Overall Indecent

a really smutty sideblog for overwatch and star wars nsfw. 18+ only. i have unconventional kinks. tagging is very relaxed so don't browse if you're easily triggered.

[pornowatch]

Oh! And also --

Dear Blizzard: since you no longer seem afraid of showing off them thicc thighs (good for you!), please revisit McCree’s Lifeguard skin and fix those scrawny ass chicken legs, thanks

love,

a concerned citizen

[pornowatch]

Okay, I’d have still preferred a skin of classic Gabe in beachwear, but given the political climate in the U.S. a part of me does appreciate the timing of Blizz releasing a skin for Reaper aka Gabriel Reyes, a man of Hispanic descent, and blatantly naming it “American”.

[elzariel]

Hazno FULL Quotes - Heroes of the Storm

I don’t even need to say anything. This man is like, wow.

[pornowatch]

5:35 is the only dialog I care about, and JFC I hope that’s canon.

[pornowatch]

I am so fucking sorry for the artists who contributed to the cowboy/samurai sadman zine as well as the folks who bought it. Seriously, that shit blows. But 

I

CANNOT stop laughing at the people defending the organizer who stole all that money by throwing out the idea that the whole thing is one giant smear campaign by reyes/mccree shippers trying to - I don’t know - sabotage the popularity of another ship? OMG I can’t even

[rnarccus]

Shirtless version of [this picture]   ✌️ 😎 

[pornowatch]

wake-me-up-before-i-jojo replied to your post “This trend of twats going around barraging queer content creators with...”

I don't think it (for the most part) has to do with people wanting to exclusively see straight ships. I think it's just a bunch of morons who are far too sensitive about everything, seeing all of this gay fanart and assuming that it's a fetishy thing.

Some context. This week a trans man I follow was sent hate for making art of a canon trans character, calling it “fetishist”. Another trans guy I follow in a different fandom, who’s writing is very popular because he does so well with in-depth and believable characterization, was asked why he fetishizes gay men. Recently a longtime friend left fandom altogether when she, a penis-repulsed rape survivor who used erotica as a means to try and reconnect with her sexuality, was called disgusting for only writing stories about lesbians. And since both the guys have that they are trans men on their descriptions right next to the ask button, I’m skeptical that this just isn’t our good ol’ friend homophobia dressed up as social activism.

We all know by now the hot new way to attack ships you don’t like is to take serious terminology and twist it to become a self-serving device used to shame fans of it (calling any age gap between two characters over 30 “pedophilia”, or contriving weakass reasons to cry “abusive relationship!” any time a couple has a disagreement). I see way more fake concern trolling being directed at creators of LGBT content than people who only write straight ships, and I’m sorry but I don’t think that’s a coincidence either. 

[pornowatch]

This trend of twats going around barraging queer content creators with accusations of fetishizing gays, lesbians, trans characters ect. in some twisted effort to guilt them into joining Camp Straight Ships Only is honestly just so typical of what I’ve come to expect from het fandom and a good reason why I never use or go into popular tags.

[segadores-y-soldados]

https://twitter.com/Autolikescake/status/928528808445014019

Bless the user Autolikescake for getting a wonderful answer from Jeff 😭👏💖

[coelasquid]

lookit those headcanons come truuuue

[pornowatch]

What are your thoughts on Hanzo?

At the risk of getting Hanzo fans’ chuffs in a huff--

I think the writing behind Hanzo is just... super weaksauce. The whole “broken soul looking for redemption” thing was pretty well covered by Soldier. And Ana. And McCree. And now Reinhardt a bit with that latest cinematic. Point is, I can choke down a tired trope in a variety of flavors, but I find Hanzo to be the least compelling member of Blizz’s Choir of Sad People™ and wish he’d take Widow up on her offer to join Talon because at least then he’d have something interesting going on in his story arc. I don’t hate him, he just doesn’t do anything for me. 

[pornowatch]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

In the spirit of the recent Dracula Reaper and Van Helsing McCree skins, here’s a link to one of my most favoritest drabbles of all time (non-porn category). 

[wedomorrison]

My boss called me on discord and he’s asking me Serious Work Questions but I’m nearly choking to death and he keeps asking me what’s wrong but I

how am I supposed to be professional when his icon is THIS

[krabat-art]

Desperado

♥Support me on Patreon♥

[koettboid]

Blackwatch - Reaper, Genji and McCree. 

Something I did during my stream. 

[marsoomata]

fareeha is getting an award and satya is there to support her gf..

[alksdjaslkfdalsk]

❤💀❤

[pornowatch]

I can’t stop thinking about how on no fewer than two separate occasions in his life, Jesse McCree had to commission a weapon from a gunsmith with the added request that it have a motherfucking SPUR on the grip. 

[pornowatch]

Valentine

Reyes finally gives in to McCree. 

In Blackwatch they’re called deathgrams.

All operatives are kitted out with the standard GPS beacons, but some take it a step farther. Internal monitoring equipment is not required - it can show up on invasive scans, which can be difficult to explain during undercover work.

But for some soldiers, when their heart stops, they want it to be known. Death triggers a virtual intelligence to initiate any number of protocols, everything from warning brothers-in-arms against rushing into danger to recover a mere corpse to remotely deleting sensitive information from datapads. Sometimes agents with families use it to send goodbye letters to loved ones.

Four days after McCree fails to meet his check-in Gabriel gets an automated message in his personal inbox.

Hey Boss.

Feel weird writing this. Always figured that anyone lucky enough to get me would get you to, but in case your still kicking around then I wanted to say sorry. I aint a fortune teller so I got no way of guessing what does me in, but I know your probably pissed as hell about it. do me a favor and make sure the asshole who got me gets his, alright?

I aint gonna let this get to heavy. It wouldnt be fair to unload all that on you since you cant exactly answer back. Point is, you know how I felt. I never said it outright, but I’m not any more subtle than you are stupid. And since regs don’t much matter now, I just wanted to let you know that I love you. Always did, always will. I could tell you cared about me too, so dont fret about me going to my grave without knowing it.

I never had much religion in me, but if there is an after Ill keep a seat open up at the bar for you. Just dont rush to get here.

-M

Gabriel reads it twice over. He commits the message to memory, complete with McCree’s lack of understanding of basic punctuation principles. The words, he keeps with him. The meaning, he’ll deal with later. Someday.

He purges the message from Overwatch’s server, then gets back to coordinating the recovery mission.

“You’re a son of a bitch,” Reyes grumbles at McCree’s bedside just a couple days later.

The cowboy is unconscious, pallid, and missing an arm. He might lose a leg too, but Zeigler is hoping to save it. But McCree is stable, and though his future with Overwatch is up in the air, he will live.

Oh, he’ll live. He’ll live to pay for putting me through that, a wayward voice in Gabriel’s head huffs. He’s so emotionally exhausted that even the relief of Jesse’s survival hasn’t fully hit him yet. Happiness will come later, after sleep.

The drill sergeant in Gabriel who usually stomps out thoughts like that instead lays off this time.

Less than two months. That’s all the time it takes before McCree is up and walking on his own legs, barely acquainted with the artificial arm prototype but already begging to get back to work. He’s got some healing to do yet and then has to be evaluated, but it’s looking to Reyes like he’ll be fine to return to Blackwatch. Angela really is a miracle worker.

“Say,” McCree starts slowly, and Gabriel has been waiting all day for this. McCree’s been helping out with clerical duties in his office (not without complaint of boredom, but still). Recently the cowboy’s been hung up, trying to talk about something uncomfortable but afraid to spit it out. “While I was MIA, you didn’t happen to, uh, get any weird messages?”

Reyes plays it cool. “Weird messages?”

“Hell, I only ask ‘cause I had one of them chips that kicks on when it don’t detect no life signs. Thing is, chip was in my arm. So, well, I found out that when the arm got taken off, the VI went ahead and sent off some… premature e-mails.”

Reyes sets his datapad down. This conversation has been a long time coming, yet he still doesn’t know how he wants to answer. If McCree wants to stay in Blackwatch then Gabriel has to not have seen the man’s dying declaration. He could lie, say the message never got through, and they can continue maintaining the indefinite holding pattern of “don’t ask, don’t tell”. He’d be saving both their careers from going down thanks to gossip and scandal at best, fraternization charges at worst.

On the other hand, he’d nearly lost Jesse.

“What’s the date?” Gabriel feigns completing some paperwork. McCree will understand. After a short pause the subject is allowed to drop.

“It’s the fourteenth, Boss.”

He feels himself frowning. February fourteenth. Valentine’s Day.

Gabriel Reyes was not a man who put much stock in signs from the universe, but even he had to admit it was one hell of a coincidence. Especially since they’d found McCree, busted up but still breathing, on Christmas Eve.

“Can you believe we’re finally doin’ this?” Jesse asks in a hoarse whisper, eyes drifting blissfully closed while Gabriel kisses down the curve of his shoulder.

The commander chuckles against Jesse’s skin. He’d said finally. Not “actually” or “really”, but finally - like it was inevitable that they end up half-undressed and rubbing cocks like horny teenagers. And shit, maybe it was inevitable. In nine years while everyone else in his life had broken his trust, Jesse was the only one determined to be at Gabriel’s side. He was the only one Gabriel couldn’t afford to lose.

He rolls his hips, pinning Jesse down to the couch. Every repressed fantasy about bending McCree over his desk, all the nights spent with his hand down his sweatpants, thinking of his second’s pouting lips have nothing on the real thing. Gabriel meets Jesse’s upward bucking in time, and they’re both too damn hard to do anything but hang on for dear life.

“Say you’re mine,” Gabriel moans, throat dry and completely, utterly heedless of it.

“Yours, darlin’. You got me. Always did.”

He says it like a promise, and in their clumsy rutting Jesse pulls Gabriel to him. He seals it with a kiss that tastes like bitter cigar smoke.

For the first time in decades, Gabriel gives himself over to it.