#he was turned into a bird that's all the info I have. for anythin else I recommend reading the fic

[bonicedemandarina]

My piece for the @infinitytrainbigbang !!!!

I really missed drawing my guy Ryan, also I wanted to do that thing where there's like a comic or something going on in the frame(?) Of the drawing bc I saw it on pinterest once and thought it looked cool

[lu-undy]

Un-alone, Chapter 9

Here it is!

“Y’like following rugby, son? I can probably find a channel with it…” 

Philip was switching from channel to channel on the remote.

“I like it but not as much as Dad. I’m ok if you wanna watch somethin’ else, eh.”

“Ah, well… Oh, look, that’s the stuff I’m sure your mum would like, heh.”

Mundy and his uncle were on the sofa with a beer. 

“Oh yeah, she follows a show like that back home. Y’know the kind where it’s all about drama and all…?”

“Yeah, good thing she’s asleep or she’d have started to follow this one, eh?”

Both chuckled between two sips on their fresh beverage. 

“Oh by the way, I wanted to thank you, Micky.”

“What for?” Mundy’s head swung to his uncle. 

“It’s nice to have someone help me with the physio exercises. It gets borin’ when I’m on my own. I feel like it’s goin’ better since you’re here.”

“Oh, well, you’re welcome, it’s not much, eh?”

“Still, makes a difference to me. Thanks, Micky.”

Mundy nodded to his uncle with a smile.

“Mum got tired today, eh?”

“Y’know your mum, restless she is.”

“Yeah…”

“What did you two get to in town this mornin’?” Phil asked and drank a bit more of his beer.

“Ah, uh, Mum wanted to check the big mall she’d seen when she arrived. And we saw it was market day so I drove her there too. Allowed me to have a drive around with the van, get her used to American asphalt, eh?”

“I bet you’re more used to drivin’ in the desert, right?”

“Yeah, that’s true.”

“Your mum’s been tellin’ me a lot about your job.”

Mundy’s head swooshed to his uncle.

A half surprised, half apprehensive “Oh…” slipped out of his lips. He averted his eyes.

“Apparently you’re real good… I’m proud, son.”

Mundy’s eyes snapped wide. 

“Oh, uh, I mean… Thanks.”

“She even said you worked for the police and all. Y’know, it’s hard for us to admit we’re not big enough for the job and go get help from the outside. You should be proud.”

Mundy nodded but kept his head lowered. 

“I’m serious, Micky. I know your parents won’t tell you, but I’m sure at least part of them are proud of you too.”

Mundy blushed and in the dimness of the evening, it was invisible to his uncle.

“I’ve uh…” Philip resumed. “I’ve called back at work.”

“Oh, is there a problem?”

“Nah, I just wanted to know what kind of job they gave you.”

Mundy’s eyebrows jumped.

“You could’ve just asked me.”

“You’d never have answered, Micky.”

“Yeah, well…”

They exchanged a smile.

“So they told you?” Mundy asked.

“They didn’t. They said it was sensitive info.” 

“Ah…” Mundy scratched the back of his neck. 

“Real proud I am, son. If they call you for stuff like that, then you’re really somethin’!” He gently punched Mundy’s shoulder and the young man chuckled out of nervousness. “C’mon!”

“You told Mum?”

“Nah, I didn’t. She’d worry and make your dad worry with her. But I wanted to chat with you about it. They said they called you in because you’re a brilliant hunter.”

“Y-yeah, I guess.”

“C’mon, quit the modesty, son! You’re amazin’ with a rifle, and talking about your mum, I wanted to ask you somethin’.”

“Yeah?”

“She told me a few things about your work.”

Mundy sighed. He knew it would come, his uncle being proud was too good to be true.

“She’s worried, isn’t she?” He made the call himself.

“Yeah. She’s worried cause-”

“I know, I’m gonna get at the wrong end of a gun one day, I know... “

“Nah, Micky. Not that.”

“What?” Mundy raised a curious eyebrow.

“I mean, yeah, your job’s dangerous and all. But there’s stuff she doesn’t really get about you, you know…?”

“What?” Mundy repeated, oblivious as to where his uncle was going.

“Listen,” Phil lowered the volume on the TV. He looked left and right, as if to make sure that his sister wouldn’t appear out of nowhere. “Your mum’s… not really worried but uh… let’s say curious.”

“About what? Is it about the long trips out with the van?”

“A bit… I mean… Is it for work?”

“Sometimes, yeah. Hunting stuff sometimes takes days, even weeks. But if I know I’m gonna be away for a long time, I sometimes make the trip back home, for Mum and Dad to not get anxious or anything.”

“Why not just tell them straight up that you have to be away for work?”

“Because they don’t like my job.”

“So what? You prefer to go and not say anythin’?”

“Better than pick up another fight with them.” Mundy said. “I’m just tired of it.”

“Of your job?”

“Nah, I love my job. I’m tired with them not likin’ it. I get it, it’s dangerous and I get bruised sometimes. Beasts are rough but… It’s the only thing I know how to do and I love doin’ it. It’s challengin’ work, outdoors. You see beautiful species, get to work with them and all. Beautiful beasts out there in Oz, you know?”

“Look at you… All dreamy eyes and lazy smile.”

Both chuckled. One out of shame in front of his uncle. 

“You really like it, it’s awesome.You looked like you were talkin’ about some girl there.”

“Yea-I guess.” Mundy looked away.

“Hey, now, c’mon, it’s alright, don’t go all red and all, eh?”

“Yeah, well…” The nephew scratched the back of his neck nervously.

“Y’know, I fancied a lot of girls back in my days.” Philip started, hoping that Mundy would yield and tell him more about himself. “They looked nice and all but… In all my time, y’know, I was like you now, all red in the face and didn’t really get what they wanted.”

Mundy nodded politely, still uncomfortable.

“But now look at me… Never really managed to talk to them or anything. See, there were a few that were really good.” Philip stared in front of him and Mundy could see that this uncle saw these women in his living-room, as if they were really there. “Oh, they were something, really, and I remember my mum bein’ pushy with me and all…” He shook his head. “Got me in the same state as you are now.” Phil finally made eye-contact with his nephew. 

“Hm.”

Philip waited, hoping for Mundy to open up, but to no avail. When the silence became more than awkward, with the low volume on the TV not enough to distract them back to the screen, Phil broke it. 

“So, uh… You got anybody?”

“You mean…?”

“Yeah, a girl.”

“N-nah, I don’t.”

There was a pause. 

“Anyone in sight?” Phil asked.

“L-look, I’ll uh, I’ll go to bed. It’s late.” 

And as furtive as the wind, Mundy went to the guest room and closed the door before sliding between the sheets. 

His eyes stayed open and his heart was beating faster than he had let it on. Thank God people couldn’t feel the heat rise on his body, or sense his discomfort. If he had been facing beasts, it would have been a completely different story…

Mundy closed his eyes but his brow was still furrowed. 

Ha. It would have happened sooner or later. “The talk”.

Not the teenager edition of it though, no. The grown up one. The “you’re forty, where are my grandkids” one. 

The truth was that Mundy had had that argument - not really a discussion at this point - with his father. It was a few years back, he was alone with him, collecting the eggs around the garden on an early morning, giving Caroline a few extra hours of sleep. 

“So, son… What about sheilas?”

Mundy’s eyebrows twitched but he kept focused on the task at hand.

“Got anyone you wanna introduce to us?” His father Mike insisted. 

“N-nah, not really.”

“Oh… I know we never really talked about it but uh… It’d be nice if you found someone, get yourself a nice sheila and all… Maybe kids?”

Mundy stopped sharp as he was bending down to grab some eggs. 

“Have you thought about it?”

“N-nah.”

“I know that findin’ a good sheila these days is pretty hard but uh… I’m sure there are some left. If you’re a good boy, then there must be a good sheila for you!”

Mundy was red on the cheeks. He looked away.

“Son? Hey…”

Mike put a hand on his son’s shoulder to turn him around and face him. 

“What is it?”

Mundy raised his eyes to him, he looked and wished he could tell him more. Well, there’s a few things he could tell…

“I uh… They’re complicated.”

“Ho, yeah, they are…!” Mike chuckled and nodded. “When I first met your mum, she was a puzzle and a half to me!”

Mundy smiled. That wasn’t exactly what he had meant but as long as his father got an answer that he deemed satisfactory, then he wouldn’t talk about any of that for a while. He wasn’t proud of it, but that had always been Mundy’s strategy, buying time. Until what? God only knew. One thing was for sure, the Aussie couldn’t tell the truth to his parents. They would never understand and it was hard enough to impose his job on them. He didn’t have the strength and patience to try to impose anything else. 

And what was the truth in the end?

Well, to put it simply, Mundy had had a few adventures, here and there, a few girls.

The last one was years ago. Julia she was called. Outgoing, funny, and quite pretty she was. They had met in a pub and of course, she had taken the first step to him, as he went to get a pint after his little performance with the sax. 

They had joked and laughed and spent quite a nice evening, all the way till the pub was closing. They found themselves outside, the cold air of the deep night hitting their skin in the most pleasant way after simmering in the hot pub for hours. 

"Can you give me a ride home?" She had asked. 

"Uh, sure. Me van's right there." Mundy carried his saxophone case in one hand and pointed to his van as they both approached it. 

"Wow, that's cool…! Livin' on the roads, huh?" 

"Sometimes." 

"Free as a bird." 

They exchanged a look and a smile as Mundy unlocked it. 

"I'll just put the sax back, gimme a sec."

"Oh, uh, can I see what it looks like inside?" 

He had blushed. 

"Uh, I-I didn't tidy it up or anything. The place is a downright mess right now…"

"Please, c'mon, just to see how you fit in there." She joked. 

"What?" 

"You're so tall, I'm sure you have to bend down once you're in!"

They chuckled. 

"Nah, I don't."

"I don't believe you…" She teased and Mundy sighed. "Right, right, come and have a look then…" 

He opened the backdoor and jumped in. He put the saxophone away and as he turned back to Julia, she also had slipped in. 

"See how - oh… Uh… I mean…" Mundy was confused. She could have asked before entering and why was she closing the door now? "Julia? Uh… Oh…"

She had walked to him, in the dark, and pushed herself against him. Lacing her hand around his neck, she had pushed herself to the tip of her toes to reach him. She pushed her lips against his and Mundy's eyes snapped wide. 

Julia let her hands slowly trail on his polo shirt, while Mundy was petrified, a billion questions fusing in his head. 

She pushed him gently until his back was against the ladder leading to his bunk bed. That's when she slid her hands under his shirt and started to feel his bare skin, his stomach, soft, but not too much, his lean chest and his ribs making his skin wave right above them. Hairs on the chest and a trail down his stomach until her fingers bumped on his trousers and belt. 

Mundy didn't know how to react, what to say, so he let it happen. 

She unbuckled the belt and lost no time. Julia pushed them down, along with his boxer shorts and started pawing at his hips before her hands slid behind. Small but soft, and it all fit in her hands. He felt her smile against his lips. He closed his eyes and frowned. 

"C'mon, get up there…" She said, as if she had owned the place, and afraid as he was, Mundy obeyed. 

He wasn't scared of Julia herself. He wasn't scared of what she would do to him. Nah, of course not. He was scared of his own body and its reactions. 

Or rather, the lack thereof. 

When both were on the bed, Mundy started feeling Julia's hot and naked skin against his. He screwed his eyes shut and tried to imagine what he needed. 

She went down on him, taking a taste of every bit she pleased until her head was between Mundy's thighs. 

"Oh…"

She took it for a moan, but it was only surprise. That sheila was losing no bloody time. 

She worked on him and Mundy tried. He waved his hips in rhythm, shutting his eyes and curling up his toes, holding his breath. His efforts got him sweating and more embarrassed by the minute. 

At some point of course, she stopped. Not because she didn't want to proceed, but because Mundy's body wasn't reacting at all. He wasn't moaning, he wasn't relaxing, he wasn't enjoying himself. 

"Is there a problem?" 

Her voice made Mundy's eyes snap open in a fraction of a second. He felt ashamed, embarrassed beyond what words could describe. God damn it! Even drunk he couldn't fake it! Even trying to picture someone else in her stead he couldn't get his body to warm up to the idea?! 

"N-nah, I mean…"

"Don't lie to me, Mundy. It's been a long while of me ignoring it but I can't do anythin' to you.  You don't like it or what?" 

"No, nah, I do like it, it's just… uh…"

"So it's me? You don't like me? You find me ugly or somethin'?" 

Mundy's eyes had adjusted to the dark and he could see Julia's naked silhouette. All the curves were where a man would dream them to be. 

"No, you look fine - I mean, you look great…"

"Look, just be honest with me or I can just leave and get back home." 

She waited and Mundy's brain was running faster than a hamster in a wheel. 

"Uh - I mean…. Uhm…" 

He tried to find a way to say the words but his mouth was petrified, his skull was pressing hard on his brain and his vision had tunnelled to her eyes. 

"M'sorry…" He said and looked away. 

"Fuck's sake…" She sighed and got down his bed before dressing up hastily and leaving, slamming the door shut on her way out. 

Mundy was left as he was right now: on his bed alone, thinking about himself. 

Bloody hell. 

He had tried everything with sheilas, nothing had worked. He had tried to go for tomboys, for the most masculine of them all, trying to convince himself that they were his style but no. As close to a man as he found them, they were never a man. 

The Aussie turned in his bed and now faced the wall, in his uncle's guest room. 

He had tried very hard, for his parents, for himself. He had tried cheap magazines with all kinds of girls, he had let his friends set him up with women they thought would suit him. 

It was always the same. The same bloody curse. 

Chatting was fine. More than that? He didn't feel like it. 

He had stopped seeing his friends. He had run out of excuses to give them as to why the girls they sent him didn't suit him. They had stopped looking for him too, they just thought he was atrociously picky and naturally, the distance grew between those people that Mundy once used to call “mates”. 

Between his parents not liking his job one bit and his friends not understanding him either, Mundy found himself alone. At times, he wished it was different but most of the time, he lived perfectly in his little bubble. 

It was only when people challenged his bubble, came a bit too close with a needle and poked, that he retracted within himself, like a snail to his shell. 

Thinking about that night with Julia again, he felt it all come back to him. The indescribable shame, the look she had given him of disappointment, frustration, and the fact that he had led her to think that she could have more fun time with him, a lie? Nah, he had never dropped any, uh, hints, or anything to make her believe that he wanted her on his bed and between his legs, fiddling with his intimacy, in vain. 

Mundy could hardly face the truth himself. 

On the occasion of his body asking him to take care of his needs, he would close his eyes and imagine a tone and lean body, soft skin of any color, he couldn’t care less. The only thing he asked of that image, was that it was of a… male body. No feminine curves, no tiny waist for large hips. Mundy liked a bit of hair on his model, on the chest, on his forearms, his thighs and of course, in between them. 

He fantasised vividly about the lean silhouette slowly peeling his clothes off of himself, the fabrics gently sliding down like the petals of a flower that opens to reveal all its colours. Oh Gosh, the shoulders, slightly smaller than his own, a thin waist, the V-line on the hips that slipped under his trousers… Bloody hell.

Mundy closed his eyes. 

The silhouette turned to give him his back and he heard the metallic click of a belt being unbuckled, before he saw the trousers follow the thin legs all the way down to the floor in front of him. As he raised his eyes again, he saw that the underwear had been pushed down too and his gaze met with what had some effect on his body. 

Mundy bit his lip. 

In his mind, he extended his hands and touched, just a graze of the tip of his calloused fingers on the man’s backside before he cupped it and squeezed. Mmh, soft, yet one could feel the underlying muscle. He pulled him closer and the silhouette turned to face him. Bloody hell, what a sight… 

Mundy went on in his dream and fell asleep. 

A thought had always stood at the back of his mind, whenever he imagined what his body wanted. He had never imagined the face, never imagined anything that could make that person special or recognisable. And it was crucial that it stayed that way. Mundy didn’t want to imagine anything specific. 

It could be anyone, he could be him, he could be that one, it could even be...

[caspercryptid]

Where’s the fun in playing fair?

Date Night for @aughtpunk and @wyntera‘s mchanzo week!

I....accidentally made this hinge on Symbra. woops. 

Growing up, Hanzo had become aware of the principle of “Murphy’s Law” around the same time that he’d learned English, through the meetings his father had with western businessmen. Sojiro had never put much stock in the idea- planning scrupulously around every possible detail so that everything was accounted for- and so, when he was younger, Hanzo hadn’t either.

Now he was older, and wiser, and soaked to the bone on his fifth anniversary. He knew better.

“You see anythin’, pumpkin?”

Hanzo fired dead ahead of him, not even bothering to seek cover. The radar showed nothing, just as it had the first 6 times.

“No.” He spat.

McCree hummed into the com, and Hanzo heard the ping of it switching to a private line.

“Hon, I’m sorry, but the intel was bullshit.”

“I’m aware.”

“No, but really. I just got a message from Sombra.”

That got Hanzo’s attention.

“What? If she set this up I’m going to-”

“No! No sugar, surprisingly. She told me Vishkar wanted to draw us all out and then send some droids to base-”

“-What!”

“-and she deactivated all of them.”

Hanzo stopped, midway through switching channels, and pulled his hand away from his ear again.

“She- what? Why?”

“Said it was a favor to someone else. She’s passin’ on the info out of the goodness of her heart- supposedly- along with a really nice e-card of some flyin’ birds holding roses and a ‘happy anniversary’ sign.”

Hanzo let out a soft snort. He had never been quite sure where they stood with the hacker. She’d helped McCree out of a tight spot on a few occasions, and Hanzo frequently received candids of the cowboy when they were apart on mission from an anonymous source, even through Athena’s secure servers.

Any other day, he’d advise caution. But screw it, he was willing to take some goodwill today. “Should we tell the others?”

“I passed the messages along to Winston to let him decide, and I told him that you and me were going to check out the droids.”

Hanzo raised an eyebrow.

“We are?”

“Hop down, honey.”

Hanzo looked down across the balcony. In the rain a floor below was his cowboy- smiling face upturned. He lifted his arms, and Hanzo sighed.

He scaled to McCree’s reach before he obliged and let his cowboy lift him to the ground. McCree kept an arm around Hanzo’s waist as they headed down the street.

“Sombra told me where she dropped the droids, and apparently there’s a nice little cafe- ah. There we are.”

The area was cordoned off, the metal husks of no less than 15 flying torrents crashed along the street.  Police officers were standing over them, drawing chalk lines and assessing concrete damage. Jesse whistled.

“Musta been pretty damn high up.” He tapped his ear. “Hey, Winston-”

Hanzo tuned out the rest, tucking himself into McCree’s side as they crossed the street.

“-Gonna take up a position for observation of the scene. There’s a cafe with glass walls and a view of the street.”

Hanzo didn’t have time to open his mouth to question how expensive the cafe seemed, because McCree had already pulled him up to the door before he had disconnected from the com.

It turned out that he needn’t have worried, because the hostess caught sight of them and held up a cloth bag with a grin. “Joel Morricone? Your sister was just here- she left you this. She said she was sorry she couldn’t wait for you both.”

Hanzo wasn’t sure he managed to hide his confusion, but Jesse took the bag with an easy smile, pulling out a towel without so much as looking down and wrapping it around Hanzo’s shoulders.

“Sweet of her, though it’s a shame. Did she say why she had to run?”

She hostess shrugged as she picked up the menus and led them to a four-top at the perfect spot to view the melee on the street.

“No, although her girlfriend seemed pretty spooked by those droids crashing!”

“No surprise, looks like they made quite a clatter.” McCree played off his surprise, shooting Hanzo a meaningful look.

“Sure did! I’m just glad we were clear of the rubble, some of the restaurants next to us got hit with the shrapnel, but our windows aren’t so much as scratched.”

“Funny that way.”

They got settled into their booth, and only once the hostess had walked away McCree looked over at Hanzo, trying to keep a straight face. He opened his mouth. He closed it again.

He let out a helpless chuckle.

“Well-” He managed, chortling. “Well at least-”

He had to stop to laugh, nearly hitting his head on the table as he doubled over.

“Well at least we know who she- hehe- who she owed a favor too. Wonder what form the original favor took.”

Hanzo raised an eyebrow.

“Do we?”

McCree grinned even wider, gesturing towards the window, where they could see a white vishkar truck pulling up next to the police tape. It dawned on Hanzo, and he let out a snort.

“I am happy they are both our allies, then.”

“Sure thing. Especially since we get to be here, all nice and warm.” Jesse took Hanzo’s hand across the table and winked, grinning.

“Happy anniversary, pumpkin.”

Hanzo hummed, content, squeezing his hand as he looked back over the menu.

“Happy anniversary Jesse.”