in junior year of highschool my art teacher would let our ceramics class play music of our choice off of her desktop. we usually used spotify or youtube but she did have one album downloaded on her computer. it was a halloween sound effects/ambience collection. i dont remember why she had it. there was a track on there called "burning screams" which was exactly what it sounds like. just a cacophony of screams alongside crackling fire. she only let us play it on very special occasions, and we would cheer and jump with joy every time. it was like a pizza party to us
Based on a true story of me and my mom in the car
[genji making repeated fart sounds with his hands] [hanzo goes to hit genji but stops himself] Han: That was Restraint [genji wheeze laughs]
Looking for an Overwatch duo =3=
Hello!
I really need an overwatch duo partner for comp and qp 😭 I mainly play support and would be happy to pocket you -v-
Battle net: casidyslover #2560
Discord: Ezra⚾️ #6215
My name is Ezra
Age:15
Age range: 14-16 (IK a lot of people on this app are probably older that that tho😭😭
Mainly looking for a dps or tank duo
Gender doesn’t matter
I will call on discord but only when we know each-other well
I mainly play mercy, zen, and Lúcio (can play other supports but I’m not as good at them)
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i-am-not-a-guardian-deactivated
if you would be so kind as to reblog this if you feel insecure about your writing skills.
Posting the street racing AU from my Ao3 on here😫
Jesse never thought he would have the same freedom he has now. He definitely didn’t think it would come in the form of an old 1969 red dodge charger. And he definitely didn’t think it would feel like flying.
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Chapter 1
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The smell of gasoline and the sound of mechanical moving parts wasn’t something that Mcree thought he would end up loving, but now it felt more like home than anywhere.
He was seven the first time he smelt it. It was the day after they brought him home for the first time, the may sun still high in the sky, casting the garage in a soft, golden light. At first he hated the smell of gasoline, strong enough to burn his sensitive nose. Now, ten years on and he can’t get enough of it. It was like a drug to him. Addictive. Deadly.
At first he hated the clanking metal surrounding him as he walked in for the first time. It was overwhelming. Now it sounded like a sweet, soft melody reminding him he’s home.
He’d memorised every little detail of the old rundown garage. It was one of his favourite pastimes while gabe worked on whatever car had come in that day. The dirty oil covered rags either hung up on the pegs on the far left wall or thrown on the floor in a pile of inky black mess that he’s pretty sure no one’s ever going to clean.
He doubts that anyone wants to. Who knows what’s hidden in them. That and they’ve become part of the garage, everyone would notice if anything happened to them. Or the posters that lined the walls, peeling off at the corners. Each overlapping another as if there wasn’t enough room for them all, forever fighting for the littlest bit of attention. To be seen. But isn’t that what everyone wants? That’s what Jesse always thought anyways.
Or how the cars taking up the main floor. Even though they never stayed the same for very long he tried to remember them all. Sometimes when he saw one he really liked he would try to draw them but they always turned out bad, looking nothing like the car. He even remembers trying to draw gabes black 1967 impala that always sat out front in the glass showroom, shining under the high sun, ‘where she should be, in the spotlight’ Gabe had said any time Jack questioned why the car had to be out there every day.
Most of his fond early childhood memories were from the time he spent within the garage or in gabes car when he would drive down the barren dusty roads going way over the speed limit on the outskirts of town to a dingy little diner that always had at least one person in it. The place never got much attention but it was one of Jesse's favourite places to go to with his papa.
He still remembers the first time gabe took him out there and let him drive. He was 14 almost 15 when gabe took him down the old dusty barren roads that he’s been down a hundred times by now and knows them like the back of his hand. He still remembers them parking up at the start of a straightway, the sun high in the azure blue sky, not a cloud in sight.
“Hey kid, wanna try driving a real car?” Gabe had asked him looking straight ahead at the horizon.
“You sure ‘bout that?”
“I think I’ve known you long enough to trust that you would just up and leave with it.” He said laughing at jesses questions as if it was the most obvious thing.
“You ready to drive?”
He still remembers the feeling of freedom he felt, like nothing he’d ever felt. It felt like he was flying. Who knew that speeding down the old abandoned roads would be his first real taste of freedom. Of life.
Of flying.
He focused on the rattle of the transport. Gabriel’s eyes were glued on the scenery that sped past them as the carrier took them to the nearest support point. It was fast, but not fast enough. Jesse was lying in his lap, drifting in and out of consciousness. He’d rouse every now and then, murmuring indistinct complaints and shifting painfully. Gabriel’s arm was wedged under the stump where Jesse’s arm used to be, carefully keeping it elevated. Jesse needed help. He needed help faster than Gabriel was able to give to him.
——– ALRIGHT KIDS, TIME TO EAT A BIG HEAPING BOWL OF ANGST.
I couldn’t get the image of Lifeweaver doing this face out of my head until I drew it.
Price who starts the 141 as a way to hunt down the worst terrorists.
Price who brings together a group of odd yet talented individuals.
Price who witnesses each of these individuals break all expectations set.
Price who finds himself falling out of the harsh leader role during downtime and more into mentor.
Price who knows each of these individuals intimately and guides them where he can.
Price who catches himself feeling something awfully funny in his chest whenever the members of the 141 start calling him “old man” or “dad” as a joke.
Price who never admits he actually cried when the 141 gave him Happy Father’s Day gifts.
Price who calls his team his “kids” has more than once called his men “son”.
Price, who brought together a group of broken individuals and made a family out of them.
Price who holds the babies of his soldiers in his arm, “Hi love, I’m your granddad” falling from his lips as he stares down at this innocent babe.
Price who does the one thing he never thought possible, dies an old man, in his bed, surrounded by the family he made, everyone alive, everyone survived.
⚫💀 Ghost in Leather Jacket 💀⚫
A morning warm-up sketch that I made based on @angelsarewatching 's idea that I couldn't get out of my head.
The jacket is an Undercover A/W13 'Anatomicouture' Ribcage Leather Jacket, and that shit costs 3500 USD. But seeing how Ghost is so fucking dedicated to the aesthetic, I could definitely see he'd buy the shit out of this jacket (and he looks cool in it so it's worth it).
Hope you love it! (★‿★)
Here's a timelapse because I remembered :
zagreus hadesgame is the character ever. he never shuts the fuck up. hes bi and polyamorous. he has feet made of lava. he enjoys fishing after a long day/night of killing his enemies. he fucking sucks at playing the harp. hes immortal but forever in his 20s and useless. patricide is literally in his job description. he doesnt know what birds are. hes a dogboy. he has a bed in his room that he doesnt sleep in and only ever uses to fuck. he accidentally convinced his friend that dionysus and himself are the same person and got a song written about him. his tits are immaculate. hes my everything