So, I've been addicted to Overwatch for the past several months, and with all the colourful characters that are available, I thought hey, why not make some short stories. I apologise in advance for any incorrect language that isn't English as I'm not really fluent in anything else (if you spot a glaring mistake, please let me know). If you have an idea for a prompt to write, also let me know, though please be aware that I'll only use it if I like the suggestion and feel comfortable with it. For the first chapter I thought that I would go for something light hearted: Zarya's baking skills. Thank you for taking to time to read, enjoy!
Zarya was furious, her brow knitted in bemusement as she stared at the black pan within her hand over the cooking hob. She ran her fingers through the gelled pink spikes of hair in an attempt to calm her increasing annoyance.
"бесполезный..." She said, harshly waving the cooking utensil side to side as if it would help her current situation.
The smell of burning wafted through the modern kitchen, the marble work surfaces mired by a mixture of flour and milk that had somehow made its way from a mixing bowl, across to the hob and then back onto the varnished surfaces to decorate the space in some form of contemporary art. A box of a dozen eggs sat next to the domed ceramic, it's position titled towards the tall woman as if to say 'Look! Look at what you've done!'. Most of them had been broken open or cracked in some form, their contents oozing outwards across the container lifelessly, making the whole scenario a rather sorry sight for anyone who might be walking into the room as of now.
The pink haired Russian conceded that she couldn't cook to save her life, or rather couldn't bake at any rate. Her gaze looked upwards to see a pancake unceremoniously plastered to the ceiling from one of her earlier attempts, waiting for the perfect moment to limply fall on the woman's hair when she wasn't looking. Zarya sighed, turning the stove off and placing the pan on the side. The sound of footsteps caught her attention as she turned around.
Mei walked into the kitchen in her pyjamas, cleaning her glasses with a silk cloth as she squinted in attempt to see where she was going.
"Good morn- oh." She peered in awe at the apparent tornado that had breached the room, placing her eyewear on with a surprised look. She looked to Zarya, then to a pitiful looking flour bag that seemed to have met its demise to a kitchen knife; it's sides slashed and innards scattered about the surfaces. She gazed back to the pink haired woman who incidentally also had flour all over her face. "Ummm...Is everything alright?"
"No." Zarya said simply. She exhaled and relaxed her frame, leaning against the hob with her arms crossed as she closed her eyes in bemusement.
Mei peered past the tall woman to the stove, seeing the contents of the pan. She smiled faintly. "Were...were you trying to make pancakes?"
"Crepes actually...and trying is the correct word." She pointed to the ceiling, highlighting her situation by the sorrowful baked good clinging to the surface for its life. "I wanted to surprise you, however my culinary skills appear to have gotten the better of me."
The smaller woman laughed lightly, walking over to gently embrace Zarya against the hob. She placed her cheek against the Russian's chest, hearing the now increasing pulse of the tall woman's heart. Mei looked up to her after a moment with a warm smile. "You don't have to impress me with your cooking skills Aleksandra, it's the thought that counts. I would have eaten it anyway even if it was burnt." She peered up to the pancake on the ceiling. "Saying that...I am glad that you stopped when you did, I'm not sure the new decor is a fit..."
"Sorry." Zarya apologised. She gave Mei a lopsided smile as she unfolded her arms and embraced her back, resting a hand upon the brown locks of Mei's hair. "Perhaps I can go to the store to buy some pre-made crepes, would that be better?"
"That would be lovely." Mei conceded. She laughed as she suddenly saw the pancake above drop downwards and cling across Zarya's face and spiked hair.
The Russian athlete was not impressed.