*angela

8

Local gremlin kills green cyborg ninja, medic is lost for words and sniper is impressed.

I wanted to include widow in more things, she hardly makes an appearance at all. What if genji and mercy like each other but are too oblivious about each other to even make a move, the whole team suffers on their behalf… In this case it’s dva. (for now)

the school au

Thanks to @wolf1ez for the prompt!

  • widow and mercy met when mercy was in sixth grade and widow was in fifth
  • widow just sort of looked at her and was like ‘damn you’re gay’
  • and mercy just sort of did finger guns and was like ‘right back at ya, babe’
  • and they became best friends
  • widow’s an orphan sorta
  • she was taken in by a foster family but she really hated them
  • the one person she didn’t hate was mercy
  • and so when widow hit eighth grade and mercy was a freshman
  • she applied for a transfer to mercy’s house
  • she got it
  • mercy’s ‘rents were cool with it
  • her dad’s a bohemian who drinks pumpkin spice lattes
  • her mom is a punk rock singer and writes hardcore songs and shit
  • mercy looks like a little angel
  • like she legit has a halo bc i headcanon that little mercy has Baby Hairs™ and if she stands in the light she’s cute af
  • widow skips a grade to be with mercy
  • they both wear huge ass backpacks on the first day of school
  • the picture’s framed over the front door
  • them chilling together
  • and when mercy and widow are in tenth grade
  • pharah and tracer transfer in
  • they’re such Fucking Dorks™ in high school
  • pharah gets more solemn later on but she’s such a nerd
  • tracer… you can’t really tell
  • anyways
  • tracer wears weird-ass goggles everywhere she goes and she’s cute
  • pharah has like muscles which is weird cuz she’s sixteen and you’re supposed to be gangly but she works out and has hella abs and mercy’s taking mandatory PE with widow when pharah walks into the gym from the adjacent weight lifting room with earbuds in and a sports bra on and mercy’s just a little gay for it
  • (she’s so gay for it)
  • she and tracer are bffs. pharah was running laps at an ungodly hour in the morning and tracer knocked her on her ass. good shit.
  • widow meets tracer the same way
  • she’s carrying a cup of scorching hot black coffee (it’s widow what other way would she drink it) when tracer zooms by and it goes flying and widow gets that fucking stony face and tracer is legitimately terrified
  • but then mercy shouts and waves and widow smiles and walks away and tracer is In Love™.
  • but she’s also kind of not bc she thinks widow and mercy are dating
  • pharah has a huge crush on mercy too but she thinks the same thing
  • wow this story is getting gayer than i expected
  • anyways
  • mercy walks into the gym one day
  • and pharah’s just flexing relentlessly
  • and mercy’s got her legs crossed very, very tightly
  • and widow is smirking
  • and anyways eventually pharah pulls a muscle but she doesn’t even flinch and mercy helps her with homework and smiles at her and it’s Worth It.
  • tracer sits down across from widow in the library
  • pulls out hamlet and starts writing
  • widow looks up once
  • and a smile just barely twitches at her lips
  • after like two hours widow gets up, walks to tracer
  • “it’s upside down.” she says smoothly, and flips it in tracer’s hands
  • “oh. right. thanks, love.”
  • “yes.”
  • that’s it. that’s all she says.
  • tracer sweats.
  • widow doesn’t even move a muscle. she just sort of half raises an eyebrow
  • “date me” tracer blurts out, and then looks horrified, but she keeps spewing word vomit.
  • “i know you’re dating mercy, and wow that was out of line, but like you’re pretty and i don’t actually think- i mean, i just pretended to read hamlet for- what, two hours- so i don’t really-”
  • meanwhile widow’s left eyebrow is just slightly moving up with every word and she looks more and more amused and tracer is getting more and more flustered.
  • “angela and i are not dating.” she finally says.
  • tracer blinks. “oh. um, good? i think? i don’t-”
  • “saturday, valley milano. six o’clock. don’t be late.”
  • she leaves
  • tracer legitimately screams
  • the librarian shoots her a look
  • she texts pharah
  • who texts back with the news 
  • she just kissed mercy and she’s pretty sure she wants to get married
  • #S C O R E ™
September - Throttle x Earth, Wind, & Fire

Synopsis: Angela feels self-conscious about her age. Fareeha helps.

Pairings: Rocket Angel/Pharmercy (Fareeha “Pharah” Amari/Angela “Mercy” Ziegler)

Fareeha watches Angela. Her fingers curl tight around the neck of her beer, her eyes, brighter than usual, track the way Lena traverses the floor, circling and cheering as Lúcio jerks and gyrates like he was born to it.

And maybe he was, Fareeha muses, watching his dreadlocks, out of their usual tail, undulate around him. He moves so fluidly, like it’s bass and melody in his veins instead of blood, and he seems to know the lyrics to every song, even the ones that were recorded well before her mother’s time. Seeing him and Lena circle Hana, who is out on the dance floor but only allows herself to tap her feet — Fareeha’s reminded of herself, younger, self-conscious, a little more than a little proud — They’re trying to coax her into letting loose; Fareeha feels the grin rise to her face. She marvels, not for the first time, at the talent that surrounds her, at the heroism these young people have already achieved — one a nomad out of time; the other a celebrity and a pilot of extraordinary caliber; the third an inspiration and a voice for the people.

Then, she looks to her right and finds Angela Ziegler, watching her.

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Quick Draw

McCree wonders if he should have left the hat in his room.

           He fidgets where he stands—perpetually alight with a nervous energy that has him tapping the toes of his boots, hooking his thumbs in the belt loops of his pants, grinding his teeth, eyes skirting the room restlessly.

           He crosses gazes with the Commander—a tall, brick wall of a man who carries the countenance of a prizefighter and moves across the battlefield like war and smoke personified—and who had, for some miraculous, unknown reason, taken pity on a scrap of an arms smuggler.

           McCree swallows hard, offering an uneasy nod.

           The Commander stares back at him evenly, and nods back before turning towards Morrison and Amari in low conversation.

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