humanity get better. 

.But also she would have used them as test subjects to find a way for you and her to be immortal so that she and you can always be together. 

.In her mind they were a much-needed sacrifice so that she and you could live happily together. 

.She would be a very controlling yandere one who does not let you out of her sight of let you do anything. 

.You can expect you will be locked in a room which has cameras as well and has it where you never have to leave it. 

.Not unless you are with her. She would also have put a tracker in you, so if you were ever silly and tried to run from her, she would be able to find you easily and bring you back, where she would punish you. 

.That is right she is going to punish you a lot for daring to leave her, in any way shape, or form. 

.She might even try and erase your memories before her, so that you have no memories about anyone except for her. 

.She is also a yandere who is extremely manipulative she is going to manipulate you into being a good partner for her. 

.You once again do not have a choice, she is giving you no choices, all you must do is to learn to accept her love and everything will be easier that way. 

.She confesses her love to you after kidnapping you, telling you that she loves you and that you belong to her. Not anyone else. 

.She does not care if you do not accept her love like I said before you did not have a choice in the matter. 

.Although if you do accept her love it will go a lot smoother for you, and you will earn some privileges. She of course will still have you be almost treated like a human pet. 

.Yes, she sees that she owns you and you are like a pet of hers and that it Is her job to take care of you and keep you by her side. 

.If you say no, and fight her on her love for you you can bet that it will be so much harder for you. 

.I am talking strapped down to the bed and shock collar type of stuff. 

.you are hers and if she has to train you to be a good partner then that is what she will do. 

.Like I said she would erase your memories about your family and life before her. 

.Maybe even do it with electro-shock therapy. 

.She needs to make sure that you only think of her and only love her. 

.So she will do everything it takes to make you love her and her alone. 

.In the end, she is really dangerous as a yandere and willing to use science to make you submit to her and make you love her. 

.She also once again will make you and her immortal and you will be with her for all of eternity, it does not matter where you go or where you hide. 

.She will find you and make you hers, also if you try and run too many times, cybernetic prosthetics have come a long way, and you could easily lose the right to your limbs if you keep up trying to run away from her. 

.Your fate is sealed when Moira falls into obsessive love with you. 

[YASSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS Another chapter is done! I hope you all enjoyed this, and stay sexy, all of my sexy muffins!] 

[leam1983]

2024 in Gaming

Helldivers 2: it's become a running joke with the polycule, and approval with Progressive opinions or talking points now gets at least one of the three of us to jokingly pull out their smartphone to "call their Democracy Officer to report a case of treasonous activity"...

Walt isn't any better, but he's unlocked a few rocket-propelled weapons and now feels better sitting behind myself and Sarah while pelting the enemies ahead with weaponized Freedom.

Balatro: Walt and I's new favourite casual game, wherein appearance of it being a cutesy little variant on Poker suites turns into virtual crack. I've woken up in the wee hours to Walt's face bathed in his phone's OLED screen. When I ask him what's wrong, he typically replies something to the tune of "I need four thousand Chips, babe."

Marvel Rivals: it does what Overwatch 2 don't. As in, it's fun. Me, Walt, Sarah and a few of the boys on an all-Rocket Raccon match? You betcha! Also, there's Jeff the Land Shark, and Jeff the Land Shark deserves the world. Nay, the universe.

Astro Bot: didn't finish it, but I loved what Team Asobi cooked up. It's the most genuine, heartfelt, cutesy and engaging piece of corporate PR and Engineering porn to ever exist. Every button pressed during an Astro Bot session twiddles Mark Cerny's fun bits remotely.

Elden Ring - Shadow of the Erdtree: bought it because I approve of the design ethos behind this DLC's existence, never played it because I suuck at FromSoft games. I made sure to watch some related content so I could point and laugh awkwardly if friends of mine greet me with a random cry of "BAYYYYLE!"

Worshippers of Chtulhu: Anno with a Lovecraftian twist. It's very broken, still very much in Early Access, but the promise is definitely there.

Park Beyond: Meh. Got it for cheap, I guess we're still not getting a decent heirloom to Roller Coaster Tycoon, after the Micromanagement nightmare that Planet Coaster turned out to be for me.

1000xResist: basically a Yoko Taro game not written or directed by Yoko Taro, and it's one of the deeper game-based experiences I've had in a long while. Strongly recommended.

The Cabin Factory: Spot the Difference for easily-frightened streamers who haven't played Exit 8 yet. It has an interesting narrative format and is one of the more surprising implementations of Unity Engine I've seen to date. I could've sworn this was a UE5 project! Beyond that, it's nothing special, but it's priced accordingly.

Clickolding: if Cookie Clicker had an uncanny sense of atmosphere and managed to creep you out with nothing except a sparsely-animated antagonist and a rising click counter, you'd have a sense of what this feels like. It does a very effective job at making you want to be as compliant and possible.

Daemonologie: The Salem Witch Trials in game form, or Ace Attorney if Phoenix wore a Quaker hat and had a fixation on nakey women doing odd shit in the forest. Very tense and minimalist, and very, very worthwhile.

Cryptmaster: it's basically a spruced-up oldschool MUD, with 3D black-and-white graphics and four zombified D&D character archetypes you control simultaneously, by either using your Arrow keys to move the entire party at once, or typing in the words that correspond to abilities or attacks. Very, very, very British humour is on offer, along with a script-writer that managed to predict most stupidly filthy prompts you're likely to try at any given point. It's hilarious and kludgey in just the right way, especially if you remember the nineties' MindMaze on Encarta '95.

Liar's Bar: Russian Roulette for Furries with a decent voIP chat integration. It's shallow and stupid fun, and the subject matter makes people behave in increasingly crude ways as the session goes on. If you're like me, you'll swear you played a round or two against a guy who was actually stone-dead-drunk and who actually had nothing to lose...

Silent Hill 2 Remake: finally, Silent Hill's fog doesn't feel like a performance-saving measure and actually creeps me the fuck out. It makes me feel terrible and has me contemplate not playing it, but it does make sense. Kudos to Bloober Team for finally manage to ground this one heck of a weirdo title.

Indiana Jones and the Great Circle: take Kingdom of the Crystal Skull and Dial of Destiny, burn all copies, consign the masters to Disney's oubliette, thank Harrison Ford for his decades of diligent service and pass the fedora and bullwhip to Troy Baker, 'cause Machine Games and Bethesda have managed to find themselves yet another prime title to fuck Fascists up using fisticuffs or blunt weaponry. It's a great callback to Machine Games' own contribution to Deus Ex: Mankind Divided, seeing as every single level in the game has the granular detail of their version of Prague. Slap some John Williams on, add the authentic audio samples for whip cracks and punches, lifted straight out of the movies. I haven't had as much fun raiding tombs or poking through lovingly-reconstructed real places since Nolan North last lent his voice pipes to Nathan Drake.

Imagine my surprise, when the Sistine Chapel turned out to be about the size of our condo building's parking lot! That's tiny! The more you know, I guess!

Star Wars Outlaws: this is what happens when a studio really, really, really wants to give the IP due diligence, but its decades of re-iterated design docs ruin the experience. Kay Vess isn't a galactic scoundrel; she's basically every Far Cry protagonist ever, except in third-person!

The Forever Winter: all crunch, no fun. An incredibly engaging premise, but the mistaken notion that the average gamer has several three-to-four-blocks to devote to this each and every single day. Worth at least a YouTube ride-along, to see the incredible work the Art Design team's pulled together.

Disney's Epic Mickey - Rebrushed: Warren Spector's poorly-received baby and love letter to classic animation gets its just desserts on PC. It's not super complex with only two basic mechanics based off of two buttons on a controller, but it managed to use an extremely limited toolset to great effect, even throwing in what feels like a younger relative's first potential exposure to the Immersive Sim concept of looking for unmarked routes through a level. The in-between side-scrolling levels are oozing charm, and essentially feel like some part of Spector wanted to play in the same ballpark as American McGee's Alice.

If anything, it cements the idea that non-verbal instances of Mickey Mouse should never be left in the same room as a magical implement or toolset. Ever. Verbal Mickeys can push past their childlike glee and reason accordingly, but the oldschool button-eyed and non-verbal originator is not to be trusted.

STALKER 2: Heart of Chernobyl: Have fun losing half your health because the ARMA-esque mechanics decide that grazing damage means holy shit, you almost died! Especially, have fun getting knocked flat out on your ass by mutants - over and over and over...

To be played in subtitled Ukranian out of implicit support, and to have fun with the Slavic definition of an acting range. It's like watching the second season of Squid Game, except you get the sense that their scale goes from Nonchalant to Pants-Pissingly Terrified with very little grading in-between.

And now, for Games I didn't really get into until 2024...

Valfaris and Valfaris II: Mecha Therion: side-scrollers that do their damndest to look like they stepped straight out of the pages of Heavy Metal as of the mid-eighties. Gorgeously grotesque pixel art meets with a banging soundtrack made up of certified shredders. The lead headbangs and throws the horns when he finishes a stage!

Brütal Legend: an oldie but a goodie, previously constrained to the PS3 but now quite cozy on my Steam Deck. It's got a semi-cohesive grab-bag of mechanics, sure, but it's got even more heart, along with a pre-stroke Tim Curry voicing the villain with the gooiest of all countenances. Imagine Shere Khan, but Metal as fuck.

Katamari Damacy: Re-Roll: I barely touched the original when it came out. Having managed to grab the PC port for cheap and knowing how well it plays with a Steam Deck, the Prince of All Cosmos' ball-rolling sojourn across the surface of our planet has turned into a nightly staple for me.

Baldur's Gate 3: Yes, I know, I'm late, you've all banged Astarion sixteen times by now, but I've got time for a long-form WRPG right now. I might not have this much free time once January 10th rolls around.

The Night Cage: not a vidya, but a really nerve-wracking tabletop game that's made for quite a few fun Friday nights at La Casa de Gremlin.

On My Backlog, You'll Find...

Metaphor: Re-Fantazio: I know it's beloved by all, but it feels so "so far, so ATLUS" to me, and I still haven't gotten over P4, P3 and P5's excellent PC ports. I also have Shin Megami Tensei: Nocturne to go through, so I really don't know if I have it in me to tackle something in that same vein quite so soon.

Arizona Sunshine 1 & 2: I just can't be bothered to set up my Oculus Rift 2's Link Cable. I have the games, I just don't know if and when I'll play them.

Dead Rising Deluxe Remaster: I'm waiting until my old cheese strats fade into the back of my mind before I tackle this one. Plus, I'm torn about Frank West not being voiced by TJ Rotolo. He doesn't just... feels like he's covered wars, y'know?

Frostpunk 2: bought it to support the devs, am just not jazzed about having to sort of network my way across several simultaneous points of origin until the depressing version of a Dieselpunk sprawl covers the map.

The Yakuza series on Amazon Prime: SEGA's trying to become the Disney of gaming, but something about Kazuma Kiryu's story (or stories) have always felt distinctly and uniquely Japanese to me. As in, it requires a specific mindset and might not be for everyone. I'm waiting for a sign, basically - maybe one to pop my collar and rent a karaoke machine so I can belt out maudlin soliloquies to lost childhood innocence while smoking half a pack of cigs between every third or fourth stanza...

The Sonic Movies: yeah, sure, I'm in my forties, but Jim Carrey's going through a career renaissance by acting out Albert Einstein on crack. Yeah, sure, it's not either of my Robotniks (the Jim Cummings or Long John Baldry versions - for the memes) - but it seems like it might still be a trilogy of adaptations worth pursuing.

Plus, hey, I gotta start catching up on that Stobotnik shit, huh?

[illeaadante]

How I think Vulcans react to games

Vulcans definitely play games, because rest and relaxation are necessary to maintain cognitive function and games offer a way to do that as well as socialize and strengthen bonds between individuals. Multitasking is only logical. However, there are distinct preferences:

Chess - 2d or 3d doesn't matter, this is the introductory game for vulcan children because it has rigid rules and memorizable strategies and patterns. TBH I think vulcans stop playing chess with each other when the child completes all of the strategies and they only bring out the board again if they need something mindless to do with their hands OR they are playing against a non-vulcan. The non-vulcan basically never wins, but it's more interesting to play against someone who hasn't memorized all of the gambits.

Poker/any gambling card game - like that one other post said, Vulcans descend on poker like a pack of hyena. Competitive applied statistics and emotional suppression? That is their whole deal. Ignoring the illogic of actually gambling, Vulcans clean up any casino.

Tetris - oh you know that vulcans love tetris. The satisfaction of clearing lines and putting blocks in perfect order? Catnip. Vulcatnip.

Tetris 99 - tetris with a side of competition? Hell, yes. Vulcans playing tetris 99 is like when all of those old people were absolutely schooling twitch streamers when the game first came out.

Bejeweled/match 3 - I think vulcans would find it as soothing as a lot of humans do.

Tower defense - an extension of their preference for chess. Now, instead of one opponent with the same pieces, it's ever increasing waves of enemies.

Resource management games - any of them. I feel that that is another extension of chess preference and Vulcans can absolutely clean up at tournaments.

Fighting games - this ones a bit tricky and there's a lot of variation. Some vulcans would definitely be on the 'no items, final destination' side of the argument while others would insist it is illogical to turn items off because you should use everything available to you. Some vulcans prefer simpler fighting games with what they perceive as more logical movesets while others prefer the flexibility and complexity of the more out there games. Also yes, i know vulcans are pacifists, but claiming that playing a game goes against a person's pacifism is illogical.

Team Shooters - imagine going up against a team of Vulcans in CoD or Overwatch. Imagine it. Hilarious and terrifying. They do worse against the casual gamers than the pros just because the casuals are more likely to fuck up in illogical ways.

Then there are the games that I think don't exist in the Vulcan zeitgeist, or only for anthropologists and freaks:

RPGs - specifically single player RPGs, like dating sims. Dating sims would exist on vulcan purely for anthropological reasons, but other RPGs wouldn't catch on at all. They just don't get why someone would pretend to be a character for the purposes of entertaining oneself. Tabletop RPGs are just like doing theater, but with more math, so they can understand that a bit. I can see some Vulcans agreeing to play MMORPGs to make their non-vulcan friends happy, but it's never a big thing in Vulcan culture.

puzzle games - you would think, just as a knee-jerk reaction, that vulcans would love puzzle games. You would be very wrong. Most Humans find the logic in puzzle games lacking, it would be torture to a vulcan.

Hidden object games - this one is polarizing. I'm sure that some Vulcans are VERY good at hidden object games and find the removal of those objects satisfying, but I'm just as sure that other Vulcans find the placement of those objects in the first place illogical enough to be rage-quit inducing... if vulcans were prone to rage-quitting, of course.

Point and Click Adventure games - like puzzle games, but even worse. Vulcan Guantanamo Bay is being forced to play Room Escape games for a week.

[pochipop]

＃OVERWATCH !! ♡ — LION TAMING (MOIRA X READER).

#. synopsis! — here you are again. there she is. but at what cost? and just who has she become while she's been so far away? and worse yet, what happens if it just doesn't seem to matter?

#. characters! — moira .

#. warnings! — angst, explicit and substantial age gap, mentions of bodily wounds + war .

#. word count! — 4.4k .

#. others! — navigation & masterlist .

#. alt accounts! — @ddollipop (nsfw), @hhoneypop (moodboards) .

It’s been a long time since you last saw Moira, —before the fall of Overwatch, before the world divulged into more madness than anyone knew what to do with. It’s been years since you were taken off duty, but not a day has gone by that you haven’t felt like a soldier. Wherever you go, the memories linger, and they tie you down like cinder blocks always trapped around your feet. You’ve tried therapy and medications, yoga and meditation; even flew out to some tropical island unmarred by the vestiges of war for a while, only to find that it wasn’t a matter of where you were or what you were surrounding yourself with.

No, in the bitter end, the truth was that it was you.

You and your mountain of feelings that no psychologist could shave down, because you didn’t know where to begin. You and the itch that lingered during times of peace, because you yearned for conflict, even if you’d spent too much of your life now trying to snuff it out. You and your incessant inability to thrive without feeling like a time bomb.

Now, the scientist you first met when you were both younger and a bit less wise, stands before you. . . Or, above you anyway, leering down at your form, taking your face in as if she’s trying to recall where she knows you from. She’s as intimidating as ever, those sharp, dual-colored eyes and that scarily pointed stare directed right at you. Once upon a time, it felt nice to be the center of her attention. You were fresh faced and newly twenty one, and she was a few years over forty, though she didn’t look it. You stood with your back painfully straight, posture perfect, eyes directly ahead, and she’d seen right through all the training and the uniform you wore with such a stupid amount of pride.

Her tone is much the same as it was back then as she leans down now, crouching at your side.

“Long time no see, luch beag.”

You can’t help but scowl at the nickname. You never protested it before, content to be her precious, foolish little mouse when the barracks got too full for your liking and you’d shack up with her in the Overwatch laboratories. She’d go on and on about new discoveries and shimmering breakthroughs, —and you’d sit there on the edge of her desk, just listening and nodding along. Your skills were in reconnaissance, mostly, though you had an okay eye for sniping if it came down to the wire, and your close combat was acceptable in spite of its mediocrity. A few times, you’d even done espionage missions with varying degrees of success. All of that to say: Moira’s work was above your pay grade.

Still, you never minded giving her an audience. She was good at putting on a show, so endlessly enthusiastic about her work and all the ways she was bending the world around her. You wish she’d have been even half as enthusiastic about the way she wore you down.

“Talon?” You question, venom in your tone. “Really?”

You’re disappointed, but can’t say you’re surprised. Moira always had an uncanny ability to move through the world like it was hers to mold and snap and kiss just right under dim computer lights—

“Spare me the lecture,” she answers bluntly. “You’re hardly in any position to be passing judgement.”

Her eyes trail from your face to the wound you’re clutching on your abdomen. When the first of many explosions had gone off, you’d been separated from the rest of your group. It was some stupid vigilante sector working to take back control of Oasis. A pointless pipedream, and you knew it, but you needed the rush, needed to be out on the field again, working, doing something. Discharge had left you stir crazy, and you were done trying to find yourself in tattered self-help books that insisted drinking more water and spending more time with the friends you didn’t have would make you happy enough to leave this life behind you.

That was the problem, really. . . You didn’t want to leave it behind. You liked the adrenaline and the thrill of knowing your life was on the line, and even now, with some big chunk of metal embedded in your stomach, you enjoyed this. In some strange, twisted way, this was where you felt at home.

“You never did know when to quit,” she tells you, a smirk pulling at the edge of her lips.

“Oh, and you do?” You retort.

Her smirk fades, and you almost wish you hadn’t said that.

“I at the very least have a sense of self-preservation,” she answers plainly. “Something you still seem to lack. Severely.”

“Whatever, Moira,” you mutter, letting your tired head drop back onto the rubble behind you.

“Very mature,” she says, sarcasm dripping from her tongue.

Even now, a part of you wants to lick it off.

“On a scale of one to ten, how much pain are you in?”

You huff a little, staring up at the late evening sky. Stars have timidly begun to emerge from behind whisping clouds, and you’re reminded that this little unit you traveled here with couldn’t have cared less about you. They held no loyalty to you. You were expendable. . . And worst of all, you don’t even have the energy to be upset about it.

“Like a six,” you shrug.

You’ve definitely been through worse.

She raises a brow, reaching out to gently pull your hand away. The jostling, slight as it may be, makes you wince.

“Okay, Jesus, maybe a seven,” you correct, taking a sharp breath in.

The air is chilly against your skin, and especially so against the jagged gash in your clothing that gives way to the explosion’s cruel momento lodged in your skin. Moira’s nimble fingers gently explore the area, making use of whatever shreds of daylight are left. A sizable piece of metal is embedded in your stomach, roughly an inch above your belly button. The wound is angry and inflamed with dry blood crusting around the edges. She doesn’t ask how long you’ve been stuck here, and you’re trying not to think about it.

Moira sighs in both frustration and what you can only assume is concern. Maybe it’s all frustration and you’re just holding onto the past, —but either way, she looks toward your face again to speak.

“It’s obviously not fatal, but I can’t imagine it feels very nice,” she states.

“No, it feels like there’s metal in my stomach,” you answer sarcastically.

“Lovely to see your sense of humor hasn’t gotten any better since we last spoke,” she comments.

“Oh, so sorry,” you roll your eyes, “it’s just that if I laugh, I think this fucking thing might puncture one of my kidneys.”

“Small intestine would be more likely.”

You have to bite your lip to stop yourself from giggling, and once again you’d really like to think there’s something just short of fondness flashing in her eyes.

She moves with clinical precision, checking you over, trying to do as little damage as possible in the process.

“You always did have a knack for finding trouble,” she comments, tone a curious blend of amusement and camaraderie.

For a minute, it’s almost too easy to pretend like you’re still that young recruit seeking shelter from your training and the gossip of the barracks in her lab, or the corporal who snuck away to lie in her bed at night. Those were really the glory days, —when your life was always in the balance, hanging by a thread, waiting to be snapped by either an enemy bullet or a quick slice from one of Moira’s long, pointed nails.

“Trouble has a way of finding me,” you muse, offering a half-hearted shrug that sends a twinge of pain bursting through your abdomen.

You grimace, then find your voice again.

“I’m just trying to keep it entertained.”

She laughs, low and from the chest, shaking her head.

“You’ve certainly excelled at that,” she remarks.

There’s a brief silence as she continues to check you over, assessing the damage. As she so gracefully pointed out just a bit ago, it’s not fatal. It’s not deep enough to leave you bleeding out, —but it damn sure doesn’t feel nice. Aside from that, you’re no doctor, but you’re pretty certain a wound like this open in a war-torn city is just a recipe for utter disaster, especially given its placement.

“So then,” she muses, “how’d you get yourself in this position?”

“Take a wild guess,” you reply, gesturing to the blown up buildings and roadways around you.

“That much is obvious,” she answers. “I’m asking why you’re even here in the first place. You must know how dangerous this area is. I’d like to think you’re not naive enough to have been working with that ragtag bunch of so-called rebels.” 

You frown. It’s hard not to when you know she’s right. You’re better than this, —better than putting your neck (and apparently your abdomen) on the line for people who would leave you behind without a second thought. Nobody came back for you. Either they all failed and were blown to pieces in record time, or they’d gone on without you and couldn’t have cared less about the person they left sifting through the wreckage to survive.

“We all make choices,” you mumble bitterly.

“Clearly. I just never pegged you as someone who’d make such a stupid one.”

You don’t answer.

“Did you really miss all of this so horribly? Enough to come out here, underprepared with a pack of morons who don’t have two braincells to rub together between them?” She questions.

“I needed something,” you snap a little. “I was losing my mind. Call me what you like, but I’d rather be here with this shit stuffed in my gut than be back home doing nothing. It doesn’t even matter what I’m fighting for anymore, just as long as it scratches the itch. I thought the chaos might give me some goddamn purpose, and I feel like you of all people should be able to understand that.”

She looks unimpressed by the reply.

“And now?” She presses. “Found your purpose, or just more chaos?”

You purse your lips into a tight line for a moment.

“Definitely more chaos, and not even the good kind,” you admit. “At this point, I’m less of a person and more of a walking disaster. Just a casualty of my own recklessness.”

Moira seems almost sympathetic as she regards you now, for whatever that’s worth coming from her.

“You’re not the first to fall for the high of it hook, line, and sinker, and you won’t be the last,” she says. “War has a dastardly way of distorting motivations. You’ve turned your personal desires into misguided ideals. But. . .” she pauses, offering you the slightest hint of a smile, “you’re still alive and breathing. That has to count for something.”

“Can’t say it feels like much right now,” you answer honestly. “Just look at me. A heartbeat away from strung out, left for dead by the same people I knew along would turn and run with their tails between their legs from the start. Some accomplishment.”

“Yes, well. . . I’m not sure I’m the right person to be offering you any comfort,” she stands to her full height again.

“I get it,” you reply. “You’re disappointed in the person I turned out to be. That makes two of us.”

Moira shakes her head.

“Let’s get you up.”

“Huh?” You utter, dumbfounded by the mere insinuation. “Up? Do I really look like I’m in any condition to be going anywhere?”

“Well I can’t very well kneel here and pull that thing out with my bare hands and no medical equipment, can I?” Moira questions in return.

“You could.”

“It would be foolish,” she states plainly. “In any case, will you be taking your chances here on your own, like this, or would you rather give yourself a fighting chance and come with me?”

“To where?”

“My laboratory,” she replies.

You’d have laughed if you’d been certain it wouldn’t drive that piece of metal into your small intestine.

“Talon gave you a laboratory?” You question. “And just what have you been up to for you to have worked your way into their good graces like that?”

“Nothing that proves to be of any concern to you,” she answers coldly.

Well then.

That’s certainly a far cry from the woman who used to enthusiastically usher you into her little realm in the late hours of the night to have you perch on the corner of her desk and listen as she rattled on and on about anything. It’s a far cry from the Moira who used to sneak her hands beneath your shirts just to feel the warmth of your skin beneath her palms.

“Are you coming with me, or would you prefer I leave you alone to lament in the rubble?”

The choice was easy. She helped you to your feet, let you lean on her slender (but surprisingly sturdy) shoulder, and by the skin of your teeth, you managed to make it back with her before that so-called seven rose to a ten. At the very least she had the decency to try and numb the area before carefully pulling the shrapnel from your gut and cleaning the unpleasant wound it left behind. You knew that look she wore on her pretty face and kept your mouth shut as she worked.

This new lab of hers is sterile, —a stark bit of contrast to the chaos outside. It’s hidden underground, but it was easy to forget that once you stepped inside with all the sharp, fluorescent lights that shone in the halls. The tech and machinery is wildly different to the type Overwatch had provided her with. You couldn’t be sure, but you were definitely willing to bet it was something close to state of the art. The air smells heavily of antiseptic now as she sits you up slowly, pausing when you wince as pain shoots through your abdomen.

Looking up at her now, there’s a clinical detachment that wasn’t there before, and you can’t say you like it.

Lost in the motions, she doesn’t seem to notice the way you stare, and you’re thankful for it. Her hands move with practiced precision, but you can’t shake the memories that have wriggled back up to swallow you whole, feasting like maggots on whatever rot she’s claimed inside you. You’re both different now, but this proximity, this touch, —her eyes raking over your skin. . . It all feels strangely familiar.

For the briefest of moments her eyes met yours, and you could almost swear you caught a glimpse of something beyond the stiff exterior she was presenting you with. Whether it was regret or desire, well, that was still up in the air. As quickly as it was there, it was gone, replaced by the mask of composure she chose to don like armor, even in your presence.

“Try not to move too much,” she murmurs, those nimble fingers adorned by prettily painted nails tracing the edges of your jagged injury as she wound bandages around your waist.

The contact was cold and dispassionate, but you couldn’t shake the lingering sense of intimacy that persisted, dancing between what was and what could have been. Maybe if she’d stayed a little longer after Overwatch fell, things wouldn’t have ended up like this. Maybe if you’d been less destroyed by the disbandment, had perked up earlier, —things would have been different. But here you are, Moira nursing you back to health again. . . And it feels nice. As nice as it can be to have a woman you loved once (and quite possibly still do, albeit differently now) taking metal from your gash and patching you up in the wake of it.

There was tension now between yourself and her that just didn’t feel quite right. You felt the weight of all the loose ends you never thought you’d have the opportunity to tie up, and it made the silence all the more palpable.

“Do you ever miss it?” You inquire, though you’re not sure if it was spurred more by curiosity or by the desire to put a cap on the quiet. “The time before Overwatch fell.”

She pauses, in the midst of winding some unused bandage wrap back around itself to store it away.

“You know my opinion on that organization quite well,” she answers markedly.

She’s right. You do. Overwatch had provided you with an outlet, had awoken something difficult to manage inside you, —but something they fed so deliciously everytime they sent you out into the field. For Moira, though, she felt they stunted scientific progress and refused to let her ideas thrive, skimping on resources for the research and experimentation teams. It wouldn’t be a stretch to say she loathed Overwatch, and you always knew she wasn’t sad to see it go.

“So no,” she adds. “I can’t say that I do.”

It’s probably not as personal as you’re taking it, but hearing her say that really throws a wrench in the whole ‘I think I’m still in love with you’ thing you’ve got going on.

“Still,” you say, voice cautiously casual, “do you ever think about it?”

In the time it took you to find the nerve to speak again, she’d finished wrapping the bandage and had begun reaching for the kit she claimed it from.

“Nostalgia is a luxury we can seldom afford in times like this,” she comments. “And I prefer my conversations more to the point. Just what is it you’re trying so hard to ask without asking?”

Her response leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. The time before was far from perfect, but it was such a delicate mix of pain and pleasure. Now, it just feels far too much like Moira is determined to bury both beneath the rubble of the present.

“Just. . .” you hesitate, feeling the words die in your throat the minute she meets your eyes.

You swallow their corpses like bile and try again.

“What we had. . . Did it mean anything to you?”

Oh, joy. Now you’re fairly certain that you’re just coming across like some lovesick little girl who never got over her first crush. It’s embarrassing enough to make your insides churn a little, although thankfully only in a metaphorical sense, because you’re pretty sure that would have hurt fairly badly on its own, and that pain would only be amplified by the wound on your stomach.

“What we had?” She echoes, one of her thin brows arching.

A part of you is almost expecting her to laugh at you, but she doesn’t.

“It served its purpose,” she shrugs, tone even.

“And that’s all?” You press, even though sirens are going off in your brain, begging you to reel the conversation back in or try to steer it in another direction entirely.

There just has to be something more beneath the surface.

“We both got what we needed, did we not?” Moira questions. “You got to rest your weary head on a warm body, and I had someone to speak with, —even someone to take some frustration out on. Nothing more, nothing less.”

What she said was true, but it still made your chest ache to hear it out loud.

“And now?”

“Now what?” She inquires.

“What’s our relationship now?”

Moira pauses, her gaze lingering on your face as if she’s weighing her options in real time. The sterile air of the lab seems to thicken with your anticipation, and you brace yourself for her reply. 

“Now?” She muses, tone cool and detached. “We’re. . . Acquaintances, of a sort.”

“And that’s all?”

“That’s all.”

Acquaintances. It’s a word that feels more distant than the war-torn landscape outside, and it shreds your stupid little heart like it's been raked over a cheese grater. It fucking stings. A woman you used to run to seeking solace and what always felt like protection is now something less than even a friend. You’ve been reduced to some kind of footnote in her life story.

At this point, all your pride has gone out the window. Or, it would have done so if this place had any, but being underground, that wasn’t exactly a reasonable ask. Instead, it’s wilting in front of you like a discarded rose, shriveling up all the more when you decide to open your mouth again.

“Do you ever think about it? About me?”

Moira stills for a moment, as if the question caught her off guard.

“What’s there to think about?” She answered your question with one of her own.

“Us. What we had. How it felt.”

Silence lingers, stretching into uncomfortable territory before she finally fixes her tongue to say: “I try not to dwell on the past.”

She’s diplomatic, even in her evasivness.

“Dwell on me then,” you dare. “I’m here now, aren’t I? That’s hardly what I’d consider a thing of the past.” 

She busies her hands with something on a table nearby.

“I try not to dwell on any one thing for too long,” she revises. “Lots of things require my attention. Stagnancy is hardly a luxury I can afford.”

You can’t help it that her vague replies make you well up in frustration,

“You can’t just pretend like it didn’t happen.”

“I could,” she states, letting her gaze rise to snag yours. “But I didn’t. I told you; what happened between us served its purpose. Now, it’s time to adapt and move forward.”

“Adapt and forget?” You challenge.

“Adapt and survive,” she corrects.

“Neither of us are exactly the type to just want to survive and leave it at that,” you remind her. 

Moira drops the tool in her hand and looks at you pointedly. You flinch at the noise it makes as it clangs against the table.

“What exactly are you fishing for?” She questions, frustration seeping into her tone. “Some kind of senseless confirmation that you were more than just something familiar?”

“I don’t know. Maybe something like that,” you admit, and immediately a part of you wishes you hadn’t, and yet you continue. “Maybe I just wanna know that it meant something to you beyond serving a purpose.”

“You want to hear me say that I loved you.”

Your blood sort of runs cold, but you don’t bother to deny it. That is what you’ve been clawing for this whole conversation, —you just hadn’t expected her to put it so bluntly, even if that’s just within her nature. Still, there’s a vulnerability on her face that you hadn’t quite expected.

“Love. . . Love is a complicated word. It carries weight, and expectations, and a host of things we never explored. What we had was different. But in saying it’s different, I don’t diminish the significance. It’s a differentiation, but not one I feel matters more than the facts at hand. It was mutually beneficial, and I have a great deal of fondness for you as a result.”

“A deal great enough to think of me as an acquaintance,” you say.

“At the moment,” she states. “But in the past, which I’m still not keen to be dwelling on, —we were something more. I don’t let mere acquaintances sleep in my bed.”

“In the past,” you echo, seeming almost disenchanted by it all now.

“Things change,” she tells you. “You and I know that better than most. Circumstances evolve. I’m not negating or denying what we shared, —I’m telling you that the present demands a different perspective.”

That’s a hard pill to swallow, to say the least of it.

“So what now then?” You ask. “You stay here in this lab alone, and I go back out there? Maybe we cross paths every once in a blue moon, and we stay acquaintances forever?”

“If that’s what you need to give yourself some closure on the matter, then I suppose so,” Moira replies.

“I don’t need closure,” you tell her. “I don’t want it. What I want is. . .”

You pause. What exactly do you want? Something close to what you shared with her those few years ago? Something more, something less? Maybe it’s just that you miss the way she’d kiss you, because nobody has done it since then. Maybe you’re just touch starved and feening for the only woman who ever knew how to push all your buttons in all the right ways.

You swallow, steeling yourself to finish.

“What I want is you.”

Moira’s lips twitch into a small smile.

“You always were stubborn,” she notes.

“Only when it matters,” you reply, not bothering to bite back a grin.

“And you think it matters now?” She asks.

“I think it matters now more than ever,” you answer, tone earnest. “I miss what we had, Moira. I miss you.”

She studies you for a moment, as if she’s weighing the sincerity of your words. Finally, she breaks the silence.

“You do realize that things won’t be the same, correct?” She questions. “I don’t know where you’ve been or who you’ve become in the time we’ve spent apart. Not that I’m unwilling to learn, —just to say that it won’t be exactly how it was. Not now, not for quite a while, and perhaps maybe never.”

“I know things won’t be the same,” you confirm. “But maybe that’s not such a bad thing. Maybe this can be something better.”

Moira can’t deny that the possibility intrigues her. She loves a good hypothesis, after all. Her analytical mind seems to weigh the pros and cons, calculating the risks involved and the potential for something grander than what it once was at its inception. Something more than a stifled set of hookups and entangled nights. A hint of a smile graces her lips.

“I’m willing to take the risk if you are,” she concedes. “But I make no promises about the end result.”

You remove yourself from the table, feet hitting the cold floor of the lab, emboldened by the diluted pain and the urge to be closer to her now more than ever. She nearly opens her mouth to advise you to sit back down, but doesn’t in the end.

“I don’t need promises,” you insist, reaching out to take her hand. “I just need a chance.”

She smiles honestly, and it’s like watching all her sharp edges soften. Her free hand cups your cheek, cold to the touch even as it warms your heart. Her thumb caresses your skin gingerly as she leans down slightly, speaking softly.

“Granted.”