it's all bullshit

im mel. 20. writer. currently writing about: mchanzo

[commonly-nonsensical]

here we go I finally finished the stupid thing

[Overwatch/McHanzo Blog | don’t repost, please]

[kerfufflewatch]

whoops made Hanzo the edgiest trainer ever whoops whoops

[ao3commentoftheday]

This is always the best email in my inbox when it arrives.

Thank you to the commenters! You make my day!

[meltypes-blog]

peapod mchanzo week day 5

5. Role Reversal | ao3 link |

This was definitely going on McCree’s list of Top 5 Most Hated Missions. Usually, jobs that involved schmoozing the wealthy or seducing a target for info fell to agents like Hanzo, or Genji, or Satya, or literally anybody else- y’know, people who gave off an air of grace and importance because it was an innate trait. McCree was charming, sure, and he knew he was handsome, and he could be downright saintlike when the inspiration struck, but he never took interest in licking boots for a lead when an aggressively persuasive one-on-one or discreetly placed bug could do the same. Hell, the man had gotten himself fired from an undercover waiter job in Venice because he couldn’t hold his tongue. So, when Winston had outlined the mission details during the debrief, he almost thought it was a joke.

“Very funny, bossman,” McCree snorted. The entire team roster (consisting of Hanzo, Genji, Ana, and Lucio) turned to stare at him. He flushed under their scrutiny, pulling at his hat. “What?”

“I’m not joking, Agent McCree,” Winston said. “You are the perfect man for this job.”

“What about Hanzo? Genji? They’ve got more experience in this line of work than I do!”

Ana shot him a sympathetic smile. “About that….”

“The information Agent Amari and I recovered from our last recon mission shed light on some of our target’s….preferences,” Genji spoke, sounding a little too amused. McCree looked across the conference table to Hanzo for help. He was deliberately ignoring McCree, hands under his chin and eyes glued on the wall behind Winston at Genji’s mission report. Useless boyfriend.

McCree turned back to Winston, shooting him a suspicious look. “What does he mean by preferences?”

Winston cleared his throat and changed the slide. “Our target, Milton Drumpt, has an….unhealthy obsession with the culture of the American Midwest and South, most content recovered off of his assistant’s phone concentrated on recovering memorabilia from the West during the mid to late 19th century. There were also requests to obtain….graphic images and videos I have omitted for the sanctity of professionalism.”

“Oh, that’s just wrong,” Lucio commented. “His poor assistant.”

McCree felt dread pool in his stomach. “So what you’re saying is this man-”

“Cowboy kink,” Hanzo finished, mouth twitching. McCree grabbed his pen and threw it at Hanzo, who dodged it easily.

Winston sighed. “Basically.”

“Let us look on the bright side, Jesse,” Genji said. “At least someone finds your fashion sense tasteful.”

McCree wished he had another pen.

“I know you have your reservations about these sorts of missions my son, but there is no way we can let this opportunity pass,” Ana said. “This man is an idiot, but he is enormously wealthy and has important people from all over the world in his pocket.”

“That’s right,” Winston nodded, and all agents turned back as he changed the slide again. “What we’re looking for are these contacts. Because Drumpt has almost entirely monopolized the agricultural industry in North America, he has a disgustingly large amount of wealth. Wealth that he is undoubtedly using to fund terrorist organizations that help him maintain this monopoly- or, if he isn’t stopped soon, that will cause it to grow.”

McCree huffed. “And all that stands between that and the future of the free world is me sucking his dick?”

“You are sucking no one’s dick,” Hanzo glared.

Genji snickered. “Too bad for you then, brother.” Lucio smacked his shoulder. Winston rubbed at his temples and let out another sigh.

“You don’t have to do….that. But you do need to convince him to trust you long enough for you to obtain any device on his person and bug it. Tablet and phone are preferred, though if he brings you to his office-”

Hanzo’s eyes narrowed and he thinned his lips.

“- his personal computer would be best. This information is vital to obtain so that we can compromise Drumpt to the public, similarly to LumeriCo’s CEO. The mission is to take place during a banquet in his honor a month from now.”

McCree ran a hand down his face, resigned to his fate, then was struck with a realization. “Wait- my bounty. What if he or someone else recognizes me?”

Everyone grew silent and shifted, not wanting to meet his eyes. Even Genji was looking anywhere but at McCree.

Hanzo sighed and reached across the table to grab his hand. His eyes were apologetic when they met his. “I’m sorry Jesse.”

Then, they lowered to his beard.

McCree gave him a confused look for a couple of seconds, before he jumped back in horror. “Oh, hell no! No!”

“Agent McCree-”

He pointed a finger at Winston. “You’re not touching my facial hair, you evil scientist.”

Hanzo’s mouth ticked up in amusement. “Well, you will be shaving it yourself, so you are right in that regard.”

“Yeah, don’t worry Eastwood, at least you have the month to grow that mustache!” Lucio said, smiling cheerfully. McCree just paled, frozen, while Genji and Hanzo snickered. Lucio’s smile dimmed and he looked around. “No one….told him about the disguise?”

“It’s only a beard, dear,” Ana said soothingly. “It will grow back.”

“I shouldn’t have answered the recall,” McCree mumbled, looking straight ahead. “I knew y’all would murder me the first chance you got.”

Winston chuckled. “But you did anyway, so it’s your fault! I’ll send you the rest of the details a little later in the day, so as to not discourage you further. Until then, dismissed.”

McCree stayed seated, still processing everything. Winston bounded out first, placing a placating fist on McCree’s shoulder, followed by Ana who mockingly scratched his beard. Genji and Lucio walked out, hands entwined, the former laughing hard and the latter mouthing “sorry.”

Finally, Hanzo got up from his seat to lean on the table next to McCree. He placed a finger under McCree’s chin, turning his head to look up at him.

He gave McCree a small smile. “You were quite dramatic.”

“I don’t do these types of missions,” McCree muttered, flushing slightly. He did act a little silly. “I just don’t know if I’ll….” He sighed when Hanzo moved his hand to cup his cheek, thumb rubbing soothingly. “I don’t want to fuck it up.”

Hanzo leaned down, placing a small kiss on his lips. “You give yourself less credit than you deserve,” he murmured. “You will do fine. There is time to prepare.” He pressed another kiss on McCree before straightening, hand grazing his jaw and landing on his shoulder. “Although, I will miss your beard. The burn I get from it has grown on me.”

McCree barked a laugh, ears burning. “You’re terrible.”

“You love me,” Hanzo smiled. “Come. You have to shave. And to make up for it,” he squeezed McCree’s shoulder before kicking off the table, “we can practice your seduction methods.”

“I don’t think they need any practice if they landed me you,” McCree stood, smirking at Hanzo. Hanzo stared, and when McCree said nothing else, he just started laughing. And laughing.

McCree sputtered. “Hon, what the hell?”

Hanzo laughed louder as he exited the room.

[wintervvood]

This Artist Experiences Sound As Colors And Paints What Music Looks Like

Melissa McCracken, a painter with synesthesia, explains what it’s like to see your favorite songs. [x]

“Karma Police” — Radiohead

“Little Wing” — Jimi Hendrix

“Gravity” — John Mayer 

“Imagine” — John Lennon

“Joy in Repetition” — Prince

“Since I’ve Been Loving You” — Led Zeppelin

“Life On Mars?” — David Bowie

“Tonight, Tonight” — The Smashing Pumpkins

[vagabond-virgo-blog]

i migght be overly caffeinated but i cried looking at these

[afrofantasy]

https://www.instagram.com/theresafractale/

[tusks-and-tonics-deactivated202]

Wow. She is truly beautiful! It’s so refreshing to see a person of color depicted in a fantasy setting that isn’t made to be a villain or complete throw away, idiot of a character, but as a queen.

[shykorok]

Bastet Ana wallapapers. Like/Reblog if you use please 💛

[world-of-cats]

Source

[long-ago-1234567890]

in these hard times dont forgety that jack morrison’s ass is canonically flat as a board

[nyanphobic-moving]

#when he said he couldnt give vincent the life he deserved this is what he was talking about

[meltypes-blog]

oh god why did i write that smut H

[darkmelaningirls-deactivated202]

Love to my dark skin Asians

[criticalalexandrite]

And people who claim that dark skinned Asians aren’t a thing in Asian especially Japan are promoting colonialist bullshit.

[questionartbox]

Face study from November for Patreon!

Last month my patrons suggested good old Hanzo for a face study! In my mind, Hanzo has a handful of very distinct features: widow’s peak, nose, frown. It was fun to sit down with him and actually realize how different his general face shape is compared to for example McCree!

[meltypes-blog]

peapod mchanzo week day 4

[look who’s a day behind ehehe....sorry. better late than never though!] [[i also wrote an explicit section for this here: | ao3 link |]]

4. Game Night | ao3 link | 

Strangely enough, it started out as a thing between him and Hanzo.

He and the archer met up enough times during the late hours of the night in the rec room to share booze, or stories, or to just sit in silence, that Jesse decided they might as well have fun together instead of wallowing in their own depressive thoughts when it became too much. It was around the 20th time (not that Jesse was really counting) and a few good months into the recall when he pulled out the deck of cards.

“You wanna play?”

Hanzo simply raised a brow from across the couch, lowering his drink. Jesse liked him best when he was like this: sleep rumpled shirt, hair messy and falling everywhere, face smoothed out instead of harshly bunched up. It was a quiet, peaceful night, too. Their previous mission had been a success, no one came home gravely injured, and Mei had made a decadent strawberry cake to celebrate. He knew Hanzo was feeling just as relaxed as he was, if the missing dark circles and lack of hollow eyes were anything to go by.

McCree cleared his throat. “Poker, I mean.”

“You want to play poker during our impromptu therapy sessions?” Hanzo smirked. “Not very conducive to our progress.”

“Yeah, ‘n I’m sure the getting drunk part of this whole thing is extremely helpful,” McCree snorted. “C’mon, one game.”

Hanzo got that unsure look on his face, the one that McCree started to dub as his “bullshit honor code” expression; as if experiencing any sort of happiness or taking part in any kind of self-indulgent leisure was going to undo all of the self-redeeming he had under his belt. He made the expression around McCree enough that he could probably pick up on it from 200 feet away. Although, Jesse did find it a bit flattering he considered playing a simple round of cards with an equally terrible asshole to be any kind of fun.

The archer tapped his beer. “It is getting late.”

Oh for the love of-

McCree decided this situation required his most persuasive tactic.

“Sounds to me like you’re scared of losing.” Jesse raised his brows. “‘S alright, I mean, you’ve probably never even won a legitimate poker game before. Bet that back then, people let you win.”

He knew it was dangerous to mention anything involving that, and Hanzo’s eyes narrowed in response, his nostrils flared, he slammed his beer on the table next to them, and McCree was getting ready to get decked in the face, when-

“Deal me in so I can make you eat those words, cowbitch.”

It was two weeks after that, and around the 28th time when a certain professional gamer decided to butt in. He and Hanzo were tied, almost 20 minutes into the deciding hand, and, to McCree’s utter disbelief, shamelessly flirting with each other. He reckoned that the mutual teasing and drunken banter had something to do with the lengthy round. That, and because truthfully, neither one of them wanted it to end.

Hanzo was borderline giggling at something McCree had said about Morrison’s hairline, when a loud exclamation from behind interrupted them.

“Oh, no way! Is that poker?”

Both men froze as if they’d been caught doing something scandalous. Hanzo was the first to recover and smoothed his face into a neutral expression.

“Hana, you should be asleep.” She walked into Jesse’s field of vision and he took in her red-rimmed eyes and slightly shaking arms. He glanced at Hanzo, whose face was already painted with concern.

She scoffed. “Yeah, I just finished a 13 hour stream and had about 5 nano-colas, so that’s not happening in the foreseeable future.” She made her way to the couch, plopped down next to Hanzo and freed her hands from the front of her pink hoodie. “Can I play with you guys?”

Hanzo looked to Jesse, raising a brow in silent communication. Jesse shrugged.

“Sure thing, pumpkin. Let me deal you in.”

After three rounds, she threw her cards in the air. “What the hell? Are you both cheating?”

Hanzo chuckled. “I am not. McCree, however….”

“I ain’t cheating!” McCree lifted his prosthetic to jab a finger at Hanzo. “If anyone, it’s the goddamn ninja. I’m-”

A pile of cards slid from an opening in his metal arm and hit the free cushion between them. Hanzo bit his lip, eyes crinkled in amusement.

“-innocent.”

Hana howled with laughter and Hanzo followed shortly after, head thrown back, exposing his neck. Jesse felt something akin to a punch in his gut at the sight and he knew he was well and truly fucked.

“That was kind, what you did,” Hanzo remarked, after Hana had begged off to bed- but not before making both men promise to teach her how to play better.

McCree picked up another bag of potato chips (Angie was going to kill them for letting her eat that many) and chuckled. “‘S nothing.”

Hanzo grabbed an empty can of nano-cola. “Acting more a fool than usual? Perhaps you are right, that would be nothing for you.” McCree gave him a flat look and threw a can at his face, and Hanzo caught it with a smile. “You do realize she will think you actually cheat now?”

“How do you know I don’t actually cheat?” McCree asked, walking to the trash receptacle near the door, Hanzo at his heels.

Hanzo snorted. “Do not insult me. I can tell a cheater apart from a genuinely talented player. Also, I have been watching you closely. Very closely” McCree knew it was supposed to come off as intimidating, but the double meaning had his heart racing.

“So you’re saying I’m a good player, and that you pay a lot of attention to me?” McCree smirked and dumped the trash. He placed one hand on the wall next the archer’s head and the other on his hip, leaning over Hanzo. “My, my, Mr. Shimada, you’re dropping a lot of tells.”

To McCree’s satisfaction, Hanzo’s ears turned pink. He dumped the cans in the recycle bin with a huff. “I will remember this during the next night.”

Jesse had to fight hard to make his smile reasonably sized. “I look forward to that.”

He and Hanzo never had a set schedule for these things. Usually, if both men weren’t on a mission or stationed to another Watchpoint, McCree would send him a quick message, and they’d meet up, and that was that.

That changed with the addition of Lucio and Lena.

McCree wasn’t that drunk, and neither was Hanzo, and that made the reality of what they were doing all the more exciting. Hanzo was winning by an exceptionally large margin, getting cockier, and by his 11th winning hand, he decided to up the ante.

“I feel you are lacking the motivation to win,” Hanzo remarked, shuffling the cards.

To be honest, that was exactly it. It thrilled McCree to see Hanzo so unreserved and haughty, so maybe he was throwing just a little. That glint in the archer’s eye when he knew he had Jesse made him want to do something not particularly appropriate for a public area.

“Oh? And what kinda motivation do I need?”

Hanzo’s eyes roamed over McCree’s body, and heat curled heavy in his gut.

“Your hat.”

McCree blinked. “My what?”

“Lose the next round, and I get your hat.” Hanzo smirked. “If you win….” He tilted his head to the side, dealing the cards out and placing the deck down. “You can have whatever you like.”

The implication definitely wasn’t lost on McCree and he breathed heavily, properly determined to win this hand.

And win he did.

He was just reaching over to the back of Hanzo’s head to pull his hair ribbon out, and maybe smash their faces together, when once again, Hana Song-

“Ah, finally! I told you guys they’d be here!”

McCree jumped back, red in the face and Hanzo coughed into his hand, looking to the side. Lucio and Lena followed behind her as Hana continued chattering and made her way to their couch. Both of the newcomers gave Hanzo and Jesse sympathetic smiles as they sat. McCree flushed harder. Hanzo was still looking to the side.

“....and I always play to win. So, deal us in card sharks, I promised to show L and L my improved skills. Jeez, Eastwood you’re redder than a tomato, how much have you had to drink?”

McCree gave her a sad grin. “Nearly not enough.”

“What are you all doing up at this hour?” Hanzo looked at them, sounding a lot irritated.

“Oh, I told them that there was a secret poker society with just the three of us and they wanted in.” Hana popped a large bubble she made with her gum. “Should I have not done that?”

Hanzo’s mouth twitched. Then he blurted out a small laugh, shaking his head. He shot Jesse a lopsided smile and mouthed “later,” and picked the cards back up to reshuffle and deal.

Later, sadly, came much, much later than intended.

After that night, Lena, Lucio and Hana coerced Jesse and Hanzo to make an actual Secret Poker Society with regular weekly meetups. And of course, only after it became a ‘Secret Poker Society’, did the entirety of Overwatch want in.

Reinhardt was the next to join. Then Fareeha. Then Brigitte.

On what was supposed to be his and Hanzo’s 43rd nightly meetup, almost the entire agent roster- save Satya and Torbjörn- were present in the rec room. Someone had even brought actual poker chips.

Jesse learned a lot from these game nights. He learned that Mei had the best pokerface of them all (sans himself) due to her perpetual cheery nature. Hana was also good at bluffing, but got too excited when she felt she was going to win a hand. Genji, he realized, was still shit even with his mask on. Same went for Morrison.

And Hanzo….

He learned that Hanzo was just as frustrated with this situation as he was.

McCree knew, rationally, that he could finish what they started that night any time. He could walk right up to Hanzo, tell him exactly what he wanted to do to him, and either get a slap in the face or wholehearted agreement. But the doubt of it all being just a game to Hanzo filled his head more than once during the day, and at night, when he stared at his phone and thought about messaging him to meet up outside of Hana’s gatherings, he felt uncharacteristically nervous. Because it wasn’t just a game to Jesse. Being alone and drunk and playing suggestive cards together was one thing, but outside of those nights, when they both had enough time to sober, Hanzo remained stoic, the BS honor code expression making a permanent appearance whenever McCree was around. And if Jesse didn’t know any better (which he did, because he had done the same thing when a small tryst with a Blackwatch or Overwatch agent became awkward), he would say that Hanzo was avoiding him.

On the 45th night, McCree caught himself fantasizing about him- or rather, someone else did. Somebody (not saying any names, but it was Genji) was sour at the fact that they hadn’t won a single hand the last game night and suggested they change it from Poker to Uno. The younger agents had squealed with excitement at the prospect, while Hanzo and Jesse shot each other matching exasperated looks. McCree would’ve suggested taking their private poker games elsewhere, but Hana declared game night was now a team building exercise, and Winston, lover of anything involving team and building (though not so much exercise) had made it official. Plus, Hana still hadn’t returned his only deck of cards.

“You are staring, McCree.”

McCree flinched and quickly glanced back down to the colorful cards in his hands. Uno wasn’t really a game of skill, so he allowed his attention to wander elsewhere. Elsewhere, to Jesse’s archer deprived mind, was across the table from him, trying a bit too hard to win. Hanzo had a competitive streak a mile wide, which he found utterly endearing, so it was no surprise that he let himself focus on someone a hell lot more interesting than a children’s game. He was just thinking about how competitive Hanzo would be in the sheets when Genji, who sat close to his right, let slip his little observation.

McCree casually rearranged his cards. “Just trying to suss out the enemy.”

“Do you usually leer at them when you do so? It is no wonder Talon hates us as much as they do,” Genji snickered.

“Shut up.” McCree noticed the plethora of cards in Genji’s hands and frowned. “The hell, you’re not even trying to win and you wanted this game!”

Genji gave him a cheeky smile. “I am here only to watch.” He blatantly slid his eyes back to Hanzo (who was currently arguing with Lena about betrayal), then back to McCree, raising a brow.

Jesse felt his face heat up. “I dunno what you’re implying, but I feel like you deserve a punch in the head for it.”

Genji suddenly pushed his chair back and stood up, dropping his cards on the table. “Me and McCree are getting more drinks.” He gestured for McCree to stand, and Jesse sighed, pushing his own chair back and standing behind him.

“Are you gonna form a loser’s alliance while you’re gone?” Lucio teased, causing half of the table to giggle.

Genji placed a hand over his heart, feigning hurt. “My beautiful boyfriend, how could you say such a thing?”

“Oh, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Lucio widened his eyes comically. “I don’t date losers.”

Genji choked, dramatically falling backwards into McCree, and the table erupted into laughter and jeers. Jesse caught Hanzo’s eye from over Genji’s shoulder, which was pressing uncomfortably into his chest, and he raised a brow in question. Hanzo shook his head with a small smile and tapped his half-full beer in answer. McCree smiled back before he directed Genji away from the table by his shoulders, pushing him out into the hall.

When they got to the kitchen, Genji pounced.

He looked directly at McCree, hands on his hips. “So. What is wrong with you?”

McCree couldn’t help the bark of laughter at that question. “You’re gonna have to be more specific.”

Genji gave him a flat look. “You have a thing for my brother. He obviously likes you back. What gives?”

“That’s….none of your business.” McCree huffed. He moved to the fridge and bent to grab a bottle of water, trying to feel less awkward. “How’d you even find out?”

“It becomes my business when my brother gets wasted and sits in his room in the dark instead of meeting me for our meditation sessions. And I would have to be blind to miss how often you two look at each other. Also, Lucio told me how he and Lena found you two a month ago. ”

McCree straightened with empty hands, shutting the fridge door. He felt tired all of a sudden and looked back to Genji in exasperation. “We were drunk, Genji.”

“That is a bullshit excuse, and you know it.” Genji gave him a steely look. “You know very well that Hanzo has an annoying tendency to not allow himself anything, most especially, something like this. I thought….” He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. “I thought that he had grown from this, but apparently he hasn’t. Even when we were younger, he felt that he was not worthy of- well.” Genji noticed McCree’s pained expression and stopped. “Just….talk to him.” When they got back to the rec room, Hanzo noticed McCree’s distress and took him to the side.

“Are you alright?” He murmured, hand on Jesse’s shoulder and eyes sincere. “What did he say to you?”

McCree’s heart melted, and he instantly felt better. Well and truly fucked. “Nothing, Han, don’t worry about it.”

To everyone’s surprise, Genji won that night by playing every single horrible card at just the right moment. And, to everyone’s disgust, he celebrated by planting a very loud, opened mouth kiss on Lucio.

Later finally came in the form of a delicious, sensual romp in Jesse’s personal quarters.

It seemed their luck had run out; Talon managed to ambush them on what everyone thought was going to be a quiet mission at Ecopoint Antartica. The firefight that ensued after their positions were compromised filled McCree with a fear he hadn’t felt since the Fall- mainly because Hanzo’s comm was the first to cut off.

“Widowmaker!” The archer snarled, and Morrison yelled for everyone to drop. “I am pursuing-”

“Shimada, get your ass over here now!” Pharah ordered,  head next to McCree’s on the cold ground. She was holding her side, one of the sniper’s bullets had cut through her raptor suit.

“I managed to injure her. She-” A pained grunt following a whistle came over the comms, then a sardonic laugh. “She has retaliated.”

“Hanzo,” McCree’s voice sounded weird even to his ears. “Hanzo, come back.”

“She- going-”

Then silence.

What happened after that was a blur.

McCree didn’t even think as he got up, standing straight in the hail of bullets, eyes glowing red. Ana let out a curse behind him, and he felt a surge of energy in his bones before he lifted his gun, fired more bullets than Peacekeeper could regularly hold- and fell, darkness descending behind his eyes and the sound of rattling bones and an evil laugh reverberating in his skull.

When he woke up, he was in his own bed, the entire team situated around his room floor playing Yahtzee. He glanced down at his chest, feeling an unfamiliar weight. Hana had returned his cards.

“I will tell you what you can do with those dice, you son of a-”

“Whoa, Han, ‘s just a game,” McCree rasped. He sat up, wincing at the abundance of noise as everyone exclaimed and scrambled to his bed.

Hana and Mei were teary eyed and hugged his shoulders, swaying him, while everyone else watched with expressions of relief and amusement. Angela scolded them, saying he needed his rest and after the pair moved, she gripped him into a tight hug herself, threatening him thoroughly.

After the excitement had calmed and they finished their game, McCree bid them goodnight, giving everyone a conciliatory hug as they trickled out his doorway. Hanzo decided to stay behind, though it didn’t go unnoticed by Genji, who made a gagging noise and mimed choking before exiting. McCree flicked him off and shut the door, anticipation and nerves bundled in his stomach as he turned back to Hanzo.

The archer stood near his bed, arms crossed and dark eyes focused on McCree.

“I would like to continue our game, if you are not tired.”

McCree’s heart picked up, and he raised his brows in a show of nonchalance. “Do you now? Which game we playing?”

Hanzo gave him an unimpressed look. “You know exactly what I am talking about.” He dropped his arms and walked right up to McCree, their chests brushing. Jesse’s pulse thumped erratically and his face flushed as Hanzo lifted his hands to grip McCree’s forearms.

He licked his lips, eyes glancing to Hanzo’s- pink, parted, his own tongue flickering out. “Hana brought me my cards back, so sure.”

“Alright, deal me in,” Hanzo breathed, chuckling. He tipped his head up and brushed his lips against McCree’s. Jesse almost gave in, the play of breath and soft lips tantalizing, but the doubts came rushing back.

“Wait.” It took all of McCree’s strength to push him away.

Hanzo gave him an affronted look. “What-”

“‘S not just a game to me, Hanzo.” McCree winced at how cheesy that sounded. “I mean- I really like you.” He scanned Hanzo’s face, reaching for his hand, clutching it tight. “A one night stand isn’t going to be enough for me.”

Hanzo’s brow furrowed and he squeezed McCree’s hand back, moving his other one to cup Jesse’s face. “I apologize if I gave you the impression that I- that this was ‘just a game.’ It is not.” Hanzo brushed his thumb across McCree’s cheek. “I care for you deeply.”

“Oh,” McCree said, a giddy smile growing on his face. “That’s good.”

Hanzo’s face broke out in a matching grin, and he gave him a disbelieving scoff. He crowded McCree’s space once again. “I would hope so.”

He leant up on McCree’s shoulders, bringing his mouth to his ear. “I believe the game we were playing was strip poker?”

McCree shivered, gripped Hanzo’s hips and squeezed. “I lied. Hana ate my entire deck of cards.”

“What a shame,” Hanzo said, shaking with repressed laughter. He brushed his nose against McCree’s. “We cannot play without them.”

McCree smiled wickedly. “We could just play strip.”

“Smart man,” Hanzo said, moving his lips to mouth at his other ear. “You go first.”

The next game night, when they walked into the rec room holding hands and sporting matching bruises on their necks, Hana smirked from the head of the table and held her hands out, making “gimme” gestures. Everyone groaned in unison, taking bills out of their pockets and handing them over.

“Do I want to know what this is?” Hanzo asked, eyes narrowing.

McCree saw Genji collecting money too, and felt a pang of annoyance. “Et tu Genji?”

Genji shrugged and flashed a grin, taking a handful from Lucio. “I knew you two would come together in your own time, and decided to make some cash based on an….educated prediction.”

McCree tightened his grip on Hanzo’s hand and shot him a conniving look. Hanzo looked at him and smirked, eyes narrowing with intent.

They were going to regret ruining Hanzo and Jesse’s game night.

[ludwigplayingthetrombone]

I’m adding an addition to the mchanzo wedding comic. it’s very important. 

Kofi

Keep reading

[awardseason]

ROSAMUND PIKE 76th Annual Golden Globe Awards, Los Angeles | January 6, 2019

[mgenjo]

An Unmarked Grave (1894) by The S. Brainard’s Sons Co, translated into a reap folktale (aka just needed an excuse to draw reaper owl hehe)

[spader7]

old soldiers are hard to kill

[meltypes-blog]

peadpod mchanzo week day 3

[mr. krabs voice] day 3, give it up for day 3! Also, this is a college au because I’m weak for those and young mchanzo is cute

3. Secret Admirer | ao3 link |

Jesse normally wasn’t the type to get flustered. His mama had told him that since he was 4, his three defining characteristics were cute, charming, and shameless. Growing up in a loving and accepting family had given him the right ingredients to bake into that particular mix, but when his mama passed ten years after, and the collectors came after his Pa’s farm, those particular traits rotted and left a bad taste in his mouth. Cute and charming didn’t get him out of the orphanages quick enough, so he ran. At 17, before his new dads swooped in and grabbed his ass out of the fire, his gang buddies described him as quick, deadly, and reckless. It showed in his steady trigger finger, the unnerving accuracy of his aim, the lopsided smiles and toothy smirks. But all the swagger and confidence from his misguided teenage years were particularly missing from his mug shots; a single heist inevitably gone wrong, most of his ‘family’ dead yet again, and half a missing arm later were enough to sober him entirely.

His new dads….they tried not to define him. When they got to him, he was hollow. Quiet. Sad. As hardened war vets, they’d seen some shit, so they knew a little bit in dealing with what Jesse had gone through. They brought Jesse home with them after a grueling two years in court, though Jesse never did get a clear reason why. Gabe told him that he’d seen something in Jesse. Jack joked that he was blind, so he just went along with whatever Gabe saw. They helped heal him by letting him be, doing the opposite when his mistakes hit him hard and left him gasping at night, and encouraging him to believe in himself just as fervently as they did.

Now, at 24, GED under his belt and close to graduating with a bachelors in investigative journalism, Jesse had proudly improved upon his mama’s words. Cute turned into roguishly handsome, his shamelessness transformed into easy-going confidence, and his charming demeanor- well, that was a welcome fixed trait. But despite the fact that no one had ever called Jesse smart aloud, he wasn’t dumb. Any smart person could see that there was more to the man than a cowboy hat and smiles, and that you didn’t get a prosthetic arm and criminal record by riding a horse (unless, of course, you were a bandit from the 18th century). Even dumber people didn’t know what to make of Jesse, most of the time caught off guard when it turned out he wasn’t a complete idiot. In conclusion, no, Jesse didn’t think he was desirable in the long-term, romantic sense of things, despite his many trysts and conquests, so he put it out of his mind.

At least, that was the case, until the fourth flower delivery.

“Again, Reeha?” Jesse asked, face hot as she dropped a sunflower in his hands. “You’re not doing this as a joke right?”

His RA leant against the open doorway of his dorm with crossed arms and snorted. “I’m a college student, Jes. Flowers are expensive. If I wanted to prank you, I could just put a bucket on your door.”

“Zero points for creativity.” He responded, thumbing the back of the card attached to it. He flipped it over, getting significantly redder at the note.

Fareeha snickered. “What’s it say, loverboy?”

Jesse knew she wasn’t going to leave until he told her (she hadn’t for the last two deliveries) so he cleared his throat and read. “‘You are as brilliant as when the sun rises, you bring me warmth as its beams do. Your smile is just as bright. Thank you for existing.’”

“Aw, Jesse.” Fareeha gave him a genuine, wide smile. “Whoever that is has really lost it over you.”

His chest fluttered. “Nah, this is- it’s a joke. Someone here has just got a sick sense of humor.” He looked back to her. “Do you have any idea who it might be?”

“Jes, half the people on this floor are pretty much into you,” she responded, rolling her eyes. “It’s the cowboy hat, probably.”

Jesse chuckled. “Yeah, sure. Wait ‘til I bust out the chaps, that’ll get everyone hot and bothered.”

“It sounds genuine, though,” she said, frowning at his tone. “You’ve just gotta put your degree to use. Do some investigating.” She clapped his shoulder and stood up. “You’re good at that.”

The wheels in Jesse’s head started turning. “Do you know who puts ‘em on your desk?”

Fareeha shrugged. “Satya brings them in from the mailroom, and I’ve asked her who delivers them there, but she says she doesn’t know. Just that there’s a sticky note to have them brought to you.”

“Huh.”

After a bit more brainstorming, Fareeha waved her goodbye and left Jesse in his door, flower clutched in his good hand. He went inside, thumbing the soft petals gently, a plan developing in his head.

He was going to find whoever this was.

“Maybe they do not want to be found.”

Jesse snorted into his coffee. He and Hanzo were seated in the campus coffee shop, taking a break from an especially grueling math homework session. Jesse had first met him in his second semester Research Writing class, which, much to Jesse’s surprise and Hanzo’s embarrassment, the other man was failing. Their professor had insisted Hanzo visit Jesse for tutoring (which, up until his junior year, he did as a work-study student), and the two hit it off. The pair (sometimes with the addition of Hanzo’s younger brother) met up regularly for study sessions, finding that they worked well together despite their differing majors.

Jesse raised his brows. “Then why do they send them in the first place?”

“Perhaps they get off on buying flowers for cowboys,” Hanzo smirked.

“Gross Han,” Jesse laughed, wrinkling his nose. Hanzo smiled and Jesse felt his insides warm, a pleasant syrupy feeling in his gut.

This….thing he started feeling for Hanzo wasn’t a new development. He only needed to spend four months in Hanzo’s presence to become infatuated, though he ignored it for the most part, reasoning that shallow appreciation for an attractive man was nothing worth exploring. Then the man got a haircut, pierced himself up, changed his major to what he was actually passionate about, and Jesse’s heart was a goner. What he felt was honestly too childish to be called a crush and the other option scared the hell out of him, because even after knowing Hanzo for 2 years, he still had trouble figuring out if the man was seriously flirting or not.

“But really,” Jesse continued, “it seems a bit….I don’t know. Weird.”

Hanzo raised a brow. “You do not enjoy the attention?”

Maybe if it was from you, Jesse thought unhelpfully. “‘S not that, it’s just….I never thought I’d get romanced like this. Flowers.” He chuckled. “What’s next, chocolates? A full bouquet?”

Hanzo’s eyes got that strange glint in them Jesse had been noticing lately. “Is that something you would like?”

“Oh, hell no, that’s a bit much to be coming from a stranger,” Jesse said. He leant forward. “You got any idea who it could be?”

Hanzo’s face fell flat. “You have many admirers, Jesse. Many find you attractive, you know this.”

“You sayin’ I’m good looking?” He teased, smiling at Hanzo’s eye roll.

“I am saying,” Hanzo smirked, “Many people lack taste.”

Jesse barked a laugh. “Right where it hurts, Han. Your aim is unerring.”

“You just make it too easy,” he replied. “Speaking of,” he tapped his notebook, “we should finish these equations.”

Jesse groaned. “Easy for you, Mr. Math Major. Some of us are better with words than numbers.”

“Oh, I am well aware of that,” he chuckled. “But why you would choose a math course for your last elective if you hate it so much is beyond me.”

Jesse just smiled. “I like a challenge.”

The fifth flower arrived during Jesse’s investigation. He made his way down to the dorm mailroom, deciding to ask Satya herself if she knew anything essential.

She scoffed at Jesse’s question, putting her cell phone down. “Why would I keep the sticky notes? They are trash once their duty is fulfilled.”

Jesse sighed. There went his first lead.

“Okay,” he said. “But did you get a look at the handwriting? Was it neat? Messy?”

Satya considered the question. “Well….all of them were written in capital letters.”

“Hm.” Jessed hummed. “And….no one else gets flower deliveries?”

“Not that I have seen, no.” She smirked slightly, picking her phone back up. “It seems you have a secret admirer, McCree.”

He sighed again, pink in the face. “Seems that way.”

It didn’t help much, but he thanked her anyways, heading out into the hall. He closed the mailroom door behind him and exhaled, exasperated. He didn’t really think that asking about the sticky notes would help, but it was the first thing that came to his mind to check. He stepped forward- and almost tripped when he realized there was something on the ground in front of him. His heart pounded when he bent down to look closer.

“No way,” he breathed, picking up the single pink rose. He straightened quickly, looking to his left and right, trying to catch a glimpse of someone, anything, but the hall was empty save for himself and the dorm event bulletin board. He looked to the card and laughed softly.

“They did not have red ones, so I hope you are fine with pink. It reminds me of the times you are silly, blushing and happy. I wish you many more moments like that.”

Jesse would’ve written the secret gifts off as insincere if they’d called him sexy or complimented his ass, but the notes were always heartfelt and profound. The first, paired with a camellia, had regaled his beauty, declaring that “the depths of which are rivaled only by that of the oceans.” The second, attached to a sweet smelling gardenia, paid homage to his intelligence; “an incomparable mind” and “a smart mouth to match a smart man.” The third came with a red carnation, calling him kind-hearted and wonderful; “you inspire me to be my best.” The strangest part was that each delivery had happened in the span of a single month, each floral arrival erratic and unpredictable. The timing made little sense too: February was three months ago, and his birthday was in December. Jesse brainstormed the motivations himself but decided that they were 100% genuine, the other option being that it was an elaborate prank before grad. Most of his friends were too busy with finals or too short on cash. Jesse trudged back to his room, placing the flower in the same vase near the window as the previous ones and the note in the small ornate box on his desk that held the others, deciding to enact the next part of his investigation the following weekend.

Now, Jesse usually liked Genji, considered him a brother even- but right now, he felt like throwing him to the wolves. The green-haired bastard was cackling loud enough to draw the attention of almost everyone in the coffee shop to their small corner; he found Jesse’s floral predicament particularly funny. Jesse looked to Hanzo for help, but the man just gave him a toothy smile and shrugged.

“So, you have no idea who it could be?” Genji asked, after having calmed. “Not a single inkling?”

Jesse’s eyes flitted briefly to Hanzo (he immediately squashed that hope down, Hanzo didn’t seem like the flower giving type) before he turned to Genji. “I wouldn’t be askin’ for your help if I did, ninja.”

“Some investigator you are,” Genji snorted.

He pointed to him. “Hey now, I just haven’t finished looking around yet. I’ve got a plan.”

“Oh? Do tell.” Hanzo spoke, sounding amused.

“Well,” Jesse started confidently, settling back into his seat,” it’s gotta be someone on campus right? And the flowers gotta come from somewhere. So I sussed out the location of every flower shop in the area- which there are three of, by the way- and I plan on bringing the notes and asking around. They’re bound to know something.”

Genji hummed appreciatively and Hanzo balked.

“How do you know they didn’t order them in advance? Or that they would remember their patrons?” Genji gave his brother a weird look at the question while Jesse chuckled.

“No one has the time for advanced orders during finals. Plus, it seems like these gifts were a last minute kinda thing, because there’s no pattern to the delivery times. And if my hunch is right,” Jesse leaned forward conspiratorially,” it’s probably someone I know.”

Hanzo’s face seemed to go through a myriad of emotions before smoothing over into a blank expression. “You truly are intelligent, then.”

“I know,” Jesse grinned cheekily, feeling proud.

Genji let out a choked noise at something and stared incredulously at Hanzo. Then at Jesse. Then back to Hanzo.

“Jesse. You really can’t guess? Really?” Genji’s eyes were pleading.

Jesse furrowed his brow. “If you know something I don’t, the help is appreciated.”

Genji muttered something in Japanese and stood up suddenly, grabbing his bag. “No. I don’t know anything, apparently. If you will excuse me, I’m going to go somewhere else before I throw up.” He turned a devious smile to Hanzo, who sat uncharacteristically frozen. “I will talk to you later, brother.” Then he was gone.

“Well, that sounded foreboding,” Jesse commented to a strangely flushing Hanzo. “Did you catch what he said under his breath?”

“No,” Hanzo answered quickly. He stood up too. “I- I have to go. Satya needs my help with a project.”

“Oh.” Jesse sat back disappointed. “Okay. See ya later, then.”

Hanzo gave him a tense smile before he hurriedly departed. Finals week, Jesse decided, was a bitch.

The sixth flower was thankfully delivered in person.

He woke up that morning feeling motivated, ready to find the mystery person behind the roses. His trip to the first floral shop wasn’t what he expected, considering it closed down 5 years ago and sat on the side of the road as a sad, dilapidated building (thanks, Google)- but he wasn’t deterred. The second shop, however, didn’t yield satisfactory results either. He showed the owner the notes, and much to his embarrassment, she said that they didn’t even use the same cards or ribbon as the ones the stranger gave him.

“Whoever it was probably made them themselves,” she said, eyes twinkling. “That’s so sweet!” Jesse mechanically nodded his agreement, said his thanks, and left feeling flustered at the situation all over again. Handmade note cards. Maybe they really didn’t want to be known.

So found Jesse on his way to the last floral shop- Bastion’s Bouquets- and losing all semblance of hope. He pushed the door open, bell ringing overhead, and was instantly assaulted by the sweet aroma of flora.

Flowers ranging from roses to calla lilies to desert flowers crowded on shelves that stretched to the ceiling. Long vines and leaves from medium sized palms and ferns leaned over Jesse’s head as he traversed deeper into the store, reaching the counter. It was colorful, and wonderful, and Jesse began to wonder if he was in the wrong line of work at the sight of a bright pink bougainvillea trailing along the wall behind the cashier’s desk.

“Howdy,” he called to the empty space in front of him, resting his hands on the wood. “Anybody in?”

A clatter of noise and a curse responded. Then, in a strange accent:

“Be right out!”

Jesse took to looking around as he waited, exclaiming in pleased surprise as he found a small bird hiding among a gorgeous display of hyacinths. It chirped quietly as it settled in Jesse’s outreached hand and fluffed its wings. Jesse cooed and it tilted its head, chirping louder as he rubbed a finger down its back.

“Ganymede, stop begging for attention. The name is Torb, what can I do for you, son?”

Jesse turned to find a short- very, very short- man behind him. He had a mechanical arm, a fake eye, and was wearing a pink apron with the store name and a cartoon robot on the front. Jesse immediately liked him.

“Ah, well, ya see,” he muttered, struggling to get the notecards out of his back pocket with his prosthetic, not wanting to jostle the bird. “I got- aha! I got these cards along with a bunch of different flowers over the past month and was wondering if they were ordered from you, or if you remembered who ordered them.”

Torb took the cards from Jesse’s hand, sifting through them. His ears grew hot as the short man chuckled and raised a brow at him.

“Sounds like someone really likes you, eh?”

Jesse cleared his throat, cheeks flaming. “I mean, it could be a prank. Haven’t gotten rid of that possibility.”

Torb laughed harder and handed the cards back to Jesse. “I, for one, think you should throw that thought out the window. What were the flowers?”

Jesse told him and Torb rubbed his chin.

“Well,” he started. “We do carry all of those.”

Jesse felt a surge of hope.

“But carnations, camellias and roses are popular ones, and we haven't sold any sunflowers recently. I would remember that.” He gave Jesse a sympathetic look. “‘M sorry lass, I can’t help you there.”

Jesse’s stomach plummeted and he sighed. Ganymede chirped softly and flew away to the back room, probably to eat or sleep. He looked at Torb imploringly, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Are there any other flower shops around here that have the same selection you do?”

Torb shook his head. “Afraid not. Otherwise, we would be out of business.”

Jesse nodded and said his thanks, ready to give up when Ganymede came flying back out, a small slip in her talons. She landed on Torb’s shoulder and dropped the paper into his open hand.

“Ah! That’s right, it almost slipped my mind!” He said, reading through it. He looked back up to Jesse with a toothy grin, waving around what looked like a receipt. “Seems I was wrong. There is one other place that carries the same selection we do, though it only orders a small amount from our stock.”

The supermarket. Why hadn’t he thought of that?

Jesse had walked by the flower freezer in there every time he shopped, but he never paid it enough attention for its presence to register in his head. He ran hurriedly from Torb’s shop to the market a few blocks over, hope swelling. It was getting late, the sun almost finished setting, and he knew the store was going to be closed in a couple of hours. He would get in there, and he would- well, he would look and- huh.

Jesse slowed to a jog, coming to a stop in front of the store. He frowned, realizing he had no plan. What would he do? Rather, what could he do? Too many people went in and out, and it’s not like a chain market would take note of each customer that bought sunflowers. He swallowed, feeling his hope shatter yet again.

He could….stake the place, he guessed. But his admirer obviously knew what he looked like, and loitering was still considered a crime. He was about to walk inside, maybe buy some booze and drown in it, when a voice ripped him from his thoughts.

“Jesse?”

He turned to his right to find Hanzo, looking as attractive as ever in his dark jacket and jeans, with a comically stricken expression on his face.

Jesse wondered what was wrong, until his eyes zeroed in on the package in his hands, and he sucked in a breath.

A bouquet of roses.

Hanzo held the flowers in a tight grip, an entire bouquet of expensive red roses, and Jesse, tired and emotionally charged at the sight, blurted the first thing that came to mind.

“You get off on buying flowers for cowboys?”

Hanzo turned red and made an audible noise in the back of his throat, taking a step backward, away from him.

He’s gonna run, Jesse suddenly realized, and he raised his hands in apology, a hysterical laugh bubbling in his throat at the relief he felt that it was him, at what this situation had come to.

“Hanzo,” he laughed, slightly breathless, and the man took another step backward. Jesse took a large step towards him and fought down another laugh. “Hanzo, wait.”

“I did not think you would find my affections funny,” he said, looking and sounding hurt.

Jesse sobered instantly, realizing what was at stake, and took those last few steps to reach him. “Hanzo, wait no, I’m not laughing at you. It’s just- this whole time?” He reached for Hanzo’s free hand. “You could’ve just talked to me, hon.”

“I am not good with words,” he responded, looking anywhere but at Jesse. “I know it is childish, but Genji told me that you had never had a serious relationship before, and with you leaving in two months for that job in Gibraltar, I just….”

He sighed, searching Jesse’s eyes. “I wanted to make sure you at least knew that someone cared for you, in that way….still cares.”

Jesse’s heart pounded and he gripped Hanzo’s hand tighter, not knowing what to say. He had Hanzo right where he had wanted him since he first saw him, and he was speechless.

“Okay, here’s the thing.” Jesse decided to lay it all out. “I’ve been in love with you for almost a year now, and if you’re willing, I’d like to try. Gibraltar or not, I’ve been absolutely hopeless for you. If you’ll have me.”

Hanzo lowered his burning face and heaved a deep, shaky breath. Then, he looked up and pressed the bouquet to Jesse’s chest, a small smile making its way onto his face. Jesse held the flowers there with his prosthetic, face burning.

“You said that you wouldn’t take a bouquet from a stranger and I was actually going to give these to you in person, when I found the right thing to say.” He pressed himself closer to Jesse. “I do not have a card this time, so I apologize.”

“Oh, that’s okay,” Jesse breathed, moving his hand to the small of Hanzo’s back, the roses crinkling between them. “What were you going to say?”

“I love you, too.” Hanzo leaned up and pressed a soft kiss to Jesse’s lips, and Jesse brought him even closer, closing his eyes, Hanzo and the scent of roses overtaking him.

After he and Hanzo made their way back to the dorms, the roses (a bit crumpled, but still whole) found their way into the vase near the window, the other flowers pressed safely into a textbook. And when Jesse finally left to Gibraltar, Hanzo sent him off with his seventh- a snapdragon that Jesse snuck in his carry-on. The message on the notecard was pretty much the same as the last one, but it didn’t make him feel any less flustered and happy.

I love you. Come back soon.