#he got a signed zhou hat

[marynated-chicken-22]

I just witnessed the Dutch National Anthem LIVE for the first time in my life, I am a happy woman after YEARS.

today just assured me that f1 drivers are real and i haven't been in a fever dream this whole time.

i screamed so much that my voice is gone

[alocon]

Forever Irresistible [5/5] - Lando Norris

Lando Norris x Fem!Reader

written by alocon

Summary: Despite all hope, Lando never lost his feelings for his best friend's twin sister. However, he still hadn't acted on it. Well, that was until the party, which led you two into a long-term secret relationship

Warnings and Tropes: Fluff, implied smut (no actual smut though), final part

[Part One Here] [Part Two Here] [Part Three Here] [Part 4 Here] [Masterlist]

Irresistible - LN4 x Fem!Reader

“Can we get lunch together tomorrow to talk? Just me and you?”, the 12 words which had been absolutely overwhelming you for the past hour. Rather than give you an idea about what your brother wanted to talk about, Max had instead left you with an ominous “could go either way” message.

You see, it seemed like he was coming around after that family dinner, when he asked you to message him, but no. He instead expressed that he would not be talking to you for a while to work out how he felt about it. It's fine, you thought, a while may only be a couple of weeks. However, he instead decided that “a while” would be at least 8 months. That being said, it was now the day before you and Lando would fly out to Austin for the COTA grand prix. You would be meeting up with Max for breakfast instead of lunch and then would go straight to the airport to what might possibly be one of your favourite tracks. The atmosphere was great, the racing was fun, and there was only a tiny chance that you would manage to walk around the paddock without Daniel or Logan putting a cowboy hat on your head.

A lot had happened after the 2024 season. Lewis had, of course, gone to Ferrari. Nico Hulkenberg had left Haas, leaving an empty space that Checo filled in. And he had done surprisingly well, scoring Haas’ first ever win. By the power of magic? Who knows but that man had become a hell of a good driver to be able to do that. To bring a tractor to 1st takes some skill, especially with 2 Red bulls, 1 Mercedes and 1 Ferrari still in the race. 

Daniel had taken the Red Bull seat, of course, and Yuki was next in line for it. Liam had taken his place in AlphaTauri. Mercedes had seen a new addition to Formula One, with Frederik Vesti taking the Mercedes seat. It was meant to be Mick but after his Le Mans win, he realised that maybe he preferred world endurance a little more. Carlos had obviously left Ferrari with the addition of Lewis. However, instead of joining another team, he left F1 for a season to rally with his dad and would be driving again in 2026 when Valtteri was planning to do a Kimi and go do another type of racing for a couple of years. Other than that, the grid had remained the same. Max in Red Bull, George in Mercedes, Charles in Ferrari, Lando and Oscar in McLaren (Lando had signed a contract until 2027), Fernando and Lance were still in Aston Martin and were rocking it, Lance having got his first win and Fernando his first in like 10 years in 2024, along with 2 more for his collection. Pierre and Esteban still drive for Alpine, Nico for Haas, Zhou for Sauber, and Alex and Logan for Williams. Logan had done really well, too. He got a couple of podiums the previous season.

Lando still hadn't got his first win. Lots of podiums, but no wins. However, that was hardly his fault. The Red Bull, as per, absolutely ripped. 

Walking into the café, you were nervous. You had no reason to be, realistically speaking. Lan had proven to you that he had absolutely no intention of leaving you because of Max, as he had proven over the past 2 years and a few months. You saw Max already there when you arrived so you took a seat at the table with him. It was mostly quiet until you both had ordered your breakfast and drinks, after which you finally spoke up. “Why have you called me here, Max? After not speaking to me for like 8 or 9 months.”

“I miss you. I miss being your twin, having you to look up to and doing dumb stuff together. I miss being the iconic non-driver grid duo. I-”

You cut him off. “Max if you're going to tell me that and then say something about me breaking up with Lando, I will leave. I will walk out of the door right now.”

“You don't need to do that. I just miss you. If you and Lando being together makes you happy, which it clearly does, then maybe I was overreacting.”

“Maybe? Max, you told him he had to choose between me and you,” you said as you took a bite of your food. “You shouted at me for being with him. Made comments about how it wouldn't last because he doesn't love people. But he loves me. He has for years. And I love him. And I just want that to be okay for someone.”

Max nodded, understanding completely why you were upset with him. He looked at you, waiting a few moments before speaking. “I accept the relationship, just so you know. I think… I have for a while, it just upset me a lot that you didn't think that you could tell me for over a year so I freaked out.”

“I think freak out is an understatement, there. Now if that's all, I have a plane to catch.”

“Wait,” he said, placing his hand on your arm to stop you leaving straight away. “It sounds silly but there is a type of counselling/therapy for family members who want to repair their bonds. I've been going to individual therapy for a year, maybe we could give at least one session of the family therapy a go, see if it helps?”

You sighed, mentally weighing the pros and cons. “Okay. One session and we will see where that takes us. I seriously have to go though, Lando is here to get me.”

You stood up, quickly paying for both of your meals despite your brother's objection. You gave him a hug before you left. COTA here we come, you thought.

The journey to America was on a private jet with some of the other drivers. Lewis had, ever so sweetly, invited you and Lando on his jet along with him (obviously), Charles, Arthur (who was racing this weekend as Charles had badly sprained his wrist the previous day but still wanted to watch his brother drive), and George. The plane ride was great, as always, you all talked and played games, you humbled your boyfriend in many games of Uno and Mario kart, you and Lewis caught up, you and Arthur gossiped, overall, it was a great plane ride.

“And Lando Norris wins the United States Grand Prix!”

You don't think you'd ever cried as much in your life as you had watching your boyfriend cross the finish line. He had tried every single race and finally, for the first time, he had come first after so much bad luck. 

As the checkered flag waved and the roar of the crowd filled the air, Lando stormed across the finish line, the first-time winner of a Formula One Grand Prix. He could hear cheers through the radio from his pit crew, him equally excitedly screaming back. The euphoria of the moment engulfed him, but as he slowed his car to a stop in the pit lane, his mind was consumed by one thought: he had to find you.

In the midst of the chaos and celebration, Lando’s heart raced with anticipation as he tore off his helmet and looked towards the crowd of people waiting for him. He spotted you in the crowd quite quickly, your eyes filled with tears of joy and excitement. He didn’t hesitate to make his way to you, embracing you and lifting you off of your feet and over the barrier that separated you.

"I did it! I finally fucking did it!" Lando whispered, his voice trembling with exhilaration as he buried his head into your shoulder.

Your smile was bigger than he thought he had ever seen before as one of your hands gently played with the curls in his hair. “I knew you could do it, Lan. I’m so so proud of you,” you whispered back, your words filled with unbridled happiness as you gently rocked you both back and forth on the spot. You placed a kiss to the side of his head as you felt his tears soak through your shirt. You didn’t care, though. 

In that moment, amidst the chaos of victory, the blaring of the engines, and the cheers of the crowd, you and Lando found solace in each other's arms. Your love had weathered the turbulent journey of a competitive racing world, and now, in the exhilarating embrace of a triumphant win, you both knew (or more proved to those around you) that you were destined to conquer any challenge together.

As you stood together, surrounded by the intoxicating scent of victory and the warmth of love, Lando realised that this moment was not just about his first win; it was about sharing it with the person who had been his unwavering support for years, his pillar of strength, and (by far) his biggest fan.

“Am I even allowed to be over the barrier?” You inquired quietly as Lando stayed attached to you.

“I don’t know… or care.”

“Well, put me back over, you have to hug the rest of your team and go do your interviews.”

He groaned. Very dramatically. “I don’t want to, I want to stay with you.”

“I’ll be here when you get back, darling.” You looked at him as he sighed before lifting you back over, placing a long kiss to your lips and celebrating with his team before doing his interview. The second he was done with all the podium and media obligations, though, he was dragging you back to the hotel, wanting to cuddle before you all went out to party in the evening. 

Once inside the hotel room, you kissed him. His arms travelled swiftly back to your waist, guiding you backwards as he kissed back, you soon feeling your back touch the door as he crowded you against it. You deepened the kiss, hearing him groan softly as he pressed his body closer to you. His hands started to snake under your McLaren polo that you had “borrowed” from him the day previous, placing themselves on your bare waist. Your hands were in his hair, gently tugging at the curls every so often, making him let out quiet but obscene noises as you kissed. He then started moving you again, this time towards the bed. 

“Are you going to sit there and continue to eye fuck me, Lando?” You asked as you adjusted the bottom of the dress that you had just changed into for the party.

He leant his head back on the wall behind the bed. “I can't help it. You look amazing.”

You chuckled, walking over to him and placing a kiss on his forehead. He responded by pulling you onto his lap. You looked at him, seeing the familiar look in his eyes. “Don't start this again, Lan.”

“Why?”

“We have a party to go to. Wait until later.”

He sighed, pulling you closer into a hug. “You're the most beautiful person in the world, you know?”

The party went as normal. You and Lando both didn't drink much but everyone else did. As usual, there was a lot of chaos caused - mostly by Max, Checo and Daniel, you were convinced that Charles would end up with alcohol poisoning with the amount that he and Lewis drank together, and Logan, Oscar and Fred almost burnt the place down.

Everything seemed (almost) perfect as you laid in bed, in your boyfriend's arms, having just celebrated his first win. Neither of you were asleep yet. Lando could tell because your breathing pattern was different when you slept. Whilst running his hand through your hair, he took in the atmosphere. The way that you softened into his embrace, the little snores you did when you slept, every little thing you did reminded him of how much he loved you.

“Marry me.”

“What?” You said, head instantly snapping up towards your boyfriend.

He was already looking at you. “Marry me.” 

You sat up, him leaning over to switch the bedside lamp on. He returned to look at you, holding a ring in his hand. You were dumbfounded. “Lan.”

He looked into your eyes, placing his forehead against yours before beginning to speak, softly. “I don't want you to think this was the spur of the moment. This sounds silly but I've had this ring for like a year and a half. I've just been waiting for the right moment. And this feels like the right moment. If you don't want to, or feel it's too soon, I completely get it. But if you do, I want to spend the rest of my life with you.” He smiled, genuinely, watching as a tear fell down your face. “Please don't cry, it's okay.”

“Yes.”

“Yes as in yes you'll Marry me or you think it's too soon?” He asked, voice soft as he felt a glimmer of hope in his chest

“Yes, as in yes, I will marry you, Lando.”

Now everything was perfect.

instagram

youruser

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri and others

youruser: My boy won his first race finally!! So so proud of him, so here's a Lando appreciation post ❤❤

tagged: landonorris

-comments limited-

landonorris: I love you xx

youruser: I love you too xx

----

landonorris

liked by youruser, mclaren and others

landonorris: Soulmate appreciation post because she's not the only one allowed to be sappy on the main. I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with this beautiful woman ❤❤

tagged: youruser

-view all comments-

youruser: You're stuck with me now x

landonorris: Wouldn't have it any other way x

mclaren: Congratulations!! Welcome to the McLaren family officially (although you were already in it to us), future Mrs. Norris

youruser: My favourite sm admin, thank you x

-The End-

-Word Count: 2,230 (ish)-

Hi, Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed this mini series x If anyone has any requests for one-shots, possible series, etc about drivers, please feel free to request. You can do so by clicking on my profile and there should be a requests/questions box. Have a good day x Alocon

[austin-in-taiwan]

August 6 - Tainan - Sicao Green Water Tunnel, Anping Tree House, Confucius Temple, Hayashi Department Store

We had a free morning today, so a small group went to a music and movie store. There was tons of different music, including rap, jazz, classical, K-pop, and more, in various forms (CD, record, etc.). They also had American and Chinese movies, so I bought a few different ones because I liked how the titles were in Chinese.

At 1:00, we met up and went to the Sicao Green Water Tunnel. We got big circular straw hats and sat in a boat as we flowed down this river with green trees circled over us. There were many times we had to duck down as the branches lied just above our heads. It was very pretty, and we got many good pictures.

Next, we went to the Anping Tree House. This was a former warehouse that was abandoned during the Japanese era, and a tree grew around it. It was super pretty and very cool to see how nature takes over man-made buildings long after they are abandoned. There was also an excellent calligraphy museum beside it, and I practiced the calligraphy skills I learned yesterday.

After the Tree House, we stopped at a Confucius temple. I always enjoy admiring the architecture of these buildings and learning about the Confucius family. There were also exhibits about the different musical instruments used, which was cool to see. 

Finally, we went to the Hayashi Department store which had very cool traditional Taiwanese cultural souvenirs and items. I bought some spicy chili sauce and am excited to try it.

Academic Reflection

At the Confucius Temple, I enjoyed learning about its history in Tainan. Peter told us that when Chiang Kai Shek came to Taiwan, he brought about 70 Confucious descendants, which helped confirm and legitimize his authority. This Confucius Temple was built in 1666. It was originally a school and was called “The Highest Institute.” The label on the sign at the entrance says it is a school. It’s been reconstructed over 30 times due to wars and earthquakes. It was last reconstructed during the Japanese era in 1917. 

Inside the temple, there were also exhibits of music instruments that I found particularly interesting. Specifically, Peter pointed out some bells that we had also seen in the National Palace Museum in Taipei. I got to learn a little more about them here. These bells’ name is “Zhong” bells and are arranged to be played along with Bianqing (the L shaped stones in the picture below). They were crucial in China’s ritual and court music, which went back all the way to the Zhou Dynasty.

[jamminvroomvroom]

let’s say everyone on the grid is out of a contract, who would you put in each team (not allowed to be in their current teams though and using all current drivers) 💖

oh wowie this is the most challenging thing ever i’m obsessed. here goes nothing.

merc: lando n daniel. i have a theory. leave me alone i know what i’m doing.

rbr: seb n fernando scream

ferrari: george (bc this would be actually hilarious, like my man doesn’t deserve their strategy but can u imagine him rapping the rule book down the radio to them n they’re just like 👁👄👁 i’m in tears) n pierre bc i need him to speak to me in italian at every single moment.

mclaren: sharl bc he’s so prepared for the fuckery and lewis bc of nostalgia (my signed lewis mcl vodafone hat) psa: in this scenario mcl is not a war criminal and we know these two could girlboss our precious mcl35 to the podium every race.

alpine: mick n lance bc bubblegum besties in those race suits plus we need lance back in pink

alpha tauri: kmag n ocon. the fireworks. can u imagine. the fact it’s shite would make the tea so much better

haas: max n checo. i want to see guenther absolutely girlboss SHOUT AT THEM *iconic checo meme face and max Making Max Noises* (in this scenario the haas is between approx. 7 laps and a week behind all the other cars)

alfa romeo: yuki n albono: iconic duo!!

aston martin: valtteri (wanna see him in green mmmmm) n nicky. the dynamic would be so confusing and weird and lawrence stroll would not understand how this happened to him.

williams: carlos n zhou. again, nobody at williams fully understands how we got here. jost and carlos definitely have some weird balls banter. i would like to have given zhou a better car but u love the sport n sometimes it just don’t love u back.

[adarlingmess]

Sketched my sneaky, red and black-wearing, leather-loving girls across the modern Fallout games!

Persephone Zhou/Percy: Medical Trainee turned Lone Wanderer turned Walking Atomic Bomb. Wears Chinese stealth armor with a red scarf and her Tunnel Snakes jacket. Chinese descent, 5′2″, petite but broad-shouldered physique. Loves to learn and study new things, from cooking to nuclear physics; she wants to be a polymath just like dear old dad but her energy is all over the place. Hates the song “Atom Bomb Baby” and will hit whoever teases her with it.

Maria Elisa Ortega y Romero/Maria/Ranger Raven: - NCR Ranger turned Courier Six turned De facto Leader of New Vegas. Filipino-Mexican descent, 5′6″, wiry and compact build. Wears the Courier’s duster with a modified merc adventurer outfit underneath, along with biker goggles and a desperado cowboy hat. Did intel work for NCR by signing up as a courier to root out frumentarii, became a singer when she got disillusioned with the NCR, and went back to courier work when that didn’t work out. Calls Raul abuelito and Lily abuelita.

Katerina V. Robinson/Kitty: - Human Rights Lawyer turned Sole Survivor turned Railroad Heavy Agent. Eastern European descent, 5′11″, athletic but still recovering from childbirth. Wears an armored black trench coat over a leather jacket and jeans, her outfit is based on the Wanderer’s Trench Coat mod by AWP3RATOR on Nexus Mods. Codename Whisper, and Deacon will never get over the irony of it. Dropped her vices when conceiving Shaun, picked it up again when he went missing.

[nitewrighter]

Zen and the Art of Hovercycle Maintenance (Part 2)

Read Part 1 Here

----

“So you lost him,” said Genji, pressing his hands together in front of himself. His image on the collapsible table screen warped slightly and Jack glanced up at Junkrat, holding a makeshift antennae to allow for vidcom communication over his head. 

“Not... lost,” said Jack, “We should know where he is as soon as he comes online.”

“If he comes online,” said Genji. Jack could feel the glare from behind his visor.

“He transcended as soon as the explosion happened,” said Jack, “McCree’s searching the bottom of the gorge right now and we’ll be joining him as soon as Orisa’s patched up. We were just calling you in case...”

“In case...?” Genji tilted his head.

“In...case you might have anything on you that might narrow our search,” Jack said a little sheepishly.

“Jack, I--” Genji started but was cut off by the sound of pulsefire.

“Genji, any time you could join us would be nice!” Tracer could be heard offscreen as more pulsefire sounded in the background.

“Give me another minute!” Genji shouted back before turning his attention back to the vidcom, “To answer your question, no. I don’t have anything. We don’t keep track of each other like that. He’s not a mission partner, Jack, he’s my teacher. You know I had my misgivings about this mission as soon as I heard Torbjörn and Junkrat were on it--”

“We’re spread thin and we needed a medic--” Jack started.

“And I took your word on that,” said Genji, “And now he’s missing.”

“Admittedly, the only reason I brought him along was because Zhou’s performance proved that you didn’t necessarily need military training to keep up with our current strike teams,” said Jack, stiffly.

“You didn’t think he could do it,” said Genji, “...at least not like Angela or Captain Amari could do it.”

“We didn’t anticipate medical assistance would be that needed,” said Jack.

“So you brought him around for what? So he wouldn’t feel left out?” said Genji.

“We still need a medic, it’s protocol!” said Jack.

“Genji!” Tracer could be heard offscreen again.

“30 seconds!” Genji shouted back.

“Did you think he could do it?” Jack fired back, “When you brought him on board with us, when you and he agreed that he could help out on field missions, did you really think he could handle everything Talon or anyone else could throw at us? Or did you just need him around because you weren’t sure of yourself?”

Genji visibly flinched at his words. “I--” he started but was cut off by more pulsefire in the background.

“Genji!” Angela’s voice could be heard this time, “We need you flanking!”

“You don’t have time for this,” said Jack.

“Update me as soon as possible. Shimada out,” said Genji, clicking out of the comms channel.

The vidcom channel blipped to a blue screen and Jack huffed and massaged the bridge of his nose and the migraine that was just starting to bloom there with his thumb and forefinger.

“Do I still need to keep the antennae up?” asked Junkrat.

“No,” said Jack rising to his feet and squinting in the dry desert wind, “Let’s just get back to searching.”

---

Zen’s gyroscopics were completely out of whack as his vision flickered back on. Immediately he realized he was no longer under the baking sun of the southwest, but rather, in a large, somewhat grubby but well-kept workshop—maybe a garage? A bunker? A massive mechanical hand passed in front of his face and he nearly flinched but then realized his body wasn’t responding enough to him to flinch.Two omnics were stooped over him, one a hulking yet polished multi-use unit donning a fur-collared leather vest and derby hat, and the other a basic laborer unit that had clearly heavily self-modified with yellow and blue visual receptors and a green hood.

Zen’s vision cut out again.

“Oh whoop,” said one, he couldn’t tell which with his orientation still malfunctioning and his vision off, then it flickered back.

“Sorry about that,” said the Omnic with yellow and blue eyes, tweaking at something below Zen’s neck.

“I-I-I-I” Zenyatta’s voice was caught in a loop.

“Hang in there, I got this,” said the skinnier omnic. Zen felt the pressure and brief shock of wires connecting and then being wrapped up in insulating tape, then his voice seemed to return to him.

“Where am I?” he said, trying to move his head but finding even his neck unresponsive.

“Somewhere safe,” said the skinny omnic, “We found you at the bottom of the gorge… y’know, most units with your make would be bricked by that kind of fall.”

“I am not like most units,” said Zenyatta. He tried to move again. The larger Omnic, who was working on Zen’s shoulder, glanced up and made a hand waving motion while shaking his head.

“Don’t try to move just yet. We had to shut down most motor functions to make most of the repairs,” said the skinny Omnic.

“And you know what you’re doing?” Zen tried to ask the question as respectfully as he could.

“More than most,” said the skinny omnic.

“Who are you?” asked Zenyatta.

“I’m Bars. He’s Bob,” said the skinny omnic.

“…Bob hasn’t said anything,” said Zen.

“Bob doesn’t say anything,” said Bars, “He gets his points across fine though.”

Bob started motioning with his hands then. ASL, Zen recognized it but hadn’t downloaded the language into his memory banks from the Iris. Most cochlear implant technology of their day had rendered the language pretty rare, but still Zen resolved to learn it. There were plenty of Omnics who opted for binary over organic languages as a point of pride and distinction, but the Shambali had prided themselves on being ambassadors, and thus had equipped themselves with countless organic languages. ASL was… an interesting choice, all things considered, but there was a gentleness in Bob’s motions as he signed, a strong sense of dignity and purpose of speech.

“Bob says the Boss will want to talk to you about how you got to the bottom of the gorge.”

Bob signed something a little more insistently and Bars moved his head in an exaggerated movement that imitated a human rolling his eyes. “You know I ain’t calling her that. She’s the Boss. Only you get to call her ‘Miss Ashe.’”

“Ashe!?” Zenyatta said the name in alarm. Bob turned around to grab a small screwdriver off of a nearby counter and Zenyatta saw the decal on the back of his vest: the words, ‘DEADLOCK REBELS, EST. 1978’ arching over a winged skull biting down on a padlock and chains.

“Yep!” Bars answered, apparently mistaking the shock in Zenyatta’s voice for excitement, “The Calamity herself! You’re real lucky we found you! You’re in the safest place in the Sonora!”

Oh I very much doubt that, thought Zen.

“You almost done, Bob?” said Bars.

Bob held up one finger in a ‘wait’ gesture, tightened a screw, then gave a thumbs-up.

“All right,” said Bars, “Restoring motor functions.”

Zen felt sensation flood back into his limbs and he pushed himself up off of the table he was splayed on. He circled his wrists and worked his fingers, finding them in suitable working order. He swung his legs over the side of the table.

“Take it slow,” said Bars, “Gyroscopics might not be 100%--”

Zen stumbled off the table and was caught by Bob.

“...calibrated,” said Bars.

“I---My thanks,” Zenyatta managed as Bob helped him up to his feet. Zenyatta glanced down at his feet, clanking awkwardly against the concrete of the workshop’s floor. The nine lights on Zenyatta’s forehead glowed brightly for a few moments before he perked up. “I cannot seem to access most holo-networks,” he said with conern.

“Oh yeah. Security measure. You need clearance for that,” said Bars.

“...may I have clearance?” asked Zenyatta.

“That’s up to the Boss,” said Bars.

Almost on cue the door swung open and an intimidating woman, all black and white and red and gold, stepped in. She gave a sharp look to both Bob and Bars and instantly they shuffled off to the side, practically fading into the background as she stepped toward Zen. She stared down Zen on that worktable, her winged-eyeliner framed eyes narrowing and her lips pursing, before her expression immediately softened (practically collapsed) and she suddenly seized Zen’s hand in her own. 

“My friend, I cannot fathom what kinda hell you just went through for us to find you at the bottom of that gorge, but all I can say is thank God Almighty we did. How are you feelin’?”

Zenyatta was caught completely off-guard by the hospitality of the woman who, up to this point, Jesse McCree had described as ‘The most terrifying force of nature this side of the Rio Grande.’ 

“I... am well,” Zenyatta managed.

She released his hand, “Good to hear,” she said tilting the brim of her hat back with her thumb, “Well, sir--Can I call you sir?”

Sir??? Zenyatta was still trying to figure out how to adjust to the fact that this woman wouldn’t tear him apart and sell him for scrap with one look.  “’There is no need for such formality. ‘Zen’ is fine,” said Zen.

“Well Zen,” said Ashe with a slight smile, “I don’t mean to intimidate ya, but I’m basically the law out in these parts, so I’m gonna need you to tell me how you ended up at the bottom of the gorge. It’s for security reasons, you understand. From what I gathered at the scene of the explosion, some punks calling themselves the ‘Sidewinders’ showed up and blew your convoy straight to hell-- but I’m gonna need you to tell your side of the story so we can... piece the whole picture together, as it were.”

“The whole picture?” said Zen.

“Yes, indeed,” said Ashe, leaning against the worktable next to him. She gave a low sharp whistle and Bars picked up an Orb of Destruction from the shelving behind him and tossed it to her. “Care telling me what this is? We found them scattered along the bottom of the gorge along with you. Figured they might belong to you,” she put the orb in Zen’s hand and that still-half-panicked part of him briefly considered using it, causing enough of a disruption to get out of there, but he knew he was outnumbered here and even if he transcended he wouldn’t get far. He realized he had taken too long to respond because Ashe spoke again.

“You’re still a bit shaken, I take it?” said Ashe.

“Y-yes,” Zen said, desperate to buy time while he came up with any possible excuse for what he was other than ‘I’m with Overwatch.’

“Probably a sensitive type,” Bars spoke up behind her, “Artsy-type omnics might take longer to process than Omnics like me or Bob, boss.”

Artsy? Zenyatta thought, and then he blurted out, “Yes! Art! Yes! The orb is.... art. It represents duality. Destruction and Harmony. We omnics exist at the cusp of that. The parts of a machine clicking together to form a greater whole as well as... destroying... things...” 

“Guess the triplets were right, for once in their goddamn lives,” said Bars.

“Mm,” Ashe gave a nod before turning back to Zenyatta, “The scene showed signs of a scuffle. Pulsefire indents in the road.”

“Yes, the uhhh, the gang, the...”

“Sidewinders.”

“The Sidewinders were shooting. A lot.” 

“Some indents show they came from your rig too,” said Ashe, folding her arms, “Now, ain’t no law against protecting yourself. If you have some ‘pacifist artsy’ reputation to maintain, ain’t no one’s gonna blame you for not letting yourself be a sitting duck on Route 66.”

She really does keep a close eye on these roads, doesn’t she? Zenyatta thought, almost panicking. “Yes. The rig was... equipped with...” Zenyatta’s mind was racing, “Hard-light drones. Of course, those dematerialize completely when they are destroyed, thus having no wreckage alongside the road.”

“Hard-light drones...” Ashe strolled around the room thoughtfully, “Pricey stuff, that Vishkar tech. You must be big stuff in the art world, huh?”

“Yes! Yes, I am... very famous,” said Zenyatta.

Bob seemed to perk up and started signing very eagerly, prompting a laugh from Ashe. 

“Slow down, slow down, big guy!” said Ashe, knocking the side of her fist against Bob’s arm. She looked at Zenyatta. “Sorry, he’s excited. Bob’s a little starved for culture out here. I tell him he always was the classier one between us.”

Bob made an ‘Oh you,’ gesture with his hand before signing again.

“He says your work is beautiful,” said Ashe, picking up an orb of destruction.

“Oh... thank you,” said Zenyatta.

Bob continued signing.

“You can’t expect me to say all that--” Ashe started but Bob signed a gesture that was probably ‘Please?’ and Ashe huffed. “He says the intersection of---” she looked back at Bob who signed some more, “The intersection of contours and spherical symmetry evoke the astronomical, but the etchings seem almost religious--likely non-Western. Tibetan?”

“Oh--yes--that... that is what I was going for,” said Zenyatta, “It’s Nepali, actually. You have an excellent eye for art, my friend.”

Bob seemed to swell with pride.

“A famous artist.... I used to keep better track of all that,” Ashe was tossing the orb of destruction up and down in her hand with a sigh, “My folks were always throwin’ these galas and whatnot. More of an oil tycoon crowd than the avant-garde, though. Maybe if I went along with that life, we might have met under better circumstances,” she caught the orb, “But that’s the price of makin’ your own life, and choosing your own family.”

“I... still think the circumstances we’ve met under are fortunate,” said Zenyatta, “Your uh...Bob and his compatriot have done excellent repairs to me.”

“He’s really somethin’ ain’t he?” said Ashe, smiling at Bob.

“Yes, well,” Zenyatta tented his fingers a bit nervously, “If you have any more questions...”

“Not particularly,” said Ashe, “You’re welcome to stay and re-orient yourself as long as you need here, Bob can fix you up a glass of Glenwales--”

“I really must be going,” said Zenyatta, stumbling toward the door, “I still need to connect to your holonet to arrange my transportation.”

“The gang and I can drop you off,” said Ashe, “It’s the least we can do--”

“Thank you, but the... art gallery I was heading towards will probably be very concerned as to my whereabouts.”

“All right, suit yourself,” Ashe shrugged.

“I’ll... still need to connect to your holonet to get in contact with my friends,” said Zenyatta.

“Clearance code is Caledonia-9,” said Ashe.

Zenyatta focused briefly and made a chiming sound. 

“My thanks--” He started but suddenly winced from loud feedback of this comm.

“Oh--sorry--Must be some residual damage from the fall--” Bars started but was cut off by the sound of McCree’s voice over the comm.

“It’s connected! He’s got a signal! Zen! Zen are you there? Tekharta Zenyatta are you alive?! It’s McCree! Zen, just ping me if you’re alive!”

“McCree?” Ashe’s face twisted and her red eyes flicked to Zen with fury.

“I--I can explain---” Zenyatta started.

“Bars,” Ashe said the name in command, her voice flat. 

Zen barely managed to turn his head in Bars’ direction when felt something jam itself into his neck and suddenly electrical currents were running all over him. His limbs spasmed, and he saw Bars looking at him with that steady bicolored look before his vision cut out. The pain itself was only a brief burning metallic throb before unconsciousness swept over him once more.

---

Zenyatta wasn’t sure how much time had passed when he came to once more. Only this time he could tell all functions below his neck had been shut off. He glanced down to see that, as what was apparently an additional precaution, he was bolted into his seat by several semi-modified industrial clamps, like a vehicle held in place by a parking boot.

“Right,” Ashe’s voice was the first thing he heard when he came to, “Let’s start this again. And I think I should establish that I really, really do not appreciate being lied to.”

[hiphipfrey]

just a lil  mchanzo fic thing i’ve had the idea for while listening to ‘i see the light’ on repeat for several hours

------

Some days it was hard to see the big picture.

Overwatch. This world-wide organization dedicated to keeping the peace and protecting those who couldn’t protect themselves. They had the best people with the best of intentions. It was no wonder everyone looked up to them.

They looked up to folks like Dr. Zhou, who studied how to fix the dying climate of a world that broke it in the first place. Folks like Lieutenant Wilhelm, who were shields in wars they even didn’t start. Hell, even grouchy ol’ Gabe was willing to do whatever it took to make things right, even if he had to do something wrong in the process.

With great people all around him, doing incredible things day in and day out, it was hard for Jesse to think of himself as anything more than a small drop of water in the ocean by comparison.

Standing out on the top-floor balcony of the International Numbani Conference Center and looking out at the millions of twinkling city lights below, however, made him feel like so much more than a small drop.

“Enjoying the view?”

“In a way, yeah.” With a soft laugh, Jesse turned his head as Hanzo came up beside him and joined him resting against the railing. He snuffed out the last bit of his cigar on the ground, leaning forward a bit as he nodded towards the archer. “How you holdin’ up?”

Hanzo waved his hand dismissively. “I’ll live, but Lúcio has already informed me that I will be on bedrest when we get back.” Though his hair and clothes were still mussed up from the fight earlier that evening, he appeared relatively unharmed -- save for the thin bandage over his right brow and the padded gauze taped to his clavicle, of course.

It still amazed Jesse how the man could still look so regal even when beaten and bruised. He chuckled again, his breath still wheezy from the bruise that was surely forming on his rib. “Reckon Ang is gonna tell us all somethin’ similar when we see her.”

“Indeed.” Hanzo turned his gaze outward, a rare grin curling on his face. There was a moment where Jesse saw his lips twitch, as if sounding out words to say, before the man spoke once more. His voice was hesitant, quiet, yet loud in the relative silence of the night. “I told you that I have been to Numbani before, yes?”

He hummed. “Think so, yeah. That was a while back though, right?”

A nod. “Two years after I left the clan, I came here for a contract. It was quick money, easy enough, and I needed to distract myself from...” Hanzo looked down at his hands, the words unspoken left hanging in the air. Jesse waited for him to continue, watching his face carefully all the while. “I did not... see this place in the best light when I was here last.”

Again, he waited, and Hanzo sighed. “Or perhaps, I was unwilling to see it before. I don’t know.”

Sensing the end of the man’s thoughts, Jesse shifted in place to stare out at the cityscape below. It was hard to believe that just a few hours ago, Talon troops had flooded the very building they stood atop and had wrecked absolute havoc on the City of Harmony itself as part of some sort of fear mongering play by Doomfist. Were it not for the gentle smoldering cinders that rose into the night air and the bruises they wore with pride, there would almost be no trace of the terrorists in the city now.

Jesse smiled when he saw that Hanzo was just as awestruck by the sight as he was. Nudging the man beside him, the gunslinger gestured outward with a free hand. “Kinda crazy to think ‘bout it all, huh?”

Hanzo didn’t look away, but tilted his head up in question. “How do you mean?”

There was something so utterly endearing about that little action to him in that moment, and Jesse grinned wider, tipping his hat back as he looked out towards the midnight sky, the stars just barely visible past the glitter and glitz of the twinkling neon signs and skyscrapers stories below. “We were just down there, fighting for our lives.” He shrugged. “An’ now? It’s almost like it never happened.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Hanzo’s arm clutch the sleeve of his gi tightly. “But it did happen. Thousands were hurt, some killed from the initial blast, we can’t ignore that--”

“Whoa, whoa, partner.” Jesse rested a hand on Hanzo’s shoulder, wary of the bandages. Hanzo flinched and looked up at him cautiously. “Easy there. I ain’t sayin’ it never happened, or that we got out without a scratch. Hell, I’m surprised we got out at all, given our track record--”

When he saw Hanzo’s face fall further, Jesse shook his head. With a deep sigh, Jesse turned back towards Numbani and listened to the sounds of life returning to a previously scared city. Car horns began to honk loudly in traffic, sirens of emergency vehicles were growing more and more distant, and slowly but surely, the din of a proper city was returning. All that white noise that used to drive him up a wall felt comforting now.

“Look at it like this.” Waving his other hand out, he motioned towards the city lights. “Every light out there is someone we saved tonight, Hanzo. They get to go home, be with their families.” his eyes briefly flickered down at Hanzo, “Loved ones. Friends. They get to go do that ‘cause we were there to help. ‘Cause we were there an’ we did somethin’. May only seem like one or two folks in the moment, but it all adds up in the end, right?”

At those words, it was like a light had flipped on inside of Hanzo. His dour expression melted into something bright, and his dark eyes shimmering under the sparkle of neon. They were warm. They were beautiful. They were full of something he had never seen before in the archer.

They were full of hope.

Jesse felt his heart stammer in his chest. All those gentle feelings flooding his heart were now threatening to burst forth, words hitching in the back of his throat and mouth. He knew he had a soft spot for the man a while back, but here and now, he realized it ran so much deeper than liking how his hair looks when it was down.

It was how he had come to see the archer grow in his time at Overwatch, how he had seen this man go from distant and cautious to a man who truly wants to do what is right. Not just Hanzo either, but Jesse himself has changed for the better around him. God, it was a million things and it was everything, and the words were right on his tongue if he could just say it.

Jesse saw the way Hanzo smiled so softly at the world below them, and suddenly all words were lost to him, as if they had never existed in the first place. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out.

Hanzo was oblivious to his inner struggle at that moment, and let out a deep breath, his eyes fluttering shut in utter serenity.

“Peace never looked so beautiful to me.”

Jesse couldn’t help but lean his head against his hand as he stared at Hanzo. Maybe someday I’ll say it. I’ll tell you how I feel, and I’ll say it with no hesitation.

“I know what’cha mean there.”

---

[siderealscribblings]

How about some McSombra, if youre man enough

Jesse stretched his hand out to stop the glass from sliding across the bar, eyebrow raising as the sloshing purple liquid washed some of the salt off the rim of the glass.

“Didn’t order this,” Jesse said.

“Lady in the corner sent it over,” the bartender said, head jerking over towards the booth tucked away in the smoky corner. Jesse lifted his head up, squinting through the haze as a figure in a deep purple sundress waved at him from over the rim of a similarly eggplant colored cocktail.

“Send it back,” Jesse said, sliding the drink back towards the bartender. In the mirror behind the rows of liquor bottles, he could see the bartender walking back towards the booth, loosening the clasp that held his revolver in place in case things took a turn for the ugly. There wasn’t any sign of Lacroix or Reyes; just a small handful of oil-rig workers watching the hockey game at the end of the bar.

The clinking of glasses drew Jesse’s attention back to the bartender who was struggling to place a tray of twelve identical purple prickly-pear margaritas in front of him.

“The, uh...lady in the corner insisted I give these to you,” the bartender said a little sheepishly, recoiling a little as Jesse stood up with a crack of his neck, draining the last of his Buffalo Trace and sauntering over to the booth in the corner.

“Take it the next round is on me?” Jesse said, sliding into the worn leather booth as the woman looked over a pair of dark, purple rimmed shades. “Saw you when I walked in, by the way; that getup isn’t exactly inconspicuous.”

“If I wanted to be inconspicuous, you wouldn’t have seen me,” Sombra said, sipping her margarita through a thin cocktail straw as the eyed the platter of drinks on the counter. “Are you not even going to drink those? Those were fifteen dollars a piece!”

“I’m sure Talon can afford it,” Jesse shrugged, draping one arm over the back of his booth while resting the other on the butt of his pistol under the table. “Y’all ain’t exactly hurting for change these days, are you?”

“You of all people know how anal Reyes gets over expense reports,” Sombra said, glancing at her phone for a moment. “You know we have to account for every individual bullet?”

“Why d’you think I started using a six-shooter? Math’s a helluva lot easier.”

“Lot cheaper than wearing a bandolier of shotguns as well,” Sombra muttered, taking a long sip of her drink. “Maybe you can convince him to give reloading a chance.”

“Answer’s still no,” Jesse said, steel slipping into his voice.

“You didn’t even know what I was going to ask,” Sombra protested.

“Probably not, but I can make a good guess,” Jesse said with a wry smile. “Y’all can’t be that hard up for new recruits that you gotta be barking after an old bull like me.”

“It’s the old bull that gets all the cows, does he not?” Sombra said, chewing on the end of her sunglasses as she regarded him. “Reyes does have a thing for nostalgia.”

“Don’t tell me Reaper is getting dewy-eyed remembering the good old days,” Jesse snorted. “Weren’t no good old days in Blackwatch.”

“Good old days are in short supply everywhere,” Sombra said, leaning in on her palms. “Still, you two were quite the team, weren’t you? Gunslingers like yourself are in short supply.”

“And I should use my gun for Talon, hm?” Jesse said. “Why? Generous benefits package?”

“We actually do have a pretty robust health insurance policy,” Sombra said.

“Any health insurance policy that Dr. O'Deorain signed off on is not one I want to be covered by,” Jesse chuckled. “You know your people are out of their fucking gourds, right?”

“And Overwatch has such shining beacons of mental health?” Sombra said, glancing at her phone. “I’ve got your friends’ psych-evals and it would be faster to tell you who doesn’t have extreme cases of PTSD, survivor’s guilt, and trauma induced fetishes.”

“Pardon?”

“Let’s just I can hack through any security system from my phone and that Dr. Ling-Zhou’s interest in ice goes beyond the purely professional,” Sombra said, smirk spreading across her lips.

“Huh...not entirely sure what to do with that information.”

“I could suggest a few things,” Sombra said, toe of her sandaled foot brushing the front of Jesse’s shin, startling him into nearly firing his pistol.

“I’m sure you could,” Jesse said, trying not to look like the sensation of the top of her sandaled foot had any effect on him at all. “But ice kinks and battle scars are still a sight prettier than most of the people y’all got on payroll.”

Sombra’s eyebrow raised. “Does that mean you think there are a few that are a sight prettier than your current comrades?”

“Cut the shit; I’m not throwing my hat in with a bunch of fucking terrorists,” Jesse snapped.

“According to Vishkar, your froggy little friend is a terrorist,” Sombra shrugged. “Terrorism is a point of view, Jesse.”

“One I don’t agree with,” Jesse replied. “And you know as well as I do that the shit Lucio did isn’t even on the same level as the stunts Talon’s pulled. You know he only did what he had to do to survive.”

“As do we all,” Sombra said, eyes dilating for the briefest second as though she realized she had let out more than she wanted to.

“S’that supposed to mean?” Jesse asked, arching an eyebrow.

“You don’t want to work for terrorists?” Sombra asked, folding her arms across the smooth fabric of her dress. “Tough mierda; we all work for terrorists. Every gang, army, or corporation is a terrorist to somebody. It’s all the same; people using other people to get rich or get powerful. Overwatch is just Talon with a good PR department.”

The sudden outburst of emotion was a stark contrast to her blithe, flirty personality and nearly bowled Jesse out of his seat.

“Some part of you has to know that,” Sombra said, shaking her head.

“So, what, Talon is for the little guy now?” Jesse asked, shaking his head. “You expect me to believe you’re some kind of freedom fighters trying to save the world?”

Sombra’s smile took on a toothy quality. “When did I ever say that I was here on Talon’s behalf?”

Jesse frowned, opening his mouth as he mentally scanned their conversation.

“Ogundimu has his plans; I have mine,” Sombra said, downing the rest of her drink in one gulp that left purple lipstick smeared on the rim. “I’m not asking you to leave Overwatch and I’m sure as hell not asking you to join Talon.”

Her hand slid across the table, palm up as she stared at him.

“I’m asking for you to join me,” Sombra said.

“And I want to do that because…” Jesse watched Sombra stand up, finger tensing on the finger of Peacemaker’s trigger as she saddled up beside him in the booth. Before he could ask what she thought she was doing, she planted herself in his lap, cupped her hand around his ear, and started to whisper.

Jesse’s eyes widened with each word, stunned by both the feel of her warm tequila scented breath on his cheek and the bombshell she had just dropped on him. He didn’t have time to process either before she stood up, walked back around the table, as the bartender brought the tray of drinks over.

“Look man, are you gonna drink these or-” Jesse immediately grabbed one margarita and downed it in one, fluid gulp, piling the rest of the drinks on the table between them.

“...what the fuck?!” Jesse breathed as soon as the bartender stepped away. “You’re seriously telling me that-”

Jesse trailed off as Sombra pressed her fingers against his lips.

“Not here,” Sombra said. “I can’t explain anything more right now, but this goes deeper than Reyes and Morrison’s pissing contest.”

“Yeah, I’ll fucking say,” Jesse mumbled, reaching for another drink. “Jesus…how do I know you’re telling the truth?”

“I have proof...but not here,” Sombra said, slipping a piece of paper across the table. “Room 1224. I need to take care of some loose ends but I can meet you there in an hour.”

“I swear to god, if this is some half-assed scheme to invite me back to your hotel room…”

“If I wanted to sleep with you, I would have asked,” Sombra said, lips twitching a little. “I might still.”

“Why?” Jesse asked, shaking his head. “Why me?”

“Because I’ve tapped into the security camera in your room and wouldn’t mind finding out if you’re as noisy with a partner as you are solo?”

“No...okay, we’ll circle back around to that but,” Jesse ran his hand through his hair. “Of all the people...why me? Why not Hana or Lucio or, fuck, if you need muscle why not Zarya?”

Sombra cocked her head to one side, regarding him thoughtfully.

“You’re a bad soldier,” she said finally. “Song, Morrison, even Ziggler; they’re all good soldiers. Good soldiers make for bad revolutionaries. And our little revolution is in need of bad, bad soldiers.”

Sombra reached out a hand again. “Interested?”

Breathing out through his nose, Jesse plucked a watery margarita off the tray, downed it in one gulp, and pressed his hand into hers.

“Fuck it,” Jesse spat. “Overwatch was getting too crazy for my blood anyway. You know we got a hamster now?”

“I know; I tried to flip him before we met,” Sombra said with a wry smile.

“Wait...I was second in line after the fucking hamster?!”

[star196]

A Tender Surprise

The sound of heels clicking along the hallway floor echoed along the hall walls. Angela carried several folders and files with her, normally this would upset her as it showed the laziness of her staff however she was much too lost in the small phone screen in her hand. A smile present on her face as she looked at old photos of her and Jesse, she still found it hard to believe that their wedding anniversary was already rapidly approaching. With her sights focused on the phone, she failed to see what was in front of her and soon crashed into another person. Her files and folders were sent up into the air, Angela herself fell onto her rear and dropping her phone in the process.

“Verdammt…” Angela groaned, rubbing her head.

“That’s not very lady-like, Angie.” Came a familiar southern drawl.

Angela looked up and met the gaze of her husband, Jesse McCree. Her face went red after realizing what had happened. Jesse smirked, reaching out to help her onto her feet before helping her pick up the files.

“I called out to you three times and you still came crashing into me.” He joked.

“And zhou didn’t bother to warn me?” she retorted.

Jesse shrugged, “I wanted to see what would happen.”

Angela let out a soft laugh, piling up her work before standing up. Jesse grabbed her phone, taking a quick glance of what she was looking at.

“I don’t remember this being taken.”

Jesse handed the phone back to Angela, taking the paperwork from her in the process.

“I vouldn’t expect zhou to, this vas taken moments before zhou and Reinhardt had zhour drinking contest.” She recounted, a small smile present on her face.

“Jack’s got us gearing up to head out on a mission in a couple of hours. I was thinking maybe, we could spend some ‘time’ together before I head out.” Jesse teased, pulling Angela by her waist while they walked down the hall.

Angela sighed, her smile fading away. She knew that it was for the greater good but it would be nice if every once in a while, she could have Jesse all to herself.

“I haven’t started vork yet and I’m already in a pile of papers. How long vill zhou be gone?” she asked. Jesse smiled at her and caressed her cheek.

“Don’t go opening any wine just yet, Angie. I’ll be back before our anniversary.” He said reassuringly. Angela gave him a soft smile, before resting her head against his arm as the two continued walking down the hall.

They eventually arrived at Angela’s office in the medical wing. She motioned for Jesse to place the paperwork on her desk.

“Thank zhou, Jesse.” She said, giving him a peck on the cheek.

“My pleasure, milady.” He said with a tip of his hat.

Angela looked up into Jesse’s eyes, she took a hand and cupped his cheek before pulling him towards her lips. A passionate kiss was shared between the two; while it only lasted for a few seconds, it felt like hours for the two. Pulling away, gazing into each others eyes and holding onto one another.

“What was that for?” Jesse asked.

Angela’s face flushed, she played with the hair on the back of Jesse’s head. “Just a little something for zhou to remember me by while zhou’re on that mission.”

Angela watched as he left in a hurry, no doubt late for another briefing with Captain Morrison. Sitting down at her chair, Angela began the tedious work of going through each file and signing off on what was needed. Being the head of the medical staff was no easy task, she much preferred to be working in the lab. Especially nowadays more than anything. It had started a couple weeks ago, she had woken up with a horrible stomach bug. She expected it to be food poisoning from her dinner date the night prior, but many days later and she still felt inexplicitly tired and woozy. Despite all of this she kept her focus on the busy workdays ahead. With the agents of Overwatch being on back to back missions; it made it difficult for Angela to focus on small matters such as her illness as well as enjoy anytime with Jesse or her other friends. But the peace needed to be kept, now more than ever. A soft knock came from her open door, Angela looked up to see her assistant carrying another file. She was incredibly nervous as she approached Angela, her voice soft and shaky.

“Your tests came back from earlier this week. I’m sorry, I would have gotten it to you sooner-”

Angela held up her hand gave her a soft smile, “It’s alright, dear. Thank zhou.” She grabbed the file and placed it with the others, not bothering to open it as she had already determined the cause of her discomfort. Her assistant nodded and began to walk back to the door, she stopped by the door before turning to speak to Angela.

“Oh, Ms. Oxton is here to see you.”

“Send her in.”

Angela kept her focus on the files before her, not noticing when Lena walked into her office.

“Hiya, Angie!” she said cheerfully. Jumping onto the seat next to Angela’s desk. Angela didn’t respond, she was much too lost in thoughts and her work. Lena grew concerned, she’d never seen Angela in such a state before.

“Angie!” Lena blurted out once more. Angela jumped in her seat, letting out a shriek as a folder dropped onto the floor.

“Verdammt, Lena. Zhou nearly gave me a heart attack.” Angela carried an annoyed tone in her voice.

Lena leaned in closer to Angela, analyzing her current appearance. Her eyes were baggy, pale skin, her hair hastily tied into a ponytail and overall, she appeared more distracted than usual and slightly more on edge.

“Are you alright, love? I thought I was coming in for you to check on me?”

Angela forced out a laugh, relaxing slightly in her seat. She raised a hand to her face and pinched the bridge of her nose. She took a deep breath before speaking.

“It’s… it’s nothing, Lena.”

Lena frowned, crossing her arms while staring back at Angela.

“I’m not daft, Angie. You look more knackered than when Jesse and Hanzo return from a night out drinking.”

Lena reached out and grabbed Angela’s hand, squeezing it gently and smiling at her. Angela sighed, nodding softly at Lena.

“I’m vorried, Lena. I vorry that at the end of the day, vhen I finish all of this paper vork and see my patients, that the one person I really want to see… von’t be there.”

“Angie… Jesse may act like a man child but he isn’t one on the battlefield. You know this, what makes you so worried?”

Angela shook her head, standing up from her seat and motioning for Lena to follow her, waiting by the door as she took deep breaths. Lena sighed, knowing fully well that this is as much as Angela will tell her. As Lena took a step forward, she felt something beneath her foot. Looking down, she saw the file that had fallen earlier. She quickly picked up, a paper sliding out from it when she did. Lena groaned and picked up the stray piece of paper, only for her eyes to widen at what she saw printed on it.

“So, that’s what gotten you in such a tussle.” Lena said, a huge smile plastered on her face.

Angela looked over at her, glancing at the paper in Lena’s hand. A small smile appeared on Angela’s face, her eyes starting to well up in the process. Lena rushed over to Angela, pulling her back into the office and jumping in place.

“You’re pregnant! Oh my god, Angie! Why didn’t you say anything? Do you know the gender? Oh, if it’s a girl can her middle name be Lena!?”

Angela laughed and held Lena in place as she rambled on and on.

“Calm down, dear. I don’t vant anyvone to know just yet.” Angela said in a soft voice.

Lena looked at Angela with concern, everything finally making sense to her.

“That’s why you’re worried about Jesse. You haven’t told him… so that he doesn’t get distracted on mission and risk his life. Oh, Angie.” Lena pulled Angela into a hug, holding her close as Angela held back her tears.

“Keep him say for me, please.” Angela requested.

Lena pulled away and playfully saluted, “I’ll make sure to keep that arse of his safe!” she said, holding back a giggle. Angela smiled and opened the door to her office once more, “Let’s get zhou ready for that mission.”

Later

It had happened so suddenly. A simple retrieval had turned into a rescue operation. A team containing Lena, Jesse, Reinhardt, and Genji had been pinned down among some temple ruins for three days already. Talon had located them and were on a relentless assault, having managed to cut off all escape routes. All previous attempts had failed, every rescue drone being shot down faster than it could reach the temple. Throughout these days, Angela was kept with constant updates from Jack himself. She’d be the first to respond if anyone were to be injured, something that she feared would happen as the days progressed.

Eventually, on the third day, Talon carelessly left an opening for their swift defeat. Captain Amari lead a couple small squadrons that made quick work of Talon. Dispatching them with ease and scarring off the rest. The team soon found themselves onboard a drop ship back towards HQ where everyone else was waiting for them.

The team were welcomed back by the large crowd of the Overwatch staff. Praises, hugs, and tears were all had. Angela waited patiently inside the HQ with Jack, both not wanting to be around the large crowd. Lena was the first to enter, chipper as she always was. She blinked towards Angela and leaned against her ear.

“I told Jesse you had something special waiting for him… he needed something to get through the madness.” She whispered. Angela smiled, thanking Lena for taking care of him.

The others soon came through the doors, Reinhardt wearing that enormous famous smile on his face. His armor severely damaged from the fight.

Genji came in immediately after, his armor stained with blast marks but he was physically fine. Angela ordered for him to be checked immediately, along with Reinhardt. Last to enter was Jesse. He took his time to enter the building while he relished in the praise the others were giving him. Angela ran towards him, throwing herself into his arms. She sobbed into his chest, holding onto him as if her life depended on it.

“See, I told you I’d be back before our anniversary.” He said softly against her ear.

Angela pulled away and looked up at him, Jesse wiped the tears away from her eyes as the two held each other in an embrace. Everyone had managed to come home unharmed and with no losses. The two were the only ones left in the hall, still holding onto each other while everyone else had left long ago.

“Lena said you had something waiting for me, whatever it is compares nothing to seeing you after walking through those doors.”

Angela smiled, cupping Jesse’s cheek. Her face flushed as her digits played with his beard.

“I vouldn’t be too sure. I’m pregnant.” She said with an enormous smile on her face.

Jesse’s eyes widened, life pausing the very moment he heard those words. He stammered with his words and quickly became a flustered mess.

“I-I’m going to be a father?” He asked, Angela simply nodded rapidly after seeing a similarly huge smile appear on his face.

“I’m going to be a father!” he exclaimed happily, he swept Angela off her feet and spun her around. The two shared a passionate kiss, holding each other close before Jesse set her down on her feet.

“I was worried if I told you before your mission.. that…” Angela shyly said.

Jesse shook his head and simply held onto her hands tightly. “Had you told me about this I’d have fought Jack to give me time off. This is incredible, Angie!” He carried that stupid smile Angela had loved so much. She cupped his cheek and kissed him one last time.

“I love you, Angela.”

“And I love zhou, Jesse.”

[junker-town]

LeBron to Houston would be complicated. Here's 4 ways they can do it.

It’s possible for James to sign with the Rockets next summer, but it would require all of Daryl Morey’s genius.

The Houston Rockets came this close to knocking off the Golden State Warriors in the Western Conference Finals. They had the better record, home-court advantage in a Game 7, and a double-digit halftime lead in Games 6 and 7. They just couldn’t get it done.

Now, it’s worth revisiting what was hinted at earlier this season: what if they got into the LeBron James sweepstakes?

Don’t laugh. This is a possibility, though probably a remove one.

Those rumors were fed in December by an excellent column from USA TODAY’s Sam Amick, who laid out the stakes and explained why James would consider Houston. The reasoning makes sense: they’re a great team, he’s the best player in the league, and they employ his good friend Paul.

This is all speculation until the postseason is over and the parties in question know exactly where they stand. But let’s say we do reach July and James does want to join the Rockets. It’s a great idea, but Houston will need to use every trick in the book to fit such a scenario under their salary cap.

A look at Rockets’ cap space next summer

Houston will go into the offseason with eight players under contract and a little less than $80 million guaranteed. (Troy Williams and Zhou Qi both have non-guaranteed contracts.) The NBA’s projected salary cap is $101 million, and James’ first-year max salary would be $35.4 million under that projection.

However, it’s more complicated than that.

In these James-to-Houston scenarios, we’re imagining that the following players are untouchable: James Harden, Eric Gordon, Clint Capela, and Paul. Those four players make up the Houston core, and that’s why James would choose to join the Rockets in the first place.

Capela can be signed over the cap, but Paul has a massive cap hold, money that is temporarily applied to the team’s salary outlay in order for the Rockets to retain the right to exceed the salary cap to re-sign him. (This is commonly known as Bird Rights.) They can renounce that cap hold ($39 million) and lose his Bird Rights, and they can re-sign him for any amount to make the hold go away. However, until they do one or the other, that cap hold effectively makes the Rockets an over-the-cap team.

Here’s what it looks like on paper.

If Houston went scorched earth, renounced or traded every player except the untouchable ones, and waived their non-guaranteed players, they could manage about $8 million in cap space. That’s, uh, not enough to sign James.

Can the Rockets successfully trade Ryan Anderson, P.J. Tucker, Nene, and Chinanu Onuaku while taking no salary back? That’s a tough ask even for Daryl Morey’s genius, but this hypothetical space we’ve created is governed by Kevin Garnett so anything is possible. (Sorry, that should read: “AAAANYTHING IS POSSSSIBBBBBLEEEE.”)

Even then, it’s not close to reach James’ first-year salary needed to sign him as a max free agent. James might take a small discount, but not one requiring him to give up tens of millions.

Unless Morey can pull another rabbit out of his hat, here are the options we think Houston has.

Option 1: Split ~$47 million between Paul and James

The first-year maximum salary for veterans who have been in the league for 10-plus years is 35 percent of the salary cap. There’s virtually no way for Paul and James to both receive that ($35.4 million) on a team also paying James Harden’s enormous contract.

However, if the Rockets renounced Paul’s salary cap hold and successfully went scorched earth, they would have $47 million in cap space. That could be $30 million for James and $17 million for Paul, or a split that’s closer to even should the two friends agree to it.

This requires Houston to successfully trade or release all non-essential figures without bringing any salary back, which will be extremely difficult.

But let’s say they jettison all except Nene, who remains at $3.6 million. Would Paul agree to $14 million while James remains at $30 million? Could James be convinced to cut another million or two off his annual salary so the Rockets could keep useful minimum-salary players around?

The more money they sacrifice, the easier this becomes. But there’s no indication that either player is willing to sacrifice this much.

Option 2: Trade Eric Gordon or Clint Capela

Houston could free up even more space by dealing one or their two key role players, Gordon or Capela. The Rockets will have to pay Capela well next summer, but his cap hold is only $5 million, so they can wait to finalize his contract last. That’s useful, and the Rockets also have leverage since Capela is a restricted free agent. It’s doubtful that Houston would even consider renouncing him for a marginal amount of added cap space.

Gordon, on the other hand, has emerged as a lethal “switch-buster” and a player whose three-point shooting really personifies Houston’s identity. The Rockets would be losing a crucial part of their offense if they dealt him — and remember, they can’t take much or any salary back in return or it defeats the purpose — but everything might be on the table if it means signing LeBron James.

Without Gordon’s $13.5 million, the Rockets could sign James to a contract starting at his $35.4 million max and Paul to one that starts upwards of $30 million.

Option 3: Trade for James just like they did Paul

James has a $35.6 million player option for next season, which puts him in a situation like Paul’s last summer. Paul unexpectedly opted into the final year of his contract to facilitate a complicated trade with the Clippers. What if James did the same, assuming he had a guarantee from Cleveland’s front office that they would trade him to Houston?

If the Rockets completed this trade after the draft, they could theoretically include a freshly signed Capela, Ryan Anderson, and first-round draft picks from 2019, 2021, and 2023. They wouldn’t have to pull off the scorched earth strategy on their role players.

However, this option requires a lot to go right. The Rockets would need the Cavaliers to be cooperative while trading the best player in the league, and Cleveland would need to value that offer, too. Those first-round picks will be late ones. Anderson is overpaid even if he keeps up his strong play. Capela is a good young player, but Cleveland won’t start rebuilding around a slightly undersized traditional center.

Option 4: Sign-and-trade for James

If James opts out, like we expect him to, then he could be sign-and-traded to the Rockets. Cleveland would have less leverage and presumably require less in return, but at that point, why would they cooperate at all? The Cavaliers haven’t given up on James returning to his hometown squad. They won’t willingly help him leave unless they were certain he wouldn’t be returning, and maybe not even then.

Even if they are, the Rockets will have limited flexibility due to sign-and-trade rules that prevent them from having a team salary more than $6 million above the luxury tax under any circumstances.

Troy Taormina-USA TODAY Sports

Houston Rockets owner Tilman Fertitta (left) and general manager Daryl Morey (right) talk during the game against the Memphis Grizzlies at Toyota Center. Mandatory Credit: Troy Taormina

Because of all of this, James to Houston would be Morey’s magnum opus

It’s not easy or simple for the Rockets to acquire James, but they could decide the difficult, winding path might be worth it all the same. If Morey could pull this off, it would be his Mona Lisa.

That’s asking many variables to fall into place. James has to be OK with picking Houston, Paul has to be OK taking a steep discount, the Rockets would have to decide James is worth gutting their depth, and then they would actually have to succeed at going scorched earth to free up the necessary money.

Morey’s trade for Paul was the most complicated front office maneuver I’ve ever seen, involving a half dozen trades for fringe prospects that were ultimately lumped into a single package that brought Paul to Houston. When viewed through thick front office nerd glasses, it was sensational. When viewed through anything else, it was confusing as hell and vaguely magical that it worked. No one should doubt Morey after that.

I’d love to see James in Houston paired up with Paul and Harden. That team may not be favored against Golden State, but it would be damn close.

But remember that player movement doesn’t happen magically in this league. Houston would love to sign James, but actually doing so is much more complicated.

This story was originally published in December and updated after Houston’s Game 7 playoff loss to the Warriors.