Welcome to the Overwatch Fall Art and Fic Exchange. The theme is Fall. Interpret this how you will, be it autumn pieces and cozy sweaters, or the literal fall of Overwatch. Yes, your pieces can be Halloween inspired! Go nuts.
Sign-ups are open from September 1st-14th.
You can find all the info on this event here:Â https://ovwfallexchange.carrd.co/
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I am not as active on here as I used to be. If youâd like to keep up with me and my various shenanigans and writing, please consider following me at these locations:
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Druids sought enlightenment among the vibrant forests of Val'sharah for millennia, but now the region has fallen under the gaze of evil. A nightmare is spreading unchecked, and none are immune to its corruption.
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Started playing Pokemon Go again if anyone wants to add me as a friend? I love getting the little postcard gifts from locations across the globe. I also send them in return.
Hi everyone! After much deliberation, we are proud to announce our contributors for the Colovaria zine! We have 21 talented artists, 9 witty writers and 2 magnificent merch artists, as well as yours truly, the 3 mods working on this zine!Â
Do check out all our creators (LINKS UNDER THE CUT) and we thank you for your continued support of Colovaria!Â
Title: Pyro
Rating: T
Ao3: Click here, and donât forget to kudos!Â
Summary: Ashe finds her true calling in a rush of flames.Â
Elizabeth Caledonia Ashe hated a lot of things; like ballroom gowns, business luncheons, and yacht parties. But most of all, she hated Jesse McCree. All of these things had one thing in common: they grated on her nerves and pushed her to the limit. If it werenât for Bobâs calming presence, she would have jumped overboard by now--literally and figuratively.
When she wasnât cooped up in the mansion, she was out doing the one thing she did best: wreaking havoc. If there was one thing Ashe loved, it was watching the world burn. She found her true calling when her mother took her shopping. Though she had the money to buy anything she wanted, she felt a thrill when her hands wandered over expensive items and slipped them into her purse when nobody was watching. She felt a rush of adrenaline leaving the store. Ashe would ride that high for days, feeling the best she ever had.
Her penchant for stealing transformed into something more dangerous. As a teenager, she picked up smoking. Her parents didnât notice, but Bob did. He would brood at her silently as she lit up a cigarette and sat on her windowsill, flicking the ashes down at the expensive topiary. One day, one of those ashes happened to catch on the dry branches underneath the bushes. The sculpted topiary lion went up into beautiful flames. Ashe was in love.
She spent many of her nights setting fire to dumpsters. When she first started, she would flee immediately after starting the blaze. As time went on, sheâd stay longer and longer. Ashe would sit and watch the fire burn itself out. She loved the orange light, the warmth, the dancing shadows it cast. She would stay right up until the flashing blue and red lights of the police bounced off the alley walls.
It was in one of these instances that she met Jesse McCree.
In Asheâs humble opinion, it was one of the best fires she had ever set. Something in the dumpster happened to stoke the flame just right. The blaze roared to life, reaching heights she had never experienced before. For a brief moment, she worried that it might set the building behind it on fire. Then suddenly--
âHey there, darlinâ.â
Ashe felt her soul leave her body.
A young man stepped out from the shadows of the back alley. Ashe had no idea where he had come from or how long he had been there. She looked down at the lighter in her hand, then up at the fire she had so obviously set. Before he could say another word, Ashe took off running.
She had so much as reached the end of the alley when she felt a presence behind her.
A calloused hand gripping her arm.
A strong force pulling her back into the shadows.
âGet your dirty paws off me,â she bit out through clenched teeth, elbowing the man in the stomach. He didnât flinch. Ashe looked up at him, but he wasnât looking at her. His gaze was focused somewhere else, somewhere Ashe couldnât turn to see because his grip was iron around her arms. âWhat the hell are you looking at? I said let go of me!â
âShut up, will ya? Do you wanna get caught?â the man said in a rushed whisper. The sound of voices approaching made Ashe panic. It took all of her willpower not to break free and take off running. Three cops walked right by their hiding place, not bothering to look into the shadows.
âAnother one? Thatâs the fourth time this month,â one of the cops said as he looked at the dumpster fire.
âLooks like we have a serial arsonist,â another said.
âSo long as they arenât burning down houses, right? Call in the fire boys, thereâs nothing else to do here.â
As the cops chattered away, the man tugged at Asheâs arm. He beckoned for her to follow, pressing one finger to his lips. They slipped out of the alleyway through a gap in the fence Ashe had never noticed before. When they were well away from the scene, Ashe let the floodgate of emotions go, and to her surprise, so did the stranger.
âWhat the hell did you think you were doing back there?â He demanded.
âMe? I should ask you that! Who taught you your manners? Grabbing a lady like that. Itâs not proper. Were you raised in a barn?â
The man sneered, âLady? I donât see no lady. All I see is some rich chick gettinâ her rocks off on settinâ fires.â
âIâm not just âsome rich chick.â My name is Ashe and I do more than set fires,â she said with a scowl.
âReally? Well, Ashe, my nameâs McCree. Jesse McCree. Iâm sure youâll find that I do more than rescue damsels in distress like yourself, too.â
Ashe clenched her teeth to keep from saying something nasty. She didnât care if this âMcCreeâ saved her ass from being put in jail. There was something about him that rubbed her the wrong way. The set of his jaw and the look in his eye made her want to punch him. Before she knew what she was doing, she said, âI can prove it.â
Jesse let out a choked laugh, âYea, sure you can. Anâ pigs can fly.â
The overwhelming urge to prove herself, to show her merit, rose up in her very being. It replaced all feelings of panic, adrenaline, and anger. She looked at Jesse with earnest. He seemed taken aback by the fire that was struck within her. He let out another laugh through his nose, âAlright, you can prove it, but I ainât savinâ your ass this time,â he said. He looked up at the brightening sky, âBut for now, we better part ways. Meet me back here tomorrow night,â he said.
Just like he came into her life, he was gone with the blink of an eye. Ashe was left feeling nauseous at the realization of what she had agreed to do.
â
Ashe leaned against a wall smoking a cigarette. She tried to act casual, but couldnât help her shaking hands or shifty gaze. A calloused hand grabbed her shoulder and she jumped, dropping her cigarette on the ground. She looked up at Jesse with a gaze that could start fires.
âTry not to look so guilty. I could tell you were up to no good a mile away,â Jesse said, picking up her cigarette and putting it in his mouth. His face twisted in disgust and he threw it over his shoulder, spitting on the ground. âShoulda known you smoked cloves.â
Ashe smirked, âWell?â
âWell, what? Youâre the one thatâs supposed to prove yourself. Whatâre you gonna do? Steal a purse from one of those high-end stores? Bust a window?â Jesse said, then leaned in closer, âFall in love with a dashing cowboy?â
Ashe pressed her open palm against Jesseâs face and pushed him away. He stumbled backwards, catching his balance last second before falling on his ass. Ashe inclined her chin and looked down at Jesse with a glare he could only describe as pure evil, âListen here, cowboy. Iâm calling the shots. Youâre just along for the ride. Watch and learn.â
Ashe turned on her heel and walked away. She smirked when she heard Jesse follow.
Just like a dog on a leash, she thought.
Ashe lead Jesse down the sidewalk. She had thought long and hard about what she was going to do. She didnât want to get caught, and if she did, she didnât want the bail to be astronomical. Her parents could barely care about her in the first place, but if she cost them thousands of dollars in bail, well...Ashe reckoned theyâd start to care right quick.
They stopped in front of a dilapidated house. Jesse raised an eyebrow at her, but Ashe was too busy digging through her bag to notice. She pulled out a bottle stuffed with a rag and a lighter. Jesseâs lips twitched in an attempt to not burst into laughter.
âHey darlinâ, I thought you said you did more than light fires?â he asked.
Ashe didnât say a word. Instead, she flicked her lighter to life, touching the flame to the rag. She turned to Jesse and smiled. The fire cast her face in shadow and light, highlighting that maniacal grin and blazing eyes. It sent shivers down Jesseâs spine. She threw the bottle at the dead bushes in front of the house.
Jesse would be lying if he said he wasnât a little scared and a little turned on. While Ashe didnât prove she could do other things, he had to admit this was pretty badass. The flames lapped at the old, abandoned house, easily catching on the rotted wood. They stood there together watching the fire rise and engulf whatever it touched.
Jesse reached out to touch Asheâs arm. She jerked away, taking her eyes off her masterpiece to glare daggers at him. âDonât get any ideas, cowboy,â she said. Jesse smiled sheepishly and shrugged his shoulders.
Just as they decided to leave, the cops descended on them. This time, they didnât use their lights. One moment Ashe and Jesse were alone and the next they were surrounded by officers. Jesse looked like a trapped animal, ready to lash out and bite anyone who approached him. Ashe heard him mumble something about ânot going back there.â
Ashe was serene. The fire she had set roared behind her as they put her in handcuffs. She closed her eyes and revelled in the heat and the smell of smoke. Once that feeling took hold, it wouldnât let her go again.
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Itâs finally here!! Our labor of love is now available for preorder! Overcooked is a perfect-bound, full-color original art and fic cookbook featuring over 45 original illustrations and 10 original fics, accompanied by original recipes from the creators and their families that you can cook along with!
Our cookbook is available in both softcover and hardcover (as well as PDF) versions! Bundles for the softcover and hardcover version include:
Tier 1: Physical copy of the book
Tier 2: Physical copy of the book plus pre-order merch bundle 1 (2 stickers, 1 print, 1 double-sided charm)
Tier 3: Physical copy of the book plus pre-order merch bundle 2 (2 stickers, 1 print, 1 double-sided charm)
Tier 4: Physical copy of the book plus ALL merch from tiers 2 and 3, PLUS bonus print, unique double-sided charm, 2 extra stickers, sticky notes, apron and PDF copy of the zine!
ALL HARDCOVER PURCHASES COME WITH A PDF VERSION OF THE ZINE! Merchandise is also available for purchase as standalone bundles.
Thank you for all your enthusiasm and support so far, we are so so excited to finally bring you this incredible project!!
Title: Ghostwatch
Chapter: 2 - Intermission
Rating: M
Ao3: Click here, remember to leave kudos!
Summary:Â Gabe, Jack and Ana plan their next episode, and employ the help of everyone's favorite cowboy.
Gabriel sat on the couch at Jackâs apartment, feet propped up on the coffee table and his laptop balanced on his knees. He worked on editing the Poltergeist House video while Ana and Jack bickered over the idea for the next episode. They were committed to posting a video a week, despite having jobs and classes to attend to. Sometimes, Gabe felt ran absolutely thin, but he loved his work. Filming and editing were two of Gabeâs passions.
He was thankful that he met the blond man from Indiana in one of his film courses. The guy stuck out like a sore thumb. Gabriel had figured he was a football player getting a creative arts credit in, but was pleasantly surprised when he found Jack was majoring in theater. He wasnât a prodigy by any means, but Jack had an air about him that just commanded the camera.
Ana was one of Jackâs best friends. Gabe was skeptic about how a finance major could be passionate about film (perhaps he bought into just a fewstereotypes), but Ana had a talent for special effects makeup, and never failed to impress him when they needed something bloody. She was the official co-host, and while not being as a commanding a presence as Jack, she gave as good as she got, and played one hell of a ghost.
He drummed his fingers on the touchpad of the laptop as the video processed. He felt good about the shots he managed to get, though this episode was strenuous to cut, edit and censor. He really needed to watch his copious use of the F-bomb in the moment. It only lead to more work later. It didnât help that there was a giant purple phallus on the wall (that was not there when they checked the house).
Gabe sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face as he looked over his shoulder at Jack and Ana. Jack was gesticulating wildly, talking about Mothman.
âJack, honey,â Ana said, her voice slow and pointed, like talking to a child. Gabe smirked. He knew Jack was in for it. âMothman is from Virginia. We are in Los Angeles.â
âSo?â Jack huffed, crossing his arms. He may as well have pouted his lip.
âSo, weâd get more flack than praise for a California Mothman,â Gabe said. âLet the Virginians have their bug dude. Youâre not fitting this ass in spandex.â
âFine, then whatâs your idea, huh?â Jack challenged.
Gabe stroked his goatee in thought, setting the laptop onto the coffee table. He got up to look at the idea board Jack had on the wall. It was covered in pictures, post-it notes, and push pins. Theyâd covered plenty of hauntings, alien encounters, the occasional cryptid.
âI donât want another episode where one of us is the monster just yet,â he said. He ran his fingers over the corkboard, stopping at one of the images tacked there. âHow about werewolves?â He pulled down the picture of a hulking, hairy beast.
Ana laughed, leaning back in her chair. âGabe, werewolves? How is that not one of us dressing up?â
âHear me out, pendejo,â he huffed. âThereâs been reports of bizarre animal attacks up in Big Bear. It could be a two-part episode. The viewers eat that shit up.â
Jack steepled his fingers, leaning forward on his elbows. âGo on,â he said, drawing out the âoâ sounds.
âSo, we take a trip up there. It gives me a chance to get some shots of the scenery and take a break from heavy editing,â Gabe said, going to sit with them around the kitchen table. âWe get some exposition. Plant some footsteps, or pawsteps, or whatever.â He waved his hand. âReally set the mood and shit. Then we end on a cliffhanger.â
Ana still looked skeptical, her brow knit in thought. âOkay, but who will be the werewolf in the second part? It would be odd if one of us disappeared after being there for the first half.â
âWe can get Jesse to do it. Heâd barely need any makeup,â Gabe said.
âMcCree? The guy that talks and dresses like heâs in a John Wayne film?â Jack asked incredulously. He leaned forward farther, encroaching on Gabeâs personal space. âThe guy who is still undeclared in our junior year?â
âCan you name a better werewolf, Jackie? Or are you volunteering?â Gabe asked, leaning forward to challenge Jack in his space.
Jack elevated his chin, keeping eye contact with Gabe. He grit his teeth. He knew that Gabe was right, but he didnât want to admit it. The editor drove him up a wall and challenged him at every corner. Sometimes he just wanted to punch that sly smirk off his face.
Gabe was relentless. He wanted Jack to know that just because he was gorgeous (come on, anyone with eyes could see that) and the head of the trio, he didnât get final say in everything. Gabriel had dealt with plenty of his kind. While he wasnât a jock, he was still that type of person that thought he could bat his stupid blue eyes and get people to conform to his will.
Ana sighed, rolling her eyes. âAre you two done posturing?â she asked, waving a hand in front of her nose. âIt reeks of testosterone in here.â
âOnce Jack stops being a diva,â Gabe said. He crossed his arms, eyes never leaving the blond.
âMe? A diva?â Jack said, clutching a hand over his heart. âIâm hurt, really.â
Gabe reached out and flicked Jackâs nose, making him scrunch up his face. The tension dissolved as quick as it arose.
They bickered more than she and Jack did. They were both so passionate and sure of themselves, it was natural for those energies to clash every so often. Ana loved how they could have a heated argument, then reset like nothing happened. Even if they were to beat the hell out of each other, theyâd end up laughing it off.
Jack grunted, crossed his arms, and leaned back in his chair. Gabe took it as a victory. He poked his tongue out at Jack, who flipped him off.
âSo, Jesse is our werewolf?â Ana asked.
âOn one condition,â Jack said.
Gabe quirked an eyebrow. âLet me guess. So long as he dresses up as a werewolf and climbs into bed with you?â
Jackâs face reddened. âN-No! Why would you say something like that?â he stammered. âI was going to say so long as we can use his van to drive up there!â
Ana pulled a disgusted face. âLet me get this straight. You had an issue with Jesse coming, but you have no issue climbing into the back of his van. His van that smells like stale Pabst, cheap cigars, and In-n-Out?â
Jack put his hands up, the blush on his cheeks slowly dissipating, âHey. If you want to use a ride service to get there, feel free. Sorry, Gabe, but your motorcycle and my shitty junker arenât going to cut it.â
âMaybe if you hadnât totaled your pickup,â Gabe grumbled under his breath.
âWhat was that?â
âNothing,â Gabe said. âWe leave for the forest this weekend, then.â
--
Getting Jesse on board was easy. Gabe showed up to his dorm room with a case of beer (carefully smuggled in) and a box of cigars. He knocked on the door. There was a clatter and a groan from the other side before the scruffy face of Jesse McCree peered out at him.
âOh, hey Gabe,â he drawled. He was shirtless and clad in boxers, his cowboy hat casting his face in shadow. His eyes immediately landed on the six pack tucked under the editorâs arm. âWhatcha need this time?â he asked, opening the door to reveal his room.
It never failed to make Gabe balk. The man lived in chaos. There were clothes, beer cans, and fast food detritus everywhere. Jesse clicked his tongue, taking the beer from Gabe.
âCâmon, now. You always look like yer about to implode every time ya stop by.â
âJesse, there is a pair of underwear on the ceiling fan.â
âOh, that there is,â Jesse said, snatching the boxers down and tossing them into the corner.
âWhat does your roommate think?â
âWho, Genji? Half this stuff is his,â Jesse said, kicking aside a pair of neon green boxers before plopping down on his bed. He pulled one of the cans from the plastic rings, cracking it open. He tipped the can toward Gabe. âSo, what can I do for ya?â
âWell, uhâŚwe need a werewolf for the shoot this weekend,â Gabe said, sitting beside Jesse, careful not to touch any of the stains on the sheets.
âWerewolf, huh?â Jesse stroked his beard, taking a long sip of the beer. âDunno if a six pack aâ Blue Moon is gonna cut it.â
Gabe sighed, taking the pack of cigars out of his pocket. He threw them into Jesseâs lap. The cowboy beamed, turning the pack over in one hand. âYou know me good, Reyes. You got yourselves a werewolf.â
âWe also need your van.â
âFigured. Wasnât no way Jack would have me along without my baby. How is Jackie boy doinâ, anyhow?â Jesse asked, watching Gabe out of the corner of his eye.
Gabe flexed his jaw and crossed his arms. âHeâs good. Still an asshole. Still stupidly good looking,â he said measuredly, unsure what Jesse was looking for.
âSooo...you tapped that yet?â
Gabe thought he might actually combust. His face heated and he tugged his beanie down over his ears, hiding their red sheen. He glared at Jesse, who was smiling around the rim of his can.
âFuck off,â Gabe snapped. âJack is just an asshole friend who happens to be hot, like you.â
Jesse raised his arms and shrugged his shoulders. âIâm flattered, doll. But if you donât, I will.â
Gabe snorted, rolling his eyes, âJack wouldnât touch you with a ten foot pole. It was hard enough convincing him to let you come.â
Jesse winked, crumpling the now empty can in one hand. âHe just ainât seen me lay on the charm.â
âHave at him, cowboy. I bet he shoots you down the first time you wink at him,â Gabe sneered.
âYou got a bet,â Jesse said, punching Gabe in the arm. Gabe smiled, but it didnât reach his eyes.
â
The back of Jesseâs van smelled like bad decisions. The white panel van was painted with a desert mural on one side, while the other had âItâs High Noonâ scrawled in towering font. The back of the van had shag carpeting that reeked, and the only seating was the front bench made of peeling red vinyl. Gabe was crammed in the back alongside Ana and their equipment. Jack was at the wheel, not trusting Jesse to get them there without a near-death experience. Jesse rode shotgun, not trusting Jack to drive his baby.
And, Gabe thought, to âlay on the charm.â
Jesse leaned close to Jack, talking in hushed tones. To Gabeâs surprise, Jack smiled and laughed.
âGabe, youâre brooding,â Ana said, resting a hand on Gabeâs shoulder. Gabe grit his teeth, prying his eyes away from Jesseâs courting. He looked at Ana, who had one eyebrow cocked at him.
He rolled his eyes. âWhat? I brood. Itâs what I do. When am I not brooding?â
âI can name a few instances,â she said.
Gabe held his tongue. He ran his hand across the dingy shag carpeting. He tried not to think of what was hiding in between the pieces of red fabric. He looked back at Ana. âHeâs winning the bet.â
âWhat bet?â
Gabe cast a glance at the duo, making sure they were too busy to pay them any attention. âI bet Jesse that Jack would turn him down as soon as he even tried any of that charm shit.â
Ana rolled her eyes. âNever make a bet with that man, Gabe. Heâs been gambling since he popped out of the womb.â
A sudden crooning came from the front seat. Jesse had his feet propped up on the dash, a cigar in his mouth and his head back. He belted out the lyrics to Hound Dog at the top of his lungs. Jack laughed along and tapped his fingers to the beat. Ana couldnât help but laugh. She clapped a hand over her mouth.
Shoot me, Gabriel mouthed. He fell back onto the carpet, the film equipment prodding into his back.
âJack, you better stop at the next scenic pull-off before Gabe melts into the shag,â Ana said over Jesseâs raucous singing.
Jack gave a thumbs-up in the rearview mirror.
When they came to a halt, Gabriel threw open the back doors, almost throwing himself over the side of the cliff that overlooked LA. He scowled at Jesse as he loped over to the edge. Gabe briefly debated pushing the cowboy off.
He decided murder wasnât something he was prepared to go to jail for and grabbed his camera from the back of the van instead. He toyed with some of the settings before turning it on and panning across the view. If they had had more time, he would have loved to do a timelapse.
Gabe shooed McCree out of the shots, since he was supposed to be their werewolf. He got a shot of Ana leaning over the rails, looking off into the distance while her hair blew in the wind. She turned toward the camera and smiled, as though she had been caught. It made Gabe grin from ear to ear.
He panned the camera to Jack. He looked like a Boy Scout troop leader. All blond hair and blue eyes and tanned skin. He sat on the rail with his legs dangled over the side. Gabe was afraid he might fall, but the blond man had a sure grip on the rail. He leaned back on his hands and tossed Gabe a look over his shoulder. It was a cocky grin, one he was used to when they were getting into trouble.
Ana pressed into Gabeâs side and craned her head to look at the digital image projected on the cameraâs screen. She smiled and pinched his side. âYour turn,â she said as she took the camera from him. Gabe shot her a glare, but didnât argue. He disliked being on camera, but couldnât object to making a cameo in some B-roll shots.
He leaned against the rails beside Jack. He took out a cigarette and lit it up. The smoke wraithed around his face and obscured his features. He smirked at the camera as he flicked his ashes toward Jack, who laughed and took a jab at Gabeâs shoulder. Careful not to send Jack sailing over the side, he grabbed the back of Jackâs shirt and gave him a tug. Jack lost his balance and tumbled back onto the ground. He glared up at Gabe, who was taking another drag from his cig.
Jack grabbed Gabeâs ankles and yanked them out from under him. Gabe landed on his ass with a momentous thump.
âSmoking kills!â Jack said between gasps of laughter.
âYea, and Iâll kill you after that!â Gabe said and flicked his cigarette to the side. He grappled with jack on the ground, getting him in a headlock. Jack bit his arm, not hard enough to draw blood, but enough to make Gabe wince. âHey, thatâs dirty!â he laughed, not relenting his grip.
âLike you fight clean,â Jack said through grit teeth.
âTell me in the best editor ever and Iâll let you go,â Gabe said, unaffected by Jackâs squirming.
Jack huffed, his hands in Gabeâs arms in an attempt to pry them off. His eyes flicked up to Ana, who was still rolling. He bit the inside of his cheek and grumbled.
âWhat was that, Jackie?â
âYouâre the best editorâŚâ Jack said louder.
âEver.â
âEver,â Jack sighed and rolled his eyes.
Gabe released Jack, earning a punch to his arm. Jack rubbed his neck and laughed through his nose. Gabe gave him a shit-eating grin and flipped him off.
Jesse leaned against the van, one leg propped up while he puffed on his cigar. He watched the two tussle with an easy grin. Jesse had competition, whether Gabe realized it or not.