#widowmaker stamps

[cocoafawn]

— widowmaker stamps

like & reblog to use !

[embodies]

THE DRAGON'S HOARDE. ACCEPTING. " please, don't let them know i'm here. "

@rab2bit.

the sniper surveys the scene with her visor's aid, remnants of mekas strung like scrap metal amidst the rubble. this is not all the work of talon, for the signature stamp of the gwishin omnics is pressed into every corner of this land. fear strikes the citizens into a panic, their cries faintly heard in the distance as they flee. yet her infra - sight picks up a heat signature all the same, leaving her to wonder — is this straggler brave, stupid, or simply too injured to move ? leaving no stone unturned, she finds the girl and heeds her plea. widowmaker is one of few words, not immediate to respond as she gleans what information she can from the sight. suited, meka logo faded and torn but nonetheless present on her thigh. for a brief moment, her mouth upturns subtly : that colour is absolutely garish. but more serious matters than fashion prevail, seeking her visor's database for guidance as the mission objective rings clear in her mind.

CONFIDENTIAL | TALON OPERATIVE EYES ONLY LOCATION : SOUTH KOREA OBJECTIVE : ELIMINATE ███████, A HIGH-PROFILE INDIVIDUAL SUSPECTED OF ORCHESTRATING █████ █████████. COLLATERAL DAMAGE IS OF NO CONCERN BUT MAINTAIN ABSOLUTE DISCRETION. SECONDARY OBJECTIVES : (1) RETRIEVE ANY CRITICAL INTEL FROM TARGET [HARD DRIVE, DOCUMENTS, ETC.] (2) NEUTRALISE ANY SIGNIFICANT SECURITY THREATS DIRECTLY HINDERING THE MISSION. (3) LEAVE NO TRACES THAT LINKS THE MISSION TO TALON.

she pauses for a moment here to once again assess the girl, not necessarily deeming her a threat now that the mission objective has been reached. nor is the assassin directly linked to talon from visuals alone, perhaps aiding the notion that she is affiliated to the gwishin omnics themselves. her revision continues. there may be use of this yet.

ENVIRONMENT : HEAVILY GUARDED SKYSCRAPER. EXPECT A MIX OF HIGH-TECH SURVEILLANCE AND PHYSICAL SECURITY PATROLS. POTENTIAL MEKA AND/OR GWISHIN INTERFERENCE TO BE EXPECTED. OPERATIONAL RULES: (1) DO NOT ENGAGE NON-COMBATANTS. (2) IF CAPTURED, DESTROY ALL MISSION-SENSITIVE EQUIPMENT AND PERSONNEL IMMEDIATELY. SELF-DESTRUCTION SHOULD NOT BE RULED OUT.

a brief intermission to herself, permitting a laugh. self - destruction, as if she were not a person but an object. perhaps there is truth to such an implication. she has read enough. determining the girl as a non-combatant, engagement is not an option. walking away without a word, she asserts that if the omnics want the meka pilot badly enough, she will be found regardless of her involvement or lack thereof. lacroix may not know her name but she predicts this will be the first and last time she encounters hana song. she could not have been more wrong.

[chiefatticcreator]

Out of all the classless ladies, is it true that Sombra is usually the one challenging Widowmaker the most? Like she wants to prove that her way is the better way.

"You can't tell me that broadcasting to everyone the porn I filmed when he was fucking le isn't a good idea to get his attention, and also hot as fuck." Sombra smirks, getting a Queen of Hearts tattooed around her Overwatch tramp stamp. "What's hotter than showing everyone who owns me?"

"You really are insufferable." Widowmaker sneers, again annoyed by Sombra challe'ging her like that.

[llaney-lotl-blog]

some overwatch pixels i made a hot minute ago for deviantart :00

[residentlesbrarian]

The First Book I Read In the Dark: Queer Witches and a Whole Bunch of Redwood Trees

The Lost Coast by Amy Rose Capetta

Let me set the scene...we start Day 1 of this experience curled up next to the white painted fireplace desperate for warmth with two blankets, an extra hoodie, a stocking cap, and my trusty lazy husband for that much needed lumbar support. 

Now The Lost Coast was a book I had checked out multiple times over the past year of silence on this blog because every time I saw it on the shelf I would pick it up, flip to the blurb, read it and go, “Man, that sounds so good! I gotta read it!” Then I’d check it out and it would sit in my locker, or in my car, or on my desk for three weeks and I’d turn it in completely untouched. But this time...this time I swore I was reading this damn book! Even if I was reading 10 pages a day during my breaks at work I was gonna finally read this book, it wasn’t going unread sitting somewhere for three weeks again. Little did I know how right I would be! 

So as a bit of a precursor this is the only book of those I read in the dark that I had already started. I was 90 pages in when I started reading on Day 1 and I only get more incoherent from here so let’s do this!

Unicorn Rating:

Blurb: Our protagonist is pulled across the country to the yawning redwood forest of northern California and discovers more than she could ever imagine. Her mom  thought Danny kissing girls was the worst of her problems but now she has to deal with witches and magic and is that a dead body! This non-stop ride is just getting started!

Disclaimer: I will try my best to not spoil anything from the book, but my book loving rambles may give more away than a traditional review. Here we go! Ramble time!

Review: 

Okay so I would say this book pretty firmly falls in a middle ground of okay for me. It was some really great escapism for me in a time when I really needed it, but the way the book was structured and written just didn’t really jive with my usual reading tastes. It felt to me like it was trying so hard to be poetic and artistic that it got a little lost at times, no pun intended with the title of the book. 

Now for the plot, which I think was maybe the strongest element of this book. The driving plot of the book never changed and was always consistent and I really liked how the author wove the magic of the world and the unique structure of how she was telling the story while never losing the plot in that unique structure. It was always peeling away one layer at a time and showing us just a bit more without holding our hand. It was very well done and kept me guessing and trying to figure out what was going to happen and how it was all going to end. Next we have what is usually my favorite part of a review but this time...isn't. 

I have so many conflicted feelings about the characters in The Lost Coast. On one hand holy giant redwoods I haven’t read a book since Not Your Sidekick that had this many casually queer characters just strutting about doing their thing, but on the other hand I feel the way the story was written leaves so much to be desired. The characters feel so thin and lacking when they had the potential to be so rich and diverse. Don’t get me wrong they are diverse in the bare bones definition, but we know so little about them at the end of the day it feels like it doesn’t really matter. We have our protagonist, Danny, who we know has a strained relationship with her mother but is close enough with she was willing to move her across the country in an attempt to try and give her a fresh start. Now there are somethings that take place in the story that explain a lot of the odd things about Danny’s character and made me a lot less unhappy with her by the time the book ended but it was really hard to get behind her as a protagonist at the beginning not because I didn’t like her but because I wasn’t motivated to follow her into the story. She was just going along from one event to the next with no real drive of her own, which brings us to the Grays: Hawthorne, June, Lelia, and Rush. They at least have a consistent motivation, but they had such potential to be really interesting characters but each one fell just short for me. The closest one to a compelling for me was Rush, we learned the most about her and I think that was mostly because Danny paid the most attention to her for obvious gay reasons. Now I can’t really expand too much more without going into massive spoiler territory for the plot which I don’t want to do, because the book is good and is an experience I don’t want to take away from anyone it just fell flat for me.

So yeah, this book wasn’t what I expected and I think a huge part of that was because the blurb is so much different than what is in the book itself. And I know, as a lesbrarian I should know not to judge a book by its cover or its blurb...but that is your first exposure to the story you are going to be reading and in this case the tone was so much different. Now let me reiterate this book wasn’t bad. There were parts that were so beautifully written I had to reread them several times to take in the layers of imagery and sheer poetry of the prose, but I feel like at times that style took away from the story itself and most of all it took away from the characters so that by the end of it they just fall a bit flat for me. I do recommend you give it a shot though because you won’t find a book with a queerer cast out there and maybe it will speak to you more than it did to me. 

Queer Wrap-up: Alright lets look at the this stellar tally shall we. Even with my own lack luster feelings toward the characters from a story perspective you can’t over look the fact that all but one character we interact with on page regularly is queer. That is something I have never seen before, so it more than earned its five unicorns, even if the quality was a bit lacking on the tail end the quantity really pulled it out. So we have our protagonist who is unapologetically kissing girls from page one and doesn’t ever shut up about it but also doesn’t shy away from the fact she also finds boys undeniably adorable and cute. In a scene that makes this tally easier than most she defines herself as queer so we are gonna stick with that. Within the Grays we have Lelia who is a tiny nonbinary gray ace person who will get in your face and is not afraid to be called a weirdo, June is a “femme as fuck” lesbian who is also not white (I belive Danny describes her as vaguely pacific islander at one point. I swear it was more specifically stated what her ethnicity was somewhere later in the book but I didn’t write it down at the time and couldn’t find it in my quick flip threw the book when I grabbed it to jot down their stated sexualities, but she is definitely not white), Hawthorne is a bisexual black witch who states she has “a strong lean toward masculine folks” which is refreshing to see bisexual representation that isn’t just “gay but guys exist I guess”, then we have Rush who very succinctly sums herself up with “Fat. Queer. White. Cello Player.” She is also some add rep in the form of having synesthesia where she can taste words. We also have some disability rep as June has an injury to her leg from a fall out of a tree that never healed properly and it does cause problems for her throughout the book, not the greatest rep but it’s there and shouldn’t be forgotten or not included. Man, oh man, this is the longest wrap-up I think I’ve ever written but I am still not done yet. We have Imogen who is the missing Gray mentioned in the blurb and brought up pretty quickly in the story and without spoiling anything we do get confirmation she is also undeniably queer as well as another character that I can’t even begin to talk about without a giant redacted stamp for spoiler reasons, but just know this book does have queer rep coming out its ears. 

Links: 

Amy Rose Capetta’s Website

Goodreads

So yes here we come to the end of the first Book I Read In the Dark it was a whimsical journey through redwoods with witches and more queerness than you could shake a widowmaker at (if you don’t get that reference read the book). I finished this book on Day 1 and immediately dove right into Book 2 because well I didn’t have anything else to do and I was kinda reeling from the confusion of this book and wanted something to ground me. The next book was one I had wanted to read for a very long time. You’ll see whether it did the job or not. 

As always if you want to read this but don’t want to spend the money without knowing for sure you are going to like it, go to your local library. You’d be surprised what they have on their shelves just waiting to be discovered. Trust me, I’m a lesbrarian.

[docholligay]

kumeko replied to your photo “Holy jumped up Jesus fuck.  What an amazing fucking opener. This is...”

Or Fareeha crumpling up the letter her mother wrote, knowing those words are false now.

These are probably my last words. 

Pharah had read those so many times, sitting by herself in her barrack, or in an apartment, or on her way to or from somewhere for Helix, or even occasionally for herself. She traced her finger over the curves and dots of Ana’s writing, as she had a hundred times over the last seven years. 

We haven’t spoken much, I know. But I am on a mission in Eastern Europe, and there is a new sniper, they say, who is running the countermission. She’s very good. So am I. But I’m growing out of my arrogance. This could be the end of me, easily. 

My Fareeha--

Pharah shook as she clasped the letter in her hands. She still had all of it, the envelope, the letter, the stamp where Pharah had taped it back, carefully, as it threatened to fall. The postmark. The fucking postmark that proved she had been sitting in a hospital pretending she didn’t remember her name when she sent it. 

Her Fareeha. When did she get to be her own Fareeha? When did she get to stop being Ana Amari’s daughter, Nour Amari’s granddaughter, and be Fareeha Amari, herself, and belonging to no one? 

I never wanted this life for you. You didn’t understand that, but you have never held your own heart in your hands. You can’t possibly understand what it is to love someone so much. You could have changed the world for peace in what we were building, but you chose the Army. Inshallah, you will find a way to change it still. 

“What did you ever teach me, but how to shoot? How to fight?” Pharah interrogated the letter, “that your work was so important I must allow it to take you from me? I was a child!” 

“Fareeha?” Her wife’s voice, at the bedroom door, gently responding to the furious Arabic inside. 

Pharah shook her head. “It is nothing, at all, I--” 

I love you, my darling. Everything I have done in this life has been for you. My greatest regret as I sit here now, is that I will only be a memory for you. That we will never be able to fix the roughness between us. If God grants me the gift of being wrong, I will seek you out, and we’ll talk. We should have worked harder at understanding each other in life. 

Pharah felt her face grow hot with rage, the idea that her mother had meant this to hurt her, that maybe she had known how Pharah would feel guilty for her distance. That maybe her mother was a sniper in all ways. It had never occurred to her before, but of course, before, she had thought her mother was dead. 

“Fareeha.” Mercy opened the door and quietly shut it behind her. “It is nearly dinner.” 

“Will Ana be there?” She stayed on the edge of the bed, facing the wall. 

“No.” Mercy walked over and sat next to her. “Or Jack.”

She snorted. “Of course he would side with her.” She waved the letter. “She did this to him too!” 

Mercy put her hand on Pharah’s leg. “I know.” 

“I dedicated so much to her memory.” She felt at the tattoo under her eye, that she had loved until this moment in time, “I nearly killed Tracer, for the betrayal of Widowmaker.” 

“I know.” 

It pains me to say goodbye to you now, my daughter. I hope you know the joy and terror that I have known, of loving something so very much as I love you. I hope you don’t know the loneliness I’ve felt, in saving this world. 

“She made herself a martyr to me.”

“I know.” 

Mama loves you, my Fareeha. 

Pharah crumpled up the letter and tossed it out the window by the bed. 

[nitewrighter]

What if Amélie and Gerard had a kid before she was widow-ified and they were taken care of by an aunt or uncle. How would Guillaume feel?

Well the last time we see Gérard alive is 8 years before the Recall. So whatever kid Amélie and Gérard might have would be like, at least 9 years older than Guillaume. I think the person who would honestly be the most affected by the existence of such a kid would be Widow—like, maternal instincts are crazy strong, the lengths Talon would have to go to in order to stamp them out and make Widow Widow are honestly really disturbing to think about. And if/when Widow managed to escape from Talon and regain some memories of her old life, her first instinct would be making sure this kid is okay. I don’t know if she would really be able to bring herself to come back into this kid’s life after what happened to Gérard, and I think she’d feel guilty with regards to Guillaume because she’s raising Guillaume in a way she never got to with her first-born. As far as how Guillaume feels, I think like, assuming Gérard’s kid was (rightfully) raised away from the Talon/Overwatch fight, this kid would just be... normal. Like yeah they’d probably be smart and handsome and likeable like Gérard was, but they’re living a kind of life that Guillaume and other Watchpoint kids don’t really understand. It would be distant, kind of surreal.

Of course this is all contingent on Widowmaker having a kid when she’s like... 24 or younger, which is a definite “nah,” especially if she’s a ballerina.

[chyrstis]

With your hand in mine (it’s going to be fine)

Far Cry 5 Week -  Day 3: The Resistance

This was supposed to be completed way back on Tuesday, but it would’ve been much weaker (and shorter!) overall if I’d chosen to post then. Either way, this was a fun chance to focus on what happens around the Widowmaker mission, get in more Sharky time, and get in some time with Mary May as well.

Pairing: F!Dep x Sharky Boshaw (pre-ship but the feelings are there) Rating: T Word Count: 6.2K

Link to AO3!

___

The Widowmaker’s brought back to Fall’s End, and with its arrival comes a need to celebrate.

______________

“Over here.”

Hana followed close behind, keeping her gun nearby as Kat lead her towards the back of the garage. She wasn’t sure what to expect after seeing the severe look cross the older woman’s face, but when they turned the corner, Hana felt both of her eyebrows fly up.

Standing with their faces pressed to the wall were three Peggies, two men and one woman.  All of them had their hands bound behind their backs, and the resistance member posted nearby gave them a small nod before fixing his rifle back on them.

The minute she came into sight, the group as a whole tensed visibly. One even spat at her, missing her by a good two feet, but they got points for hutzpah.  

“Two of the three were jumped, but not shot, and the third threw down his arms. Ended up catching him on the way to the truck himself, and managed to fish this out of his pockets.” She dropped a large key into Hana’s hand. “Guess he thought he’d be able to make a break for it, but we intercepted him right after the remote bombs went off.”

“Ooh, the tricky dick,” she said, and let out a low whistle. “That was a small window to sneak through.”

Sharky’s roundabout trap hadn’t given the cultists many options to escape when the tide had started to turn, but when a few cut back to the trucks, that avenue was cut off with the push of a single button. She’d been close enough to shield her eyes from the flash of light, only to scramble away seconds later to avoid the falling, flaming debris that pelted her hiding place. Those that had been well-within range – like the four trying to clamber inside – hadn’t been as lucky.

It was tough to say if the three standing before them understood just how well they had fared in comparison to the others. She wasn’t a bad shot, Sharky’s shotgun shells tended to light up everything within two to three feet of him, and Hurk hadn’t been shy about using the rockets he’d dug up from Fall’s End’s surplus. Odds for any stray Peggies to make it through that were low to start, but here they were, waiting to see if the other shoe was about to drop.

“Figured it’d be bad sport to just shoot ‘em, but…I was tempted.”

Kat looked set on shooting one of them now, her attention set on the person that kept giving them all the raging stink eye, and Hana held up her hand. “I get that. It’s not like they were holding back any when we rolled up on them, but let’s work with this. Any good with knots?”

“Knots?” Kat ran a hand through her short blonde hair, and shrugged. “I can do a mean trucker’s hitch. Unless you were thinking knots meant to restrain, in which case I could probably go back to the ones my ex liked-“

Hana shook her head fast. “Uh, no. I mean, we need them all tied together, but not like…that?”

“Oh, then I think I’ve got you covered, ma’am.”

It took a few minutes to wrangle the group together, but once they were finished, the three were tied together in a circle, their hands still kept behind them as they each faced outward. The bonds were tight, but not enough to injure, and Hana honestly gave them less than a day tops before being discovered provided the loss of the Widowmaker didn’t put them all on high alert.

John hadn’t come after her yet for the sign – a fact that honestly still shocked her after how badly their conversation had gone - but at the first sign of trouble elsewhere she knew he’d swoop in. Even if he didn’t have a slew of comments waiting for her, he’d find other ways to retaliate, using that mouth of his to do what he did best.

Cloth rags had been wedged into their mouths as a means of keeping them silent, and she’d nearly lost a finger when one tried snapping at her.

Once they finished, she crouched down in front of a cultist with a large cross tattooed onto his left cheek, and propped her chin up on the backs of her folded hands.

“Hi. Hope you’re all feeling comfortable. No one’s going to harm you, I hope we’ve well established that by now, but I thought I’d make that clear just in case there’s any ambiguity going on. We’re about to roll on out of here with something that’s near and dear to one of our own’s heart, so as long as you sit pretty and do nothing, everything’ll go just fine. But before we leave, I’d like you all to do me a huge favor, just in the spirit of cooperation we’re trying to foster here. Nod once for yes, or shake your head for no.”

Daggers would’ve cut less, judging from the look she was receiving.

“…Okay. I can understand the resentment, but work with me here. When you get back to John, I want you all to give him a nice, big hello. I want you to greet him, I want you to tell him what we’ve done, and you can even embellish a little from there if you’re feeling creative and want to talk me up a little. Straight from the Deputy herself,” Hana said, making sure to draw out the syllables to the word like he would’ve. “You got it?”

The one that spat at her earlier mumbled-yelled a single word against their gag in response.

“Huh.” She lowered her sunglasses to look at them directly. “Hey, Kat? Did that sound like it was jam-packed full of the Power of Yes?”

She couldn’t see her, but there was no mistaking the snort she stifled. “Nope, not even a little.”

“Well, damn. I think John would be disappointed to hear that, but don’t worry. I’d have done the same,” she said, her lips twisting into a grin. “Because between you and me, I think I thrive off of his disappointment.”

---

With them wrangled and left as a parting gift for John, it was time to focus on the main event. The Widowmaker. With the keys in her hand, Hana made her way back around to the front, seeking her two main partners in crime.  It’d been a good ten to fifteen since she’d heard from them, which meant something was keeping them occupied, the only question was what?

…And could she get in on it too, if she was quick enough. Hopefully, the answer was a ‘hell, yes’.

Sure enough, she heard their voices as she walked up the side of the garage, and found them both standing right by the side entrance to it. Hurk stood nearby as Sharky was crouched down low beside the doorknob, fiddling with something in his hands, and their voices carried right over to her.

“-you’re right. We did try this once before, but I think it was using…”

“Dude, your dad’s older waterlogged shit was a pain to use. You gotta nail the right mix or you’ll get more pfft and less bang, and that’s just a letdown in every way.”

Sharky fiddled with the lock again, shoving something into it, and she was almost sad to step in. It was always interesting watching him work, even from a distance, and the end result was always worth it.

“Hey!” She whistled at them, and dangled the keys from her hand as she approached. “Much as I love MacGuyver and the whole jerryrigging a bomb out of chewing gum, a toothpick, and hope thing you’ve got going on, we need to get the hell out of dodge. We’ve probably got fifteen to twenty minutes max before someone tries to radio in, and I know we’ll be in trouble when the group back there finally gets free.”

“Shit, so much for that,” Sharky said, dusting off his jeans as he stood up. “Just when I was ready to call you over, and get the others to gather round too.”

“I mean, if you still want to pop that thing, I won’t stop you. After all of that hard work, it’d be a shame not to.”

Flashing him a wry grin, her attention drifted to the right as she turned away, and she nearly did a double-take. This wasn’t her first pass by the place, but this was her first with the liberty to pay full attention to her surroundings, and the poster was honestly pretty hard to miss given she was the subject.

“…Huh.”

This was supposed to be her, with her hair tied back, her sunglasses absent, and an interesting glint in her eye. The kind that usually came right before she decided to fuck someone up. For a rough representation of her, it wasn’t half bad. They had even nailed the freckles and the small scar on her chin, and she posed next to it as she considered it further.

But the real kicker, like with all of the others, was seeing stamped in large red letters below her face, the word ‘SINNER’. Like that was enough justification for wanting her taken in alone.

How old were these anyway? Had they been made shortly after losing her after the crash? After John took her? Hell, after Faith or Jacob’s turns?

It was tough to put a real timeframe on it, but the posters were in circulation now, just as they had been for the other key players in the Resistance, and she didn’t know how to feel. Either strangely honored to be enough of an annoyance to warrant it, or annoyed in general for them having to explicitly state it.

“They really do get off on the whole sinner thing, don’t they?”

“Everyone left running in the county’s got a poster, and some of us, even two.” Hurk said, patting his chest with pride. “I tried using a bunch of mine to get word about Hurk’s Gate out, but the giant banner saying ‘we won’t judge’ didn’t get a lot of flying before it was torched to the ground.”

“Killjoys. They clearly didn’t want the competition.”

“You’re telling me. It still kills me that they’ve got as many people signed up as they do, what with the ‘no fornication’ thing going on. Isn’t that just a recipe for bad feelings left to marinate when people can’t live, and love a little? I know I’d be harder than a diamond with some of those ladies I’ve seen walking around.”

Judging from Sharky’s solemn nod, he was firmly in that camp too, and she gave them both a knowing look. “I’m pretty sure there’s still fornicating. Get enough people together in close quarters long enough, many of which are just as pretty as the people leading them, and they’ll find a way.”

Thankfully she hadn’t had the awkward moment of stumbling onto anyone mid-screw, but if she did, she could only hope she’d handle the situation as tastefully as anyone in her position would. With carefully positioned eye contact, and any of the last shreds of her professionalism that she could scramble to apply.

“So, what do you two think? Is it a good likeness?”

Sharky turned, looking at her closely as she leaned against the wall. The poster was right between them, so he didn’t need to look far to make a comparison, but she could see his focus, and felt his gaze as he gave it some serious thought. Scanning every part of her face, she felt him concentrate on some parts more than others, and as her grin grew, she waited for him to make eye contact again.

“You know at first it, uh…“ He paused, drawing out the sound as she batted her eyes at him, and it took a good fifteen seconds for him to snap out of it. “Well, it looked like they got most of it minus the eyes.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he said, giving Hana a small smile as he rubbed the back of his neck. His attention had skittered away from her, but with the next few words it came back in full. “Looking at that versus the real deal’s just not the same. Like with you here, right in front of me? Most of it’s right enough, but when we talk about your eyes, Dep? Well, yours are the kind that are all deep and dark, and easy to get lost in.”

Her breath left her in a rush. “…Uh, come again?”

“Like give me five, and I’ll be able to break away, but it’s rough going knowing that you have to when you don’t want to. Cause you need me to be a badass out there, not someone thinking ‘man, it’s sweet knowing you’ve got an amigo whose eyes are like a really cool cave you could stumble into when you’re lost in the woods’.”

He was definitely shooting a sweet look at her now, there was no mistaking it.

“The deep and dark that you could curl up in, knowing it’d keep you safe overnight, and you could even build a fire and roast some marshmallows in it. Like get some real good s’mores going. Not the deep and dark that’ll get you killed by bears out in the middle of nowhere. Cause that shit’s what gets you. No poster’s going to catch that.”

Even drowning in metaphors and pseudo-bears, she could tell he meant it, and that made her immediately go three shades darker. “Oh.”

“…He’s got a point,” Hurk said, after looking between the two of them. “Caves and bears, aside. You, I can tell you’re a person. This here’s an approximation and one scary lady you won’t want to cross. Like your evil twin or the clone growing in the basement.”

Sharky crossed his arms, looking pleased. “See? Couldn’t have put it better myself.”

Oh, God. They needed to get off of this topic now. “So, Sharky, are you going to blow that thing, or do you just want me to cut whatever’s left of this suspense with a knife?”

“Oh! You seriously want me to…?”

She nodded, and tried not to think about the key digging into her hand.

His lighter was out in an instant. “You’ll love this, H. Promise.”

---

Her vehicles of choice over the years had always been on the small side. Sedans, coupes, compacts, motorcycles, she loved them all, and had at one point even tried to cram herself into a friend’s Smart Car just to see what it was like.

The Widowmaker was a literal force in comparison. It was a battering ram on wheels, her foot a lead weight on the gas as it took on speeds that allowed it to punch through barriers without even giving too much of a shake. With the horn blowing, and Barracuda coming in loud and clear through the radio, nothing stood in their way as they sped straight towards Fall’s End.

It was nothing short of incredible, and she could easily see why Mary May and her father loved it so much. There was no obstacle too great, or too strong to hold them all back.

When the last fell and Mary May radioed in, she let out the breath she’d been holding. The guys, plus Kat and the other Resistance members, had chosen to cover the rear, turning their little troupe into a veritable convoy. It wasn’t subtle, but a massive truck with a flaming paint job wasn’t about to fly under anyone’s radar for long.

But it was back at home where it belonged, and that was the first step.

“Well, look at that!” Mary May said as they rolled up. “One hell of a sight for sore eyes. You don’t even know how it feels to see those colors again, Deputy, but it’s good. Mind giving that a pull one more time just to let them know what they’ve lost?”

The expression she wore was a mix of proud, fond, and elated, and Hana hit the horn one last time with gusto before leaning out of the window to better speak to her. “Where’d you like this?”

“Out over here. Follow me.”

Guiding her, Mary May helped her park the truck in space tucked next to the Spread Eagle. Whistling nervously as she guided the thing around, Hana kept her eyes locked on Mary May’s position until she was able to maneuver it safely into place.

“I could the hear the horn coming all the way into town.”

Hana glanced down at Mary May and the growing grin she wore, and found herself wanting to match it. “Well, it was one pull for every roadblock hit, but I might’ve also pulled it for every truck, so…”

“Good. I hope you hit every last fucking one of them.” Mary May let out a long sigh, her shoulders relaxing as she stared over at the truck. “This feels right. Like I can finally welcome back what never should’ve left to begin with. It’s home.” The next few words were quieter, but Hana saw her lips move to form them. “He’s home.”

Hana settled in next to Mary May, the two looking up at the Widowmaker, as the others pulled up in their vehicles around them.  Screeching to a stop, the small group burst into a round of cheers, slapping their hands on the doors of their vehicles as the sound rose in volume.

Hana joined in, giving Mary May a wide grin as an impromptu drum roll started – hers done right on her thighs - and the group started chanting, “Speech!” over and over.

Mary May eyed them all with mild exasperation, letting them continue for a solid minute before gesturing for them to stop.

“All right, all right! That’s enough out of you all. Today, you’ve all proven why the Resistance as a whole is going to win this thing. By banding together to pull off what they’ve tried to tell us is impossible. You brought home and helped to honor the memory of a good man today. A great one, that would’ve paid good money to see you give every last member of Eden’s Gate hell. This one’s for you, and later on tonight, I’d better see you all down at the Eagle so we can celebrate this right!”

The whoops and hollers were louder than ever this time around, ending in them all pumping the air with their fists. Shaking her head, but with a broad grin, Mary May finally waved hem all off.

“Okay, now get on out of here! We’ve got work to do before tonight, and I know those roads won’t be left clear for long.”

A few of the trucks drove off, waving at the two before zipping down the street, while other members of the Resistance hopped out to help in town. She caught Sharky’s eye as he and Hurk popped out of the truck bed nearby, and he ran up to her, trying and failing to put a lid on his excitement.

“Yo, they’re looking to head off some supply trucks headed south of here. Cracking one of those open’s kind of like Christmas come early, so…”

“We totally want to hop on that while we can,” she said, rubbing her hands together. “Sign me the hell up, but you two go on ahead for now. I’ll be right behind you.”

Sharky looked disappointed for a flash until Hurk slapped his arm and gestured for him to follow. The two tailed Kat as she launched into a story about the silo they had blown along the way, and Hana watched them head in the direction of the general store before turning back to Mary May.

“You know, he’d like this.”

“…This?” Hana asked, jabbing her thumb back at the Widowmaker.

Mary May waved her off. “If you’d brought it back in flawless shape, I’d have doubted half of what you got up to on the way.”

“Either way, you want this spit-shined back to perfection, I’ll do it myself. Repairs and labor, I’ll make it happen,” Hana said, ticking off each on her fingers.

“Deputy, you’re welcome to the Widowmaker whenever you’d want it. After what you’ve done to bring it back home, I know my father would want us to keep its spirit alive. Not through keeping it here, locked up and safe, but out there doing what it does best.”

She turned to Hana, and lightly tapped her arm before heading off towards the Spread Eagle.

“And I know you’d have an idea or two that would suit it just fine.”

---

Things had changed in Fall’s End.

It had been a gradual change. Slow, and steady as the buildings formerly left empty and hollow took on a different kind of life.

The colors of the Resistance flew high as the last of the cult’s banners and influence were torn down and destroyed. Trucks cruised in and out, many of them bringing in family and friends formerly thought lost as word spread throughout the region that it was safe to come back. Others walked the streets, armed still, but no longer afraid of what that might cost them.

And there was no place she felt it more keenly than at the Spread Eagle.

The bar buzzed with activity, far beyond those early days when she’d shared a beer with Jerome and Mary May. Back then, it felt like a toast welcoming better days. A spoken and unspoken promise that they would all get there somehow, and this honest to God, felt like progress. Actual, possible progress.

Hana basked in it as she leaned against the bar, letting her eyes fall shut. She’d always been a city girl, used to crowds and people more than the silence the country offered, and having the chance to feel that energy again was exhilarating. She never wanted that feeling to fade.

“Hey, you doing good so far?”

Her eyes snapped open, and she turned to better face Mary May. “I’m good. Working on getting better, but it’s a decent start.”

“What’ll help?” she asked, leaning against the bar. “It’s my job to ask while you’re up here.”

Hana shrugged, and played with one of the loose strands of hair that had escaped her bun. “Well…I was eying the special for a little while.”

“And?”

“You don’t actually mention what’s in it.”

Mary May shrugged. “I’ll tell you if you really want to know, but for that one I recommend giving it a shot before you do. It’s got a punch to it, but one that I haven’t heard too many complaints about.”

“Yet?” That got her a look, and Hana chuckled. “Don’t worry. I doubt you’ll get any from me.”

She looked over her shoulder and took in the atmosphere of the bar again, the low music playing off to the side, and the two waiting for her nearby. They got a quick wave from her – she really hadn’t meant to linger this long, but her pursuit of a drink had taken a backseat to fun conversation instead – and she  turned back to Mary May.

“Was this close to it? One of the usual nights at the Eagle before things went…you know?”

“Went straight to hell? Not always, but this is a small town. Out of all of the things you can get up to here that’s legal, drinking and dancing’s one of the better ones.” She pulled out a glass and reached for a nearby bottle of vodka. “Probably would’ve seen you here before long too,” she said with a smile.

“Either for drinking, or dancing?”

“Why choose?” Mary May added a few other things to the drink as Hana watched, liking the sunset shade that bloomed from it. “Though I think you’re a dancer.”

Hana snorted. “Really? I mean, you’re not wrong, I just didn’t think it’d be that easy of a guess.”

The drink was garnished with a cherry and Mary May slid it towards her. “You hardly sit still for long, so sticking close to the bar to keep on filling her up until you’re blind just didn’t seem like the right pick for you.”

“No, I do love finding great ways to burn that buzz off. I’ll give you that too.”

Hana picked up the glass, and gave the liquid inside a small swirl before trying it. Damn. Mary May was on point tonight. Taking another longer drink, she slid a few bills across the counter and found herself trying to follow the rhythm of the song playing on the jukebox.

“But do you dance?” She swayed her hips a bit before leaning back against the counter, her smile definitely bordering on flirtatious.

“Not on my shift,” Mary May replied without missing a beat. “But ask me again when it’s over, and I might have a different answer for you.”

Hana bit back an awkward laugh as the other woman smiled at her, and when it grew into a legitimate grin, she tapped her fingers on the counter before retreating. “Maybe I will…?”

“We’ll see in a few hours won’t we? You better come back to check!” she called out after her.

Burying her face in her drink, Hana took a large gulp of it, and hoped no one caught any of that. Lucky for her, both Sharky and Hurk were plenty distracted when she approached, both of them pointing over at the group bordering the dance floor. Only a few were attempting to dance at this point, but the others were crowding right by the old arcade machine, yelling loudly for every success and failure the person playing encountered.

That was the primary draw of the spot at the moment, not the little jukebox in the back.

“That’s pretty damn sad, man,” Hurk said with a sigh. “When even the dancing’s taking a backseat to that-“

“It’s a fucking crime, right?”

Hurk turned towards her in surprise, both of them lighting up at seeing her, but his eyebrows went up when she quickly placed the drink down and started digging around in her pocket. Pulling out a twenty dollar bill, she unrolled it and tugged it between her hands.

“This place does need more dancing, but to do that we need the right music. You make this magic happen, and I’ll gladly pony up the funds for it.”

The surprise faded in a heartbeat, as Hurk’s expression went serious. “Done and done, Deputy V. It’ll be my civic duty, because no one’s out there doing so much as a drunken do-si-do, and that’s just insulting.”

Her face scrunched up at the nickname, but once Hurk had taken the cash and all but sprinted towards the dance floor, her sour expression faded fast.

Plopping down in the chair next to Sharky, she let out a contented sigh. “Ah, now the relaxing can begin. Taking any bets on how much longer they’ll last?”

“Dude’s some kinda wizard at it. I can’t think of a time when he isn’t up there messing around with the game, which sucks, because what if someone else puts a quarter up there hoping to get in a turn? So much for common courtesy and the gamer code, man. Shit’s falling apart.”

He took a drink, aiming his glare right over at the arcade machine, and Hana idly wondered just how many turns he would’ve taken with it otherwise. At the very least two, judging from the way he kept on watching, and she lightly nudged his arm to help him focus on something else.

“So, what are you going to do now?”

“Now?” Sharky put his beer down and gave her a funny look. “I’m gearing up to hit that dance floor in fifteen to twenty. Gotta get good and buzzed before dishing it out, though, cause these moves are certified deadly without easing in all gentle-like.”

Hana coughed into her drink. “No, not that. I mean tomorrow. Or hell, within the next few days. I figured I’d cut you loose, and let you go back to doing your own thing.”

“Uh, that’s…you were?”

There was hurt there. Just for a second, as he buried it back down, and she frowned. “Yeah, I figured you’d be sick of running around with me, and wanted to, you know. Go back home, help Addie, or work on that antifreeze problem that’s been bugging you.”

“Nah, man,” he said, giving her an easy smile. “With you, it’s a fucking party every day of the week, and I don’t know what’ll come up tomorrow. I can burn shit all day any day back there outside, pants-free, and drunker than a skunk. Here it’s after taking a motherfucking joyride through Peggie roadblocks, while hurling molotovs in an action hero’s dream ride. I haven’t had this much fun in…” He paused, ticking it off on his fingers, then waved it off. “Years, easy.”

“Sharky, seriously-“

“I’m being serious! And someone’s gotta watch your back. I’m here with you right now, so that’s covered, and should’ve been covered the other three times they came in, took you, and somehow did it without anyone noticing.” He crossed his arms, and gave an aggravated huff. “Which, I guess I gotta get on their level next time to stop that shit, or we both start doing everything back to back which is weird-“

“Just a little,” she said, hiding her smile behind her hand.

“Especially since I know you don't want to see what goes down when I wake with a problem. Like a hard one that really only a hands-on solution’ll fix. …But it’d take only take ten to fifteen minutes max to crank it out, so I could tell you when to start looking my way again so you won’t see my dick hanging out. Who’s gonna do that when I’m gone?”

She chewed on her lip, thinking every last bit of that over – some parts more than others - and started chuckling. “Geez, that’s…I really don’t know. It’s a pretty compelling argument.”

“Hell, yeah it is.”

He was serious. At least as serious as she’d ever seen him, and she leaned forward to rest her elbows on the table between them. “I guess I’m just stuck with you then. Or, actually on the flip side, you’re just stuck with me. Sure you’re ready for that?”

Mirroring her, he leaned forward too, except he held out his right hand to her. “Ride or die, H. That’s how I roll.”

It took her a minute to react, split between what he’d said and the fact that she didn’t doubt him. Not in the slightest.

She clapped her hand against his, held it, and couldn’t quite stop the shy smile that crossed her face. “Because, how’d it go? We shoulder each other’s burdens and shit?”

“From one amigo to another.” He pointed at her and winked, keeping her hand in his.  “Ain’t any other way I know it.”

A tray hit the table right by her elbow, making her jump in her seat.

“Fucking finally,” Hurk said, swiping a hand across his forehead. “Took me fifty years to make my way back, but there was one hell of a line at Miss Mary May’s so…”

He looked between them, and raised an eyebrow.

She quickly let go, and spoke up before Hurk could. “Still looking to hit that dance floor later?”

“If it’s the last thing I do tonight. This place’s starting to act like the party up and died, and I just can’t abide by that.” Hurk pushed the drinks towards them. “Get on this, and we’ll get-“ he pointed towards the empty spot in front of the jukebox – “on reviving that.”

“Cool, let me actually grab something guaranteed to speed up that process.”

She slipped out of her chair, walking way too fast for it be subtle, but made her way over to Mary May again and hoped her face wasn’t as red as she feared it was. “There’s no limit on the special, right?”

Mary May was wiping down a glass, and gave her a curious glance. “Nope, long as you’re paying, and not spraying.”

She slid the cash across the counter. “I’ll take two.”

---

Both drinks had been for her, and both were shot shortly after being poured. She then proceeded to make her way back over to the guys, both of which had soundly put a dent in Hurk’s pre-dance offerings.

Coming straight from Mary May the next day, what she witnessed happen on that dance floor was some of the worst dancing she’d seen in a long while. Which seemed a little unfair considering she had tried to at last bring her B-game with some solid 80’s and 90’s moves to keep things lively.

It had felt good and pretty coordinated in the moment, she’d figured. She was also certain she’d kept her limbs from knocking against Sharky’s too much as he lead her through the next disco move he demonstrated, and hadn’t collided with Hurk more than once, maximum. She’d swear on it the next day, even with Mary May shaking her head at her.

At some point the music had changed. Their playlist had run out only for someone else to feed the jukebox, and the new tune meant a shift in mood. So, the softer thing made sense for a waltz or slow-dance, and she grabbed for one of the guys to get with it.

She had been promised dancing, dammit, and right now, silly and drunk as she was, this was the first happy and carefree thing she’d been able to do in weeks.

Hurk was first, and let her take the lead. He even let her keep it too, with her half-stepping on his feet, and mid-way through she was sure he attempted to make it a tango. Complete with the cocktail stirrer between his teeth, and who knew when the hell he’d grabbed it. Only that his eyebrows were going into overdrive, and she was going to laugh herself into a pile on the floor.

When she came out of it, still giggle-snorting, Sharky took his turn, and she nearly smacked him in the face with her elbow when she stumbled into him.  He steadied her, giving her something solid to hold onto, and took her hand in his as he placed the other on his shoulder – both of his hands surprisingly steady for how many drinks along he was.

Once she was in place, he nodded when he was ready. She nodded back, her chin tilted up to meet his eyes, and let him take her around. It was the kind of dancing she hadn’t done since her prom, but it felt right as the older tunes from the jukebox kept on playing behind them.  

He concentrated hard on this, watching both of their feet, and she knew she was swaying too much for him to make up for all of it. In, out, he was the one balancing her as they turned, and her forehead bumped into his chin, making them both hang in place as they rubbed at the sore spots that smack earned.

An idea hit as she held onto him, at times almost flush against him, and she got it out while she could still verbalize it. “Hey,” she said, leaning up on her toes to whisper in his ear. “Dip me.”

He gave her one hell of a strange look. “Dip what?”

“Dip me. You know. Like hold onto me, and lean me back? Like in those old classic ballroom dancing movies?”

“Uh, don’t think I’ve seen too many of those, chica.” He turned towards her, their faces a lot closer than before, and he grinned. “I kinda got an idea of what you mean, though, so let me know if this does it for you.”

The dip after nearly threw her off, making her squeak as he attempted it, but she held on. And when he pulled her back up, the rush left her feeling giddy all over.  

It was on dip number two that she felt a jolt. An uncomfortable lurch, lingering somewhere between her stomach and her chest that he could read right from the position he was holding her.

“You losing it, Dep?”

She swallowed, and cringed. “I am totally losing it.”

Hoisting her up, she sprinted for the door, and barely made it to the Spread Eagle’s curb outside before vomiting.

“I think I’m done here, hon,” she croaked. She held on tight to Sharky’s arm as she wobbled in place, spitting a few more times to get the taste out, and let him pull her up. “Is this-“ she gestured towards her face, “pretty gross, or?”

“Nah, you ain’t gross. Just feeling close to it, right?”

He handed her a handkerchief, and she swiped it across her mouth. “Yeah. So gross.”

When she was sure she was decent, she leaned her head against his chest, and felt his arms wrap around her. Being held like that, close and warm, made her eyes slip shut, and she hummed contently as they stood there together.

“Where you staying at?”

He had to ask the question twice, likely because her first answer was mumbled directly into the material of his hoodie. “Upstairs. Mary May’s got the details.”

“I’ll get you there, shorty. Don’t worry.”

Holding onto him tight, she followed him as he guided her back inside.

[over-canon-watchh]

Hello! I've been thinking about OW characters' hobbies. What do you think they'd do in their free time? ^^

So wholesome!!Also feel free to request any prompts to do with this((+Suggest some more in the comments))

Ana: GardeningBastion: Bird WatchingBrigitte: BakingDoomfist: BoxingD.Va: GamingGenji: DancingHanzo: PhotographyJunkrat: The same thing we do every night Pinky, try to take over the worldLucio: MusicMcCree: GuitarMei: KnittingMercy: ReadingMoira: PaintingOrisa: PotteryPharah: Football (Soccer, if you will, but Rugby works too)Reaper: PoetryRoadhog: GamblingReinhardt: DogsittingSoldier: 76: ComedySombra: CookingSymmetra: WritingTracer: ScrapbookingTorbjorn: Beer BruingWidowmaker: BalletWinston: Stamp CollectingZarya: Weight TrainingZenyatta: Studying

[embodies]

DOWN THESE MEAN STREETS... scene prompts inspired by neo-noir, violence, control. ACCEPTING. gutter. the trail of blood ends and widowmaker find mercy broken on the ground.

@mawgores. amélie lacroix & angela ziegler.

the scene of the crime is a massacre. it is the only fitting way to describe it, for bloodbath would be too generous a word, not adequately picturing the carnage that has been wreaked by the likes of talon. it is not lacroix's signature work alone, although her personal stamp of the widow's kiss is noted in several skulls. bullets punched through layers of bone, gaping holes left in their wake. pools of blood form 'round their heads like crimson halos. reyes' leftovers are messier, less delicate in his deliverance of death, and mauga and akande's never - ending rivalry is painted in punches and chaingun trails that will take weeks of renovation to erase. les garçons seront toujours des garçon, she thinks to herself with a roll of amber optics as she nimbly steps over the carcass ( for ' corpse ' would be too kind ) of an unnamed citizen. collateral damage affects most talon members in the early days, but the likes of widowmaker has never experienced such guilt. or much of anything.

a rusted trail piques her interest : still fresh but darkening, surveillance skills critical in assessing the story it tells. smudged fingerprints suggest a struggle to crawl away, an injured animal tries to return home to die. widowmaker cannot risk the chance of survivors and so follows, heel of her boots echoing eerily in the too quiet landscape. the picture she stumbles upon is almost too good to be true, the fallen angel, oil on canvas, alexandre cabanel, 1847. not at all the same as the masterpiece visually, but just as romantically striking. it is one of the few things that gives the sniper pause, to see dr. ziegler so uniquely vulnerable. the caduceus staff lingers upon an open - handed palm, fingers still twitching to grasp it. what must it be like, to still wish to heal even in death ? she cannot begin to imagine. the medic is critically injured, notably not by lacroix's hand or she would not be still breathing. but it is evident the guardian angel will not be with them for much longer.

not deeming her a threat, moment is taken to be lost in thought and reflect on mercy's place in the world. widowmaker is not callous per se nor vindictive, so rather than basking in this moment or relishing the kill ( for the simple reason that it was not hers ) she instead maintains the respect of one witnessing a passing. can't help but wonder, selfishly, if things would have been different should angela have been her creator rather than moira. if a remnant of the dearly departed amélie may have been preserved at the hands of o'deorain's antithesis. if she could feel. eventually the acceptance comes that she will never know. at ease with this, a shrug develops into a roll of her neck, stooping to retrieve precious staff ( talon will benefit vastly from the technology ) and in turn press a kiss to her fingertips, then fingertips to ziegler's cheek.

❛ bonsoir, chérie. ❜

she doesn't spare a glance back as she walks away.

[sharky857]

How to capture the perfect closeup shot:

Get Widowmaker;

Use her scope;

Press “ALT + Z” to disable HUD temporarily;

Press “Stamp” to save the screenshot;

Done!

(And of course: press “ALT+ Z” again to reenable HUD)

[thewenglishwarlock]

Pro tip: Calling your healer names and screaming at them like a toddler in dire need of a nap is not a good way to get healed.

It is on the other hand a wonderful way to ensure that you don’t get any healing.

[the-real-overwatch-lore]

there is no title

D.Va is a fake gamr gril

OOOOOOOOO FUICK I’m BACK ON MY BULSLHIT AGIAN

She’s a member of the KKK

She wore white onec so she’s a KKK clan, the Ku Klux Klan Klan if you will

I AM FREE

memebr.

Dva has a confederate flag tramp stamp. She got it after a night out drinking with zenyatta. He got a swastika, which is why he wears the weird belt-sash-thing.

I’m not sure if it’s weirder if brigette and rein are banging or if they’re not

TORBJORN IS HERE WE MUST STOP HIM BEFORE HE BECOMES TOO POWERFUL

WHERE IS DOOMFIST WE NEED HIM NOW, ONLY HE CAN STOP THE POWER OF GOD

JEFF

JE

J

RBJO

ORBJOR

TORBJON

JEFF=TORBJORN

JEFF IS TRYING TO TAKE OVER THE WORLD YOU ALL NEED TO REALIZE THIS++

TORBJORN

ALL HAIL ORB JORB

W HVAE TO STOP GEOFF

BEFORE IT ARE LATE

ALSO

SO

ASLO

D.va being a fake gamer girls of great streaming for showing the tits and ass, became the best startcraft stream in the land. She really sucks dick at games but her rabid following of cucks made her so well know as the best PRO GAMER the korean military falling into her fake gamer grill web soon made her the leader of the mechs. But shes turned out to be shit, now the military is murder all streamers that say otherwise to try and save face, until the propaganda office came up with the russian botnet michael chu, which through the power of slav shit and hacker power made all you sheep believe that it is the writer for overwatch BUT IT IS ALL LIES DO NOT BE FOOLED BUY GOLD BUY GOLD

BUY BITCOIN BUY BITCOIN SELL BITCOIN SELL BITCOIN ITS CRASHING OH GOD MY MORTGAGE HELP

Zarya made the gloglogabgoblosasdfkjnidvcb man. The gobgogobaglab was a russian Omnic that had flesh and got in a house and really liked books. Because it was russian and Zarya is russian that means she made it.

NO BUY OMINCCOIN ITS DEFINITELY NOT A SCAN

Donald Glover is hero #503, his ult will just uninstall the game and pirate his entire discography

ULTRA INSTINCT IS A GIRL WITH A DICK

No fuck you instinct is the worst skill

And then we watched shitposting the end

Gerard and reyes were lesbian lovers which is why widowmaker joined talon for the reverse-dead-husband-cuck fetishists out there

So how is omnic babby formed?

Simple really, ordinary birth.

Well that’s done.

Can human fuck the ombrik?

Ord can only the omdick fuk the hummus?

Lrn 2 sple

Nej

Vore-based ult when

Zarya’s ult is a Vore ult cuz it sucks

O shit

Ur riech

Hitler as a servant went I NEED GENDERSWAPPED LOLI HITLER EVERYONE KNOWS SHE’S THE CUTEST BEST WAIFU SHE KILLED THE JEWS BECAUSE SHE WANTED YOU TO NOTICE HER

\\

NO FUCK YOU MUSSOLINE BEST WAIFU

So would Hitler be flat or have massive tits? Like this is what keeps the smart people up at

night Stephen Hawking’s last thoughts were about This very thing

No, have you seen that motherfucker’s paintings? Landscapes are FLAT. moe hitler would be flat as a goddamn board

FLAT HITLER IS THE ONE TRUE HITLER

Stalin is thicc as FUCK tho

Tru faks

Eisenhower the true tsundere tho. “It’s not like I want to be elected president or anything, b-b-baaaaka”

Trump is gonna build a wall to keep the omnics out

You real talk tho did trump exist in overwatch? Rhetorical question

Trump founded underwatch but then it got impeached :(

WAIT

NO

MATTIS IS SOLDERI 76

IT ALL MAKE SENSE

THOT DETECTED THOT DETECTED THOT DETECTED THOT DETECTED STAY WOKE STAY WOKE STAY WOKE THOT DETECTED

[mymind--themess]

Reyes’ Widow/Reaper’s Wife Pt.2

I decided to continue my little short story onward because honestly it was just so at the forefront of my mind at work. Enjoy!

The years had gone by without fail, no matter if you didn’t age anymore or not, and Marianna and Marisol were now beautiful, bold, and twenty-one. You had to be honest, you genuinely couldn’t have been any prouder of them. 

Mariana was now a renowned engineer and inventor in both the medical and technological fields. She worked alongside those left of Overwatch often, feeling the need to learn more about her father and those he had worked with. She had gained much of her looks from you, from her (e/c) orbs, to her (h/c) tresses. But otherwise? She was Gabriel, and there was no denying it. Marianna would smirk or make any of his other damned facial expressions to a tee. She always remained calm in a difficult situation, having been blessed with being a natural born leader. Unfortunately, she was also blessed with her father’s bluntness and intimidation. Her glares were sharp, like iced blades.

Marisol was the opposite of her older sister and a very valued assassin, deciding to follow in the family footsteps that you, and your mother, and her mother before her, had left behind. Marisol was hired for high prices by companies both good and bad, placing herself within the shades of grey. Marisol had Gabe’s wild mess of black curly tendrils atop her head that had been dyed an electric blue at the tips and her chocolate orbs burned with a fire that was intense -- because that’s what she was. She was all you personality wise, and people could tell. Her charming smile that was clearly from you left searing burns in people’s hearts, and when she wanted something or felt something, she pursued and felt passionately. 

And it would be Marisol attracting a certain hacker of Talon that sets shit off.

Fuck.

You stared questioningly as you watched Marisol’s phone go off with another alert for the tenth time in about a half an hour, tilting your head to the side as you studied her slumped posture, the way she bit her lip as her elbow rested on the patio table to support her head. Marianna also had briefly glanced up from her work and over to you, then to Marisol, then back to her computer as she typed. While Marianna was confused, Marisol’s inner turmoil was obvious to you, and you knew all too well what the situation was. “Nothing quite like a lovers’ spat.” You spoke up.

Marisol’s head snapped up as she gave you a surprised look, but she soon gave in and crossed her arms with a sigh. Of course you knew -- you always knew. Marisol and Marianna both hated how easily you could read people, especially when it came to you reading them. “They suck...” She mumbled.

You nodded, placing your mug down as you leaned forward a bit to show interest and support. “They do, mija. I went through a few times like this with your father, so I get it. But I gotta ask, what’s so bad that it gave you a sleepless night? Those bags under your eyes are awful.”

Rubbing her face in both hands, Marisol groaned again, “I...I can’t see her anymore, Mom. No matter how much I like her.”

“Why not?”

“Because she’s trouble.”

“You love trouble, sis.” Mariana stated with a smirk, eyes not moving from her screen.

“Yeah, well, I don’t love Talon.” Marisol grimaced.

The silence was awkward as Marianna ceased her typing, and you couldn’t help how quickly you had tensed. Talon was off limits to both the twins,and they only had a very vague idea as to why. See, they knew some things now, but they still didn’t know the true identity of Reaper. They did however know of Moira and knew you loathed her after she had slept with Gabe. (I want it noted that there will be a flashback of Pre-fall Gabe x Reader throughout this little series, and things will be explained.) It took you a moment and a deep breath before you looked to your youngest daughter again.

 “I’m sorry, did you say, Talon?” Marianna questioned, eyebrows raised as she closed her computer, pulling another Gabriel facial expression.

“I swear I had no idea.” Marisol started slowly, getting up as she began to pace back and forth. “I met her on an “assignment” in Dorado. At first it was just a casual thing but it turned into something more, okay? I didn’t know she has ties to Talon until Moira called her phone last week. I finished up and got the fuck outta there and I’ve been ignoring her texts and calls since.”

“What does she do for Talon?” Marianna interrogated further.

“Fuck if I know, fuck if I care! I just...I miss her. And her texts are literally tearing my heart up.”

You sighed as you extended a hand for her cellular device, wanting to see for yourself. “Can I see?”

Marisol handed over her phone to you after a bit of hesitation. You unlocked her phone with ease and opened the messages. 

10:30 a.m. Olivia: Mi sol, please, answer me.

10:35 a.m. Olivia: I can explain!

10:40 a.m. Olivia: I really wanted to tell you. These past six months have been the best of my life, amor.

You blinked. Six months? She had been seeing this girl for six months? Marisol wasn’t ever the type to be romantically inclined to someone for more than a week. You sighed and kept scrolling. 

10:42 a.m. Olivia: Marisol, you mean so much to me. I had a feeling you’d react like this!

10:46 a.m. Olivia: Why won’t you answer me? I know you’re receiving these.

10:50 a.m. Olivia: Marisol, I love you. Please, talk to me.

10:52 a.m. Olivia: You can’t just drop me! We have an apartment together!

“You two got an apartment together?” You asked incredulously. 

Marisol sighed. “In Dorado... we got it to be our getaway for when shit gets too tough. We spend a week together there every month.”

It was now clear that this “Olivia” was being sincere, and you knew that Marisol was in too deep. You didn’t know what advice to give your daughter at this point. Knowing your daughter was close with a Talon member twisted your gut, but knowing she was brokenhearted because of this twisted it even more. Did you tell Marisol to keep seeing Olivia, or steer her away from love? Were you really still that afraid to see the Reaper?  Were you going to keep living in this blissful ignorance that this wouldn’t happen eventually? You weren’t an idiot... you knew you couldn’t keep hiding the twins from the truth forever. But still...

10:58 a.m. Olivia: If you won’t come talk to me, I’m coming to talk to you. I’m not letting you go; This isn’t over.

Damn, yandere much? You mentally snorted.

But then, it clicked, your body going positively numb as you stared blankly at the screen, before cursing under your breath. “Son of a bitch.”

This was gonna happen, whether you liked it or not.

Tossing the phone back to Marisol, you replied as you stood up and slipped on your jacket. If this was how it was gonna go down, you’d make sure you’d be prepared. “She’s a good kid. Text her back and agree to meet in Dorado. We don’t need Talon following her here.”

“What?” Marisol and Marianna asked in soft surprise

“She wasn’t trying to con you, she was trying to protect you. Don’t let Talon scare you away, Sol.” 

MEANWHILE @ TALON’S HEADQUARTERS

Olivia, a.k.a Sombra, sat in her quarters in Talon’s base, multiple screens pulled up giving a glow to the otherwise dark room. Phone set aside, the Talon hacker typed viciously against one screen as she pulled up intel after intel on Marisol (L/N)-Reyes that she could find. She had to find her, she just had to! Olivia hadn’t felt this way about someone in a long time, and she wasn’t about to let Marisol slip away. So the now slightly desperate Sombra was doing what she did best; Hack the shit out of every database. Olivia completely ignored the sound of the metal doors to her quarters slide open as Reaper and Widowmaker stood in the entry way. 

“How long has she been doing this?” Gabe asked, arms crossed.

“Hours.” Was Amelie’s simple response.

“Hn,”

The wraith ghosted his way over to Olivia’s side, disappearing and then soldiifying himself by her. “Sombra, what is this?”

“Have you ever been in love, Gabe?”

The quick snap in the hacker’s voice had caught Gabe a bit off guard, but it didn’t show behind the owl mask he wore nowadays. “What?”

Olivia turned her head sharply, moving her index finger to wave a screen with Marisol’s picture on it. “You see her? I love her. And because she found out I work for Talon, she isn’t responding to me.”

Gabe hadn’t ever seen the hacker like this, at all. “Alright?”

“No! No it’s not alright, pendejo! We have an apartment together! AN APARTMENT! A NORMAL THING!” 

Amelie glanced to Gabe briefly as she came to stand beside him. “I think she’s having a breakdown.”

“Me too.”

“Hush... Aha!” Olivia cried as three more screens came up. “I got my hands on her birth certificate and social security!”

“This is stalker-ish, even for you.” Gabe snorted in amusement.

“You have no idea how hard it was to find these,” Olivia retorted.

“You find things like this all the time.” Amelie spoke up. “Why was this girl any harder?”

Olivia typed rapidly, downloading and extracting the documents to load on the screens. “I’m about to find out.”

The three Talon members watched as the screen suddenly showed that the files were from stamped with the Overwatch symbol, and specifically derived from Angela’s files. Both Marisol and Marianna’s birth certificates and social securities were displayed. Olivia scanned Marisol’s birth certificate, noting Angela’s signature at the bottom. “Marisol Lydia (L/N)-Reyes. Born May 31st, 2070 at 11:34 p.m. Youngest in set of twins. Sister: Marianna Lexington (L/N)- Reyes. Mother: (Y/N) (L/N)-Reyes...Father:,” Olivia’s eyes went wide, as did Gabe’s behind his mask as she read the last part.

“... Gabriel Reyes -- Deceased.”

The silence spoke volumes about the shock from all three in the room...well, not Amelie. She couldn’t feel anything -- but wraith that was once a man felt everything. Behind that mask and stiff stance was a very shaken Gabriel Reyes. His voice didn’t betray this though as he let out a monotone response. “This is...impossible.”

Olivia was just as surprised, pulling her hands away from the screens as she stood up from her chair. Was this why Marisol had called it off as soon as she found out? Olivia glanced over to her phone, about to send a text to question Marisol, but was greeted with a text of her own.

11:00 a.m. Marisol: I’ll come to Dorado, to our apartment. We can talk there. Saturday. Noon. 

“Sol texted back...she’s willing to meet me in Dorado.” Olivia stated, showing her Talon partners the text before doing the next thing she did best; persuade. She pulled up a picture of Marisol and moved it in front of Gabe before pulling up a picture of Marianna that had popped up from an article as well. “Now...I don’t know about you Gabe, but I’ve got a lot of questions. I’m getting mine answered...are you?”

Gabe stared at the photos, taking in the looks of both twins. The opposite blends of himself and you, and he knew he couldn’t stay away. Not now. He hand’t even known you were alive, or about them. Did you know about him...?

Staying silent, Gabe inclined his head to Olivia as he spoke. “Keep digging until we leave for Dorado.”

“I’m on it.”

[wengoku]

the widowmaker skin gets the eeveegay stamp of approval

LOL did ellie say she likes it or s/t? I kin

[fataliitea]

(All examples used: widowmaker, mei was a personal project, finger guns tracer, beach tracer, sad zenyatta, chibi living doll, stark girls, kubo, joseph and dadsona)

Been meaning to make this post for a while now but here it is! As my followers are aware, my situation at home isn’t the best. I am unemployed and living with a family who don’t understand that I cannot survive in the world as best as they thought. I have a phone bill that’s only going higher and I owe rent to my parents. Not to mention I cosplay as a hobby and that isn’t free.

Yes, the prices are fairly low, but I’m hoping this will draw some traffic so I do better in the long run!

Commission details: if you do want something from me, please give me the character you want drawn (if it’s an oc, i ask that you provide a ref sheet), a possible outfit and pose. If you do not give details, I may not do the commission or do my own thing if the inspiration sparks. For digital, I will send you the file via email so you get the full quality and you have full consent to do what you want with the image as long as you credit me. I will post it to my tumblr as an example for others. For traditional, I will scan the image and make minor tweaks to the image. Nothing more than fixing the contrast and brightness for viewing sake. If you do not wish for it to be edited in any way, please state so in the request. If you want to image mailed to you, that will cost $4 extra (stamps aren’t cheap).

Things I will draw: Overwatch, OCs, Ships, One Punch Man, A Song of Ice and Fire (Game of Thrones), Marvel, Disney, Dreamworks (and studio laika). Things I WON’T draw: NSFW, detailed backgrounds, animals, detailed robots (like transformers, sorry), voltr/on.

If you are interested in a commission from me, please email me at: s_l_mcdowell@hotmail.com. Please include your tumblr url in your sign off of the email.

Also! Please allow for a couple days to pass before expecting your commission. I work slowly and may update you regularly on progress or delays.