#onemanapxcalypse

He looked charming in his suit. Or as charming as he could be. She had to follow talon's orders. Her face looked uninterested at best. The hem of the black dress fluttered at her ankles as she walked. The way her dress hugged her hips on up showed off the former dancer's body.

Her cold hand rested on his, leading him to the dance floor. "He is safe....just so you know."

“Honey, did you get the sweets?” Angela asked, struggling to sew their daughters halloween costume.

@onemanapxcalypse

“Well maybe I should just leave everythin’ right here! If you’re gonna be so fuckin’ difficult Roadie! I can do this me self!”

Rat jabbed a metal finger into Roadie’s chest, pushing his point. 

           It all hurt, it hurt so bad. The explosion was awful, it had been their only escape though. But that stupid man had grabbed him, dragged him down before it hit. He had tried to get to the safety that Roadhog had been, their relationship was beginning to become a bit better.

God he never thought that this would hurt as much as it did. His leg, the part that hadn’t been shielded, had been blown clean off, the mans corpse protecting him from everything else, he managed to push it off. Attempting not to cry, though it just slid down his face.

“ H....hog! ”

He wheezed out, leaning back as he coughed and trembled, trying to get up, but the odd feeling of his leg feeling here and not actually being there as he slowly tried to grip himself up. It wasn’t working and he was too weak, his body wasn’t reacting how he wanted to, and he fell down with a heavy puff of dirt and ash.

Send my muse “Close your eyes, I got a surprise for you!” || Accepting

8. A joke gift.

Jesse sighed, closing his eyes and resting his hands on his hips as he waited for Mako to deliver whatever it was. “Mako if this’s one o’those fuckin’ lizard things again I’m blowing yer hand off.” He scoffed before putting one hand out and another over his eyes. He wasn’t good at not peeking. He liked to know what he was getting before it was given to him.

When he felt a weighty box dropped into his hand that he almost dropped his hands scrambled to hold it off the ground. It looked... nice. Like an actual present. Jesse squinted and looked up at his companion with suspicion.

“It’s another fuckin’ lizard idn’t it?” He asked as he pulled the top of the box off. When he saw what was inside he blushed a deep scarlet from the tips of his ears to his belly button, embarrassment is quickly washed over by indignation.

Inside the box was a bright blue- what Jesse can only assume to be dragon dildo.

Both him and Junkrat been handed over into Overwatch’s custody for… God only knew what reasons. Better not to ask why and just go along with it. Upon arrival, everything except the prison jumpsuits were confiscated, even his coveted mask. He’d crafted a makeshift one out of a pillowcase which… Surprisingly had a similar shape to the original. Only exception being his eyes were exposed. Of course that also meant he’d been without his precious hogrogen for over 48 hours, and he was starting to itch. He knew that’s what the fever was for–he knew it’d go away if he could just take a hit.

He ran his black painted nails over his hand; by this point he’d done it so much the skin was starting to rake off. “I’m telling you I don’t get sick. A fever isn’t sick–it’s an inconvenience. Just let me get my things. Please.” He was impatient, twitchy, and unlike his usual self. Of course, she wouldn’t know that–they’d just met.

“Firstly, stop that!” Angela scolded, slapping his hand away. “Or I will make you wear mittens.” She added on in warning, her arms crossed. Her face was etched with clear disapproval.

“You’re not having any of your things. You’re still a prisoner. You’re just a sick prisoner.” She explained, as if talking to someone who had single digit IQ points. Really, Angela was too tired for any of this. She’d honestly been planning on mainlining coffee and trying to blank her way through her paperwork for the next 48-72 hours, but then Winston had appeared with Roadhog and here she was.

“No. Yes–I mean.” Mako was usually… better with his words. Angela knew this, or at least should know this by now. As she held up the flowers though, he floundered about trying to formulate a rhyme or a reason as to why.

The why was simple–he liked Angela. He was fond of her–how she’d managed to determine that he was the one that gave them to her though was a mystery. She was usually so sharp with him that he wasn’t…sure how she’d take it. “….Which answer would you feel less angry about?”

“I’m not going to be angry about flowers.” Angela chuckled, bringing them to her nose and breathing in the scent. “They’re a nice gift. Thank you.” She reached out, patting his arm softly.