#overwatch ship chart original

[askagamedev]

Sent this ask a while ago but I think Tumblr ate it so here it is:

In which stage of game development are relationships between characters decided? Asking this because I recently found an old Final Fantasy VII relationship chart and originally some characters were supposed to have completely different bonds compared to the ones they ended up having in the actual game. These seem to be quite important plot points, so I assume that final decisions should be made before creating cutscenes? Or you can change stuff later if devs come up with better ideas?

The importance of the narrative depends primarily on how important the narrative is to the game. For a game like Overwatch, where the core gameplay is team pvp, the narrative is a lot less important and things like relationships are generally prioritized. It matters more that each character fills the specific gameplay needs of a team-based pvp shooter than it matters that these characters are brothers or that group has a rivalry with this one. In a situation like Overwatch, the narrative tends to be more like the glue that holds the bigger parts of the game together - it's decided on later once the big decisions have been made (e.g. we are locking in a flying rocket character and a fast teleporting character).

The important thing to think about when it comes to development is that we can't build the game sequentially, we have to build as much of the game in parallel as we can. This means we have to start work on the things that take the longest as early as possible (e.g. building environments, creating animations and rigs, building the technology), and then do the things that take less time to complete later. For features like cutscenes, it depends on how much difficulty it takes to build the cutscenes. In the original FF7, the FMV sequences were set in stone. Making changes to pre-rendered FMV was untenable, so everything in the FMV sequences had to be locked in very early on in order to get it all done on time. The in-game bits - the low-poly characters moving, talking, and animating - were cheaper and easier to build, so they could be changed significantly later in the dev cycle. Today such things would be much more difficult due to the necessity of voice acting and the difficulty of getting the voice actors back into the recording booth.

When we're in deadlines, we have deadlines - this is the last day for us to make changes to the feature we're working on. That could mean combat, it could mean itemization, it could mean summoning magic, it could mean narrative, it could mean cutscenes/cinematics. After that deadline passes, we commit to fixing bugs with what we have and not making any more changes or additions, no matter how good the ideas are. If we can always make changes forever, we'll never ship the game. As the inestimable Dolly Parton said, "Sometimes you need to to tinkle or get off the potty."

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[weltato]

Oh boy, oh boy! I've been tagged! Ma! Get the camera! (why am I always green lol? everywhere I go this colour follows me. not complaining tho XD)

Tysm Lilac! I doubt I'll be anywhere near as in-depth as you, but here we go!

><><;><>< -Answers under the cut- ><><><><

How many works do you have on AO3?

I have, as of this post, a total of 33 on AO3. There are an extra 4-5 in the wip folder though, just waiting for me to finish them.

2. What's your total word count?

AO3 stats tell me it's 85,132 - the fic with the highest wordcount was the first one I ever wrote and took about 2 years to complete. (It's not the best, I kinda want to rewrite it tbh, but that's effort-)

3. What fandoms?

In order of which fandoms I wrote for first-last: - Sanders Sides [1] - Undertale [1] - DC's Legends of Tomorrow [1] - Ace Attorney [2] - Dear Evan Hansen [1] - Star Trek: Alternate Original Series films [1] - Star Trek: Discovery [3] - Dani's Castle [1] (This one is still a wip bc I've been procrastinating on finishing the last chapter before I upload everything.) - Detroit: Become Human [1] - Sherlock [1] - Ride The Cyclone [5!] - CBS Ghosts [1] - Wednesday (Netflix) [4] - Overwatch [2] - Good Omens [4] - Hatchetverse/Hatchetfield Universe [4]

I've been in the Hatchetfield fansphere since TGWDLM came out, but I only started writing for it recently when I read @lilacthebooklover's fic "Dehumanization" which I CANNOT plug enough. Go read it right now if you enjoy Paul whump and are a fellow Paulkins enjoyer <3

4. Top 5 fics by kudos

1. Patching Things Up currently sits at a whopping 358 kudos! This also has the highest hit count of 4,736! Insanity. 2. I'll Warm Your Hands To Warm Your Heart stands at 163 kudos, which is average to my usual rate. PTU was a wonderful anomaly. 3. Patchy Memory is just under at 159 kudos. These top three are all for the same fandom - Wednesday (Netflix). Such a good show. 4. The (Blue) Blood In My Eyes sits just under PM with 145 kudos. This was for DBH. 5. Mischa's Journey of Coming Out has just cracked three digits! It's a 107 kudos currently, and is an RTC fic.

5. Do you respond to comments?

All the time! Sometimes it's just a "<3" because I don't have anything to say, but I want to let the commenter know that their comment is appreciated ^-^

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Ghosted Coffee (Poisoned Food), my gifted fic to @lilacthebooklover, definitely has the angstiest ending, mostly because I left it like that so that I could continue to write from it. I usually write happy endings, or soft endings because I want the soft to heal from the angst at some point :')

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

My most recent one is probably the happiest since it's just pure fluff. It's called Birthday Girl, Won't You Dine With Me? and it's Ted/Charlotte fluff. I've lovingly called them Sweetkoffski bc Charted is a weak ship name, let's be real.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Thankfully, I've never received hate on any of my fics, and I'm so grateful for that. I'll take concrit if people are willing to give it, but being an arse online is just stupid. Don't do it. You don't know what's going on in people's lives behind the screen. That could be the final straw for some. Think before you type. I love you all <3

9. Do you write smut?

Nope, and I probably won't ever. The furthest I'd go is fade to black, or off-screen mentions. Just not exactly comfortable writing that and putting it out into the fic world, no thanks. I do currently have an idea that dips lightly into sexual themes at the very beginning, but it shifts to fluff pretty quick.

10. *the wind whistles, for there is no 10th question to be found*

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Thankfully not!

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Alas, I have not. It'd be really cool if I did though, or if someone wanted to do a podfic of something I'd written. I'd love to get involved <3

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I haven't. (lowkey running out of ways to say no :|)

14. What's your all time favourite ship?

Well good golly Miss Molly this is a loaded question - I have MANY. I generally class by fandom and try to have one fave ship per fandom, but for some (like Hatchetverse) it's really hard. Here are some of them:

From Hatchetverse: currently Paulkins bc they're so cute and sweet and they care so much and they ALWAYS FIND EACH OTHER IN EVERY TIMELINE AND- From Ace Attorney: Narumitsu, obviously lol. I do love other ships (Maggey x Gumshoe is adorable, FranMaya is one I didn't think I'd like and then -boom!- I was invested, etc.) Star Trek: This is one of the 'I have many ships' fandoms, since there are so many shows now, but probably because he's my favourite character and his character development is mm- magnifique... Culmets (also sometimes known as Space Husbands) from ST:Disco. I love them so much. Good Omens: Another probably obvious one - Ineffable Husbands. They're so.....y'know? I can't use words atm bc I'm still disappointed in Azi (not Neil, not Michael, in the character's decision. Neil did a fantastic job and I love him- I hate him- I love him for the S2 ending .^.)

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you will?

The original story idea I had. As in, novel idea. Like a book. It still exists in physical form in a notebook in my house, but I don't think I'll be thinking about it anytime in the near future, let alone working on it. Writing a full novel is a big undertaking and I'm not in a place to do that yet. Maybe one day, if I win the lottery and everything suddenly slots into place because I have an epiphany, but not right now. It's still a really good idea though.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I...am actually not sure? ^^;; Probably characterization, since a lot of people comment about how I've written the characters well, but I always worry that they'd feel ooc. I also seem to write a lot of angst sooo.....that's something, huh.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Writing groups. I can do a groupchat text thing (see 'Alone In The Crowd'), but I do struggle with writing more than 3 characters at once. I can't flip between them in my brain fast enough to write them well and then I worry that they'll all sound the same and- yeah. Give me 3 or less and I can write forever. Give me 6 and I'll struggle.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language?

If it's German, I can probably do it, so hurrah for me that Ace Attorney has (in the localised versions of the games) canon German characters that would probably realistically speak German sometimes. I haven't done German in about 5 or so years, so I'm rusty, but I can just about remember how the grammar works. Don't ask me anything conversational though - school only teaches you the language to pass an exam, not how to speak it :/

19. First fandom you wrote for?

I've already answered this ^^;; but it was Sanders Sides - if you don't know what that is: Thomas Sanders (the 'storytime' vine man) created a YouTube webseries about the different facets of his personality, including a character version of himself. He plays all the different roles (since they're all in his head so it makes sense that they'd look like him) and there's actual lore going down. I haven't seen the most recent episodes bc life and I watch many other people on YT as well, and tbh I've drifted from the fandom a bit, but it's still enjoyable.

20. Top 3 fics I've ever written?

My very top one was linked earlier and is for the Wednesday (Netflix) fandom - Patching Things Up. It's received so much love and I'm still blown away every time I see how many people have even clicked on the fic. Nearly 5k! Madness.

The next would probably have to be My Home, My Saviour, My Firefighter (the beginning of something beautiful <3) because I just enjoyed writing it so so much, despite it being incredibly angsty. It's the longest oneshot I had written at the time by about 2.5k(ish) words and even surpasses the 6 chapter fic Mischa's Journey (linked earlier) by roughly 1k. Won't be able to pass that very first fic though, don't think anything will unless I rewrite it.

Thank you to Lilac again for the tag! I enjoyed doing this <3

I don't have many people to tag tbh bc I'm not sure who writes and who doesn't that I follow, but I'll tag @marvelmaniac715 and @jewishruthfleming because I've read some of your writings and they're great reads, so so good <33

Open to anyone else that sees this who wants to join in!

20 Questions for Fic Writers

@snarky-wallflower Thanks for the tag! This was a lot of fun :)

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

67 currently, but I have deleted a few old ones lol

2. What’s your total word count?

Now, when I tell you I went overboard on this question, I went overboard. My private, unposted, solely-written-by-me fics' total word count is 227,868. My total word count for fics I've collaborated with @charismabee on is 477,549, and my total word count on AO3 is 389,530. However, quite a few of my AO3 fics are collabs with Red, so if you take away everything like Wilting Flowers and Owl House but Kindergarten, you're left with 225,235 words written solely by me. So, if you total up 225,235 + 227,868 + 477,549, then you get a grand total of 930,652 words! Then, of course, there's the whole matter of my old fics on regular Word and not Docs, which would probably add up to at least another 50,000 total considering we're talking about my ASOUE and DT17 phases, as well as all of the private Viva Pinata and miscellaneous musical stuff lurking in there, and we've got that weird writing app on my tablet that I used a lot a couple of years ago whenever my phone got confiscated, but I cannot be bothered to search through all of that right now. So, it mostly rounds up to around 1,000,000 words. Fanfiction may or may not be taking over my life. (Gosh I love maths <3)

3. What fandoms?

I've written mostly for the Kindergarten 1 and 2 fandom, my total fics on AO3 for it totaling 38. However, I have written a heck of a lot of OMORI as well, and dabble in the Owl House, DHMIS, a few webseries on YT as well as the Hatchetverse sometimes, too!

4. Top 5 fics by kudos

1. World's Okayest Uncle at 799. My latest WIP, written for the Hatchetfield Universe and based around the concept of Paul Matthews becoming the accidental uncle of every kid in town. Each chapter focuses on a different child (the three so far about Alice, Richie and Pete respectively), and once all of them have been sufficiently adopted, I've been considering adding some slice-of-life stuff, exploring the changed character dynamics, and looking into parts of canon that would change in the AU as well. 2. Hollow at 455, a Hunter-centric one-shot for the Owl House set immediately after season 2 finished. It was written in the post King's Tide craze of awesome Human Realm content, so it got quite a lot of hits at the time. It focuses on Hunter dealing with the aftermath of Belos seemingly having died, and himself having being thrown into a completely new, unfamiliar world as an unfamiliar God took over his own :) 3. Flapjacks at 279, another Hunter-centric piece because TOH fans can't get enough of him lol (I am very much one of those fans). I began writing it back when Thanks to Them was first released, then got the motivation to finish it after I saw Watching and Dreaming. It focuses on Hunter returning to the Human Realm after the Collector's defeat, as well as Camila's thoughts on being a parent of who knows' how many kids at this point. Hunter finally gets the chance to mourn, and finds out what a flapjack actually is. 4. Gravesfield Historical Society, at 275. In which it's only natural that the Boiling Isles' leading Human Expert decides to do some research, and Gus does his very best to ignore the images plaguing him from looking into Belos' mind. Vee looks for some closure, Hunter is very protective over his little siblings, and Gus just wants to have a fun day at the museum. Things... Don't go to plan. 5. Fading, at 215. Yet another TOH work (I was around when the fandom was active as heck), one of the shortest pieces I've ever written at only 722 words. It's from Flapjack's POV during that scene in Thanks for Them. You know the one. I made lots of people cry, and sacrificed the birb.

5. Do you respond to comments?

Of course!! I thoroughly appreciate every comment I receive; they really make my day. Being part of an active fandom with the Uncle Paul AU has sort of taken me by storm so my inbox is pretty clogged at the moment, but I promise that I have read and smiled over and will reply to the comments all of my lovely readers have left behind! It means so much that someone's not only taken the time to read what I've written, but that they liked it enough to leave a comment behind. Even just keysmashes or "<33"s are really lovely to see, so thank you to the wonderful commentors out there! You guys are awesome :D

6. What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Ooh, now this is a tough one! Pretty much 95% of what I write is angst, with a good 70% being Hurt No Comfort. Still, I think the angstiest ending I've ever written would have to be that of either "Enough", in which 13 y/o me decided it was a good idea to follow the perspective of kindergartener Theodore Huxley as his brother pushed him to his death, or "Wilted", in which 13 y/o me decided it was a good idea to follow the perspective of suicidal kindergartener Lily as she gave up on finding the one person who cared about her and committed suicide as a result of being bullied. Wilted should probably win out considering the implications of what would happen to Billy as a result, and bc the ending subsequently led to Nugget's death too, but Ted's train of thought in Enough is so gosh darn sad.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Definitely "McDonald's". That's the fluffiest thing I've ever written, no doubt about it. Not a smidgen of angst, just a bunch of kids with colourful eyes and pointy ears walking into a fast food restaurant and discovering what chicken nuggets are. It literally ends with the promise of more cute adventures to come, so I'd say this one's a no-brainer loll

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I've only ever received hate once, on a little Gravity Falls AU I made entitled "Puppet Strings and Stage Curtains". I got some pretty nasty criticism on it and, as a kid who was still very anxious about posting stuff online, it really impacted me at the time. I'm still a little nervous even now to open up my inbox because I think I might have gotten another comment like that shfjdhhgkjh. I wound up abandoning the fic because my motivation was completely destroyed, and I couldn't even look at the thing without feeling ashamed. However, I haven't received any hate since, which is great! There's just no reason for it, really; if you like something, leaving a comment is wonderful, and it makes the author happy! If you don't, just don't read the fic. Leaving a hurtful comment isn't going to make anyone happy, and can be really damaging to writers. Shoutout to @weedkillercentral, who, without fail, leaves the bizzarest comments known to man on almost every work I post.

9. Do you write smut?

Nope! I am a ✨minor✨ (@snarky-wallflower dw I too am a nerdy prude, sex jokes are Ew). Still, I do enjoy writing romance from time to time! Some ships are straight-up hard not to enjoy reading/writing for :))

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Funny story, actually. I used to have Wattpad and, as much as I hated using it, a friend of mine liked the site so I used it to support her. I wound up posting some of my own stuff on there at one point. I will never be able to get over the fact that when you searched up my username online, the images used to show a picture of Sharkbomb Glomgold. How do I know this? Because small me got bored and looked up my username, and accidentally found a mirror site to Wattpad with some of my stuff on. It credited my username and everything, but I panicked about it because as far as I was aware, I had no control over whether I could take it down or what else could be put on it. So, I deleted everything on my account, and just like that, the fics on the mirror site vanished. So no, I've never had anything outright stolen-- at least, I hope I haven't-- but that was a Not Fun experience for little me a few years ago

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

No, I'm not famous enough for that lol. I did have an offer for someone to make a podfic of smth I wrote a few years ago, but they never got around to it. Still, if anyone ever wants to translate one of my fics, I'd love it if you did! Please just let me know and acknowledge me as the OG author; having a work translated sounds awesome.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes! Many thanks yet again to the amazing @charismabee, my dear co-author and the Kel shirt to my Maverick cosplay wig. The amount of hours I've spent writing with her is actually insane, as well as the times we've just messaged brainstorming AUs or having far too strong feelings about the show Elena of Avalor. We've done joint Whumptobers and Febuwhumps, fics that are combinations of the nichest stories and characters, a lot of redemption arcs for 5-year-olds... If you like my stuff, I thoroughly encourage you to go give her work a read at TheFearIsRed on AO3! :D

If anyone else ever wants to try collaborating on something, I think I'd be willing to give it a try! There are loads of talented authors on here, and co-writing is a lot of fun <3

14. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

Hmm... Well, Paulkins is an obvious one (remember that one post about "hatchetfield fans when normal man and his barista crush show up for 5 seconds"? yeah that's me). They have a level of mutual trust and understanding that's just really nice to explore, they both have issues galore but will support each other no matter what, half infected Paul content is golden and as an avid Uncle Paul truther, Emma finding out about his many children is just too funny a concept to me. They act like teenagers when they see each other, they're both down bad, she knows he doesn't like the Christmas advert jingles, he thinks she's funny,,, they're so <3

Another strong contender is Pearla (Penny x Carla), from the K2 fandom. @goldmoth82 was the one who got me into writing about them with their absolutely incredible stuff (art, fics, you name it!). They're just a traumatised android and a thieving arsonist, what more could you want?

Gold rush (Kel x Mikhael) is another of my favourites though, mostly because it's so funny. Mikhael has declared them rivals, and Kel could not care less. Mikhael challenges him to races, and Kel beats him easily. Mikhael insults him often, but Kel doesn't retaliate. Mikhael wants to be independent and special, to stand out from everyone else. Kel wants to be appreciated as more than just Hero's brother, to be liked and acknowledged as himself. Mikhael would vehemently deny his feelings until Daphne and Bowen tied them up together and forced him to confess. Rivals are just lovers in disguise, everyone. One-sided gold rush is even funnier, because they're technically one-sided rivals. Kel was Mikhael's homosexual awakening. Mikhael looks so dumb and flamboyant because he's trying to impress him. Mikhael claims he hates him and that his bright red face is from anger after Kel effortlessly beats him time and time again. I love them.

But I think out of everything, Wrightworth would have to take my top pic for favourite ship. Gay lawyers who would die for each other for the win.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you will?

Ohh gosh. There are quite a few, but I'd probably say this year's Whumptober. My mental health went schwoop this October and I only got up to day 11 despite my plans. I still intend to finish the collab one with Red when I have time again (exams suck), and I'm not sure if I'll ever be able to get around to completing it. At least there's always next year! :"]

16. What are your writing strengths?

Definitely characterisation. I have a lot of fun getting into characters' heads and making studies on them in different scenes or just overall, and have a lot of fun bouncing different personalities off of each other. Once I know a character, I know the character, and writing their POV is as simple as breathing lol. I'd also say that I'm pretty good at tension building and breaking, as well as Hurt No Comfort (you need some good old angst, I'm your gal).

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Action scenes, for one, though I've been improving on them since I started the TOH Kindergarten AU! I'd also say that I struggle with slower-paced, filler sort of stuff. I might like to build up to an event, but chapters that don't have plot relevance just sort of stump me lol, even when they're necessary :)

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language?

I enjoy learning languages, and have been teaching myself Spanish for the past couple of years or so. However, writing them is a whole separate thing entirely. If I had a translator, I'd be all good! I just get a little worried when I write any language that isn't Spanish because google translate is unreliable as heck, so I typically tend to avoid it. Luckily, none of my fandoms really require it- but if that Franziska & Miles brainrot doesn't go away soon, I might be in a bit of a pickle trying to write German dialogue hshjhgfk

19. First fandom you wrote for?

A Series of Unfortunate Events (the Netflix show). It was the first fandom I got really, properly into, diving in headfirst at the age of about 12 and finding a lot of awesome content. The obsession I had with VFDBaudelaireFile13's Violet Snicket AU "Misery Loves Company" a few years ago was wild. My writing back then was very jolty, and I wrote in chapters that only lasted a few paragraphs with big, bold titles that often had at least two exclamation marks at the end. Still, ASOUE is one of my favourite shows to this day, and I don't regret a thing from my time binge-reading everything I could find for it (except that one lemons fic I accidentally came across when starved for content), nor any of the silly little unposted AUs I wrote on Word.

20. Top 3 fics I've ever written:

I puzzled over this question for ages, but found it impossible to choose just one! Ignore that I'm cheating a little here, and take three instead <3

1. An unposted collaborative work with @charismabee/TheFearIsRed that we called MPT. It was the first big fic I ever wrote, and it was probably what really got me into writing as a hobby. I got to spend time at random intervals writing about and whumping my favourite characters with someone I'm very close with, making up the plot as we went along. I remember coming up with the initial idea on a swingset, and spending hours colour-coding every segment of those 50,000 words based on each mention of a character as well as who wrote what. MPT is messy, and a tad repetitive in places, and while finished, I don't believe it's something I'll ever post. But it holds a special place in my heart, and it's a lot of fun looking back on my writing from a couple years ago compared to now 2. Not sure if this fully counts, but an untitled Omori WIP I've got going atm is definitely up there. It's Hero-centric with huge emphasis on his trauma, following the course of the year the events of the game occur in. I've had a blast writing his thoughts and time at college, and I'm geberally just really proud of it thus far. Hopefully, it'll be done by January in time for his birthday! :) 3. Now this one is a posted work– Magical Girls: Omori!, another collab with Red. We came up with the idea, binge-watched season one of Glitter Force on Netflix, and ran with the plot. We've planned out all of season 1 with ideas for season 2, incorporated a plethora of great characters, and been able to mess around with a fun fantasy high school full of our favourites. It's always wonderful to write, and I really like how it's been going!

Thank you again to @snarky-wallflower for the tag! You're amazing <3

As for people I know, I've tagged the vast majority of you already sjhkffg oops.

@charismabee @goldmoth82 @weltato @inprisonforsparkling hey there jpr the au mastermind, fanartist of the century, paul whump bestie and king of michie. you guys are some of my favourite writers out there, i'd love to see what you answer with for this (no pressure ofc!) <33

[q5dis]

i made one

[hana-blogs]

Commission status: OPEN (details below line) Sheet updated Nov ‘22

Everything I have to offer is pretty much in the above post, but I wanna add: -Animals and mechs are OKAY but just know i have little experience -drawing them. but will be happy to try! Prices may vary from the sheet. -Extreme Gore (injuries and blood is okay.) -Explicit NSFW (I’m quite fine with drawing certain things but we can discuss this if you’re interested) - Racist/harmful things are a no. obviously. 

If you are interested or have any questions - you can message me (off Anon) here or my email at hana.commissions@gmail.com Am happy to chat :) You can view my work at @hana-designs or my Hana-art tag for this blog

[stupiddumbgamer]

This looked cute!!

Oh man time to share my unwanted opinions.

These are all the things that came to mind first i probably missed some

ORIGINAL:

[fandom]

You know it, you love it: It’s Tumblr’s 2018 Year in Review.

We’re ready to say goodbye to this year the only way we know how: by celebrating what you love the most. Tumblr’s Year in Review is about showcasing what makes this place so damned special: your posts, your interests, your passions. The Tumblr community is exceptional. It can be intense and fast-paced, but also so welcoming to new conversations and new people. You’re constantly evolving, and keeping this platform the best place to talk about what genuinely excites real people.

After reviewing literal tens of thousands of lines of data, we sorted the most popular stuff into 23 lists with our very own Fandometrics rating system—measuring searches, original posts, reblogs, and likes to rank your enthusiasm and love. Your K-pop biases? We found ‘em. The games that kept you up way too late? We ranked those, too. Your ships? You can bet we cataloged the top 100 ships—you’re bound to find your OTP in there.

We’ll release a few lists every day over the next three days. Why rush a good thing? Let’s savor it. Some lists are old favorites, like top celebrities or favorite books. Others are brand new babies that had to be created to reflect what you posted about all year long, like Zodiac signs and Hogwarts Houses. Today, however, we’re giving you a little scoop on a great, big thing: the top 10 things on all of Tumblr.

If you’ve been following along with Fandometrics every week, the list shouldn’t be too surprising. There’s a live streaming D&D web series that kicked off its second campaign in January, a film that left us all not feeling so good, a K-pop group that had one hell of a year by racking up awards, breaking chart records, and appearing on the cover of TIME magazine, and more. It’s the most well-rounded list, representing so many corners of fandom and community. It’s you!

Tumblr’s Top 10

BTS

Voltron: Legendary Defender

Marvel

Steven Universe

Boku no Hero Academia

Overwatch

Klance | Keith & Lance, Voltron: Legendary Defender

Avengers: Infinity War

Artists on Tumblr

Critical Role

[bunnyhanasong]

Lost and Found

Main ship: pharmercy

Side ships: n/a

Genre: angst, hurt/comfort, reunion

Synopsis: Dr. Angela Ziegler has spent years focusing solely on her work and saving lives. When a familiar face comes to her in the worst way imagined, the level-headed doctor is left battling logic and emotion in a way she never wished to experience.

Note: This is a short story that I wrote for my creative writing course last semester that I have edited to contain Pharah and Mercy as opposed to my original characters I submitted it with. As I was writing it, I noticed how much inspiration I had taken from Pharmercy with the doctorxsoldier trope, so I thought I would edit it and post as a fan fic since I'm rather fond of it and got a very good mark on it. So, Mr. O if you're reading this; yes this short story was basically gay Overwatch fan fiction lmao. For now this is just a oneshot, though I have thought about expanding the story in the future. Feedback, comments, and suggestions for future pieces in this universe are very much appreciated and will motivate me to write again for this!

Content warnings: canon typical violence, medical talk, military talk, PTSD, traumatic injuries, takes place in a hospital

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Incoming trauma, IED blast with three major casualties; one DOA, two in critical condition.

Angela groaned as her pager beeped angrily at her, the words highlighting the screen causing her to shoot up from her bunk. The on-call room was dark and there were at least two other pagers beeping away, trying to get their owners up to meet the trauma. The bottom bunk she had been occupying for less than 45 minutes, though not exactly the pinnacle of comfort, was warm and inviting in that moment. Still, she pushed herself up and made to leave, trying to pull her blonde hair into a haphazard bun as she followed the other doctors out into the hallway.

The doctor and nurse in front of Angela were chattering in what she knew was Arabic, though her minimal knowledge in the language rendered eavesdropping nearly impossible. Angela was from Switzerland originally, so she only spoke German and English, the latter being thanks to school. She had chosen to learn English throughout high school and university, which came in handy since that was the tongue she spoke predominantly here. She was the head doctor of a Swiss medical aid team, sent to a military base outside of Cairo, Egypt to help their short-staffed trauma centre. None of her team knew Arabic, save for a few phrases, so they were relying on each other and their English knowledge to get them through the mission. As the head doctor and the most fluent English speaker, Angela was the one who received the most information from the Military doctors.

“Dr. Ziegler,” an accented voice brought Angela’s attention to the nurses’ station across the trauma bay. She made her way to the nurse who had said her name, a kind, stout Egyptian woman by the name of Salma. She had been the friendliest nurse by far and welcomed the Swiss doctors warmly. Coming to stand by the triage desk, Angela asked the nurse for more information on what had occurred.

“Our military had sent a team to patrol a territory not far from the base where reports had been made of criminal activity. I guess they stepped too close to unmapped land, an IED mine went off before anyone could react. We lost one immediately, the other two are on the bus in critical condition; ETA 10 minutes.”

Angela nodded along with her words, feeling her stomach sink at the fact that they lost a patient already. She shook off the thought though, no sense in getting emotional now; she would just need to focus on keeping the remaining two alive. She had already seen her fair share of explosion aftermath in her two weeks on base already, which was a terrifying wake up call for the woman. Still, as a doctor she had learned quickly that one must separate feelings from work, otherwise the emotional impact of the job would have put her out of commission years ago. She kept this in mind as she left the nurses’ station, passing a group of Egyptian staff barking orders in Arabic and making her way to a familiar redheaded woman.

“Ange!” the younger doctor greeted Angela in German with a sign of relief, “We have no idea where to even start with this. Do you have any more information on the trauma?”

Amelia Schmidt, 35-year-old and a cardio surgeon by trade, though here she had switched from daily open heart surgeries to more frequent traumas and millions of sutures. She had been Angela’s closest friend since they started working at the same hospital almost about eight years prior. She was certainly a spunky person, always ready to jump into action and meet the problem head on. Being in Egypt was changing that for Amelia though, she felt very out of her element and was finding herself relying on Angela a lot more than usual. The language barrier was certainly difficult, not to mention the culture shock, and Amelia finally felt the overwhelming weight of her profession full force. Still, she never lost her spirit and still kept Angela and the others optimistic, her jovial attitude making nightshifts and long days a bit more bearable.

“Two casualties incoming, both soldiers. Landmine went off and they must have got the front of the blast. Jump in where you can and keep an eye on the younger doctors with us in case translation becomes a problem. If you need help with Arabic, let Salma know like always.”

Amelia nodded at her friend’s words, “Okay.”

Angela didn’t have time to ask her friend how things had been while she had taken a short nap, because the doors to the trauma bay crashed open. There was a lot of shouting in multiple languages as Dr. Ziegler tried to direct her staff in German while the local doctors did the same in their language. She ran up to the medic pushing a gurney, asking in her heavily accented English what they were looking at.

The paramedic looked slightly confused but thankfully answered the blonde woman in English after a moment’s pause, “Private Ahmed Abassi, age 23. GCS 8, responds to pressure but currently nonverbal and only semi-conscious. He was thrown by the explosion and has a suspected rib fracture and shoulder dislocation. Abdomen seems stiff, we assume some internal bleeding but could not get a portable ultrasound in the field.”

Angela nodded as they wheeled into a trauma room, stopping so she could pull on a pair of gloves. She worked with the nurses who had come to help, doing a secondary scan of the patient’s body. She identified some shrapnel that caused superficial wounds but her main concern was the distention of his abdomen and the apparent pain response the young soldier had to it. He was barely conscious but groaned in pain as she palpated the area, apologizing to him gently in Arabic as she continued to check his chest and torso for injuries. Though her words were jumbled and she stuttered more than she liked, Angela still made sure to speak to her patient calmly through her exam, just in case he was more aware than they thought. She asked a nurse to get the portable ultrasound and x-ray so they could check for internal injuries, which was her greatest concern in that moment. As she was monitoring his vitals and reassessing his condition on the coma scale chart, one of her younger doctors ran into the room.

“Dr. Ziegler,” the young man asked in a slightly overwhelmed tone, “Dr. Khan is asking for your help in trauma one.”

Angela nodded and turned to a nurse she knew spoke English, “I will be back to check on Private Abassi in a bit, please get those blood tests and the type-and-cross orders ASAP.”

She followed the resident out into the hall and found Dr. Khan standing outside the trauma room in question. The Egyptian doctor was the head trauma surgeon there and was very no-nonsense. She was tall and slightly intimidating, years of military training apparent in her posture and demeanour. Still, she had been friendly and helpful to the visiting doctors, which Angela was thankful for. She didn’t even have a chance to ask what was wrong before the other woman spoke in a terse voice.

“Female in her early thirties. She is awake and noncompliant. Traumatic trans-radial amputation and other assumed injuries we cannot diagnose due to her adamance to leave. She needs to be examined and we need to operate but we first need to assess her mental state.”

Angela was a bit taken aback by the sudden information dump, “And you need me because...?”

“Your friend said you worked in psychology before switching to surgery, yes?”

Ah, so she wanted a psych consult. Angela had done a minor is psychology and worked as a psychiatrist for a couple years before deciding she much rather preferred the surgical side of her profession. It had been years since she had done a proper psych consult, but her knowledge of the workup and proper patient care had not escaped her.

“I did. Do you need me to do a workup now? Shouldn’t her physical injuries take priority?”

Dr. Khan shook her head, “We have reasons to believe this is a Post-Traumatic Stress attack. She took the biggest force of the explosion; witnesses say she threw herself towards it to protect her younger soldiers. She is a security chief, so we know she has seen a lot of battle already, and was held captive by enemy forces for a fortnight last year.”

“And unknown people touching her while she is in shock may cause her to become violent or prone to self-injury,” Angela concluded, nodding. She gestured for the trauma surgeon to take her to see the patient, following behind her into the room. It had been a while since she had done a proper psych evaluation, but she was hopeful that this would be simple and not include any communication barriers.

There was a large amount of hospital personnel in the room, surrounding a figure clad in a tattered military uniform. There was a group of nurses trying to dress the soldier’s arm, which had been amputated, probably by shrapnel, just below the elbow. That needed to be assessed and closed properly, but surgery was not an option until a proper workup was done. To do a workup though, they first needed to calm the patient so she would be compliant; which was already proving to be an issue. The soldier was thrashing in the nurses’ hold, trying to escape their grasp and the IV in her remaining arm.

Jumping into action, Angela waved away two security personnel who were trying to restraint the soldier’s wrist and ankles, “You are only making this worse by restraining her. Please refrain from touching the patient.”

Making her way towards the bed, she glanced back at Doctor Khan, “Patient name?”

She looked down at the patient and didn’t even hear Khan’s response. It wasn’t necessary; she new exactly who this was. If her name badge on her uniform, somehow still intact, wasn’t identifiable enough, the eye of Horus tattoo under her right eye gave away her identity. The patient’s terrified dark eyes met hers and Angela knew that there was recognition under the layers of shock and drug-induced haze.

“F-fareeha?” Angela murmured, shocked, and took a seat in the chair pulled up beside the hospital bed. She had already tuned out all the background noise of the room, focusing completely on the woman in front of her. She was trying very hard to separate emotions from the situation, but now that she knew who the patient was it was becoming increasingly difficult. Still, she had a job to do and that was the priority in this moment.

Returning her focus to the task at hand, Angela spoke softly to the injured soldier in front of her. She had obviously recognized the blonde doctor by now and was staring at her in confusion, as if she could not understand why Angela was in front of her. The way she looked at her was reassuring though, since she seemed responsive despite her injuries and apparent blood loss. Angela took a glance at the monitor for a moment to check her vitals, saw her heart rate and blood pressure were concerningly high, and took a moment to attempt to soothe the patient’s nerves.

“Fareeha, I need you to stay still, okay?” Angela tried again to reassume her doctor tone as she spoke to the soldier, “You need to let us take care of you. Take a deep breath for me, alright?”

The Egyptian woman tried to speak but she was having trouble, whether that be due to focusing issues or her pain. The other hospital staff were speaking loudly and it was clearly distracting the patient. She was trying to even her breathing like Angela asked, but too deep of an inhale caused her breathing to hitch and her whole body to flinch, which made her assume she had sustained some broken ribs. Fareeha fumbled around on the bed until she caught Angela’s hand with her remaining one, looking up at the doctor with tear-filled eyes. The blonde didn’t pull her hand away, sensing that she needed comfort in this moment, and just hushed her gently.

“Focus on me, alright? Can you understand me?” she had been speaking English the whole time, since she knew Fareeha knew it as well. It was easier than attempting to speak her rusty Arabic, which probably wouldn’t be understandable anyway considering how much her voice wavered. After a pause, Fareeha nodded shakily, wincing as her body disagreed with the movement.

“Good, stay still,” Angela was still holding her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze, “You’re safe, Fareeha. You had an accident out in the field but we’re going to get you through this.”

Angela was trying her best to stay calm herself, speaking softly and keeping the patient’s focus on her. She knew she was letting her emotions get the better of her but she couldn’t help it. Not when Fareeha had such a tight grip on her hand and her eyes held so many questions and so much pain. Still, she knew the most important thing was to keep Fareeha distracted so her heart rate stayed down, wanting to avoid any more panic. She could see the nurses still trying to staunch the flow of blood from Fareeha’s amputation, silently praying that the patient stayed unaware of that aspect of her injury for the time being.

“M-my… my t-team?” the soldier’s voice was raspy and she spoke through gritted teeth but to Angela it was a relief to hear, “Are… t-they o…okay?”

That question made Angela hesitate, glancing back anxiously at Dr. Khan. She didn’t know how to respond to that, since she was not aware of how Ahmed’s condition was faring and did not even know the name of the soldier who had been killed by the blast. Fareeha squeezed her hand, trying to catch her attention again, and Angela sighed. Of course it was just like Fareeha to only care about her team when faced with life threatening injuries herself, ever the selfless hero she was.

“Private Abassi is in surgery right now, Chief Amari,” Khan supplied quickly, “Your other members are either back at base or in the waiting room.”

Angela did not want to lie to Fareeha but knew they could not tell her the truth about the deceased. It would not be fair to distress her like that, not now, and it would certainly ruin things after they had finally gotten her calm. The doctor just nodded along with the attending surgeon’s words, making eye contact with Fareeha.

“Fareeha, you need surgery,” though the extent of her injuries was not yet known, it was obvious she would need to be anesthetized to have her traumatic amputation corrected and cleaned up. She was unsure if the patient had even registered that she was missing her hand and forearm, most likely due to shock or the concern for her team she seemed to hold over her own health.

“Surgery?”

Angela hummed in affirmation, frowning at the way the younger woman sounded so confused, “Can you let the other doctors look you over? I promise you are safe; we just need to make sure you’re not bleeding internally or have any fractures we missed.”

It took a little more coaxing and Angela promising to stay right beside her before the younger woman agreed. The Swiss doctor held her hand the whole time, spoke to her gently in English and broken Arabic, hoping to calm her nerves. The doctor’s shaky attempt at speaking her mother tongue made Fareeha smile despite her pain, a familiar and warm sight that soothed Angela’s own anxieties. When Doctor Khan confirmed that Fareeha had suffered major bruising and a few rib fractures, as well as a concussion, she ordered some scans to make sure there was no bleeding or injury they had missed.

The other staff members were still bustling around, ordering scans and cleaning up the space. Angela had stepped away to speak to the attending doctor, explaining how she knew Fareeha and what steps they had to take now. The soldier in question was slumped back into the uncomfortable neck brace she was stuck in, still trying to crane her neck to see the only familiar face she knew in the room.

“Angie?”

The nickname Angela had not been called in years made her jump, sure Amelia called her “Ange” sometimes but that was different. There was a mixture of fondness and fear in Fareeha’s voice as she called out to the blonde doctor, who had been speaking to Khan in a hushed tone across the room. Turning her attention back to the patient who called for her, Fareeha’s dark eyes searching for reassurance before the unfamiliar nurses wheeled her to the operating theatre.

Angela walked back to her side, not even thinking as she reached out to brush matted dark hair off Fareeha’s face, “You’ll be alright, Fareehali.”

The affectionate nickname surprised the younger woman, “W-will you be here… when it’s d-done?”

Angela nodded, “Of course. I promise.” The fear and uncertainty was clear on her face and it broke Angela’s heart, seeing this strong soldier so scared. She held onto Fareeha’s hand for a little longer, promising her that the surgery would be over before she knew it and Fareeha was in good hands.

When she was reassured that there would be a familiar face there when she woke up, the solider let the staff members wheel her down the hallway. Angela was left in the hall by herself, dumbfounded by the situation she had just been thrown into. She went back to the trauma bay in a daze, worry eating away at her stomach as she slouched heavily against a wall.

“Ange?” Amelia’s cheerful voice drew her out of her thoughts, “You okay?”

Angela shrugged, already feeling the dull ache of a migraine throbbing in her skull, “Patient’s gone to surgery.”

Amelia raised an eyebrow, “You’re not operating? You have privileges here and usually you never pass up the chance to operate.”

The older woman had taken a seat in a chair, her head falling into her hands as she felt her body weighed down with the emotions she had tried to fight off. She stayed quiet for a moment as she tried to collect herself, feeling her friend’s concerned stare drilling into her. Angela didn’t raise her head to look at Amelia and her reply was muffled.

“Can’t operate. Not on her.”

“Who?”

Angela sighed, “The security chief with the traumatic amputation. She’s… uh… she’s my ex-girlfriend.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The first thing Fareeha was aware of when she woke up was the scent of disinfectant, which was so strong it felt like a hit to the face. The second thing she noticed was that her left arm was numb, and a quick glance down explained why. Her elbow was wrapped in a tight layer of bandages, but the rest of her lower arm was gone, an empty space on the bed where it should be. She recalled one of the nurses mentioning something about a traumatic amputation, but it had disappeared from her mind in a haze of adrenaline and pain medication. She was not too sure about much that had happened in the trauma room, to be honest; everything fuzzy with the weight of anesthetic. Now, though, the reality was hitting her; she was missing her left arm and might never fight again.

She felt a weight on her other arm and turned her head, much too fast which made her wince, and saw a familiar figure beside her. Angela Ziegler was there in all her glory, slumped over in a visitor’s chair that had been pulled as close to the bed as possible. She was fast asleep, her hand clutching tightly to Fareeha’s remaining one as if she would disappear if Angela let go. She was still clad in her beige scrubs, her rumpled white coat having been discarded over the back of the chair, and her hair was a mess, tumbling over her shoulders as if it had fallen from its haphazard knot. Despite her clear exhaustion and disheveled state, Fareeha would never be over how beautiful the Swiss woman was, and she felt her heart clench painfully as she remembered how bittersweet this reunion was.

Their breakup was not exactly a bad one; there had not been any ill feelings or fights. It was mostly a mutual decision out of necessity rather than falling out of love. Fareeha had been an exchange student in Switzerland back in her second year of University. She soon met Angela, a quiet and calculated med student well on her way to her degree. They quickly became friends and improved their English together as a means of communication. Like so many cliché love stories, their friendship grew closer until it was more than that. They dated for a while, Fareeha staying in Switzerland longer than her exchange had been for, and they were happy. Thing were good and Angela even made solid plans to visit her girlfriend the next summer in Egypt when she undoubtably would have to go home.

When Fareeha went back to Egypt, they made long distance work for a while and it was still okay. It was when the Egyptian woman told her girlfriend she would be joining the army that Angela knew things wouldn’t work out, not then anyway. They were too far apart and she needed to focus on her career, Fareeha’s military service would leave her plagued by fear for her partner’s safety and distract her from the hospital. Fareeha proposed a break, understanding Angela’s point of view but knew the older woman would never stop her from doing what she wanted. Angela had let her go without a fight and they parted ways, though there had been many tears on both sides and a long skype call of apologies and regrets.

They had stayed in touch at first, friendly and civil, but soon grew apart. Mostly due to Fareeha’s training and deployments, which prohibited her from using her phone often. Eventually their correspondence lulled until it stopped all together. It had been maybe three years since they last spoke by then and Fareeha was completely overwhelmed by the doctor’s presence. The fact that she was here though, since she must she have had work to be doing, was reassuring. It made her feel safe to have Angela here, especially since her mind threatened to swallow her in a whirlwind of memories and trauma. Though it didn’t stop the panic completely, Angela being there was enough to keep her from falling deep into her head in that moment.

The effects of the anesthetic were wearing off, though she still felt groggy from the IV of what she assumed was morphine. She certainly wasn’t complaining about the drugs though, since she knew her pain would have been almost blinding without the steady flow of pain relief into her bloodstream. Now that her head was clearer, Fareeha tried her hardest to distract herself from the overwhelming numbness she felt on her left side. She felt as though maybe the fact that she had had a traumatic amputation hadn’t sunk in completely beforehand, but now that the pain was breaking through her hazy mind, she felt the panic over the topic rising.

Thinking about it only made it worse, Fareeha noted, but she couldn’t stop herself. Left in the silent and bland hospital room to her own devices, her head was filled with memories from the accident as they all flooded back. The yell of shock that left her friend Noor as she realized too late that she stepped on an unmarked mine. The way she had thrown herself to grab her friend but had been too late to stop the damage. The force of the explosion that sent them all flying backwards. It all came back in a rush, overwhelming her beyond belief.

Her head was aching, she had a concussion if she remembered correctly, and she just wanted to go back to sleep. Sleep would surely bring nightmares now, though, and the solider was not sure how much more panic she could handle at that point. Fareeha tried to focus her mind on Angela instead, observing her sleeping form languidly in an attempt to keep herself calm. She gave the doctor’s hand a gentle squeeze, more as reassurance for herself than anything, and it caused the other woman to stir.

“Fareehali?” the nickname was mumbled and tired, followed by a string of words in German that Fareeha was unable to place properly. It had been too long since she head or spoke in Swiss-German, her third language, and she was too out of it to recognize what the doctor said. Hearing her voice was reassuring though, even though the sleepily mumbled words pricked at her heart more than she would like to admit; mind flooded with memories of their past. This time she wasn’t waking up in their shared bed next to the beautiful doctor, who was too tired to speak in anything but her mother tongue but still greeted Fareeha good morning with gentle kisses and a strong hug. This time she was injured and in the hospital, Angela was her doctor and they had been broken up for over half a decade. Thing were bittersweet, she sighed to herself, and this was certainly not how she imagined their reunion.

“Hi, Angie,” Fareeha replied as the blonde lifted her head, her grip on the other woman’s hand not faltering for a moment. It took a little while for Angela to wake up properly, her unruly hair sticking to sleep-flushed cheeks as she lifted her free hand to rub at her eye. After a moment though, she seemed to jump back into doctor mode.

“How’s your pain?” she questioned, glancing over at the machine beside the bed to check Fareeha’s vital signs. Fareeha couldn’t help but smile weakly at the focused look on her face, thinking she looked downright adorable when she was fussing over her like this. Perhaps an inappropriate thought for a soldier being treated for traumatic injuries, Fareeha would just blame her gay brain winning over logic for that though.

Fareeha shrugged weakly, “Can’t feel my arm,” she nodded pointedly to the bandaged stump that was propped up on a pillow as if it wasn’t obvious. She tilted her head back into the pillows and winced a little, “Head hurts.”

Angela frowned at that, reaching up to absentmindedly smooth her messy dark hair down, “I’m sorry, Fareeha.”

“Nothing anyone could do.”

“you… threw yourself in front of the explosion?”

Fareeha flinched but nodded all the same, “Not my finest idea. It seemed like the right thing to do though; I had to protect those kids. Dumbasses, the lot of them, but at the end of the day they’re good soldiers.”

Angela shook her head, “You could have died, Fareeha.”

“I could die any day, Angie. That’s how this line of work goes.”

“But…” Angela’s eyes were full of pain as she stared at her, “I can’t lose you… not again, Fareehali.”

That confession had Fareeha pausing, taken aback by the statement. It had been three years since they last spoke, six since they broke up, yet by that admission it sounded like Angela hadn’t let her go completely. Maybe she had not let Angela go either, still, that was a loaded statement and the solider was unsure of how to reply.

“Angela…” Fareeha spoke gently, though her tone was guarded, “It’s been so long.”

The blonde scoffed, blue eyes holding a challenging edge to their stare, “And? That doesn’t mean anything… I miss you, Fareeha. When I saw you in the trauma bay earlier, it was like my worst fear being realized before my eyes. If you had died down there or in surgery, I don’t know if I could have handled it.”

The Egyptian woman felt her heart sink as tears welled in Angela’s eyes. She hated seeing her in pain, hated that she couldn’t fix it immediately. The older woman had always been so strong, so calculated and sure of herself, so to see her now close to tears and almost shaking; it made Fareeha want to cry as well.

“I’m sorry,” Fareeha’s voice was barely above a whisper, “I didn’t want to leave you… I didn’t want to scare you like this.”

“I know…” Angela mumbled, hiding behind her curtain of blonde hair. She laughed at her own emotional behaviour and swiped at the tears on her cheeks, “This is so unprofessional of me.”

“Angie… how long have you been in Egypt?”

Angela looked at her with a sheepish smile, “Two weeks. We’re here for a couple months, unless something severe happens.”

Fareeha nodded, “Did you… think about contacting me?”

“I did, actually,” Angela laughed a little, “I contacted your mother. I wasn’t sure if you still had the same phone number so I found Ana though the trauma centre’s records, she works here sometimes, yeah?”

“Not as often as she used to but yeah. I haven’t talked to her in a while to be honest.”

“Fareeha!” Angela shook her head, “Call your mother for once, dumbass. She misses you.”

“I know”

The doctor sighed and observed her for a moment, “I… miss you.”

“Angie,” Fareeha sighed, watching her with pain in her eyes.

“I do.”

“I know” Fareeha said again, “I miss you too.”

Angela was holding onto her hand again, silent tears streaking down her cheeks. Fareeha tugged on her hand until she took the hint, slouching down so the soldier could wrap her arm around her. Angela melted against her strong body, trying to be careful and avoid straining her injuries. It felt safe like this, something neither woman had felt properly in years; the familiarity and warmth that came with the desperate embrace. This was the comfort both had missed so dearly, something the doctor had let go of out of fear of the unknown. Yet here they were six years later, the only reassurance they found from the unknown being in each other’s arms.

“Promise me,” Angela mumbled into her shoulder, “That you won’t scare me like this again. I can’t lose you, not after all this.”

“Angela, you couldn’t handle the distance last time…”

“I don’t care,” the Swiss woman wore her stress and exhaustion on her face as she lifted her head, “I’ll do whatever it takes this time. I’ll stay here if I have to, transfer all my work here. I can’t leave you, Fareeha, certainly not like this.”

“I-” Fareeha took a shaky breath, “You mean that?”

“Whatever it takes,” Angela’s tone was serious and firm, a sure nod punctuating her tearful words. Fareeha knew she wasn’t lying and she knew from experience that Angela never broke her promises. She also knew that the blonde was the most stubborn, head-strong woman she had the pleasure of meeting.

“Okay.”

“O-okay?”

“I promise,” Fareeha concluded as she held tightly onto the woman who had truthfully never stopped being the object of her affection, “I won’t leave you again.”

That admission made Angela burst into tears again, holding tightly to the younger woman as her whole body shook with a mixture of relief and emotion. Fareeha just held her as best she could, pressing a cautious kiss to the Swiss woman’s forehead, apologizing so quietly it was almost inaudible. It was an apology for a lot of things, leaving her; scaring her; not being there to protect and love Angela for all those years. Angela just scoffed and told her to shut up, returning her affection with a gentle kiss on the lips that held six years of pain, regret, and love.

Even though the future was terrifying and their reunion was as bittersweet as reunions go, none of that seemed to matter in that moment. All that mattered was the promise of safety and comfort they had found in each other all those years ago, a promise that felt stronger than any war, IED, or distance that threatened to separate them again.

[silver-glory]

A girl can dream, right?

Original - https://tiredhomeboi.tumblr.com/post/189063527428/i-made-an-overwatch-shipping-chart-if-anyone-wants

[jakiescokolwiek]

Now, Gabriel wonders what would have happened if he had turned around. Had Morrison hesitated and faltered in his step, waiting to be stopped, or merely pressed on without a glance back?

The chill slowly sets in his flesh and with the indifferent stars and the void of the space inside his helmet, Gabriel finds letting go is easier than he ever thought it to be. He slips his eyes closed and floats away.

And apparently, considering the amount of pain he wakes up to, letting go is worth shit, and some more. Something simmers under his skin, hot and freezing simultaneously. The light is too sharp and darkness crowds the edges of his vision. A voice, calling, insistent, drifts in and out, too lost in the static buzzing in his ears.

Gabriel rolls to the side and tumbles down to the ground, disoriented. Something is very wrong in how his body does not want to listen to what he tells it to do. Hearing and sight slowly return to him. Explosions. Shots. Structural damage if the tremors that run through his arms he leverages himself on are not originating from the muscles he feels like he is using for the first time in days. Voice, female, steady but hurried, calling him through the broadcasting systems.

“Reyes. Give me a sign you hear me. Stand up.” Gabriel hoists himself up and defiantly stares at the probable source of the voice, the rude gesture is an afterthought but brings a modicum of satisfaction. The room decidedly does not resemble a proper medical facility, the equipment speaks more of a science laboratory – and vertigo threatens him with nausea. “Good. The base is under attack and you need to move fast.”

The question of the woman’s trustworthiness hangs in the air but the sounds confirm the situation. Gabriel turns towards the door trying to keep his balance – something is off, the way he feels how his body catches up to his intentions. The corridor is empty, the smell of spent ammunition and smoke wafts from the outside.

“The security is compromised and there is no other personnel surviving. We do not have the feed from the next room but other sensors indicate at least one person, you have to find a way to bypass them.”

He notices Talon emblem on the wall, and that brings up many issues in a split second, the most disconcerting being what exactly is he doing in a facility clearly belonging to Talon, and why the woman speaking to him sounds as if he should be here. Gabriel sets the questions aside, the same as he does with his evident survival  of the assault on the Overwatch. He runs through possible scenarios as he approaches the door from the side, the rescue mission is a possibility considering the clear association of the base with Talon.

He has no suit and no weapon, which could prove troublesome, but overcoming one enemy while unarmed is not a hard feat, especially if he expects them to be inexperienced in comparison.

After the first shots are fired, Gabriel rushes forward taking in the details. No, no Alliance equipment, the assault rifle is of make not used by the military – ERCS. Not the rescue, at least not official mission, and the man shoots continuously without pause. The simmer and static rise in volume until it suddenly stops and he stands over a body, twisted and bent, skin grey and gaunt, stretched strangely over the facial bones, eyelids pulled back. He does not recollect what took place except the sudden rush forward.

“Now this is amazing,” a new voice joins in, an accent Gabriel cannot place, “the vitals show unexpected abrupt system stabilization.”

“Doctor, we have no time…”

“This is my experiment, Lacroix, I remind you.”

Gabriel picks up the rifle and checks the ammo. The sensation of being lagged and strangely displaced recedes.

“And this experiment, doctor, will prove to be a worthless venture if Reyes fails to join us. Reyes, you need to go up the stairs and reach the dock. The shortest route will have compromised security bots and human enemies.”

An experiment, an interesting thought. Gabriel cracks his neck and slowly ascends the stairs. The occasional droids he finds on his way are easy to dispose of – no living targets, only bodies. The first woman gives him steady instructions and warnings, and from other information that slips through her guidance he can glean the situation.

The Talon base he is traversing is, hilariously, under the attack by the members of the very same organization, the snake is eating its own tail. Lacroix’s allegiance also becomes clear. His own role in this whole mess is unexplained but at this precise moment he won’t look a gift horse in the mouth, not yet, not until he gets answers and blows this joint.

The door to the supposed dock hisses open and Gabriel is faced with the first sight of a human since the moment he woke up less than half hour ago. The woman stands pointing a pistol at a hunched down man with his hands in the air.

“Amelie, you don’t understand! What are you doin…” The woman fires a single shot and then holsters her gun turning towards him. Her visible skin gleams with an uncanny tint of bluish coloration.

“Finally, Reyes, you took your time, now put you weapon down because the only way you’re getting off this station is with us,” she nods at him, and Gabriel feels anger with her – a Talon member – trying to issue him orders. “He was the leader of this little mutiny,” Lacroix misinterprets his posture.

“What’s stopping me from blowing out your brains?”

“For starters, there is only one functional shuttle, and the only person that has access codes is me,” she shows her back and starts to walk away. “Follow me.”

“Not a care about any other survivors?” Gabriel lowers the rifle and follows slightly behind her.

“You are no stranger to necessary sacrifices yourself. Everyone in this facility is expendable but you. Even me, but only after I deliver you to a meeting with my superior.”

“I don’t trust you.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less of you, Reyes,” Lacroix lets him enter the ship first and closes the hatch behind, fiddles for a moment with the keypad. The undocking begins the moment he sits in front of the other woman inside, a redhead, in a much more flamboyant attire than Lacroix’s bodysuit. Heterochromia, judging by the unusual pigmentation, unless the eye is artificial, with metallic plaque around the socket.

“Attention to detail, good. Topical albinism,” the one Lacriox referred to as ‘doctor’ earlier gives explanation observing him with a scrutiny that makes his skin crawl. The simmer in his muscles is back. “The parameters still read off the charts, especially with the fact we had to jumpstart you before the planned date, but system stability holds. Tell me, Gabriel, what did you do then? Used medi-gel?”

“Doesn’t concern you,” she scoffs, rolling her eyes, and Lacroix seats herself next to her.

“On the contrary. Doctor O’Deorain is the head of the Reaper Project, and she is singlehandedly responsible for bringing you back to life,” Lacroix flicks open a datapad. “The whole venture took over twenty nine months since the moment we had recovered your body, and sunk more funds than the production cost of the Alliance fleet up to two years ago over the entire period of its existence. We had expected to exceed that significantly but the project had been cut short by seven months.”

Gabriel forces down the unease over the new information – if it’s even true – and puts the rifle on the seat to his right but keeps his hand on it.

“Please, Moira will suffice, and I’m amazed at the headway I had achieved, with the starting parameters he shouldn’t even be functional yet,” the doctor smirks. “Run the personality test.”

“I’m not something you can run tests on,” Gabriel snarls lunging forward, fingers clenching around her neck, digging into the jugulars, and momentarily he feels a cold twist in the back of his throat. His hand loses definition, the edges fuzzy, like smoke, but everything else in the backdrop keeps sharpness of its contours. “What have you done to…?”

Moira pins him with a glance.

“Sit down, Gabriel. It seems that the cohesion suffers in moments of agitation, dare I say, emotional agitation,” he releases her and falls back, staring at his fingers. “Interesting, it’s the same readings from a moment before the system’s stabilization. And to answer your question, I had introduced a swarm of my own design into your body to aid in the reconstruction and to jumpstart your organs. If you are worried about the grey goo scenario, I took the precautions. The swarm is keyed to your genetic blueprint and cannot interact in the same fashion with any other organic or inorganic matter. Amelie, the test.”

Gabriel still cannot tear away his gaze from his hand slowly returning to the solid shape.

“Of course, doctor. Now, Reyes, your career is a surprise with your background. An orphan without traceable kin, outside the system, enlisted military as soon as possible. Torfan, batarians?”

“I’m no stranger to necessary sacrifices, Lacroix, said that yourself. Done the job,” he growls, “some called me a criminal.”

“Which was a surprise considering that even earlier you were lauded for facing the impossible odds and leading your squad with minimal casualties on Elysium.”

“The strategic goal had been repelling the attack, not leading the offense.”

“I think you should try something more recent, we have to at least gauge if there are any significant reticency issues,” Moira fiddles with her omni-tool. “This is still ancient LTM.”

“Virmire,” Lacroix stares at him over the datapad. Virmire. One of the very close calls. The first friend he had lost. “Ana Amari, one associate that had been working with you the longest. Why have you left her behind to die?”

“It was her choice, and in the end it gave us the time we needed to obliterate the facility,” and this dull pressure on his lungs is the loss, the longing for her presence and advice.

[kiichu]

my overwatch shipping chart...... bc why not (original here)

[dominodebt]

ring, rang, rung

It’s McCree’s fault, honestly—but then what isn’t his fault?

           He’s sitting on the edge of Reyes’ desk—Blackwatch’s Commander keeps glancing over to make sure he isn’t defacing it with slurs against Morrison or phallic imagery, both things he’s been wont to do on many occasions—toying with something in his brown hands.

           Reyes leaves him to it, deciding to be thankful the whatever it is in the gunslinger’s grip isn’t a weapon for once—or at least not something that can be obviously identified as a weapon—when it catches the light filtering in from the slanted blinds, and Reyes blinks at the sudden flash of gold light that flares in the boy’s hands.

           McCree seems delighted at the discovery, and Reyes watches as he lays the object flat on his palm, turning it this way and that and watching it sparkle in the light.

           “It’s a ring,” the Commander observes, and it’s a testament to how enraptured McCree is by said ring that he doesn’t flick his buckshot eyes up to brightly and sarcastically congratulate Reyes on his mighty fine detective skills.

           McCree just nods, transfixed by the piece of jewelry. It’s a simple golden band, as far as Reyes can see. Slightly tarnished, but still glittering brightly in the sun.

           Reyes lifts his eyes from the ring back to McCree, noting his look of clear fascination. He pushes the report aside.

           “Who’s was it?” he asks. People don’t handle the belongings of strangers with the delicacy and respect McCree’s showing this ring. He didn’t know the scruffy ex-con was capable of such reverence.

           “My mama’s,” McCree answers, and Reyes’ eyes widen. His mother’s?

           A sly smile curves the gunslinger’s lips as he slides his gaze over to Reyes. “Well, maybe my mama’s. Could be wrong, but, there’s a non-zero chance of it not bein’ hers.”

           The phrase non-zero chance immediately alerts Reyes to the fact that Angela Ziegler had some hand in this situation, and he settles back in his chair, watching McCree watch the ring, wondering how he feels about that.

           Saying that something has a non-zero chance is her favorite phrase—well, one of her favorites. She has a lot of memorized quotes and lines she likes to whisper to him in native tongues and dead languages that make his pulse spike and breath catch.

           Only when she’s done riling him up—when their fire has cooled and they’re laying in the calm stillness—will she translate them. Her pale, calloused fingers walking over the broad expanse of his chest as her bangs tickle his ear, a smile in her voice as she recites the words of philosophers, poets, writers, and doctors.

           “Ange was doin’ some diggin’.” McCree’s knowing grin lets Reyes know that he knows exactly where his mind had drifted off to, and Reyes gives him a warning look as he glances back at him.

           “Digging where?” Reyes asks, idly wondering how many pet projects and side ventures she’s working on in addition to the mountain of duties Overwatch tasked her with. He makes a mental note to bully her into eating something from one of the basic fucking food groups and see if there’s anything he can help her with.

           McCree shrugs. “Not sure, honestly.” He’s gone back to staring at the ring. “We just kinda got started talkin’ about family one day—I think it was her dad’s birthday? Or what would’ve been, I guess.” He glances up at Reyes, a little helplessly. “Y’know how she can get.”

           Reyes nods, thinking of all the times he’s seen those impossibly blue eyes spark with something—intuition, anger, knowledge, fear—and then watched her turn away from the middle of a conversation to lock herself in her lab.

          What she does is anyone’s guess, but she’ll stay in until she’s done what she set out to do or the next fucking Ice Age rolls in—whichever comes first.

          McCree balances the ring on his thumb and flips it like a coin. Reyes’ tracks its brief trip up, watches it wink in the light, before it falls back down into the gunslinger’s waiting palm. He curls his fingers over it protectively.

          “Came outta her safe deposit box,” he explains. “My mom’s, I mean. Ange ran a bunch of tests on it, checkin’ fer DNA an’ all that.” He shrugs, and Reyes watches as he pockets the ring before lifting his gaze. “She said it’s so old ‘n tampered with she didn’ feel right givin’ me a hundred percent, but half-best from Angela Ziegler is better than a lot of folks’ best efforts, y’know?”

          Reyes nods again. He does know.

          Silence settles between them, but Reyes knows McCree has more to say. The air’s too heavy, his gaze too serious. The Commander cocks a questioning brow, meeting the gunslinger’s eyes.

          McCree doesn’t disappoint.

          “Y’all ever gonna get over yerselves ‘n get married er what?”

          Reyes stares back at him evenly, chin resting on his folded fingers, privately deciding that while that’s not the most unexpected thing to come out of Jesse McCree’s mouth, it definitely charts.

          “I beg your fucking pardon.”

           “C’mon.” McCree slips backwards off the desk, placing his hands on the dark wood as he appeals to Reyes. “Don’t get all huffy. Y’all have been datin’ fer years now—”

           “We aren’t dating, Jesse, for god’s sake, this is a military operation—”

           “It’s a goddamn, shambly mess of a family is what it is—”

           “That is not an improvement.”

           Reyes just sighs. He should never have asked. He hasn’t even had fucking coffee yet—what was he thinking letting the living headache that is Jesse McCree into his office at all?

           He mops his face with his hands, already planning his trip to Angela’s lab so McCree won’t have a chance to run this shit past her before Reyes can warn her.

           It’s half for her sake—she doesn’t need the headache—but mostly for McCree’s. He has no idea what her response would be, but there is a definite non-zero chance of it involving violence.

          “C’mon, Gabe,” McCree says again, all wide-eyed and earnest imploring like he’s begging for permission to go on a mission with Genji to Hanamura that definitely doesn’t involve hunting down members of the Shimada Clan (it does) and not proposing that Reyes pop the fucking question to Angela goddamn Ziegler.

           Reyes drops his hands, looking up to give—as Angela so brightly coined—his shitty cowboy son a look of flat annoyance.

           “How long have you been sitting on this?” he asks.

           McCree rocks back on his heels, and Reyes arches an eyebrow.

           “Jesse—?”

           “Since King’s Row.”

           Reyes kicks himself. He should have known not to use up all his shock on McCree’s first absurd statement—of course there’d be more, absurder statements to follow, because it’s Jesse fucking McCree and he’s a bottomless pit of absurdity. A goddamn matryoshka doll of stupid.

           “Since King’s Row? Jesse, that was years ago—we weren’t even—we’d hardly—”

           McCree smirks as Reyes struggles to avoid putting a timestamp on his relationship with Angela.

           “Yes?” he prompts, smugly, because he’s an asshole.

           “Shitty cowboy son,” Angela’s voice singsongs in Reyes’ subconscious.

           Reyes flings the boy a look of warning as he pushes himself away from his desk. “You can shove that smirk straight up your ass, Jesse,” he says. “And if you bother Angela with this, I’ll shove it for you, and maybe a couple of limbs for good measure.”

           McCree steps back as Reyes gathers his documents. “Don’cha wanna know why I’ve thought this since King’s Row?” he drawls, completely disregarding Reyes’ only half-insincere threat.

           Yes. “No,” he remarks stiffly, moving to grab his hoodie. Ange always keeps her lab so fucking cold for absolutely no reason.

           “’Cause that’s when she hacked into like, three security systems without the help of a tech, practically resurrected Lena while under fire, and fuckin’ pistol whipped an OR15.” He pauses, before adding. “Oh yeah, ‘n she told Morrison to fuck off in front of a buncha people.”

           Reyes sighs as he dons the hoodie. “If there’s a point to this, get there now,” he says, though he does appreciate the reminder of Dr. Ziegler—Overwatch’s legendary Mercy—telling Overwatch’s Strike Commander he could rot in hell for an eternity when he suggested she be sidelined for the remaining mission, as he didn’t want to exhaust her.

           Morrison hadn’t meant it as an insult, but really. He should have known better. Reyes and Ana had picked the exchange up over the comms and Ana had almost fallen out of her chair she was laughing so hard, while Reyes just stared at the pale slip of a genius, like he’d just now really seen her properly for the first time.

            And as charming as the memory is—and as correct as McCree is in guessing the origins of his affection for the doctor—he’s very curious as to how he came across such information, given he’d been three countries over, hot on Widowmaker’s trail at the time.

           He considers asking McCree as much, when the answer occurs to him—Ana fucking Amari.

           McCree grins like he can read his thoughts—it’s a possibility Reyes hasn’t totally ruled out—and the Commander glares back at him.

           “Don’t go running your mouth about this,” Reyes warns him, pointing a finger. “If I hear anyone else talking about this, I’ll ship your ass out to Ecopoint: Antarctica.”

           McCree replies with a flat look because no, Reyes, you won’t do that, because underneath it all you’re a huge sofite and you’d never ship your shitty cowboy son anywhere.

           “Sure, Commander,” McCree drawls back, snapping a sarcastic salute. “Whatever you say.”

           Reyes gives him a look that lets him know he’ll pay for that sarcasm later before he pulls from the room.

                                                          -0-

She doesn’t answer at his knock, which he takes as an invitation.

           Her back’s to the door, and he pauses to take in the scene before him.

           “Your son,” Angela begins, and Reyes cocks an eyebrow as he leans against the doorframe, watching her struggle for a bottle of all-purpose cleaner that’s been stashed on top of the actual cupboard, a good foot and a half above Angela’s searching hand. “Is gonna get his kneecaps broken if he doesn’t stop rearranging my supplies.”

           Reyes can’t stop a smirk that twists his lips. “Genji?” he asks, feigning sincerity. “I’m appalled.”

           He dons his poker face forcefully as she turns her head to assess him over her shoulder with the flattest look of unamusement he’s ever seen.

           “I will feed his hat to my incinerator, Gabriel, so help me.”

           Reyes finally cracks a grin, and she offers him a sly, half-smirk in reply as he enters her lab and walks towards her, idly kicking the door shut behind him.

           “You have an incinerator?” he asks, drawing nearer and watching as she turns to meet him, fists propped on her hips.

           She scoffs. “Of course I have an incinerator.”

           The moment is so wholly and singularly Angela—arms akimbo, hair a fluffy mess, expression indignant like she’s offended he ever doubted her possession of a fucking incinerator—that he can’t stop the smile that warms his face.

           God, he loves her.

           The thought—just as true as it’s been every other time he’s thought it—draws him up short, and he goes still for a moment, mind wildly reeling back to his conversation with McCree, the glint of the wedding ring—

           He stuffs it behind a neutral expression as he finally settles before her, and she tips her head back to meet his gaze.

           One of her eyebrows twitch upwards—both an unasked question and a reminder that yes, she fucking saw that—and he just waves her off as he circles his arms around her waist, pulling her flush against him.

           She huffs a sigh as he draws her up to him—contended and tired—as she melts into him, every part of her body liquefying to fill his spaces as she turns her head to rest it against his chest, listening to the sturdy rhythm of his heartbeat

           “What’re you thinking about?” he murmurs after a beat, pressing his cheek against her hair.

           She hums thoughtfully. He can feel the noise in their closeness.

           “How I can steal Jesse’s hat and replace it with a pile of ashes.”

           He closes his eyes. “Ange.”

           “I won’t really burn in. Just make him sweat for a few hours.” He can feel her smirk against his chest. “I bet if I asked Genji he’d steal it for me.”

           Reyes snorts. There’s a pretty high probability of Genji stealing the hat without being asked, just to be an ass.

           Silence lulls over them again—warm and comfortable—and Reyes is just gathering the nerve to tell her why he’d come when she interrupts.

           “This is lovely and all, but I really do need that cleaner,” she tells him lightly, pulling back to gesture with her chin at the bottle McCree had hidden away out of reach.

           Reyes just huffs out a laugh as he stoops down to gather her legs in his arms before hoisting her up.

           “Lift with your legs, Commander,” she reminds him, patting his shoulder with a smirk.

           He rolls his eyes. “I could bench press, like, eight of you.”

           “Mm-hm,” she hums back, distracted as Reyes straightens back up, their semi-combined height allowing her to pluck the cleaner off its unintended perch. “Of course you could, sweetheart.”

           “You only use terms of endearment when you’re being a shit,” Reyes points out, smirking back.

           Angela gives a false gasp at the accusation, splaying the fingers of her free hand over her theatrically dropped jaw.

           “Me?” she asks, eyes going wide. “Oh, my love, my darling, my sugar-coated dish of key lime pie à la mode—”

           “I will drop you,” Reyes threatens.

           She snorts and waves his warning off and he in turn gently lowers her back to the ground.

           He watches her idly as she tugs down her sweatshirt where it’d bunched up under his arms, throwing her ponytail over her shoulder with a mindless flick of her wrist. For a brief moment, he sees the phantom flash of a ring accompany the moment, and grits his teeth as his eyes dart away.

           Goddammit, Jesse.

           Feeling her gaze, Reyes glances back. She tilts her head, forcing an errant blonde curl to fall away as she squints up into his face, searching his expression.

           “What’s up?” she asks, gaze flittering about his form like she’d missed some kind of gaping wound before drifting back to his eyes. “You seem off.”

           McCree asked me when we’re getting married and I haven’t stopped thinking about it since.

He has to bite his tongue against blurting it out as she turns away to begin cleaning. He wonders if he can read the truth in his eyes. He wouldn’t be surprised.

           “McCree showed me his mom’s ring,” he says instead, waiting until she’s done spraying down her side of the counter before taking the bottle from her to spray his.

           “What could be his mother’s ring,” she corrects him—automatically, a reflex. One of the hardest things new recruits have to weather is Dr. Ziegler’s inherent need to right wrong information. She means nothing by it—it’s just her body’s visceral response to hearing lies and half-truths, no matter how serious or benign.

           “Wise shall be the bearers of light,” she’d murmured to him once in the darkness of his quarters.

           “What could be his mother’s ring,” he allows, as she begins working a towel over the counter. He pauses. “It was nice of you to do that.”

           She puffs up her cheek with a large breath, then blows it out slowly, hands on her hips as she surveys her side of the counter.

           “It was the least I could do,” she murmurs. “Besides—the boy could use a good heirloom.”

           Reyes snorts at that as she throws the towel his way. “Do heirlooms build character now?” he asks, automatically tensing when she punches his shoulder.

           “He needed something to ground himself with,” she replies. “He’s not a drifting, wandering outlaw anymore. I hoped I could find something to remind him of that.”

           Reyes nods, sobering. He can understand that.

           He personally doesn’t have any such heirloom, but he knows she does. An elegant ring—stunning in its simplicity, radiating a quiet beauty. It had belonged to her mother and never leaves her bedroom.

           She’d shown it to him, once. It had dazzled under the soft glow of her bedside lamp, and Reyes had traced the intricacy of the band as she chattered quietly about her mother, her father, her childhood. A legacy she’d built for herself from the ashes of what she’d lost.

           Neither of them had even considered the marital part of the ring—it was early days, yet, and they were still caught up in the whirling storm that was them being together to think of anything else.

           Now, though, it’s all he can see.

           He curses McCree again. Maybe he will help Angela burn that hat.

           Angela arches an eyebrow as she watches him, and he realizes he has no idea what his face has been doing for the past thirty seconds.

           “You sure McCree didn’t say anything else?” she asks calmly. “You’re definitely bothered by something.”

           He doesn’t understand why he can’t tell her. Isn’t that the whole reason he came here? The words are stuck in his throat, struggling for a handhold on his tongue.

           He skirts her gaze. “Just typical shitty cowboy nonsense,” he answers.

           Her eyes linger on him for a moment before she seems to accept it—or at least decides not to push anymore—and moves across her lab, shedding her sweatshirt as she does.

           “I’ve got a meeting with Morrison and Lena—I think he’s still worried about that sprain, even though I’ve cleared her a dozen times.” She rolls her eyes as she shrugs on her lab coat and pulls her hair out of its ponytail, letting it tumble around her shoulders.

           Reyes watches her from the same spot, lifting an eyebrow. “You know how Morrison can be,” he offers.

           Angela makes a face and he chuckles before she’s gathered her papers and files and is passing him to leave.

           She stills—he knew she would—and slots her hip against his, leaning against him as she lifts her eyes to his.

           “Ana’s in the training facility,” she tells him quietly, lifting an eyebrow. She nudges him gently, and he curls a hand around her waist in response, fingers splaying out over her ribs and curling just slightly.

           “Talk to her,” she insists. “I just—something’s clearly got you distracted.”

           “It’s you,” he tells her honestly.

           Her soft, warm expression sours as she shoots him a sardonic look, and he chuckles, pressing a kiss into her hair.

           “You are such a shit,” she tells him, but there’s no heat to her words.

           He grins, pulling back and dropping his arm.

           “What happened to sugar-coated dish of key lime pie—?”

           Angela huffs, moving past him towards the door and shouldering it open with a roll of her eyes. “Goodbye, Gabriel.”

           He watches her go for a beat—it’s always strange, being alone in her lab. He doesn’t like it. His gaze plays over the lab, and as he steps towards the door, a sudden flash catches snags his peripheral, and he turns to see his shift in angle allowed him to see light of the sun catch on one of her beakers, making it shine.

          He stares at it for a moment.

          Then he heads for the training facility.

wow what's up I still remember how to write.

It's been a while since I've posted anything, and I still haven't really been feeling much motivation to write, and then out of nowhere at 3am I literally jolted awake and was like "what if McCree brought up marriage and hilarity ensued?"and here we are. I wrote this in A Day. Less than

please keep all of that in mind when reading this lmao

I think I'm going to make this a small series because I had so much fun writing this and want to include the other characters. Plus Ange and Gabe ain't gonna decide to get married in barely three thousand words okay like that's just not happening. Also: this is for fun. I know a lot of the stuff I write has very specific canon perimeters but this is just a dumb fun thing. Don't overthink it guys.

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[moonshinedoodles]

Overwatch Ship Chart update!! blank chart here ^_^  (now with Orisa!)  i guess i can say that this is also for my new followers to know a bit more about me :D 

my original ship chart

explanations of sorts under the cut 

I kept it pretty much the same with some additions, changes and some that I left out the last time. 

-Not my Ship (not for me, you do you, i could care less, just keep it away from me) 

anything incest is a big NO so ofc amari//cest and shimada//cest is a big NOPE for me. widow//hanzo, d.va//76 (im her age and when i stumble upon art of them, it’s very derogatory and gross) winston is still a gorilla, please no. mercy//kill is another i’m not a big fan of. mei//hem, hacker//kill?? idk i just don’t seem them as a love pairing.  and for the love of all things holy, please don’t ever ship Efi with Lucio. she is a fucking child. that’s pedophilia!!! 

-Best Friend

Orisa joins Lucio and Rein in Best Friend material club lol 

Orisa and Efi, Orisa and Lucio, Lucio and Efi (as idol and fan), mccree and genji, widow reaper and sombra, winston and athena, winston tracer and emily, roadhog and junkrat, bastion and ganymede, zenyatta and genji, hanzo and genji, ana reaper soldier torb and reinhardt, d.va lucio and junkrat. mercy and ana, mercy and zarya. mercy and pharah, ana and pharah. 

-i dont have a problem with

zarmei, mcgenji, mcreaper / mcreyes, mercy76, ana76, widowtracer, spiderbyte, pharmetra, pharmercy, reincio, gency, boombox, sombra x zarya, somva, tracer x d.va, orisa x zenyatta, orisa x bastion (LET THE OMNICS LOVE FFS) 

-good shit 

genyatta, gencio, roadrat, symbra, anahardt, bunnyribbit, widow x happiness, widow and gerard (pre talon), torb and his super pretty wife, tracer x emily 

FUCK YEA (still the same lol) 

McHanzo and Reaper76

[maximummightyx]

hello overwatch fandom, ive seen this lovely chart created by @minafi circulating around my dashboard, which you can find here: http://minafi.tumblr.com/post/155044948599/these-statistics-are-based-on-the-number-of-times

what isnt so lovely is that theres a second version being passed around by an incest shipper (whose url is manaverisdrac0na) which scrubs out any mention of incest and claiming the original promoted “ship hate :(” and that they improved it.

be careful about what you reblog before you reblog it. check for red flags. when someone complains about “ship hate,” there is a very good chance its a ship that deserves to be hated.

[frozendoorgaming]

Morning Mist #66

Announcements, Releases, Trailers

God of War: The Card Game now Available

ESPN say they've got a document revealing Overwatch 2

Rumor: Overwatch 2 to graft PvE gameplay onto the original

Microsoft revives Xbox All Access program, now includes next-gen upgrade option

Death Stranding confirmed for PC

New Warriors Orochi 4 Ultimate Trailer Has Charming New Song by Saori Hayami & Cutscenes Aplenty

Shared_Anxieties.exe is a desktop pal with a lot on their mind

Places returns with a new walking simulator Sketch

Sinking Simulator, the relaxing game about wreaking needless destruction on ships, is now on Steam

Vampire: The Masquerade – Coteries of New York gameplay trailer

Milestones, Industry

Another popular Twitch streamer leaves for Mixer

Tales from the making of Jedi Knight II: Jedi Outcast

Year on Year Sales & Market Share Charts

Deals, Freeware

Get 66% off Two Point Hospital as things get spooky

Falcon Northwest Talon gaming PC review — AMD is back in 20th anniversary edition

10 Apple Arcade puzzle games that will make you smarter while you play

Carrion, the promising 'reverse horror' game, gets free demo on Steam

$2 Samsung - Gear VR Controller - Black at Best Buy

Mix & Match Buy 2 Get 1 Free Target Deals

Information

Class warfare has come to Fallout 76

Legendary Leif Heading to Fire Emblem Heroes on October 29

Don't go to your inventory screen if you want your Apex Legends' Fight or Fright win to count

The Occupy White Walls Deep State update turns interrogation rooms into art

The Outer Worlds: List of All Censored Names For Character Creation

Etc

Gaming the game: Popular video games can be vulnerable to hackers

Japan's Best Boring Halloween Costumes

The Most Expensive Pokémon Card On Earth Sold For $195,000

[fandom]

Fandometrics In Depth: Overwatch Edition

One year ago today, Overwatch was released by Blizzard Entertainment. The game had an immediate and overwhelming impact on Tumblr, and the #overwatch tag was quickly flooded with animated shorts, comics, fan art, and, of course, toddler approval of Junkrat.  

To mark this anniversary of this game-to-end-all-games, we’ve analyzed millions of posts from May 23, 2016—May 18, 2017 to precisely identify the most talked about Overwatch characters and ships. Enjoy.

Overwatch is huge

During this 358 day period, the #overwatch tag alone garnered nearly 150 million engagements. It was the second most trending tag during this time. That’s trendier than every TV show and film, and even bigger, more generic tags like #GIF (No. 5) and #art (No. 7). The next highest trending video game-related tag was #Pokémon, at No. 20.

Overwatch made its debut on the Fandometrics Video Games list on March 14th, 2016 at No. 16, more than two months before the game was even released. On May 9, 2016 Overwatch jumped a solid ten spots to No. 2. The following week, it was No. 1.  It reigned supreme until July 11th, 2016, when it was kicked out by Pokémon Go. Currently Overwatch has had a 29-week streak at No. 1, beating the previous record for time at the top of the Video Games list by two months (and counting). Undertale topped off at just 21 weeks.

Top Characters

We did a full breakdown of all 24 character’s total engagements based on class. The highlights?  Reaper had the most likes and reblogs, Junkrat had the most searches and Mercy had the most original posts. The details? Below:

Top Offense Heroes

Reaper | 20.07%

Tracer | 15.82%

McCree | 15.08%

Genji | 14.16%

Sombra | 12.84%

Soldier: 76 | 11.70%

Pharah | 10.33%

Top Defense Heroes

Junkrat | 32.36%

Hanzo | 24.44%

Widowmaker | 21.93%

Mei | 13.71%

Bastion | 4.53%

Torbjörn | 3.03%

Top Tank Heroes

D.Va | 39.12%

Roadhog | 21.25%

Zarya | 14.72%

Reinhardt | 13.76%

Orisa | 5.85%

Winston | 5.30%

Top Support Heroes

Mercy | 43.31%

Zenyatta | 20.83%

Lúcio | 19.22%

Symmetra | 15.92%

Ana | 0.73%

Top Non-Playable Characters

Efi Oladele | 52.71%

Athena | 18.11%

Doomfist | 11.47%

Tekhartha Mondatta | 10.01%

Katya Volskaya | 4.61%

Emily | 3.09%

Top Ships

With more than 20 characters, Overwatch fandom is rife for shipping. You can find a ship chart for just about any combination you can think of—a possible 276 unique combinations. For the sake of brevity, we highlighted just the top 10:

McHanzo, McCree x Hanzo | 35.03%

Reaper:76, Reaper x Soldier:76 | 17.03%

Pharmercy, Pharah x Mercy | 12.69%

Widowtracer, Widowmaker x Tracer | 9.08%

Roadrat, Roadhog x Junkrat | 8.82%

Genyatta, Genji x Zenyatta | 6.76%

Gency, Genji x Mercy | 5.84%

Meihem, Mei x Junkrat | 2.48%

Mercykill, Mercy x Reaper | 1.17%

Mercy76, Mercy x Soldier:76 | 1.10%

Want more Overwatch?

The fan art and headcanons (Gremlin D.Va, anyone?) that people share across Tumblr are an excellent way to keep a steady stream of Overwatch flow in your dashboard:

Overwatch Fan Art (@overwatch-fan-art), curating the best fan art from across the web

Overwatch memes (@overwatchmemes), for all the best humor from the game

Totally Canon Overwatch Quotes (@incorrect-overwatch-quotations) for conversations you know totally happened.

[mukyoucom]

PlayStation Store: May’s Top Downloads

From Playstation Blog USA

Welcome back! This month, NetherRealm’s acclaimed superhero brawler Injustice 2 leads the charge on the PS4 top downloads list, with a bloodthirsty Jason Voorhees lurking behind it in Friday the 13th: The Game. Farpoint launched at number 1 on the PlayStation VR chart, but Star Trek Bridge Crew made an impressive debut considering its late-in-the-month release date.

Read on for the full list of top downloads for May. If you missed out on any of these games, head on over to PlayStation Store to pick ’em up!

Predictions for June?

PS4 Games 1 Injustice 2 2 Friday the 13th: The Game 3 NBA Playgrounds 4 The Order: 1886 5 God of War III Remastered 6 TOM CLANCY’S RAINBOW SIX SIEGE 7 Overwatch Game of the Year Edition 8 Rocket League 9 Minecraft: PlayStation 4 Edition 10 ARK: Survivor’s Pack 11 Prey 12 Grand Theft Auto V 13 NieR: Automata 14 Darksiders: Fury’s Collection – War and Death 15 Tom Clancy’s Ghost Recon Wildlands 16 Little Nightmares 17 Outlast 2 18 Bloodborne 19 MLB THE SHOW 17 20 Middle-earth: Shadow of Mordor – Game of the Year Edition

PS3 Games 1 God of War: Ascension 2 God of War Collection 3 Star Wars The Force Unleashed II 4 Minecraft: PlayStation 3 Edition 5 God of War: Origins Collection 6 Super Street Fighter II Turbo HD Remix 7 SteinsGate 8 The Last Of Us 9 Grand Theft Auto V 10 Pro Evolution Soccer 2017 11 Catherine 12 Twisted Metal 13 EA SPORTS FIFA 17 14 Darksiders + Darksiders II Ultimate Edition 15 PlayStation All-Stars Battle Royale 16 Tomb Raider 17 Plants vs. Zombies Garden Warfare 18 Call of Duty: Black Ops II 19 Need for Speed Most Wanted 20 The Bureau: XCOM Declassified

PS4 Add-ons 1 Call of Duty Black Ops III: Zombies Chronicles 2 The Elder Scrolls Online: Tamriel Unlimited – ESO Plus 3 Injustice 2 Darkseid 4 Black Ops III – The Giant Zombies Map 5 NieR: Automata 3C3C1D119440927 6 FOR HONOR SEASON PASS 7 Persona 5 Messiah & Messiah Picaro Set 8 Rocket League – The Fate of the Furious Ice Charger 9 Battlefield 1 Premium Pass 10 Call of Duty: Infinite Warfare – DLC2 Continuum

PS VR Games 1 Farpoint 2 Star Trek: Bridge Crew 3 Job Simulator 4 Statik 5 Dick Wilde 6 Battlezone 7 Mortal Blitz 8 Batman: Arkham VR 9 Fruit Ninja VR 10 Time Machine VR

PS Vita Games 1 SteinsGate 2 God of War: Collection PS Vita 3 Persona 4 Golden 4 PlayStation All-Stars Battle Royale PS Vita 5 MeiQ: Labyrinth of Death 6 Adventure Time: The Secret of the Nameless Kingdom 7 The Caligula Effect: Deluxe Digital Bundle 8 Salt and Sanctuary 9 Ys: Memories of Celceta 10 Steins;Gate 0

PS Classics 1 Twisted Metal: Black 2 Star Ocean Till The End Of Time 3 Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas 4 Destroy All Humans! 5 Resident Evil Code: Veronica X 6 Bully 7 Suikoden II 8 Mega Man Legends 9 War of the Monsters 10 METAL SLUG ANTHOLOGY

farpointinjustice 2PlayStation 4playstation gamesplaystation store

The post PlayStation Store: May’s Top Downloads appeared first on Ship 2 Block 20.

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