#Try to Watch This Without Laughing or Grinning 76 (REACT)

[neonganymede]

"Boo" and "I thought you were dead". Reaper76 😘

Okay! Let’s hope I do justice to these two. But these two prompts just scream Reaper76, so I’m ready.

Btw, this really got away from me. I don’t know what happened, but it was a ride that I really enjoyed. 

48. “Boo.”

29. “I thought you were dead.”

Jack took aim at the training bot, entirely focused. It waslate, and he was still running high on adrenaline from today’s mission againstthe omnics. He took a deep breath, about to shoot, when two arms wrapped aroundhim.

“Boo!”

Jack responded instinctively, trying to throw what he perceivedas an attacker, but he was pinned to the ground before he could get a properhold on his enemy. He stared up into familiar brown eyes and felt his body beginto react. Gabriel grinned down at him, pleased to have caught him off guard,but Jack just gave him a stern look.

“You know better than to sneak up on an armed man. I could’veshot you!”

“Nothing Angela wouldn’t be able to fix up,” Gabe said,shrugging with nonchalance, still wearing that infuriating smile. Jack wantedto lean up and bite at it.

“And then we would’ve had to explain again why I put a bulletin you.” Jack tried to sit up, but Gabe leaned more weight on him to keep himdown. Jack relaxed, accepting this, and waited for Gabe to be done with him(though he knew from experience that this could take some time). “You’re goingto make people wonder why you stay with somebody who hurts you so often.”

“It’s none of their business. Besides, it’s not that often.”

“Just when you sneak up on me.” Jack couldn’t help smiling alittle. If Gabe was sneaking up on him, that must mean that it was time toleave the training center and let his partner unwind him instead. Gabriel’smethods were, admittedly, much more effective than shooting at training bots. “Didyou finish lecturing McCree?”

Gabe rolled his eyes. “I don’t want to talk about that rightnow.”

“Oh, it went that well?” Jack smirked at the sound of his partner’sscoff. “Okay, fine. What do you want to talk about?”

Gabriel braced himself above Jack and leaned down closer, hisbreath warm against Jack’s cheeks. Jack’s eyes began to slide closed inanticipation, and he could all but taste Gabriel’s next words. “Now, Strike CommanderMorrison… Who said anything about talking?”

Soldier: 76jerked awake, the memory of Gabriel’s lips on his own a ghost in the night. Hesat up, grunting as the weight of his rifle shifted on his shoulder, leavingsoreness in its wake. He felt bone-weary and exhausted, more in his mind thananything, and the last thing he’d needed was the tease of the past depriving himof restless slumber.

The skies ofDorado were dark and clear, cloudlessness giving way to the glory of thehalf-moon. He wasn’t sure why he was still here, save for lack of direction. Hehad no destination, no ambitions fora destination, and wandering for so long had begun to take its toll on him.

Not tomention lack of a proper bed.

76 stood up,his joints cracking from the uncomfortable position, and turned to glare at thealley corner he’d been resting in. Already, he couldn’t believe he’d managedeven a few hours of sleep in such an uncomfortable spot. Years on the roadwould do that to you, he supposed.

He began towalk toward the alley entrance, pausing once to stare at the old, tattered Overwatchad, crinkling at the corners and threatening to fall away. He stared at the blondcentered in the poster, long coat billowing in a moment of wind. A hero, urgingpeople to join.

A joke.

76 grabbedthe poster and ripped it from the stone, tore it to pieces, and tossed it tothe gravel, making sure to step on the shreds on his way out. There was no needfor an advertisement anymore. Overwatch was dead,and it should stay dead.

The same waythe blond man on the poster should have stayed dead.

76 wastired. So tired. He slouched as hewalked, not too sure where his feet were carrying him and too damn drained tocare. His pulse rifle was so heavy—it was a part of him now, and leaving itbehind would be akin to suffocating. He didn’t think he knew how to breathe withoutit anymore.

Maybe theday would come when someone would take it from him, and he could stop. Stopbreathing, stop wandering, endlessly,pointlessly.

Alone. Thatwas his penance. He deserved this.

At least,that was what 76 kept telling himself to keep his feet moving, one step at atime.

76 shouldn’thave been traveling when he was so tired, though. Not when he had to struggleto keep his eyes open, let alone pay attention to his surroundings. He kept tothe alleyways, to the shadows, in search for another spot to rest his eyes.

He was so tired,he didn’t notice the footsteps behind him. Several sets moving quietly,accustomed to the streets of Dorado in a way that 76 was not. Just a few thugs,but ones that had the element of surprise.

The momenthe realized he was being followed, the gang struck, knocking him from his feetand kicking away his rifle. He rolled away from an oncoming boot aimed at his stomachand reached for his gun, only for a foot to come down on his hand. He groundhis teeth against the pain and glared up at the man.

“Nice gunyou got there, old man,” the thug said thoughtfully, his eyes straying from 76 tothe pulse rifle.

76 scoffed. “That’snot a gun you could handle, punk.”

“I don’treally think that’s any of your concern anymore. Right, boys?”

76 glancedover his shoulder, taking stock. There were four of them, including the assholestepping on his hand, and 76 didn’t have his gun. Only a slight disadvantage.

He grabbedthe thug’s ankle and squeezed until he stepped back, and then 76 was on hisfeet. Almost immediately, the other three were on him, knives flying out tofind purchase in his flesh. He deflected the first, redirecting it to plungeinto his friend’s gut. The injured one dropped his knife, and 76 rolled to grabit. In the process, he crashed into the third thug, dropping him to the ground,and plunged his newly acquired blade into his chest. The kid groaned in pain,blood gurgling up to his lips, but 76 didn’t stay to watch the light leave hiseyes.

By now, thefirst thug had recovered and started toward him, knife raised and red with hiscompanion’s blood. 76 caught his wrist, bending it back until he dropped theweapon, and fell him to the gravel with a few choice punches to his gut.

Then heturned, his eyes finding the barrel of his own gun pointed to his face. Theleader had foregone his thugs in favor of 76’s weapon, and Soldier realized itdidn’t matter if the kickback knocked him to the ground. That wouldn’t keep 76from eating bullets, not at this range.

Did 76 haveany regrets? A few. Dying in a dirty alleyway in Dorado was definitely one ofthem, but he didn’t feel like he had any control over his fate. Not anymore.

He glared athis pulse rifle, his mind straying to his memory in what he thought would behis last moments. To the taste of Gabriel’s laugh on his tongue, the feel ofhis hands carding through his blond hair. To the sounds of his taunts as he snuckup behind him, risked getting shotjust to get Jack in his arms.

Gabriel. Gabriel was his one regret, and hecouldn’t do a damn thing about it.

The thugsmirked, having seen 76’s resignation. His finger moved toward the trigger.Then—

“Boo!”

The thugdropped, his neck snapped, and 76 caught his rifle. He rolled and aimed at thenew arrival, his heart thundering at the sight of the Reaper. The wraith wastedno time in pulling out his shotguns, ready for the impending fight that 76 wasanticipating.

Somethingkept him from firing outright, though, and led him, instead, to lowering hisgun. He stared up at Reaper, who was regarding him curiously with aim that didnot falter.

“Why?” 76demanded tiredly.

“Maybe Iwant to be the one who ends you,” Reaper growled, his voice sliding over 76 andmaking him shiver. Reaper sounded nothing like Gabriel, far too brash, too guttural.Then again, 76 doubted like he sounded much like Strike Commander Morrison, either.

76 slumpedback against the wall, his rifle resting in his lap. “Well, here’s your chance.Go for it.”

“You’re notgoing to fight me?” Reaper asked, mildly disappointed.

“Tired offighting.” 76 was just tired in general. He didn’t want to fight Reaper, not withthe memory of who was behind that mask still so fresh in his mind.

Reapercautiously lowered his shotguns. “I’ve waited a long time to kill you, and you’retaking the fun out of it. What’s wrong with you? I’ve never known Strike Commander Morrison to take itlying down. Outside of the bedroom, that is.”

76 stared upat him, frustrated at the familiarity of this conversation. Gabriel would’ve saidthe same thing to him—probably had,in fact—and just then, he couldn’t take it. Not with the night he’d beenhaving. He reached up and removed his visor, blinking to reacclimate to the worldwithout the red, and dropped it to his side.

“Was it allso bad?” he asked, weary. When Reaper tilted his head to the side, 76 gestured betweenthe two of them. “Before it all went wrong, was it all really that bad?”

Reaperstared at him for a long moment. 76 couldn’t see his eyes, but he could feel them scrutinizing him cautiously.Like this was all a trick, and 76 was about to start firing any minute. Deliberately,76 took his hand off his gun and let it fall to his side, a mirror of the onestill holding the visor.

A long timeago, he never would’ve thought twice about being so vulnerable in the presenceof Gabriel Reyes, but this was no longer the Gabriel he had once known. Then again,the same could be said for 76.

Finally,Reaper snarled, low and angry, “Why didn’t you look for me?”

“I thought you were dead!” 76 glared up at him, fire rising up within him. Tossinghis gun to his side, he stood up, pointing an accusing finger at Reaper. “You thinkI wouldn’t have looked for you if I had any idea you were alive? Do you reallythink so little of me, Reyes?!”

Reaper tooka step back, having not expected his outburst. He dropped his guns, his breatha rumble of fury as he rose to the challenge. He grabbed 76 by the front of hisjacket and shoved him up against the wall, almost knocking the wind right outof him. “You really expect me to believe you didn’t know? Don’t make me laugh,Jack.”

76 reachedup to grab Reaper’s wrists, squeezing them tightly and hating how familiar thisall felt. He couldn’t get his head out of the past tonight, so it only feltnatural to yank Reaper just a little closer. He stared into the face of themask, trying to imagine those big, brown eyes that Jack used to stare into forhours.

“JackMorrison died the same day that Gabriel Reyes did.”

Reaper releaseda long, heavy breath that 76 almost took for a sigh of relief. He leaned forward,pressing in on 76 and boxing him in. 76 should’ve felt threatened, caged, but hedidn’t. He actually felt like he could breathe for the first time in years.

“Jack.”Reaper was close, too close, all 76 could do was try to pull him closer. “Closeyour eyes.”

76 thoughtto argue. He should’ve argued. Thiswas Reaper, his enemy, who he should’vebeen fighting with. Instead, they were having a heart-to-heart chat, and now he was being asked to give trust hedidn’t think Reaper had truly earned.

76 didn’targue. He shut his eyes and waited. For what, he wasn’t sure, but he was so tired. Too tired to argue. Too tired todo anything but stand there and take whatever Reaper intended to give him.

What he hadn’t been expecting, however, was akiss.

Reaper’smouth was cold and aggressive, not warm and soft as 76 remembered. 76 grabbed hisshoulder, thinking he should push him away, but only yanked him closer. Hepulled Reaper’s icy body tight against his and took everything he could get.

And he got so much. 76 had forgotten just how aggressiveGabriel could be, how dominating, and how desperatefor it 76 had been. 76 was pliant, caught between the wall and a hard place andpretty sure there was no other spot he’d rather be.

When Reaperpulled away, he reached up to cover 76’s eyes with one black-gloved hand. “Idon’t want you to see me.”

“I let yousee me, and I look like shit.”

Reaperscoffed. “I look worse.”

“I don’t care.I want to see you.”

“What makesyou think I care what you want?”

“You neverchange,” said 76, realizing all at once the truth of that statement.

Reaperdisagreed. “Maybe I’ve changed too much.”

All at once,76 was alone. He opened his eyes to see Reaper bending to pick up his shotguns,his mask back in place and leaving 76 with a pang of bitter emptiness. He didn’tmove, just watched Reaper stow away his weapons and turn slowly back to him.

“You’dbetter be ready next time we meet, Jack. I won’t spare you again.”

76 bent toretrieve his own mask, sliding it back into place. “Maybe you should trysneaking up on me. That always worked sowell for you, Gabe.”

Reaperlaughed, a low, ominous noise that rubbed 76 in all the right ways. 76 had tofight the urge to go toward him again.

But thenReaper was gone, leaving 76 completely alone, save for the dead thugs who hadpicked a fight with the wrong man. With a chuckle of his own, 76 reached downto pick up his rifle, less tired, less breathless now. He glanced over thebodies, a smirk on his lips as he shouldered his rifle and began walking again.

Stupidpunks. If only they’d known that 76 had a ghost on his trail, and that ghostwould stop at nothing to keep the soldier all to himself.

[team-fartress-over-crotch-blog]

Oo! How would the Overwatch dudes react to that child prompt! I dunno how many are in there uhhh. Maybe your 5 favorites?

Sorry these aren’t exactly drabbles, but my internet crashed when I was in the middle of writing them! So i had to start from scratch and just basically wrote down the important parts. I hope you enjoy!

Junkrat:

He’d be jumped and rolling on roofs, striking his enemies from above.

His simmering hair flowing in the wind, his smile never fading and bombs ablaze.

He’s a happy boy.

Until he trips over something and lands face first on the hard concrete. Possibly loses a tooth or two.

Once he’s up and ready to bounce back, he sees the source of his spectacular fall.

A child!

“Oi! Whatcha coin’ ‘ere?” He’d shout, squatting to be eye level with the child.

The child only laughs at his funny accent, much to Junkrat’s displeasure.

When there’s no one other than him and the child in sight, he resorts to getting them back to safety.

Junkrat reluctantly picks the child up awkwardly by their arm and cradles them like a baby.

He stands at the edge of the roof, trying to find a soft landing.

He grins evilly and pats the child’s head. “Hang in there, this is gonna be one BUMPY ride!”

That was his only warning before Junkrat performs a perfect swan dive off the building.

“ROADIE, CATCH ME!”

Roadhog is conviently beneath Junkrat and catches them in a split second.

Roadhog is SHOOK to see Junkrat carrying a small human but wastes no time to get them to a safe place.

The child is crying loudly from Junkrats 10/10 swan dive. (Someone draw that PLEA-)

The two adults comfort the child with silly voices and faces, Junkrat even takes off his filthy sock and turns it into a puppet.

Once the battle is over Tracer finds the trio goofing off.

She promptly takes the child into her own arms while Junkrat and Roadhog follow closely behind, watching every step Tracer takes with the child in hand.

The junkers stay with the child until the parents show up. They all give a tearful goodbye.

Roadhog:

He’d just decimated a whole field of enemies.

He was the only one standing in the small section he dominated.

With a silent sigh, Roadhog sat down for a rest.

Damn, killing people took a shit ton of energy out of him.

It was a beautiful day with warm breezes and a shining sun. It was perfect.

Roadhog shifted in his place and gazed up at the cloudy sky.

Just as he got comfortable, a tiny hand tugged at the side of his mask.

Within a quick second, Roadhog was on his feet, his hook pointed towards whatever creature touched him.

He lets out a soft gasp when he sees that it’s only a child.

They stand there for awhile, examining each other, trying to figure out what to do in this particular situation.

However, the child was not at all interested in Roadhog and was instead fascinated by the hook in front of them.

Roadhog grunts and puts away his hook, silently motioning for the child to follow him.

They walk for a while, Roadhog made sure to take detours around the carnage.

The child would stop and stare at butterflies or pretty flowers, making small conversation about them.

Roadhog was very patient, silently nodding along or giving the child names of whatever they were curious about.

Roadhog sighed in relief when he found Soldier 76 running past him.

Thinking on his feet, Roadhog hooked him and caught him by the collar.

Solider 76 scolded Roadhog until his eyes landed on the child, quickly changing his tone.

Roadhog vaguely explained the situation and darted back into battle, knowing he’d get attached if he stayed any longer.

He never found out what had happened to the child, but he knew they were safe as long as they didn’t stick around him.

Genji:

The battle was long and merciless. Everywhere he turned was another enemy attempting to harm him.

He considered himself lucky for finding a small building to seek refuge in.

Through the sweat and heavy breaths, Genji was finally able to relax.

He needed healing, fast.

Genji clung to his side, a long gash was bleeding profusely from a bullet that lodged itself just under his ribcage.

His eyelids slid, threatening to close. Before he could drift off to sleep, a dark figure darted across his blurry vision.

Preparing for the worst, Genji gently held his blade, ready to fight.

The figure darted closer and closer. Just as the shadow slithered inches away from his face, Genji yelled and pointed his sword at the nose of the creature.

An explosion nearby lit up the entire room, exposing the shadow to be nothing but a child. Shivering and scared.

Genji sheathed his sword and sighed. There was no danger, just a kid.

Despite the blade that was aimed in between their eyes, the child sat down next to Genji.

Genji glowed ever so slightly, trying to comfort the child from the dark.

“Don’t you know it is dangerous around here?” Genji softly whispered, letting the child rest their head on his shoulder.

The child didn’t seem to have heard him and began tracing the patterns of Genji’s glowing armor.

The gentle touches soothed Genji, but knew he had to move quickly in order to ensure both of their safety.

With the little strength Genji had left, he managed to lift the child up in one arm and held his blade in the other.

“Close your eyes, little one.” He told the child, not wanting them to see the chaos outside.

Genji took off like a bullet, darting out of the door and straight into battle.

The battlefield was nearly empty and Genji was grateful for that.

It didn’t take him long to find Mercy, she was in the middle of healing a teammate when Genji shouted his lungs out for her.

The moment she saw Genji with the child she quickly covered them.

“Take the child and go! I’ll protect you.” Genji screams, deflecting oncoming bullets.

Mercy nods and leaves for the base with the child in her arms.

After the battle, Genji’s first action was to ask about the child.

He had been informed that the parents came to pick them up, much to his relief.

He’ll probably never forget them.

Zenyatta:

Precious Zenyatta is making rounds around the battlefield, helping wherever he can.

After obliterating an enemy, he notices a small rabbit toy on the ground.

He’d pick it up, examining the dirty plush, wondering how it got there.

His mechanics would whirr in surprise as he feels a tug at his pants from behind. (ROBOT BOOTY)

Zenyatta turns slowly and stiffens when he sees a tiny kid with their palm open.

“Does this toy belong to you, child?”

The child nods and reaches for their precious animal.

Zenyatta wouldn’t give it back and instead lift the child onto their lap.

A smile appears on the child as they hugged their bunny, oblivious to Zenyatta floating away from the bloody scene.

As he approaches the main battle, he’d float above them and with a booming voice, he yells “Child on the field! Cease your fire so this child may have a safe passage.”

After he was sure he had caught everyone’s attention, Zenyatta lowed himself to the ground.

He walked calmly towards Soldier 76, informing the old man that he would be leaving the battle to help the child find their parents.

Soldier 76 was too stunned to say no and let Zenyatta cross the field without any trouble.

Whatever happened after Zenyatta left had not worried him, for he was far too busy figuring out where the child had come from.

He’d ask the child from time to time what seemed familiar and where to turn and such.

The child was surprisingly reliable and seemed to enjoy themselves.

He’d entertain the child with silly conversation, asking them questions and receiving long thoughtful answers. He’d even take the bunny into his own hands and make it talk and move, which seemed to have gained the most applause from the child.

Zenyatta hadn’t realized that he nearly passed the parents until the couple screamed the child’s name.

Upon hearing their name, the kid jumped down from Zenyatta’s lap and ran to their parents.

Zenyatta was enlightened that they had reunited with one another. But knowing that his job was done he started the long way back to battle.

A familiar tugging from behind caught his attention.

It was the child, who wanted to say goodbye.

They embarked and finally, went their separate ways.

Mcree:

Smoke sizzled from Mcree’s barrel but was quickly blown away by the Cowboy.

A smirk of triumph swept across his face, only for his lips to drop into a frown a second later.

Someone was watching him, but who?

Mcree pivoted on his heel, stopping when he caught sight of a child.

“What in Sam Hill…” Mcree wondered aloud, scratching his head with the gun in hand.

When Mcree finally got over the initial shock he walked over to the child sitting on a barrel.

“What do you think you’re doing here, kid?”

The kid kicked their feet and shrugged, making Mcree sigh and shake his head.

What a day.

Without another word, Mcree lifted under his arm and began walking.

He knew better than to leave the kid sitting around in an area like this.

Mcree had managed to dodge, duck and deflect every bullet or flying debris they came across, yelling at everyone and everything to be careful because there is a baby on board.

He’d cuss from time to time, earning a look of disapproval and a scolding from the child tightly clutched under Mcree’s arm.

Finally, they appeared to be in the clear.

Not an enemy in sight, nor any other living being.

But Mcree wouldn’t give up until the child was in the safe hands of their parents.

The both of them walked into an abandoned town, no doubt everyone had evacuated due to the battle.

Mcree felt the stinging sensation of guilt but quickly shook it off when the child started talking.

“Why do I wear this funny lookin’ hat? Well, have I got a story for you…”

The child was thoroughly entertained by the history of cowboys and rodeos, making sounds of awe.

While Mcree may or may not have noticed but he was smiling too, reliving his childhood through the kid’s eyes.

Mcree even went as far to propping the kid on his shoulders and running to feed their imagination.

It had been about 5 minutes of running and goofing that Mcree heard people shouting.

The child perked up and laughed, shouting back at the voices.

Mcree lowered the child back onto the ground, letting them lead the way.

Two adults finally came into view and the child was more than happy to bound over to them with open arms.

Mcree smiled and tipped his hat to the kid as a form of goodbye.

The child smiled back and waved to the cowboy, never forgetting this experience.

*In later years*

The tv droned on. There wasn’t a lot to do. Mcree just sits back and relaxes most of the week.

Mcree took a sip of his coffee and continued to read the daily news, the tv still on and mumbling shit he didn’t care about.

However, the mention of a rodeo made Mcree look up. He hadn’t heard of rodeos in a long, long time, so this was interesting.

The announcer stated that a young person had brought back the old rodeo lifestyle and had raised enough money to make performances in the local convention hall.

Mcree watched on, fascinated and delighted. Although, there was something familiar about the person behind all this.

That’s when it clicked.

When the first performance was over, Mcree recognized the face.

It was the child who he had saved so long ago.

Apparently, they loved his little stories so much that they had dedicated a lot of their life it.

Mcree smiled and tipped his hat off to the tv, writing down every bit of information about when and where the next show was taking place.

“I’m proud of you, kiddo.”

[zenyattayatta]

Can i request Reader and 76 cuddling after a tickle fight and reader finally says i love you and hides they face?

Tickle Fights

Soldier X Reader

Author’s Note: Rip me i love writing long stories. Hope you enjoy and sorry it look a while!

Right hook, left hook,kick!

Your eyes remained trained of the dummy ahead of you. Fistsballed together, feet shuffling in anticipation as you use your weight to focuson the power of your attacks. You repeated the mantra in your head over andover while continuing to strike at the dummy.

Kick!

“Knew I find you here.”

Your body tensed in surprise at the voice. The center ofyour balance faltered as your foot made uneven contact with its target. Beforeyou knew it the ground greeted you none too kindly. A spike of pain running upand through your spine as you landed harshly on your rear end. A groan escaped yourlips adjusting to lighten the pain.

“Whoa, didn’t mean to scare you.” Soldier chuckled havingseen the spectacle play out.

Swiftly, he moved over to you before squatting closely infront of you. “You alright, sweetheart?” Jack’s hands roam to gently touch atyour ankles. He looks over your legs, then back at your ankles checking for swellingor redness.

“Jack, I’m fine.” You assure him, slightly wiggling awayfrom his grasp. “I could have done without the heart attack though. Thanks forthat.” He smiles at you sheepishly while rubbing his thumb over your ankleaffectionately. A small silent display of affection. You’ve noticed he tends todo that since you’ve begun dating months ago.

“Come on,” Soldier heaves himself up while extending hishand to you. “Let’s get you up.”

You smile at him, admiring the tired blue eyes that adornhis handsome face. However, something in you stirs. You take his hand in yours beforea plan begins forming within your head.

It’s then the air shifts.

However, he’s noticed too late.

A mischievous smile comes to play as you use his weightagainst him. It happens suddenly. You hook your knee’s behind him pushing themforward. The older man is knocked off his feet quite literally. Gravity workingits magic to pull him down on the mat straight flat on his back. You come to straddlehim triumphally as he groans from the force of the unsuspecting fall.

“Careful,” He jokes. “These old bones aren’t what they usedto be.” He means it with little seriousness, but he’s sure one day your ‘fun’ anticswill get him hurt. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t look forward to it.

With a gentle laugh, you reply. “That hasn’t stopped youbefore.” Color immediately flushes to his cheeks and he frowns. “Aw come on,Jack.” You lean forward. “Smile for me.” You laugh, poking at his side andquickly moves to react.

The action causes you to lean back with a raised a brow. Immediatelyhe begins to squirm under you. Desperately trying to get away. You add morepressure to where you sit and the friction causes him to still. Once more you goto poke at his sides and you smile when his face turns red.

“Jack…” You sing, wiggling your fingers over to hisunderarms. “Are you ticklish?”

The way he avoids your gaze speaks more than his silence.His face is red as he tries hard not to burst into a fit of giggles.  

Now, that won’t do.

You wiggle your fingers from his underarms to his collarbone then to his neck. Immediately he snaps down on your wondering hand. Theoffending fingers now trapped between his chin and his shoulder while he glaresat you.

“Don’t.” He warns, chest heaving. He’s struggling to stayserious as your fingers still tickle his neck. You know he won’t hold out forlong. Not with you.

“Don’t know what you mean, Hun.” There’s pause between youtoo. A stare down as he watches you carefully. He lifts his chin off your handand you smile at him innocently.

That is, before all hell breaks loose and you rain yourassault of tickles on the man under you. Both hands go to tickle him. One onhis neck, the other works his sides. He’s knew it was coming but something inhim is still caught off guard. The stoic face you’ve come to know turns into ahuge grin and gruff laughter begins rumble underneath you. It’s almost odd insome way. The way his face lights up as he is on the verge of tears in a laughingfit.

You decide you like more than anything. No, wait. You love it.

He has the most adorable smiley eyes and biggest grin tomatch. It’s so captivating in its own manner that you catch yourself staringonce again.

You love this man like no other.

He notices your slight distraction and just as fast he isnow on top of you. Your positions switched as fast as you can blink. He’s pantingbut the smile still decorates his roguish face. You look at him carefully.Cherishing the moment while it lasts.

“Two can play at that game, sweet pea.” He smirks and youfeel a tingle crawl up your sides. You start squirming as his hands begin totickle about your body. He laughs as you try to return the action but hardlysucceed under his grasp. Eventually, you’re a mess of laughter and snorts. Begginghim to have mercy on you.

“Stop! I’m going to pee!” You yelp through giggles. Helaughs over you, coming to rest his hands on either side of you. Carefully heleans down to press a chaste kiss on your lips. A truce of sorts for themeantime. He lifts up and off to lay next to you on the training mat, legsstill tangled together.

There is nothing but gasps for breath and loose laughter asyou two try to steady your breathing. The room is warm and a blush dusts overyour skin as you look over to him. He’s chuckling with you and you can’t helpbut stare so captivated by his smile once more. It’s without a thought that youopen your mouth and confess your thoughts out loud.

“I love you.”

He stops. “What did you say?”

Realization hits you and you quickly untangle your legs fromhim. Your hands come up to cover your face. The room feels warmer as you sit uptrying to get away from him. A array of emotions run through you as you canquite comprehend how you feel. Was this too sudden? Was this a bad time? Doeshe love you as well?

He follows you up, bringing his hands to cup yours over yourface.

You protest. Too suborn to uncover your blushing face. “I’msorry.”

He leans in, pulling you towards him. “No, don’t be.” Hetries at your hands again wanting to see you. Tenderly, he holds them for a momentbefore you finally let him.

You feel so vulnerable. So exposed to him.

“I just…I love seeing you so happy. I couldn’t help it. Thewords fell out my mouth before I could stop them. I’m sorry.” It’s so mucheasier to read his emotions without the mask. He looks just as vulnerable asyou. It’s reassuring in its own regard but it does little to easy your nerves. Hechuckles, the sound making you look up at him.

“God, you’re too good to me.” He sighs, relieved. “I loveyou too.”

Before you can manage a word, he captures you in a kiss. Hishands moving to pull you into his lap in the process. “I love you so much.” Hestops but continues to pepper kisses among your face. His stubble tickling you ever so lightly. “I can’t believe I’vewaited so long to say it.”

Whatever unnerving emotion you’ve felt before is taken overby the tenderness of his actions. He holds you close. Just as happy and contentas he was when you tickled him to tears. Minutes pass as you both hold oneanother, planting innocent kisses on each other’s lips. Eventually, he pullsaway to sit up. You’re a little upset at the loss of affection but he gives youa smile in apology.

“Come on, let’s go get something to eat.” He speaks softlybefore kissing the tip of your nose. He lifts you onto your feet, keeping his handaround your waist. You replicate the action while walking next to him. It’s a fewsteps out the training halls door that your hands snake up a little higher topoke at his side.

“Stop.” He grunts.

You laugh. “Alright, alright. Sorry.”

[puckish-saint]

Hi there! Could I request Genji, McCree, Soldier: 76, and Hanzo's reactions to accidentally hurting their S/O while training with them? Thank you so very much!

Genji

You've had your share of embarrassinginjuries. That time you and Genji took each one of Lùcio's skatesand rolled down the near vertical slope from the watchpoint toGibraltar proper. Or that time Genji bet you you couldn't shoothanging upside down from a tree and you banged your head when thebranch broke. Or when Genji and you begged Zarya to let you try herparticle cannon and almost brought down the roof when even yourcombined strength couldn't handle its weight.

You're beginning to see a commondenominator there.

“It was a training accident.” Genjisays as you enter the medbay leaning on him and hobbling as best youcan.

“Accident? You aimed for mybutt!”

Genji makes a scandalised noise andpresses his hand over his heart.

“I would never.” he says andlooks at Lùcio, who has this shift and already regrets it. “Iwouldn't do something like that to the love of my life.”

He raises an eyebrow, already knowingabout both your penchants for injury, and has you lie down on thebed.

“What happened?” he asks, though hecan guess from the way Genji keeps breaking into laughter, and thevery shiny shuriken stuck in your butt.

“Genji here.” you say with apointed look and a wince. “Bragged he could beat me with his eyesclosed.”

Genji is quick to throw in:“Technically I did.”

Lùcio counted on something like thishappening.

“And let me guess, you told him hecouldn't do that if your eyes were closed.”

“Come on, Luce. That'd just beirresponsible. One of us had to make sure no bystanders werewandering in.”

Lùcio breathes a sigh of relief.

“No, I said he couldn't do it with myarms tied behind my back.”

After a not very gentle care for yourinjury Genji accompanies you to the community kitchen. You'll have tohave your lunch standing up and apparently with the continuedrendition of Genji pretending to be you getting hit in the butt bysharp flying objects.

“That's not what I looked like.”you protest when Genji makes a face you usually only see in lowquality hentai and sinks to the ground with all the grace of a drunkswan.

“That's totally what you lookedlike.” he says from the floor and yelps when you kick him a little.

“You’re awful.” you say. “Alsoyou didn’t beat me.”

In hindsight maybe challenging is egoisn’t such a good idea. In further hindsight maybe it is.

“I so did! And I’ll prove it in arematch.”

“Oh, you’re on!”

McCree

The moment you set foot into the medbaywith sheepish grins on your faces, Angela knows what happened.

“Sparring accident?” she askstiredly and doesn’t even bat an eyelash when you show her the longgash on your forearm. She’s used to this.

About every other week you walk intoher clinic, each of you sporting various injuries. Jesse’s eyealready begins to swell shut from a well-placed right hook and shegives him some ice for it.

She gives her usual speech, that justbecause Reyes was in favour of full contact sparring doesn’t meanJesse has to continue that tradition, that there are rules inpractice fights and she’s not entirely sure what they are just thatyou’re probably breaking half of them, and that one of these daysone of you will get seriously hurt.

You both nod and look properly moroseand barely wait for the injury to heal before you go back in thering.

Jesse’s hand-to-hand combat is notthe best Blackwatch has ever produced, but he’s not shy to fightdirty. He uses the tricks he learned under Reyes, the best methods toend a fight quickly and without much harm, and combines them with theway he used to fight in his Deadlock days, ending fights quickly andnot caring about the damage. You have to think fast, react faster tokeep up with him and both of you are having too much fun to careabout the danger.

“Ow! Shit!”

“Damn it!”

Both of you stumble back, clutchingyour respective legs that bleed profusely. You tried the same thingat the same time and inconveniently didn’t think about defendingyourself from the very move you were attempting on the other. Bothland, both of your knives have left gaping holes in your upperthighs.“Aw, shucks.” Jesse says as he pokes at the frayedhole in his trousers. “Angie’s gonna be so mad this time.”

He’s still worrying at it when youcall his name, swaying on your feet.

“Jesse.” He looks up and pales. “Ithink you hit an artery.”

Angela is too busy keeping you frombleeding out to yell. Jack gladly takes over. He chews Jesse outfirst, threatens to kick him off the team, threatens to kick you bothoff the team, calls him a liability, reckless and less flatteringnames.

When you wake up he continues with you,more or less in the same vein as with Jesse, but gives up when herealises you’re too high on pain meds to care.

Jesse sits by your side like a kickedpuppy, hat in his lap, looking anywhere but at you.

“‘m real sorry.” he mumbles,doesn’t know how to apologise to someone he almost accidentallykilled. You try to pat his hand, miss thanks to the aforementionedpain meds, and end up consoling the bedside table instead.

“Don’t worry about it.” you sayand continue before he can argue: “We’ll be a little more carefulin the future, okay?”“Okay.” he says.

Three weeks later you’re in themedbay again. Sparring accident.

Angela says something about goodintentions and gets to work.

Soldier: 76

You argue all the way to the medbay.It’s loud enough to rouse even the latest sleepers from bed,sticking their heads through the door and shaking their heads andretreating when they see it’s just the two of you.

“Just admit that you made a mistake.”you say, using your good hand to hold down your injured arm thatkeeps twitching at random intervals. It’s like a painful hiccup inyour extremities and you’re looking forward to getting rid of it.

“I don’t make mistakes.” hegrowls. “You were careless and let your guard drop.”“Ididn’t drop a thing you pompous, self-important, arrogant- Oh, hiZen.” you say as the door to the medbay swooshes open and revealsZenyatta waiting patiently for your argument to end. “Didn’trealise you were on duty.”“Now you know. What brings youhere?”

You sit on the bed and let Zenyattaexamine your arm.

“One of the practice rounds got stuckin my arm. Now it’s doing this.” You gesture at the wild jerking.

“Those are not supposed to be capableof piercing skin.” Zenyatta says, finding the offending bulletquickly. “They do.” you say with a pointed look at Jack whodoesn’t hesitate to continue your argument. “If you shoot thempoint blank.”“Jack.”“You could have easily avoided ithad you not been so-!”“I told you I wasn’t careless! I cameup behind you, you got startled, you shot me. Just-”

“I didn’t get startled! You letyour guard down and I reminded you of the consequences-”

“By almost shooting my arm off?”“Nowyou’re just being dramat-”“Dramatic? Me? Who’s thefucking drama queen here who can’t even admit he made a simplestupid mis-”“Mistakes kill people!”Both you andZenyatta recoil from the sheer volume. Jack looks between the two ofyou, panicked like a child in front of angry adults. Then it’sgone, replaced by bone-tired weariness.

“I don’t make mistakes.” he sayswith as much force as he can manage and leaves before Zenyatta canfinish up on your arm.

Not surprisingly you find Jack at thetraining range, driving himself to exhaustion.

Everytime he misses a shot he makesAthena start the program over. A quick look to his statistics showshe has already beaten his own record twice. But now it’s alldownhill. His focus starts to slip, his arms must feel like jelly,even with the serum in his body.  

“My arm stopped twitching.” you saywhen you’re sure he’s aware of your presence. He shoots you alook, to determine if you’re telling the truth, then goes back toignoring you. One, two, three shots and he misses. Curses.Punches in the reset code and barely waits for the targets to get totheir positions before he starts shooting.

He gets to five this time before hemisses and before he can start again you bridge the distance betweenyou and wind the rifle out of his hands.

He flinches but doesn’t say anything,not even a half-hearted reprimand.

You don’t either, fear that it willjust flare up the argument again. Instead you rub his arms, pressyour thumbs into the palm of his hands to knead out the tension. Anormal person’s muscles would have started cramping. Not Jack. Hecan train until he drops dead.

You watch together as one of Athena’slittle helper bots moves onto the range to sweep up the leftoverbullet casings from the practice rounds. It takes minutes for it tofinish and only after it moves back into the underbelly of thewatchpoint Jack speaks up.

“I fucked up.” he admits, verysoftly but without hesitation. “You were right, you surprised mewith that ambush and I panicked. I shot before I confirmed my target.Thought you were one of the bots. Fucking rookie mistake. If that hadbeen live ammo, I-”“Shh.” you say, squeezing his hands. “Itwasn’t live ammo. And it wasn’t a rookie mistake. It could havehappened to anyone.”

“And what if it happens on thefield?” Jack tries to get away from you, but you hold on tighter,pull him into your arms instead. “How can I trust myself not tohurt my own team?”

“You can’t.”

He huffs at that, not a laugh yet butgetting there.

“At least you’re honest.”“I’mserious. Jack, look at me.” you say and cup his cheek to make himlook you in the eye. “There’s not a single mission where someonedoesn’t get hit by friendly fire at some point. Once Jesse combatrolled right into Hanzo and kicked his stomach so hard he rupturedhis appendix.”He chuckles, remembering that one. Back then itwas serious, everyone worried, angry, afraid that there might beinternal bleeding. Now you can laugh about it.

“Or remember when we had to pullLúcio up from the canyon wall because Fareeha timed her concussionblast wrong? And all of us were on the wrong end of Mei’scryo-blaster at least once. It happens. We can train and work hard tominimise the risk, but it will happen. You went what, thirty yearswithout it happening to you? With some luck you’ll go anotherthirty before you shoot me again.”

He nods, appeased although you can tellhe’s still beating himself up over it. Probably will for some time.But at least he’s willing to listen and tries to believe you. Afterall you’re right. If he could avoid taking accidental potshots athis teammates off for the better part of his life, it probably won’thappen again anytime soon.

(It does. A week later when you comeinto the medbay wheezing with laughter while Jack glares at you.)

Hanzo

You get a taste of his determinationeverytime you spar. No one can keep up with his drive to push himselfand his partner past the breaking point. There is a rigid schedule tohis training, calculated to the last second to maximise the gain. Asimple injury won’t stop him.

“I think that needs stitches.” yousay doubtfully, trying to gauge the size of the cut on your forehead.Blood runs into your eye, makes your vision hazy.

“You can get stitches afterwards.”he says and without further warning moves into the attack. You’reforced to go along with it, not entirely sure Hanzo wouldn’t justlay you out if you refused to defend yourself.

You block his punches as best you canbut the fire is gone.

“Focus.” he snaps when he beats youa second time.

“I’m bleeding from my head,darling.” you say, struggling to your feet and wiping the blood andsweat away.

“Irrelevant.”

Another round and the headache poundsagainst your temples. You barely take cover in time, get hit withanother of his attacks. A smaller gash draws a red line along yourshoulder and you hiss when he pulls you up.

“Again.”“No.”

He blinks as if he never fathomed youwould say no.

“Hanzo, I need to get that lookedat.”He protests, tries to push you towards the training mat.

“You had worse.”“That doesn’tmean it’s not bad.”“Your enemies won’t let you just walkaway because you don’t feel like-”“You’re not my enemy.”

That shuts him up. Not because herealises you are right, but because for a moment you weren’t. Hesteps back, gestures vaguely at the door and gives you permission toleave.

You do, feeling guilty that you’reglad he’s not accompanying you.

Your injuries are treated easily enoughand without stitches to boot. Pills take care of the headache, adecent wash removes the blood stains in your clothes. The icy silencebetween you and Hanzo is not so easily mended.

At several points throughout the nextdays you see Genji and Hanzo together, usually arguing. Even throughtheir rapid Japanese, muffled whenever they walk past someone whomight overhear, you glean that this is about the sparring accident.Genji gesticulates wildly, points towards his own head, then throwshis hands up in defeat when Hanzo replies with a few terse words.

But eventually some message seems toget through to him, because a week after Hanzo stands in yourdoorway, arms crossed over his chest and stares at a point somewhereto your left when he says: “I apologise for the way I treated youduring our training exercise. I should have shown more consideration.It will not happen again, as from now on I will be trainingalone.”“Once more with feeling?” you suggest drily and gaina murderous glare in return. Sighing you turn around in your chairand beckon him closer. He follows reluctantly, still won’t look atyou and is stiff and rigid when you wrap your arms around his waist.

“I don’t want to stop sparring withyou.” you say. “I just don’t want to hurt you. Or you to hurtme.”

“That was never my intention.” heargues weakly, finally looks at you. He reaches out, traces thehealing cut on your forehead.

“Then let me take care of ourinjuries next time. Promise you won’t push us too hard.”

A nod, barely perceptible, but youdon’t need more. Hanzo is a man of his word, even if it remainsunspoken.

He’s starting to learn that his lifelies no longer in his own hands. That even if there’s something hecan’t beat, he has you to help him.

[nikanono]

Fantasmas

Hi! I made another one of these. This fic was inspired by this drawing right here, I hope you enjoy!

________________________________________________________

“On my count,”

“Like hell I’m listening to some idiot hacker. We move in now. Engage.”

The squadron of Talon grunts moved forward as a cohesive unit, directly into a volley of bullets from the sentry turret’s she had “forgotten” to deactivate. A flurry of curses spilled over into her comm and she grinned at the mayhem she had caused.

“Now, who’s in charge again?”

“You dammit, just get rid of that fucking turret!”

“With pleasure.”

Sombra smiled as she tapped one of her holographic screens, causing a localized power shortage that took down the wall of sentries that sat in Talon’s way.

“Alright, your path is clear. Move in and take the left hand fork, their forces are less secure on that side.”

A few affirmative statements reached her ears as she continued to watch multiple feeds from the helmet cams of several soldiers as they raced through hallways and up flights of steps, killing anyone in their way.

It was almost too easy.

Suddenly, one of the feeds she had been watching winked out, replaced only by white static, tinted purple by her screens. Then another, and another. Voices yelled through her comm, something about taking cover.

“Report,” she yelled over the overlapping voices. “What’s going on in there.”

“There’s a guy down here?”

She scoffed. One man? Looking at her now flickering holographic feeds, she realized that this had to be some guy.

“Who is he? Give me information?”

“I can’t tell, he’s wearing some kind of mask.”

A mask… Could it be?

“What kind of weapon is he using?”

“Plasma rifle of some kind.”

Explosions resounded through her earpiece, and the captain’s voice was silenced.

She pulled the small speaker from her ear, discarding it now that its usefulness had expired. She turned to one of her screens, flicking through files until she found a set of entries that she kept buried deep in her personal encrypted files.

She rifled through reports. Someone with a red visor and face mask taking down Los Muertos, an old man using Overwatch Era weaponry to take down a local crimelord, a masked vigilante who wore the number 76 on his back, a man who was named after that same number in news reports run in local areas.

She stopped at a single image, blowing it up so that it filled the screen. A pair of eyes hidden by an indecipherable red bar stared at her.

“So,” she said to the image. “It seems we shall finally meet again, eh?”

“Open the door.” The pilot responded quickly, lowering the ramp of the craft.

“I’m going in.”

                                            ◇ ◇ ◇

She cloaked herself and moved quickly through the empty halls, the dead the only sign of the battle that had taken place here mere minutes before. She rounded a corner, and there he was, standing tall behind a makeshift barricade of tables and shelves, rifle still held ready.

He looked very little like she remembered, but the bearing of the man was the same. An air of command still lingered around him, a sense of justice seemingly ingrained into his nervous system. However, there was now a kind of world weariness as well, like life had beaten him down too much and he had no reason to go on anymore.

She almost pitied him.

Almost.

She’d have to be careful here. As evidenced by the numerous corpses at her feet, this man was still a more than competent fighter.

She backtracked around the corner and pulled up one of her ever present screens with a flick of her wrist, accessing the defense systems in the corridor with ease, setting them to target the man standing a few feet away from her.

From around the corner she heard machines whirring to life and a surprised noise from the man, followed by the sound of gunfire. A crash followed immediately after, probably from the soldier ducking behind his bunker.

She chanced a look into the hallway and was pleased to see her suspicions had been correct. But even as she watched Soldier 76 popped above his makeshift fortress and took out one of the turrets with a few well placed shots.

She cursed. If she was being honest with herself she hadn’t really expected the sentries to do anything but distract him for a few moments. Oh well. It was time to enter the fray herself.

Using the opening provided by the continued sentry fire she threw one of translocators over his head and into the hallway behind him. As he turned to look at the device she uncloaked herself and fired off a spray of bullets at his back. She was certain that she hit him, but he somehow managed to turn and return fire, even though he should’ve been riddled with slugs by now.

She had thought that the experimentation done on him might make things more difficult, but taking half a clip of bullets to the back was much more than she had expected. Apparently this was going to be harder than she thought.

Keeping the turret fire coming she ducked out from behind her corner once again, only to be greeted by a trio of rockets aimed directly at her.

It was at times like these she was really glad that she had stolen the translocator designs.

Quickly she activated the small device on the floor behind the old soldier and disappeared from his sight, reappearing an instant later behind him, a fresh clip ready and waiting. Before he had a chance to react though she had already reactivated her thermoptic camouflage and was changing positions to avoid return fire.

“Come out and face me!” His voice betrayed the pain he was feeling.

Sombra smiled. Good. He wasn’t a god. Her bullets had clearly hurt him, now all she had to do was finish what she’d started.

Moving slowly she crept over to him and managed to touch his gun. She smirked as a flood of purple light flowed down the length of the barrel. The old man looked down at his weapon in confusion as it began to pulse and hum. At the end of the hall she made herself visible, blew him a kiss, and touched a small symbol on one of her screens.

Soldier 76’s gun detonated in his hands, sending him flying back into the wall, weaponless and heavily injured. After a few seconds the old man pushed himself up off the ground, trying to stand. Sombra ran over quickly and shoved him back down, one of her guns pressed against his forehead.

“None of that now Soldado. Or should I use your real name, Jack Morrison.”

He looked up at her, and even with the visor covering his eyes she knew he was shocked.

“How?” he asked.

“Oh, I specialize in information,” she said smugly. I know all about you, and about Gabriel too.” She laughed at the stunned aura that emanated from him.

“Yes, we work together quite often now. You should be very happy that I made sure he wasn’t on this mission.”

“Why would you do that?” He was trying to wrap his head around all of the strange things this purple woman was saying to him, the fact that she knew something he had tried very hard to make everyone in the world ignorant of. What worried him more was why she hadn’t simply given Reaper this information, instead of choosing to find him here.

“Oh isn’t it obvious? You and I have quite a bit to discuss.” She removed her gun from his forehead, not that she really needed it. He wasn’t going anywhere for a while.

“You see,” she continued. “I’ve been looking for you for a very long time.

“Why?”

“Why do you think Jack?” She came in close, staring directly into his eyes. “We have some unfinished business.”

“Who are you?” he asked.

“You wouldn’t recognize my name if I told you.” She pulled up one of her screens, found an image, and turned it around so he could see it.

“I doubt you even remember them.”

Soldier 76, as he was now known, stared at the glowing image, and as he looked memories returned in a flood.

Fire and explosions, a pitched battle.

Omnics firing round after round on his troops.

The people of the town screaming and crying for help from demolished buildings.

A small girl crouched in front of her mother body, tears streaking her face, as he gave the order to move out.

“You…” he said, realization finally flooding his being. “I remember you, your name is…”

“Don’t,” she cut him off quickly. “That girl died a long time ago, with the rest of my home.”

“I remember them all,” the old man before her said quietly. “I remember the battles, the ‘collateral damage’ as the politicians called it. I remember all the lives we destroyed in the name of peace.”

He looked up at her. “What makes you think I could ever forget that?”

She looked down at him, uncomprehending. This man had lingered in her memory for years. She had hated him, wanted vengeance.

She had imagine this scene playing out.

She would stand over him, and he would ask her why she had sided with Reyes.

She would accuse him of the loss of her home.

But she never once thought that he would remember her.

She quickly unholstered her pistol and pressed it to the side of his head once again, determined to at the very least kill him, to finally receive the retribution she had sought for so long.

“I’m sorry.” He bowed his head and awaited her judgement, a man who knew his time had come and accepted it with quiet dignity.

She hesitated.

Behind her a pair of doors slid open and a woman with grey hair and an eye patch stepped out, aiming a rifle directly at her.

Without thinking,  Sombra cloaked herself and ran for the exit, bullets impacting the wall behind her.

She paused for a moment behind a half open door.

“Are you alright Jack?”

“Truthfully? No.”

“Who was she?” “A ghost from my past. A vengeful one. But she had every right to be.”

“I’ll go after her.”

“No. By now she’s long gone.”

“Alright. Come on, let’s get you to the med bay.”

She heard them move off through the door the woman had just entered the room through.

She turned away and ran back to Talon’s still waiting craft, ordering their take off as soon as she was on board.

As they picked up speed she thought about the soldier. She knew for certain that she had hesitated. Right now he could have been dead, but she had held back. Why?

Because, she had lied.

That little girl still had some breath in her lungs, and she haunted Sombra like so many other ghosts.

But, she felt as though one of those spirits had been put to rest somehow.

She may not have killed the soldado, but she had laid to rest a ghost that had been haunting her for a very long time.

And as Sombra flew away from the sight of a Talon loss, she felt one of her fantasmas float away in the wind. 

“You and I have quite a bit to discuss.”

Thanks for writing this for me!!

[digitalluxuryllifestyle-blog]

Try to Watch This Without Laughing or Grinning #76 (REACT)

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Laugh Challenge #76 – Try to Watch This Without Laughing or Grinning #76 (REACT)