McCree doesn’t exist in Sombra’s database because Reaper has obliterated all of his files, all of his information, any tiny little piece of evidence linking him to Overwatch.
Sombra picks up a security feed from eight years ago of what appears to be a strange man dressed as a cowboy involved in a covert Blackwatch operation. No way he’s Overwatch, Sombra, just look at him. Look at the way he’s dressed. Obviously a civilian. Ridiculous.
Sombra stumbles over an old Overwatch manifesto that specifically includes one “Jesse McCree”. Never heard of him. He must have been one of those pathetic recruits that didn’t even make it past basic training. Don’t give me that look, do you think I would just forget any of my former teammates? I’d remember a name like that. He’s probably not even worth hunting down.
Papa Reyes is still protecting his little ingrate.
The Amaris are fair game. That witch Ziegler can rot. Hell, take Jack, too, if you have to.
Imagine: Meeting Sherlock at a store while he waits for Watson to buy a gift for Mary.
Pairing: Sherlock x reader
Word count: 579
A/N: I wanted to write this for the longest time and now I finally did it. It’s just a small drabble because I’m still not in shape to write a proper Sherlock fanfiction. Yet, I hope you like it.
choice, very fashionable if I may say so.” A male voice interrupted you.
doing your early Christmas shopping, a tradition you had started the first year
you moved out of your parent’s house. Basically, you would buy all kinds of
gifts for yourself before the prices got up.
sir.” You replied with a smile as you looked to the man that had spoken.
He was tall
and slim, dark locks framing his pale face and deep blue eyes analysing you.
your fiancé will like it.” He continued. You furrowed your eyebrows.
common for people to inquire that you had a boyfriend, but this man was being
I don’t have a fiancé.” You giggled. The man let out a breathy sigh.
are you wearing an engagement ring?” He asked. You looked down to your hand,
which in fact had an engagement ring. “Don’t be ashamed of him. It is in fact
an old engagement ring, probably his mother’s ring. I can see that it looks
quite unused in spite of the age of it, so I’m guessing you got recently
in amusement. The man seemed to be a pretty smart guy, yet he was wrong.
you: I’m not engaged.” The blue-eyed man furrowed, not willing to believe your
again?” He asked.
you’re wrong.” You replied. The man looked too dumbfounded not to be funny, and
hell, it took you an eye and half of the other not to laugh at his face.
“How can I
be wrong? It is an engagement ring, and it is on your hand in the right finger.
It’s old, and yet it looks clean because you haven’t worn it much.” You nodded.
“It is in
fact an engagement ring, and I am in fact wearing it correctly. It is old, true, but it looks clean because I only wear it on occasions.” The man was truly messed
“So you only
wear it on occasions because…” Before he could make a suggestion of you being a
cheater to your fiancé or a single lady wearing a fake ring to keep men away,
“It was my
mother’s engagement ring,” you spoke, “She gave it to me a few years ago. I’m
not engaged and I only wear it every now and then because I don’t want people
to think I’m already taken.”
always something…” The man whispered to himself.
You furrowed your eyebrows.
never mind.” He shook the thought away with a hand gesture. “So, mind telling
me why you don’t want people to think you’re taken?”
“You are a
very curious man, aren’t you?” You laughed, not answering to his question.
“I am, in
fact.” He responded, puffing his chest out and coking his eyebrow proudly.
“May I ask
why you are so concerned about my relationship status?” You asked, smirking.
to find you very pleasing to the eye and, now, I also find you very
interesting.” He answered, taking good care of his words; he sounded like he
was afraid to say something wrong, yet somehow he also sounded confident.
finished. You gasped what kind of man was he?
wearing a bracelet with your name on it.” He simply replied.
strange man you are, Mr…” He smirked at your words.
A/N: Wanted to try to get another chapter of this out this weekend since I won’t be able to really write during the week (and because this idea came to me today and I wanted to get it down before I forgot).
It had surprisingly been more than a week since you had heard
from T’Challa last and it was kind of starting to worry you. You had heard
through the grape vine that he was out of the country but that usually didn’t
stop him from at least texting you. Honestly, you guys talked so much that if
it weren’t for the fact that you weren’t allowed to tell anyone about the two
of you, you’d almost think you were in a real relationship. But your worries
were squelched when you walked into your office and saw a huge bouquet of
flowers waiting for you. There was no note on them but you knew who they were
from. No one else would send such an over the top gift to you. For heaven’s
sake, they took up half your desk, you had to give them their own chair just to get them out of the way.
they don’t play singleplayer games. it’s either all of them or none of them, which annoys bakugo to the most. let the boy enjoy his tapping games.
a day at the beach isn’t quite bad for them, if they can manage through the day without nearly choking on sand. on the other note, mina and kaminari make the best sandcastles, and constantly makes sero into a mermaid out of sand and sero then has prepared to never use his tape at the beach. ( cue his tape being covered in sand. )
matching outfits! bakugo’s hoodie is orange and says ‘B’ on the front, mina’s hoodie is pink and says ‘AK’, sero’s hoodie is black and says ‘US’, kaminari’s is is yellow and says ‘QU’ and kirishima’s hoodie is red and says ‘AD’. it confuses people if worn by one of them at a time, cue only wearing them when they’re all together.
the group has an inside joke about kirishima being the youngest ( bakugo’s birthday being on 4/20, kaminari’s birthday on 5/29, sero’s birthday on 6/28, mina’s birthday on 6/30, leaving kirishima the youngest at 10/16 ), meaning they’d introduce the boy as ‘This is our son, Kirishima. He is a blessing to our group and we love him.’ simply because he was born a few months later than the others.
they’re the absolute worse in the morning. all five of them are heavily disoriented, most likely looking undead to everyone else around them. iida once thought they were someone else and forced them out the dorms, cue bakugo’s anger
whenever they’re bored they think of ways to kill mineta. they pray they’ll be able to use one of the plans one day, one day to kill that little gremlin of a rat.
sero hanta is fly swatter 300 he catches everything no matter what. ( strangely this man doesn’t catch a cold and is arranged to take care of others when they’re sick )
they visit the arcade bakugo went to in middle school! they completely defeat every other highscore on dance dance revolution. kirishima wins the strength depending games, kaminari enjoys claw machines, sero enjoys things like pacman and bakugo just plays everything trying to ace the games.
when they were invited to a dance, none of them got dates. they went as a group, wearing suits, with ties having their respective color. no one argued with mina when she wanted to wear a suit, it was better to match anyways.
sero and kirishima throws coins into a fountain whenever they make a wish, leaving mina and kaminari to steal the coins afterwards. no one questions why mina and kaminari are a few coins richer every time sero and kirishima loses some
they manage to make everything into a game, chores? a game. the dishes? a game. they’re extremely competitive with everything, especially a certain bakugo.
they love taking selfies! there’s a corkboard in every bakusquads members room, different photos from their friendship pinned upon it. souvenirs from the areas they’ve visited as well, and truth be told, it was sappy but they liked the corkboard in the room, it reminded them they’d be the best of friends.
they all have each other on speed dial. sero once missed the ice cream truck and now everyone has to call each other to alert for the ice cream. either everyone or no one.
lazy days mean a lot to the squad! they enjoy just simply laying down on the sofas in the common room and playing small games such as 21 questions or rock paper scissors, sometimes hand – clap games if they’re cooperative enough.
they all made a goal to move into an apartment together, all five of them. even if they managed to be pro heroes, they decided it won’t break off their friendship. ( bakugo wanted to say he was glad he’d be able to ditch the idiots when he became a pro hero but didn’t anyways. )
they could get into arguments about the most trivial things, thus making sure everything wasn’t messed up to ensure no one ended up yelling or in a fistfight with one another.
the squad practices how to include their quirks with one another, devising moves as they’d call it. they’d create strategic plans and try to point out the flaws within each, thus managing to perfect nearly every plan they don’t even bother to follow. they prefer charging head on, what do you expect from bakugo katsuki’s friends?
they get back seat of the bus! no matter what they claim the backseats. anyone who dare sit at the back when the squad was around was sure in for a treat.
probably posts blurry mirror selfies onto their social medias with the all caps captions and something including the word “i fucking hate these guys” or a variation of it. on rare times they’d have a clear photo with no caption at all.
bakusquad meeting bakugo’s family at first was a wild ride, with baby photos and two explosive people rather than one this time. no one mentions the baby photos or embarrassing baby stories unless they want death from bakugo katsuki himself.
they love areas that should be crowded yet are empty, such as empty school bathrooms and convenient stores when its 4 am and no ones there other than a sleepy and tired staff member. they enjoy doing whatever they want without worry of someone judging them, but they’d do it anyways.
weekends mean watching theories with one another in the dark huddled under a blanket with snacks and ending up too paranoid to go to sleep meaning bakugo has to yell at everyone for being wimps and cowards yet still needing to be hugged before going to sleep being in fear
they sign up as volunteers to an animal shelter! since they’re unable to adopt due to the dorm rules, they prefer being around and taking care of the pets. bakugo has a soft spot for a pug that he treasures with all his heart and refuses to let anyone call it ugly. dear lord let bakugo just adopt the dog already
“You’re so tiny…” Johnny whispered as he picked up the little bundle of cotton in his arms. “You’re so little I feel as though I’m going to break you.”
His fingers stroked his little boy’s cheek gently, the world had never felt more silent. He closed his eyes tightly as he remembered the beatings he had endured from his father, he would remember falling to the ground and hearing nothing. He couldn’t hear the sound that his dad’s boot would make as he kicked into Johnny’s stomach, he could hear the harsh words his father would call him… he couldn’t hear a single thing. All he could hear was silence, like he was the only person in the world, and that had brought him some comfort.
But this time, he was holding his world in his arms.
“Okay little buddy. I need to talk to you, you hear?” The tiny, little newborn baby looked up at him sleepily, not a single clue as to what this strange man was uttering before him.
“I’m going to be the best daddy in the whole world. I will never hurt you, I won’t ever lay a hand on you, except to hug you and show you affection. I won’t ever be like my old man. I’m going to love you every day until the day I die. I promise.”
Johnny meant it… he would die before he hurt this little kid the way his dad had hurt him.
I’d love to request a Thor X F!Reader (I am trash forgive me) where they
try to introduce him to video games, and some of the gang keep making
references to games he has no idea about/ they keep arguing which video
game characters everyone is? Please :)
Thor has created a chatroom.
Thor has added Y/N.
Thor: My love, Samuel has introduced me to a game of grand absconding of vehicles!
Thor: And then he said the game is just a way to control real life!
Thor: I HAVE KNOCKED OVER AND KILLED DOZENS OF PEOPLE
Thor: WORSE, I HAVE RUINED ALL OF STARK’S CARS
Y/N: Why is THAT worse?
Y/N has added Sam.
Y/N: How’d you manage to convince him?!
Sam: Patience plus a well timed explosion courtesy of Wade.
Sam: No civilians were harmed.
Y/N: You can’t see me glaring at you, but I am.
Sam: Aww c'mon, it’s pretty funny.
Thor: WHAT DO I TELL STARK? PERHAPS I SHOULD FAKE MY DEATH LIKE MY BROTHER
Life Starts All Over Again *Bucky Barnes x Reader*
Prompt: Farmers Market AU: Biker!Bucky - I have a thing for Bucky in a leather jacket, let me live my best life Sharon! Warnings: Fluff Word Count: 4,890
Drew inspiration also from this quote about fall, so forgive me for making this so fucking long it’s because I can’t function below 1,000 words.
A/N: Huge congratulations to @promarvelfangirl you deserve all the followers, I hope some of mine go over and follow you because you’re such a fantastic writer. Hope what I wrote is good, sorry about the whole ‘extra’ I went with it!
I kinda went skipped over the whole “Must be at least 500 words” Decided to add another ‘0′ at the end of 500, I’m finding it difficult to write stuff as just one-shots. This could’ve easily been a three part fic, but I didn’t want to be that person. - Rosalie
Fall is one of the best seasons; it wasn’t too hot or too cold. It was the perfect in-between, the middle ground that was nice and safe. You didn’t have to dress up too warm; a nice jumper would keep you satisfied. The leaves went from vibrant green to dusty oranges, shades of red and yellow if the sun caught the trees just right they’d look almost aflame. Fall, undoubtedly, had the best aesthetic going on. Woollen clothes, crisp fallen leaves and cute coffee houses. The colour palette for fall was to die for too; berry colours, various shades of orange going into red, plus the browns- with the splurge of the occasional mustard yellow thrown in.
Fall also had the best holiday, Halloween. Halloween is possibly the greatest holiday of the year, also the strangest but spookiest too. The stores are lined with Halloween decorations, the candy that comes out and the movies you are able to watch- since it’s socially unacceptable to watch Hocus Pocus in the spring. Also what comes with fall and Halloween is the pumpkin, traditionally used to eat and cook with but mostly used to carve a scary face into.
It’s why you loved working at the Farmers Market this time of year. Various shapes, colours and sizes, all laid out from biggest to smallest. It made you smile when you watched as kids picked out their pumpkins; a few had been carved beforehand and on display. The smell of pumpkin pie would also float through the air, freshly made from another stall a few down; it was intoxicating and mixed with all the fresh fruits and vegetables. Nothing could beat a good fall farmers market.
Your grandma owned a small fruit and veg shop, although she regularly sold her produce at farmers markets, you quickly stepped forward to help run her small business from the stall, she was getting too old now to sell all the produce herself and her usual help had family problems for the next few weeks. It was a nice atmosphere in autumn, it wasn’t mad panic like in December, and it was just calm and easy.
meeting up at a party whilst drunk AU - Awesome! Thanks, sweetness! There are a few bad words in this one, nothing awful. Hope you like! ~Lil~
The room was spinning. Those last two (or four) vodka shots were a really bad idea. Molly tried to look normal and not at all wobbly as she made her way outside, hoping the fresh air would clear her head and hold off the nausea.
Unfortunately, her vision blurred just as she stepped onto the terrace and she ran directly into a brick wall. “Fuckin’ wall!” Wait… brick walls don’t wear clothes. Slowly raising her head, she saw that the wall was actually a tall angry looking man. “Sorry,” she said or at least tried too.
“No harm done,” the wall… man said.
Molly tried to step around him to find a place to sit down but he took her by the elbow, stopping her progress.
“You shouldn’t be out here alone, especially blind drunk.” He led her to a stone bench and guided her to sit.
“You’re not, actually. You came with two other females, where are they?” he demanded.
“Immaterial. Did they leave? How are you supposed to get home in this condition?”
The wall-man asked a lot of questions. She couldn’t really keep up.
“Damnit,” he cursed under his breath as he pulled a mobile phone out of his pocket. “John, where are you? You dragged me to this blasted party then disappeared!”
Wall-man was pissed at John; Molly felt bad for him.
“I’ve found a girl… NO! Not like that, you idiot! She’s been abandoned and I need to get her home.” He paused and looked at her for a second. “NOT LIKE THAT! You know what, forget it! I’ll deal with this myself.” He put away the device and studied her. “The leggy brunette you came with left twenty minutes after you arrived. I lost track of the blonde but she wasn’t inside last time I was in there.”
“Do you know where you live?”
“Can you tell me?”
She shook her head. “You might be a killer, wall-man.”
He smirked. “Indeed. At least you still have some good sense.” He hauled her up by her arm. “You need water and carbs. I know an all-night diner close by that’s nice and public. There’ll be no wall-man killings tonight. Let’s get you sobered up.”
Two hours later, Molly sat across from the man (no longer wall-man), sipping water and finishing up her French toast. She felt better, though she knew that she’d be paying for her overindulgence for the next twenty-four hours.
Sherlock, he had told her his name shortly after they’d sat down in the booth (he also kept repeating it whilst she ate because he said she wouldn’t remember it! How would she forget a name like Sherlock?), was drinking coffee and watching her closely.
“I’m not going to die of alcohol poisoning now, thank you,” she said, uncomfortable under his scrutiny.
“Perhaps not.” He didn’t look like he believed her.
“I wasn’t that drunk,” she argued.
“You thought I was a wall. Then a wall-man. Then your primary school boyfriend.”
She was glad that she hadn’t mentioned that, for a moment, she also thought he was the reincarnation of her dead Uncle Calvin.
“You didn’t go to that party to drink, why were you there?” she asked, trying to change the subject.
“I was drinking, however, I can hold my liquor unlike you. And I went to support a friend.” He looked away. “I’ve never had one before, I didn’t know they were so much work.”
“Never had what?”
“A friend,” he replied.
She must have looked confused because he went on.
“John, my flatmate, he made me come with him because there was this girl there that he wanted to chat up. I don’t see the point of trying to talk to a woman when she’s downing Jello shots. If you’re really interested in getting to know them, wouldn’t you want to do it when they’re sober?”
Molly shrugged. She was still stuck on the ‘never had a friend before’ bit, but asked, “Who was the girl?”
“I don’t know. I never got to see her. Not a single deduction,” he said absently. “That was clearly deliberate. He’s hiding this one, for some reason.”
He seemed to slip into deep thought so Molly contented herself with drinking the rest of her water.
A few moments later he emerged from…wherever he’d been and went right back to bitching about this ‘John’. “Anyway, I did it. I went there and proved that I care about his interests. He says I’m a selfish wanker.” He huffed. “Would a selfish wanker make sure you weren't abducted by some sex-obsessed meat head?”
Molly shook her head.
“Exactly! Would a selfish wanker bring you to a restaurant instead of letting you pass out in an alley to choke on your own vomit?”
She shook her head again.
“See! You get it!” He looked across the room, once again, seemingly lost in thought for several minutes before he spoke again. “This is why I don’t like people, Molly, they make you look at yourself and evaluate your life. I was perfectly fine not caring about those around me until John sodding Watson dropped into my world, telling me that I could be better. Saying stupid shit like, ‘people make you stronger, Sherlock! Your friends you define you and keep you grounded’.” Taking an aggressive drink of his coffee, he continued on his diatribe, “Now, look at me! Sitting across from a pretty girl, eating a meal like a normal bloke! He’s ruining me!”
Though much more sober, Molly was still having a hard time keeping up with his rapid-fire speech. She’d caught most of it, but then got hung up on the bit at the end. Pretty girl? Before she could comment, however, he was back to it.
“I wouldn’t have even noticed you if it hadn’t been for him. The arsehole! He pointed you out the minute you walked through the door. Can’t deduce to save his life but somehow he knows my type even though I’ve never once mentioned my preference for petite, brainy, brunettes. Do you know him?”
The question caught her off guard. She shook her head as she tried to think if she knew someone named John. “I don’t believe…”
He waved his hand. “I already know the answer to that.”
“Just like I know by the way you hold your fork that you’re a medical student. You don’t go to Barts, though. St. Mary’s, I’d say.”
“No, it’s deduction. Unfortunately, it doesn’t help us with our problem. I’ll need more information for that.”
“What’s our problem?”
“How, Molly? How did he do that? How did he know I’d be interested in you out of all the girls at that party?”
She opened her mouth to answer, but he went on…
“It must be his superpower, or something,” he said dismissively. He was clearly kidding. It had taken the better part of two hours and more breakfast food than she’d ever eaten at one sitting, but she’d started to get accustomed to his biting wit.
“He failed organic chemistry twice but he can spot an attractive, available woman at a hundred yards.” He leant forward. “That’s what we have to find out, Molly. How did he know I’d be interested in you?”
She shook her head.
“I don’t know either, but I intend to find out.” He looked down at her plate then back to her face. “Are you done?”
“Yes.” She’d been finished for fifteen minutes, but he was on a roll and she didn’t want to be rude.
“I’ll go take care of the cheque and get us a cab.”
She started to speak up and offer to pay her half, but he was gone. What a strange man, she thought. Gorgeous, but strange. And he seemed to like her. Though he also seemed angry about it for some reason. Maybe the night hadn’t been a total bust after all. If things went well she’d really owe her new friend Mary for dragging her to that party.
Sherlock returned, holding her jacket. “Come along, Molly. We have a mystery to solve.” He helped her put it on.
“Actually, I have a mystery to solve. Your job is to be impressed and try not to distract me with your attractiveness.”
She smiled and bit her lip.
“Well, don’t do that! Lip biting is strictly forbidden!”
With a roll of his eyes, he said, “Because it makes me want to kiss you senseless, obviously.” Then he stormed out of the restaurant.
Molly followed, though she wasn’t sure if she should. The man was either unstable or a genius… or both. But she was intrigued, she couldn’t deny that. It was the most fun she’d had in ages and she was sort of invested this ‘John’ situation.
“Where are we going?” she asked as she sat next to him in the cab.
He turned and smiled mischievously at her. “Would you like to watch me break into my flatmate’s room and search through his things. I’ll teach you how to look for clues and make deductions. We’ll find out loads of embarrassing things about him. His porn collection alone should be enough blackmail for about a year.”
“Just picture it, Barbara. You and I, dancing together in front of thousands, maybe millions.” “Where, Marji, tell me again, where?” “Oh, the Flip Wilson Show, Sonny and Cher. Maybe even Donny and Marie.” “And you’re sure it’s going to happen this time?” “That’s what the strange man in the trench coat at the bus stop who sold me this magic amulet said.” “Then we’d better get started on our new act! And-a-one, and-a-two…”
I’m three weeks early with this because I have no self control whatsoever, but I am more than pleased to present you the Goth Manor - Halloween style. Happy very early Halloween folks, and if you don’t celebrate Halloween - happy October!
A/N: A little could-have-been scene set during the epilogue of Shigezane’s first English ES, right between the third and fourth parts, where he’s carrying MC home. Warning for alcohol and drunk kissing.
Pairing: Shigezane/MC Word count: 2,098 Summary:
As he carries her home along the darkened Kyoto streets, Shigezane
wishes, selfishly, that morning never comes.
stirs just as he turns onto her street, her hair tickling his neck as she
shifts position on his back.
have excellent timing,” Shigezane says, chuckling softly.
is her only reply, before she nuzzles into his neck; her nose is cold from the
evening air, and the shock of it hitting his skin sends him stumbling on
non-existent pebbles on the road.
-I asked a man how he was doing. He replied, “I’m tired, and I don’t want to hear about you.” I appreciate someone who allows for no ambiguity in a conversation.
-A pair of elderly twins passed by me, dressed head to toe in identical outfits, making the same expressions at the same time. I am going to give them the benefit of the doubt and assume that they were on their way to the set of a horror film. That being said, I am prepared to run if I see them again.
-A child stared at me. I stuck my tongue out at her. She remained deadpan. I was relentless. Eventually, as she was rolled away, she stuck her tongue out in return. This is my biggest accomplishment of 2016.
-As a woman was leaving, I said, “Have a good day.” She shouted at me that she was trying to. I am so sorry to have gotten in the way of her goal in this way.
-I was caught in the midst of an argument between an elderly lady and her granddaughter. The grandmother, telling the granddaughter that by owning a laptop, television, and cell phone, she was addicted to electronics and would surely go to hell. The daughter, unsure how on earth to respond to this. The cashier, furiously scribbling notes on every word exchanged. I am sure that this woman’s grandparents told her the same thing in regards to her stick and hoop and her sundial.
-An elderly man pulled his shirt up to his sternum. His reasons are unclear. His results, showing off his lacy black thong and unsettlingly hairless stomach.
-I was asked by a woman if we had been busy. I told her that we had been. She told me we would get busier. This is precisely the sort of motivation I was looking for today.
-A mother breastfed her child in my lane. No sins were committed. No children were corrupted. No boys became sexual deviants. A baby was fed. It is almost as if this were a natural occurrence and not a terrible act of debauchery. What a strange thing.
-A man bought a high-end breast pump alongside a Christmas card written to a grandfather. He specified that he would like them bagged together as they were going to the same person. I would very much like to meet them.
-Today I was told that Satan was going to crack open the Earth and swallow me up and that Hell would then split open after I suggested that while Christmas was important to Christians, other holidays and religions existed. I feel honored. I am sure this is not something Satan does for just anyone.