#like ah yes ... draw him leaning over to look at some kale ... that will surely cure the horrors

[phontao]

nearly had a breakdown but i drew geto buying groceries instead

[hot-wiings]

Requested By: Wattpad User 

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[Edited: 11-18-19]

"Hey! That's pretty good!" "Wha-! No one asked you!" I've got myself just a little bit of love. That I wanna spend on you. But baby, I'll never get that chance. To dance that romance with you. Oh, No, cause. You're always hitting. And kicking. And putting me down. I hope you don't mean what you say. But I keep seeing you stickin' around. Like you/I can't get enough. So I stay and I wonder. How my hand would feel. Intertwined with yours. As of now though. "What are you doing?" Nothing but closed doors. My girl's a Dere. A Tsun-Tsundere. Just saying hi gets me a punch in the face. And if I should compliment her, she starts to chase. 

Shoto Todoroki sat with you on the grounds of UA. You liked to sit outside for your lunch period and draw. Shoto was allowed to sit next to you on the condition he didn't talk or bother you.  

You were mean to Shoto, so why did you make his heart flutter? It was stupid, but he liked talking to you. He liked complimenting you even though he knew you would just hit on him or yell at him. He liked having your attention, whether you were nice or mean. 

“That's really good.”

“Shut up. Did I ask you?”

Shoto stands up from the ground and ruffles your hair as you glare at him.

“Learn to take a compliment.”

“Just go away before I punch you.”

Shoto walks away knowing you would punch him. Shoto knew he could be closed off and hard to get to know, but he was seriously trying to gain your trust. He was hoping you would warm up to him but nothing seemed to be working and it made him feel quite unlovable. 

But today, instead of punching him you gave him a warning instead. That's progress, right?

"Hey! That was a direct attack!" Oh, no! The wild cat found my hiding place! "Stupid Octopus! Take it back!" "So, uh, how am I an octopus?" "How am I a cat!?" "Well-uh. Cats are cute!" "Go away!" Can we get along? You're so headstrong. There's no way, go away, now so long! Just talk to me and you will see. That's not fair, using flair you dummy. I've got myself just a little bit of love. That I wanna spend on NOT you. Cuz baby, I'm afraid you'll say. That it's not okay with you. Oh, Oh, cuz. You're always laughing. And joking. You look like a clown. But I hope you mean what you say. "I do." And I wonder what you would think. If I let my pride down, let it sink. 

You frowned as you walked down the halls of UA and made your way towards your dorm room. It was a shitty day. You just wanted to lay down in your bed and sleep. 

Classes were hectic today. A hero, Enji Todoroki, Shoto’s father, came and watched your classes for the day. He wanted to view Shotos progress as a hero. As a result, Shoto was with him practically the whole day.

You barely got to talk to Shoto today. When you did talk to him, he was really cold towards you. You couldn't help but feel he was cold because you’re always mean to him. Technically speaking, if he hated you it was fair. You are mean to him. He just didn't understand. You had a hard time expressing your feelings.

As you walked down yet another hall you overheard people talking. Your inner spy got the better of you and you just had to eavesdrop. You followed the voices to an empty classroom. The closer you got, you discovered it was Shoto and his father. 

“I’m trying. I'm improving.”

“You call that improving? I should take you out of this school and teach you myself.”

“You can't!”

SMACK!

“Don't talk back to me boy.”

“I’m sorry, father. Please let me continue my schooling here.”

“You better improve by next semester, or else I'm pulling you.”

You hear heavy footsteps come to the door and you rummage through your bag to make it look like you weren't just eavesdropping.

“Out of my way.” 

Enji brushes right past you, pushing you slightly to the side. How rude, you didn't want his filthy hands on you. 

You hesitantly make your way into the classroom. Shoto was leaning against the teacher's desk, hand rubbing his red cheek. 

“I’m not in the mood for whatever you have to say.” 

It made sense now. It made sense why he was so cold today. If you had known his father treated him like this, you wouldn't have treated him as harsh as you do. Not that you try to be harsh, your conversations just ended like that. 

“I- um... Your father shouldn't have done that.” 

“I don't know what you're talking about.”

You walked over to him and put your hand over the hand that was covering his red cheek. He slightly flinched and guilt-filled your body out of fear you unintentionally hurt him.

“You're great Shoto. Just because you lost a spar against Bakugo doesn't mean shit.” 

“Thanks.” 

You remove your hand and leave the classroom with a small smile on your face. You hadn't ever spoken that nice to him before. You were making progress. 

Could we hold hands, kiss? Live our lives in gentle bliss? "We could." "Ah! I'm not talking about you!" You're not my Prince in this. I'm not a Dere. A Tsun-Tsundere. I have a jello heart, I'm not that mean! I'm not blushing, I was just rushing and forgot the sunscreen! "Your smile is really cute, though." You'll never see it from underneath my pigtails! "Alright. I just wanted to let you know." "Uh-um hey..." "Are you okay?" "Yeah well..." Hey, hey are you free-free today? Oh ho ho. Why do you want to know? It's not like I like you okay! Alright cool, where do you want to go? We could rent a boat and sail. Find a bunny and feed it some juicy kale. "No that sounds really stupid."

You were in the girl's bathroom when Mina Ashido and Toru Hagakure cornered you and bombarded you with questions. 

“What's your deal with Shoto?”

“What do you mean?” 

“We mean do you like him?” 

You scoff and squeeze past them.

“I don't know what you're talking about.”

You walk out of the bathroom to which Mina and Toru just follow you.

“We can see you clearly like him. You're mean to him but you always stare at him. You also don't have a logical reason to hate him.”

“You can tell us. Were all girls here, we wouldn't tell anyone.”

You bite your lip and contemplate telling them. You were closer to them out of anyone else in the class and you were all girls. This was a safe space. You slower you’re walking pace so you can walk beside them. 

“I- I love him... I just don't know how to say that to him. I always panic when I'm around him and then the first thing that comes to my mind is to say something mean. I just can’t deal with confrontations.” 

“Maybe write your feelings in a letter?” 

“Yeah. You could leave it in his bag, or put it in his desk.”

“And risk him rejecting me? No thanks... He probably hates me from the way I've been acting anyway.” 

You should have been paying more attention. You should have thought over telling Mina and Toru. Or at least told them in your dorm away from the public ears. Shoto was standing behind you a few feet away.

“[Y/N]... You love me?”

“I... I wasn't talking about you, you dork!” 

I was. I love you so much. 

“If you weren't talking about me then who were you talking about? I’m the only one you’re mean too.” 

“Katsuki. I was talking about Katsuki.”

I wasn't. I was talking about you.

“You love... Katsuki? Angry, swearing Katsuki?” 

“Yeah. Love him. The world doesn't revolve around you Shoto.”

I love him like a brother!

With a frown on his face, Shoto grIps his bag hard and turns around to walk away. 

“You suit each other. I hope he makes you happy.” 

We suit each other because we share the same fucking genes.

Okay well, how about a classy dinner by candlelight. Or scary stories til midnight. So then I could hold you tight. Ba da ba da ba. "And get Cheeto crumbs on me?! No Way!" Ooookay I think you're a little dense. I really don't like all of this talk. You have in the present tense. Baba da ba da. So listen here, buddy. It's all just a big fantasy. You see inside of your head! No! So just say goodbye! "Eh-whatever." Baba da ba da! I'm not a Dere. A Tsun-Tsundere. (My girl's a Dere a Tsun-Tsundere.) Hey! I can kick your butt even in this dress! UH! I digress! So let's just go to the park I guess. "Pffffft You wouldn't even know what to bring." Oh, come on, will you please just say yes! "Geez Fine. Baka Tako. It's not like I'll enjoy it or anything."

Shoto sighed as he lost to Deku again. They were playing games in Shoto’s dorm, but he wasn't focusing on the game. His mind kept going to you. He thought for sure you liked him, but now he felt like a fool.

You liked Katsuki. Of course, you did. Katsuki was good looking and strong, he could appease you in ways Shoto could not. It made sense. He saw you guys bickering a lot, you both had a colorful tongue and before the dorms, Katsuki and you would walk home together. You would make a cute couple.

Shoto felt inferior and worthless. 

“You're practically letting me win. What's bothering you?”

“I thought [Y/N] liked me.” 

“She does.”

“She doesn't. She told me he loved Katsuki.”

Deku gives out a little chuckle. 

“Yeah, like a brother.”

“No. Like a lover, she said so herself.” 

“Shoto. [Y/N] is Katsuki’s sister.”

Shoto stands up from the couch, shocked and bewildered. 

“Wait, so she lied to me?”

Shoto smiles and takes off down the hallway towards your dorm room. He rapidly knocks on your door, too impatient to wait for you to open it. 

“Shoto?” 

Shoto grabs your shoulders and presses his lips against yours. After noticing you don't pull away, he deepens the kiss. 

“What did you do that for?”

“I know you have a hard time expressing your feelings, so I’ll confess mine instead. I love you. I love you even when you threaten to punch me for calling you cute.”

“Even when I call you stupid.” 

“Especially then.” 

A blush adjourns your face and you anxiously bite your lip. 

“Are you free tomorrow night?”

“For you, I'm always free.”  

[dabbledrabbleprose]

25. Christmas

A continuation off of my previous piece, Christmas Eve. I’d recommend reading it before this one.

 *   *   *   *   *

They celebrated the rest of Christmas Eve in their shared quarters, then spent the rest of the night in each other’s arms, discussing dates, colors, and other wedding plans. McCree wanted to hyphenate, Hanzo was still on the fence about it. They still had plenty of time to work it out, as they’d both agreed that a spring wedding would be best. They fell asleep wrapped around each other with their entwined futures laid out before them.

Christmas morning was quiet. Most of the Overwatch agents left over the holidays, returning to their own homes and families, and the only ones left at the Watchpoint were Winston and themselves.

“Mm…” Jesse rolled onto his side and draped one arm over Hanzo as his partner threatened to slide out of the bed. “What’re you doin’? It’s a perfect day to sleep in.”

“Nonsense,” Hanzo said, slipping out from under Jesse’s arm. “Winston will doubtless be making breakfast, and it would be inexcusably rude to ignore him. Get up. Get dressed.”

“I would much rather spend Christmas in bed with my fiancé,” McCree smiled. Fiancé. It felt good to say the word out loud.

“I know,” Hanzo said, sliding on a pair of loose slacks. “Get dressed anyway.”

Jesse groaned, but crawled out of bed and threw on a pair of sweatpants and a loose T-shirt.

“So, when are we gonna tell the rest of the team?”

“I was thinking tonight,” Hanzo said, putting on a pair of slippers. Silk slippers. God, he was high maintenance. Jesse loved him anyway. “When everyone starts arriving back at the Watchpoint.”

“Sounds like as good a time as any,” Jesse grinned and gave him a kiss on the cheek before heading out with him.

The officer’s mess hall was significantly smaller than the primary mess hall, but with so few people in the new Overwatch, it seemed unnecessary to draw a distinction between who used what facilities, especially when the officer’s hall had a much better kitchen and more comfortable chairs. When they arrived, they found that Winston had indeed made breakfast for three, even though they hadn’t committed to coming. Hanzo gave Jesse an ‘I told you so’ spoken only with his eyes and one raised eyebrow.

Jesse smiled and shook his head before leading the way into the kitchen.

“Aw, Winston! You make all this for little ol’ us?”

Winston turned around, wearing an oversized Christmas sweater that Ingrid had made for him. “Oh! You made it! I, uh…just thought it might be good to have a nice breakfast for Christmas morning. You know. Just being us and all.”

“Aw, well that’s mighty kind of you,” McCree smiled, one hand lazily entwined with Hanzo’s. “What spread have we got?”

“Oh, well. I made banana-nut pancakes with scrambled eggs, and there’s also kale and carrot vegetable smoothies.”

“Kale and veggies? That don’t sound like you,” Jesse said, dropping into a seat, though he was reluctant to let Hanzo go.

Winston made a face as he handed out plates of pancakes and eggs. “The…uh…diet Dr. Ziegler is insisting upon.” He began slathering his own pancakes with peanut butter.

“How’s that working out for you?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

McCree laughed and started pouring syrup over his own pancakes. “I hear ya.”

“Just as we do not speak of Dr. Zeigler’s recommendations for Jesse’s smoking habits,” Hanzo said.

“Or your drinking habits,” McCree countered with a grin, and took Hanzo’s hand again, giving it a squeeze. Hanzo couldn’t help but smile and leaned in for a kiss. Several long moments of gentle kisses and sweet words passed between them before they realized Winston was quite definitely still there. And staring, a fork halfway to his lips.

“Oh. Er…” McCree laughed nervously and rubbed the back of his head. “Sorry about that. We’re just excited, is all.”

Winston’s golden eyes flicked back and forth between the two of them from behind his glasses.

“Excited about what?” He asked slowly and suspiciously.

Hanzo stiffened and McCree coughed nervously. “Oh…ah…well…we just…um… Just some good news to share is all.”

Hanzo shot him a warning look.

“Good news?” Winston asked, narrowing his eyes.

“Well, we were planning on waiting until everyone got back, so…”

Winston’s eyes shot to both of their left hands, then looked back up at them.

“I don’t see any rings.”

Both men sat ridged in their chairs.

“Why would you assume-” Hanzo barked at the same time McCree shouted “How did you know?!” They looked at each other, then Hanzo put his face in his hands in defeat.

“Wait,” Winston said, pointing at them. “So you’re actually…”

“Yeah,” McCree grinned sheepishly. “We were saving the announcement for tonight, but we’re getting hitched.”

He had expected Winston to cheer, or politely congratulate them, or even warn them about how this could endanger Overwatch Operations. What McCree wasn’t expecting was for Winston to lean over the table to look very intently between the two of them.

“Who proposed?” He asked, dead serious.

“Uh,” McCree said, a little intimidated by a five hundred pound gorilla looming over him, no matter how well he knew Winston. “Neither of us?”

Winston’s eyes narrowed dangerously.

“We both independently decided to get engagement rings last night,” Hanzo explained, looking just as unnerved as Jesse felt. “We met in the jewelry store. That’s why we don’t have our rings yet. They’re still on order.”

“So…wait. Neither of you proposed to the other?”

Jesse and Hanzo exchanged a look.

“No?”

“It was just sorta…mutual engaging,” McCree said.

Winston pushed back and leaned back in his chair with a disgusted moan, putting his massive hands over his face.

“What?” McCree asked, feeling like he should be offended, but not quite sure what for. “What’s the matter?”

“Do you have any idea how much money was riding this?”

“I beg your pardon?” Hanzo asked, looking likewise affronted.

Winston sighed and dropped his hands, taking a big bite of pancake. “There’s been a running bet for the past…” he thought for a moment. “How long, Athena?”

“The bet was first initiated by Agent Tracer and Agent Genji seven months and four days ago,” The AI chimed in over the speakers.

“Yes. Seven months. For seven months, people have been placing bets as to which of you was going to cave first and finally propose. There was…quite a lot of money involved. I know Lena had at least seventy-five pounds riding on Hanzo being the one to ask.”

“Are you telling me,” Hanzo interrupted, slamming his hand on the table as he glowered at Winston. “that my own brother bet against me? That Jesse would be the one to ask?”

“That would be correct,” Winston said, adjusting his glasses and returning his attention to his pancakes.

“How dare he?”

Jesse grinned. “And now nobody wins? Because nobody asked?”

“Looks that way,” Winston said.

“What about you, who did you bet on, Winston?”

“Me?” he glanced up. “Oh, I didn’t place a bet. I abstained to be mediator. The arguments were getting…heated.”

“How much was in the pot?” Jesse asked, leaning forward in interest.

“Athena?”

“The total amount of currency riding in the betting pool for the theoretical proposal between Agent McCree and Agent Hanzo amounts to a total of eight hundred forty-three United States dollars.”

McCree leaned back in his chair and broke into unrestrained laughter.

Hanzo stared at Winston. “That is…a great deal.”

“Exactly,” Winston said. “There’s going to be a lot of disappointed people.”

“And that,” Jesse said, taking Hanzo’s hand in his. “is the greatest revenge for people trying to turn our relationship into a game. And that there is the best Christmas present of all.”

Hanzo smiled and kissed the back of Jesse’s hand. “You know, I think I’m quite excited for the party tonight.”

“You and me both, pumpkin.”

Winston held his tongue, but smiled as they returned to their breakfast.

[aria-i-adagio]

Echoes of the Past: Day 10, Cuisine

Dema is... not a good cook.  She’s essentially useless in the kitchen, and with Asra being a rather adept cook who can literally make a decent meal out of anything (personal headcanon), she never learned.  This failing created all sorts of mistakes and one or two small fires once Asra left during the plague.  Post plague, when Asra leaves, she relies on food stalls in the market and Artemis + Selasi for meals.

Despite frequently forgetting to eat when she’s hypomanic/manic, she very much likes food and will try pretty much anything once.  Moderately spicy things are among her favorites, and she doesn’t mind pushing herself to try something very spicy every now and then.  She developed a bit of a drinking problem while in school, and never really kicked it after she moved to Vesuvia.  The Plague didn’t help.  That addiction stuck with her even after she was brought back from the dead.

Excerpt from “Leaden Trumpets Spit the Soot of Power”

Four years ago.  January.

“It's gauche.”

“Have you ever met Lucio?  Of course, it's gauche.  Everything about him is gauche.”

“Well, okay, this is extra gauche.”  I shook the rinse water from the kale I had picked earlier and flipped the leaves over to cut out the toughest parts of the ribs.  Asra had a trick of caramelizing the greens with onions that I hadn't quite figured out yet, but the batch I fixed the night before had been closer to his.  If I defined closer as merely edible.  Maybe I'd get the proportions of onion and garlic right this time.  Or the level of heat.  Or any of the other possible variables.

“But you'll still come with me, right?”

Julian - even more useless than I am in the kitchen - leaned against the counter, watching me roll the leaves and chop them into wide strips.  Even with half the city dead or dying, the Count was still planning to host a multi-night masquerade for his birthday.  And apparently, the Count insisted on Julian's attendance.

“It just doesn't seem right.”  I tossed a handful of the kale into the skillet and jumped back as the grease crackled and splattered everywhere.  Ah well.  At least I had managed to saute the onions and garlic instead of burning them.  Progress.  “Besides, how will he even know if you're there?  Everyone's in masks and there are a lot of people.  Just spin some lie about missing him if he asks later.”

“He'll know.”

“Why's he so obsessed with you?”  I grabbed a pinch of salt from the cellar by the stove and sprinkled it over the greens.  I hadn't cooked them with salt last night and adding it at the table hadn't made them taste right.  The baker told me this morning that when you add the salt does matter, as it draws water out of the vegetables and changes how they actually cook.  “If someone cut off my arm, I probably wouldn't much care to see them again.”

“I didn't actually cut off his arm.  Hell, they, uh, still barely trusted me to carry off amputated limbs.”

“I stand corrected.  If someone walked off with my arm that had just been . . . Good lord, this conversation got weird.”

Julian groaned and covered his face with his hands.  “We had, um, a thing for a while.  I was young and stupid, and really, he wasn’t bad to me . . .”

“Seriously?”

Julian nods at me, eyelids flickering with apprehension.

“Okay, so the Count is an ex-lover from back when you were both mercenaries, and he’s decided he’s interested in you again?”

“Didn’t quite know if or how to tell you.  Um, I mean, I'm not interested in him, not now, ugh . . .”

“Should I be jealous and threatened?”  I reach up and touch his chin.  Nothing to be gained from jumping at the shadow of each former lover.  We could play at that game for a long time between the two of us.  “I mean, I can fake it if you want.”  

A huge, relieved sigh leaves Julian’s chest, and I feel his lips press against the top of my head.  “Sorry.  I should have told you before; it’s just an overwhelming amount of awkward, you know, with Lu being well, Lu.  But I'd still rather not piss him off.”

“And you need me there because -?  I’m not mad at you.  I just really don’t think he should be throwing a party right now.”

“Can't I just want to see you in a pretty dress?”  He looped an arm around my waist, spun me away from the stove, and dipped me back.  “And if I'm dancing I'd much rather dance with you.”

“So you need me to come to keep you safe from the big scary count?”

Julian affected a pout.  “Pretty please.”

“Oh, all right.  I'll go.”

He laughed and picked me up again, kissing each of my cheeks, then my mouth.  I smacked him with a wooden spatula until he put me down.  The greens had already started to burn.  I push them around with the spatula, then grab a towel that’s already been scorched multiple times to lift them off the heat.  Too late.  Probably still edible though if I'm careful to leave the charred bits in the skillet.

At least the cornbread hadn’t burned.  And it actually rose this time, thanks to some fresh baking powder that Selasi had slipped me with a laugh when I complained to him that I could have used my last attempt as a lethal weapon.  With that improvement and a bit of goat cheese, I’d traded eggs for, the meal was almost worth eating.  Not that Julian has ever complained. 

“I do have something I can wear.  It's just, maybe a bit daring.”

“Oho?  I like the sound of that.”  He folded his hands under his chin and stared intently across the table at me.  “Can I see?”

“That's actually a good idea.”

“I had a good idea?”

“Yes, I should make sure it still fits.”  I glanced away and then looked back at Julian with half-lidded eyes.  “And it's a bit easier to get into with two people.  Well, maybe not easier.  More fun.”

“Now, I really like the sound of this.”

“Of course you do.  Lech.”