#i just barely have more engie hours than scout hours

[lucifer-the-fetus-eater]

tf2 mercenaries based on how much i like them

i don't actually hate any of them there are just some i like more than... others.

[rinayeas]

puking out some mercs drawing hcs bc i have nowhere to put them mwak

Best artist to worst real quick: scout, medic, demo, spy, engie, sniper, pyro, heavy, and solly

Scout is self explanatory, he's loved drawing since he was very young and his love for comic books only served as fuel. Is the only one with a well developed, intentional style. That style obviously being 2004 cartoon network, sans the fact they live in the 70s

medic had to learn lots about drawing anatomy to make diagrams while he was in med school so he has an uncannily realistic style and is very good at portaits (skeleton portraits are also a specialty of his). He hasn't bothered to experiment with this skill surprisingly, he likes drawing things as he sees them

Demo and engie make their own schematics for their work so they got that down but engie doesn't have an artistic bone in his body sans playing guitar, he can draw a sentry and all its parts perfectly but still draws stick figures. Demo has dabbled in drawing and doodling on the corner of his schematics so he has a bit more range (more than he gives himself credit for)

Spy is crazy good at painting, his use of color is incredible and can capture light and moods perfectly. But he is absolutely fucking terrible at actually drawing things. His anatomy is all fucked up and he is REALLY bad at perspective. Insists that it's his artistic vision but on the inside he is fuming.

One time Scout gave him the idea to 'collab' and he begrudgingly accepted. But the end result of one of Scout's cartoons combined with his coloring made him a bit more emotional than he wanted to admit.

Sniper can only draw animals. He doesn't see the point in drawing but one time on a trip he saw a really cute dog and he hadn't bought a camera yet nor could he take it back home so he just drew it and showed it to his mom as soon as he got back. He got better over the years but doesn't know how to draw anything else

Pyro draws like a kid but they put the most passion and love to her drawings so they look particularly cute and colorful. He and scout have drawing sessions in the mess hall where whoever is in there w them chooses the theme and each of them draws their version, they surprisingly learn a lot from eachother.

Heavy is a man of words. Mostly because he loves them but also bc he finds drawing absurdly hard. Resorts to drawing stick figures all the time but he's very competent at making his point while using the bare minimum

Solly's drawing are just a mess of scribbles with the ocassional color, nobody knows if he's an abstract genius or just a terrible artist. Exclusively uses the american flag colors. One time Spy jokingly asked him why was he using the french flag colors and after choking the shit out of him Soldier stared at the wall for a good two hours in contemplation.

[uwuowotf2waslife]

and enjoy the fic , please im a slut for feedback <3

tw: alcohol cosumption, people being dicks , all platonic like bros do

Notes: English isn’t my first language; this one-shot is based on this tumblr post

Blood, guts & glory can splash on your eyes and hide the reality of living the mercenary lifestyle of Teufort.

Actually, it’s pretty damn monotonous. It’s like an office job, except you actually get to let your frustrations out in a much more healthy way than binge drinking at weekends. Sure it gets messy and quite life threatening, but Medic is always in the run to make sure your bones do in fact stay in their skeleton. It does have a fair share of paperwork, but nowadays what job doesn’t have paperwork...

This particular holiday season, by some grace of unknown ancient god, the Administrator decided that there should be an extended ceasefire, to boost morale and make sure people don’t start demand raises (they already are paid like millionaires, but Spy would like a raise for psychological damages).  Some gossips around the town claim that the Administrator got wooed by a certain Australian business & power man for a very romantic date of hunting and grilling Yetis on the barbie, but it also happened that the gossipers were found buried in shallow graves the next day, so we will never know.

Now before you ask, Christmas is the one of the guaranteed holidays the company actually provides, and quite frankly most of them barely get out of the base during the holidays.

Some exceptions are of course Heavy who will go by rafting to his mom and sisters even for 10 minutes, maybe Engie that in all fairness is pretty close to Bee Cave so he just  gets in his semi and hauls his ass a pretty chill 5 hour drive. Maybe Pyro who may or may not go to some Christmas Raves with their loops in cause rave girlies have some of the best plush game you’ll ever see. Demo prefers to get wasted and call his mom for their beloved sloshed phone call. Sniper makes sure he is very shaved, sober and pumped up before doing a zoom call with his Ma and Pa ( I refuse to accept they died, I can’t see him sad.) Soldier quite frankly is a fire hazard and he is banned from most bars and their Christmas party hour special event, he mostly chills at the Medbay with Medic who is all giggly on Gluhwein. Scout is a big boy and can handle being alone but mostly stays up all night doom scrolling pinterest ( secret Tom Jones stan account) and Spy beside being a major asshole, actually volunteers as Santa ( he can have a mean southern twang if he really wants to).

All was going great until Scout suggested they threw a New Years Eve party, after all they are all stuck in Snowycoast and somehow the power isn’t down yet.

 I mean, they usually just chill around just do a small group chant and go the fuck to sleep, but they never actually celebrated it. Pyro are already out by 9 pm, because dancing and vibing without enhancing substances is a workout worse than a triathlon preparation and in the first years Heavy suffered really bad jet lag.

 For the others New Years Eve stopped being a rager once they hit 30 and unrelenting alcohol consumption and bar crawling. All is peaches and cream, until you wake up in the middle of the dessert so unholy high on peyote without your undies or car keys, or so Sniper claims (his parents will never let it down, the sight of their adult professional unaliver son on stolen tidy whiteys is an image carved like fiery red metal on a fresh chuck of meat). 

But they can wing it; what’s more challenging? Bank heists or making mid Hawaiian punch? 8/9 mercs say the second.

A game plan was easy to be made, they are military men at heart (mainly soldier) and order is second nature to them (they did it to mainly shut up soldier). Heavy and Medic were responsible for the cooking, chicken tendies and mac’nd cheese is great but a hardy Russian stew or some extra spicy german wurst makes the game start rolling better. Spy decided he will be the decorator and Demo the florist…yes he is the barman, much creativity here. Scout and Pyro are just dicking around and pretty much everyone else pretty much acted like a goth tween being forced to go to their family gathering while wearing a bright pink Santa beanie. Except Soldier who is already ranting and raving victorious plans on how this specifically party will be worthy of the president while munching on chalk. Engie is the one tidying up the conference room and making sure the generators are ready for Showtime if the snow cuts them off from civilization.

After some bickering, especially because the wine & whiskey Demo has in his hand-made bar aren’t the cream of the crop, I know shocker, the food is fresh, ready and warm and the punch is fully loaded and ready to be ladled to thirsty sad men & nonbinary DDR destroyers.

By some stroke of luck Spy is feeling extra pezzazy and has sat his royal ass on the piano and softly plays totally classy, elegant music (he is playing wonderwall, he is the fuckboy after all). This night is really looking up. Being the macho manly men they are, Heavy and Soldier decided to play some poker, with beans of course as chips, because it’s silly to take friendly games as a competition.  The spirits got a bit heavy (pun needed here) soon though. Soldier might have the IQ of a feral cat, but he has one hell of a poker face, Heavy is a close second on that ,but he becomes livid fast after gulping down some liters worth of punch. Sooner or later you could hear loud swears in more European languages than expected, while Solly is grinning like a madman with a bed worth of cash in his side. Before even 10 pm our favorite soviet heavy weapons specialist was quintessentially skinned. He is so closed on betting his clothes and earthly possessions but Soldier will laugh at him until the day the sky turns into glue and plop down on unsuspecting souls.

Sniper joined for bit with them, but he is a sore loser when it comes to poker so he took his beans (his cash was gone faster than a deadbeat pressing the get out of state pedal while going out for some milk,) and left the room mumbling swearwords so foul, Engie started blushing. You could find him later, all saltier than a canned tuna in saltwater clutching his trusty RGB keyboard and mouse while blasting the most annoying Christmas songs known in humanities history. He got banned and kicked so many times he had to use a different account, but this is proper New Years Eve to him, finally being the public nuisance he creams to be. Scout at some point came in to pester him; after all there are extremely second hand quality movies on the TV and vomit inducing cheesy segments to watch sober.

Until he got a glimpse of a jar with a certain kid’s toy inside and the scooter-man decided he doesn’t need to fill his mind with whatever filth Sniper is doing. So he did set up camp in the rec room and softly bawled his eyes while clearly soul-empty news broadcaster showed off kitties setting up parties and babies doing barrel rolls.

At some point Pyro entered the room and coaxed scout off the normie entertainment industry for some good old DDR. Although Scout is and will always be a top tier gymnast and marathon runner, Pyro is the one who knows how to dance the Rasputin as hypnotic as the animations. All was going grand until 10.30pm when a very soft but audible ‘pop’ sound broke the instrumental music trance and Pyro saw painful white stars. Medic was called and he openly cackled while he zooped them up with the Medic Gun. With Pyro still sore, they just sat down, munched on some stew and second grade questionably made Gluhwein. Medic being the sentimental gilf of the base actually enjoyed the bland TV program , whilst Scout trying to nurse his crystal fragile ego he made guy noises when something particularly cringe happened.

 Solly was left to his own devices enough that he had a panic attack and as the one man army he is, he made a stable hideout in the corner of the rec room while muttering how Santa is a code word , Christmas is a ritualistic when souls and ghosts come to life and are out on the prowl , how he failed as a soldier and his dad was right for calling him his biggest mistake. Thankfully, Engie heard the commotion and successfully sweettalked his way into Sollys secret military bunker ( three chairs on each side and a desk on top with pillows for sound proofing, and  even more successfully comforted Solly enough to stop eating chalk and drink some water.

 Demo (you bet he was wasted, you are wrong) actually had some quiet time skyping his mom and actually enjoyed hearing about how his cousins had like a bunch of kids, or how the very little ones completed their fist life achievements ( speaking, walking, detonate enough stuff to be in the terrorist registry).  He even cried when mom sent his new nieces baby pictures, she looked so cute! All wrapped up like a garlic sauce kebob fresh out of the kebob mans magic hands.

Spy who we all thought he was still moonlighting as pianist, actually drank some and some more punch and got absolutely bogged. He started having zoomies , running all animalistic up and down the base until the gods of alcohol had enough. Soon he was found vomiting inside a potted plan and was promptly locked up and tied up tight on the rails in the disabled bathroom , Scout wanted to take pictures but he actually fell pretty bad for Spy and even brought him some water and took off his balaclava (with his eyes shut, boy scouts honor). He wanted to ask Engie where the baby monitor was, ( yes they bought a baby monitor for the bread monster baby), but the countdown started and hhe completely forgot about.

Everyone who was not completely cazooted , joined Pyro & Medic while they started the countdown. Heavy was sulking but happily lifted them all up when the clock hit midnight, even throwing the scout high enough to smack his head on the ceiling. At the end of all, no matter red or blue, support or defense, they all share the same joy of living the Gravel War life surrounded with men & man-things that make their life a rainbow’s worth of color and happiness.

Even Medic got moved by the comradery and actually went off to help Spy before he vomited a kidneys worth of humanities worst and best invention.

Happy New Year simps

[coolfireguy73]

Monster/Cryptid TF2 story Pt.5

(Read this for context)

Day broke once again over the almost deserted town. An idea she had during the night pushed Miss Pauling to venture outside as the sun barely illuminated the dark streets of the town. She was taking a big risk, and she knew it, but what she was about to do was even more so.

With a small bag in her hand and a gun in the other she paced the streets in silence, hoping to find the mercenary she had met the day before. She had taken good note of what Engi had told her and, contrary to what he thought, she thought she could coax him. It's also why she left without saying anything. However, she would like to find him quickly, this city was not that big, he had to be somewhere...

A few hours later, only 2 to be exact, Engi finally came out of his room, he had thought about the discussions he had with Miss Pauling the day prior and, although he was still against it, he was ready to try to find a compromise with her. Turning to face what he thought was going to be Miss Pauling on the couch, he stopped short.

Seeing his reaction Miss Pauling tried to explain herself: - "Don't worry, he won't attack us, I made sure of it." She said, putting herself between Engi and Scout who was eating a sandwich on the sofa. His eyes wide open, he was watching the other two talk, ready to react if necessary. -"Why did you bring him here ?" - "He agreed to let me take a sample of his blood if I gave him something to eat." -"But why here?! This hideout is compromised." - "Where did you want me to take him? The others would attack us." Engi sighed: -"Alright..." He turned his gaze to Scout still there watching them, he had finished his sandwich. -"More. A-and water." He said, then paused. He looked hungry, "Please..." - "Can you get him a glass of water ?" Miss Pauling asked. She took the opportunity to search the room for anything that could contain a blood sample.

Engi returned to Scout with a glass of water and some bread. The hungry boy almost snatched it from his hands and swallowed it all up like an animal afraid of having its food stolen if it doesn't eat it whole. This gave Engi plenty of time to observe Scout more closely, usually he would runs from house to house avoiding him and the others, it was the first time he could see him up close.

As he suspected, he was sad just to look at, like the others, however he was the only one of few to visibly suffer from his condition.

Miss Puling came back to them with a small glass bottle and a knife, she sat next to Scout: -"Give me your hand" He was reluctant. "Trust me" she added. Hesitantly he held out his hand to her. She held it and used the knife to make a small cut on one of his fingers and scooped a few drops into the bottle. -"And There you go." She smiled at him, to show that he had been right to trust her, then went to put the bottle away. Engie got up and followed her. -"What now?" She stopped and thought about it for a second, she asked: -"Scout was the last to be contaminated ?" -"Before last." -"Hm... And the first two were ?" -"Medic and sniper...Where are you going with this ?" - "If they have indeed been infected by something, it would be easier to detect in the first contaminated." He was afraid to know what idea she had in mind: -"I'm going to stop you right there, it was dangerous enough to bring Scout here but there's no way we're trying the same thing with Medic or Sniper." - "Wait, listen Engi, we have one of them to help us now... and I have a plan."

(Sorry It took so long, as I said I was working on the story and the origin of this... infection thing. Thats and some personal stuff made work kinda slow and also I was working on another project so... yeah.

It's shorter than the rest of the parts I believe but I hope you'll like it anyway. I'm sorry again for any typo etc... It's great to have my motivation back at 4 am :') )

[crabonfire]

prompt: u miss them and physical affection is your strong suit. ensue the adorable touches :)

characters: scout, engineer, and heavy.

warnings: none really, purely fluff :)

note: oh and btw u n merc r already dating in this cause no doy + some r shorter than others n m very very sorry :(!! my brain goes blank sometimes + italics mean they r thinking hehe ♡

OH AND EXTRA NOTE English is NOT my first language and this is my first time writing in months. So excuse me if anything is a bit stiff. Oh and my first time writing on tumblr so bare w me xx 🚶

♡Scout♡ (movies sound nice!)

You had missed him all day, and you wanted to see him. So, you walked to his room with the door already opened and saw him cleaning his bat on his bed. He seemed to be too busy trying to wipe the blood off that he didn't notice you. "God fuckin'...stupid blood." He grunted as he pressed his thumb and moved them over the stains with a wet bleached cloth.

You didn't bother to say anything, you walked over to him and leaned into him, arms slowly wrapping around his neck as you placed your head on top of his. He lowered his arms and completely stopped what he was doing. "...Y/N? What's up babe?" His voice was low, keeping his cool. You couldn't tell thankfully for him, but his face started to redden at your sudden action.

"I miss you. I barely saw you today." You replied, voice slightly muffled by his cap. Boom. That was the trigger. He was nervous now, more than ever. 'God. Your so fuckin' cute Y/N.' He smiled wearily, "Sorry toots. Today was rough. But I'm here now ain't I?" You smiled, "Mmm yea. Can we watch a movie?" "Sure. Gimme a sec, alright?"

He got up and placed his bat back into his drawer, as he walked outside to compose himself, face now fully red. You never do realise how you make him feel. "Goddammit Y/N." When he finally composed himself, he went to make a bowl of popcorn for the both of you, as he turned on a nice movie for you both to enjoy.

♡Engineer♡ (little spoon engie. Ps. won best cutie award every year and yes he is my fav ;])

Engie was just tweaking his invention, he promised you he'd be asleep in an hour, but it had been three hours and you had awoken from your sleep. "Mm...what the.." You noticed a distinct lack of engineer on the bed. You sighed as you got up, walking to his work room.

You opened the door with a creak, alerting him at once. "Engie." He turned around in his chair to face you. "OH! Sugar...I didn't know you were awake." He said, his voice smooth as silk. It made your heart skip a beat, but you had no time to be melting over this man's gorgeous delicacy of a voice. You walked over to him, sitting on his lap as you wrapped your arms around him.

He was certainly surprised, feeling his cheeks slightly heat up. "...Honey?" Your head lied on his shoulder. "You said you'd be asleep in an hour, and yet I wake up to nobody with me in bed." You huffed, tightening your hold around him. He smiled, and arm wrapping around your waist as the other rubbed circles on your back. "Ah. 'M sorry darlin'. I guess...I just got caught up in my work."

"It's okay...but can you sleep now? I miss you. I wanna cuddle." You asked. He chuckled, "Of course sugar." He moved his arms to your thighs, carrying you as you moved your head to face him. You kissed him, as he did too. Your soft lips were like heaven to him, as he walked you both back to your room. He lied you onto the bed, taking off his helmet and goggles and placed them by your bedside table.

He didn't bother to change, and you sure didn't care. You only wanted to have his sweet embrace accompany you for the night. As you quickly get yourself comfortable he places his head onto your chest, feeling your arm wrap around his shoulder.

He was in pure awe, you were so sweet even in bed. It stole his heart. He nuzzled himself into you as you kissed his forehead, making his heart flutter. " 'night Dell. I love you." You whispered. "I love you too, sugar."

♡Heavy♡ (bear. no context. bear. headcannon that he reads lmao. also give this man some more love PLEASE the lack of heavy x reader makes me sad tbh)

Heavy was in his room, he had just finished cleaning Sasha. He was reading a simple book after a day of hard work. You had missed him SO MUCH. You knew he was never really a touchy feely person, so you don't have much romantic intimacy with him if he's in a mission.

When you heard the mission was done, you ran straight to his room. "HEAVY." You exclaimed, making him jolt. He put his book down to look at you, "Ah, Myshka. Hello." He smiled softly. You grinned and jumped on him, surprising the fuck outta him.

"bozhe moi dorogaya! What has gotten into you?" You simply chuckled, lying your head on his chest as your arms wrapped around him. "I've miss you sooo much Mikhail." You sighed, head nuzzled deeper into him. His face flushed tomato red as he placed a hand on your head, petting you. "Ah...I see. I have...missed you too. Greatly. I apologise for not being with you for long."

He placed his other arm on your back, continuing the light pats. "Mmm. it's okay. I know you got tons of work. But...can we just, cuddle for now?" He smiled, his eyes full of endearment as they don't dare to leave your adorable figure. "Of course, moya lyubov."

You two spent the rest of the night cuddling, as you fell asleep in his warmth. He did too, now arms wrapped around you, like a big Teddy bear providing warmth from a lovers embrace.

ehehheheeheh heavy my beloved :)

I hope u guys enjoyed this!!! I may do a part 2 w other boys if u r interested i this prompt :)

oh ps. heavys nicknames mean

myshka: little mouse

dorogaya: dear / darling

moya lyubov: my love

I am not Russian, so I apologise sincerely if anything I've said is off!!!

[n00dl3gal]

Expiration Date (Father-Son Bonding AU Version)

More of the dad!Spy AU because I’m hooked, y’all. Thanks again to @thetriggeredhappy for spearheading the AU and letting me bounce ideas off of them.

As the name suggests, this is the AU version of the Expiration Date short. I recycle some of the dialogue, too. Basically everything is the same except I guess the final wishes bucket didn’t happen? Warnings for references to canon-typical violence and talks about death.

Reblogs are appreciated!

Spy flipped to the next page of the Spy Tech catalogue. His whiskey sat to the side- a rare indulgence. Typically, he stuck to his roots and drank wine. But with less than a hundred hours left… might as well live a little. 

There was a knock at the door, and Spy sighed. “Go away,” he yelled. Silence. Then the faint but unmistakable sound of a lockpick. In an instant, Spy stood, pulling out his knife. He opened the door to grab the intruder before- “Scout, there are easier ways to get my attention.” 

Scout smirked. “Gotta keep my skills sharp,” he replied, slipping the lockpick into his pocket. He sauntered in, arms behind his head. Spy shut the door.

Jeremy’s arms fell to his side as Raphael took off his mask. “So. Three days. You scared, old man?” Jeremy asked. His voice was light, but his face was contorted with concern. 

Raphael thought. “No, not scared,” he said finally. “Nor am I particularly surprised. I figured tumors would get me in the end, if not in this way.” 

Jeremy snorted. “Told ya you smoke too much.” 

The mirth was short-lived, however. “How about you?” Raphael offered. “Are you afraid, mon lapin?” 

“Nah, not really. But… I dunno, I have some regrets? Stuff I wish I could’ve done.” He scratched at his cheek. “Ask Miss Pauling out properly, finish fixing up that bike with Engie…'' His voice trailed off as his eyes widened. “Um. I-I would’ve liked to meet my Ma.” 

Raphael swore the tumors took him then, the way his heart froze. Every paternal instinct he had fired at once as Jeremy started to tremble. Jeremy took in a shaky breath. It wasn’t enough. The tears began as he croaked out “papa.” 

Raphael quickly pulled his son into a hug, removing his cap to smooth his hair. Jeremy sobbed into his chest. Raphael felt his own eyes water. “I was wrong. My death does not scare me, but yours, Jeremy… that would terrify any father.” 

“C’mon… at least we’re goin’ down together,” Jeremy joked, still crying. 

They couldn’t get off base without a proper ceasefire. Engineer was occupied with testing the teleporters with Medic. But three days was enough to make at least one of his son’s wishes a reality. “And before we do,” Raphael said, “we will be winning Miss Pauling over. Even if it’s just for one date. What do you say?” 

“Dad, you don’t-” 

“Let an old man fulfill his dying wish, s'il te plaît?” Raphael interrupted. Jeremy sighed, but he was smiling. “Then let’s get to work.” 

. . .

Scout blinked as Spy flicked on the light. This damn seat was too small- where the hell did he find a school desk like this, anyway? Scout shook his head, trying to focus on Spy’s dialogue. “Final question. You have a dinner date for seven. What time do you arrive?”

“Seven,” Scout answered automatically. “AM. Case the restaurant, run background checks on the staff. Can the cook be trusted? If not, I have to kill him. Dispose of the body, replace him with my own guy no later than 4:30.” He smiled. 

Spy grimaced. “Jeremy, that’s what you do when having a meeting with a known rival. I’m very glad you remembered, but that is absolutely not what you do in this scenario.” He glanced down at his death watch. “And we’re out of time.” 

Scout groaned, banging his head on the desk. “Then I have no hope, do I?”

“Hmm… the area you set up is fairly nice, but it’s all a matter of getting Miss Pauling here,” Spy said. “If you can figure that out, you might have a shot.” 

It was quiet as both men fell into thought. “Wait- holy crap, that’s it! Thanks Dad!” Scout yanked himself from the desk- not without some effort- and ran out of the training room. 45 seconds later, the briefcase alarm went off. 

Spy pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled. He had raised his boy better than this. And yet… well, the security booth would at least let him keep an eye on things. 

. . .

“I was furious. Oh my God, you set off the briefcase alarm and you were having a prom for some reason. But then there was this monster and we shot it and we built a bomb and I think my leg's broken,” Miss Pauling said in a rush, gingerly pushing herself off of Scout. “Can we do this again?”

“Yeah! Yeah- wait,” Scout replied before pausing. “We can’t. I’m going to be dead.” 

“Wait, what?”

Light poured over them as Soldier lifted the bread monster’s corpse. “Good news! We’re not dying! We are going to live forever!” 

“I didn’t say that!” Medic yelled in the distance. Heavy held the monster up as Soldier and Sniper helped Scout and Miss Pauling stand. “I just said we’re not filled with tumors!” 

“Oh thank God,” Scout sighed, grinning. “So yeah, Miss Pauling, I guess it’s a date.” 

Miss Pauling had been smiling, but her expression suddenly fell. “Wait, you mean- oh, oh Scout, I’m flattered, but… you’re not really my type,” she said quietly. 

Scout felt like a bucket of cold water had been dumped down his pants. “Uh, wh- what is your type, then?” he asked awkwardly. 

Miss Pauling looked away, straightening her glasses. “More… feminine,” she replied. Her voice was barely audible. 

It took Scout a moment to fully process it. “Oh. Oh! Well that- I mean, that sucks for me I guess, but- um, well, if ya ever need a wingman or something-” 

She blinked, frowning at him. “Scout, are you- are you saying you’re not straight either?”

“Eh, labels, not really- I’m flexible,” he said dismissively. He shrugged, bouncing on his heels. “But yeah! Next time ya head to the Gravel Pit or something, lemme know, alright?”

“I would love to, but today’s my one day off this year. Maybe I can squeeze something in… oh, it looks like I’ll be seeing you on Wednesday,” she said. 

“Really?” “Yeah, that’s the day I have to feed the guy who pressed the briefcase alarm to my woodchipper.” 

. . .

As soon as it was obvious Scout and Miss Pauling were not dead, Spy walked away. The base had sustained heavy damage during the fight with the bread monster. Enough that a ceasefire was most likely inevitable. It would be tight, but Spy prided himself on working on a deadline. 

Jeremy’s regret about Miss Pauling might not have come to fruition, and there wasn’t much he could do about Engineer being preoccupied…

But there was one of his son’s dying wishes he could still fulfill.

Sequel? Sequel. Also fun fact: this fic totaled 1,111 words exactly.

[kellanved-ammanas]

Something with your favorite ship?

Thank you for the request! (From this request event.) Choosing a singular fav ship for this fandom is hard 'cause I love Pyro/Medic, Pyro/Merasmus, and Scout/Sniper and which one I like more depends on what kind of mood I'm in. But I figured since it's been the longest since I've done anything for Scout/Sniper I'd do something with them.

Stranded

The car was busted, well and truly. Scout had picked up a little engineering knowledge from hanging out with Engie over the years but not enough to fix this or even know exactly what the problem was. Maybe he should’ve paid more attention, asked more questions, or made a point to remember better. Too late now though.

The worst part was that he hadn’t even hit anything. The car had just decided to give up on life all on its own. Leaving him stranded in the middle of the Australian desert; a horrible place to be.

Slamming the car’s hood down, he stepped back and looked around at the desert surrounding him. He was a long way from anywhere and it was hot, ugh! He walked back around to the still open front door and leaned in to try turning the key a few more times. … Nope, it wasn’t starting up.

With a resigned sigh, he leaned a bit further in to grab his backpack off the passenger side seat and hoisted it up onto his back. Looks like he was walking. The question was though should he head back to town to get a new car and/or call someone – probably Sniper even though this visit was supposed to be a surprise – or should he continue on towards Sniper’s family farm? Which one was even closest at this point? And why did Sniper have to live in the middle of nowhere to begin with? He was even more insane than Scout had thought, living a multi-hour long drive from even just a small town.

He slammed the car door shut and gave its front tire a hearty kick that actually hurt a little before turning and… freezing. A busted blue pickup truck was driving down the road towards him. It was going back towards town so looks like Scout was heading back that way too for now, assuming it stopped to pick him up anyway. But surely all the way out here any halfway decent person would take pity on him and give him a ride. So he stepped forward, raising his thumb in the air.

The truck obligingly slowed to a stop in front of him. Lowering his thumb, he took a breath to say something as the driver side window rolled down but again froze instead.

“Scout? That really you?” Sniper asked, confirming that it really was him and not just someone who looked a lot like him and wore the same sunglasses and hat combo he did.

“Uh… yup. It’s me.” In hindsight this wasn’t that surprising, Scout had come out here to visit him after all so of course running into him was a possibility, he lived near here.

“What are you doing all the way out here?”

“I was coming up to visit you. It was supposed to be a surprise so uh… surprise.”

Sniper opened his mouth to reply but Scout barreled on, pretending not to have noticed just in case Sniper was mad at him for this and didn’t actually want to see him. Even if they had been good friends and hung out often their relationship had primarily been because they worked together and that whole thing had ended like a year ago and they’d barely talked since. “Boy am I glad you just happened to come along though. My car broke down. I guess that’s my fault for buying a cheap one, huh?” He hadn’t known if he was going to be welcome to stick around for long so he hadn’t wanted to spend much. “Can I uh… hop in?”

“Oh, uh, yeah, of course. I can tow your car too if you want. I was just heading to town anyway. We could stop by the mechanic to get it looked at.”

“Sounds like a plan. Thanks.” He’d gladly take care of that first and then figure out how welcome he was here. And then if that turned out how he hoped then… well who knows where things could or might go from there. It’s not like Scout exactly had a plan on how to court Sniper, he was just winging it ‘cause that’s the only way he knew how.

[kritzkrieg-kiss]

Hi! I see you're new. I'll start with a small question. What are the Merc's and Mrs. Pauling's favorite drink?

Yay my first ask! I hope you like it!

Mercs' Favorite Drinks

☕☕☕

Scout: Lemonade, the kind from powder. It brings back memories of summer evenings playing capture the flag with neighborhood boys, building no-girls-allowed forts, and drawing stories with sidewalk chalk. The sun would start to set, the balmy evenings would begin to get that crisp, clean air about them, and Scout's Ma would walk out the door with a pitcher of cheap lemonade. She couldn't afford much as a single mom of 8 boys, but every once in a while she would come across something small and use it to make her boys' life (and scorching hot summer days) a little nicer.

Soldier: Horchata. Living in New Mexico means plenty of culture being shared in the desert. The whole team was lucky enough to have authentic mexican food one night and Solly practically drank it all. Though his patriotic pride will never let him admit it out loud, he's always secretly giddy whenever he gets the chance to drink it again.

Pyro: Ovaltine. Pyro's a picky eater and hates taking pills so he's gotta get his vitamins somewhere. Engie suggested it during breakfast one morning and he's been hooked ever since.

Demo: scrumpy Black coffee. When Demo was young, back before he learned how to hold his alcohol, he would get really sick when he drank too much. On particularly bad mornings when he was real hungover, his mother would brew hot coffee to try and nurse him back to health. It was at times like these when her overbearing harshness on him would fade and a more caring side would be shown, though neither one would verbally acknowledge it.

Heavy: Hot chocolate. Growing up in revolution-era Russia, and eventually the gulag, meant food and drink were nothing more than a bare necessity to survival that one was lucky to get. When he came to America, he was stunned by the sheer amount of everything there was simply for pure enjoyment. Most notably, the idea that people not only drank milk for pleasure, but that they would have spare CHOCOLATE to just??? Put in hot milk??? Needless to say, it very quickly became a favorite of his. It reminded him how he worked so hard to send money home to his mother and sisters so they might have nice things like that. You bet the first chance he got he mailed some cocoa their way.

Engie: Chamomile tea. The man has 11 PhDs, and that means a lot of nights were spent writing papers and cramming for finals. He had a ritual that after any sort of big project or test, he would lock himself in his dorm, sit down to a cup of hot chamomile tea, and push the rest of the world out of mind for the night. Now anytime he drinks it, his mindset is instantly brought back into that feeling of relief and calm. It's really quite helpful after hard days at work.

Medic: Red wine. Medic is constantly operating at a hundred miles per hour, working on projects, new discoveries, experiments, and most importantly, being the only thing that stands between his team and a violent, bloody death. The man has natural passion and spirit, but he's well aware of his limits. He knows that if he doesn't force himself to rest, he won't actually do it until he overworks himself to the point of getting sick. So when late nights begin to slip into the wee hours of the morning, he pours himself a glass of red wine and forces himself to take a breath and get some sleep. It allows him to actually stop and reflect on all the hard work he has done before moving on to the next project.

Sniper: Water. Clean, fresh, spring water. Having lived in the Australian outback his whole life only to end up moving to another desert, he has never really lived around a real fresh water source. Sure he's totally used to water tasting like blood, but being able to drink it without feeling like he's basically just forcing it down is such a nice feeling. Sometimes, though rarely, he would come across freshwater rivers when he would hunt game in the outback. He would drink as much as he could, fill every container he had on hand, heck he'd even bathe in it for good measure. Often he would camp out near the bank for a day or two. Now it always reminds him of quiet days under the hot sun turning into cool, starry nights.

Spy: Hot milk. He thinks it's childish but that's why he secretly loves it. It reminds him of a time when he was young and living in the french countryside. He used to be scared of nightmares, and his parents would heat some milk on the stove and gently sing whenever they would come. Of course being a man of his stature and elegance, he would be caught dead before he was seen with a cup of hot milk of all things. But on those few and far between nights, when his demons creep in on him and he wakes up short of breath with a racing heart, there soon may or may not be some milk missing from the communal fridge.

Welp that's all I got, hope you enjoyed it 💛

[hankwritten]

By the Roots

Scout & Soldier, 2k

Part of the DontNeedADiscord Pride Week, Day 2: Family

Of all the people, all the people on the damn planet, it really shouldn’t have been Soldier that figured it.

“You there! I saw that, pipsqueak!” he demanded not two days after the team was first assembled, storming at me across the training yard like I’d already done something wrong. “Regulation warm-up is fifty pushups, not ten and then exclaiming very loudly ‘FIFTY’ as you do that last one! Do not think because you are a woman I will go easy on you. In fact! I will be riding your ass twice as hard so you will be encouraged to measure up to your clearly more dedicated male counterparts!”

There were a lot of things I could object to in that, a lot of things I was planning to object to, but one thing in particular surprised me so much it practically hit me upside the head. “Whoa, hey dude! I ain’t a chick!”

Soldier lifted his helmet with a thumb and peered down at me. “You are not?”

“No a’course I’m not!” I said, flabbergasted. “Would a chick have sick muscles like this? Or like this?” I should off each of my amazing and impressive biceps in turn, a little shocked that he wasn’t falling over in awe due to their sheer awesomeness. “I am peak dude, pally. Why would you even think that?”

“Your small stature, your chicken legs, your feminine jaw, your general weakness, the unending gab from your motor mouth-” Soldier ticked them off on his fingers.

I swatted down his hands. “Dude, jeez, I get it.”

He considered me again. “…You are sure you are not a very petite yet tomboyish girl?”

“Uh, yeah pally,” I scoffed. “I think I’d know.”

Twenty-two months later, my hard earned ponytail fitting snugly through my hat, I wondered if Soldier knew, somehow. That was stupid obviously—Soldier was completely bonkers even by the team’s standards, and if every weirdly nonsensical thing he’d ever said was true then I’d also be a spy from ten different countries and partially made of ranch dressing. But. I guess some small part of me liked the idea that it was apparent to someone. That there was some hard truth out there, and somehow Soldier was in tune with the weird songs of the universe enough to prophesize me even before I’d divined myself.

I was pretty far from the team’s campfire, the rush of the last hour still coursing through my system. It’d gone as well as I could have hoped, with everyone kind of knowing or at least suspecting by this point anyway, but I’d still been nice to get it all out in the open. A little family meeting of sorts. I smiled, watching them laugh and carry on with their drinking.

“Is something the matter, Scout?”

Spy’s voice startled me, but I totally didn’t jump or nothing, just turned my head as the creepy bastard slinked out of the dark.

“Nah,” I told him. “Was just a lot of adrenaline doing all that. Needed a moment to cool off. Not like I’m nervous or nothin’! Could’a talked about shit all day if those knuckleheads didn’t get it through their bozo craniums, but it’s just like after a run you take a breather to make sure you don’t get heat stroke or something-”

Spy held up a hand. “I understand. No need to elaborate.”

“Great. Cool. Just so you know that I’m not freakin’ out.”

He took a spot next to me, the rocks cool where the desert night came on fast and hit hard. We stayed like that for a while, him smoking, me staring with my chin in my arms.

“You come out here to say you’re surprised or something?” I asked, after the moon had ticked a little lower.

He blew a strand of smoke. “It wasn’t my primary goal, no.” He paused. “Though I was, to be sure.”

“Hah! Yeah you were! You should’ve seen your face.” I grinned, kicking a rock. “I can’t believe you were the last person to find out.”

“…I certainly couldn’t have been the last person to-” Spy stopped when he saw the shit-eating grin I was giving him. “Hm. Fine, I suppose I will take this as a loss to my professional pride.”

��Heh. Nice,” I snorted. “So if that isn’t what you wanted to talk about, what was?”

He hesitated a moment. “Scout if I have ever said something, to you or merely in passing that was…greatly insensitive, then I am sorry. I cannot hide the fact that this is not something I have experience with, and if my past ignorance has ever caused you distress then I apologize fully.”

I blinked. Was he serious? “Eh, don’t worry ‘bout it.”

“Ah, so I have made some faux pas. Again I’m sorry-”

“No,” I interrupted him. “I mean seriously, don’t worry about it. ‘Cause I don’t.”

Spy looked genuinely confused, already the second time that night when I’d barely seen him make that face in two years of working together. “Pardon?”

“I don’t really care about what you say,” I shrugged. “When it comes to things that bother me, crap my Ma’s shitty boyfriend says about how I look barely makes the list. After however many years of the way you’ve treated me, I’ve just kinda tuned you out.” I shrugged again. “How it is.”

“…Ah.”

I kinda missed when he was surprised, since that was at least easy to read. Now I didn’t know what to make of the mix of emotions crossing Spy’s face, only that I was sorta bored of the conversation.

“If that’s all you wanted to talk about, I’m heading back to the fire,” I said, smacking my legs as I stood. “Cold out here.”

I left Spy, not checking to see if he was still doing that thing with his face.

I honestly was planning on heading over to the fire, but I saw Soldier sitting on the bed of Engie’s truck, not doing anything but staring into space as he sipped his beer. It wasn’t even conscious really, I just suddenly found my feet moving in his direction, abandoning warmth for the lunatic with the bazooka. The weird things we do on instinct sometimes.

“Yo, Major General,” I greeted. “Feel like the smartest guy in the room yet?”

“I have never claimed to be!” Soldier said. “I settle for being the most tactically sound.”

“I meant about me, dumbass,” I rolled my eyes, then hopped on the bed next to him. I scooped up a beer while I was at it.

“You?” He might have been blinking at me under the helmet.

“One of the first times we ever met, you asked me if I was a chick.”

Soldier rubbed his chin, trying to recall. “…You said you weren’t.”

“Well I didn’t know at the time, dumbass.” I cracked my beer. “But now we all know, so congrats to you, pally.” I toasted in his general direction and drank.

“…How is it?”

“The beer or the chick thing?”

“Being a girl.”

“It’s alright,” I admitted, playing it cool. “The ponytail’s great though. Look! I can do this now.” I bobbled my head, showing that my hat stayed on no matter how hard I shook it. I kept bobbling until I almost fell off the truck, Soldier steadying me at the last moment.

“Careful, missy. You’re going to need to cut that soon if you don’t want it smacking you in the middle of battle,” Soldier pointed out. “That or braid it.”

My hand clamped defensively over the back of my head. “Nah, no way man.” Hearing how whiny that sounded, I tried to pass off my sudden movement as a stretch. “It’s fine. Plus I don’t even know how to braid.”

“…I could do it for you.”

Of all the batshit things Soldier had said to me over the years, this took the cake. “You? Know how to braid?”

I wanted to ask if he was pulling my leg right now, but his expression was just as dead serious as ever. He pointed downward and made a circular motion.

Hesitantly, I turned around, and felt him lift off my cap. The ponytail threaded out of it, and he tugged at the elastic until my hair fell free around my shoulders. I’d seen myself with it down in the mirror every morning before pulling it up, but it still felt odd to have it hanging free here in the same place we killed BLUs and got our guts blasted full of lead. Soldiers fingers carded through the loose strands, dividing them into chunks, but despite that it wasn’t nearly as weird as I thought it would be. It was actually…nice almost.

He wasn’t gentle—this was still Soldier after all—but the tugging at my roots was more pull than yank, a careful suggestion to go one way or the other. Nudging me towards something.

“How’d you learn to do this, anyway?” I asked.

“Used to do my sister’s,” he said gruffly. “Little sisters can’t do anything by themselves. They always try to follow you around, and then they get in trouble or fall in a creek or something.”

His fingers brushed against my neck every now and again. “As a professional little sister, that sounds about right.”

“You are not a professional little sister. You are a professional Scout. What sister-ing you do, you do on your own time missy.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

Soldier slipped the elastic around the braid’s end. I swung it around a few times, trying to see if Soldier had messed it up somehow, but only managed to almost fall off the truck bed again. Maybe that beer was really hitting me.

“…Thanks Solly,” I said, gently touching the braid’s end.

“Any time, private. If you need me to teach you, I will happily train you in the art of braids,” he declared. “And knot tying! But only if you meet my standards on the braid portion of the exam.”

I grinned at him. I’d done a lot of weeding, taking out the people and things I didn’t want in my life, but it was nice to know there were things I wouldn’t have to get rid of entirely. “Sure Soldier. I’ll think about it.”

[tf2-hellhole]

Grim af but I kinda like angst- okay so the either rsepawner stoped working and the mercs had to watch their s/o die or they some how got into the crossfire and died

Bless your soul homie, I love writing fluff but I’ve been itching to write some angst-

I imagined that the S/O was exploring the battleground but didn’t know that a match was about to start. They’re killed about a third of the way into the match but their merc finds their body near the end

Warning: Death, emotional trauma, alcoholism, etc

Scout:

At first, another teammate told him his S/O was on the battlefield but doesn’t know they’re dead yet. He spends several minutes running around trying to find them. He doesn’t try to attack any enemies or cap the objective and is sent through respawn several times.

But after a little while, he finds them. He doesn’t realize they’re dead and tries to bring them a health pack, believing they’ve only passed out. It’s only when he grabs their wrist that he realizes there’s no pulse.

When it hits him, he just freezes. He just stares down at them and tears form in his eyes. He stays there with their body until another BLU comes along and takes the free kill. He spends the rest of the match in the back of the spawn room crying quietly and shaking violently. No one even notices him there until the end of the match.

When the rest of the team finds out, Spy and Sniper (who is heavily implied to be Scout’s good friend) sit with him while their body is retrieved. He doesn’t say a word the whole time.

But the moment he gets back to his room, he has an absolute meltdown. It lasts a very long time and he breaks a lot of his stuff. The other mercs can hear him and all feel horrible. Spy has to leave because he doesn’t want the others to see that he’s on the verge of tears for his son.

Heavy has to come in and stop Scout before he accidentally hurts himself. As soon as he’s in his arms, he stops thrashing and just sobs. He stays in a depressive state for several weeks after this.

He’s a lot quieter afterward. He eventually gets his cocky personality back several years later, but he’s nowhere near as loud or confident as before. He never truly recovers and doesn’t try dating again for a long time.

Soldier:

Soldier, like Scout, doesn’t realize his S/O is dead and tries to shake them awake. But the moment he realizes his S/O is dead, he flies into a violent rage.

He thoughtlessly attacks the BLU team. He doesn’t consider the objective and just attacks the BLUs. He’s so reckless that he just dies several times and barely gets any kills. His team loses the match because of him.

After the match, Soldier brings their body to the med bay himself. He demands Medic make them come back. When Medic tells him there’s nothing he can do (this is before he had the funding to learn to revive someone) he attacks him, saying that he’s lying. The others have to subdue him before he kills someone while respawn is off

After he’s calmed, he spends several weeks just replaying the moment he realized they were dead in his mind. How could this happen? He was supposed to protect them! He was supposed to protect them and he failed… He never gets over that thought.

He pays for most of his S/O’s funeral to make sure it’s beautiful, because they deserve it

Over several years he eventually heals and turns back into the normal Soldier, but for the rest of his life he always carries a photo of his S/O everywhere and dedicates every match RED wins to them.

Pyro:

Pyro’s entire world quickly turns grey and dark when they find the body of their S/O. They drag their S/O’s body to a safe place and hold them to their body, just sobbing quietly into their mask. But after a few moments, they’re filled with fury and go on a rampage similar to Soldier’s. They charge directly into enemy fire, only caring about taking revenge for his S/O. But unlike Soldier, theirs is slightly more calculated and results in RED winning a match they almost lost.

After the battle, Pyro won’t leave the body alone. They pick up their S/O and carry them back to the base bridal style, shaking and sobbing the whole time. They take the body to the med bay and just sit there crying into their arms. They’re there for several hours and would’ve sat there for days is Engie didn’t lead them away

For a couple of weeks, Pyro refuses to participate in combat, leading to many additional losses for the RED team. All they do is sit around and don’t have the motivation to do anything for a while, though they eventually return to work after the other mercenaries encourage them to.

For a very long time, Pyro’s world is lifeless and dull and nothing can fix it. They just feel horrible and live in despair for a long while. They spend most of their days sitting outside or in their room in the base, completely silent. Over a few years they heal, but their world turns grey and sad much more often than before. Some days they feel really guilty about not being there to protect their S/O, and they feel so horrible about it that even flames can’t lighten their mood.

Demo:

Demo is in absolute shock upon finding their body, but his first instinct is to pick up their S/O and run to Medic, desperately begging for him to do something. When the medigun doesn’t do anything, Medic and Demo instantly know that it means they’re gone, and Demo goes completely silent.

Demo carries his S/O to a safe spot for the rest of the match to just hold them against him and ask them to please, please wake up. His life was hell before he met them, what is he gonna do without them? They can’t leave him, not now, it’s not fair! They had so much ahead of them!

His mental state goes downhill after this. His S/O had practically kept him sane; They encouraged him to cut back on drinking, comforted him after his mother would insult him over the phone, and complimented him after every RED win. He spirals back into a state of thinking about all of his regrets and insecurities and drowning them in alcohol, then repeating the process in the morning.

He falls into a severe depression and just falls apart. The only things he has the motivation to do are go to the kitchen to grab all the alcohol he can find, take it back to his room, drink it all, and spend the rest of the day sleeping. He eventually has to be moved to the med bay to be cared for by Medic due to his refusal to eat. He’s in this state for a very long time and it’ll be months before his team sees him on the battlefield again.

Demo never really recovers. He starts to eat again after a while and becomes depressed less often over time. But he will often drink a lot more when his S/O is on his mind and never seeks another partner. Sometimes alcohol can’t make the image of them in his head go away and he just sits in silence, tears running down his face, trying to clear the image from his mind. It hurts him so much.

Heavy:

When another teammate tells him his S/O is on the battlefield, he absolutely panics. He can’t let anything happen to them. He immediately turns to Medic and tells him to pocket him and help him find his S/O. They spend a little while running around and trying to find them, and after a few minutes find the enemy Soldier standing over their body.

Heavy immediately revs up his gun and mows down every enemy in sight to get them away from his S/O, starting with the Soldier. Once he’s done he drops his gun and rushes to their side with Medic, desperately hoping they’re still breathing. You can practically hear his heart shatter when he realizes they aren’t.

You’d expect him to get angry and use the rest of the match to get his revenge, but not yet. He runs back to base with his S/O in his arms and spends the rest of the match holding their body and whispering to them in Russian. He refuses to let them go for several hours after the match.

The next match is when he gets his revenge on the BLU Soldier. He gets the other mercs to help him kidnap the Soldier, and tortures him for a while before sending him back to respawn.

Heavy is allowed to leave work for a little while and goes to his family for a few months. He isn’t depressed while he’s with them, he helps them around the house, but he spends a lot more time alone and reads for hours and hours to get the image of his S/O’s body out of his head. It isn’t until a few weeks after his S/O is killed that he breaks down in his bedroom. He doesn’t scream or sob, he just sits at his desk with his head in his hands with tears running down his face for hours.

Engineer:

When Engineer was told that his S/O was on the battlefield, he went pale. He was terrified because he knows he’s not the best fighter and he can’t run out there and get them. He just has to stay focused on supporting his team and hope Scout or Soldier finds them.

It isn’t until RED had already won the match that one of his teammates brings the body to him. He lets out a pained cry and runs over to take his S/O into his arms. He asks in a shaky voice who killed them, but none of the mercs know.

Engineer just throws himself into his work for months. He gets up in the morning and goes to his workshop, only leaving for things like showering and eating, though he does these things rarely, and goes to sleep at around 2 AM. He’s extremely quiet now and rarely interacts with the other mercenaries, usually only speaking to them when he has to. He doesn’t work for the first couple of battles after his S/O’s death but after a few weeks he joins his coworkers. He does his job as efficiently as before but he rarely speaks and is still very, very distant. He’s even distant to the merc closest to him, Pyro.

Over a long while, probably a few years, he heals. He gets back his extroverted and kind personality but he’s a little quieter than before. He won’t ever seek another partner.

He makes sure to visit his S/O’s grave regularly and tell them how he’s been doing. He always makes sure to leave them fresh flowers, and he makes sure their grave is kept pristine even after he’s gone.

Medic:

Medic is pocketing Heavy and is about to pop Uber when Heavy yells, “Doctor, look!”. He turns to see where his friend is looking and lets out a surprised cry when he sees his S/O’s body. He immediately abandons Heavy and runs to them.

He drops down in front of them and immediately checks their pulse. For a moment after he realizes there is no pulse, all he can do is squeeze his eyes shut and bow his head over their body. But he quickly grabs his minigun and runs back to Heavy. He pockets him and growls at him to push forward, since his Uber is ready. They go in and he gets his revenge as all of BLU is mowed down in seconds. He’s not satisfied but he can’t do much else

Like Scout, he has a complete meltdown in his lab after the match. He destroys tons of equipment and attempts to destroy his medigun. In his mind, if it couldn’t save his liebling, then what point does it have? But luckily, the other mercs stop him before he damages it too much.

Once he’s calmed, he focuses every waking moment on trying to bring his S/O back. This is before the comics, and at this point he does not have enough funding to invent a way to revive them. He spends months trying to work out a way to bring them back.

During this time, he is very aggressive towards his teammates. He doesn’t attack them, but he yells for them to get out the moment they enter the lab. The only person allowed in his Heavy, but even he can’t be in there for more than ten minutes before Medic is growling at him to leave too. The team actually has to hire a real doctor to look after the mercs while he’s in this state. He still participates in battles though, he just doesn’t take care of their general health.

Sniper:

Sniper is the only one to actually watch his S/O fall. He was forced to watch through his scope as the enemy Spy put a bullet in their head before he could get a clear shot. The moment he’s killed the Spy, he’s running from his nest to his S/O

He scoops up the body before more BLUs show up and drag them back. He wants to bring them a health pack or yell for Medic, but he knows they wouldn’t be able to do anything. For a while, he just sits there holding them and shaking. But after a short while, Medic comes nearby and notices Sniper.

Once Medic is beside him, something snaps in Sniper. He tells Medic to take care of his S/O and he runs back to his nest. He proceeds to perform better than ever before, landing every single shot. He’s always waiting for the enemy Spy and never fails to blow his head off every single time he uncloaks.

At some point during the match, the Spy tries to get rid of Sniper. Before he can backstab him though, Sniper spins around and pins him down with his kukri to his throat. He uses his weapons to make the Spy pay for what he did before killing him.

After the battle, he becomes extremely distant. He goes to his camper and stays there for days, never leaving, not even to eat. He just lays in his bed, his face buried in his pillow, replaying what he saw in his head.

He turns to drinking to make the moment leave his mind. He had already been through so much in his life, this was the straw that broke the camel’s back. He becomes an alcoholic very quickly and just spends his free time drinking in his camper. His performance suffers drastically in battle and the REDs have several losses before the other mercs make him go through rehab before this becomes a permanent habit. He relapses several times but eventually recovers.

Out of all the mercs, he recovers the least. He permanently becomes more distant to the other mercenaries because he’s terrified of losing people he becomes attached to. He becomes much more introverted and often takes trips out into the wilderness for weeks.

Spy:

Spy happened upon his S/O’s body while he was cloaked, trying to sneak into the enemy base. When he noticed them, he threw himself around a corner and covered his mouth to stifle the surprised cry that came from it. There were several BLUs nearby, trying to push forward. He had to wait for several minutes crammed into a corner until the BLU pushed forward before he could go to his S/O.

The moment he was able to, he ran over to the body and picked them up, his voice breaking as he mumbled in French to them. He ran to safety and threatened Medic to make him bring them back somehow. He almost attacked him when he said he couldn’t. When he finally accepted that his S/O was gone, he slumped against the wall, holding them close and apologized over and over in French.

(Part of this point is based on another headcanon, though idk who's because I read it before I made this account.) After the battle though, he was very composed. He stayed with the body for several hours, just holding their hand and speaking softly, but he didn’t cry or sob. It was when he went to his smoking room that he lost it. He yelled in anger and shattered several bottles of alcohol. It was short and was over as quickly as it started. When he’s done, he stalks over to his chair and chainsmokes late into the night. Over the next few months, he has several short meltdowns in private.

He absolutely hates sleeping now. He just lies there and stares at the empty space in the bed where his S/O used to sleep. He remembers them snuggling up against him and smiling up at him before cupping his cheek in their hand. He often falls asleep crying.

Like Sniper, he tries to stay away from others a lot more after that, because he couldn’t bear to have another heartbreak like that. His ability to trust is also severely ruined. He never finds another partner.

[fuckyeahscienceparty]

hey if ur taking requests for writing...., what abt angsty among us idea- reports a body and like.. engie attends and it turns out medic was killed? and then hes heartbroken and really sad and angry at spy for killing medic? obviously u dont have to do this but the among au had me thinking about a ton of angsty scenarios lol. have a good day!!

i'm always takin requests! it may take me a while to get there but i will try my damndest to get it done at some point!

i actually had part of this in my drafts when you originally sent this ask but it's been reason enough to finish it, i think. i hope you like it, even if it's a bit messy :>

-

Per Aspera Ad Astra

In which an imposter experiences the loss of someone he loved and wasn't supposed to.

-

As Dell heard the emergency meeting alarm blare over the intercom and red lights flashed overhead, he looked up from the mass of wires he'd agreed to rearrange for Medic, furrowing his brow.

Odd. Spy hadn't made it clear to him that he was going to attempt anything that day and he knew for a fact that he himself hadn't made any sabotages since last week.

Then again, he'd noticed that this crew in particular had no qualms against using the emergency meeting button for more trivial things. Someone probably just wanted to get everyone's attention to look at some weird space bug that hitchhiked from their last stop on Pollus a few weeks ago or something along those lines. Standard procedure at that point.

He packed up the wires he'd been holding back into their panel before making his way out of electrical and towards the cafeteria, readjusting his goggles over his eyes to make sure nobody would find him out.

When he'd arrived, he could practically physically feel the shift in attitude of the rest of the crew since that morning, mentally noting that Medic was currently the only one of them missing.

"Tex, there you are. You uh. Might want to sit down for this one, lad," Demo said gravely, all the other crewmates' mumbling amongst each other dying down instantly as Spy stood to the side of the table, having said nothing ever since he himeself had arrived.

"Uhm. Sure, ok. Shouldn't we wait for Doc first, though? If it's actually important he should probably be here," He said, a confused smile coming to his face. Demo physcially winced.

"See, that's the thing, it's. It's Doc, he's..." Demo trailed off, Sniper moving to put a hand on his shoulder.

"He's?..." Engie frowned, having to take a moment before he realized what he'd meant.

It took another moment for the dread to set in.

"No. No, that- that's impossible, I- I just saw him like 30 minutes ago. I agreed to do one of his tasks for him while he finished cleaning the medbay so we could finish up for the day," He stuttered, looking anxiously between all the other faces at the table. None of them could meet his gaze even through his goggles, Spy in particular insisting on staring out the large window that peered into the vastness of space around them instead.

...Spy.

Spy said he wouldn't touch him- said he'd let him find a way to deal with all of this effectively and without having to kill this particular crew. Especially Medic. He said- no, he promised he wouldn't.

Engie's anger soon started bubbling inside of him, tightly clenching his fists that he oh so desperately wanted to sucker punch a certain other imposter in the face with. But then came the second realization of what he'd done and he felt his arms go slack again.

Medic was dead.

"...Where is he?" He finally whispered out, somewhere between heartbroken and seething.

"Medbay. Demo, Sniper, and I called for the meeting as quick as we could and did not get the chance to move his. Corpse," Soldier said, standing up straight and visibly uneasy at the mentioning of Medic's dead body.

Engie slowly nodded.

"Ok. Did you fellas, uh. Did- did you contact Pollus yet?"

"Not yet. I was gonna after the meetin's over. 's gonna take us a while to get there tho, at least 2 weeks," Scout said.

"I see. Did you three uh. Did you see anything?" Engie asked Demo, Sniper, and Soldier, all of them shaking their heads.

"Pyro, Heavy, 'n Scout were on comms because they were finished with tasks already and all three of 'em say they didn't see anyone go into Medbay after you left."

"...what about you, Spy? Been awfully quiet the entire time. And you don't have an alibi," Scout squinted. Spy scoffed.

"I was also finished with tasks, I've been in my quarters for at least 2 hours. You can even roll back footage on the cameras."

Pyro pressed a button on their suit, the small speaker on their chest panel letting out a soft 'kshh'.

"...he does have a point. Cams don't lie."

"What if he used the vents, though?"

"You really think this pansy's gettin' in any vents?"

"...Aight, fair point."

"I do not think we have enough information to make decision," Heavy sighed, every looking to each other in a vague sense of agreement.

"Skip vote, then?"

"Yeah, I think that's for the best."

"Alright lads, be on alert, then. If you see anythin' suspicious, y' know where the button is," Demo sighed, patting the plastic cover that protected the emergency meeting button.

Everyone mumbled out affirmations before getting up to head out, Pyro staying behind to raise their hand.

"Ay, what is it, Py?"

Kshh. "...who's taking care of uh. Y'know. The body."

Engie squeezed his eyes shut briefly.

"I'll do it."

"Tex, no, we couldn't ask you t-"

"Demo, it's fine. I'm not a child, you don't need to baby me. I can deal with it."

"If you're so sure..."

"It's fine. Really. You go make sure everyone else is doin' ok, lord knows they'd need it," Engie smiled softly, giving Demo a pat on the arm.

Demo's eyes still showed worry but he nodded, reciprocating the gesture before hurrying into the direction of nav where everyone else went.

Spy turned to leave but Engie stopped him, shifting his goggles back to his forehead.

"...Why did you do it?" He asked softly. He could've sworn that he saw the slightest break of stoicism on Spy's face but perhaps it was just the awful fluorescent lighting of the cafeteria playing tricks on him.

"You were taking too long. It was getting risky for us to be here. I thought it better to end it sooner rather than later," He said, any trace of emotion leaving as quickly as it came as he turned his head. Engie had no response.

"Remember what they did to us. To you. Just because one treated you kindly does not mean others will."

Silence.

"...Don't sabotage anything tonight. They'll get suspicious. Be prepared to leave this ship in a week's time, without the Medic they'll fall apart. Do I make myself clear?"

Still nothing. Spy frowned.

"I said, do I make myself clear, Dell?" He asked again, not even bothering to mask the threatening tone in his voice this time.

Engie squeezed his eyes shut again.

"...Yes. Yes, you do."

"Very well. I will see you in the morning," He said, moving so that Engie's hand no longer rested on his shoulder and starting to make his way to hallway that led to crew's personal quarters.

Spy paused to look back, a feeling that could almost be described as pity overcoming him. He sighed.

"...Get over it. You only knew him for less than 8 months, anyways," He said softly before leaving Engie alone, footsteps echoing against the metal floors of the ship.

When he felt he was ready, Engie made his way to the Medbay with full expectations of what he would find there.

He just. Didn't expect it to hurt so much.

Medic's body lay on the floor in between the scanner and the large computer it was attached to, his normally bright cyan suit soaked in red and a sizable gash made into his back. There was a broken test tube that had fallen out of his hand a little ways away and one of the lensed of his glasses had been cracked, most likely from the impact of falling onto the floor.

Engie took in a deep breath before carefully sitting him up against the nearest wall, preparing himself to find something to clean up the blood that hadn't managed to be absorbed into his space suit.

He wasn't used to Medic being so.. quiet. Lifeless, if you would. He couldn't remember a single time he'd felt a pain in his chest as intense as this.

It was then that his anger suddenly came back, barely being able to contain himself before he turned around and ended up making a decently large crack in the monitor.

He tried to control the emotions that came flooding after, tried to keep himself from feeling this way over this one human when he'd aided the destruction of countless others, but when he felt himself shaking, he fell to his knees, a sob escaping him.

He shouldn't have gotten attached. He shouldn't have, it wasn't like him- like an imposter to get attached, and yet here he was, crying on the Medbay floor as blood soaked into his already red suit and glass shards clinked against the desk as they fell off piece by piece.

Serves him right for believing in humans, he guesses. Serves him right for having the audacity to care.

...what a stupid decision, that was.

[thetriggeredhappy]

angst&hurt/comfort, where scout is anxious and doubts his skills, so he tries to calm himself by holding/hugging/whatever his plushie (or something else, idk), whilst someone is trying to get to him, to make him confess what is bothering him? idk if you wanna make it a ship ir maybe dad spy, ily -🦂

oh dude you already KNOW dad!spy hours are 24/7 up in here. welcome to “projecting RSD onto Scout TF2 episode 85″

-

Stupid summer, stupid break, stupid losing streak. Stupid everything.

Usually Scout was excited about breaks. A week or so of getting to be off work, heading home to visit family or going on a road trip or whatever was happening. It was nice, he loved it. But this time they had explicit orders from their boss not to go anywhere or do anything. To stay on base or to go specifically exclusively to the store in the nearest town for food or whatever. He hated it. The base was too small to hang out in for more than a few days at a time. He hated it.

And not to mention that they’d finished off work on a bad note. A day of losses turning into a week of losses, half the team scrambling to try and pull together enough to get one last good push in before the break and the other half deciding to just accept the loss and do better once they got back.

And every day after battle Soldier would single out someone who wasn’t on top of their game and lecture them. And all week, instead of going for the people who were largely slacking off and not breaking their necks to try and get them some actual wins, he went after Scout, who was so frantic that he kept making stupid mistakes.

And he just... usually he argued about it, and got in a fight with Soldier, but he just... didn’t have the energy for it. The day was over. They’d lost. And Scout knew it wasn’t entirely his fault, but it kind of felt like it. Maybe if he’d tried just a little bit harder, pushed himself just a little further, he could’ve gotten the rest of the team motivated. Maybe they all would’ve picked things back up and tried too. But he couldn’t do it.

It was frustrating. He knew his job, beyond what he did on the field, was trying to keep morale up. He kept music playing, he was always up for hanging out or playing a few hands of poker or headed into town with someone to get shitty fast food. And he tried really hard to be funny and to keep things lighthearted, tried so fucking hard to keep spirits up. And he knew if he said anything about it, pointed out how literally like all of his time was spent trying to make sure everyone was feeling okay, it would...

He didn’t know. Maybe they’d just tell him off for being whiny or whatever. Maybe it would stop working so well, if they knew he was always doing it so extremely on purpose, so intentionally. He didn’t know.

But at that moment, he was feeling so much like utter garbage that he knew he had to just avoid the team so he didn’t drag the mood down further. Usually they didn’t really miss him anyways, other than idly asking if he’d gotten into any trouble while he was off doing “whatever he did”. All he knew was that him feeling like shit around everyone else would just make them feel bad too. And it was break anyways—maybe they’d just end up feeling better on their own. Especially since he wasn’t around to interrupt them.

He had plenty of food in his room, mostly chips and candy bars and stuff like that, stuff he didn’t want the guys stealing. And he’d totally share if they asked, for sure, but for that moment he was mostly just digging through the hoard for himself and doing not much of anything else.

He felt like kind of an idiot, sitting alone and eating his feelings like some kind of angsty teen in a movie or the chick in the romcom who just got broken up with. But there was nobody there to ridicule him except himself. And he did, but... the point stood.

A few days passed like that. He had food, he had the little bathroom connected to his room, he had comics to entertain himself. He slept a lot, mostly. Felt like garbage. Read some comics. Ate chocolate about it. Slept some more. He left a few times to do a few assorted things—called home like he did every week, went into the common room late one night to grab some of his records back so he could listen to them.

At one point, he got a knock on his door. He didn’t answer, couldn’t seem to find the energy to. A second knock when the first was unanswered after about twenty seconds. He still didn’t move.

The next day, another knock. This one was accompanied by words. “Scout? I know you’re in there,” Spy called, sounding annoyed.

To be honest, Scout was pretty sure he didn’t have the energy to deal with whatever Spy was about to lecture him about. So he just rolled over.

“You’ve missed every team meal for almost four days. You’re being rude,” Spy declared.

Scout reached off the side of the bed and picked up a plushie that had fallen down. It was a big, chunky pig, and he’d won it when he and Pyro had gone out to a fair and he’d knocked the ball toss game out of the park. Pyro had taken three of the plushies he’d won, and insisted he keep the fourth for himself.

He felt like even more of a dumb baby, sitting there cradling a stuffed animal like he was scared to head off to his first day of kindergarten, but he was already too tired and filled with vague unrest for it to get to him much.

At some point he heard a heavy sigh and the clack of fancy shoes moving away down the hallway, and Scout relaxed.

Twenty minutes later, a knock.

“Scout, let me in,” Spy said firmly.

“Fuck off, Spy,” Scout snapped.

“Scout, if you don’t open the door, I’m going to,” Spy declared.

“Bullshit.”

A heavy sigh, and then a few moments later the door swung open.

“What the fuck?” Scout asked, lifting his head to glare towards the door as Spy stepped inside.

“I know how to pick locks, Scout. You know this.” Spy squinted to try to get used to the light, the blinds having been drawn. “I’m turning a light on.”

Scout just grumbled, dropping his head back into the plush pig. In his periphery, the light was indeed turned on. There was a beat of silence.

“I brought a plate from dinner. I was concerned you would get scurvy, since you now apparently have the diet of an eight year old child who was given a hundred dollars and left unsupervised at the grocery store,” Spy said dryly.

“I don’t want your fuckin’ handouts, Spy,” Scout muttered, muffled.

“It’s not a handout, it’s the fact that I refuse to have anyone on the team besides me whose teeth are falling out. Take the food.”

“Fuck off.”

Spy sighed again, and after a moment he moved to put the plate on the bedside table. Scout prickled at the proximity, but didn’t give him the satisfaction of looking up.

“I noticed that while you haven’t been at dinner, you still took the time to leave a thumb tack on my chair. Usually when you do that it’s because you’re angry with me. What exactly have I done?”

“I’m not mad at you, I’m just mad,” Scout grumbled.

“You know, it’s very childish to refuse to look at someone when they are trying to talk to you.”

“Guess I’ll just keep being the dumb idiot kid of the team then, huh?” Scout snapped.

Silence for a moment. “Scout. You’ve locked yourself away in your room and refused to come out again for several days. I know that something is wrong. The team does too—they’re starting to worry.”

“That might just be the most obvious lie you’ve ever fuckin’ told me, Spy,” Scout practically spat, and was glad to have his voice muffled, because suddenly it went a little tight.

“Is it that hard to believe that perhaps your teammates care about you?” Spy asked, a little sharply.

“It’s me, in case you haven’t noticed,” Scout said next, getting his voice back under control. “People don’t hang around me on purpose. They put up with me. And then they stop putting up with me at some point.”

“That’s not true,” Spy said, tone leaving no room for argument, but Scout elbowed some argument in anyways.

“All seven of my brothers, every fuckin’ date I’ve ever been on, the standing ban sayin’ I can’t go in Engie’s workshop or in Heavy’s workspace down by the boiler or the infirmary unless I’m actually seriously injured—“ Scout listed off, ticking off on his fingers, keeping his face hidden. “My own fucking dad decided he couldn’t fucking stand me and I was two years old, Spy, what the hell does that tell you? I’m an annoying little piece of shit and that’s all I’m ever gonna be and then one of these days I’m gonna die for real out in this hellhole desert and ain’t a single damn person out here will have ever even bothered to learn the name that’s supposed to go on my gravestone.”

Dead silence in the room. Scout’s arm fell back down by his side. His voice was shaky when he spoke again.

“Nobody’s ever even asked,” he managed. “Demo’s real name is Tavish, Heavy’s real name is Mikhal but his sisters call him Misha. And plenty of you guys get asked about it all the time but you don’t wanna say. And nobody’s ever even fuckin’ asked me.”

Silence for a few more seconds.

“I’m a whole person,” Scout said next. “I’m really into sci-fi. I’ve read every mainline issue comic book ever published after ‘35. I know how to cook and draw and I know the all the stats of every person on every major league baseball team. I was in theater in high school between track and baseball season in the winters and I and got a lead role on some Shakespearicles thing before it got cancelled because of budget cuts. I bet you didn’t even know that.”

“I didn’t,” Spy admitted.

“And why would you? Who the fuck cares? It’s just dumb scrawny idiot Scout, who the fuck cares what his deal is? He can barely do his job and read any word that’s over four syllables, who cares what he does? He ain’t nothin’ today, he must never have been somethin’ in the first place.”

“Scout—“

“Tell me I’m wrong, Spy,” he snapped, voice cracking down the middle.

“You’re wrong. Scout, what’s going on?” Spy asked, and his voice sounded closer, like he’d taken a knee. “What happened?”

He understood, logically, that telling Spy damn near anything was a bad idea. He sold information for a living. But logic hadn’t ever been much help to him, and anyways, he was pretty sure he was about to break down either way, and he could either cry like a dumb little baby and Spy could go to the rest of the team and tell them about stupid Scout and his crying for no reason, or he could at least sort of maybe a little bit sound justified and a little bit less completely unhinged.

“We lost all week because I fuckin’ suck at my job, and we don’t get to go off base for some goddamn reason, and I miss my family, and I—“ God damn it, he hoped to at least get to a second sentence before he broke, but here came the waterworks. “—and I know the team doesn’t give a shit, and if they even noticed they probably think I’m being some idiot baby, and I’m just so fuckin’ tired of all of this, alright? I’m just so goddamn exhausted, all the time, and no matter what I do I can’t make my own stupid, shitty, broken-ass brain shut up, and I...”

There was a hand on his shoulder, now. For some reason that’s what unstuck the sob in his throat.

“And I just miss my mom,” he managed, and sobbed again. “And I know that just makes me a stupid fucking baby—“

“Scout, it doesn’t,” Spy said firmly.

“Bullshit.”

A sigh, less exasperated than the others. “Scout, I miss my own parents. Often. Heavy writes to his mother, the Bushman calls home once a week and stays on the phone for an hour at a time. Do you think they would do that if they didn’t miss them?”

Scout couldn’t seem to find his voice, and just sniffled a little.

“If anything, it’s good that you miss your mother. You are appreciating her now, while she’s still part of your life, rather than later on when she’s gone. That’s a good thing.”

“Here I am cryin’ over dumb shit—“

“The fact that you’re even capable of tears shows that you haven’t completely sealed yourself off from your emotions like several of our testosterone-puppet teammates. I’m fairly certain that Medic surgically removed his own tear ducts. I think Soldier is so dehydrated that he’s incapable of it. And rather than sweat he needs to cover himself in liquid-like food products or else he’ll die of heat stroke.”

Despite everything, that made Scout laugh, just a little. More of a hiccup than anything else.

“Admittedly, you have greater social needs than several of our team, and they need to take breaks. Not just from you, but from everyone. It’s part of being human, everyone requires some amount of time alone or else they start losing their minds. But that doesn’t mean that they don’t care about you—value the things you do for this team, even. Every time someone would like company when going in to town for any reason, they always ask me where you are. And you’ve given good film recommendations to everyone except for the Sniper.”

“Guy hates movies,” Scout defended weakly.

“You keep recommending horror films. As it turns out, he is a fan of romantic comedies.”

“Fuckin’ what? Seriously?”

“I was shocked too. His complete lack of taste in all areas of his life continues to amaze me.”

Scout scoffed at that. A beat of silence.

“What I am saying is that the team doesn’t simply put up with you. You’re impossible to simply put up with, you take up too big a part of everyone’s life here. Instead, they must like and respect you.” A pause. “And your father must have truly been an idiot. Anyone with two eyes would be proud of the challenges you’ve faced and overcome with all of the disadvantages you’ve been dealt over your lifetime.”

Scout sniffled, wiped his eyes with his forearm, finally managed to look up at Spy. “Anyone with two eyes? You sayin’ you’re proud of me, then?” he asked, even if it was a little shaky.

“I feel no strong emotions,” Spy deadpanned.

“Alright, nevermind about earlier. That’s the most obvious lie you’ve ever told me.”

Spy rolled his eyes, standing, brushing off the knee of his suit.

Scout looked at the plate, made a face. “Aw man, what the fuck, is that asparagus? Is Medic back on trying to make us eat healthy again?”

“The Engineer cooked it, stop complaining and just eat it,” Spy said, quickly falling back into his role of naggy just on the near side of patronizing.

“C’mon, it couldn’t have been like, mashed potatoes or broccoli or somethin’?”

“You always douse those things in salt and butter. That combined with the energy drinks means you’re going to get a heart condition before I do.”

“Just get the fuck outta my room, Spy,” Scout huffed, putting the stuffed animal aside and moving to pick up the plate and utensils.

“Very well. And go talk to Demoman at some point, he’s been whining about nobody wanting to go get fast food with him for two days,” Spy said as he walked to the door. “And you can’t borrow my car to go.”

“Fuck you, Spy,” Scout said flippantly, waving him off.

“Fuck you too,” Spy said just as casually, and made sure to close the door behind him.

[lu-undy]

(This is my second time requesting after you opened your askbox, but you wouldn't know that :)) Lu and Medic play a violin and piano duet together (or Demo plays the piano and Lu sings) and Mundy kinda has a bruh moment wherein he realizes he loves Lucien

Hey there! Glad to see you come back :D !! Here it is, Spy sings like a God, hope you enjoy!

"So, what did you prepare for tonight, fancypants?" 

"Scout, ask me one more time and what you will need to prepare for tonight is your will." 

"Alright, alright…" Scout sighed. "You party pooper…" He mumbled to himself.

Sniper smothered his chuckle. Around the dinner table, the mercenaries were enjoying their dinner, their dessert to be more precise.

"Pardon?" Spy asked menacingly in his native tongue. 

"N-nothing…" Scout hid behind his yogurt, scared. 

"So, tonight is Spy's turn, right?" Engie asked, to brighten things up.

"Oui. I asked Demo for some help."

"You yelled at me for the entire week, mate. Please, Engie, never let him rehearse his stuff with me, send anyone else but me!" Demo took a swig of his beloved scrumpy. 

"I only pushed you to give your best for our performance tonight." Spy simply answered and he saw Sniper roll his eyes with a smile. 

"Alrighty then, if we're finished with dinner, you guys go and get ready, we'll come in about half an hour."

"Very well. Demoman, I will not wait for you." 

[Très bien.]

"Someone please save me from him…" Demo exaggerated his plea.

"C'mon, mate, how hard can it be?" Sniper said to comfort him. 

"Well, very hard! Next time, you go and work with him!" 

Sniper blushed as Demo and Spy left the room. 

It was a habit now. Every couple of nights, one mercenary would prepare something to entertain his colleagues. It could be a movie, a game of whatever to play or watch all together, anything. They had put that in place in order to spend less dull evenings in that harsh winter. Being the only building for miles around in the blizzard meant that they were stuck for the entire winter there. 

Pyro and Scout finished washing the dishes while people slowly gathered in the training room. It had been turned into a second living room with seats and a TV screen, if one could forget the boxing ring and other sports accessories and installations. 

"Right, I think we're all here. Sniper, the lights, please?" 

Sniper nodded and flipped the switch before taking a seat at the back of course, given how tall he was. The main light turned off and Pyro switched on a spotlight. 

Silence fell for a moment and then, footsteps. Spy appeared, better dressed than usual, which Sniper thought was barely even possible. He was wearing a black tuxedo and black and white polished leather shoes. His eyes shone beautifully under the spotlight. 

Suddenly, a few piano notes. A second light switched on and showed Demo on the piano behind Spy. The latter propped himself up to sit on the piano and grabbed the nearby microphone to start singing as the piano carried his voice. 

{To the reader: the song is "Windmills of your mind" as sung by Noel Harrison}

"Round, like a circle in a spiral,

Like a wheel within a wheel,

Never ending or beginning

On an ever-spinning reel."

Sniper's eyes snapped wide. Spy was speaking more than he was singing and it was so pleasant to hear… His accent helped to make it more true somehow, more mellow.

The notes on the piano accompanied the Frenchman's voice beautifully, coming and going again, in an endless and cyclic arpeggio…

Spy was saying the words like he would declaim a poem, his voice ever so slightly flowing on the notes, the syllables stressed as they should be, the rhythm impeccably followed. His brow would furrow at times, and relax at others, and if at first he started with open eyes, by now, his eyes were shut and he was drinking the meaning of the words he was saying as if it was the air he needed to breathe.

Suddenly he elegantly dropped down from the piano and stood proud in front of his audience. He held the microphone a bit further from his lips and opened his arms, revealing a vest that Sniper had never seen him wear before. Black with satin cashmere motifs that glimmered under the spotlight...

"Keys that jingle in your pocket,

Words that jangle in your head."

Spy's voice was slightly more powerful, it was only a small difference in volume, but Sniper felt his ribcage and his knees tremble. He shook his head to shoo those feelings away and took a deep breath.

"Why did summer go so quickly?

Was it something that you said?

Lovers walk along the shore 

And leave their footprints in the sand. 

Is the sound of distant drumming

Just the fingers of your hand?

Pictures hanging in a hallway,

And the fragment of a song,

Half remembered names and faces,

But to whom do they belong?"

Spy opened his eyes and Sniper's snapped wide open. His long, dark eyelashes seemed different, were they wet? His light blue, almost grey irises were glistening…

"When I knew that it was over,

I was suddenly aware

That the autumn leaves were turning

To the color 

Of his hair."

Spy's keen eyes never left Sniper's half mesmerised and three quarters thrilled ones. The poor Aussie felt as if he was the only person in the audience to a concert that suddenly became very private. His heart was pumping fast, unlike Spy's rhythm which slowed down. He was back to whispering, a gloved hand on his heart, and said, much more slowly this time:

"The autumn leaves were turning 

To the colour

Of his hair."

Demo concluded with a few bars on the piano and then came to a halt. Spy nodded to him and new chords rolled in the air. The rhythm was a samba's, much more lively and light-hearted. Spy snapped his fingers in rhythm.

{To the reader: the song is "So Nice" I recommend the version by Sangah Noona}

"Someone to hold me tight,

That would be very nice,

Someone to love me right,

That would be very nice.

Someone to understand 

Each little dream in me,

Someone to take my hand,

To be a team with me.

So nice,

Life would be so nice, 

If one day I find

Someone who would take my hand and samba through life with me." 

Soldier started rocking left and right on his seat, dragging Engie with him. Medic joined them and Spy, seeing that his rhythmic song was dragging everyone in a good mood, started smiling. Not only did his lips purse up but his eyes were expressing genuine delight somehow. 

Sniper was smiling too, a dreamy grin as he rested his chin on his hand and his elbow on his armrest, slowly melting on his chair. 

"What the hell…." He mumbled to himself as he straightened his back on his chair and tried to resume a more normal posture.

The music accelerated as Medic dragged Heavy to swinging on his chair too. 

"Someone to cling to me

stay with me right or wrong,"

The Aussie couldn't believe it. Spy was dancing. The man with a sense of humor as big as a green pea was dancing. And God those hips! He was swinging them almost seductively and Sniper's heart skipped a beat… How come the Frenchman was so flexible with his hips?! 

Sniper opened the first button of his polo shirt as a sweat started breaking on his brow.

"Someone to sing to me

Some little samba song!

Someone to take my heart and give his heart to me,

Someone who's ready to give love a start with me!"

Spy winked at Sniper who blushed and looked left and right to see if it was for someone else.

"Oh yes, 

That would be so nice."

Sniper now breathed heavily, the room was hot, way too hot.

"Should it be you and me?

I could see it would be nice!"

He removed his hat and carded his hair, feeling some fresh air flow through it to cool down his scalp. Sniper was blushing way beyond his ears. He looked down for a second, as Demo improvised on the piano and when he raised his head up again, Spy had disappeared from the improvised stage. The rest of the mercenaries had stood up and were dancing to Demo playing. 

Sniper was panting. The image of Spy, his piercing eyes riveted on him, dancing slowly, swinging his hips was carved on his eyes as if it was marble. And that wink...

He shook his head again as he started to realise why he was sweating like that, why he had enjoyed every second of Spy staring at him even though he would never admit so...

A whistle caught his attention. 

Sniper turned his head. It had come from the door. He barely saw a silhouette slip away. Without thinking, he stood up and followed it. He pushed the door and exited the training room. The sound of the music and dancing was deafened by the closed door now and Sniper focused on knowing where that shadow went. 

The corridor was very dark. He reached for a switch but didn't flip it. Something told him that it was better that way. 

The whistle again. 

Sniper went to find its source but as he came to find it, he heard the base's main door shut. He went there and exited himself. 

The night was pitch dark and the wind was howling. Sniper looked around him and saw nothing. But he heard the slam of a metallic door that he instantly recognised. Whoever he was following, they had entered his van. Sniper followed suit and found himself inside in no time. 

It was pitch dark inside but there was a tiny orange glimmering light and the smell of a menthol cigarette soon found his nose.

"I see you enjoyed the show." The voice with the French accent said. 

The orange light came from the end of Spy's cigarette. 

"Yeah, well, it was pretty good."

"Good enough for you to follow a shadow all the way here…"

"Yeah, it was decent."

"...without this." Spy finished his sentence and Sniper felt something land on his head. His pupils shrank as he realised he had forgotten his very hat.

"Y-yeah well… I had to make sure it was one of us and not… an intruder or something."

Spy spotted the bad lie as he would an elephant in a porcelain shop.

"How would anyone come to the base through this blizzard? Even the Mann Co. supplies have stopped coming. The roads are blocked, airdrop is impossible. No intruders can come here, by no means."

"Y-you never know." Sniper answered. 

"Non, but you did." 

"What?" 

"You knew it was me you were following. You didn't know where I was going and why I kept whistling at you for you to follow me, but you did and here we are: in that ridiculous dwelling of yours that you dare call a home."

"Oi, my van's the perfect place." 

"For what?"

Sniper felt Spy get closer to him. They were face to face in the dark and Sniper saw Spy's eyes reflect the faint lights coming from the base.

"You tell me." Spy answered with a smirk that Sniper heard somehow. 

"What d'you want?" Sniper asked. 

"An honest answer." 

"What's your question?"

"Why do you think I chose those songs to sing to you?" 

Sniper felt hot as he was put on the spot. 

"What d'you mean?" 

"I sang for you, that, you have noticed. But why those songs in particular? What was their message?"

Sniper sighed. He moved to sit on his worn out couch. 

"I-I don't know, okay? And that's a lot of questions. J-just go and leave me here." 

Spy sat next to him. 

"Let me ask you something else then, how did you find my suit tonight?" 

Sniper's eyes snapped wide when he felt Spy's hand on his forearm. It soothed him as much as it made him anxious. 

"Elegant, beautiful, classy." 

"Thank you." Spy said with a smile. "I did try to make an effort."

"Y-yeah, I noticed." 

"Did you notice my mask?" 

"N-no, I mean… It's the same one as usual." 

"Not exactly." Spy answered. "Switch on the light, you will see it better."

Sniper stood up and flipped the switch. When he turned again to face the Frenchman, he choked on his saliva and coughed multiple times. He put a hand on his eyes and another on his chest to ease his cough while Spy chuckled. 

"Mon pauvre ami… I half apologise for this."

[My poor friend]

"Oh, Lord, Spook…" Sniper said between two fits of cough as he still hid his eyes behind his hand.

Spy giggled. 

"You did have your mask back there, right? I didn't just imagine it?"

"I did have it. I removed it as I entered your van. You may look if you want." 

"B-but, isn't that against your rules or something?"

"My rules?" Spy repeated, amused. 

"Yeah, I don't know, whatever rules or codes or whatever you Spooks have."

Spy chuckled. 

"There are no such things, Sniper. If I hide my face, it is because I would rather people not see me and recognise me. It is better that way." 

"Then why show me your face?" Sniper asked his hand still hiding his eyes to not see his friend.

"Because I am still a free man and I do what I want."

"And you want to show me your face?" 

"Why not?" 

"Spook, I swear… You're a whole new level of complicated."

Spy put his hand on Sniper's and pulled it away, slowly. Sniper couldn't help but stare. It seemed as though he was discovering a whole new person. It wasn't Spy, it was… well, someone else. 

"Do I have something on my face for you to stare like this?" Spy teased.

"Well," Sniper felt himself sweating again, "I'd say you're missin' something on your face, but eh, who am I to say?"

Spy chuckled. 

"Would you rather I put the mask back?" He cheekily asked. 

"No - I mean, if you're more comfy with it, put it on but…"

"But?" Spy pushed his luck. 

Sniper was staring at his hair. It was mostly black but there was a front grey tuft and the temples too betrayed Spy's age.

"But I-I don't know… Thanks, I guess." 

"For what?" Spy asked. 

"For feeling like you can show me your face. I guess that means you think you can trust me - oh."

Spy had taken Sniper's hand off his face but he wasn't letting go of it. Non, instead he laced his fingers through it. 

"And now?" Spy asked. 

"And now what?" 

"Now, do you know why I chose to sing these songs for you?" 

Sniper blushed. 

"I-I don't know… I'm not sure. Can't you just say it? It'd be a lot easier for the both of us!"

"For you, oui, for me however, it would be quite difficult." 

Sniper rolled his eyes. 

"How hard can it be?" He asked. 

"Almost as hard as what I'm about to do is foolish…" Spy closed the gap between the two of them and pushed his lips against Sniper's. 

Sniper froze. His muscles froze, his blood froze, his heart stopped sharp, like a watch stops at the time of death, Sniper's body burst alive all at once. His hands flew forward to hold Spy closer, his eyes rolled and closed, and his eyebrows slowly rose and relaxed. Spy's naked hands slid up to Sniper's cheeks and he stayed there, hanging from Sniper's lips with his own.

Eventually, they broke the kiss. 

"Woah… Spook, I didn't know you, uh…"

Spy raised his light blue, almost grey eyes to Sniper.

"Did you even realise that you held those feelings for me too?" 

"M-maybe." 

"Sniper…?" 

"Right, yeah, I realised it when you sang today. I-I just felt weird and I knew…"

Spy smiled sweetly, as he brushed Sniper's cheek with his long and slim fingers. 

"I'm glad you feel the same." Spy said. 

"As if you were surprised… You look gorgeous with that suit on and now, without the mask, you're just…" Sniper's eyes darted to every detail of Spy's face. 

He bit his lip and suddenly pulled Spy's head to him again. He kissed Spy with such force and passion that Spy lost his legs. Thank God he was sitting down and Sniper was holding him, or he would have flowed down to the floor like a liquid. 

[uwuowotf2waslife]

Mercs reaction to coming back from a long away mission and finding out s/o had been cuddling into his left behind shirts/blankets bc it smelled like him and they missed him so much it was the only way they could sleep?

this isnt a headcanon, this is a canon if i ever saw one

Scout: my boy always gets extra exhausted after a mission, so he just gets into his& S/Os room and plops in the bed without looking,probably still in his work clothes. At some pointin the night, he will wake up to use the loo. Returning he sits down and feels something funny under his butt, it isnt soft like a bedsheet and it feels somewhat familiar. He scoops it up and inspects it..it feels excactly like one of his shirts...now,maybe...he searches with his hands a bit more and he feels more of his clothes like a blanket around you. His heart has officialy melted and he needs to contain himself from jumping onto you and hugging the light out of you.He will spoon you and kiss your shoulder, prepare to be drown in kisses and affection, he wont stop untill your or his bladder is about to burst

Soldier: he might be the messiest but he always cleans after finising a mission. After he has done a shower and scrub all that mud and blood from him , he puts a nice pair of pyjamas trousers and hes about to hit the bed when he releases you are on his bed- thats fine you have been together for a while and lowkey he loves to sleep next to you, your heartbeat lulls him-but you are holding onto something. He turns the light in the hallway and opens the door slighlty so he can look but it wont wake you. Its his jacket, the red one he ussualy wears to battle...congratulations, you are now his waifu material. He closes the light and carefully slips on the bed next to you, softly he pulls the jacket off you and snuggle you, he even gives you soft forehead kisses.

Pyro: they never take off their suit, only for bathing and they are sure to always have at least 2 spares in case something happens to the one their wearing.Their suits inside smells like hell, but they change it once the smell gets too much and bathe everyday with special soaps and make sure they wash their suits once everyday other day.So the one time they cant find their spare, they are having a mild panic attack. They are running up and down the base, trying to find it; it cant be gone, when they left for the mission they made sure they had a spare in their closet.They are about to hold Scout on gunpoint to confess but they have an idea, they havent looked at S/Os room. They drop Scoutand go to S/Os room...they see them all cuddled up with their spare...theyknow they should be angry, but they can’t. Their suit is like their skin,and seeing you cuddling it, it makes them sniffle a little. You missed them so much, you took one of their spares and risked to be burned to a crisp by them if they had a bad mindset that day just to be with them.They lock the door behind them and pull of their suit - something they do when you are alone- and gently rock you awake. You smile at them and pull them to lie with you on the bed and they oblige. Que soft make out with they rub circles on your arms and hands.

Engie: its very rare for him to go for missions, but when it happens it happens he guesses. He isnt that exhausted but his back hurts from being crouched all day so some lying down would do him some good. He opens his rooms doo and he yeets the goggles out of his eyes- you aresleeping on his bed wearning his flanel shirt and holding one of his shirts in your chest.He curses himself for not having a polaroid but damn hun, how can you be so damn cute? He undresses as fast and quiet he cans and softly scoots you over a bitso he can cuddle you...he has a funny idea and pulls one of the bundle of the shirts over him. He basically makes himself a lump covered with shirt and trousers. He pinches you so you wake up, look around mumble something and pulling the shirt lump closer you..but wait why is it heavy and why is it warm...you pull your face closer to look at it better and suddently two strong pair of arms come and hold you. You scream and almost jump off the bed but he keeps you there and peppers your face with suprose and swrry kisses.

Demo: after every succesfull mission, its a known fact that Demo gets plastered. So either Heavy or Soldier will yeet him on his bed because they want the sofa for themselves to watch a movie. S/O of course wakes up and holds him in a position where he is least likely to vomit or drool. During his sleep, they get more and more tangled together. He wakes up by a throbbing headacke and try to block the sun with the first thing his hand finds. You stir next to him and bring him some water and painkillers. He glups it down without even openinghis eyes and pulls you down for some more cuddles. Once the painkillers kick in he opens his eye and realises his been using his own shirt asa blindfold, so he throws it away and suprise, he is lying on and is tangled by his own clothes...was he that plastered? but you jus tsaid Heavy yeeted him here, so that means..aww you sweet lil bunny, he is pulling you in for a tight hug and gives you a soft kiss.

Heavy: he isnt that tired, but after so many hours in an airplane his legs hurt so much and no matter of stretches will help. He really needs to lie down. He knocks on the door and waits for a respond, you just mumble a ‘come in’ so he opens the door and steps inside. His heart explodes right here and there. You are the cutest thing he has ever seen in his entire life, all wrapped up in his sweater. He pulls you up and swings a bit, holding you against his chest, You mished old Misha so much you wore his clothes to sleep? Well, now ,from now youll sleep on Mishas chest to never miss him again.

Medic: he is about to collapse,so he does the only logical thing that comes to mind; wash his hands, take off his shoes and pass ou thappily oh his bed with his S/O by his side. He gets all comfy and hes about to spoon when he feels something different on  his S/O, that weirdly feels like one of his medical robes. He has a smug smirk on his face but he is way too tired to do anything silly so he rubs your shoulder and pulls you for a cuddle. You wake up and feel Medic sprawled on the bed next to you-hes a huge  blankethog-so you give him a small kiss and snuggle a bit closer only for him to pounce and get you under him. “ You missed me so much schwatz, now you can wear me too” he gives you small kisses on both the head and the nose.

Sniper: he is no stranger to missions, he always liked extra work- keeps his mind sharp and his aim even sharper, but hed be a liarif he said he didnt miss you...perhaps way more than you think. He even semi-jogs his way to his S/O room, because his heart is pounding so hard he feels its gonna pop out of his chest. His mind is full of insecurities, why the lights are closed, why you arent on the common room? maybe you gotbored of him, maybe you found...the trail of thought chokes him so much he doesnt see you on the bed...but holly molly, he takes of his glasses and desperately tries to find his polaroid in his bag and snap a few pics of you. You are his angel, so pure and wrapped in his trusted rugged flannel shirt. Once hes satisfied he pets your hair and rubs your cheek untill you wake up. Then he lies on top of you and gives you lots of kisses and soft nothings. You kiss him back and just drown in his affection.

Spy: its not uncommon for him to leave for missions here and there, more than the other mercs. He isnt that tired,but he needs a bit of a lying down after a long flight and barely enough nicotine to keep him sane. He leaves the dufflebag on one of his couch in his smoking room and gets in the shower. He wonders where you are, but figures maybe you have some work or you are out for errands or something. Once his done, he puts a new balaclava and hes about to go for a nice nap when he notices you sprawled up with one of his work suits snuggled on your chest. Call him soft, call him an old romantic dilf, but this dilf smiles from ear to ear. You missed him so much, you slept with his suit...he means that much to you? he really wants to wake you up with kisses but he decides to just light a cigarrete and absorb the view. Once hes done, he lies next to you and pulls the shirt away from you, and just wraps his limbs around you and lets you snuggle on his chest. You mumble his name and then just snuggle tighter, yeap his heart has shattered. He gives you a soft kiss on the crown of the headand mumbles some apologises.Please hold him, he is having a small breakdown.

[antagonistchanremade]

my main playstyle for each class:

scout: stock scattergun, pretty boy’s pocket pistol, atomizer. i’m pretty good at dodging and capping the objective, but i can’t aim for shit and i have a bad habit of overextending. was my main for a crazy long time and i still have far more hours on it than any other class, but as my skill has increased with the other classes the same can’t really be said for scout, so he’s falling behind a little.

soldier 1: rocket jumper, mantreads, market gardener. i try and fail to trolldier.

soldier 2: air strike, stock launcher, or direct hit; buff banner, battalion’s backup, or stock shotgun; disciplinary action. with the air strike, i try and fail to rain death down on the world; with the stock launcher, i do a pretty decent job with splash damage; with the direct hit, i do a pretty decent job with direct hits. i try to use the banner/backup regularly, but if i’m using the shotgun i only take it out against pyros. and i use the disciplinary action fairly effectively as a mobility tool.

pyro: stock flamethrower, flare gun, axtinguisher, though i may easily switch out one or more of them for something else depending on my mood, especially the secondary and melee. i’d honestly be best off just w+m1′ing, but the longstanding stigma against w+m1′ing combined with my self-consciousness means that i try to do a bit more comboing with the flare gun and axtinguisher. it doesn’t generally work out well for me. if i’m using the Detonator i’m mostly gonna use it for Detonator jumps rather than for actual flare stinging.

demo: iron bomber, stock sticky launcher, stock bottle. it’s a pity that demo is one of my more well-played classes these days because my inventory for demo- both in terms of cosmetics and in the actual usable stuff. i only just got the Iron Bomber (and i specifically picked it out myself, since i got it by using a war paint), and i also plan on getting the Claidheamh Mòr the same way. why these? the Iron Bomber’s supposedly easier to aim than stock once you get the hang of it (and while i haven’t gotten the hang of it yet, i can already see what people mean when they say that), and the Claidheamh Mòr is the best sword for demos who don’t really want swords, since it has no downsides when sheathed. i want a sword, but not really, i don’t wanna deal with the downsides of all the other swords, so. Claidheamh Mòr. and then the Scottish Resistance is probably the best sticky launcher, but it’s a bit of a hassle, especially for sticky jumping which i really like doing, and stock is definitely second best, and i don’t really want a shield. but while i like the sticky launcher, i kinda avoid using it for similar reasons why i tend to avoid w+m1′ing- the stigma. since i barely use it, i’m considering switching to a shield. probably the Targe since it has the most resistances and would thus keep me alive the best.

heavy: stock minigun, second banana, and either the GRU or the warrior’s spirit. stock minigun and the tomislav are generally considered the only *really* viable miniguns and i don’t have the tomislav; the second banana and sandvich are the best lunchboxes and while i have three sandviches it’s been the meta for forever and the second banana was only added at the end of 2017 so it’s more novel. the GRU is basically the meta melee for Heavy for very good reason. and finally, the Warrior’s Spirit has a reputation for being really terrible, but i noticed after watching a video about potential rebalancing that it really doesn’t sound all that bad on paper? so i try using it myself to see just how bad it really is. i mostly just... play heavy? there’s really not much variation in heavy gameplay, sadly. the heavy update better bring some new weapons that do Gunslinger-level recontextualizations to the entire class.

engie: hoo boy, i change loadouts multiple times a match if i’m on my a-game. i generally use either the widowmaker or the frontier justice; the stock pistol or the short circuit; and a mix of the eureka effect, jag, stock wrench, and gunslinger. primarily the gunslinger, though, because i’m a battle engie all the way. i set up my teleporters and dispenser in places where i think they’d be the most useful but also most safe (since i don’t wanna babysit them too much), then i just go ham with my mini-sentry and my shotgun. when i was first learning what tf2 was back in like 2009, i thought engie was the most interesting class, and was certain i’d main him once i actually got to play. and when i did actually start playing at the beginning of 2012... Scout ended up being my main because i got used to his speed and couldn’t look back. but now that i’m starting to graduate from scout, i’m finding myself playing engie more and more. especially battle engie, since it lets me strike a balance between being a support class and a fighter class. i do still wanna improve with scout, though, especially since he’s got so much of my good shit

medic: blutsauger, quick-fix, and solemn vow. blutsauger because it’s the best weapon medic has, quick-fix because it’s the best at just straight-up healing, and solemn vow because... it’s funny. the Meta(TM) for Medic is crossbow-stock medigun-ubersaw, but i avoid the Medic Meta out of principle because it’s just so stacked. the ubersaw and crossbow are just too good and overused, it’s tiring. also, the Blutsauger/Quick-Fix combo is known sometimes as the “i don’t trust my team” loadout, and i definitely don’t trust a pub team very far, and pubs are mostly how i play so far. also sometimes i like going battle medic, and the quick-fix is good for taking a short break from battle medicking to heal someone, and the blutsauger and solemn vow are good for fighting.

sniper: stock rifle or classic, cozy camper or jarate, any melee really. the stock rifle is tried and true; the classic is gimmicky and weird but fun; the cozy camper provides a fairly basic buff you don’t really need to think about; the jarate is, well, the jarate; and none of sniper’s melees are really good. i don’t really like picking off heads from all the way in the back, so i prefer to be at medium-range on the battlefield. not too close, not too far. it’s more fun that way and i tend to perform better. SOMETIMES i’ll use the huntsman and just shoot peeps with arrows.

spy: diamondback or ambassador, stock knife, stock watch, stock sapper. the spy’s stock loadout is tried and true, so the only one i replace is the revolver; the diamondback is borderline op because it rewards you for just playing the class effectively, and the ambassador can be good for training your aim. i like to put on a disguise, sneak my way around the enemy team with a cloak, then do my mayhem. which is, i guess, the entire point of spy. but you know.

also, to clarify, when i talk about using a stock item, i probably actually mean a reskin. i have the C.A.P.P.E.R. instead of the stock pistol. i have a botkiller flamethrower and sticky launcher. i have the Ap-Sap instead of the stock sapper. the two major exceptions are the stock watch and stock knife, which i have no reskins of (yet).

[charlyoddsox27]

its 6am, i havent slept, im bored, so im posting a list of the mercs in order of whom i like the most and reasons why, because thats something i should do i guess?

here goes

(spoilers for the comics down below but either way i think im the only person on earth who has never read them before now)

~~~

~~1. Medic~~

reasons for being my favourite:

• fucking. look. at. him. 👌

• 'mad german doctor' is one of my favourite tropes and he is a pretty bang-on satirical depiction of it

• cute-ass german accent

• he has pet pidgeons hE LOVES HIS PIDGEON PALS THEY KEEP HIM COMPANY

• healers are the most respectable class imo and since Medic pretty much started it he's automatically the best, thats how it works right?

• he sold some random persons soul to satan in exchange for a ***ballpoint pen*** and can i just say, fucking mood??? (he is literally the "i'd sell you to satan for one cornchip" meme)

• "yes, Archimedes...I couldn't agree more." *shudders* b oi .. .

• so many more reasons to love this gross old doctor so little room in Tumblrs posts.

~~2. Spy~~

reasons for being my second favourite:

• cranky, done with everyones shit, just wants to be left alone, fucking mood

• he's a spy i mean c'mon. look at the swanky-ass suit, look at the class radiating from this asshole.

• he may be a dick but he has a soft side he's just too jaded to show it most of the time (see: Scouts death in the comics?? real tears. honestly wish they'd panned that out more.)

• masks are hot tbFH--

• he enjoys a nice glass of whisky by the fireplace and so do i (fun fact: france is the biggest importer of scottish whisky in the world so its a nice touch)

• shapeshifting is fucking cool are you serious like he can just. do that. what a legend

• "i have a cyanide pill in one of my molars, if i break it then spit some in your mouth before i die, we can avoid being tortured." *'heavy' bursts in to save them* "PFFTHBTHF--"

• "SEDUCE ME."

• arrogant frenchman is one of my other favourite tropes and this is the most arrogant frenchman ive ever seen

• he's the only fully sane Merc, maybe apart from Engie.

• people love to hate him bc he's an asshole but...come on. after working with all those other weirdos for years, you'd be pretty jaded too.

• as a gross shipper, he's the easiest and the most fun (imo) to ship with Medic (rip me)

~~3. Pyro~~

reasons for being my third favourite:

• would have tied with Soldier if it werent for that one picture of them in the comics holding a puppy over their head with the most adoring expression on their mask??? good Pyro. goodest Pyro.

• doesn't do much in the comics but makes up for it in pure charm. look at that soulless face and tell me you dont love it.

• ambiguous gender ambiguous gender amBIGUOUS GENDER AMBIGUOUS GENDER. she/he/they? trans? nb? whatever you headcanon, it'll never be confirmed so its literally up to your own imagination. fucking ace, Valve 👌👌👌

• likes to burn things. god damnit. they like to burn things, guys. but they enjoy it so much, you just cant hate them, you can only feel a sympathetic joy that this precious lunatic is having fun in their own little world.

• canonically mentally ill (schizoprenia? it could be hallucinogenic drugs but i like to think its schizophrenia.)

• pretty sure they burned a pair of pedophiles in the comics. at least i think thats what those panels were insinuating. "lets open an orphanage and have an endless supply of kids to--" sounds pretty red-flaggy to me tbh. plus they were the villains so, eh?

• bludgeoned a bear to death until its skull was pulp because it insulted their special interest. you go, Pyro.

• for a few bits in the comics they have a really cute family dynamic going on with other Mercs, Soldier for example."Miss Pauling, Pyros on my side of the car." "Miss Pauling, Pyro cut off my hand." fuckin' cuties.

• when they start putting on like 50 shirts to keep warm in the Russian mountains. chubby.

• a gas mask that can function as both badass, and completely adorable.

• just. everything about them. how could you not love them. they're not in the wrong, you are. stay away from my misunderstood child and let them burn things god damnit.

~~4. Soldier~~

look I'm sorry, I love Soldier and he was gonna be tied with Pyro but that fucking puppy drawing sold me.

• absolute gold every second he speaks. he could sneeze and i'll laugh.

• such a dumbass you cant get annoyed at him for it. like. just agree with him and move on. no point reasoning with a boulder. "haha! silly Miss Pauling, thinking theres different types of blood." Medic: "haha yes! indeed, silly."

• HUTTAH *NECK SNAP*

• i'm not American and even i can see how blatantly his character mocks stereotypical Patriotic Americans™. but its so dumb and laughable, its adorable.

• EVERYTHING ABOUT HIS RELATIONSHIP WITH ZHANNA IS A BLESSING. EVERYTHING.

• the first "meet the Mercs" video i ever saw was "meet the Soldier" so he holds a special place in my heart

• (preaches about experiencing the horrors of war; has never actually been to war. shh dont tell anyone though--) *neck gets snapped*

~~5. Demoman~~

• I'm Scottish. even though his accent is absolute garbage (no offense to the VA), any representation is very nice.

• Black AND Scottish?? i mean has a character like that even existed before TF2??? amazing example of representation right there. there are barely even any black people in Scotland, how did this happen. I love it. more of this, please.

• he's a drunk guy who blows shit up for shits and giggles and god I wish I could too, sounds like a miracle stress-reliever.

• his sassy black scottish mother. combining the stereotypical black mother with the stereotypical scottish mother is literally the best thing that ever happened.

• the bit in the comic where Medic explains that Demo can't remember what happened to his eye bc he scooped out part of his brain, and the look on Demo's face. just. the look.

• again, he's scottish, he's stereotypical, and he's awesome.

~~6. Sniper~~

• underrated

• piss jars. piss jars everywhere.

• "no dad, im not a crazed murdering lunatic, I'm an assassin. ...well one's a job and the other's mental sickness!!"

• "meet the Sniper" has kickass music

• ruffled gross old man who isn't actually old, he's just seen some SHIT

• actually given development in the comics + some really good scenes with Spy.

• so suave...so...handsome. handsome ruffled bushman. me like.

• he dies first in the comics but gets brought back and gets a cool-ass scar. and then he's just walking around naked everywhere for the rest of the comic. Medic, where the fuck did you put his clothes.

• isn't actually Australian. thats like one of the biggest twists in the comic. "no wonder i was never inhumanly strong and my chest hair didn't grow into the shape of Australia!!" Classic.

• says "bugger" a lot and i love that word

• he needs a hug, let me hug him. and give him a bath.

~~7. Heavy~~

I'm gonna be crucified for putting the big lad so low but i promise i dont dislike any of the Mercs. he'd be higher up but...ive never really liked big huge tank-men tbh :/

• loveable as fuck

• will murder you if you bully his puny little Medic

• i looove Russian accents omfg

• he like big gun. i can respect that.

• when Medic was killed and he went APESHIT on Classic!Heavy and I lost my fuckin' mind over that shit

• he probably has a soft spot for small cute animals. i love imagining him being swarmed by Medics flock of doves and petting them like "good bird...so many good bird..."

• actually smarter than people give him credit for???

• i really really wish his character was a lil more fleshed out but. that's just me. i love him but he doesn't have the same appeal to me as Medic or Spy.

• his entire relationship with Medic...ugh. yes. best friends and/or boyfriends. all good to me 👌

• he named his gun Sasha and that's adorable

~~8. Engineer~~

• gOD, FUCK, I REALLY WISH HE DID MORE IN THE COMICS. i barely know anything about his character. i like him a lot but...god, he...he doesn't...do.....anything.......

• he built a cool robot arm for himself and AI turrets and teleporter machines and guns that fire magic healing powers and immortality machines, in the 1960s. what. some kind of wizard fuckery is this.

• smoothest voice in the west

• "y'all"

~~9. Scout~~

oh god i really am gonna be crucified. i dont hate him i just. like him the least.

• shitboy

• reminds me of a shitty ex but also kinda relateable in a way

• some genuinely funny bits in the shorts.

• gross horny hetero teen boy with a god complex and serious daddy issues. also, he can't read. the "sex bom" tattoo on his chest will be an eternal testament to that. nice job, Spy. you raised him good.

~~~

hoo boy there we go theres all the boys, all the beautiful boys (and Scout) in order of how much i love them. if i made any errors in my info about the canon, feel free to send me death threats 💙 (no seriously tell me though, being a newbie is embarrassing)

so uh. yeah. that took two hours to write. its now 8am. im still bored lol. bye i guess.