baring street

smol-bean-is-me  asked:

I always had the idea of McCree asking out his crush. But then he forgets what the day is and Genji is like you forgot the date was today didn't you? And have a happy ending anyway 😋 thank you and I'm sorry teams can be butts

You sighed as you looked at your watch, heart aching as another minute passed. You didn’t figure that McCree would just stand you up but you just guessed you didn’t know him as much as he used to.

You quickly paid for your meal and left, biting back the urge to cry. You barely got down the street until McCree rant towards you, panic on his face as he grabbed your shoulder.

“I forgot what day it was,” he practically screamed and you looked supremely surprised, “I still love you.”

You just started to laugh, shoulders shaking and you smiled at him, “That’s good to know.”

“We should get tacos,” he said, “I’m sorry but we should get tacos as a makeup date.”

You just nodded, the two of you going to the Mexican restaurant Jesse absolutely adored.

2

Last night I experienced some @sixpenceee shit. I was walking around in my home town (which is actually really high in paranormal/spooky stuff like we have a new age store downtown. I live in the bible belt) and I had this pulling feeling to go down this road (first picture) and at the very end of it was this house (second picture) and I just got bad vibes all the way down the street. Before I go on I just want to mention I have a bit of a sixth sense. I get vibes from people or places and usually it’s only if I feel like they have bad intentions or if there is just a negative feeling or something, it’s a gut feeling and I usually listen to it. Anyway, about half way down there was this one road I felt like I needed to go down but the pull to this house was stronger.

I turned around to go back to the main road. The whole time though I kept turning around and checking out the house and stuff and I swear to god the hall light on the second floor was getting brighter the farther I walked away. I finally got to that crossroad again and I was just going to go back to the main road but I felt that pull again so I was like “this is a bad idea” but I did it anyway. Bad idea. I found out this crossroad ended near the cemetery. It was getting really dark and I knew it would be quicker to cut through the cemetery because it’s literally two blocks away from my house. So I went in. At night. There are only lights at the entrances and really dim ones on very few of the tombstones.

So I’m walking and I know I don’t need to freak out, it’ll just attract bad things but it was really dark and that house spooked me a bit. So I kept walking, occasionally turning on my flashlight on my phone to look at the paths a bit more clearly. I saw the gate near my house and thought this path I was on would lead me right to it but I took a step and stopped. There was no direct path, which was really weird because I swore there was a path there before. And I have a thing about cutting through the yard and being among the tombstones so I had to go around and take a longer path.

At this point I felt Something coming from the back/opposite side of the cemetery (for a small town, this is a huge cemetery) and I freaked and called my friend. I finally made it to my gate and went through. I was talking off my nerves and everything and I was starting to feel less bad vibes. I looked back and checked the gate a couple of times but one time I turned around and looked longer than just a glance and I got the worst feeling of the whole night. Whatever was following me made it to the gate. I’m a little mad I didn’t take a picture but I really didn’t want to stop for one. But just imagine a dark street with bare trees on one side of the road and some rough looking houses on the other with a gate at the end. And this gate is only tangible because of the yellow light cast upon it. Nothing seems to exist past this gate, there’s just black space behind it. It was eerie. I hightailed it out of there and stayed on the phone with my friend until I got home.

Mp100 characters as stupid shit I have done

Shou: Goes sledding down a pile of broken concrete and rusty metal bars. Ends up with a concussion and blacking out for 2 mins. Doesn’t tell anybody till years later

Teruki: tries to show off by doing a fancy jump into the pool. Hits head on the edge and wakes up getting stitches

Mob: spaces out while crossing the street. Barely avoids getting hit by a speeding ambulance

Ritsu: Goes to a pool party and lies about being able to swim to go on the water slide. Nearly drowns and comes to in mother’s arms. Eats pizza.

Reigen: Out of mouthwash so takes a swig of vodka, swishes and then swallows

Serizawa: Used scotch tape and paper towels as a makeshift bandaid because too shy to ask the teacher for a real bandaid

Touchiro: Convinces brother to play ‘pretend grocery store’. Insists on being the cashier and only using real money. Keeps money.

Dimple: teasing a friend then beats a bully with a hiking boot after they make fun of friend for the exact same thing

A different gym experience

So, I had an Experience the other day that I’d like to share. I’m low-key surprised how much it’s affecting me.

Lately I’ve been feeling like I needed something different for my exercise life. I’ve been slacking off and I feel it. It’s hard to get my ass to the gym, what I do when I’m there feels pointless. I don’t know what the goal is, or how to progress, or what’s the best things to do to help my particular body. Then a close friend wrote a long testimonial about a small gym he belongs to, and how they operate, and how it changed his life. So I decided to give them a call. It’s an independent, local studio owned by a husband and wife team. The woman welcomed me warmly when I came in for an assessment.

Great. An assessment. A word all of us fat folks just love, right?

The studio (I hesitate to call it a gym) is tucked away on a back street, barely more than an alley. It’s quiet. It’s all open space - no machines, or very few. All their exercises are done free standing, with weights, ropes, pulleys. This studio operates on the “small group personal training” model. They recognize that having individual attention is the best way to get the best results, but that most people don’t want to shell out megabucks for a one-on-one trainer, so they do small groups of no more than five. Plenty of individual attention from your coach, who knows exactly where you are in your workouts before the session, but nobody’s breathing down your neck. 

The owner asked me extensive questions about how I felt. Did I have pain or tightness anywhere? Do I sit a lot at my job? Did I have any symptoms or conditions? How do I feel on a daily basis? What activities do I like to do, what would I like to be able to do?

Then she took me through a thorough physical assessment. She measured my resting standing posture from a bunch of angles. She used tools to measure angles and distances between various parts of my skeleton. She had me hold a few very specific positions and then resist her pushing on my leg or arm to isolate specific muscles. She measured my range of motion in all my joints, the resting positions of my limbs, my flexibility in various positions.

She showed me around their studio. There were about eight people there, in two groups, each with a coach. That’s about as many as would ever be there, she said. The people exercising ranged from a woman bigger than me to a very fit-looking older guy. Everyone was relaxed as they sweated, everyone was smiling and interacting. Music was playing, but it was moderate-volume 80s pop. There were no TVs. It was…peaceful.

I signed up for their two-week trial. My first session would be a one-on-one session, with her, to teach me good form for the exercises they do, so that in my first group class I’ll feel like I know what I’m doing.

It wasn’t until I was leaving that it hit me.

She never weighed me. Or measured my body fat.

She never even mentioned it. She never asked if I had a goal weight, or how much weight I wanted to lose. The only time it came up was when we went over the “goals for my program” I listed on the intake paperwork, and that came from me. She only talked about me getting stronger, alleviating joint pain (my knees ain’t super great, yo), and feeling better.

In fact, I looked around as I was leaving - there wasn’t even a scale in the place.

I think I’m gonna like it.

[Note: I have specifically not mentioned the name of the studio - if you live in Columbus and would like to know, please message me and I’ll be happy to share it]

Don't Let Me Go

Request; Can you write an imagine where Spencer and the reader get in a fight before a case and the whole time Spencer is being passive aggressive with her until she ends up seriously hurt and he thinks she’s going to die before they got to make up? I LOOOOVE YOUR WRITING BTW ❤❤❤❤❤

Warnings; angst, gore, violence

A/N

This is kind of saaaaaad. Thank you for the request!



——-

“You never hang out with me anymore!” You yell as Spencer tries pushing past you to leave the house.

 "Y/N, I hang out with you all the time,“ he says calmly as you stare up at him accusingly.

"No, you don’t,” you frown. “We come home and you either read or sleep.”

“Oh my god, Y/N, move!” Spencer tries getting past again but you push him forward. 

“Are you cheating?” You accuse angrily. “Tell me the truth, right now." 

"I’m not cheating!” He replies incredulously. “Why would you even think that?" 

"Because you’ve been leaving every day and not coming home until late,” You reply, saddened. “I mean, it’s not like you have friends or anything.” The words left your mouth accidentally, and you regretted letting them free. Spencer’s calm demeanor had changed from calm to hurt and angry.

“I don’t have friends?” He asks with an eyebrow raised.

“Spence, I’m sorry I didn’t mean it like that.” You tried to fix your mistake, but the damage was already done. Spencer was staring at you like you had just killed someone, and that someone being him.

“Then what did you mean, Y/N?” He questions with disappointment. “You know, out of all the people who could have said that to me, I never thought it would be you. I’ve heard it before, trust me. I guess bullies never mature.”

Bullies?” You scoff, taken aback. “Spencer, it was an honest mistake. It’s just that you never go out and the people who are your friends don’t go out like this.”

“Just save it,” Spencer cuts you off and shakes his head. “I have to go.”

You watch as Spencer leaves the house once again like he did every day. His satchel and coat in hand as he left without saying a goodbye. No kiss, no hug, no ‘I love you’, just silence. You didn’t want to believe he was cheating, but it was the only logical explanation. This was so unusual for him, and at first, you suspected he had fallen back into taking dilaudid, but you would recognize the signs and he wasn’t showing them.

You let out an exasperated sigh as you plopped down onto the couch and looked out the window to see Spencer driving down the street and then disappearing when he turned the corner. Your phone sitting on the end table beside you began to vibrate, you figured it was Spencer, but when JJ’s name flashed on the screen, you knew it would be too good to be true.

“Hello?” You answer as you press the phone to your ear.

“Hey Y/N, sorry to be bothering you and Spencer on a Saturday, but we really need your guys’ help on this case.”

“Oh, it’s fine,” you brushed off the little sting in your heart at the mention of Spencer’s name. “I’ll be right there.” And with that, you hung up.

When you arrived at the BAU a little later than everyone, you hastily apologized for being late and quickly slipped into one of the chairs on the round table. Your gaze lands on Spencer, he’s facing towards the screen where Penelope is showing the murders and paying no attention to you.

“Damn, Y/L/N, did you miss the bus or something?” Morgan teases and you roll your eyes.

“Actually yeah,” you purse your lips and glance over at Spencer, “second vehicle that took off without me.”

Everyone diverted their attention Penelope as she explained the case, and you did too. You wanted to focus on every detail and let your mind focus on that instead of on Spencer. If he could ignore you so easily, you hoped you could do the same.

“You know, the unsub’s victimology looks a lot like Y/N,” Emily points out and everyone turns to look at you.

“You’re right, long/short h/c hair, e/c eyes, light/tan/dark skin,” Rossi observes all your features and nods. “You’re a match.”

“Well, we could use that to our advantage,” Hotch adds. “Only in extreme circumstances, though. I don’t want one of my agents getting hurt while getting used as bait.”

“I could do that,” you agreed, peering up at Spencer to see if he would interject, but he never did. His eyes were fixated on the files in front of him, scanning every word on the page.

“Alright, wheels up in 30,” Hotch announces and everyone gathers their stuff to leave the room.

You waited until everyone left and you hurried towards Spencer.

“Hey,” you greet, but his eyes didn’t meet yours. “Spence, I’m sorry. Can we stop fighting?”

“I have to finish reading the case,” Spencer says nonchalantly as he walks out of the office with his face still buried in the file. You frown and head outside to meet everyone in the jet, completely frustrated with Spencer.

Once you landed in the unsub’s territory and reported to the local P.D., you couldn’t help but look back at the plane ride to here. Spencer ignored you like he had in the meeting room, and he talked to everyone but you. Usually, he would sit by you and the two of you would either talk or read something, but he avoided you like the black plague. You tried meeting up with him when he was getting coffee, but he poured it at the speed of light just so he could avoid speaking to you.

“Y/L/N, are you feeling okay?” Hotch asks you silently after he assigned everyone to different locations. “You seem out of it.”

“Yeah, just the case has me feeling uneasy,” you lie, but he takes it.

“Alright then, you and Morgan better get to the coroner’s then,” he nods towards the car and you agree. You slip into the passenger’s seat and wait impatiently for Derek to get into the car.

“Come on, Derek,” you call for him outside the window. “I’m not getting any younger here.”

“Alright, alright, princess,” he puts his hands out in defense as he steps out of the sheriff’s department. “No rush.”

“Yes rush,” you scoff. “People are dying.”

“What’s got you so mad anyway?” Morgan asks as he starts the car. “Trouble in paradise?”

“What makes you think that?” You question curiously as you look out the window.

“Your usual bubbly self is quiet and irritated, you got here late and without Reid. Plus, the kid’s not giving you the time of day.”

“That obvious?”

“You guys aren’t slick,” Morgan chuckles.

While the two of you are at a stoplight, a car pulls up beside you. A large, rusted white pickup truck. You feel an uneasy feeling in your stomach and you gulp as the man driving the car looks at you with such wonder and lust in his eyes.

“Morgan, the vehicle beside me matches the unsub’s,” you explain quietly.

“What?” Morgan looks to your side, but the car was gone. “Y/N, you sure you’re alright?”

Seconds after the question rolls off his lips, a car slams into the rear end of the car, sending both you and Morgan flying forward toward the dashboard with the seatbelts still holding you back. Morgan regains his composure quickly and tries driving off, but in the seconds that the two of you were off guard, the unsub had driven to face your side.

“Morgan, go!” You yell. Morgan had tried speeding away, but the unsub was quicker. The unsub smashed into your side, causing the whole car to turn over. Pieces of glass were digging into your skin and you could feel the blood trickling down your head as the car lied on its side.

“Y/N!” Morgan calls as the two of you absorb the third hit, flipping the car completely upside down. You began to cough violently, the world was spinning and you could barely focus. The street intersection was a ghost town except for the rusty truck parked beside the totaled squad car. A pair of boots hit the pavement beside you, causing all your blood to run cold. You attempted to unbuckle your seatbelt, but you noticed a huge piece of glass sticking out of your side. You peer over at Derek to find him unconscious with little to no scratches.

As you were reaching over to the control center to call for help, you hear the door beside you open and you’re met with the same black boots from earlier.


A/N

There is going to be a part 2 to this!! It would have been way too long to be one imagine so I am going to split it! Sorry for any mistakes ;’)))

anonymous asked:

i hope you'll somehow still run this blog because ppl followed for your work and what you had created with your imagination and empathy. I hope you will cheer up, Love. If you still do requests, how about a vocation thingy ? With Jesse, Solider or Genji ? If you feel like it~ Lots of Love and best wishes, Anon

;-; thank you, sweetie <3 Also I went nuts. Roadtrip :D 

Masterpost 

Jesse McCree

 The strums of “Stand by your man” reached your ears as the bright, burning rays of sun began to dance across your face, waking you from your slumber at the back of the car. You slowly lifted your head off the leather of the back seats, the warm wind rushing through your hair, the sun-beaten landscape decorating your surroundings, bare yet beautiful. 

You rubbed your eyes, stretching your limbs and yawning. Your gaze was captured by your cowboy in the front seat, his chestnut strands dancing in the humid breeze, drumming his fingers on the wheel in-time with the beat of his terrible country songs. Jesse caught your movement in the rear view mirror and shot you a wide dog-like grin. 

“Hey, doll.” Jesse chuckled, leaning over and picking up his Peacekeeper from the passenger seat and placing it in the glove compartment safely. “Enjoyed your nap?” 

You leaned forward, kissing Jesse on his scruffy cheek before clambering into the shotgun seat, running your fingers through your hair, humming affirmatively. You pulled a face at his choice in radio choice, reaching over to change it. 

“Nuh uh, honey.” Jesse playfully slapped your hand away, instead intertwining his fingers with yours, stroking his thumb across your knuckles. 

“Where are we anyway?” You asked, squeezing his hand and looking around, the landscape looking like something that should be in an old western movie.

“I don’t know.” Jesse threw his head back and laughed, turning to gaze at you. “That’s amazing isn’t it?” 

“Being lost is amazing?” You questioned, smiling in spite of yourself. 

“We’re so damn lost.” Jesse sighed happily. “Talon doesn’t know where we are, Overwatch doesn’t know where we are, the world doesn’t know where we are. Kinda feels like freedom, don’t it?” 

You melted slightly. You kissed his knuckles lovingly before reclining back, stretching your hand up, letting the rushing wind press against your palm. Yeah. It did kinda feel like freedom. 

Soldier 76/ Jack Morrison: 

The highway your car was on was completely deserted, almost entirely silent if not for the steady hum of the engine. You looked up from the book you were reading out loud to Jack to look out of the window, the darkness coating the world in a dark blue tint. You dog eared the page you were on, tossing the book into the backseat, before looking at Jack, his silver hair gleaming in the moon-lit night and occasionally the artificial light of the bare street light. 

He didn’t seem as old in this setting. The night gently obscured the dark shadows underneath his tired eyes, made his harsh scars seem like they were lovingly drawn onto his face. His Alaskan-ice blue eyes momentarily glanced at yours, the edge of his lips quirked up in a smile. 

“Alright there?” Jack asked softly, watching the soft light dance over your features. 

You thought about your answer for a moment before smiling at him.

“Hmmm… Yeah. Yeah, I am.” You whispered. “You want me to take over the driving for a little bit?” 

“No, I think I can do a few more miles.” The soldier replied, looking the clock on the dashboard and rubbing under his eyes. 

You rolled your eyes slightly but accepted his answer, leaning over and kissing his cheek before tucking your legs underneath you on the seat, curling up slightly. 

“Are you all prepped to go on the Hanamura mission when we get back?” Jack asked, frowning slightly.

“Hey, Jack?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Forget Talon and missions and everything for a little bit.” 

Jack looked at you quickly, eyebrows raised slightly before smiling lovingly. He reached over and curled his pinky around yours, leaning back comfortably in his chair. 

“Sure.” 

Genji Shimada

 The sun was slowly coming up, it’s rosy-golden glow washing over you, painting the scenery in light. You sighed softly, glancing to the passenger seat next to you where a certain cyborg was napping, his mouth open and drooling slightly. You smiled at the sight, turning your gaze back to the road, tapping your index finger against the wheel and humming along to the J-Pop band that was singing on the mixtape you and Genji made for this trip. You pressed a button on the dash, the roof of the car reclining to let the cool air wash over you. 

Leaning over, you playfully poked Genji’s scarred cheek a few times until he stirred from his slumber, quickly shutting his mouth once he realized it had been open the whole time. He straightened up, wiping his mouth, the breeze making his soft ebony hair dance slightly. 

“Woooah. Look at that.” He noticed the dawn breaking, transfixed by the sight.  

You hummed in agreement, gazing at Genji lovingly for a moment before turning back to the road. Everything was slowly properly lighting up, the day slowly heating back up. You felt something gently nudge against your lips. Genji was gently poking one of his sweets against your mouth, grinning widely at you, eyes laughing. 

“Candy for breakfast?” You questioned him, taking a bite. 

“We’re on holiday, we could have cereal for dinner if we wanted.” He reasoned, popping the rest of the sweet into his mouth and stretching his limbs out. 

“Can you even taste it?” You asked, taking your hand off the wheel for a second to grab your water bottle. 

“Yeah, but the taste is dulled.” Genji replied, taking the bottle from you and opening it for you before giving it back to you. 

You drank deeply before giving it to him, enjoying the breeze against your face, his cool fingers touching your heated ones. Genji placed your water bottle back, smiling at you before looking back at the sunrise.

“Do we have to go back?” He suddenly asked. “Back to the headquarters? To the endless missions and training and… Everything?” 

“What makes you ask that?” You looked over to him, tilting your head. 

“It’s just… I’d rather do this. With you. Going nowhere, just happy with breathing and seeing.” 

“Soon, Genji. When all this is over, we can do this freely.” You promised, catching his hand and squeezing it. 

“I hope so.” 

anonymous asked:

hi! so i was thinking of choosing to be a digital artist as a career but im scared that ill be living in the streets with barely any money to sustain myself and just wanted to know if you have a career in being a digital artist? or if you're planning to? it would give me more hope to know that someone out there does have a career in digital drawing and i can ask questions like these lol, thank you if you answer!! :)

There is always a future for you if you have passion for the work you do.

because as soon as you loose passion, you stop trying..you stop believing that you can do it. Thats when you won’t get any where.
It is gonna be tough. Every job is gonna be tough.

Me answering “ Yes you can get a job” is a dangerous hope to hold on to.
We all want to have reinsurance but its truly all up to you to determine that yourself (and a bit of luck and connections).
I cannot ensure that you can get a job but I am pretty sure you might get one if you work smart & keep trying to apply in the right places.

I am still working hard to make a portfolio and hoping I can land a job offer here in the UK..but I have to prepare myself for the rejection and TRY AND TRY again till one day I can get a job some where.

dannypocalypse

my, uh, my hand slipped. anyways, here’s my contribution to the dannypocalypse. enjoy. |x|

           “You ready for this?” Tucker Foley queried, his eyes locked on his best friend as they walked down the street. Their steps had grown synchronized somewhere along the way; a habit that had started somewhere in sixth grade and continued into sophomore year.

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