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violent-optimism · 7 months ago

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My favourite domination quotes from every TF2 Merc

Holy cow this took a while but was so fun to put together.

Because let’s be honest…the domination voice lines are one of the best things about playing TF2. You can’t tell me it’s not satisfying (or hilarious) when you hear one of these!

Scout:

To Soldier: “What’s your major malfunction, brother?”

(This is a reference to the movie Full Metal Jacket with a character that Soldier is definitely based off of)

To Medic: “Real nice effort, Deutsch-bag!”

To Pyro: “Dude, you’d get a closed casket at the ugly cemetery”

To Sniper: “You’ll never hit me! You’ll never hit my tiny head! It’s so tiny, I got a frickin’…such a tiny little head!

(If I ever hear this as Sniper I might just throw my mouse out the window lol)

To Spy: “Hehe, hey look! You shapeshifted into a dead guy!”

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Soldier:

“If God had wanted you to live, he would not have created ME!”

To Demoman: “Scotland is not a real country! You are an Englishman in a dress!”

To Pyro: “You cannot burn me, I do not have time to combust!”

To Engineer: “Go back to Calgary, you cow-herdin’ Canadian!”

(As a Canadian, this one just tickles me. Why does he think Engie is from Alberta? I’m honestly shocked that Soldier knows the name of a single Canadian city lol).

To Medic: “Ich Bin I just kicked your ass!”

(“Ich Bin” means “I am” in German, which means Soldier said “I am I just kicked your ass” LOL)

To Sniper: “You just got dominated, Bilbo Baggins!”

(I have NO clue why he says this but as a LOTR fan I fucking love it. If anyone can explain the connection that would be cool.)

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Gonna skip Pyro for obvious reasons, sorry Pyro! :(

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Demoman:

To Pyro: Go to hell! And tell the devil I’m coming for him next!”

(Damn that goes hard)

To Medic: “How’s that ‘doing no harm’ working out for you, then?”

To Sniper: “I hate you campers! Everyone bloody hates you!”

(Jesus Demo, what did he do to you? lol)

“They’re going to bury what’s left of you in a soup can!”

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Heavy:

(No character specific lines but I still enjoy them)

“You are dead. Not big surprise.”

“Killing you is full time job now.”

“Entire team is babies!”

“I think you should fight someone much, much smaller!”

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Engineer:

To Scout: “Boy, this here is just gonna keep happening and happening.”

To Soldier: “That there is just a sad display, boy.”

To Demoman: “Drunk on the battlefield ain’t no way to be, son.”

(I love how he calls everyone “boy” or “son” lol)

To another Engineer: “I’m wolverine-mean you son of a bitch.”

To Medic: “You must be a doctor, ‘cause you just saw the extent of my patience!”

(My personal fav)

To Sniper: “Down under? More like six feet down under.”

To Spy: “If ya’ll had more gadgets for killin’, you wouldn’t need so many for hidin’.”

(We love a sassy short king)

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Medic:

(Also doesn’t have any character specific lines, but there are some gems)

“Would you like a second opinion? You are also ugly!”

“I do not think we brought enough body bags!”

“Aww, did the Fraulein’s have their Mittelschmerz?”

(Translation: “Did the ladies get their period cramps?” Damn Medic that is…something lol)

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Sniper:

(Maybe I’m biased but I swear he has the best lines in the game.)

“If your strategy is to build me confidence, it’s working.”

To Soldier: “Oi, lend us your shovel so I can dig your grave!”

(Jesus Christ lol)

To Demoman: “Ace reflexes, you bomb-chuckin’ waste of good scotch!”

To Engineer: You are inventing loads of new ways to get killed by me!” (The freaking sass when he says this, it’s unparalleled)

To Medic: “Sorry, there nurse, I mistook you for an actual threat!”

(OUCH)

To another Sniper: “You’re making this so easy. I’m actually getting worse.”

To Spy: “Aww, did I get blood on your suit?”

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Spy:

“I never really was on your side.”

To Scout: “Here lies Scout, he ran fast and died a virgin.”

(Stop, stop, he’s already dead!)

To Demoman: “Here’s what I have that you don’t: a functioning liver, depth perception and a pulse!”

To Heavy: “You died as you lived…morbidly obese!” (Spy really doesn’t pull any punches lol)

To Engineer: “Did I throw a wrench into your plans?” *laughs*

To Medic: “Aww, you almost healed me to death that time!”

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Gosh this took me way longer to write than I would’ve expected so I hope somebody reads it lol

Comment below with your favourite TF2 line (or put it in the tags). I have to know!

#TF2 #hopefully the outline of this isn't too confusing #I tried to make it as neat as possible #my list #my thoughts

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cloudninetonine · 2 years ago

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Linktober: Withered

(Me: I'm gonna keep on schedule guys! :D, Also me: *Doesn't keep on schedule* PLEASE FORGIVE ME, I'M JUST SO HORRIBLE AT KEEPING TRACK OF THINGS- Also, this story is based on Spirit Tracks Link, but I've never played Spirit Tracks and have no idea on the character, so I tried to use socialc1imbs (I'm not gonna tag them just in case they're not a fan of this kind of writing) SO I HOPE HE'S OKAY)

You knew that Spirit could see ghosts.

It was a fact.

But not in the “I see dead people.” sort of way, no he wasn’t terrified by it, the blonde saw it in a Ghost Whisper sort of sense. When he saw those beyond death, walking around either grieving a life lost or begging for those to help finally rest their suffering soul he was ready to help without much thought- the hero in him really, with a kind heart and determined heart like his brother of the sails and winds.

Speaking of the Sailor, you knew the boy supported the same gift, usually accompanying his twin to complete a favour or two to allow the dead to pass the veil and finally let them have their eternal sleep- or whatever may lay beyond death.

You knew they could see them because you could see them too.

No idea how such a thing came to be, you weren’t a seer or labelled any such back in your world, but suddenly you had woken up and people of a heavenly blue walked in the land of the living.

You weren’t sure what to feel at that moment, excitement? Fear? Confusion was certainly there.

The Dynamic Duo had discovered such a fact when crossing through the ruins of a ruined farm within the traveller’s timeline, burnt to the ground by a hoard of monsters wanting to cause chaos for the sake of causing it, a barn of cattle losing their lives within the embers never to be seen again. The two had dodged and weaved through the many wandering ghosts, mooing in distress while the other heroes walked straight through without a care in the world.

It was only when Spirit and Wind had turned back they saw you on the horizon, cooing towards a little ghost foal who trotted after you merrily, the hoard meeting the two of you halfway before disappearing with a blink of an eye.

You were roped into their very good deeds as soon as it was confirmed.

“This is trespassing, Engi, I don’t think-”

“This is the only way to help Mrs Seine pass on!”

“Okay, but, listen- I don’t want to be chased by some madman with a pitchfork like last time.”

Wind had caught something earlier within the week when you had settled in a lovely country, sick as a dog, the decision was made that you would all be staying until he had recovered- a good one.

Spirit and you had taken the chance to check out the place in the meantime, after all, it was cosy and you weren’t about to be cooped up in the inn any longer. So you explored, chatting to a few villagers about possible black-blooded sightings or a shadow with no owner- alas you fell short, but that was nothing to fret, not with Mrs Seine sat within her withered garden as she wailed about her precious plants.

You had both looked at one another before approaching her.

And now you were here, in her garden with fallen flowers in the dead of night to feed them a concoction of red potion, sap, water and some other things you didn’t quite know, only associated with the art of gardening.

“She said Mr Seine sleeps like a log!” Spirit whispered-shouted, kneeling down to yank at some of the invasive plants. “We’ll be fine as long as we’re not hooting like some sort of train!”

“Yes, but, Mr Seine also has neighbours I don’t want them deciding to be neighbourly and beat the ever-loving shit out of us!”

“Just pour the potion!”

“Watch your tone before I kick you, brat!”

“You’re too slow, you old coot!”

A curse tickled your tongue before you jumped as Mrs Seine’s voice wailed about her garden once again, hurrying to lift the watering can over some petunias by your feet. “Alright, god damn.”

“Coward.” The snicker had landed the blonde head first into the grass when you kicked him.

“Slowpoke.”

An hour or so later the both of you were finally done, panting from the hard work, sweating like a pig in a slaughterhouse and covered in dirt but still proud, looking over the restored garden with the variations of colours, standing proud under the light of the moon which shone down directly on you both.

Proud was the word you would use, not for you but for the boy under your arm, looking over your shared labour. It was expected of a hero to be good of heart but to see it in action truly filled you with such a feeling, overjoyed to be the tilted “Guide” of someone who was just kind. Spirit (as well as Wind) had done these things because they wanted to, were good to these ghosts because they could, they didn’t want a thing out of this, no form of payment, just to see the joy over the dead’s faces when a favour could be fulfilled.

Mrs Seine’s face was definitely worth it. The black tears of anguish finally fading away to show her old face lighten, a smile breaking through with gratitude in her eyes as she gently stroked over her prized possession; cupping a single rose within the rich rose bush with a fondness of a lifetime, turning to you both a final time.

“Thank you.” And with that, she was gone.

A silence settled between you both when you finally squeezed him to your side, catching his eyes when he looked up at your face. “You’re a good kid, Link.”

His own smile broke out as he opened his mouth to respond- only for the sound of the back door opening to cut him off.

You didn’t even wait to see the look of Mr Seine before throwing the boy under your arm and leaping over the small wire fence, racing into the night.

#Linktober #Linktober 2022 #linked universe x reader #linked universe #lu #linked universe imagine #player au #a player's aid #lu Spirit

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ink-on-the-brink · 3 years ago

Note

How do you feel about ns*w prompts?

If you want, how about how medic, sniper and engie are acting during sexy times ? Or foreplay if you prefer !

I've been kinda thinking about doing stuff like that for a while so I decided why not now? It's not gonna be my first time writing it but it is my first time posting this stuff so fair warning.

NO CHILDREN BEYOND THIS POINT I SWEAR TO GOD DON'T YOU DARE-

Medic

Okay so like, I don't know if it's just me but like I kinda see Medic as a bit ace? Like he doesn't usually think about that type of stuff and it's very rare that he feels this sort of pull, but he won't reject doing it if you want to either.

You'd need to be very blunt with the man. It's not that he's dumb, he just doesn't pick up well on social cues in the first place so he doesn't want to assume anything.

He's never one to initiate. Like ever. You want some? You best come get it.

Kinks? Literally whatever the fuck you're into. Man does not give a fuck. He'll indulge in the most insane shit if you're up for it. He had no line that can't be crossed. He loves experimenting. (I mean that's what he does 98% of the time anyway)

Mega switch. He can be the absolute whiniest sub and the most controlling dom. It's almost scary how good he is at both.

Foreplay can be common or not happen at all. Again it depends entirely on what his partner wants and if you want him to spend an hour just touching you then that's exactly what he'll do.

He holds no shame if caught. Everyone knows better than to say shit to the person that's literally in charge of their bodily functions. No one dares to say a word if they catch the two of you.

He will often slip into German in the heat of the moment so whatever he saids is completely lost on you. (He's honestly just saying random shit but you don't need to know that)

His favorite position is downward dog. Something about hearing your muffled moans just kinda does it for him.

For him, it's more of a casual thing. Like a 'sure, why not'.

Overall whoever he's with gets to decide what smexy time will be like.

Sniper

This man has one hell of a sex drive. It's honestly surprising he hasn't exploded from the number of times he's found himself in a situation where he just really needed that release but couldn't get it that moment.

One small comment, purposeful or not, has him wanting you. There have been more than a few times he's heard the wrong meaning in your words, flustering and really pushing him.

He doesn't initiate it so much as you can see that he really really needs it. He'll deny himself no matter how worked up he gets and it's up to you to shove some reality in his face and give him what he wants.

Man is a full dom when he's in the mood though. I'm talking you won't even know what's happening before he has you against a wall, whispering the dirtiest things you've ever heard in your ear. Which is frankly surprising since he was usually so easily flustered. It's almost shocking how quickly he changes from flustered mess to confident and absolutely fucking H O T.

He doesn't venture into the world of kinks much. He likes it rough and messy, not complicated. He'd rather be the one to hold you down than have some rope do it for him. That doesn't mean he won't try if you ask though.

He draws a hard line with extreme stuff. He will never harm you and would never like to be harmed by you.

If he trusts you enough, and you play your cards right, he can become a melted mess. Sometimes he just really likes to give up all control to you and honestly, it just makes him hotter.

He's definitely the type to use semi-demeaning words but not in a way to put you down. Something like 'you're such a good lil' slut for me'

Voyeurism is something he's turned on about but deathly afraid to do. He's had many a fantasy of fucking where he might get caught but actually getting caught would probably embarrass him to unimaginable lengths. So to indulge in these fantasies he'll do so when you both go camping. No one's around yet the thrill is still there.

He most often likes to fuck you into a wall of some kind. He likes how the position makes it a bit harder to look at anything but him. Your expressions are what he practically lives for.

Foreplay is rare. He's often too worked up to think about it. He mostly likes to get straight to the good part. So when he gives you the reins he can often be even more of a mess if you prefer soft touches and a slower session.

How casual it is depends on how long he's been with you. For the first year they tend to be more rare and often very intense sessions. Once he's more comfortable with you though it can become extremely common and more casual with those intense sessions sprinkled in now and then.

Overall he's a bit hard to predict. You'll start off thinking he's going to be a nervous mess under your fingers before he turns around and fucks you until you can't stand anymore. Then after a while you get to take control and do the same to him.

It's a win/win

Engie

A decent sex drive. Usually he's very good at controlling his urges and keeping them in check but when he wants it damn does he want it bad.

He's a man of words. Nothing, and I mean nothing will get him going faster than a suggestive comment. Keep talking and you'll have him hooked in moments.

Despite what one might think, Engie is a dom. Look, you listen to him when his voice gets deep and tell me he doesn't use that tone to turn on whoever he's with. Man's knows every way to turn someone on without even touching them.

Is most likely the one to initiate. He likes to start it off with a little bit of light touching so it's very often that he turns what was supposed to be a cuddle session or a short kiss into something a lot more.

HUGE praise kink. He's going to compliment each part of your body in the sexiest way he can. Stuff like 'ya sound beautiful when you're beggin sweetheart' and 'ain't you just the most perfect thing ah've ever seen'. He is going to make even the most stone-cold mercenary flush with how good he is at talking dirty.

Foreplay is this man's forte. He's good with his hands and his tongue and you can be damn sure he's using both to his advantage. Kisses all around your body, whispered words that send shocks through your skin, soft touches that send shivers down your spine, he's good at it all.

To him it has to be intimate. He's not one for casual. If he's going to do anything with you it's going to be slow and romatic. He doesn't like anything quick, it just doesn't do it for him. He wants to hold your body, to feel every bit of skin revealed to him.

He doesn't want anyone disturbing his moment with you and it will annoy him to no end if someone does. He'll quickly cover you before throwing whatever's closest to him at whoever disturbed the session. Despite this, he has a huge thing for spontaneous sessions rather than planned ones. This means that you two have done it more than a few times in his workshop. Luckily at this point everyone's learned to just not come in if the doors are closed, no matter how important it is. He's not going to talk or help anyone until he's finished.

He has a different set of nicknames that are saved especially for smexy time. These include 'cute lil' thing, sugar, angle' and a few others. Upon hearing any of those nicknames you'll know exactly what he's planning to do.

He likes it when you ride him. He very much enjoys the hold he has on your hips as you bounce on top of him, not to mention your face contorted in pleasure that he gets a front-row seat to.

Overall he's a man of foreplay and long passionate sessions.

#tf2 #reader x tf2 #tf2 x reader #engie #medic #sniper #tf2 engie #tf2 medic #tf2 sniper

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aggressive-positivity-network · 4 years ago

Note

do any of the mercs play board games?

Mercopoly (Board Game

Headcanons)

Scout:

You think he has enough of an attention span to play something that doesn’t involve sweating out his energy drinks?

Hell no!

He gets very bored very quickly, especially with something complex like chess.

He’ll play cards sometimes, but only Crazy Eights and Go Fish - that’s all he knows how to play.

However, there is one true board game he plays occasionally: Candy Land.

It’s one of the few board games that you don’t really have to read the rules for, and there isn’t any writing on the cards.

However, he only asks to play it when he’s not feeling very well.

Medic even has a page in his medical journal for the mercs that says, and I quote:

“The Scout has an extremely short attention span, and if an activity isn’t active or immersive, he will not stay long. If at any point he chooses a sedentary activity, a check-up is in order.”

As sad as it is, a request to play Candyland is a good way to know if Scout needs a little extra reassurance or support.

By the end of the game, Scout usually feels more himself, whether he wins or not.

Engie is especially good with Scout when he’s this way, being the one of the most emotionally sensitive of the group. But he also knows Scout would never admit straight-away how he was feeling, so he usually has a more fun way of getting answers.

“You feelin’ more like a King Candy or a Lord Licorice?”

“...Fudge Monster.”

“That bad, huh?”

“Yeah...”

Spy:

If you ask him, he will most likely go off on a tangent about chess, and how it’s a game of strategy, deception, and crushing your enemy with your wit.

He scoffs at any other game, and constantly makes fun of several of his more intelligent peers for finding interest in them.

“You are mercenaries. Blood-thirsty killers of men. And you are playing ‘Hungry, Hungry Hippos’ like a hoarde of kindergartners?”

But one thing he cannot resist is Sorry.

He considers it above normal board games because it has strategy - or at least that what he says.

He actually just likes it because it’s a game of revenge, which is like a drug to him.

He’s gotten so good at it that if he asks you to play Sorry with him, it’s almost guaranteed that he’s mad at you and just wants to let off some steam by giving you a horrendous loss. However, occasionally, he’s the one who loses.

Spy isn’t a poor sport, exactly - he’s too cultured for that - but sometimes his pride outweighs his manners and he convinces himself that the other player cheated through made up signs of deception.

He simply “allows” them to win because he “doesn’t want to make a fuss.”

But god help the unfortunate soul who decides to rub their win in his face.

Sniper had won five games in a row, and it was clear Spy was getting hot under the collar.

Sniper ended their games with a mischievous, “You’ll get ‘em next time, tiger.” and a small pat on his shoulder.

Spy immediately saw red, grabbed Sniper’s hand, and before the aussie knew it, he was against a concrete wall with a butterfly knife to his throat.

“I could kill you right now. Your final cry for Medic will be drowned in blood, and I would leave you here to die a painful, dramatic death. You’ll be replaced with a rusted trash can of a bot until they could grow another clone of you. Every memory will be gone. The team will be shrouded in grief, not because of losing you, but losing what the clone can never have. And I shall bide my time, ask the clone to play the same game, and kill them when they win. Another clone, another kill. And again. And again. And again. You think the Manns give a damn as long as their work is getting done? You will never be able to form a single thought before I spill your blood - caught in an eternal prisoner’s dilemma where you always lose.”

After gathering his bearings, Sniper finally spoke.

“Is this about your takeout?”

Spy scoffed.

“Do you really think - !”

“Tonight, my treat if you don’t kill me.”

Spy squinted.

“Egg rolls?”

“And an extra order of crab rangoon.”

“Your treat?”

“Yep.”

“How do I know you won’t poison me?”

“Chemical test before and after the food arrives.”

“How do I know Medic isn’t in on it?”

“Miss Pauling as a witness and Scout as an overseer. Pauling’s main objective is to keep us alive, and Scout can’t do bloody anything subtle, even if he wanted to. You can also play back the cameras in the lab, if the mood really struck ya.”

Spy held Sniper against the wall for a minute or two while he thought it all over, then let Sniper fall to the ground.

“I don’t need your sympathy, bushman. But you had better keep your end of the deal. I am the only backstabber around here.”

Demo:

Can’t even stay awake long enough to play most board games.

On the rare chance that he’s sober, he, Engie, and Medic like to play Monopoly.

Here’s the thing: you should never ask a drunkard, an engineer, and a sadist genius to play Monopoly together. It will not end well.

They have been playing the same game for years, with new rules in place and physical extensions to the board in order to try and end the game. Every other Friday, they take the weekend to try and finish it.

However, it all ends up fruitless.

Demo is usually the one keeping the peace, since he is the least competitive out of the three. That isn’t to say he isn’t clawing for the win as much as the other two, but he is definitely the least invested. He’s mostly staying out of principle.

“If there’s one thing I’ve learned, ‘s ta ne’er give up, e’en when the goin’s gettin’ tough. Roll the dice, doc.”

Despite his confidence, he’s not even sure what he would do if he or anyone else won. It would seem more like a relief than a celebration.

Medic:

He’s the one who started the Eternal Monopoly game, which has led to some theories that the game itself came straight from hell, and is one of the many punishments used on sinners. The box does smell a bit of brimstone…

He seems to enjoy the chaos that each round brings and the challenge of coming up with new rules to the game. To any outsider, his commentary and directions are complete nonsense.

“According to zhe ‘Calvinball Rule,’ as stated by Engineer, and the ‘Double Kill,’ as stated by myself, since the current time ends vis a three and ve all received at least two kills zhis veek, ve need to double every other roll and whomever loses zhe resulting game of ‘Bim Bum’ vill have to go to zhe Purple Jail.”

The rules and mechanics are like an unholy amalgamation of Monpoly, Sorry, chess, D&D, Bluff, and poker.

However, when Medic isn’t stapling pages of rules together, he likes to play a nice, relaxing game of checkers with Heavy.

Both of them are excellent checker players, but neither of them care who wins.

In fact, they usually talk over the game, taking the other player’s pieces as one of them shares a story from that day’s battle.

They’ve even played while Heavy was in surgery - leading to many unfortunate times when Medic had to fish a piece out of Heavy’s intestines.

One would think that a genius doctor would also have a passion for chess, but he expresses his disdain for it almost every time the checker board is brought out.

“Ach, people think chess is such an intelligent sport. Let me tell you, liebling, it is terribly overrated. If zhe devil can play chess, anyvun can. He might as vell just give souls avay, vis those shaky claws of his.”

Engineer:

Being the engineer, he is usually the one to add to the Eternal Monopoly.

Pieces, board extensions, cards, trivia - it gives him a nice break from all the weaponry.

He’s usually the one who remembers all the mechanics and rules, and serves as the judge if rules contradict each other.

“Alright, now let’s see here…we’ve got the Infinity Loop over here, but now you’ve got the Time Travel card…how many years? Infinite? Ho boy…looks like I’m gonna have to add a Hilbert’s Hotel square somewhere. Hold on…”

Despite his affinity for Eternal Monopoly, Engineer will play almost any board game. He learns new rules and figures quickly, and enjoys the challenges that brings.

However, if he’s particularly burnt out, he likes to take a break by playing Jenga. He and Spy have a friendly rivalry, since Engie can tell which blocks are supporting and Spy has quick fingers.

Spy, oddly, is a lot more amiable losing in Jenga - he knows Engie won’t think less of him - but Engineer hates when the bricks fall over. Not because it means he lost, but because, to him, it’s a failure on his part…even if it was someone else that knocked it over.

He’s made several blueprints for the perfect Jenga game, but has concluded that no human hand could put it into practice.

During one particularly bad day, Engie bumped the table, causing the whole column to come crashing down. Spy had already recovered from the noise, but Engie was still standing there, stone-faced.

His eyes were covered by his goggles, but it was clear he was crying.

Several of his machines had broken on the job, and to him, this was just another egregious mistake.

Spy carefully put the blocks back in the container, and Engie came to his senses.

“I’m real sorry, Spy. Maybe another time…?”

Spy only nodded. He was thinking.

The next time they played, Spy brought out a different container.

Instead of wood, the bricks seemed to be made of a sturdy foam.

“They fall a bit more…quietly,” Spy explained. He dropped one, and it only made a small bouncing sound. “Pyro uses these, but they allowed me to borrow it.”

Engie was a bit skeptical at first, since it was a new material, but he got the hang of it rather quickly. He was almost ecstatic the first time it fell - the blocks barely made any sound at all!

After a few games, Spy had to leave for an assignment. Engie put a hand on their arm.

“Thank ya, Spy. Maybe you ain’t the cold-blooded backstabber I thought you were.”

Spy chuckled, but said little else. He didn’t want to admit that noise sensitivity plagued him as well.

Pyro:

Pyro loves board games, and has quite the collection in their room.

Each plastic piece is at least a little melted, and all the boxes have two or three scorch marks.

Hungry Hungry Hippos, Candyland, and Uno are among her favorites.

He is an absolute beast at Uno, though.

They take each game very seriously, especially when they can convince the whole team to play.

As you can imagine, it’s pure chaos - it even led to a rule in the Merc Guidebook: “When playing Uno with three or more players with the inclusion of a Pyro, at least one Mann Co. representative and/or a mediating Medic must be present.”

Pyro has been known the hide cards, bribe players, or even try to set flame to competition. Playing Uno is almost like a mission, with weapon preparation and Spy posing as other players.

The mercs even have a betting stand that Sniper runs. All parties have lost a lot of money that way.

It’s pretty much the only time outside of battle that the team remembers how cruel and malicious Pyro can be.

Sniper:

Conventional board games aren’t exactly his forté, but he does enjoy a bit of cards every once in a while - Solitaire being his favorite.

He even has a pack of cards in his Sniper Square for that exact purpose. It allows him the pass the time without having to look away from his targets too often.

On occasion, he could be pressed to play poker, but only if the stakes weren’t monetary (i.e candy pieces, crackers, duties, etc.).

His favorite part of every match is shuffling the cards. Pretty much every merc could shuffle cards, but Sniper could make them almost float with how quick his fingers and wrists moved. He always began the game with a new trick he learned, which delighted his fellow players (usually Spy, Engineer, Medic, and Demo).

You could always tell if he had a busy day because he would avoid tricks with too much movement, which would be murder on his sore fingers and hands.

Pyro is currently learning card tricks from Sniper, and show off what they learn at the beginning of every Uno game.

Heavy:

He isn’t a huge fan of the bright, plastic-y board games that Pyro has, although he will play them if asked.

It’s mostly because of how complicated the rules are and the fact there are almost never a Russian translation for the directions.

He always prefers checkers, cards, or mancala, which he almost exclusively plays with Medic because he’s the only one who speaks fluent Russian.

Heavy can play a mean game of mancala, though, and it’s the only game he can beat Medic at.

Soldier:

The only games he will play are Battleship and Uno - but only after Miss Pauling convinced him it was “American enough” because the game had red, white, and blue cards.

He prefers the electronic Battleship because of the sound effects and voices. However, if it’s out of batteries, he’ll make his own sound effects.

Miss Pauling is the best at pretending to be a commander, so she’s usually the one playing with him - but, sometimes, Demo gets in on the action, too.

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radiotorn · 2 years ago

Note

TF2 ASK MEME... THE EVENS

DAMN HOMIE‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️ thank u ok under the cut bc it's a lot:)

2- Who is your favorite mercenary? Mmeehehhehehehe Demoman :] i kiss him and rotate him in my brain

4- Do you have a favorite tf2 pet? If so then who? oh my god ARISTOTLE!!!!!!! I don't care if it's not canon or whatever i love spys bird so much i want you to all look at this bird

6- If you are in the fandom, how did you get into the fandom? Im not really in the fandom besides occasionally drawing the mercs im just in my little bubble of mutuals who are the only right people about any of the characters. everyone else can stay quiet though

8- Did you find out about tf2 by the game, sfms or the comics first? None! i found out abt the game YEARS ago From this YouTube poop, used as a flipnote i cant find anymore. But from there, it was the "Meet The" videos i must of stumbled upon randomly???

10- Favorite quote from the Meet the… videos? engies "best hope…not pointed at you" bc i remember being like !!!! :OOO!!! FUCK!!! thats badass . when i first watched it

12- Favorite quote from the comics? okay it probably doesn't count but its one that sticks its the screen on admins monitors waayy back in the beginning that say "miss pauling. hide." sticks with me bc it is just a little haunting like…. :)

14- Do you have any OTP(s)? if so then what? hmm…i like a lot of pairings but ones that i find extra nice and awesome is swordvan, spy and heavy (idk their name but they r criminally underrated and i enjoy them together), engie and demo(i also dont know their name cries) and boots n bombs. sniperspy is fun sometimes tho

16- Do you have a BROTP? if so then what? i LOVE pyro and heavy ok i think they are the best like they. i cannot even put it into words they're everything to me. scout and sniper are also buddies too

18- Favorite headcanon? this is extremely self indulgent and like not backed by anything but pyro is hungarian and mexican. this is so true to me forever and ever. i also really like the hc that soldier enjoys painting

20- Do you have a favorite tf2 fanfiction? If so, what is it? Oh my god i will link it to you RIGHT MEOW!!! Tori u already know but to anyone else pls give it a read and check out this authors other works they fuck

22- Do you have any tf2 ocs? If so, then tell us about them!! IIII DO! I won't go into too much detail, but i have The Horticulturist(Horti) and The Pathfinder(PF). Both are Hungarian, Horti is involved with agriculture/plants/etc and PF is an ex-aperture employee with memory issues and menthal illness plaguing him all the time that makes sure battlegrounds r safe to fight on and that their base isn't falling apart they're strung together by spaghetti noodles

24- What is your favorite (official or unofficial) SFM? this, this or this

26- What is your favorite tf2 comic? i think blood in the water bc of just how much fking happens but also idk i like all of them a lot. especially 7 :')

28- Is there a character you hated at first but now you love? not particularly there is still hatred in my soul for c!heavy always

30- Which character is underrated? Demo, Heavy and Soldier. We all know this FAR too well :| it's a damn shame because i love all of them so so SO much especially demo he's my husband i kiss him every day and night

32- Who was your favorite character when you first got into the fandom? Did it change? Oh Yeah. My fav at the start was Medic, and then it shifted to Sniper, and now it's Demo/Heavy <3 though i frankly find myself loving all of tha mercs they all make me smile

34- Favorite moment from the comics? seeing admin all decrepit and dying bc she looks very gorgest to me. or when sniper gets shot because my god? or when we see engie at all. i love him. i always wished they did more with pyro in the comics tho :(

36- Do you have a favorite AU? What is it? I'm not sure??? I haven't seen too many AU's besides like monster or aquatic or freaks if they even count. though i guess technically qu/azies po/otis vids are an au so that for sure!!!!!!!

38- What is your favorite cosmetic? i would say Aristotle again but i mentioned it earlier soooo perhaps the seared sorcerer for pyro …but COMBINED with discovision!!! you wish you were me (me pictured below)

#THANK YOUUUUU help im insnae and must speak #owen.file #asks #tealbyabbey

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hankwritten · 4 years ago

Text

Lies, Damned Lies, and Valentine’s

Day 7 of the valentine’s day event, Whole Team

“Have the RED team vandalized us in the middle of the night?” Medic asked, gazing around the common room which had been papered with tiny hearts. “What is with all the pink?”

“Ach, it’s Valentine’s day, boyo!” Demo told him with a hearty slap on the back. “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten.”

Medic adjusted his glasses, which had fallen out of place with the overzealous display of masculine affection. “My wife and I are…estranged. I have not celebrated a Valentine’s day in a very long time.”

“Well, so long as you made your cards, you’re celebrating just fine.” When Medic didn’t respond, Demo pressed a, “you did make some cards, right lad?”

“Cards for who? I told you I have not spoken to-”

“For the team ya quack,” Demo snorted. “We always make cards for each other on Valentine’s day.”

“…Like kindergarteners,” Medic asked drily.

“Don’t be such a stick in the mud doc,” Demo elbowed him. “It’s a tradition.”

Medic crossed his arms, and kicked a small paper heart that had fallen on his shoe. “Well no one told me about it.”

At that, Demo finally paused. “Ah, I suppose everyone forgot to mention it to the rookie. Don’t worry though!” This time, Medic dodged the pat aimed at his shoulder. “Everyone knows you only got here a month or so ago, they won’t hold you to any obligations.”

“What a relief.” Medic rolled his eyes.

He was able to put the ridiculous conversation out of his mind thanks to the oncoming battle, slinging on his pack with a feeling of purpose. Dealing with REDs and avoiding Spies took most of his concentration, as a day that he went about distracted was a day he’d find quite a few Sniper shots through his head. However, as much as he’d dismissed Valentine’s by the midday break that afternoon, it appeared his teammates hadn’t.

He’d followed Heavy to the cover of the sentry nest, but as his partner was filling up Sasha, he noticed that Engie had laid out a few pieces of folded paper on top of the dispenser. Medic wandered closer. It took him a moment to parse what he was seeing, but then he remembered the travesty that had become of the common room and realized Demo had been dead serious about Valentine’s Day. Engineer’s valentines were spread out neatly, all unique, all cheerfully signed by members of the team. Scout had draw a rather good rendition of the man himself standing next to his sentry, a little heart between them. Sniper had written ‘THANKS TRUCKIE’ in block letters. Even Soldier had put in some effort, as he had used red, white, and blue construction paper to make what might have been the shape of Texas if you squinted enough.

Nearby, Pyro was showing off their own collection. Scout had also drawn a picture for them (of Mayor Balloonicorn), which they had delicately set in the grass, their other cards out before them. The one from Engie they were attacking with vigor, since the Engineer had been forward thinking enough to glue tiny pieces of candy to the folded paper.

“They’re all real nice Pyro,” he was chuckling. “Though maybe put them back in your pocket? Don’t want them to get dirty.”

Pyro nodded, and began shuffling them back into a pouch within their chemsuit.

“They take this very seriously, don’t they?” Medic noted absently about the pair.

Heavy, having loaded on the ammo required, turned and saw Medic mulling over Engineer’s cards. “Oh, da! Every year. We do not spend holidays together, so for team, is closest thing.”

As he spoke, he reached into his front pocket. Something with Demo’s handwriting dashed all over it appeared in his hand, obnoxiously saccharine with its copious hearts and overuse of the color red. Yet the Heavy Weapons Guy displayed it proudly, and Medic offered him a wry smile.

“I had no idea,” Medic mused.

“…Team forget to tell you?” Heavy rumbled. “Heavy see. Heavy wondered why doctor did not give him one.”

Medic coughed lightly into his hand. “I wasn’t aware until this morning-”

“No, is alright. Heavy’s little joke.” He patted Medic on the shoulder, which was (surprisingly) more reserved than Demo’s attempt at the same. “We kill RED babies, that is gift enough, da?”

Medic agreed, and followed him off into battle. However, this time the threat of the loving spirit stuck, and Medic found himself skewered on the end of the Spy’s knife more than he was comfortable with. He tried to shake himself, to forget his teammates’ foolish obsession, but one thought kept rankling him: he might have not known to send out cards, but why hadn’t anyone gotten him anything?

They returned to BLU base with an embarrassing loss on their collars, though you wouldn’t know by looking. Everyone was in the common showing of their haul, passing around heart shaped cookies that someone had made last night and stuffed in the fridge. Medic tried one, and nearly gagged on how much sugar had been crammed into such a small package.

Apparently everyone had gotten the same memo about Demo’s cards, as each one came with a tiny novel vodka attached. Demo peeled off the last one (from Soldier with a picture of a shovel on it, saying simply I Dig You) with the utmost care, lining them up next to his whiskey bottle.

“Look!” he grinned to Soldier. “Me scrumpy’s birthed a litter!”

Soldier, who had taken to taping his own cards to his helmet, slapped him on the back. “Congratulations! You’re a grandfather!”

Scout, like Pyro, couldn’t help but flaunt his, claiming that he got the most out of anyone. When Sniper pointed out that everyone got seven cards, he pivoted to say, “yeah well mine are the best, quality over quantity Snipes.”

Medic shouldn’t have been irritated. He didn’t care about Valentine’s Day, not in the slightest, so why was he getting so terse about his teammates’ holiday cheer? Of course they didn’t get cards for the rookie, they probably would have gotten cards for their old Medic, not him.

That thought itself would have put anyone in a sour mood, but the tipping point was when he walked the corner and saw Spy delicately arranged bits of red-hued paper into a manila folder, smiling slightly as he set the last one down. Medic was close enough to read, saw Sniper’s handwriting, and also that the poem it was quoting was incomplete. How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. / I love thee to the depth and breadth and height. The next two lines were missing— Medic knew enough of poetry to glean that—which meant Sniper probably had the other half. All shuffled always with the other ones he’d gotten from Scout and Engie and Demo and whoever, but the most important thing Medic could determine from the display was all those people had given Spy valentines too. Spy. Medic’s eye twitched. Before he knew it he was barreling past Spy, out past the others in order to get to the hallway. There were a couple exclamations of confusion, a few calls asking what was wrong, but Medic ignored them all.

He didn’t need their obligatory attempts to include him, he could see when he wasn’t wanted.

“Doctor! Wait!”

He considered not stopping for the deep voice behind him, but unless he wanted to go charging off onto the battlefield, his path would eventually take him back around base. He sighed, and turned to face the man behind him.

“Can I help you?” Medic snapped. There was no use pretending he wasn’t miffed.

“What is the matter?” Heavy asked. “Have not seen you this angry before.”

“Well that is not a big surprise considering we barely know each other, apparently.” Medic crossed his arms.

Heavy furrowed his brow. Always a man of few words, he either didn’t know what to say, or figured it was better not to antagonize Medic further, and so he settled for waiting for his teammate to elaborate.

Medic relented eventually, shoulders sagging as he exhaled. “I realize I am not…part of the team so to speak. I understand I am not as close to you all as your old Medic was, and I do not blame you for not including me, but it is still…difficult to watch everyone open cards and…not receive any myself.” God it sounded so childish when he said it allowed. He was a doctor for god’s sake! He should be above such petty jealousies.

As his self consciousness closed in, he hunched, and failed to look at Heavy. It took the man saying, “doctor did not get valentines? Is not possible,” for Medic to turn back around and see him shaking his head. “At very least, Heavy give card.”

“You…?” Medic unfolded his arms. “When?”

Heavy raised an eyebrow. “Did doctor not check locker?” When Medic blinked, Heavy added, “is where we put at start of day, so none get lost.”

“…Just like in kindergarten,” Medic finished the thought and pinched the bridge of his nose. “God I am such a dummkopf.”

Heavy chuckled, clearly glad to have resolved the situation. “Medic is far from. Come, we look now.”

So Medic did come, entering resupply and walking to his locker, taking a moment to brace himself as he grasped the handle. He turned it. Immediately, he was hit with an avalanche of purple, pink, and red, an absolute tidal wave of valentines rushing out to greet him from where they’d been conglomerating inside his locker like a clogged artery.

There were so many, decorated all with his class symbol or words of thanks. Pyro had made at least four, decorated with crayons and rainbow drawings, sticking slightly where the paint hadn’t dried. Medic picked one off the floor. Scout had drawn Archimedes beautifully, which was astounding considering the two hadn’t gotten along since the Über incident, and it must have been quite a strain to sit still long enough to capture the bird’s likeness. Engie had detailed out a list over every time Medic had saved his bacon in the past month, Spy had written something long and oddly heartfelt, Soldier had gifted him a coupon for one free haircut. The list went on.

It took Heavy gently touching his shoulder while he read Sniper’s uncharacteristically kind letter to realize he was holding his hand over his mouth. He cleared his throat, but despite that still couldn’t find words.

“Medic is part of team,” Heavy stated, matter of fact. “We appreciate. Do not forget that.”

Medic’s eyes fell on a large card, tucked behind the Quick-Fix in the back of the locker so it hadn’t come tumbling out with the rest. This one was unquestionably from Heavy. Medic wasn’t sure how he knew, but he did.

Delicately, he reached out and took it, seeing it was nearly the size of a proper book, made out of two pieces of paper tied with a string. He gently gazed over the words inside, drinking them all in, and then softly spoke, “thank you mein friend.”

“Is no trouble.” Heavy squeezed his shoulder, and Medic could tell his friend was smiling by the chuckle in his voice. “Now! We go. Back to party, doctor should get to show off his cards too.”

“Yes, lets. But ah…not this one though,” Medic finished, softly folding Heavy’s card back up. “This one I will keep here.”

Heavy smiled. “If doctor likes.” With that, Medic followed him back to the party.

#dontneedavalentine2021 #heavymedic

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aifastic · 4 years ago

Text

Winning Lines

The @talesofteufort zine has been shipped, and the PDFs sent! Thank you very much to everyone who contributed. I’m very glad to have been able to participate in this project; it was a wonderful experience and it’s been great working with everyone aaaa ♥

I’m really happy to share my piece for the zine! I really hope you all like it ♥ (Read it below the cut)

Title: Winning Lines Words: 1845 Warnings: None Summary: BLU has a drawing contest. Demo just wants his magazine back.

-----

“ARE YOU MANN ENOUGH TO DRAW THIS BETTER THAN US?”

The header caught BLU’s Demoman’s attention. He’d been reading the latest issue of Hat-Wearing Man when he found the ad at the bottom of one of the pages. There was a somewhat simple drawing of a monkey in a spacesuit. “If you draw Poopy Joe better than our extremely talented artist, we’ll give him the boot—and kick his ass in the process! And your picture will be the new image of our project and you, our lucky friend, will win nothing less than $700 dollars!”

“Huh, it doesn’t look that hard…” he said, pensive. Suddenly, the magazine was snatched from his hands. “Hey!”

“Ohohoh, what’s this?” Scout said, grinning at the magazine. “Hey, I’d win this in the blink of an eye!”

“Oi! Get your own!” Demo took the magazine back. “I’m gonna try this. Mum will love the extra money,” he added to himself.

“Pffft, no way, it’s a waste of mail money, pally. If someone should participate, that’s someone who actually has a chance.”

“Heh.”

They turned around to see Sniper in a corner, grinning.

“What’s your deal, Long Legs?”

“Shut up, ya scoundrel. If anyone has a chance here, it’s me.”

“Oh, yeah?” Demo asked. “Where’s your credentials, mate?”

“Don’t need any,” he said. “Quiet kid, hours at the back of the classroom sketching the teacher being eaten by a croc.” He grinned. “It should be easy as cake.”

“Oi, do ya remember the magazine is mine?”

“I agree, though—the chance should be for whoever’s got the talent.”

Demo sighed. “Aye, alright. But I’m not gonna just give it away.” His face lit up, an idea coming to his mind. “You’ll have to beat me for it.”

“Huh?” Both mercenaries stared at him quizzically.

Demo grinned, eye glinting.

“Let’s have a drawing contest.”

-----

They emptied the kitchen table in order to make room for their sheets of paper, pencils and pens. In the meantime, they threw evaluative gazes at each other, competitive strike flaring up.

The rest of the team slowly wandered to the room to find out what was going on.

“What is noise?” asked Heavy, scratching his chest. Medic, who was right behind him, had just closed it, having found himself too distracted by the ruckus to continue his surgery.

“We’re about to find out who’s gonna win 700 dollars!”

Medic perked up. “I am in. What is the bet?”

“We’re not betting, mate.” Sniper showed him the magazine’s ad. “It’s a contest.”

Medic’s smile turned dangerous. “Even better.”

“Heavy is in, too.”

“Aw, come on, guys! It’s not as if you’re gonna beat me!”

Heavy threw Scout an unimpressed look. “It is fun. I want extra money. I am in.”

“Alright, alright, mate. Sure.” Demo handed them both some extra sheets of paper they'd brought just in case.

Medic excused himself to go search for a couple of pens. On his way out, he almost crashed onto Soldier.

“Ach, watch where you’re going!”

“I need sustenance, maggot! And you’re on my way!” He shoved Medic away, making him stumble on the way out. A couple of German swears could be heard from the corridor. “Hello, everyone!”

“Oh, don’t tell me you’re gonna get in too,” Scout groaned.

“In what?” Soldier inquired, tilting his head. Demo showed him the magazine’s ad.

Engineer peeked over his shoulder.

“Oh, a drawing contest?” he said, looking at it with a fond smile. “Heh. It’s been a while since I tried my hand at one o’ those. But I thought they allowed only one entry per ad?”

“That is point,” Heavy said. “We are fighting to get chance to earn money.”

“Oh…” Soldier grinned. “I’m in, maggots! I actually studied art with Kickasso.”

Everyone stared at him.

“Sure, mate,” Demo said, patting his back and attempting to lead him into the kitchen.

“You don’t believe me!” Soldier looked at everyone. Engie shrugged. Scout picked at his nails, and Sniper scratched the table distractedly. Heavy’s eyes said it all. “I will prove it to all of you!” And he headed to the table, snatching a paper sheet from the pile.

Demo brushed a hand across his own face. “I hope Medic brings enough pens.”

“I’ll go for mine,” Engie said. He added, “And I’ll go look for Pyro; they’ll love this.”

Scout groaned. “Anyone else? Maybe Saxton Hale?”

Spy’s laughter can be heard from a corner of the room.

“Oh, this is priceless. I wasn’t going to butt in, but this looks like too much fun to pass on the opportunity.”

“The opportunity to what?” Scout said, miffed.

“You’ll see,” he said with a glint in his eyes. “Besides, you need a referee, don’t you?”

“Ugh,” Scout said, bonking his head on the table.

-----

Everyone looked at each other from their respective places. Scout’s leg bounced nonstop; Sniper picked unconsciously at his pencil. Heavy’s grip on his pen was strong enough for Medic to worry about it breaking.

“Alright,” said Spy. “You have to draw…” He squinted. “Poopy Joe, following the ad’s instructions; the best artist wins. The rules are: no interfering with anyone’s drawing. No kicking under the table. No destroying anyone’s drawing. No rising up from the table until all this is over. No showing your drawing until everyone is finished. Understood?”

Everyone nodded. Pyro hummed happily.

“Excellent. So, on the count of three: One, two… Three!”

Scout’s pen tore onto the paper. “Shit! Do you have a spare?” Spy handed him one. “Thanks,” he muttered.

The truth was, Scout wasn’t that confident of the fact he was going to win. When it was just him and Demo, he’d been sure he’d win to the unsteady hand of a drunk man. And Sniper was all bragging anyways. But Medic? He’d probably drawn lots of skeletons and stuff at college. And Engineer’s schematics always look exactly like the finished product. Shit. And—did Soldier really paint with Kickasso? Nah, he shook his head. He didn’t think so. Heavy was a wild card, though.

But he had to try anyway! He couldn’t back off now. So he put his all into it.

Engineer turned his sheet of paper down. Hell! That was fast. He tried to concentrate in the lines that formed Poopy Joe, and emulated them the best he could. Damn, his hand was sweaty… He hated drawing. His cousin had always been better at it, and it pissed him off even now, far from home.

He slapped his drawing on the table, face down. “Done!” He looked up to see everyone had finished. Crap.

“Alright, then,” said Spy. “Let’s see what you came up with.”

“Come up with?” That had many meanings, but the way Spy said it… “What do you mean?”

“The challenge was to improve on the design of Poopy Joe drawn by the artist, not to copy it.”

“Oh, darn,” Engineer said, showing a perfect copy of the Poopy Joe logo. Holy shit. “Guess I got a bit carried away. I’m more used to copying stuff, ya know.”

Soldier snickered.

“Let’s see what you did, Soldier boy.”

“Alright! Look at it and weep!”

He showed them all a mess of lines with dots in seemingly random places.

“Soldier, that’s…” Scout got elbowed by Demo. “That’s cool. What are… those?”

“Those are his eyes!” Oh, God.

“Let’s see Demo’s!” grinned Soldier, confidently.

“Ach, you know I’m no artist, mate,” he said, showing his drawing. It was… Actually, it was pretty decent. His drawing had a cartoonish style that drew everyone’s eyes in.

“Interesting,” said Spy, nodding approvingly.

“Demo did great job,” Heavy said, crossing his arms.

“Aw, thanks, mate.” Demo shrugged it off, somewhat flustered. “What about yours?”

Heavy showed his drawing. It was simple, a single line delineating the silhouette of the monkey astronaut. It was stylish, though it was difficult to guess what it was at times.

“Wonderful, mein freund!” Medic clapped, and revealed his. It was… Oh, my god. “I might have put a bit too much emphasis on his organs.”

“Next!” yelled Scout, tearing his eyes away from the gory drawing. Shit. Now he had to show his. Alright. You can do this, he told himself.

He turned the page face up.

“Mate,” Sniper said.

“Oh, buddy, we made the same mistake.”

“Y’know? I saw RED’s Scout draw once and I secretly thought we were doomed.”

“Oh, shut up!” Scout said, face beet red. It was true, he’d tried to copy the drawing, like Engineer did. And his lines weren’t as sure as Demo’s or Heavy’s. Shit. He screwed up big time.

“It’s good overall, mate,” Sniper said. “You just need more confidence.”

Scout flushed. “What about yours, Mister Expert?”

Sniper grunted, and showed his drawing. Oh, wow. It was really good! The monkey looked like it’d come out of the page and tear them apart. He felt as if he would be able to touch its fur.

“Wow, Slim! That’s one helluva good drawing!”

“Thanks,” he said, grinning. “I told ya: quiet kid.”

“Where is his spacesuit, though?”

His face dropped. “Aw, hell.”

“Hmmmph!” Pyro yelled, pointing at their sheet of paper.

“Alright,” Spy said, grinning along with Engineer. “The moment of truth has come.”

“What do you mean—?”

Holy shit.

The drawing was astounding. The monkey looked cartoonish enough not to look real, but in a way that made the drawing look alive. Everything was there, and in wonderful detail: The space-suit, the stars… Even an additional full moon in the background that was a perfect circle.

“Holy shit, Py!” Scout said. “How did you do that?”

“Hhmph?” Pyro asked, pointing at the moon. Everyone nodded. Pyro mumbled happily, grabbing another sheet of paper, and drew a classical Greek style face, then erased the rest of its features little by little until they got a perfect circle.

Oh, for the love of—

“Well, it seems we have our winner,” said Spy, handing Pyro the magazine. Pyro clapped with glee, running off with it.

“Aw, man. That was totally unfair. You knew this would happen!” Scout pointed to Spy accusingly.

“I had my suspicions,” he said, grinning.

“Hey, maggots,” Soldier said, sniffing. “Is that smoke?”

They all turned around to watch Pyro as they set the magazine on fire.

“Ach! My magazine!” Demo ran and stomped on it. However, many of the pages, including the drawing contest ad, didn’t make it. “Hell. Why, mate?”

“Hmmphmmphmmph!” they said, pointing at everyone in the room, then at their drawings. Then they clapped.

Everyone looked at each other, and found a common understanding. Who knew what Pyro said? But they had the feeling they meant they were all winners today.

“So it was a huge waste of everyone’s time. Fantastic,” Spy said. “Entertaining, though.”

“Shut up, Spy, we were having a moment,” Scout said.

And yes, indeed. Because even though Demo lost his magazine, he left the room with a good feeling inside. And he was sure that the rest felt the same way.

Poopy Joe’s artist could keep his job for another day.

#Team Fortress 2 #fanfiction #BLU Team #Tales of Teufort #Tales of Teufort zine #[♥]

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talk-to-the-mercs · 4 years ago

Text

Audio From R.E.D Base #7

Engineer: Medic? Buddy...

Medic: I am not a dog nor a child.

Engineer: Okay, doc, we gotta talk. This isn’t like you. And right now, when everythin’ is fallin’ apart, we gotta put everything out in the open, whether you like it or not.

Medic: I’m sorry my change of mood is such an inconvenience.

Engineer: That’s not what I said, and you ain’t gonna convince me otherwise. That’s part of workin’ so close. I know you, and you know me. If we both use all our tricks, we’re just gonna end up with a bunch of wasted time.

Medic: [chuckles] Ve have spent too much time together.

Engineer: You’re hidin’ in your work. Know how I know that? ‘Cause I do the same thing. When I’m at my wit’s end, I gotta work. I gotta put my hands on somethin’. The difference is that I face my problem eventually. You never do. You just keep on goin’ until I find ya in passed out with a scalpel in one hand and a heart in another.

Medic: I have lost many specimens that vay...

Engineer: You’re exhausted, Medic. If we’re ever gonna get Spy and Scout and Sniper back together, we’ve gotta have you. You’re the only person that can troubleshoot exactly what we need to do. We can explore this stuff all you want after this is all said and done. But we have what we need right now. You don’t have to do any more. This is enough.

Medic: Enough for you and enough for me are two very different things.

Engineer: That’s the question you need to ask: when is it enough for you?

Medic: Vhen I acqvire all human knowledge, escape death indefinitely, explore the multiverse visout complications, acqvire all existing knowledge, then use said accumulation to rule all of creation like a Lovecraftian god.

Engineer: [sarcastically] Is that all?

Medic: If I have time to write a cookbook in betveen the conquering of all vorlds, that vould be nice. But it’s more of a passion project.

Engineer: So you’re really never gonna be done? That ain’t any sorta healthy. With you bein’ a doctor and all, I thought you knew. Haven’t ya ever heard of burnout?

Medic: Burnout is an excuse for the lazy and the entitled. It isn’t the sound medical condition everyone treats it as.

Engineer: ...

Medic: Vhat is that look for?

Engineer: You know what? I think you’ve been livin’ in a burnout cycle. It’s the same thing every time. Ya get excited about a project, you work on it all day and all night, you forget everything else, and you start getting tired. You don’t sleep until you have to, and then you start shuttin’ yourself in your lab ‘cause you can’t stand to be around any of us. You work and work and work, and work some more, and you practically try to murder anyone that comes in. Sometimes a walk by your lab, and I hear you cryin’ or cursing or even yellin’ at a dove! I don’t speak great German, but I know that things your sayin’ are horrible!

Medic: I...thought the walls were soundproof.

Engineer: Yeah, but the door sure ain’t!

Medic: Engie, I-

Engineer: Let me finish! I don’t give a damn if the devil himself wants this experiment done, I want you to go out there and play checkers with Heavy! Your job is done! Now leave the rest to me.

Medic: But-

Engineer: Read my lips. Your. Job. Is. Done. And if ya can’t understand that, you’ll understand this - if you don’t take your gloves off right this instant, I will tell Miss Pauling that you’ve been mixing your anxiety medication with cocaine!

Medic: You vouldn’t!

Engineer: Like hell I wouldn’t! And when The Administrator puts you through the meat grinder, I’ll turn your lab into a workshop. First day? I will bend every instrument you left behind. Leave ‘em in a pile right next to the door. Second day? I’ll pour oil all over your slab ‘til it’s black!

Medic: You monster!

Engineer: Aw, wait ‘til the third day! I’ll pluck every single one of your doves and use the feathers to fill my pillow!

Medic: ICH HASSE DICH! My doves don’t deserve such grubby hands ending their life! And if you so much as look at my eqvipment, I’ll cross you vis a pufferfish and cut off all your spikes vis a rusty hatchet!

Engineer: [snickering] Yeah?

Medic: And...stop laughing! I’m trying to...[snorts]...yell at you...

Engineer: [laughing] You just get so dramatic when you’re angry. I shouldn’t be laughin’, I’m sorry, I’ll stop...

Medic: I am not a force to be trifled vis! I vill...[tries to keep back laughter] Qvit looking at me like that! Du Bastard!

Engineer: [snickering] I can’t help it!

Medic: [laughing] S-stop! Stop it now!

Engineer: [howling] You sounded like...Marvin the Martian!

Medic: [snorting and laughing] SHUT UP!

[Unintelligable talking and laughter, banging on table, clinking of beakers]

Engineer: [coughing and laughing] I’m sorry, doc, I don’t know why I’m so giggly all of a sudden.

Medic: [sniffing and giggling] Maybe...maybe I could use a break. Ach, that hurt my ribs...

Engineer: We’re both dog tired, Medic. And sometimes, when two men are dog tired, they just...laugh.

Medic: Vait...did you do that on purpose?

Engineer: [coyly] Maybe.

Medic: [snorting] Don’t you get me started again!

Engineer: Okay, okay. Let’s go play a round of checkers. Who knows, maybe there are a few questions for us. Unless ya scared ‘em off.

[END OF TRANSMISSION]

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supercasey · 5 years ago

Text

TF2 RED Headcanons by an idiot that can’t pay attention well enough to read the comics

Back on my bullshit, because I apparently can’t shut up tonight. This is gonna be a big, possibly in-cohesive mess, and will probably have more focus on Scout, Pyro, Sniper, and Spy since they’re my favs, but I still felt like writing down all my dumb headcanons/ideas regarding everyone’s favorite mercenaries (at the moment at least; I might make another post like this later on, hopefully after I’ve read the comics)! Sorry if any of these seem OOC, I’m just goofin’! (Putting this under a readmore because WOW this got LONG)

Every Sunday afternoon, Scout, Pyro, and eventually Sniper when he tells everyone that he's a trans guy, hold a makeshift “Trans Buddy Club” meeting, which mostly consists of Scout mindlessly rambling about drama on base, Pyro nodding along, and Sniper occasionally adding his two cents/spilling tea as well.

Scout can speak fluent French, on account of his mom making sure to teach it to him so he could have more of a connection to his dad, but no one found out until a little after Spy told Scout he was his dad. It wasn’t long after this that Scout revealed that this entire time, he’s known every single thing that Spy's ever said to him in French, but he didn't say anything because he thought it would be funny to keep the ruse going (also because he really liked being praised in secret). Cue Spy freaking tf out because oh no, now his kid knows that he's secretly a huge softie for not only his son, but his whole team.

Sometimes Spy and Scout talk shit in French right there in front of the team, but no one has any fucking idea what they’re saying and to be honest it’s pissing Soldier off the most, much to the father and son duo’s amusement.

Pyro secretly has a little black rabbit named Lucifer (Lucy for short) in their bedroom, which they only take out to get some fresh air and hop around very early in the morning, before anyone else is awake. The only people who know are Medic, Spy, and surprisingly enough Soldier, whose raccoons became friends with Lucy.

Sniper has a goldfish in his RV, but it died three months after he joined the team; he has no idea though because Miss Pauling replaces it every time one passes away, so now Sniper is convinced he has the world’s oldest goldfish.

Scout and Soldier both really want a dog, but they're not allowed to have one on-base. :(

((Heavy plans on sneaking a dog in next Christmas and no one can stop him. It’s gonna be a Border Collie named Bandit, and it gets the most attached to Scout and Heavy.))

Demo is no longer allowed to make mixed drinks for parties; the last time he did, he got everyone so shitfaced that they had to cancel work for three days in a row in order to recover from it.

Continuing off of that: drunk headcanons.

Demoman: Unassuming drunk. Acts like he usually does, unless he’s gotten particularly shitfaced for a party/event, in which case he’ll be slurring so bad that no one can understand him anymore.

Pyro: Giggly drunk. Is just laughing the whole fucking night at nothing in particular, which scares anyone who’s still sober. If they’re too far gone, they’ll start mumbling something that sounds like it’s in Spanish.

Spy: Party drunk. An absolute fucking mess, he’s trying to impress everyone and keep their attention on him, which usually leads to him standing on tables and dancing until he falls and passes out.

Sniper: Sleepy drunk. Out like a fucking light at the slighest bit of alcohol. If he wakes up and keeps drinking though, he’ll just be slurring like Demo, only with a lot more anger in his voice. Let him sleep, or he’ll fucking stab you to death.

Scout: Clumsy drunk. Bumps into anything and everything; eventually has to be given a sippy cup for his alcohol because he dropped three glasses in a row. Talks even faster than usual, until he accidentally fucking pukes on someone.

Soldier: Calm drunk. Instead of getting loud and aggressive like most would think/fear, he’s just… chillin'. Just watches the shitshow as it happens, not even laughing when people get hurt/fall down. Kinda terrifying if we’re being honest here.

Engineer: Depressed drunk. His depression goes through the roof if he has too much, so he doesn't drink more than a few beers if he can help it. If he does accidentally drink too much, he'll be sobbing his eyes out in no time flat.

Heavy: Cuddly drunk. It’s very, very hard to get him drunk, since he’s really good at holding his liquor, but if you do, he’s gonna be hugging and carrying everyone he can get his hands on; you can expect him to have Medic and/or Pyro on his lap once he’s drunk enough.

Medic: Angry drunk. He wants to start fights with fucking everyone, all his rage coming out once he’s had a few too many; god help anyone who tries to stop him. Luckily for all involved, Heavy is more than capable of holding him still until he tires himself out.

BONUS Miss Pauling: Dumbass drunk. With too many bottles in her, she’s gonna be the one shouting and encouraging Spy to act reckless, while also encouraging Engie to drink more because quitting is for losers. Will pass out within an hour or so of downing her first drink.

BONUS The Administrator: Stereotypical drunk. Slurring, stumbling, she’s got the whole nine yards, but she’ll be damned before she let’s anyone see her that messed up. Secretly sips wine at work.

Okay, back to my rambling.

My personal headcanon names and ages for Scout’s older brothers, going from oldest to youngest: Grant 34, Timothy 32, Jacob 31, Arthur 31, Patrick 30, Malcolm 27, Curtis 26, and Jeremy (Scout) 23.

((Also, I’mma go off on my headcanon personalities for them, which are based off of how I’ve tried portraying them in my "Jeremy" fic.))

Grant - 34 years old - Bisexual - Occupation: Veteran/Construction worker - Personality: the oldest of the bunch, he takes it upon himself to keep his little brothers in line/help Ma out as much as he can. Enlisted in the Air Force after he graduated high school, and still takes a lot of pride in his veteran status after serving overseas three separate times. The family peacemaker.

Timothy - 32 years old - Homosexual - Occuptaion: Cartoonist - Personality: the gentlest of his brothers, he often gets roped into helping Grant keep the pack from running too wild. Bit of a softie; loves his husband and loves his job. Closest relationship is with Scout. Doesn’t approve of Scout being a merc but is too scared to say so. The family heart.

Jacob - 31 years old - Heterosexual - Occupation: Freelance guitarist - Personality: the firstborn of the only set of twins, Jacob is a lot more abrasive and instigating than his twin brother. Can’t grow a beard for shit, which pisses him off. Doesn’t get along well with Timmy, despite them both being talented and devoted artists. The family sword.

Arthur - 31 years old - Pansexual - Occupation: Carpenter - Personality: the second born of the only set of twins, Arthur is far more outgoing and nonchalant than his twin brother. Has a beard and loves it more than life. Secretly has a boyfriend, but is too nervous to come out. Gets along better with Jacob after they’ve become adults. The family shield.

Patrick - 30 years old - Heterosexual - Occupation: Hairdresser - Personality: probably the least social of all of the brothers, he prefers staying out of sight and out of mind tbh. Used to practice cutting everyone’s hair when they were kids. Doesn’t talk to his brothers that much, mostly due to being busy/forgetting to call more. The family shadow.

Malcolm - 27 years old - Heteromantic Asexual - Occupation: Wrestler - Personality: the most aggressive and physically competitive of his brothers, there’s nothing he won’t do to win a fight, save for using weapons/lethal force. Hard to get along with, but he still loves his brothers to bits, and was overprotective of Scout when they were younger. The family instigator.

Curtis - 26 years old - Heterosexual - Occupation: Bartender - Personality: was a total fucking mama’s boy growing up, and constantly got in trouble with his brothers for tattling on them. Still argues with Scout every time they see each other. Wants to make Ma proud, but it’s hard for him to keep a job for very long. The family drifter.

Jeremy - 23 years old - Transmale Pansexual - Occupation: Mercenary - Personality: (This is mostly for how he was as a kid) was constantly following his brothers around (especially Malcolm) in hopes of getting in on the fun. Was always treated as the family baby, so everyone was a bit scared to wrestle/fight with him for fear of getting him hurt. Very close to Timmy and Ma. The family runt.

No one on RED team can fucking drive well, save for MAYBE Sniper, but even he hates doing it. Spy gets so goddamn mad within two seconds of driving, Pyro can't stop swerving, Scout drives like a 16 year old who hasn't realized their own mortality yet, Medic jumps at every little inconsistency on the road, Heavy shouts at other drivers for being too slow/fast, Demo's depth perception is shit, Engie drives like a 90 year old grandmother, and Soldier is fine except he will literally shoot at other drivers for tailgating him/cutting him off.

The whole team has designated “Team Bonding Days” thanks to Miss Pauling, which involves playing board games, card games, and video games (in a slightly more modernized AU) together… this, of course, goes badly sometimes. The worst incident they ever had was a bad game of Monopoly that almost ended Heavy and Medic's friendship.

Uno is forever banned from Team Bonding Days. No explanation is needed.

Off the battlefield and in the base, Miss Pauling had the team set up a chore wheel, which is only occasionally followed. Engie is the most dedicated to following it, while Demo and Sniper try everything in their power to avoid cleaning the base.

Spy sometimes disguises himself as other teammates in order to get out of doing his chores, which has led to a lot of shouting matches that ended in Spy being forced to admit it was his fault.

Spy's favorite teammates to disguise himself as are Engie and Scout. He likes being Engie because he gets to be more affectionate with people without being found out, and he can act as Scout incredibly easily due to knowing him so well (tbh he's so good at masquerading as Scout that it's scary).

For Halloween, everyone put their names in Soldier's hat, then proceeded to pull out other teammates’ names to dress up as for their Halloween party. I dunno exactly who would be who, except that Scout traded around to get Spy, steals one of Spy's suits, and just goes around the party bonking people with a plastic baguette he bought online and speaking in a purposefully bad accent.

Spy: Mon fils, you can speak perfect French and you fucking know it. Please stop making a fool of ton père.

Scout: Hohoho, wee wee, I am a fucking frog that gets pegged by baguettes, hoho!

((Spy is this fucking close to committing filicide.))

Everyone can actually cook pretty well, but only very specific things for each merc: Demo can mix and blend drinks (not just alcoholic ones) like it's nothing, Pyro and Heavy like baking, Medic can barbecue anything, Scout knows how to make a lot of shit from scratch (thanks, Ma), Spy and Engie can grill like the true dads they are, Soldier will deep fry every piece of food he eats, and Sniper makes the best soups and stews imaginable.

In order of least to most messy bedrooms: Spy, Heavy, Engie, Sniper, Pyro, Demoman, Medic, Scout, and Soldier. You'd think Scout's would be the worst, but Soldier's room looks like a literal fucking war-zone.

Even when they're not working but get injured in some way (namely from shenanigans/horseplay), people will straight up kill themselves in order to respawn without the injury. The pettiest thing anyone ever respawned off-duty for was Medic suiciding over a tiny ass paper cut.

Demoman is scarily competent at the weirdest of times. For instance, Engie was once trying to figure out how to fix an issue on one of his turrets, only for Demo to stumble over, completely shitfaced, and point out the problem as well as the solution, before passing out under Engie's worktable. Demo doesn't remember this at all.

The first time Engie swore in front of the team in excess (due to dropping a hammer on his foot while he was tinkering), everyone was absolutely horrified because they had only ever heard him say “fiddlesticks” and the like.

Medic's room may not be the messiest, but goddamn is his office a fucking bomb waiting to go off 90% of the time. No one but Medic can find anything in the mess, which is just fine by him.

Heavy likes to sing (mostly just to Sasha) when he's cleaning her in the locker room. The others try to be within hearing range when he does this, because holy fuck, Heavy is a very good singer! He mostly just sings soft songs/lullabies, so his singing is sometimes used by the team insomniacs to help them get some much needed rest.

Okay, another group one. The mercs during shopping trips together:

Demoman: Sneaks a shit ton of alcohol into the cart when no one's looking. Starts complaining if he has to be at the store for too long; will try and sneak away to go home at least once during the trip. Accidentally bumps into a display case and makes a huge fucking mess.

Pyro: Sits obediently in the cart the whole time, occasionally nabbing candy and stuffed animals off of nearby shelves. Will puppy-dog eyes their way into getting everything they grabbed, no matter how much it is.

Spy: Somehow managed to steal an employee uniform and he pretends to work at the store the whole trip; the other mercs keep accidentally falling for it and asking for his help. This all goes to shit when a Karen starts shouting at him over something he didn't do, and he straight up slaps her.

Sniper: King of forgetting wtf was on the list and just grabs shit on the grounds of “Doc said we needed milk, right?” and other such excuses. Knows where everything is despite never having come here before.

Scout: “Gimme the list, I can get everythin' in, like, ten minutes!” Wants to speedrun grocery shopping due to years of shopping with his mom and brothers. Will run loose if left unsupervised and accidentally bust ass on some spilled milk.

Soldier: The one who spilled the milk that Scout busts his ass on. Insists he knows where he's going, but doesn't. Gets into a fistfight with a soccer mom while everyone's waiting to check out; the soccer mom won.

Engineer: Has a full, printed list of everything the team needs, which is organized by aisle number. Is the one who gives into Pyro's begging. Team Dad; keeps an eye on everyone and stops the soccer mom from murdering Soldier.

Heavy: Pushes the cart the entire time. Spends way too money on stuff in the protein shake aisle. At one point runs the cart down the aisle and let's go because Pyro wanted him to, and it ends up crashing into Demo.

Medic: Argues with the pharmacists at the pharmacy counter. Got lost with Soldier until they found Scout unconscious, so he had to perform CPR in the dairy aisle and a fucking paramedic criticized him the whole time; the paramedic hasn't been seen since.

BONUS Miss Pauling: Tries to more or less chaperone this shitshow of a shopping trip. Starts out cheerful and happy, ends up threatening to put child leashes on every last one of these dumbasses.

After Spy taught him how to dance in Expiration Date, Scout goes to him occasionally for advice, such as how to change a tire, how to cook certain things, how tf to do laundry, etc. Spy secretly loves that Scout does this, and tries to help him as much as he can.

Everyone on the team has called Engie “Dad” at least once, even Spy and Medic. No one comments on it.

Medic has been known to go on hour long tirades about anti-vaxxers, with Engie sometimes joining in.

Heavy buys Pyro stuffed animals during his trips to visit his family, which has started a tradition of everyone buying Pyro stuffed animals/toys when they go somewhere without them. Pyro's room is starting to look like a preschooler’s dream bedroom.

Scout calls his mom every other Friday, and he’ll occasionally let his teammates talk to her. Soldier always goes on and on about how good a soldier Scout has been (Scout cries like a baby), Medic tells her about Scout’s latest injuries (Scout damn near chokes him over it), Sniper is just glad to talk to a mom who won’t scold him for the whole phone call, Pyro hums music while Scout’s Ma sings the lyrics for them, Heavy talks about living in huge families with her, Demo asks her how she’s doing and if he can help her out at all, Engie is polite and also praises Scout, and Spy just tells her he’ll call her later before hanging up (Scout punches him for being rude to his mama).

Spy calls Scout's mom on the Fridays that Scout doesn't, mostly to check on her and sometimes to get into some, uh, “steamy” conversations over the phone. Sniper overheard a conversation between them once and now he can't look Scout or Spy in the eyes anymore.

And that's all I've got for right now! I hope you all liked my stupid headcanons!

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fanciful-of-life · 5 years ago

Text

This Time

Buck sat in silence looking out the fire engine window with his hands folded in his lap and his head leaned back against the square headrest of the seat as buildings whizzed by and the sirens above blared, letting those in their path know to get out of the way, heading to yet another emergency. Bumping in the seat as each turn and pot hole is hit at high speed. Eddie sitting ramrod straight, staring straight ahead face passive . No words being spoken between them. Another shift, another day, of the cold shoulder.

He’s seeing Christopher every chance he can get now. Not realizing how much he missed the little boy’s smell, crooked smile and admiring gaze until that first yell of “Buck” and arms thrown around him. Eddie disappearing as soon as he got to their place, while they played and watched movies. Even building a lego firehouse. A Christopher version of a lego firehouse. He was just relieved when Christopher asked him what he thought the creation was and he answered correctly and that smile he received in return that if a heart had the ability to cry would have burst into an ocean far surpassing that of the tsunami they survived in tears.

Shame though stayed behind coursing through him as the nervousness finally subsided but the shame stayed as his little boy babbled on and on about how much he missed him, sleepovers he’s going on now and school. It wasn’t until that shame slammed into his gut of distancing himself from Christopher that he realized that yes he is indeed his little boy. Just like he was Christopher’s Buck.

Shame about Eddie’s dirty little secret.

How could he not know about that?

It’s been forty-three days since Bobby told him he was being reinstated, thirty-two days since his first day back to the 118 and twenty-eight days since he found out about Eddie and the fight club.

It was by accident, of course. Eddie hadn’t spoken a word to him, even when Bobby in his stern “Remember, my house my rules” greeted him at the lockers with the rest of the crew. Then with a slight smirk and a hug with what Bobby would never admit to as misty, watery eyes and an “oh, kid. What am I going to do with you?” The hugs had come in procession. Eddie had just walked off.

As promised Bobby did make him regret it with scut work duty, for a week. The Captain has softened since becoming a step dad. And become more forgiving. Athena had stayed out of it until she saw him one shift, slapped the back of his head and then hugged him. “Talk to your family before being an idiot again.” Were her words to him, then promptly invited him to dinner that night. Bobby opening his mouth and snapping it shut with one glance from Athena. They spent dinner calmly talking. Bobby feeling betrayed. Buck telling him he didn’t know the lawyer was going to use any of that. He thought he was just talking. Telling both Bobby and Athena about the lawyer telling him he should take the millions offered to him instead of listening to him and saying he just wanted his job back. Athena was still coughing after the wine she had spit out at the mention of Buck turning down millions to return to the 118. The lawyer trying to convince him they would never take him back.

He had missed the look between Bobby and Athena, the first of many that night. Never heard her “manipulative bastard.” Buck had explained he felt Bobby had lost faith in him and the hurt at finding out he lied to him instead of just telling him from the beginning that day in the hospital. About how it hurt to have the first man he felt had a positive influence on him, actually believe in him, lie to him was his breaking point. He might of even ended up telling him about his own father well after dinner was over. Athena slipping away to bed with tearful eyes. A kiss in the lips for Bobby, a kiss in the cheek for Buck as the two men kept talking. He had ended up spending the night at Bobby’s insistence, taking the guest room. Things had been different since then between the two. Yes, Bobby was still The Captain but if he treated Buck just a tiny bit different, gave him a bit more praise, nobody said anything. The fire fam had forgiven him. Christopher had forgiven him.

But not Eddie. And not himself.

So, of course Eddie wouldn’t tell him something like being in an illegal fight club as he threw down with strangers every night. It was when Buck got a phone call in the middle of the night from Carla. Christopher had spiked a fever and she couldn’t reach Eddie.

Buck had driven straight over, not taking any chances and with the help of Carla; saying fuck 911 drove him to the ER himself. Where he stayed with him, surprised to find out he was listed as a guardian in case of emergencies in Carla’s medical file on Christopher she keeps up to date. Maybe even intimidating a resident, ignoring flirting nurses and demanding a damn real doctor not some physician assistant.

Eddie had not been able to be reached all night.

Buck finally drove them home around 4a.m. after the doctor cleared him of any urgent medical conditions. It was just the simple flu. He didn’t care what it was. His boy was sick, that was urgent enough. Carla stayed in the car with a sleeping Christopher as Buck found a twenty-four hour pharmacy, waited then paid for the medication the doctor prescribed with instructions to call his pediatrician as soon as they opened if he got worse during the rest of the night. He had everything done to Christopher that night printed out on the spot to add to Carla’s records.

A frantic Eddie had stormed out of the house as soon as the headlights of Buck’s car entered the driveway. Ignoring Buck, Eddie picked up his son and walked into the house. In the rush to get to the Emergency Room Carla had forgotten her phone and hell would freeze over before he called Buck. They never spoke of it. Buck ended up calling Carla to see how Christopher was feeling and even stopping by after his shift to check in his boy. Maybe the oversized Teddy Bear he took him may have been too much but screw it, he owed the kid a teddy bear.

He owed the kid the world.

He even took him to Build-a-Bear as soon as he was cleared by his doctor to go out. Christopher just might have ended up making a bear dressed as a firefighter. Memories of him on the pier saying he wants to be a firefighter when he grows up went through Buck’s mind as Christopher proudly showed it to him. Knowing now what he should have known then, he would raise hell to get that kid on the LAFD, even as a Fire Marshall.

It was not being able to reach Eddie that made him curious, his gut telling him he needed to know. He may act on his emotions and impulsive at times but his gut instinct he always followed. So, on a night when Christopher was at his friend’s house for a sleep over Buck tailed Eddie home at a distance. Not like he didn’t know where the guy lived. He followed a bit closer as he came out of the house, got off the interstate onto some old dirt roads and came to a makeshift lot of disarray parked cars. Getting out he smelled the smoke before seeing the barrel fires lighting up the night sky. Old tires stacked up to make a circle. No, a ring. That had two men beating the living shit out each other in the middle of it. People crowded around, cheering them on as blood splattered onto the ground.

Then he heard the name Diaz being called. A shirtless Eddie stepping up to face another man. He was both disgusted and impressed with Eddie’s fighting capability.

He edged closer to the ring, making sure to stay hidden so Eddie couldn’t spot him, but he could get a better look at him. That’s when he saw it. Eddie’s eyes. The anger. The rage. The emotionless death in them.

Oh, Eddie. What are you doing and what have I done?

That was twenty-eight nights ago. He followed him every night, watching, praying to a God he wasn’t sure existed. His cell phone on in case of an emergency Carla might have with Christopher since his father was too busy being the idiot that only thought about himself he accused him of being in a grocery store forty-five days ago. According to Carla when asked it was around that time frame Eddie started paying her for extra night hours unless Christopher was at a sleep over. Which he was having more and more of.

Buck may not be on Eddie’s talking list but Eddie was on Buck’s watching over list. Every night, just to make sure nothing happened so Christopher wouldn’t lose a father along with a mother. Screw it. Who was he kidding? He felt the shame, the guilt. He wanted his team back so he fought for them but ended up losing a family he didn’t realize he had until it was too late.

Evan “The Ladies Man” Buckley is in love with Edmundo Diaz and it was staring him right in his blind as fuck face. Christopher right there tied with his daddy. He’d die for both of them and he went through hell every night watching Eddie taking his anger out with his fists. Wanting to but unable to run into that ring and yell stop this Eddie.

But the dead eyes as punch after punch kept him from doing so.

Arriving on scene of the accident, Bobby quickly gave out orders as they went to work. Eddie with the jaws of life and an I don’t need your help.

“Eddie, Buck’s on the jaws as you lift the car roof so Hen and Chimney can get to the little boy.”

It turned out the father ran a red light and the back where the little boy sat got slammed. As Hen and Chimney worked on the little boy Eddie went off on the father, Bobby and two rookie police officers holding him back as Athena put him in the back seat of her squad car. Unfortunately, the other driver didn’t see the car to stop in time, hitting them head on. They died on impact, the windshield slicing their throat as they flew through it, a teenage girl not wearing their seatbelt and texting.

Bobby telling Eddie to meet him in the office when they get back to the firehouse as they loaded the truck back up. Hen shaking her head at Bobby, signaling the boy didn’t make it. Eddie slamming his hand against the fire engine as they covered him with a sheet.

Buck could see the fire simmering in his eyes even though his face remained passive and blank on the ride back. Closing his eyes as he once again realized how much he missed Eddie’s smell. The smell of comfort, safety. Home.

As soon as they were back at the house, while the fire engine was backing into its spot, Eddie was opening the door and jumping out. As soon as the engine was cut Bobby followed calling after him.

Eddie kept ignoring him, pacing.

Taking a leap of faith and frankly tired of this shit, Buck walked up to him. Placing his hand on Eddie’s shoulder before the words are you okay could leave Buck’s mouth he found himself with a right hook square to the jaw. Fists flying at his face, chest, stomach as echoes of Bobby’s, Hen’s and Chimney’s shouts can be heard along with the sound of pounding footsteps and flesh.

Buck didn’t deflect one shot. All it took was one look into Eddie’s eyes. The emotionless dead eyes of the rage infected street fighter.

“It’s okay.” Buck kept saying as punches were landed. “It’s okay” as hands wrapped around his throat. “Eddie, It’s me, it’s okay” as he found himself flat on his back, slammed to the floor. “I’m me, it’s okay” Eddie straddling him after pushing Bobby off his back trying to get him off Buck.

“Eddie, it’s okay. It’s me. It’s Buck. It’s okay.”

He could hear Bobby yelling Eddie’s name.

“Eddie, it’s okay. It’s me. I love you. It’s okay.”

Suddenly, the punches stopped and a loud sob was heard. Buck picked his bloody body up from the floor, shaking his head no at Bobby and his team.

Kneeling in front of Eddie he caressed his cheek with the palm of his hand.

“It’s okay, baby. Let it out.” Bloody tears from the cuts on his face streamed down his own cheeks as he wrapped Eddie in his arms, lightly kissing his lips. “It’s okay. I’m here. I love you. I’m here. It’s okay.”

“No! You left me!” Eddie sobbed, burying his face into Bucks chest, wrapping his own arms around him.

“I’m here now.”

“Buck.”

“Not now Bobby.”

“We need to get you checked out and Eddie…”

“Eddie, needs help and you need to write me up.”

“Buck….” Bobby had his stern Captain voice starting. Hen and Chimney hung back, unsure of what to do.

“I fell disobeying a direct order from you.” Buck sat rocking Eddie, stroking his back. With a kiss to the top of his head he looked directly at Bobby, telling him he’d get the full story later with his eyes. “Eddie needs us and this time we’re doing it the right way, as a family.”

Nodding his head, Bobby gently placed his hand on Buck’s shoulder, squeezing it reassuringly before standing. “I’ll get a non-department trauma therapist on the phone. At least let Hen look at you, please. There’s a lot of blood and your head is still bleeding.” A sigh. “I thought it was you being impulsive in the field I had to worry about.” “Eddie needs looked at, too.” Taking a bloody hand in his, Buck brought it up to his lips kissing it.

“It’s okay. I love you. I’m here and I’m never leaving you again.”

Hen sat beside Buck, giving him a small smile as she gently patted at the cuts on his face. Placing a pressure bandage on his forehead.

Chimney sat quietly, glancing at Buck every now and then as he cleaned Eddie’s hands, his head rested against Buck’s chest.

Buck let out an accidental hiss and Eddie whimpered, burying his face back into Buck as Hen hit a particularly open wound.

The wounds were raw and deep but they would heal. It may be slow and take time.

But they would heal the right way.

This time Buck would make sure of it.

#make buddie happen #buddie #911 on fox #911fox #fox 911 #911 spoilers #9 1 1 #evan buckley #eddie diaz #eddie x buck #buck x eddie

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shitty-tf2-headcanons · 5 years ago

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Standard fluff question but mercs reacting to their lover telling them theyre gonna be parents?

Scout-

What?! You serious!? He’s gotta tell everybody!! Tell’s his ma, his 7 brothers, the entire team, Miss Pauling, the Administrator, Saxton Hale, Bidwell, Merasmus, etc. Everybody and their fish is gonna know you’re pregnant and expecting. Thanks Scout.

Promises to be the best damn father there ever was! But he doesn’t know how to be one. So how does he learn? Asks his ma! Seeing as she was the only consistent parent in his life, it only feels right to talk to her about child raising. She tells him everything she knows from raising him and his brothers, all on her own, of course. He hangs onto her every word. He even takes notes.

Having any pregnancy cravings? This boy is sprinting to the store and buying damn near everything in there! Feet hurt? Lay back and let the massage master work his magic! Want some cuddles? He’s already holding you. This boy has got you covered!

Soldier-

You mean to tell him there’s going to be a little solider running around here soon? That’s wonderful! He’s been wanting to train a new recruit! Announces to the team that there will be a new soldier joining their ranks with a big stupid grin on his face.

Already planning out how he’s gonna turn your kid into a skilled soldier. First, they must have a sensible haircut. Second, he must tell them the story and war strategy of Sun Tzu. Third, he shall introduce your kid to his heads outside. Fourth, he will blah blah blah blah...just be warned that Soldier will someday teach your kid the glory of fighting naked while covered in honey.

Wants to immediately start looking at baby names. You already know this man is gonna wanna name your kid something like America or Liberty. If you’re cool with those names, then go right ahead. But if no, then suggest a name you like and just say it’s patriotic or American. He’ll believes you. Still insists that your kids middle name be something like America.

Pyro-

Baby...they’re gonna be a parent? R-Really?? You just made them the happiest pyromaniac around! Will burst into tears under their mask and is going to tackle you into a hug. They’re so happy!! Not even pyrovision could make them feel this good! Everyone on the team can just feel the happiness radiating off of them.

They already know they’ll love their baby unconditionally but what if the baby is scared of them? They look like a monster in and out of the suit...so they decided to ditch the suit for a while and just wrap their entire body in bandages. Their lover tells them they look silly and they should just show the baby how they really look. From then, Pyro actually stops wearing his suit and mask when off the battlefield

Pyro wants to decorate the nursery with you. So that means painting Pyroland scenery on the walls and building a crib. Pyro also leaves all their stuffies in the nursery (even Balloonicorn) for their baby when they’re finally born.

Demo-

THE DEGROOT CLAN SHALL PREVAIL!!! THE NEXT GENERATION OF DEGROOT’S WILL BE EVEN STRONGER!! Ahem, yeah Demo is pretty happy when he learns the news. Before you know it, every member of the DeGroot clan knows about the pregnancy and is sending the both of you care packages. The care packages are mostly full of bombs and fireworks.

DeGroot clan tradition demands that the parents abandon their kid and only reclaim them when they learn their true bombing potential. Tradition also demands they lose both their eyes. Demo will understand if you are rightfully horrified by these traditions. He is too. So he just says to hell with tradition! He’s never gonna abandon his kid and make them go through what he did! And it’s their choice if they want to lose their eyes or not! He rather you and your kid be happy than make sure some dumb tradition is followed.

Doesn’t drink as much anymore when he learns you’re pregnant. He doesn’t want to give you’re pregnant self a harder time by being black out drunk all the time. He’s also doing it for the baby. He wants his kid to think of him as some fun bomb throwing dad, not a fun bomb throwing drunk dad.

Heavy-

You’re...having a baby? This...this is the best news he’s heard in a while! Is going to pull you into a bear hug and spin you around while laughing jovially, tears are beginning to prick into his eyes. Will carry you all the way to med bay just so he could tell his favorite doctor the good news. He’s carrying you to every team member and telling them the good news too. Not long after he’s gonna call his mom and sisters and tell them the good news. He’s all smiles for weeks after you tell him.

Becomes 10x more caring. Will have Medic check you daily to see if everything is okay. Will do tons of research on what you’re not supposed to do during pregnancy and will make sure you don’t do any of those things. This man will carry everywhere you need to go, can’t have you straining yourself now, can we? Makes sure you and the baby are as comfy as possible.

Along with becoming more caring, he also becomes a lot more protective. No one except Medic (even then Medic’s only allowed to get up close and personal when doing your check ups) is allowed anywhere near you. Heavy becomes something of a personal bodyguard. Will glare angrily at anyone who gets too close to you. Will also not hesitate to throw somebody across the room if they do manage to get close. Eventually everybody learns to stay out of your way. They also realize they shouldn’t do anything reckless or dangerous in front of you in fear of incurring Heavy’s wrath.

Engineer-

His honeybee is pregnant?! Yeehaw!! This calls for a celebration! This boy is gonna throw a whole ass party with the team and just cook an entire feast for everyone. Spends the entire time insisting that you eat enough for two and making sure you’re having a good time. Never fails to remind everyone that you’re pregnant, eventually Demo and Sniper make it into a drinking: every time the word “pregnant” comes out of Engie’s mouth, they take a shot.

Dad mode overload. Engie’s days are now spent just tending to you. He’s going to be cooking you your favorite breakfast and dinner everyday from then on. Full body massages are going to become a lot more common. Will fluff your pillows to their most fluffiest state and make sure your bed is as comfy as possible. Cleans up any mess you make with no hesitation. You’d think he would be tired from all this extra work but no. He’s just as energized and motivated as ever.

Just like Pyro, he wants to build a nursery with you. He’ll leave the painting and decorating to you while he starts building the crib and every other piece of furniture needed for a nursery. Will also not hesitate to build his own toys for your baby to play with when their born.

Medic-

You both kinda find out at the same time actually. He’s doing your monthly check up when he finds out you’re pregnant. Then he tells you and it just kinda spirals from there. He’s all smiles and cheers when you both tell the team but that all but disappears when the two of you are alone that night. He never imagined he would be a father...isn’t he too old anyway? Those thoughts quickly leave when he realizes how excited you are. Maybe having a baby with you, the love of his life, won’t be too bad after all. Plus the thought of having a little apprentice gets him all giddy.

Just like Heavy, you’re gonna have daily check ups from then on. As your doctor and lover, he has to make sure you and your child is at peak health. Will get snappy if you try to skip an appointment. Will also have a panic attack if he sees something even slightly wrong with you or the baby. Even his doves look a little stressed. So it kinda becomes the patient’s job to calm the doctor down.

Will have his doves on guard duty. Whenever he’s not around you, one of his doves (mostly Archimedes) will stick with you and keep a close eye on you. In the event that something does happen to you, his dove will report back to him and squawk at him. That’s Medics cue to drop everything and attend to you.

Sniper-

Not gonna lie, this man is gonna faint when you tell him. Believe him when he says he’s overjoyed, but he’s scared out of his mind. He’s not fit to be a dad!! He pisses in jars and throws it at people!! He shoots people for a living!! HE LIVES IN A VAN!!! What kind of normal dad does that?!? Snipes is gonna cling to you even more and ask for constant reassurances. He doesn’t want to screw this whole dad thing up...

Will ask Engie to help renovate his van so there’s more room for you and the baby, in the end it kind of resembles a trailer. Fully intends on traveling to places with you and the baby. Witnessing the world’s many wonders with the two of you will only make those moments that much sweeter.

Just like the other guys, he wants you to be as comfy as possible. So that means knitting a couple blankets and sweaters for you if you ever get cold. Will also do the same thing for the baby, he’ll even try to make little booties for them too!

Spy-

excuse me what the fuck??? Doesn’t faint like Sniper but gets very pale and sweaty. Oh god this can’t be happening again...once was already enough. Seriously plans on running away, he’s already trying to fake his death, when it dawns on him: Scout turned out to be disaster. He wasn’t there for Scout...so there’s a chance of your kid turning into a Scout 2.0...no...he won’t allow that to happen. Spy promises to stay and raise your kid right. He refuses to make the same mistake again.

You think he’ll allow you and your child to live on the base? Ha, don’t make him laugh! Being the extra bitch he is, he is going to buy you a whole ass house and it’s all yours. Fully decorated and everything of course. Being the shitty good expecting father like he is, he’ll spend a lot of his time there with you. It starts to feel like home after a while.

When you’re sleeping, he’ll just hold you and stroke your belly. He’s scared. He knows almost nothing about being a real father. It would be so easy to run away. But...he can’t. He loves you far too much to abandon you both now. Most nights are spent like this during the pregnancy.

Miss Pauling-

Aw crap, how is she gonna work and be pregnant at the same time? She’s always wanted kids but why did she have to get pregnant when she’s working a job that only allows her 1 day off a year. She’ll try to hide her pregnancy and keep working. But the Administrator knows everything and just tells her to go home for as long she needs. In return, she just asks that you take over for Pauling. Pauling will still insist on helping you with your new job.

Pauling is going to be feeling a little down now that she’s basically jobless and forced to try to relax for months. Just read gun catalogs to her and give her hot chocolate and she’ll feel a little better. Though being with you does improve her spirits greatly.

Is gonna wanna spruce up her apartment and bit and make some more room for the baby. So that means buying new furniture and painting the walls purple. With all the purple, you have a feeling your kid is gonna be conditioned to like the color. Just don’t mention this to Pauling cause she will chase you down and insist on painting you purple too.

#tf2 #team fortress 2 #tf2 headcanons #tf2 imagines #tf2 scout #tf2 solider #tf2 pyro #tf2 demoman #tf2 heavy #tf2 engineer #tf2 medic #tf2 sniper #tf2 spy #tf2 miss pauling #asks

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thetriggeredhappy · 6 years ago

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idk if you've done 31. speedingbullet before but oh man, that would be such a wholesome blessing ♡

missed the festival in town this year unfortunately bc travel reasons, time to live vicariously through these fictional 60s/70s gays again. (warnings for sappy, mentions of vomit in goof contexts, mentions of weed because im a creature, food)

31.) “Can I kiss you?”

One of these days, he’d figure out how to get Sniper out of his shell. He was sure of it.

He’d tried just about everything he could think of. He’d invited Sniper to the movies, to tag along to help with a shopping run, out to eat at three kinds of restaurants for lunch and two for dinner. Hell, he’d ended up roping Sniper into a double date, himself set up with a fiery-tempered girl who’d dumped a drink on his head and then written her number on his arm, Sniper with the tag-along friend who apparently needed to get out more. The date hadn’t gotten much of anywhere, the girl and him half-arguing the whole time and Sniper and the other girl staring at their plates and hardly even chiming in when invited. It had taken a bit of pestering to get Sniper to go out again after that.

He dragged Sniper to team meals, to bars, to clubs, to casinos. To a museum, to the farmer’s market, to a flea market. And each and every time he brought Sniper somewhere, the man ended up pacing along beside Scout, hands in his pockets, quietly chiding him when he got argumentative with civilians and quietly laughing at him when his bad luck had him making a fool of himself.

He just wouldn’t open up. Scout told him story after story, showed him all his own interests, presented every kind of joke he could think of, and the guy wouldn’t budge. Wouldn’t start telling his own jokes, wouldn’t start telling his own stories. Wouldn’t commentate on the things around them unless directly asked, and never once suggested where they should go next.

If Scout didn’t like a challenge so much, he would’ve ripped his own damn hair out.

The fair was his last resort. If he couldn’t get Sniper to open up somehow with the excitement and variety and overall greatness of an entire fair, then he was denouncing the man as a robot who did not feel things or have real emotions and turning him over to Engie for further study.

This was the middle day of the fair, meaning it was straight up bustling. Every stand had at least two people at it, and all the food booths had lines, and all the rides had even longer lines, and the number of teenagers stood around with each other was downright astronomical. This was a big fair, too, one of those harvest-type once-a-year nothing-else-ever-happens-in-this-state festivals that people would come from all over the place to go to. Engie had a lot to say on those kinds of things, and in fact had been the one to suggest Scout go check it out after hearing about it from some other old person when he was out doing some work-related supply run stuff.

Scout was most excited, as he often was, by the food.

The first thing they did once they got in the place was beeline to the first booth, some caramel corn thing, to get a small bag of it. Sniper commented lightly on his restraint. The second was to go to the next booth, which sold cotton candy. They got one cone to split between them. The third was to go to the next booth, which was one of those fair-specific food trucks. Sniper was starting to catch on.

“Aren’t these… well, the same sorts of food you can just find in a city somewhere?” Sniper asked, voice lowered so that only Scout could hear him.

Scout put on his best expression of complete shock and offense. “What! No, it’s totally different! The hell you talkin’ about? Fair food is awesome!”

“I mean… I’m not so sure, mate,” Sniper said carefully, glancing over the colorfully-painted sign.

“I—okay, hold on,” Scout instructed, and turned to pay as he was handed his latest portion of food, the Bucket ‘O Fries. “I mean, c’mon, check this out! It’s a bucket of french fries, what’s to dislike?”

Sniper looked at him blankly as they walked away from the food truck. Scout breathed in and began to elaborate.

“I mean, okay, the quality of the fries? Not great. I’ll admit, they’re fuckin’ shit, garbage oil sticks, and they’re also just straight up delicious. They’re the best trash. They’re the truck stop diner bacon of french fries. They’re tasty nightmares. I’m literally gonna like, sweat oil and salt after eating these, and it’s absolutely worth it. You can’t get this specific brand of perfect awfulness anywhere but at a fair. And, and? It’s in a bucket. That’s hilarious. Food in a bucket is awesome. Like, it’s maybe the closest a food place can get to calling its customers animals without making them eat from a trough, and I’m all about it. And you get to keep the bucket. Like, I just have a little plastic trash-lookin’ bucket now. What part of this isn’t objectively the greatest?”

Sniper considered the question. “Well, don’t imagine you’ll be able to eat all those,” he said after thinking about it for a moment. “So, not ideal.”

“Dude, don’t even worry about that. Best part of a carnival like this? They’ve got all this horrible garbage food, and like thirty feet away—“ He stopped in his tracks, and Sniper stopped as well, following his line of sight. “—They have spinny rides that’ll make you puke.”

Sniper was still. Scout watched him, waiting for a reaction. “Rides make you throw up?” he asked after a second.

“If I eat a whole fuckin’ bucket of french fries before I get on, then hell yeah they do,” Scout said cheerfully.

Sniper considered that, or maybe just stared at the ride and all of the screaming and hollering people aboard it.

“How many foods come in a bucket, y’think?” Sniper asked.

“Uh, you got fries,” Scout said, lifting his Bucket ‘O Fries to demonstrate his point. “You got fried chicken. I went to this place once with chicken tenders in a bucket with fries.”

“So just a combination of the first two,” Sniper said.

“Oh my god, what? Dude, no way, fried chicken and chicken tenders are wildly different, you kiddin’ me?” Scout gasped. “Barely the same food group!”

Sniper shifted his feet, still watching the ride. “How’re they different?”

“Don’t even get me started, man,” Scout warned.

“Do you even know the food groups?” Sniper asked next, voice flat in a way that Scout had learned meant Sniper was joking.

“Sniper, as a connoisseur of absolute garbage, you insult me,” Scout deadpanned back. “Let’s take some laps of the games and stuff before we go on the rides, I gotta have time to appreciate these fries before they’re being sent into a trash can.”

Sniper shrugged in agreement, following Scout as he started off towards some of the games.

Scout blew a good twenty dollars on the bottle ring toss game, pleased to hear Sniper chiming in every time he made a particularly bad throw. The next booth over had Scout making a repeat performance with the cane ring toss game, except he did manage to win himself exactly one prize, a sticky hand which only ended up directly in his pocket due to the look of immediate dismay on Sniper’s face when he saw Scout wielding it.

“Hey, if there’s one of those shooting games here, think you’d wanna play it? Show up some people?” Scout asked.

Sniper shook his head. “Mate, even out here in civvies,” he started, plucking at the shoulder of Scout’s civilian t-shirt and the chest of his own choice of clothing, a green-grey button-up, “I imagine an Australian washing out the place and a Boston bloke cheering him on would earn enough looks to get us recognized. Especially since you’ve still got the hat and I’ve the glasses.” He tapped first the bill of Scout’s hat, then the side of his own shades.

“Then we fake some accents,” Scout said cheerfully.

Sniper raised an eyebrow, which Scout had long learned was the closest thing to emoting that Sniper managed most of the time. “As if you know how to fake accents,” Sniper said, a note of disbelief showing through.

“What, you think I don’t?” Scout challenged, bumping elbows with him partially by accident as they needed to squeeze between two gaggles of people.

“Do one, then,” Sniper said simply.

Scout cleared his throat, raising his chin. “Oi, look ‘ere, mind tellin’ me where you might find a hotel ‘round ‘ere?” Scout said in an approximation of a lighthearted British accent.

Sniper stared at him. “The hell’d you learn to do that? That was damn well spot on,” Sniper said, both eyebrows raised now.

Scout kept grinning, ducking ahead for a second to squeeze between two intersecting lines of people. When Sniper caught back up he started explaining. “Me an’ one’a my brothers spent these two summers pullin’ this scam,” he started to explain. “We’d pretend to be tourists in town for tour group stuff, sneak into tour groups around the middle’a the day with these old busted cameras he got off people and fake accents so people thought we were from somewhere else, get into buffets for tour-specific stuff and eat for free and leave again,” he explained. “First summer we did it for like two months straight with different tours, second summer we only made it a month in before we had to cut it out.”

“Why?”

“His ex-girlfriend apparently got a job as a tour guide. That was, uh, the second time I ended up in custody that summer.”

“Hooligan,” Sniper murmured in a way that made Scout unsure if he was being made fun of, scolded, or congratulated.

They ended up at the ball toss at some point, which Scout did end up knocking out of the park a few times until the attendant told him to please move along already, reasoning that they already had a frankly ludicrous number of stuffed animals. Indeed, Sniper was carrying three large ones, and Scout had another one in the arm not carrying assorted food.

“I’m namin’ this guy Cotton Candy,” Scout said matter-of-factly, hefting the blue-pink-and-white rabbit up higher as it started to slip from his grip. “And I’m naming that guy Fry Bucket.”

“Which one?” Sniper asked, glancing between the three stuffed animals in his hand.

“That one,” Scout said, bumping a the yellow-and-purple-and-white-and-black slightly-suspicious-looking cat with his elbow. “Because the colors are bright like the bucket.”

“What about the other two?” Sniper asked.

“Eh, they’re yours, up to you.”

Sniper didn’t speak for a moment, just shifting the stuffed animals a bit. “You sure?”

“Yeah, I don’t got a use for four of these guys,” Scout shrugged. “Already I’m thinkin’ about whether Pyro’s gonna want Fry Bucket or Cotton Candy more.”

“What’s that second name about?” Sniper asked. “Is that a brand?”

“…What?”

“Cotton candy.” Sniper’s accent wrapped around the words strangely. “That a specific kind? The, er, blue-pink stuff?”

“…Of cotton candy?” Scout asked slowly.

“Yeah. It’s fairy floss, so is cotton candy then just a certain—“

“It’s fuckin’ what?” Scout asked, eyes lighting up.

Sniper paused for a few seconds. “…You people made up your own name for somethin’ again, haven’t you?” Sniper asked, sighing.

“Fairy floss? Okay, let’s talk about this. Let’s talk about that name.”

“No, we already did this with the bonnet and hood thing, and the… prawn and shrimp thing. So you people call it cotton candy. Noted. Moving on.”

“So like, the tiny winged girls, fuckin’—so goddamn Tinkerbell, she brushes her teeth, right? And she’s gotta be thorough. Ain’t gonna get no gum disease here in fuckin’ Neverland, no way, no adults here so no dentists so that’d go pretty bad. So she’s gotta floss, right? And she uses a goddamn cloud-lookin’ pillowy thing? It’s fairy floss?”

“I didn’t invent all of Australian slang,” Sniper interjected. “You can’t judge me for my country’s choice in naming things. I can’t help it.”

“It’s cotton candy, man! It’s cotton, like outta some kinda pillow, made with sugar. I don’t get why you would call it somethin’ else.”

“Apparently Ireland and those blokes up there split the difference, called it candy floss,” Sniper added in before Scout could get too carried away.

“It’s still not floss! Couldn’t pick a different one? Called it, what, fairy cotton?”

Sniper’s lip twitched up for a moment. “I’m nearly sure that’s some sort of code word for hooch, mate.”

“What the fuck is hooch? Are you speaking English? Am I in fuckin’ wonderland right now?” Scout asked, downright baffled.

“Hooch. Marijuana, cannabis. Mate, you said you grew up in the city, the hell you mean you don’t know what hooch is?”

“Who the fuck calls it hooch?! Man, I knew that Australia was weird, but seriously, it’s gotta be crazy down there,” Scout laughed.

They continued to wander the fairgrounds for awhile longer, and while Sniper was a bit more talkative than usual, Scout couldn’t be sure it wasn’t his imagination and his quietly trying to prompt Sniper into saying more. Eventually Scout could tell that the fairground was nearing closing time, crowd thinning alongside the various booths starting to close up shop and haul things away and lock stuff up for the night.

“I don’t think we’re gonna get around to that eating a ton of food and throwing up thing,” Scout said, a little bit put out.

“Sounds…” Sniper started to say, and stopped again quickly.

Scout waited. “What? What were you gonna say?”

Sniper hesitated. “I was going to say that it… sounds a bit juvenile, don’t you think?” he said slowly. “Not quite as fun as an adult.”

Scout considered that for a few seconds. “…Yeah. Maybe,” he conceded. “Haven’t done that since I was a teen. Might not be as great anymore.”

Sniper hummed. Scout kept talking, as he was used to.

“I mean, back then stuff was also pretty weird all the time,” he said, fidgeting with the handle on the fry bucket. “There was school, then practice, then I’d go home and have stuff with my brothers goin’ on all the time, some kinda shenanigans to pull. Now it’s just work, then I go do chores, then I’m all tired and don’t wanna do nothin’ except go to sleep, then I go to sleep and it’s the next day and I got work again. If I don’t got chores or whatever it’s fine, but man. When did I get all boring, y’know?”

“I don’t think you’re boring,” Sniper said quietly.

Scout looked at him, but couldn’t quite catch his expression the way he was holding the stuffed animals. “Huh? What’d you say?” he asked, fully aware but giving Sniper a chance to take that back or spin it into a joke the way just about everyone did.

“I don’t… I don’t think you’re boring,” Sniper said again, a bit louder now. “You’re interesting. You’ve got big opinions on just about everything, a million stories, a bunch of secret talents that only ever happen to come up at odd times. And you’ve got a lot of jokes. You’re…”

He trailed for a moment as they passed a small group of teens, chattering and laughing among themselves.

“You’re funny. You’re interesting,” Sniper said simply. “Not boring.”

Scout didn’t fight the smile that pulled at his face. “Well, look who’s gotten sweet all of a sudden,” he marveled aloud. Sniper readjusted the stuffed animals he was holding, bringing them closer to his face. “Well, speakin’ of sweet, want some more fairy floss before that place over there closes?”

Sniper nodded somewhere behind the layers of fluff and foam.

Their last stop was out towards the edge of the fairgrounds, the big ferris wheel they had set up. It was the tallest thing at the fair, no contest, and while it definitely wasn’t the biggest ferris wheel Scout had ever seen, or even been on, it was still surprisingly nice.

“Imagine that’s the sort that they need to break down to transport, rather than just keeping it on a trailer,” Sniper said almost offhandedly, following Scout’s line of sight.

“You know stuff about ferris wheels?” Scout asked, blinking.

Sniper shrugged. “Needed to for a job. Just the basics.”

“Huh. Cool.” Scout continued to look at the wheel. “Hey, I know sometimes they don’t shut those off at night, to like, promote the fair. Think they’ve still got an attendant working?”

“Probably not,” Sniper said, glancing around at the line of closed tents and booths around them.

“Wanna just hop on board?”

Sniper looked at him with a slight head tilt. “Why would we do that?”

Scout grinned. “Hey, we aren’t plannin’ on coming back here tomorrow, might as well make a grand exit and get kicked out,” he reasoned.

Sniper’s head tilted slightly further, almost disapproving. “We’d get arrested. The boss would be furious.”

“Assuming they call the cops and the cops get here before we’re gone. What’re they gonna do, be mad? Call our parents? Give us a stern lecture?” He elbowed Sniper. “Come on, let’s live a little!”

And then Scout was off, headed towards the wheel.

“I didn’t agree to this, technically,” Sniper said, hurrying to follow, voice slightly raised.

“But you’re gonna do it anyways!” Scout chimed.

Sniper did not argue that point.

The security was foolproof. A padlock and chain on a gate that was three feet high and had horizontal bars, as well as another lock on the control panel lever. Scout, known for his ability to jump vertically to well over his standing height, was quiet simply unequipped for such a challenge.

Sniper did have to hand over the stuffed animals before he could hop the gate, but soon Scout was placing Fry Bucket on lever duty and the other three nearby to stand guard, then he and Sniper were clambering into one of the cars and headed up.

It was going fairly slowly, to be fair. It took a solid minute for them to get only a bit above halfway up, and it spun them up backwards, meaning most of the view was obscured.

“Other wheels I went on usually spun the other way,” Scout commented lightly, kicking his feet up despite the slightly awkward angle. “Kept stopping to let people on and off, too. Way smaller, though.”

Sniper hummed. Silence fell.

Not long after they’d reached the apex and started heading back down again, Sniper sighed quietly. “I’m sorry if I got sharp with you,” he apologized, very serious. “I just… crowds aren’t much good to me. Too much noise, too much action. People too close. Gets me on edge.”

Scout was suddenly treated with the memory of just about every outing he’d gone so far as to take Sniper on, almost all of which involved crowds. “What?” he asked, taken aback. He pulled his feet down, sitting up. “Really? Dude, why didn’t you say nothin’? I’ve been takin’ you out to real bustlin’ places for like, two months!”

Sniper made a listless gesture. “Didn’t want to ruin your fun just because I’m a worrywart,” he replied, even quieter now. “And I doubt you’ve got many places you know that don’t involve whole masses of people. It’s your whole element.”

Scout couldn’t really argue with that. “Well, then I would’ve been letting you pick where we hang out,” he said stubbornly.

Sniper’s eyebrows drew together. “What? I thought you just wanted someone to bring with you when you went out,” Sniper said, clearly confused.

Scout blinked. “Dude, no. I’ve just been tryin’ to find a place you’d like to hang out in, see if I could get you to talk about anything. You’re always all quiet, I figured it was because you’re bored.”

“Of course not. Opposite, really. Gets overwhelming, I try my best to shut my mouth and pay attention.”

Scout needed a minute to loop his head around that. “Oh. Huh.” They reached the bottom of the wheel, but neither moved to get up, and they just continued on their steady path up again. “I… shit. Dude, I had no idea. I thought you were just hard to please.”

Sniper shook his head. “No. The places are always nice—this is nice—but I just…”

He trailed off. Scout waited for him to sort through his words.

“I just prefer… things like this,” he decided on. “Instead of noises and movement and close quarters and a hundred food smells.”

Scout’s mind went ahead and dealt with that one for a good minute. “Close quarters,” he repeated. “So this isn’t good either?”

“With other people, other folks,” Sniper clarified. “I’m fine with closed spaces.”

“Well, I’m other folks,” Scout said.

Sniper looked away, off to one side. “Not really,” he said, words almost lost to a breeze that decided to blow by just then. “You’re just Scout. I’m fine with you.”

Quiet again.

They made it to the top of the ride again, and Scout found himself relaxing a little bit. He tilted his head back.

“Can’t see the stars out here so good,” Scout said, looking up at the sky.

“Light pollution,” Sniper murmured in agreement, looking up as well. “I can hardly see any at all.”

“You’ve still got your shades on,” Scout half-laughed.

Sniper reached a hand up as if to push his glasses up his nose, and just kept his hand there on them for a few seconds.

“C’mon, not so many stars, by they’re still good ones,” Scout urged.

Sniper hesitated for a moment before he pulled the shades off, folding them, hanging them on his shirt. His gaze fell down below for a moment, then up to the sky. He had pretty eyes. There were some wrinkles around them, the kind of thing that meant Sniper either laughed a lot, or spent a lot of time in the sun, or a mixture of both. Scout realized he’d probably have his own pretty soon with his lifestyle. He found a lot of things funny.

Sniper briefly glanced at Scout out of the corner of his eye, then back away again.

“You’re staring,” Sniper said quietly, gaze falling to the tents and stands as they started on the inward down curve.

Scout looked away, also out at the area they’d just been in. Only a few places still had lights around them. The area was mostly dark, the tent blockings around them lit mainly by the gently changing lights on their ferris wheel. “You should take your shades off more,” Scout said.

Sniper shifted. “I use ‘em at work,” he replied. “They help me shoot.”

“You weren’t at work today, or any of the other times we went and did stuff,” Scout replied, tipping his head against the back of the seat, rolling his head to look at Sniper. Tiredness was creeping up on him, not in a cranky way, just in a lazy way.

“Why would I take ‘em off?” Sniper asked, not looking at him.

“So I can know where you’re lookin’,” Scout shrugged. “And because you look good, and they hide your face.”

Sniper’s eyes fell to his own knees, which he gripped in both hands. “Maybe that’s the point,” he said, voice rumbling against the lowest volume he could manage.

Scout kept looking at him, then back up at the sky as they made it to the upper half.

“Scout, I have a question,” Sniper said, eyes locked downward.

“Mm,” Scout hummed.

Sniper took a breath, exhaled. Looked over at Scout, made eye contact, maybe for the first time without the barrier of tinted, reflective lenses in the way. “Can I kiss you?”

Scout wasn’t sure what his expression was in the following several moments of silence, but it made Sniper tense, paling under the colorful lights, visibly sinking at roughly the same speed as the car they were in as they passed the apex.

“I’m sorry, I just—“ he started to stammer, backtracking as Scout did his best to mentally try and sort out the can of worms that was just opened. “I thought, we—ferris wheel, you sayin’ that I’m, I’m good looking, and—“

Scout saw the way he was fidgeting, fiddling, hands no longer able to be stuffed in his pockets to prevent it.

“—and you won those stuffed animals for me s’well, and you’ve been taking me to dinner, tryin’ to make me laugh, and—“

He couldn’t quite look at Scout, and maybe he could never quite look at Scout, and maybe that’s why he never took his sunglasses off. Maybe that’d why he kept his hat’s brim low. Maybe that’s why he held things up near his face.

“—and I just assumed, I, I’m sorry, I’m godawful at picking up the clues on that sort of thing, and maybe I just imagined things, I—“

“Do you wanna?”

Sniper’s rambling stammered to a halt. He didn’t look at Scout. “What?”

“Hey. Look at me.” It took a minute, but he did, tipping his head up first, eyes following a second later. Crow’s feet. “Do you wanna kiss me?”

Sniper managed the tiniest of nods.

“Out loud,” Scout added, voice level.

Sniper took a breath. “Yeah. Yeah, I’d like to,” he said.

Scout tilted his head up for a second. They were headed back up and over again. Stars.

“Yeah,” Scout decided. “You can, if you want.”

Sniper had to take a second to process that. But then, slowly, he placed his hand on Scout’s shoulder. He second-guessed himself, hand moving instead to rest on Scout’s cheek, tilting his face only on accident, and then Sniper was kissing him.

It felt nice. Scout reached up slowly so as to keep from scaring Sniper away, an arm wrapping up around his shoulders.

By the time they pulled away, they were at the bottom of the wheel again. Sniper managed to smile at him, so visibly relieved and contented that it almost left Scout reeling, the sudden input of reaction making his head spin.

“You taste like fries,” Sniper informed him quietly.

Scout laughed.

#sniperscout #speeding bullet #my fanfiction #shut up me #my writing #tf2 #team fortress 2 #im sleeby this probably has errors but shrug

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arcaneranger · 6 years ago

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Final Thoughts - 2018 Long Shows

It’s finally here! I’m so close to being done with 2018 (...mostly. We’ll get to it) that I can taste it, but in the meantime, this list is gonna be weird, because there will be things that were already on other lists since I revised my rules of what should be classified how. This post is specifically for any show that ended in 2018 and lasted longer than 13-ish episodes (including shows that aired a second season during the same year or within six months of finishing the previous one), which means that there’s about as much on it as a usual season of shows, but they all had more time to impress - or disappoint me. I’m doing a better job in recent seasons of getting to everything, but last year there were unfortunately things that I missed (I was burned out in the winter) and just have to leave aside for now because I can’t wait any longer for these lists.

Anyway! As usual, let’s start with what I skipped!

* The Seven Deadly Sins: Revival of the Commandments, The Disastrous Life of Saiki Kusuo S2, Cardcaptor Sakura Clear Card, Garo: Vanishing Line, and Mr Tonegawa: Middle Management Blues because I haven’t seen their previous seasons or parent works. (Yes, even Cardcaptor Sakura. Y’all can shoot me later.)

* Hakyuu Hoshin Engi, Beatless, and Basilisk: The Ouka Ninja Scrolls because by the time I was rounding things up, I hadn’t heard a single positive thing about any of them.

Next comes what I dropped -

WORST OF THE YEAR: Steins;Gate 0 (4/10)

What a fucking mess this show was. Aside from a very noticeable downgrade in production talent from its predecessor, the plot meanders and flirts with maybe actually happening this time before just dropping out again, over and over, to the point where I was perfectly willing to drop it two episodes from the finish line because it was such an insult to fans of the original. (Also, continued disgusting mistreatment of the transgender character.)

Gundam Build Divers (4/10)

Taking the Build series from being a well-written kids show to an averagely-written kids show that hides itself in decent mech designs.

Katana Maidens (4/10)

I remember so little about this show, and granted that I did drop it after one episode almost nine months ago, but what I did remember was that it gave me strong KanColle vibes with laughably inconsistent animation and flat characters. Meh.

Darling in the FRANXX (5/10)

This should probably be lower on the list, but I got out of Darling while the getting was good, sixteen episodes in. I understand that future episodes of the show cemented it as crappy right-wing nonsense in addition to pushing worldbuilding out of its fortieth-story window, but the moment it lost me was much sooner, when the crazy yandere female lead was reduced, almost instantly, to Good Anime Waifu as a reward to the protagonist for going against his friends with his selfish motives.

Persona 5 the Animation (5/10)

In addition to not actually finishing in 2018, Persona 5 just did not give me a single reason to watch it when I’d already finished the source game, with middling-to-bad visuals (thanks to the switch from Production I.G. to A-1 Pictures, and not even the team that created the much better-looking Day Breakers OVA before the game was released in the U.S.) and phoned-in music, which is especially unacceptable in a Persona adaptation. Also, we all absolutely called that the studio couldn’t tell the story of the entire game in just 26 episodes.

Record of Grancrest War (6/10)

There’s people that like this one a lot, but I didn’t see much that interested me in the first two episodes. I’ve heard better things about the manga.

Golden Kamuy (6/10)

I had problems with the first half of Golden Kamuy that the second half simply didn’t fix, and it became difficult for me to keep watching - the show still interrupted almost every fight scene with a dick joke, but still wanted to maintain a serious and occasionally frightening tone - and those things simply don’t go together. It needed to either spend more time being funny, or keep its lowest-common-denominator humor out of the fights.

Next, I have two shows that are (potentially permanently) On Hold, simply because it’s time for me to move on and I don’t have the time or energy to marathon them when the Winter shows are starting to wrap up:

Kakuriyo: Bed & Breakfast for Spirits, because even though I initially dropped it, I’ve heard a lot of good things since and I want to eventually give it another shot.

Yowamushi Pedal Glory Line, because despite the fact that I still enjoyed the previous season, this one started right in the middle of my burnout and I only heard bad things about it. I’ll get to it eventually, but it’s a shame that this series has been on a clear trend downwards since its revival.

And finally, the stuff I finished!

The Ancient Magus’ Bride (6/10)

Keep in mind that this is here entirely on the merits of its aesthetic and its side characters - in the end, Ancient Magus’ Bride is a Beauty and the Beast story where the beast gets what he wants without learning to be less of a dick or even apologizing for his clearly wrong actions.

Major 2nd (7/10)

Always pleased to have even just Good sports shows around, and this one is a very effective reboot of a classic series that’s never made its way stateside (man, the underperformance of Big Windup! really did a lot of damage to this genre in the West). With good character development and a decent second-generation premise, Major 2nd has the potential to be the beginning of a solid baseball story, assuming that it gets a needed followup.

IDOLiSH7 (7/10)

I dropped IDOLiSH7 when it first aired, and though I wound up enjoying it after I was very strongly urged to revisit it, the problems it started with never quite left it behind - that is, it has an okay cast of characters but doesn’t present even passable performance sequences, and if you’re going to include big song-and-dance numbers, they have to be good, or you may as well just be UtaPri.

ClassicaLoid Season 2 (8/10)

In 2017, I gave the first season of ClassicaLoid a near-perfect 9/10, and while this season gives us a satisfying conclusion to the story, it does things both a little better than the first, and also not quite as great. It’s story is much more well-integrated over the runtime so it doesn’t happen all at once in a few chunks, and the jokes that work are still absolute genius, but there’s simply too much that doesn’t quite land correctly, and a little too much immature humor, for it to reach the same lofty Hall of Fame heights as the first season. Still, one of the most underrated shows I’ve ever seen.

My Hero Academia Season 3 (8/10)

God, Izuku in that onesie is too damn cute.

My problems with Hero Academia are frustratingly persistent - the show is at its best when the students are competing with other students, because outside of last season’s Stain (a villain whose motivation is specifically related to the world of MHA), the villains are just not at all compelling and they all seem a little too generic for their own good. I just want Horikoshi to be a little bit less predictable of an author and do a little less reading of the Standard Shounen Playbook. Luckily, when it works, it works magnificently.

March Comes in Like a Lion S2 (8/10)

March remains director/auteur Akiyuki Shinbo’s most accessible work, and one of his masterpieces, as a well-paced and marvelously moody story of a depressed shogi prodigy learning to be a normal teenager before his youth completely passes him by, and the fantastic characters that surround him with their own complex problems and motivations. I just really, really hope it gets a third season eventually, because this one did not leave off on a satisfying conclusion.

Speaking of which...

Food Wars! Shokugeki no Soma S3 (9/10)

It’s almost a shame that My Hero Academia became hugely popular purely based on its accessibility to American audiences, because Food Wars pretty squarely deserves to be the reigning Shonen Jump king - each season has only improved on the previous one, and this one was based entirely on a continuing arc that could only have happened in the universe of this show, Fighting Food Fascism. That being said, it also leaves off right in the middle of the arc (because it had almost caught up to the manga), meaning that we have to hope that it can remain relevant long enough for there to be enough source material for another season. I’ll be crossing my fingers until they snap.

Banana Fish (9/10)

Yes, this has risen a point since my review, but Banana Fish still deserves to be thought of as both a complete masterwork of crime fiction, being fantastically paced and expertly plotted in the use of its many, many twists, and a work that disappointed the side of me that hoped that, in adapting it into the modern day, MAPPA could have managed to get the author to let them depict what is clearly a queer relationship with the authenticity and legitimacy that it deserved. It’s still amazing, though, and Amazon should be pushing it with their most lavishly-made originals. At least it was the last noitaminA show they’ll get to totally bury.

And, finally, the one you all saw coming.

BEST OF THE YEAR: Lupin the 3rd Part V (10/10)

Lupin is, quite simply, one of the pinnacles of the medium. A simple idea that can (and did) go in thousands of different directions, handled by highly creative writers and an animation staff that has been knocking it out of the park for years, despite the fact that it is criminally (heh) unrecognized in the West. To put it simply, there’s a very, very good reason that it’s been around since the 70′s.

Okay! All I have left to do is finish Dragon Pilot (waiting on a friend) and we can get the last two lists out of the way! We’re almost done...

#multi 2018 #arcaneanime #year end anime list #final thoughts #lupin the third #my hero academia #banana fish #food wars #the ancient magus bride #March Comes in Like a Lion #idolish7 #major 2nd

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