#but i have to work on this stupid ugly poster. the topic is fucking boring and i dont want to do it

[thiswasinevitableid]

71. you’re famous and you want to hide out in my bookstore which is fine except the stupid paparazzi won’t leave and now there’s a photo of us in the tabloids and they’re printing misinformation and why the fuck won’t you clear this up on your twitter account

Sternclay, NSFW, please!

Here you go! Let's end this round of meet uglies with a bang

The post-holiday slump is always the worst; everyone maxed out their credit cards last month and doesn’t want to buy anything, and the tourists won’t be back until the spring. It’s not that he’s concerned about keeping the lights on; Bookworms is popular and has a prime spot downton. It’s that he’s bored out of his mind.

All his orders for the day are in, everything’s been received and shelved, and he’s running out of things to tidy. If he’s lucky, the clouds that have been threatening a snowstorm since this morning will burst and drive some people to shelter among the stacks.

Dingdong

Thank the lord.

“Welcome to Bookworms, can I help you?”

The man stays by the door, peering through the glass onto the street while pulling off his beanie, “Huh? Oh, uh, nope, just coming in to, uh, get out of the cold.” He turns, and two realizations slap Joseph in the face.

One: this is the hottest man he has ever had the pleasure of seeing.

Two: He’s seen this man dozens of times, just never in person.

Barclay Cobb is a Food Network darling who got his start on Youtube, sharing recipes from vintage cookbooks he found at garage sales. That’s not why he’s starstruck, but it is probably why the taller man is hiding in the craft books alcove and keeps nervously looking his way.

“I won’t tell anyone you’re here, Mr. Cobb.”

“Phew” the man sighs, unzips his jacket, “thanks man. Thought I’d be bundled up enough that no one would spot me while I was out, but I didn’t get my hat on in time coming out of the Chinese place down the block.”

“I love that spot, they have the best beer-braised duck.”

“Yeah, I always stop by when I’m in town, they’re food is worth getting photographed for.”

It’s odd, everything he’s read suggests chef Cobb is friendly and warm when approached by fans in public.

“It’s not that I don’t appreciate that people like my shows but, I, uh, sometimes I just want to eat or walk down the street without someone taking pictures of me.”

“Do you want to head into the back sections? There’s no windows in that half of the store.”

“Sweet, thanks. Uh, would it be cool if I autographed any books of mine you have? I like doing that, means I can send a little business towards smaller stores.”

“Of course. Here, the cookbooks are on this wall.” He slips into his office to grab a sharpie while Barclay pulls a stack of books and sits down on the floor. As the scratching of the pen fills the air, Joseph takes a trip to the paranormal and occult section, coming back with three copies of The Case for Bigfoot.”

“Y’know, not everyone stocks these.” Barclay smiles as he adds the paperbacks to the pile.

“Which is terrible business; you’re just as famous in the cryptozoology community as you are in the foodie one. This is the best book on bigfoot ever written, and I should know; I run a, um, a blog where I review books on paranormal topics.”

“You a true believer?” The cook blows on his signature in the copy of Desserts for All Seasons

“More an optimistic skeptic; your book is perfect because you make your case using actual evidence instead of reporting the same ten, poorly verified stories that everyone includes in their books. And I appreciated that you included recipes from the places you visited; that was a very nice touch.”

“Funny story about that” Barclay freezes as the front door opens. There’s definitely more than one person coming in, and when Joseph pokes his head around the corner he sees fifteen people, all with cameras or phones.

“Shit. You might want to hide in my office for a few minutes.”

By the time the crowd reaches him, Joseph is almost done re-shelving the signed books.

“Good afternoon, let me know if you need help finding anything.”

“Uh, yeah, we do, someone saw Barclay Cobb in your store-”

“Strange, we’ve only had one customer” he winces as someone’s shoulder knocks a hardcover off its display, “I didn’t get a good look at them before they went downstairs.” He tips his head at the staircase to the YA and Graphic Novel sections and is promptly knocked into the shelf as the throng hurries away.

“Come on, I can get you out through the back door” Joseph whispers to the Red Dust on his Soul poster on his office door. Barclay is remarkably quiet for a man his size as they sneak across the floor and let frigid, January air rush into the store.

“Thanks man” Barclay whispers, “I owe you one.” He sets a big hand on Joseph’s shoulder, squeezes it with a wink, then pulls on his hat and disappears into a crowd coming off at the bus stop.

---------------------------------------------------

Joseph always comes in through the back, flipping on lights as he goes, so the sea of bodies pressed to the front windows like a zombie horde surprises him. He knows Barclay tweeted about the signed copies, but this seems like excessive excitement even for a celebrity chef.

“Morning, Joseph--whoa, what the heck?” Aubrey clocks in without taking her eyes off the crowd, “why is everyone here this early.”

“Fan culture. I think.” The registers finish waking up, “I’ll pay holiday rates if you open that door for me.”

Aubrey gives a thumbs up, unlocks the double doors, and is swallowed up so quickly he worries she might have been trampled until she emerges near the greeting cards. Some people swarm the cookbooks, but an alarming number cluster around the counter, all shouting for his attention.

“How long have you been seeing Chef Cobb?”

“What?, I, I’m not-”

“Does he often visit your store?”

“No! He just came by yesterday!” There’s a horrible clatter of all the books on display near the door taking each other out like dominoes.

“Do you fuck in the backroom all the time?”

“Oh come on” He pushes past the man who asked that, deals with shouting all the way to his office and slams the door. A quick Google search for “Barclay Cobb” brings up a blurry photo of them in the alley, Barclays hand on his shoulder, and multiple headlines speculating on why the reclusive chef and author has chosen a nobody bookstore employee (he’s the owner, damn it) as his lover.

Okay, there’s a logical, easy fix to this.

He opens the door enough to speak, whistles so everyone will be quiet and listen to him, “I’m sorry, there’s been a misunderstanding. Mr. Cobb isn’t in any kind of relationship with me; he just came into the store yesterday for some peace and quiet. So, if you’re looking for information about him, this is not the place for it. If you’re looking for the signed books, the cookbooks are there, and the paranormal section is just around that corner.” He gives his best customer service smile as the paparazzi exchange perplexed glances.

“...Is it true he bought you this store?”

“Wh--no! We rent this space.”

“From him?”

“Arggh!” He closes the door, slumps against it and cards his fingers through his hair. As he contemplates closing for the day, he spots a little, copper card on his desk. It’s Barclay’s, which is what he expected, but when he flips it over there’s a message scribbled in pen.

Main St Hotel, room 503, here until Monday.

He pulls out his phone, tells Aubrey she’s allowed to get the crowd out by any means necessary except for fire, and elbows his way out into the winter air.

------------------------------------------

Barclay almost purrs when he peers through the peephole in the hotel door; Joseph, as his nametag read, is standing on the carpet, looking twice as handsome as he did yesterday. His cheeks are even a little pink, and Barclay has some thoughts on how to make that blush deepen.

“Hey, glad you found-”

Joseph holds up his phone, screen in Barclays face, “please fix this.”

“Oh fuck.” He ushers him in, “I’m so sorry, I thought they’d stopped doing this shit.”

“No, and they’re fucking up my inventory as a result.”

“On it, lemme text my assistant, she’s good at drafting these kind of messages.”

“Thank the lord. Right, thank you for that, I’ll go now.”

“Wait” Barclay reminds his instincts that blocking the door is rude, “do you wanna stay a few minutes? You look kinda stressed.”

“Because my store is being overrun!” Joseph snaps, then takes a deep breath and straightens his sleeves, “I’m sorry, that wasn’t called for, this morning has just been a mess. And it, um, it’s a little bittersweet to have people thinking I could land a hot chef when I can’t get past a first date with most people. Um, sorry. Too much information. That’s a bad habit of mine.”

Barclay tucks his hands into his pants pockets, “About that. Y’know how I left my card?”

Blue eyes blink, then brighten, “I thought that might be the reason but I dismissed it as wishful thinking.”

“Nope. A guy who's hot, nerdy, and competent enough to sneak me away from the paparazzi? Sign me the fuck up.”

“I’m not opposed to a, um, tryst, but I really, really need to get back to the store, I can’t abandon Aubrey to deal with this mess on her own, that’s not fair, and now we’ll have to reorder things too....” He laughs, a tense sound, “good lord, I get a chance to fuck a celebrity crush and I’m turning it down for work.”

“Hey” Barclay sets his hands on Joseph’s shoulders, “it’s okay. You’re not the first guy to be married to his job. But, uh, out of curiosity, you got any vacation days to spare?”

----------------------------------------------

“This is all yours?” Joseph takes in the sprawling farm as Barclay unlocks the front door of a charmingly rustic house.

“Yep, all the way to the creek and all the way to the road. Might surprise you, but I like my privacy.”

“I’d never have guessed.” He replies with faux shock.

“Smartass.” Barclay kisses his cheek, holds the door open with his shoulder so Joseph can pull his bags inside. He packed as light and efficiently as he could for two weeks away (he’d initially planned on one until Aubrey and Moira ganged up on him and told him he hadn’t taken a real vacation in years so he was taking one now, damn it) but his suitcase is still heavy as he rolls it to the stairs.

“I got that.” Barclay shoulders his own travel bag and hoists Joseph’s in the other hand, carrying them to the second floor like they’re nothing more than pillows.

The week the chef was in Madison, Joseph went to his hotel almost every night. Fell asleep in his bed more than once, when discussions of fusion cuisine or the Fresno Nightcrawler turned into frantic, heated kisses under the covers. It’s only when the cook drops all luggage into the master bedroom that the truth of why he’s on this trip sets in.

“You really invited me all the way here because you think I’m hot.”

“Yeah but no.” Barclay drapes his arms over his shoulders, lips still a little chilly as he kisses them, “brought you here because you’re smart” another kiss, this one on his jaw, “and funny” another, on his nose, “and you’re the biggest bigfoot fan I know.”

“You wrote a book on it!”

“Point stands. And yeah” he pushes Joseph back so he lands on the bed, crawling atop him as he growls, “I invited you here because you’re so hot I wanna pour sugar on you and see if it melts. Now get your pants off; I’ve been thinking about sucking your dick since we left the city.”

------------------------------------------

“How did the whole bigfoot thing start?” Joseph sips his Irish Coffee as Barclay puts his feet into his lap.

“Guess the same way any famous person ends up with two gigs; I was doing the thing I love, then was dicking around on cryptid hunter forums and found out I was also hella good at researching bigfoot. By the time I got really into it, I had enough cash that I could write my book without worrying about going broke. Helps that I’d handed off The Arch and The Lodge and was just the exec chef on them, since then I could travel if I needed to.”

Joseph nods, moves one hand down to rub Barclays foot; in spite of no longer working the kitchens of his five restaurants or having to test recipes for the books right now, he spent most of today on his feet making elaborate meals for two. Joseph teases him that he’s trying to stuff him to the point he can’t leave. Barclay always chuckles and says he doesn’t know how right he is. The last two days, Joseph then wraps his arms around his boyfriend and tells him he’d stay forever if he could.

He’s never thought of himself as romantic; he’s pragmatic, knows that relationships are things built out of time, trial, and error. But god help him, he’s fallen for Barclay like they’re rom-com leads with only ninety minutes to reach their happy ending.

They’re out near the creek--really more of a small river--the next morning, talking about books and speculating on the existence of life on other planets, when a storm sweeps through the trees. As trunks groan and roots pull loose from the snow, Barclay calls, “we better head back.”

He gives a thumbs up. Then the ice under him cracks.

He doesn’t correct course quickly enough, the rest dropping from under him and dunking him in freezing water. It’s deep, too deep to stand, but he’s a decent swimmer and kicks towards the surface. When the shadow covers the opening with a boom, panic threatens to push the rest of his precious breath away.

The tree that fell across the ice is heavy, and no matter how he pushes it won’t give. He bangs on the ice on either side, trying to get it to crack, but his lungs scream and his limbs alert him that the cold will soon shut them down.

He closes his eyes, trying to think, not ready to give up, not with Barclay so close. There’s a groan of wood and frozen water. His mouth opens without permission, desperate for air, and chokes him on frost instead.

-----------------------------------

“...be dead, please don’t be dead, please please please don’t be fucking dead.”

“Nnff.” That’s not what he meant to say, but it seems to calm the voice above him.

“Thank fuck. I’m so sorry, I got to you as fast as I could, do, do you need anything?” Barclay sounds exhausted.

“Cold.” He mutters.

“I’m trying to warm you up gradually, that’s what the first aid book said but, uh, here.” Warm, fuzzy arms draw him into a hug.

Wait.

The first thing he sees when his eyes flutter open are arms covered in reddish-brown fur. When Barclay rubs their cheeks together, it tickles more than his beard usually does.

“Barclay? What the hell is going on?”

“Uh. So.” He’s rolled with ease to face a creature he’s never seen and eyes that he’d know anywhere, “I’m bigfoot. Or, uh, a bigfoot. Maybe that’s kinda obvious now.”

His brain crackles to life, “What better way to stay undiscovered than get famous by giving people the wrong information about you.”

“Some of it’s true. Just not anything people could use to actually find me.”

“Smart, big guy” Joseph pets his face.

“You’re taking this pretty well.”

“I think my system is too shocked to experience more shock.” He shudders, “relatedly, how’d I get out of the river?”

“I lifted the tree off and pulled you free. Took my disguise off to do that and, uh, the fucking thing fell into the water when I got you. So I’m gonna be stuck like this until a friend of mine can get me a new one.”

“No complaints here. You look incredible.” He runs his hands up and down Barclay’s side and chest, warmth seeping into his fingers as he does, “But I’m a little surprised you were willing to risk someone seeing you or me blabbing to someone and trashing your whole life in the process.”

A low rumble as Barclay kisses his forehead, “It’s worth it. I, this is gonna sound so fucking cheesy, but I haven’t felt this way about someone in a long time, and there was no way I was gonna lose you.”

“Oh.” Affection and surprise well up in his throat, pressing down his words so all he can do is nestle closer to the cryptid and let himself be loved.

His mind rebounds quickly from his misadventure. His body would like him to remember it for a while so he doesn’t put it in such jeopardy again any time soon. Instead of helping Barclay with cooking and chores, he lays under the covers while the storm rattles the roof and the cook clangs pots on the lower floor.

Barclay, attentive to a fault, is downright doting now that he’s stuck in bed. He’s never without a hot drink or something to read, and the cryptid is happy to answer the majority of his questions about the finer points of being bigfoot. When it’s bedtime, his boyfriend pulls him atop his massive frame and cuddles him, whispering over and over that he’s glad he’s okay, until they fall asleep.

Today followed much the same pattern, though when dinner time rolls around he gets a fantastic surprise.

“Chocolate fondue?” He peers hopefully at the bed tray in Barclays hands.

“Only the best for you, babe.” The cook sets the burnished wood down on the bedside table, “we lucked out, the berries I bought last week are ripe.”

Joseph reaches for the fork, but Barclay beats him to it.

“You should save your energy. Since you’re, uh, still recovering.”

He shrugs, sets his hands in his lap and opens his mouth for a chocolate dipped raspberry. It doesn’t take long to spy Barclay’s ulterior motive. The cook has a whole wardrobe designed to fit his cryptid form, but it’s having trouble concealing certain things.

“You’re getting off on this.”

“I, uh, I, maybe a little” Barclay blushes under his fur.

Joseph raises an eyebrow, tilts his head at the bulge in Barclay’s pants, “You call that ‘little’?”

A rumbly whine, the fork paused halfway to Joseph’s mouth, “I can’t help it. I’ve got a thing for taking care of partners, especially ones who are all competent and put-together the rest of the time, and you look so good when you eat and, ohfuck.”

Joseph inhales sharply as chocolate hits his exposed upper chest. It’s not hot enough to burn, and he moans as the sensation seeps across his skin. Barclays eyes, wide and ravenous, keep flicking between the splatter and his face.

“Looks like you made a mess, big guy.” Joseph begins undoing the remaining buttons on his pajamas, “you should clean it up.”

“Fuck yeah.” Barclay lunges, mouth first, lapping and sucking at the marked skin as Joseph laughs. Their shirts hit the floor together as he digs his nails into auburn fur. Barclay grunts at the pressure, sits up with a grin, and drips a line of chocolate down the right side of Joseph’s ribs.

“Oops. Better fix that too.”

“Cleanliness is importantAH, ahhnn.” He squirms a bit as Barclay nuzzles his stomach before dragging his tongue up his skin. There’ve been times he mourned the fact T didn’t make him as hairy as some other guys, but right now he’s grateful for the clear canvas Barclay can mark however he pleases.

“A mess can be more fun.” The cook licks his lips, sucks a hickey above his belly button, “and by the time I’m done with you, babe, won’t be a single part of you that isn’t one.”

“Then get to it.” He shoves his pants down, lets Barclay pull them the rest of the way off and fold them. He lays back, resting his arms behind his head, and moans as the cook drizzles chocolate on each hip. Joseph feels like a gourmet dessert and, from the growls between his thighs, Barclay intends to treat him like one.

His boyfriend is always enthusiastic when sucking him off, but tonight he throws finesse out the window in favor of burying his face at the crease of each thigh in turn, licking his hips clean while clawing at his calves and sides. He lifts his head, wipes his mouth with a satisfied grin that shows the points of his teeth, and dives down again.

Joseph yelps with pleasure, the hint of fangs hitting all his buttons, lighting him up like downtown on a dark night. It’s intense, the scratch of fur on skin just different enough from the usual beard to remind him of who’s down there, and his legs try to kick closed. Barclay growls again, holding them open with ease.

“Not until I’m done with you, babe.”

He surrenders to flood of feelings from both outside and within him, Barclay’s sheer delight at his body rendering all his doubts and worries toothless and small, quieting them until all he can think about is incredible creature holding and all he can say is some variation on-

“Barclay, please, right there, lordalmighty that’s good, that’s so good big guy, please.” He squeezes his eyes shut, craving the impending orgasm more than he has words for. Barclay sucks determinedly and huffs, pleased, as Joseph's thighs tense in his hold and his climax chases away the remnants of yesterday's aches.

As his brain insists that really, body, opening our eyes isn’t that hard, there’s a metallic zip and strong legs bracketing his thighs.

“Here I thought you couldn’t look any better.” He murmurs as Barclay gleefully strokes his cock, “as soon as my brain works again, I’m coming up with so many ways to use that gorgeous thing.”

“Can’t, fuck, can't wait to hear ‘em, but I only got one for tonight; I’m gonna use it to cum alllll over that fucking perfect body, fuck, Joseph, you look so good when you’re ruined, fuck.” An impressive amount of cum spatters up his stomach, chest, and neck as Barclay howlgrowlpurrs and then sets his hands carefully on the bed.

Joseph’s whole body is sticky with chocolate, sweat, and cum, and Barclay definitely has at least two of those things mussed into his fur.

“You’re right, big guy, a mess can be fucking amazing.”

That being said, being sticky gets old quick, and soon they’re in the tub, Joseph whistling as he shampoos Barclay’s chest. The cryptid hasn’t stopped purring, and every time he looks Joseph’s way the sound deepens.

“When are you next in the city?”

The cook yawns, “Was gonna check on how the new chef de cuisine is getting on at Kepler in about two week.”

“Would you like to stay with me? It’s not fancy, but it’s close to the Ismuth, so you can get to Kepler on foot without trouble, and there are fewer crowds there this time of year. I suspect paparazzi are also less likely to track you down at some random house than at a hotel. That might make up for my lack of, um, high class amenities.”

“Good point. But I gotta be honest babe; as long as you’re there, that’s all I need to be happy.”

[cerealwatch]

Okay so

Oh boy. Okay. I’d love to talk about all things Overwatch with you! Just… be prepared for some salt about certain characters. These are just my opinions.

I’m gonna put this under read more because this is gonna be long, my friend.

OKAY okay so. Let’s start at the beginning. The Overwatch timeline is really, really confusing. The Overwatch lore is confusing in general. I have no idea what happens when, but thankfully someone (I can’t remember who, but they’re a savior) made a reasonable timeline of the Overwatch events.

However, new things keep getting added and I’m???? I’m confused but. Like. The Uprising event. I thought Ana died 10 years prior to present Overwatch time but the Null Sector mission took place 7 years ago so like???? You just have to freestyle. The timeline is basically nonexistent so all I have to say on that is I just do whatever the hell I want with the timeline and nobody makes a fuss because we all share that apathy. No one cares about the timeline. It’s not even worth the effort to try to piece it together.

And I mean, the information we have on most of the characters is really vague??? I mean it gives me a lot of room to experiment and stuff but I’d love to have something solid on the characters that aren’t part of the original strike team or the Shimada Bros (because god knows how much Chu favors those two).

Like, D.Va, Symmetra, Zarya, Mei, Emily… they get ignored. Entirely. We only have mere snippets of them to work with and even then, I don’t have a fucking clue. It’s upsetting, really, but I assume (and hope, and pray, and wish, and need) we’ll get like a comic or an animation on one of theme here soon.

Well, we’d better. Or something for Pharah or Mercy because I SWEAR TO GOD if its something for the characters that already have SUBSTANTIAL LORE to work with I’m gonna be upset. I’m already upset. I’ll just be even more upset.

Like at this point there’s only a select few characters I even relatively give a shit about? But I figure I’ll just go through every character and state my opinion on them.

Genji - “I NEED HEALING I NEED HEALING I NEED HE—“ This is the ultimatum of Genji. He’s a double-edged sword. I can’t find it in myself to like him, not after everything. I won’t let myself say that I hate him, but I just… I can’t appreciate his character. In theory, his design in aesthetically appealing, and his backstory is dark in a way that I might have been able to enjoy were it not Genji. But at this point, he’s too far out of reach. His gameplay is not one that works well with mine, as a Mercy main, and the people who play him are THE MOST toxic in all the Overwatch community, hands down. And when I don’t heal him, Genji players don’t understand that maybe it’s because I have no idea where the fuck they are. Maybe it’s because they’re on the other side of the goddamn map and boy, would I love to heal you, but I can’t if you aren’t within reach of my health noodle. Maybe it’s because they’re jumping head first into the enemy team, and I may be healer, but my priority first and foremost is to keep MYSELF alive, so if you die in .2 seconds it’s not my fault.

In my opinion, Genji contributes nothing to a team, and where Overwatch is TEAM FOCUSED game, I can’t see the point in having him on a team. I can’t see the point in risking my life to heal him. I don’t see what he brings to the table. I won’t let myself hate him because Genji, as a character, deserves better than what people who play him make him, but I don’t see his value.

McCree - I could care less about McCree. I don’t have a set opinion in him. His character is extra in a way that is almost comical, and I can appreciate the McCree & Pharah sibling dynamic. It’s cute. And McCree is fun to play, I will admit. But as for what happens to him, I could care less. His character interactions are boring. His personality isn’t interesting. So while I don’t dislike him, simply because he’s fun and weird, I really just don’t care about him. At all.

Pharah - I LOVE HER I love her so much. I love Fareeha “Pharah” Amari. I love her because she’s everything you need for a commander, and I love her because she loves everyone. Like, she can be stern and strategic and harsh but she also cares so much for her teammates. I love her because of her morals— her tendency to defend, her instinctual need to protect. This is her life. This is what she was born to do— protect, and love, and if anyone should be the face of net-overwatch it had damn well better be her. I love her because her comfort can be the wisest of words and it can be the smallest of brushes of shoulders in the hallways and I love her because both of those comforts can mean the same thing in different contexts. I love her because when her mother left, she wasn’t understanding, fucking hell she was bitter. And you can hear it in her interactions that, maybe, she’s still bitter, she’s still mad at her mom for leaving. She certainly isn't upset for her mother putting her work above her child, but she’s bitter because she’s doing what she loves in protecting people and the only thing she can think of is how much her mother would disapprove. I don’t like what the fandom has done to her in making her character revolve solely around her mother, because while Ana certainly made her who she is, she doesn't define her. She’s the Strike Commander that the new Overwatch deserves.

Reaper - At the beginning, before we had any background on what he was like before the fall, I disliked him. I thought he was boring and his gameplay was dull and he was just some angsty teen wearing every clusterfucked article of clothing in Hot Topic. But now, now that I have lore, I love this man. I love his dedication and the fact that it wasn’t jealousy, it never was, but it was the fact that Overwatch wasn’t doing jack shit while the world crumbled in London. He deserved so much more than what he got— his strike team of fuck-ugly Overwatch rejects. Talon fucked him up but I think, deep down, he’s still just sad about what could have been and he just wants to take Widow and Sombra on vacation to Hawaii and not have to think about war or blood or Blackwatch or Talon ever again. If Pharah is the leader Overwatch needs now, he was the leader Overwatch deserved but never got, the one who cared about the troops and the cause so much that he would go so far as to forsake the law to fight for what he believed in. Easily one of my favorites.

Soldier: 76 - FUCK THIS MAN fuck him and his stupid white bread face and fuck his dumb aimbot let and FUCK the 12 year olds who can’t aim that play him. Fuck the people that see him as some dumb fucking father figure because he’s not he's a dumb, salty asshat who can’t accept the fact that Overwatch’s fall was his own dumb fault like the selfish fucking motherfucker he is. But most importantly, FUCK his stupid, unoriginal gameplay and his stupid unoriginal backstory. Blizzard thought they were being clever when they took Call of Duty and slapped a Yankee cap on it and called him Soldier: 76 but they weren’t. Fuck this dumb blonde-haired-blue-eyed poster boy that can’t get over his cardboard ass. Fuck him.

Sombra - Her voice actress is a gift and her gameplay is actually super useful if used correctly and her character has a lot of potential and dynamic, especially with Reaper and Widowmaker, but I just can’t get super into her??? Like she’s really, really cool in terms of overall design and people who write her, kudos to you, but I can only appreciate her from a distance. Sometimes I wish I could like her more, but I can’t I just… can’t. She’s not for me.

Tracer - SHE’S SO IMPORTANT so important in so many ways. First and foremost, she’s the face of Overwatch and she’s gay and that’s cool. That’s super cool. I mean, it’s a small step forwards, but it’s a step in the right direction. Furthermore, she is important in that she is the heart and soul of Overwatch. She is what makes it a hero organization. She gives it that natural, friendly appeal. But even further, she loves so freely and openly. But she’s not perfect, and thats what I think is the best thing about her. She couldn't save Mondatta, and she beat herself up over it. She fell through time and space and she wasn't fine afterwards. She still isn't fine, but the most important thing is that she moves forward. That’s why she is one of my top three favorite characters. (In relation to There’s Blood in the Water, I gave her the ‘healing hands’ trope for this reason. It’s in her nature to care, so when she helps Hana along her way, it comes naturally to her not because she pities Hana, but because it’s in her nature to care.)

Bastion - Play of the Game Simulator 2k17. A one-button masterpiece of a game where you look in one direction and shoot and wow! Look! You got a kill. Good job, you special snowflake you. A+ gameplay 10/10 would recommend.

Hanzo - I don’t like him. He’s just a fucking idiot is what he is. Nothing, absolutely nothing of what he did to Genji was justified. Like, if I was mad at my brother for enjoying the simple things in life would I be mad? I mean, sure, but like if I were the heir to the empire anyways I wouldn’t see a damn problem. But like, even if I were mad, why the fuck would I kill him over it? It just makes no fucking sense. There’s no reason. There is absolutely no reason someone should ever be so angry as to see murder as the only solution. There’s just no situation, especially with a sibling, someone you share your flesh and blood and your fucking life with, where murder is justifiable. Hanzo fucked up when he ‘killed’ Genji and any guilt he feels by that decision is what he deserves. Anything that comes his way, he fucking deserves that shit. Honestly, he’s lucky that his brother found in in himself to forgive him because, if like, my older sister tried to kill me because she was upset I was having sex rather than, say, paying my bills, I would be pretty fucking upset.

Junkrat - This dumb fcuking garbage man. You don’t need to aim to play him. You don’t need any level of experience with Overwatch to play him. Honestly he’s just so dislikeable???? I honestly can’t believe there are people that actually LIKE his character and ENJOY his play style. It’s just… so hard for me to believe. He’s so dumb. He’s SO DUMB. You don’t need to AIM to play him. And the people that ship him with Symmetra and Mei I’m just??? You really think they would let him within 10 feet of them??? Because you are sorely mistaken. This stinky rat man needs to go in the trash bin where he belongs.

Mei - Okay like she’s actually a fucked up character?? People overlook the fact that she was the sole survivor of the Ecopoint incident. Like, can you imagine that? Waking up one day after everything had gone to shit, coming out of the cryopod and looking around and realizing that you were the only one that made it out alive. And it would be weeks before help arrived so just waking up every morning and seeing those frozen bodies in the windows of the cryopods. Can you imagine what that would do to someone? So like the fact that she is able to stay so upbeat and focus on her dreams is beyond me. Like the nightmares from that shit would be fucking wild. Just… respect Mei, man. She’s got her scars.

Torbjörn - I mean, despite the nonexistent level of skill that is required to play him, he’s not that bad? I like envisioning him as a total family man. Like, drops everything to cal his wife just to tell her he loves her. Even in the middle of battle. Loves all of his children and sends them souvenirs from wherever his missions take him. Names every single one of his turrets and encourages them, like ‘I believe in you, Linda, you can do it!’ or ‘Come on Olaf, just a little longer and then we win!’ I feel like he would just… take in anyone under his wing. You need help fixing something? He’ll help. You need to rant? He’ll listen. Albeit, it’s in a bit of a roundabout way, but he has seven kids and he knows how to listen. Fuck Dad: 76, where are my Dad Torb fics? You know, the guy who actually has children?

Widowmaker - Out of every character in this goddamn shitting addictive game, I think her lore is, by far, the most interesting. Capture by Talon and programmed to kill her husband at just the right moment, then released back under pretenses that everything was fine— I doubt even she knew what was wrong with her until it was too late, and then that guilt was manipulated and twisted until they had their perfect weapon. The Widowmaker. And I think, subconsciously, she’s aware of what she’s done, aware that she’s messed up beyond repair and that she’s done horrible things. And I think that’s what drives her to, eventually, let herself be taken in by Overwatch (purely a headcanon of mine). Eventually, she will have a redemption arc, and it will be long and hard and she won’t be the same. The idea that Amélie is still in there, somewhere, is pretty childish in my opinion because nobody’s the same after torture, and on the degree hers was supposedly at, there’s no possible way. She won’t revert back to what she was. After all that happened to her, she’ll never be the same. But she can start over.

D.Va - DON’T EVEN GET ME STARTED ON D.VA don’t even. I love her SO FUCKING MUCH. I love her SO MUCH that I wrote 85k words that’s basically torture porn that was put in a blender with a healthy dose of introspection and PTSD. I love her character, I love her gameplay, and more than anything else, I love her ult. But I also hate her, and before you ask why, I’ll make my case.

I hate what this fandom and Blizzard have done to her. I fucking hate it. There’s nothing that could get me to hate you more, or shut you out of my life more than saying you think the ‘gaming gremlin’ thing is funny. Because that shit’s disrespectful. It attacks D.Va’s character and it attacks gamers and it attacks 19-year-olds and the case they make? “It’s funny. It’s just a joke.” No. Shut the fuck up. That shit hurts. You don’t know how hurtful it is. You don’t know how hurtful it is to be disrespected like that. And that’s why Blood in the Water is the way it is because I know that shit and it fucking hurts.

The only thing I could possible hate more than that is infantilizing her. Is lowering to such a standard where she’s nothing more than a child in a catsuit. There is nothing more disrespectful than taking her character— a soldier, a war hero, a celebrity, and a survivor— and thinking: “She’s just a child!” Fuck you. She’s nineteen. She’s every bit an adult as the rest of them. She has seen war and she has seen death. People she loved have died. Her home was destroyed, but that doesn't matter to the fandom, does it? They take her and degrade her into nothing more than Jack Fucking Morrison’s “baby girl” and there’s nothing that makes me angrier. Write stories about her and her PTSD. Write stories about her and the imminent guilt that comes with being a commander in a war. Write stories about her coping with the weight of a country on her shoulders. But I swear to Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, don’t write stories about her being nothing more than a fucking Dorito imp. Because I see enough of that shit in her tag already.

Orisa - I mean, I don’t really have enough information to come to a solid conclusion about Orisa, but I can go with some basics. Her gameplay is a little dull— it copies off of way too many preexisting characters. Her design is fucking brilliant, but her skill set is almost as dull as Soldier: 76’s. Despite that, I actually like her quite a bit— she’s the Baymax of Overwatch, and Efi’s the Hiro. I’d let this centaur robocop lady hold me any day.

Reinhardt - I love sad grandpa who just wants to support everyone in whatever they do. He’s such a pure and wholesome character. Even if you don’t believe in yourself, you can bet your ass he’ll pick you up off the ground and help you the rest of the way. He cares so deeply about his comrades, and I think that’s what makes him such a lovable character. He just cares so deeply, even about people he doesn’t know too well. Love this grandpa. Also, did I hear dad figure to Mercy because you bet your ass I headcanon that shit.

Roadhog - I often forget he’s a character until I get hooked through 16 walls, the multiverse, and my entire team. It’s a fucking adventure.

Winston - He’s trying his best to lead Overwatch but I don’t think he’s cut out for it. And honestly, his character is really bizarre in a way that I don’t even know how to react to it. He’s a genetically modified gorilla from the fuck shitting moon, not to mention he can talk and his only friend is an unbelievable mom-like voice on a futuristic iPad. He’s like McCree in that he’s extra, but it isn’t even funny with him. It’s just plain weird.

Zarya - Zarya, I feel, is the most underrated in Overwatch’s roster. You don’t see any stories delving into her, you don’t see lore in her favor. She has few character interactions (but the ones she has are, by far, amazing). I would love to see more work of her, just because she’s such a likable character (come on, that pink hair just takes the cake). Maybe, someday, I’ll get around to writing her more because writing her is fun as all hell. I just want her to hold me in those big, strong arms of hers and make my depression and anxiety back the fuck off. Holy damn. She’s like the cool older sister that everybody needs.

Ana - Honestly, I’m actually kind of bitter about Ana. I can’t forgive what she did to Pharah. I don’t understand why or how she could bring herself to do that. But I believe that, more than any other character, she has the potential to make amends. You can tell, in the dialogue they have, the backstory they could potentially share, that they want to make amends, but it’ll be hard because who can blame Pharah for being bitter? Ana understands. In fact, she probably thinks she deserves it herself. I can’t imagine how guilty she would feel, how much she would worry that after so long, her only daughter might not want anything to do with her anymore, but she’ll try because she refuses not to make amends before her time comes. And, in time, things will ease into the way it should have been all along, and all she can think of is how lucky she is to have such a daughter.

Lúcio - This boy. He believes in you. The most supportive support to ever support. But his story isn’t that deep. His character is shallow in a way I can’t interest myself in. Like, sweet prince, I love you, but you aren’t really all that important to me. But I will always do my best to protect this boy.

Mercy - You know, when I got this game, I told myself I wouldn’t become a Mercy main. I told myself that because I’d read how hard and unrewarding it was. But now, with somewhere close to 85 hours clocked into her, I can only laugh at myself. And really, it is unrewarding. You gain nothing from playing her. It’s hard and it’s stressful and it makes you bitter and there just… isn't an upside. But I’ll keep playing her because if I’m good at being stressed and bitter and exhausted. My friends jokingly call me the ‘Unsupportive Support’ and really, that’s what Mercy is in-game. But no matter how unrewarding it is, I swear to god, there is NO BETTER feeling than watching your teammates all getting sucked into a graviton surge, knowing they’re going to die, and looking down and seeing that you have rez. There’s no better feeling than gliding in there and watching that 5x appear on your screen and this grin spreads across your face because you know, and the enemy team that failed to kill you knows they’ve fucked up big time. NO BETTER FEELING than a five-man rez.

But in terms of lore, personality, and interaction, she’s actually really interesting and fun to write just because I can relate to her so heavily. There’s no way she sleeps on a normal schedule. There’s no way she’s all sunshine and rainbows and pretty pearly smiles. There’s no way she’s anything other than exhausted all the time, kept awake only by heavy overdoses of caffeine. Like, the so obviously hypocritical factor about her is such a likable work. She makes sure everyone else keeps their health in check and then neglects her own. It makes her feel like such a human character. And her interactions? Some of the best in the game (namely with Pharah because that is the good shit). I love Mercy. Second favorite character, and by far the most relatable.

Symmetra - And here she is, the most ignored, underplayed character in the game. She has like, a grand total of ONE character interaction. And what’s worse is that she’s such an interesting character? Her internal conflict of work vs ethic is such a cool concept, and yet we don’t see anything of it. We just have to speculate. Does she regret what she’s done? Is she aware of the wrongness of it? Her comic didn’t help settle anything other than clarify that, at heart, she really is a good person. She really is just trying to make the world a better place, but the interesting thing is that she doesn’t know, perhaps, that what she’s doing with Vishkar isn’t good. It’s hurting more people than it helps. Her character has so much potential for grown, not that Blizzard will ever delve into it. She has potential to realize what she’s done and it’s not in her to wallow in it, but to do what she can to make it better. Which is why, I think, she joined Overwatch. That’s the thing about Blizzard— their little eggshell biographies don’t show the true intents of the characters, it doesn’t show their scars or their morals. And that’s what Satya needs most— her morals have been twisted from the beginning, her scars covered in invisible ink. Her life, all she knows, has been a lie, and when she realizes that, it’ll be a shitshow.

Also, that death noodle. It melts so fast. Why isn’t she played more? Who needs Reaper as a tankbuster when you could have Symmetra?

Zenyatta - Zenyatta is cool, but I think everyone always overlooks the fact that he’s only 20 years old? Like yeah he’s a monk but if you’ve seen 20 year olds they ain’t exactly saints. Let Zenyatta wear hoodies. Let Zenyatta make off-kilter jokes that no one expects because, well, its Zenyatta. He’s the universal vent-station and resident therapist of Overwatch, but let Zenny have some quirks, too. Writing him is super fun though because it’s just like ‘if I wasn’t constantly having an existential crisis what would I be like?’