Callout Post

@worldsbestdoc

This bitch just used the word “gotted” in a sentence aloud.

A master linguist, indeed.

@worldsbestdoc

     “Well, would’ya look’t that—” The brunette cupped his hat in his hands, tossing it from one side to another as he examined a fairly sizable hole that was burned through the dome during his last firefight. “—guess someone ain’t take a likin’ to the wardrobe. That’s a damn shame...”

     The gunslinger insisted he was fine, but after receiving the usual backlash from Reyes, he ended up in the infirmary, waiting at the front desk for someone —anyone — to come check him in.

     “Hey! Y’all got anybody workin’ t’day? The hell’s goin’ on back there?” he called down the hall, leaning over the desk to peer into the corridor. “You—!” The cowboy pointed to a courtly blond crossing the hall, still aggressively leaning over the counter. “Do me a favor, Darlin’; jus’ grab the doctor for me, would’ya? I jus’ need some release papers signed ‘n I’ll be outta yer hair.”

@worldsbestdoc sorry for the wait

@countrywestern:

@worldsbestdoc

     I don’t even know where to start with this bae to be honest. I guess first and foremost, I just want to say that I miss you and wish you the best with your studies! I know we still talk ( kinda ) regularly, ( and this is going to sound kinda selfish for a second, mind ya business ) but I can’t wait until you get back onto a normal-ish schedule that’ll give you more time to write / spew McMercy headcanons with me and won’t have you surviving off of energy drinks uwu I love you and your Mercy and still think your portrayal is A1!

@worldsbestdoc // continued

If she wants something done right she has to do it herself.

She returned from her lunch break to find a poor excuse for a lab tech arranging the many beakers, tubes and other glassware in an unsatisfactory manner. Nothing was where it was before, everything was twisted out of their perfect angle. And to make matters worse, the lab tech didn't even ask her before performing the UNFORGIVABLE task.

Needless to say the tech in question received quite the earful of angry gaelic laced english as she rearranged the improperly placed glassware. Somewhere along the way while Moira muttered in her native tongue Angela had returned early from her own lunch, approaching the redhead with a sweet smile.

She needed her? In her office? It was an undeniable request, even in her disgruntled state. She forced a smile in return, "I was just finishing up." She states, following the other promptly through the halls and into the secluded room.

Moira's smile transitioned into a sly grin, the reality that Angela could actually NEED her for something setting in nicely as she shuts the door behind her with a click. She runs a lithe hand through her hair as she turns around to face the blonde, who is still smiling just as sweetly.

"What can I do for you, Angela?" She asks, straightening her tie. Was it to discuss a project? A patient? Her mind boggled, racking tucked away files for what it could possibly be that she required Moira.

Angela in D2?

Send me a character and expressions and I’ll draw them!

//ahh these are so fun thanks for requesting~

💀

Send 💀 to walk in on my muse killing someone.

Business was business and as messy as it was it had to be done.

Ashe reached up and wiped the sweat off her forehead, following a trail of blood that almost blended in with the red clay dirt of the gorge. Within ten minutes and a good breeze, the liquid would be dried and mingled with the dust, any proof of life blown away and forgotten. It was pretty similar to all the nameless gang members that grouped together in little factions on her turf in an attempt to overthrow everything she’d build and busted her ass over.

It was pretty cute but also pretty annoying

. She could have let this one go. He was a lower ranked gang member, just some young squid who didn’t know better. The kid probably thought being in a gang was fun and exciting but never fully grasped every aspect of it. It was partly Ashe’s fault for that considering as soon as this group made a name for themselves Deadlock had “cleared” quite a few of them out. Through all the ruckus Ashe noticed this young kid run out the back. She wondered if he had any idea he was the only survivor of the whole ordeal?

Well, not for long.

Ashe had found him huddled in an abandoned building and had the perfect opportunity to take him out. Deep down she felt bad about having to do this to the kid especially since he reminded her of the triplets when they first joined Deadlock but he was also a liability. This kid would spill his guts to anyone and sell Ashe out for any kind of protection from her and that was too much of a risk. With the viper aimed through a busted out window, the wind picked up a loose piece of metal on the side of the building and it came crashing down with a clang! which caused the young kid to jump just as she pulled the trigger. The only thing powering the boy had to be pure adrenaline and fear but Ashe knew eventually he’d noticed the bullet wedged in his lower leg.“Please--”Ashe finally found him curled up in an abandoned shed, trying to hold the seeping wound as if maybe just a little bit more pressure would coax it to stop. Bleeding out was a strong possibility for him but she didn’t have the time to wait on it. With a small shake of her head, she reached in one of her pouches, pulling out a bullet to load into the rifle. The small clicks said enough and the kid started to panic.“Listen! I won’t tell! I promise! Y’don’t gotta’ do this Ashe please--!”“Stop.”The gang leader let out a sigh, tilting her head up just enough that her eyes were visible under the wide brim of her hat. She lifted her weapon, staring straight down the sights. She wasn’t going to miss this time.“Yer makin’ this way too hard fer me.”The shot echoed in the little shed and left a ringing in her ears, the hot air was dry with dust and a smell of copper. Red liquid had trailed down far enough to come in contact with her boot and despite her shifting it out of the way it still clung to the material, starting to coagulate. The deed was done, or at least so she thought. Ashe turned around, the wave of relief that washed over her after a job well done was whisked away when she saw she’d been caught by someone like Angela no less. How much of this had she’d seen? Her mouth felt dry as she tried to find words to explain what had gone on.“Uh--...”

“take your time. slow, slow. you’re doing great.”

Hospital Starters || accepting

Fists wrapped tight around the bars that now held her weight as useless legs dragged along in a mockery of what could be called walking. Still, it was more progress than she had made in weeks since the accident with the transport that left both legs nearly crushed and lungs weakened by toxic smoke. There was hope, she supposed, to be back out in the field once again, but Lena was quickly beginning to realize the gargantuan task ahead of her.

One step, two step.

Already feeling the weakness settling in, she forced herself down to the end of the poles. Air wheezed in and out of her as she paused, taking more and more weight off her legs and onto her forearms.

After her pause, she turned to make her way back down the bars but before she could make it another step, her forearms gave out and Lena landed in a crumpled heap on the ground. A sharp groan of pain echoed from the heap of limbs and a narrow torso. Everything hurt and this didn’t help.

There was no perky attitude, no smiles, just raw desolation on her face. “This is pointless.”

“You did your best, and that’s all you can do.”

it’s terrifying to sit in an unknown laboratory, forced to lie down and have her body manipulated by clever hands that would promise to feed her, to take care of her after talon’s wrongdoings. angela ziegler, no matter how many times she promises that things will be alright, is only a fool for thinking that she alone can reverse what has been done, to save her from the red-headed doctor’s cruelty. 

lacroix feels nothing as angela inserts a needle under her skin, insisting on painkillers when they are unneeded. pain was something that lacroix had been so desensitized to over her seven-month period of captivity, but she’s reminded by the shade of her doctor’s voice in her head that she must act, she must put on a show if she is to fool her enemies. 

“ange..” lacroix’s voice is hollow, hoarse from the days of screaming and begging for relief, for sanctuary -- 

her breath is shaky and raw. who knows how much longer she’ll have to stay here under careful inspection? the thought of staying here any longer has her quivering, carefully masked to look like fear of being lost again. 

                                                                         “..i appreciate it.”

Hi yes hello your portrayal is so nice and pleasant and warm. Have I told you this? Prolly but idc your McCree is so very good and wholesome and I love him. 10/10 five stars.

From the vALIDATE ME Beep beep, how’s my portrayal? meme!

Okay but consider; its always nice to hear it again. Pleasant and warm is the vibe I really love running with when it comes to my Jesse (as you damn well know) - I need to shove him into more situations where his sharp and ugly bits stick out more, considering they definitely exist. But also; wholesome dumb cowboy fun is amazing to write. I’m glad you’ve stuck around this long to find out! ;w;

🌟& ✨

🌟: Do they have any places they want to go before they die? For what reasons do they want to go there?

Not anymore, not really. Gabriel’s always been fond of traveling, that was one of the more pleasant sides of joining the army, and he’s seen a lot of places in the world that he used to think would be impossible to see. But he’s also seen some bad shit there, so it’s not all happy holidays. He does want to go back to LA every once in a while-

Actually, he would love to see where Jack grew up. But that’s an old, dead wish that he doesn’t think has any place in his life anymore.

✨: What motivates them? Is it a deep rooted passion/motivation, or is it something they struggle with from time to time?

Revenge, definitely. Not particularly on Overwatch, though some of it definitely plays its part in his plans. He wants the people who are really responsible to be brought to justice, preferably by him - and preferably with a gun to the forehead. Past that, he always has a hunger for information, so that is a big internal motivation as well. Not wanting to lose. He’s too goddamn stubborn to give in so he’s going to damn well keep going.

‘  waddup i’m [angie], i’m nineteen, and i never fucking learned how to read  ’

@worldsbestdoc || VERY SERIOUS RIP VINE SENTENCE STARTERS

          “ — I think this is why they say it’s unhealthy t’drink alone.”

     He couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped his lips. “Darlin’, if ya made it this far without knowin’ how t’read, that’s both impressive an’ scary.”

The Warren is quiet, for once.

The witches are at work, the kids are at school. Your in-laws are off being lovey-dovey and gross somewhere else. Even Rae and most of the demons are gone, given a spur of the moment day off to go spend however they pleased.

Aside from your youngest cubs, your butler (he refused to leave you) and a handful of skeletons (they had nothing better to do, honestly), you’re very much alone.

Perfect.

You’ve been up since very early this morning putting together the absolute best valentine’s day surprise anyone has ever seen. You’ve even gone so far as to make a detailed schedule of everything as well as several contingency plans in case something goes wrong. Hopefully nothing goes wrong. First on your list is a gentle prerequisite, a taste of the opulence to come, gift baskets. Small ones, for both your romantic partners and quite a few palentines, why should only your polycule be spoiled today?

They’re shipped out around noon, leaving you about fifteen or so minutes for a small break that is spent caffinating and feeding your toddlers. They’re thankfully well behaved today, and you shoot several prayers to several deities of parenthood that they stay that way. Hopefully they listen. By three p.m. you manage to get them all down for a nap and take a little time to have one yourself before the sun starts to dip low and you run off to get ready.

You shower for the third time today and throw on some clean clothes. Nothing fancy really, just some beat up overalls, long mismatched socks, and an oversized sweater underneath. You actually wear shoes today too, just some old boots better suited for snow than where you’re going. You gather several things that you’ve spent the day preparing and teleport to your castle in Wonderland. There, everything is going quite smoothly. The Royal Guard is dressed in their finest, swords sheathed at their sides. They bow to you as you approach, some stifling snickers. They’re excited, moreso than you. Though you don’t expect anything as dramatic as an attack on your castle and your guests, it’s better to be safe than sorry. Hence the presence of your guard.

With hours to spare, you put the finishing touches on your surprise. The final detail of which is a text to every member of your polycule

[txt @polycule]: meet me in wonderland @5 p.m. for a special surprise 🌹 💋 🌙 💙 🔪

[txt @ polycule]: …ignore that knife

When the members of your polycule arrive, they are to be greeted like royalty by your guard and escorted to the main hall where you will greet them properly with kisses and hugs and gooey things of that nature. After that, they are to be pampered. You have spared no expense tonight, and have hired masseuses, manicurists, and the best chef, all from Underland. Queen Diamour’s gift to you, on this most auspicious of days. There is a feast to be had, courses upon courses of the best you have to offer. Wild meats, fruits, and foraged things. Champagne made from dandelions, and hunks of raw honeycomb. Marrow bones, and stew made from sea life. Desserts that defy description, and drinks that do the same. There are flying pies, singing soups, and something like a fallen star on a plate.

Music plays in the dining room, a love song in a bottle that you bought from a strange bat. The tune is carried on a spring breeze, sung in a language long dead but somehow still understandable. A song on a warm breeze that smells of roses and wild places, honey and feral things. The love of a wild thing with fleet paws and a steadfast heart. You wrote these lyrics yourself, they tell the story of an impulsive rabbit and his wish to be happy and free. He finds his happiness in the arms of his loved ones, and solace in their eyes. Every hurt he suffers is a blow lessened by their support. You sing along with the wind, even though you aren’t much of a singer. The breeze-song is an experience for the senses, an emotion given form, it compliments the dinner better than any wine.

With dinner over and the sun long set, the castle is lit by the gentle glow of a hundred floating candles in simple glass orbs. You lead your procession of guests down into the rough-hewn caves just below the castle. The air is a little chilly here, but quickly grows warmer as you reach the hot springs. Several bubbling pools of hot, mineral rich water, once again lit by candlelight. You offer your beloveds privacy screens and let them soak at their leisure. You really ought to join them but this is for them, not you and you don’t want to risk falling asleep while partially submerged. Instead you wait on them hand and foot, bringing glasses of drink and bites of this or that to whomever may need it. Your castle is theirs for the night if they wish it, there are more than enough beds for everyone to sleep over, but as busy as everyone is you highly doubt anyone will take you up on that offer. But you can dream. You can dream.

@worldsbestdoc ❤'d for a starter

You're late, covered in wet snow that's somehow managed to get into your hood and down your neck. Shivering, slipping, you make it to Angela's apartment with gift in hand, nevermind the fucking frost clinging to your eyebrows.

You're very sure you look ridiculous, but at this point you're just happy to be inside. You probably could have saved yourself the trouble and teleported directly into Angela's placs, but it always feels so rude to do so. Like you're bound to see something you shouldn't.

You knock on her door and wait, quickly shaking off some of the snow you're caked in before she has time to answer. Hopefully she has a towel you can borrow...

“ try harder ”

Angela always knew how to make her ache and beg. Denying her an orgasm always did the trick, luring pleads out of her lips as effortlessly as oxygen flows, desperate pants and whimpers cradling her words.

"Ah-! Angela! Please, please, I-" her hips jolt uncontrollably, a vicious moan of ecstacy wreching through her strained vocal coards without permission.

Angela would surely make her pay for it.

"Fuck! I didn't mean to- p-please forgive me," her breaths are hard, struggling for air as her body quakes with aftershocks.

[ retrieve ]  your muse requesting or ordering mine to retrieve them something .

Non-sexual acts of dominance 

Wasn’t it a doctors job to work for people? That’s why they went to school right? To be helpful? Ashe has a skewed idea of people who should work for her given her status and a doctor seemed to be one of those people. 

The gunslinger wasn’t usually this rude but she also didn’t want to be on a mission with all of these people she didn’t really know. She did feel a little obligated since any one of them could turn her into the police.“Hey, doc, hand me that.”She snapped her fingers and feverishly pointed toward a bottle half full with dark amber liquid, presumably alcohol. “I’m gonna’ need to be drunk dealin’ with all these idiots.”