#I forgotten to mute my overwatch chat and someone had to talk shit about me specifically

[kimmei-a-minute]

The audacity to add someone just to message them that they're terrible at a game

[gyromitra-esculenta]

Crackverse 8 Volskaya Infiltration <3

Waifu for ‘headcanon’-ing <3 which means it gets a lot of story. Not that part. But the crackverse in general <3  Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Xmas New Year 

“Do they serve bleach?”

“If they don’t, I’ll make them, Jackie.”

“I’m in position,” Jack informed, his voice slightly annoyed. “My ass is freezing and I’d very much like to take the smurf out.”

“I’m all for it, you have a go, old man,” Sombra agreed.

“Jackie, no. No. We need her.”

“Close the door on him.”

“Ay.”

“Sombra!”

It was a bit unnerving, how Jack and Sombra found a common ground in wanting to get rid of Amelie.

“The turrets are down.”

“Yes, the smurf is going down.”

“Jackie.” Gabirel groaned.

“The smurf is ready to take the shot. Better safe than sorry.”

“And the alarm is on, right on cue. Anciano, shoot.”

“No, we are not shooting Widowmaker!”

*

Winston tweaked the code.

“Athena, run it.”

“Of course, Winston.” The map blinked with several bright points. Most of them were in one place, but one…

“What is Soldier doing in Siberia?”

“He left yesterday, citing ‘personal business, fuck off’.”

“Huh.”

“And then, citing again, ‘I’ll fucking bury the smurf’.”

*

“She will sit on the perimeter. That means no shooting Amelie, Jackie.”

“My finger might just slip.”

“And it’s freezing outside, it would be only natural for an old man to shake more than… oh, dios mio, I’m dying here!”

“It was funny,” Gabriel had to admit.

“Estupido, he just… he just flailed and walked into the mech face first.”

“Really, Gabe?”

“The mudak.”

“You mean the ruskie not the edge owl?”

“Si.”

“Stop chatting, and pay some attention to what’s going on. You’re up, Sombra.” Gabriel groaned. There went his ribs. Again.

“Yes, yes, send the gran chica to do what two old men are apparently too old to do by themselves,” Sombra laughed.

“It’s called playing it believable.”

*

“Ah, Genji,” Winston waved him over and the cyborg raised an eyebrow. “Tell me, do you know why Soldier travelled to Siberia?”

“Really?” Genji considered hard between telling truth, lying and running. Thankfully, he faked obliviousness really well. More so with a visor over his face. “He did say he had someone… I mean, something to take care of. Personal business.”

“Did he say anything else?”

“By the way, I need to request some personal leave effective immediately. I have to visit my brother. I bought the tickets already.” Running it was. “I need to pack up.”

*

“Grumps, could you take care of the mechs? They are shooting at me,” Sombra managed a proper scandalized voice. “Me!”

“One very dead mech coming up. Status?”

“Are we sure this is military plant not some fetish place? I’m going up in a giant fist.”

Jack snorted over the comm.

“No, Jackie, don’t you da…”

“Falcon punch!”

“Bro fist, anciano!”

Gabriel fought the urge to just let himself be stomped by the machine into unconsciousness. They were bonding. Why was this his life now?

*

“You going somewhere?” Jesse gazed inquisitively at Genji, noticing how, at the moment, the cyborg wore an oversized pair of pants and a hoodie, not mentioning the backpack and the golf club bag. It was highly unusual.

“Winston. He’s asking Questions,” somehow, Genji managed to articulate the capital letter. “If anybody needs me, I’m in Hanamura visiting brother dearest.”

“Shit. The homicidal one?”

“The one and only,” Genji nodded.

“The one that looks like a very pissed off toad someone stepped on?”

“The very one. I have a plane to catch,” the cyborg checked around the corner. “Remember, if you want to live, keep your mouth shut.”

“Dude, seriously, I’m not that stupid. He would kill us. And then kill us again.”

“My point exactly.”

“Dude,” Jesse understood that nagging feeling, “are those my pants?”

“Finders-keepers. Ja ne!”

*

“Ah, you have no idea what it took for me to make this meeting happen!” Sombra chuckled.

“Apparently, since it involves having me sit in the fucking snow, freeze my fingers off, and keep an eye on the smurf, and I think she just moved…”

“No, Jackie, she’s just breathing, no shooting! Sombra, status!”

Sombra switched off her communicator. Let them bicker on their own.

“Did… did she just fucking mute me? She did fucking mute me!”

“Breathe, baby.”

“I’m not fucking going to breathe now!”

*

“Hana, Lucio,” Winston hovered over them while they battled their Pokemon, ”do you know why Soldier left for Siberia?”

“Nope! But he’s not going to get cold, I gave him new sweater!” The gorilla shuddered. If it was anything like the one before it, it was a pure unadulterated cruelty.

“And he got a shirt and warm socks from me!” Lucio added.

*

“Mission failed. Target escaped.”

“Get back to the ship,” Gabirel really tried to bring out the negative feelings – hard when everything went according to the plan. Maybe except those ribs, but he was getting used to it.

“My ass is a fucking ice cube.”

“That means it retains its natural shape, abuelo,” Sombra giggled. “You go have fun, both of you, I’ll keep arana some company.”

“Fuck you, I could be your fucking father!” Jack sneered, getting up.

“That’s the point, anciano.”

Well, shit. If the muffled screaming was any clue, at that very moment they were out of things for Jack to blow up.

*

“Lena, do you have a second?”

“Wat’cha need, Winston, luv?” Tracer blinked in, mouth full of chips.

“Do you, by any chance, know why Soldier is in Siberia?”

“Oh, that’s an easy one, luv! He’s blowing up ruskies!”

Winston stared at her.

“You know, the pinkos, the reds?”

“Could you…?”

“Ivans?” Lena shrugged. “Bloody Russian communist menace?”

“Ah. Thank you.”

*

It took two hours, a broken lamp and a tv thrown through a thankfully open window to talk Jack down from fuming this time.

Last time he fumed that long, he took out entire terrorist operation single-handedly with half of the operatives throwing away their guns and surrendering on the spot. Seeing your co-worker bludgeoned with a table – a table of all things – repeatedly, by a man screaming obscenities, tended to do that to people.

Not that Gabriel complained – it made for a captivating sight – he just had to make sure he kept out of the blonde’s reach. Which didn’t help much when Jack decided to throw the damn table with force enough to make it embed in the wall. He made sure none of it made into the official report, no matter how amusing the whole affair was.

It certainly did put a fear of Jack into Jesse, who muttered later that if that was how Overwatch operated, he was thankful to be Blackwatch.

But now, he had his lap full of a wickedly grinning man, and damn, did he love that toothy smile.

“What the fuck are you thinking about?” Jack wriggled , the movement eliciting a gasp from both of them.

“The table incident,” Gabriel chuckled, returning his mouth to the pale neck. “The one in Madrid.”

“He fucking deserved it, and you, ah, fucking know it,” Jack moved again, biting his lip. “Fucker shot you…”

“He grazed my vest, Jackie.”

“My point, mhm, stands. He might have hit,” Jack mused, rolling his hips lightly.

“Fuck, Jackie, you’re…” And they both turned to the side with their pistols trained on target when the doors creaked. Sombra walked briskly to the lump of forgotten clothing, not paying them any attention.

Gabriel hemmed lightly as she rummaged through the pile and then pulled out the pink sweater with D.Va’s portrait and neat stitched ‘beloved daughter’ below.

Jack was staring with a look of deep traumatized confusion, and Gabriel did a double take when she put the article to her face and inhaled deeply.

“Oh, don’t mind me, abuelos, don’t stop on my account,” she gave them a twirl with fingers and turned on her heels.

“…what the fuck was that…?”

“I have no… I might have some idea,” Gabriel had to admit, but, damn, that woman, she had absolutely no shame whatsoever. They really, really had to have that talk about boundaries, he thought, as Jack rolled off of him to the side of the bed.

“…definitely not in the mood anymore.”

“Neither.”

“I need a fucking drink.”

“There’s a bar downstairs.”

“Do they serve bleach?”

“If they don’t, I’ll make them, Jackie.”

*

“Oh, no, you lost it again,” Hana did look heartbroken. But then, she was good at looking heartbroken. “What happened this time, dad?”

Jack tensed for a second. And then answered with a voice of a man that had seen the horrors of war.

“Sombra took it. Don’t even fucking ask.”