#i really think engie could fix him

[honkshoo-zzz]

old man yaoi..,..,….

[miintsprigz]

Hi! I was wondering if I could ask for the Demo, Engie, and Heavy for the fear-punch prompt if that's okay. Thank you!

FINALLY WRITING THIS. I appreciate your patience so much, Anon. It means the world to me.

GN!Reader fear punching the Mercs, part 2

Characters: Demoman, Engineer, Heavy (Team Fortress 2)

Warnings: uh some stuff relating to anxiety/panic attacks, cuz fear response.

Part 1 can be found linked below!

Demo ⚔️

You finally had the base to yourself, or at least, you thought so. Everyone had been all up in arms lately, it was just exhausting. Having fixed a cup of your preferred hot drink, you went to walk back to your room.

A door suddenly opened loudly behind you, and with your free hand, you swung, not even registering what you were doing until your fist made contact.

“Hey—oof!”

Your mug clattered to the floor, breaking and spilling everywhere.

“Demo!?”

“…oh! Did I scare ya there? Sorry ‘bout that!” His eye caught the mess on the floor as you tried to catch your breath.

“…now, that won’t do—”

“Tav, lemme—”

“No, no; I scare you, you drop it, tis only fair that I clean up the mess—”

Stumbling over to the closet to grab a broom, mop, whatever else he might need—still a little hungover—Tavish got to taking care of it in no time. He worked with surprising efficiency.

“Now, we oughta replace that drink o’ yours.”

“…Tav, I’m sorry.”

“Wha? Whatever for?”

“…I punched you…” Your voice shook a bit. The guy had only just woken up, and you’d socked him in the face.

He seemed confused at first, then touched the side of his face that you’d struck tenderly, realizing.

“Ah…that ya did.”

“I’m sorry…”

“Oh no, no! That’s alright, luv. Sometimes ya just get spooked. Used to do it to me mum all the time.”

“Really?”

He smiled in a somewhat tired sort of way. “Yup. Ya’d think I’d be more careful, especially cuz she couldn’t see me, but I guess I sorta forgot m’self there.”

Demo gave you a pat on the back, gentler than the usual. “Sorry ‘bout that. I’ve definitely knocked a few lads on the floor m’self, so trust me, I get it.”

“Thanks, Demo.”

“O’course, mate!” Your hair was lightly ruffled, and you couldn’t help but chuckle. “Want me to help ya replace that drink though? Heh, maybe I’ll make one for me, too!”

“That might be good. Do you want some ice though?”

“…nah, nah I think I’m good.”

Engineer ⚙️

It had been such a long day. You were more exhausted than you’d thought you were capable of being.

So when you arrived back at home base, you basked in the peace and quiet and decided to kick back and read for a bit.

Hearing sudden rapid, thundering footsteps, however, your adrenaline skyrocketed again, and so when the “intruder” inevitably entered…your adrenaline did the work.

The Engineer bursted into the room, clearly quite excited about something he was working on.

“Ah, (Y/N), c’mon, I gotta show ya—agh!!”

Your eyes locked onto him, staring daggers in fright as he rubbed at his jaw, wincing.

“Now what in Sam Hill—oh. Oh no.”

Those wide, terrified eyes told him all he needed to know. He didn’t even realize how suddenly he’d come flying in…

“…oh, darlin’. I scared the daylights outta you…”

“A little…” Your voice came out as a squeak, and all at once, everything became all too much. Tears flooded your field of view.

“Honey, I’m so sorry…”

“I, I didn’t mean to hit you…”

“Shh shh shh, I know…I know, I’m okay… lemme just…”

Offering open arms to silently ask first, Engie wrapped you in a hug when you stepped closer, petting your hair softly. He didn’t say anything really, aside from the occasional coo of reassurance that it really was okay.

There was a slight sway to him as he held you, trying to soothe the sudden rush of anxiety he’d accidentally triggered.

You knew, but between the fright and the guilt you felt for socking him in the face like that when he was just excited about something…you couldn’t help but cry for a minute or two.

After a bit, he pulled back, looking almost as though he could cry himself.

“I’m…sorry about that. I wasn’t thinkin’. I know ya had a long day, I just…”

“You were just excited to show me something.” With one last sniffle, you smiled over at him. “It’s okay.”

“…would ya still wanna see? I get it if uh, you’d rather have some time alone…”

“No, no! I’d love to see…”

That warm smile returned to his face once again. “You promise you’re alright?”

“I promise, Dell.”

With a nod, he took your hand sweetly. “Well alrighty. I think you’ll really love this, (Y/N), I’ve been tinkerin’ with this new feature for weeks, and I think I finally got it down!”

Chuckling, you followed after him, feeling your frantic heart slowing once again as his fingers gave your hand a light squeeze.

Heavy 🥪

You are in the thick of it now—bombs flying all over, a hail of bullets seemingly around every corner.

Truthfully? It was too much. But you had no intention of letting the enemy team know that.

Although it seemed cowardly to you, you ducked behind a corner for a minute to just…exist uninterrupted for a moment.

Your overwhelming didn’t go unnoticed though. Help was on the way…but you were unfortunately not able to fully recognize it.

A tap on your shoulder sent the tension building in your mind over the edge. Your fist made contact with the stiff gray of Heavy’s protective vest.

“(Y/N)! Is only me! Do not be afraid. Am here to help you.” Thankfully, the person you’d struck was basically a brick house. He had hardly felt it. He didn’t look angry…actually, he seemed worried.

“Uh…Heavy?!” “Da, it is me.”

“Well. I punched a friend. Great…” Looking down at your hands as you went to pick your dropped weapon up, they were shaking.

“Hold one moment, (Y/N).”

One huge hand carefully cradled yours, holding it steady.

“All due respect, I am giant man. Is very hard to hurt me. So do not feel so bad, okay?”

You tried to breathe, and it caught in your throat. Carefully setting Sasha to the side for a moment, Heavy looked down at you. Even with the chaos nearby, his eyes were so soft when he looked at you.

“Take deep breath.”

You followed that direction as best as you could.

“Very good. Again?”

It got easier.

“Perfect. Battlefield can be scary place…I know that too. Is okay to be afraid.”

He gave you a quick hug—it seemed he really was full of surprises today. His hand practically covered your shoulder as he gave it a pat when you pulled apart again.

“You need minute? Heavy is here! Giant man is on your side, remember?”

Now that you thought about it, maybe you’d be a little more prepared if you had a minute or two to yourself. “…could I just take a second back here out of range? I know it’s kinda chicken of me—”

“Not at all, (Y/N)! What do you think I carry sandvich for! Even big strong man need break. Smaller strong one like you no different.”

To your surprise, he actually handed you half of the tasty treat in question.

“Here. Enjoy, eat, and do not worry.” Picking up his minigun, Misha gave you a determined smile. “Heavy and Sasha will crush anyone who move too close until you are ready.”

If you weren’t where you were right now, it honestly might have made you cry. “Thanks, Heavy.”

“Of course, (Y/N). You are very important to me, you know that?”

A bit of warmth rushed into your face as he gave you one last grin before walking back out from behind your little shelter to face the opposing team.

“That’s right, I AM BACK! YOU MAY NOW RUN AWAY! HAHAHAHAHA!”

You couldn’t help but chuckle as you took a bite of the sandwich and breathed easy, knowing nobody would get within range of you anytime soon.

Whew! I hope that was good, Anon. I had fun writing it. I’d love more Heavy, Demo, and Pyro requests! I don’t write for them much but they’re a lot of fun!

[jamisonwritestf2trash]

have you already done something like the mercs finding snow when they get up in the morning? if not that could be fun :D

Mercs Reaction To Finding Snow In The Morning!

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Hi :) I have not! And I'm more than happy to do so as I'm writing this during a very green Christmas this year, so I'll live vicariously through this headcanon :)

————————————————————

Demo is probably mildly excited, he enjoys the snow. Back in Scotland snow was much more regular, and he liked it enough. When he moved to the base he found himself missing the snow every so often. So when he first sees the snow he's pretty happy, probably has a dumb smile. Also! He and Soldier wrestle in the snow and both get sick </3

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Engie has never seen snow a day in his life. (I will die on this hill.) He never really expected it to snow on the base, he always assumed it would never get cold enough. But, he found himself feeling a bit happy at the sight of snow, something about it is just really nice to him. It's pretty and he likes it, he's not a huge fan of how cold it has to get for it to snow though.

————————————————————

Heavy is neutral. He grew up around snow, snow was both the bane of his existence and something that gave him his best childhood memories. So him waking up to find it is just another part of life. He really likes to watch the snow fall though.

————————————————————

Medic is not pleased. He likes snow well enough, it wasn't extremely common back in Germany and he always found it rather beautiful, but this man hates the cold. He gets cold so quickly and he stays cold for such a long time, he's genuinely always uncomfortable in the winter, so when he sees the snow, he wants to he happy but he's more upset at his impending discomfort. But on a positive note, hell find a way to fix this issue of his so he can enjoy the snow :)

————————————————————

Scout is so excited. This man loves snow, he loves winter, loves everything to do with it. It instantly reminds him of all the fun he used to have as a kid and he's immediately trying to drag the other mercs into playing in the snow, even if it's a light dusting, he's just like, so happy. He's immediately grinning like an idiot at the sight of the snow.

————————————————————

Sniper doesn't care, but he also thinks it's cool? Like okay, he'll look out of his van window and see some snow, and he'll just shrug and go back to whatever he was doing, but then he'll also think "That's actually so cool that nature does that." He's never really seen snow or felt any of the joy or hatred those who have grown up around snow have felt, so he can take it or leave it. Also, he's most likely to feel the cold before seeing the snow, he can feel the cold weather in his joints

————————————————————

Spy acts like he hates it more than he actually does. He'll bitch and moan for a good hour about how much he hates the snow, and how the cold is so awful and he just goes on and on, but on the inside he's actually really excited, he loves the snow, he loves the beauty of it, he even genuinely smiles when he sees the snow fall (if no one is around) but God forbid he admits he likes anything to the other mercs. He does genuinely not like the cold though, he has really bad circulation and it causes him a moderate amount of pain.

————————————————————

Soldier is so happy, next to Scout he's probably the merc that enjoys the snow the most. I think he just genuinely loves cold weather, no particularl reason, he just loves being cold. He does also like to sled and have a snowball war (fights are way too simple for him, obviously) so the second he sees snow he's probably waking up the entire base so they can experience the same excitement as him.

————————————————————

Pyro loves the snow, as odd as it might seem. It is a huge fan of building snowmen, and then melting them down, it's a little freak like that. But anyway, it also just likes having fun out in the snow with the team. So when it sees snow, it gets really excited and starts rushing outside as soon as possible to start having some winter fun.

————————————————————

How special, a headcanon for Christmas! I hope you like it! Thank you guys for being patient with me, it means a lot. I'm going to try and start writing more, call that a new years resolution. Anyways, Merry Christmas guys :)

[meiliarotten]

Team Fortress 2 Kinktober Time

Day 16: Distractions (Thigh Riding)

🔞MINORS DNI🔞

Pairings: Engineer x Fem!Reader

Summary: Engie gets too absorbed in his work and you decide to do something about it.

Tags: Thigh riding, teasing

Word Count: 1.4k

The Masterlist

“Engie?” Your voice seemed far too loud in the near silent halls of the base. Engineer had said he only needed a moment to finish up his work. It had been at least an hour since then, and you were beginning to worry. You made your way to his workshop. The light was still on, and an exasperated sigh escaped your lips.

“Overworking yourself again, I see,” you chided, crossing your arms as you entered the workshop. Engie was hunched over a blueprint, pencil in hand.

“I’m nearly done, sweetheart,” he didn’t even turn to look at you. “Give me a moment.”

“You said that an hour ago.”

“Did I?” He sounded tired, perhaps even exhausted, but also determined. That was concerning. You had enough experience to know that a determined Engineer was very difficult to convince. But it wasn’t impossible.

“Engie,” you hummed, dropping your voice into a much more seductive tone.

“Yeah darlin?” He still wouldn’t even turn to face you, but that was fine. It wasn’t the first time you had to fight with literal blueprints for his attention. You always came out on top.

“Aren’t you tired?” You asked, placing your hands on his shoulders and rubbing them in firm circles.

“Of course I am, but I have to get this finished- oh !” Engie stopped short when you increased the pressure of your little massage, easing the knots out of his shoulders. You wondered how long he had been sitting hunched over like this. “ Oh my, keep doin’ that, sweetheart.”

You smirked, working the heels of your hands harder into his muscles. Engie moaned as the tension was worked out of his back and shoulders. However, you knew that tension could be worked out in other ways as well, ways that would be pleasurable for both of you.

“Come to bed, please,” you said, pressing a kiss to his cheek and fluttering your eyelashes in a cliché attempt at seduction. Engie just sighed.

“I really need to get this done…” and to your great dismay, his eyes were once again fixed on those blueprints.

You frowned. Clearly, this was one of Engie’s more severe cases of workaholism. It seemed that more drastic measures would need to be taken to get him to relax. You had half a mind to crawl under that desk of his and suck him off, but that wouldn’t exactly give you any gratification. You had needs too, after all. You were left with no other choice. Engie needed to be teased into coming to bed with you, and that was when a plan began to form.

“Well, I guess I’ll leave you to your work,” you said, as you straddled one of Engie’s legs. “And you can leave me to mine.”

“Darlin’, just what do you think you're doin’?” He asked, finally turning to look at you, which you took as progress. His head was tilted to one side and he gave you a confused look. You found it adorable.

“Just taking care of things myself,” you said nonchalantly, as if you had just told him you were doing something as simple as going out for a coffee. You lifted your skirt, thankful that you had happened to wear a nightgown. It would make this much easier.

You sat down tentatively on Engie’s thigh, grinding slowly at first. You weren’t so much pleasuring yourself as much as you were focusing on giving Engie a good show, at least for now. He looked amused for a moment, and then, as if he wanted to prove himself, he ignored you, continuing to make marks on the blueprint in front of him that held no meaning to you. So, he was going to be stubborn? You could deal with that.

The lack of reaction just spurred you on, and you rode him a bit harder, moaning softly. That noise got his attention. You saw his eyes dart towards you, the edges of his mouth twitching upwards before becoming stone faced again. It wasn’t much, but it was something.

So you kept at it, rubbing yourself shamelessly against Engie, moaning even louder, watching as his focus gradually deteriorated. A blush had settled in his cheeks, and you smiled at the sight of him desperately trying to maintain his focus as you ruined yourself on his thigh.

“Oh dear, you’re looking a bit flushed,” you whispered, leaning into his ear and cupping one of his warm cheeks in your hand. “Are you sure you don’t want to come back to bed and get some rest?”

Engie actually scoffed at you when you said that. “As if I would be gettin’ any rest, even if I did go back to bed now,” he said, rolling his eyes.

He wasn’t wrong. But you didn’t exactly take kindly to being scoffed at. You stood up, and for a moment, Engie almost looked scared that you were going to leave. Then, your underwear dropped to the floor from beneath your nightgown. You stepped out of them carefully, positioning yourself again and grinning wickedly up at Engie, who now watched you with bated breath, just like you had wanted.

You grinded against him with newfound enthusiasm. At one point, he wrapped an arm around you, almost as if to keep you still. But it soon served the opposite purpose, becoming yet another thing to spur you onward. Engie stroked your back softly, and sent shivers up your body whenever his fingers brushed against your spine.

You ran a hand down his chest in return, gradually trailing lower. Over his stomach, along a hip and finally down to his groin. The erection you felt was impossible to miss.

“Oh god, darlin’” he moaned as you palmed at his cock through the clothing. You could have sworn you heard him whine when you moved your hand away.

While this has begun as a ploy to get Engie back in bed with you, you couldn’t deny that it felt quite good as well. You rocked on his leg, letting your clit find stimulation on the length of his thigh as you did so. You wanted to come so badly. The sight of Engie in front of you was quite intoxicating as well. Every rock of your body pressed your own thigh against his erection. He looked just about ready to snap, and it made you feel like you held power over him. You could just finish once, and then saunter back to your shared quarters and wait for the inevitable, when Engie would burst in and pounce on you, getting his payback for how you were teasing him now.

“Oh God, please sweetheart,” Engie begged, his hips twitching as if he was barely resisting the urge to buck against you.

“Oh? But I thought you were way too busy?” You said, smirking. You had to admit that it was a bit cruel, but the look on Engie’s face was priceless. He would be fine. He would have his gratification eventually, but he would have to come and get it himself.

As for you, you were getting quite close to experiencing that gratification for yourself. You rocked harder, your moans mingling with Engie’s until your orgasm finally overtook you. You arched back, almost toppling off Engie’s lap. Thankfully, his strong hand on your back supported you, keeping you from doing so. When you came down from your high, you were breathing hard, leaning against Engie, who was still quite unsatisfied.

You regained your composure quickly.

“Well, that was fun!” You said, smirking as you stood up, albeit on shaky legs. “I’ll leave you to your very important work now.”

“What? Now you hold on just a minute!” Engie didn’t get the chance to finish his sentence. You were at the door in mere moments, your only response being a coquettish smile before you exited. It was a clear invitation.

“I’ll be waiting back in your room whenever you finish those blueprints,” your final statement echoed in the workshop, or maybe it was only in Engie’s mind. His very unfocused, very frustrated, and very aroused mind.

With a sigh, he glanced down, only to see that your underwear was still on the floor where you had dropped them. He rolled his eyes, chuckling softly to himself. He should probably return them to you as quickly as possible. Besides, it wasn’t like he was going to get much work done now. He rolled up his blueprint, retrieved the garment from the floor, and paced down the hall towards his private quarters, all the while devising a multitude of ways that he could get you back for your little stunt. This was going to be fun.

[scoutsbabygirl]

"men don't cry." a scout x reader angst fanfic, although it focuses more on jeremy (and dell's friendship). if you think of engi as a dad/uncle then this will def pull at your heartstrings. reblogs, follows & likes are all appreciated!<3

"right? there's nothing too bad about me, right?" his voice was trembling and his face as red as a tomato. "right? i though i really was the best, city of champions, right? that means i'm a champion, right?" his pitch was erratic and high which was highly unusual for jeremy. he tried his hardest to make up for his fragile masculinity while having a slim and thin frame. the names he was called at school because of his look stuck with him well into his adulthood. his ego was being destroyed. he hoped in the back of his head that he was just misinterpreting the situation. he couldn't wrap his mind around it.

the scent of smoke.

the locked door.

slow ballad music erupting from the four walls.

the noises. which he just knew belonged to your larynx.

our of anger, he picked up one of the stuffed animals you had affectionally given to him during his birthday this past year and threw it at the wall, knocking down a framed photo of him and tavish piss-faced drunk at a bar for jeremy's 21st birthday. the clang of the dark oak frame caught him by surprise and brought him out of this delirious state driven by jealousy and anger. his eyes snapped back wide, stepping back without moving his feet a single inch. a soft sigh escaped his lips as his shoulders shrugged back into their original resting spot. he let out another exasperated sigh and laughed to himself with a crooked smile painting his lips half in embarrassment for his own little anxious mental breakdown and out of hatred for everything he heard just a few moments prior.

he was supposed to be the one on top of you causing you to make those angelic noises. not another man. he was well aware that you owed him nothing, nothing was official and there was nothing more of a friendship. he had never tried to officially approach nor court you, yet, someone else was lucky and ballsy enough to get there before he could even make the courage up to do so.

that thought caused him to pick the frame up and throw it against the wall, shattering the glass frame to pieces. the wooden frame caused a small dent in the wall that would be fixed easily with some dry wall or whatever trick dell knew. the notion that he

wasn't good enough

or that

someone else could hold you before he could even mutter the words of how much he admired you.

of course, he was a hormonal young man but nonetheless the love far outweighed the lust.

a gentle meek knock at the door caught him off guard and brought him back to his current reality. fear, instantly instilled into him as a wave-an ocean- a tsunami of anxiety washed over his broken mind. your voice tormented his soul and seeing your right now in his current state would bring him to his knees in sorrow and regret (for himself). he longed to have you run into his arms but he knew he wouldn't be strong enough to even look you in the eyes without the thought of you being underneath another man.

curiosity killed the cat and he opened the door. a small dell greeted him with a orange toolbox in hand with a caution tape sticker. his beard was a bit longer since jeremy had seen him last and it suited his face really well, something dell was proud of. jeremy regretted not buying him beard oils for christmas, oh, how he would've belly laughed while unwrapped the gift with a hand over his stomach.

"i heard a big crash! so i figured you were throwing baseballs in here again." the sentiment made a slight smile appear on the top left corner of jeremy lips. he was truly like a father to jeremy and the other mercs, a father that jeremy never had and he was starved to have the love of an older father figure. he was hungry for someone to listen to his problems, he was famished for someone to call "dad".

"well." jeremy sighed, stepping aware from the white door that was littered in small, medium and large dents, a myriad of black sharpie chicken scratch and cutout photos of his favourite players from the teams from back home.

"all that ruckus for that little bend?" his southern drawl was quite comforting for scout. he thought of being a much younger boy in the middle of boston with pops in his room looking at the damage he had done to the wall and the lecture he was about to receive. that stern talking to was never to come but rather he would receive a few heartwarming laughs and a joke or two about jeremy's "pitching technique".

"nothing a bit of drywall can't fix. but honestly, this ain't nothing. i reckon we just leave it." he turned back to jeremy with his back facing the wall now. "it ain't bad. it ain't nothing to worry about, son." dell adjusted his palms over the black handlebar of the toolbox just before patting scout on the back.

how he longed for this. to sit down with his father and talk about his issues. but men don't have emotions and men don't cry.

"dell, i think i heard y/n and tavish..." he drawled out. a sour taste in his mouth from his teammate's name. "fucking and it's really been bothering me. i got mad and threw the picture frame at the wall. that's what caused the damage to the wall and, uh, thats what you heard." jeremy managed to spit it out without stuttering or with any uncomfortable silence used as filler words.

both men became silent afterwards. scout, let out a sigh feeling self conscious of letting all of his emotions out and how emasculated he felt infront of another and much older man. he fell back onto his bed, the plush blankets enwrapping down on his open palms as he sat up.

"son. let me tell you a little something about manhood." the southerns spoke before joining scout on the open spot on the end of his bed.

[snowed-leopard]

I dont’t know if y’all are down for 1600 words of only slightly jargon filled and incredibly niche headcanons, but here we go?

The mercs go sailing! (And also boating / paddling in general. They deserve the options.)

(There’s a small glossary of terms, and reference photos of the boats I’m thinking about and mentioning at the end for your convenience. Please note I’m a pretty amateur sailor and I’ve prolly explained or typed something wrong) ((yes it got nerdy enough I felt a glossary was warranted, I’m sorry))

scout: Oh dear god this man is gonna be a mess until he gets it but when he does he goes ZOOMIN. put him in a sunfish or a racing boat, like a catamaran. first time he's on a steep heel he screams like a baby but when he realizes it means more speed he's totally down, hook him into that cat's trampoline straps and eat his sea spray, bitch. (He does not care that they are on a freshwater lake, it’s sea spray in his heart) he's a chronic capsizer in a sunfish though because he keeps overcorrecting when trying to catch all the wind he can. He is banned from the motorboats for reckless behavior and roughhousing enough to nearly send poor pyro and demo overboard. Gets sent up the mast on one of the bigger boats to fix a light on the top of the mast and nearly shits his pants despite being very assuredly safe.

heavy: he honestly would probably run the motor boats the most, but if there had been a chance for one of the really large sailing vessel (40-70ft) where he actually has room to move, he would be down. hes mostly just reading and fishing out beached or turtled mercs. occasionally drafted into helping scout unflip bc heavy actually weighs enough to leverage the daggerboard right, unlike scout, because he keeps filling his sail with water and making more effort to right the boat. He’d be a saint if he could work the 30 footers when they’re pulling the halyards to turn because he’d be able to pull those so well, is weary of the boom from his height

demo: he's chilling on a flat bottomed fishing boat napping and fishing for most of the day, but he periodically goes out in a canoe with sniper to catch some fish separate from the motor boat, and also mess around. his balance is just messed up enough that later in the day he can't really do any of the 20 foot boats and definitely not a sunfish, but if you catch him earlier in the day he'd probably manage a nice trip in a 20 footer. He gets a little rowdy on the big 30 foot and tries to swing around on the side stays while horsing around with scout and as the boat jerks, he totally falls. it was inevitable one of the men would do he just ended up the unlucky bastard to be the center of the man overboard drill

Engie: splits his time fishing on the motorboat and messing around with all the boats, he does a little of everything, he most of all likes the 20-30 footers because he can calculate out all the rope tensions and physical at play in the down moments between turns without having to worry too much. He does enjoy the quiet of being alone in the sunfish tho, the rest of the boys joke he just likes it because they’re the same size as him (small).

 thinks about how much speed he’d need to run them over with in said sunfish to make them quit. Barely refrains. He is incredibly interested in tinkering with the motors on all of the sailboats and motorboats to see how he could improve their efficiency. Refrains on basis of not wanting to kill them and wreck the boat

sniper: snipes is mostly kayaking around away from everyone's chaos to do some fishing and birdwatching, probably hops on the 20 footer with demo for chill times, hates the sunfish because he kept getting hit by the boom because he was too tall to bend under it when turning and couldn’t rig it higher up and medic got tired of coming back in and taking care of the head wounds. He is having a grand time when scout’s not harassing him in the sunfish. But he does get very accurate at using his paddle to splash scout. Comes in with the biggest haul of fish, crabs, prawns, and inexplicably, 3 turtles, a duck, and a righteously confused snapping turtle for everyone to grill up at the end of the day.

pyro: on the catamaran with scout zipping around. heard the boat had a trampoline, was sorely disappointed, but is bouncing on it anyways. does not like the sunfish because swimming in their suit isn't fun when they don’t anticipate it and they kept tipping before they got the hang of it. bizarrely good at tying the knots for the lines though, no one knows how they manage this though their gloves. got heavy to drive the motor boat really fast while they sit on the front and despite how rough it is (you slam up and down a little when you go really quick) they are hooting and hollering and having the time of their life. Nearly lost the sunhat they brought along and cried. Sniper has to dive down in the lake to retrieve it for them.

spy: this man absolutely used to competitively race, he yearns for his old racing boat back in france, gets over it by trying to teach the others the noble art of it, scout is the only one who tries and races and they get along oddly well once they get past scouts incessant ability to turtle sunfish. he's also on the 20 footer a lot because it reminds him of his old boat (he brings it up at every opportunity, very insufferable about it) he can absolutely do all of the fancy knot tricks that are a bitch and a half to master. Will rant about boat maintenance and design. Very Opinionated about what makes some boats ugly or beautiful. One of the only times he gets down and dirty is to maintain or repair the boats and their motors. He surprises engineer majorly with his knowledge.

medic: mostly likes the big 30 footer but does not mind going on the kayaks once or twice. gets a little wild with the helm (steering) commands, gets very dramatic with it. most likely to get sea sick to me, he also manages to scamper around rigging with far more grace than you would think. He is utterly enamoured with the various ways these boats can and have injured people though. He finds the interiors of the larger ones quite cozy and likes the design. The birds love following him around as he sails and stretching their wings, nestle back on him when they get tired. It gives him a fucked up pirate vibe with the chilling grin and bloody dove from sitting on snipers head on his shoulder.

soldier: oh goodness, have you ever wanted more naval trivia? because this man has all of it, correct and not. used overhand knots as stopper knots on the sails (derogatory) and gave spy a conniption because of it. he's lookout on the bigger boats because he wanted to "command the largest of their naval fleet" he has an impressive ability to know the wind and gauge its changes and how to keep the right point of sail (how your sails are set up) he's very "old eccentric sailing guy" to me. He is a beast at charting and piloting (positive) and can do dead reckoning math (slightly complex little bit of locational determination based on what’s around you at what angle and speed) with surprising ease. Excellent at doing knots, uses them wrong. (He’s doing that part intentionally to give spy grief. Whoever said solly couldn’t have a little fun?)

sunfish, little 1-2 people boat, about 14 feet long, very nimble, but flip (and luckily unflip) easily. Need lower wind speeds because itty bitty (not my personal fave to sail, but incredibly popular still, they’re not bad I just prefer larger less flippy boats)

catamaran: two hulled boat, used a lot for racing, has a web like a trampoline stretched between them, with straps sewn on so you can slide your feet under to not fall, or clip yourself right onto one of the side stays. 1-3 people ish (incredibly fun to sail, seem like they’re slow until they grab the wind right then you’re gone. I know a dude with a hilarious custom sail for his)

20 footer: general term im using for all the medium sized 2-6 person sailboats of abt this length (this specifically I’m showing here is a Chrysler buccaneer 18! IRL I’m working to repair one currently)

30 footer: like above, but these are up to maybe 8 or more people, minimum of 4 ish though for the sake of control in my very non expert opinion (what I’m specifically showing here is a tartan 30, which I also routinely sail! Ours is a piece of shit with a busted internal motor so we bolted a comparatively tiny one to the back. and I lover her anyways, we call her water rat even though that is most definitely not her name)

heel: when you’re boats at an angle in the water relative to the water, how flat or angled you are, having this is good! It means you’re catching a lot of wind and less boat in the water means less drag (you can see it in the catamaran pic)


daggerboard: a removable board in small boats like sunfish, (exists in other forms in larger boats) that points straight down and keeps the boat moving in a straight line, it pokes out the bottom and when you flip you pull down on this with all your (and your partner’s if you have one) weight to right your boat again. Do it fast or your sail will fill with water like a scoop and make it harder.


sidestay: mostly on 20 ish and up size boats, part of the system of metal cables that put tension on your mast to keep it pointed up straight, one of the things u can hold on (never hold onto rope) on a boat for stability part from handles and safety lines


boom: the metal pole running parallel to the deck of the boat at the bottom of the main sail, it's called a boom because when you turn, and it swings to the other side of the boat with the sail, and if your head is in the way well… it sounds like boom. Gives concussions even on sunfish, the power of metal tuning, and speed.


halyards: the lines you pull on the big boats when turning, have enough tension that they need winches to tighten and take in often times

[kellanved-ammanas]

TF2 Drabbles: RED Engie/BLU Spy - I Want To

Summary: It would be nice for someone on RED to strike up an awkward friendship with the Spy head. Shippy or not, I think it'd be a good(?) time. The man is miserable let him have something.

~

Finding out why the BLU Spy was missing from the battlefield had been an accident. Engie had just happened to wonder in at the right time to catch Medic in a rush to put something back in his fridge that he clearly didn’t want Engie to see. Engie was more than smart enough to pretend he hadn’t noticed anything, coming back later to check.

His first instinct had been to put a stop to the experiment. But getting on Medic’s bad side was unwise. And after how long he’d been missing for he likely was marked as permanently dead or AWOL, either of which might have gotten him removed from BLU Respawn’s data base. Engie couldn’t exactly waltz over there and check or do anything to fix that should it be a thing while the whole rest of the BLU team was present. So he bided his time.

He did what he could to make Spy’s life more bearable; taking him out of the fridge to talk to him and give him cigarettes. It probably didn’t help as much as he would’ve liked given that he could only come in when Medic was away, so mostly at night. But he finally had stopped asking Engie to kill him so perhaps they were getting somewhere… or he had just given up.

Either way Engie was glad not to hear a request for death upon opening the fridge. Instead Spy said a halfhearted, “Howdy,” in imitation of him. He looked about as tired as one would expect. Hopefully soon though that would change.

“Howdy,” Engie returned with as much cheer as he could muster as he reached in to grasp the device at the base of his neck that kept him alive. Pulling him out he placed him on the nearby table. It’d be nice to bring him back to the workshop but he only dared do so when Medic was all the way away from the base which he currently wasn’t.

Engie pulled out his pack of cigarettes. After putting one in Spy’s mouth he lit it before pulling one out for himself. He couldn’t lie to himself anymore, the fancy expensive ones were indeed much better than the kind he used to buy before Spy had started insisting he get better ones.

As they smoked Engie caught him up on the goings on of RED and what he knew of BLU. Such had become their routine and thus there wasn’t much new to report so he added in what he’d read in the Tuefort Times he’d read a couple days ago too. Not that that was very interesting but it certainly had to be better than the inside of Medic’s fridge.

Eventually their cigarettes burnt to nubs. Engie snuffed them out in the ash tray he’d brought. Always he was careful to never leave any trace of himself behind. When he was done he looked back up at Spy. “So, the holidays are coming up soon. Meaning both teams will be getting off soon to head home. Medic say what his plans are for ya?” Another reason Engie couldn’t easily do anything about the situation was because Spy’s device needed to be routinely refilled with whatever liquid ran it or he’d die.

“He’s hooking me up to a new device of his that’s supposed to not need refilling as often. I suspect I’ll die.”

“He’s leaving you here?”

“Yes.”

“Perfect.” Exactly what Engie had been hoping for.

“Yes, wonderful. I’ll die alone in a fridge when the healing beam inevitably fails or runs out of juice halfway through the holiday season. Perhaps if I’m really lucky, I’ll last until Christmas. Wouldn’t that be nice?”

Engie wasn’t always the best at picking up on sarcasm but that certainly had to be what Spy’s tone was dripping with. And who could blame him? Not wanting him to get his hopes up too high if Engie couldn’t deliver anything, he hadn’t told him any of his ideas for solving this dilemma. Now was probably a good time to.

“Nah, if he’s gone and the rest of your team’s gone, I can head over to your base to try to make make sure you’re still registered in Respawn or put you back in if you’ve been booted from it for being gone so long, and that you’ll come back whole if you are. Or if I ensure of that, I’ve been…”

“I never considered I might not Respawn,” Spy interrupted. “I just assumed you weren’t killing me because you didn’t wish to anger Medic.”

“Well that too but mostly the former. I can handle Medic if I gotta. But anyway if I can’t be sure Respawn’ll grab you, I’ve been working on a robot body to attach your head too. I need to be able to bring it in for some tests and I’ll have to figure out what the device keeping you alive runs on and figure out how to replicate it. Which I’ve also already begun work on.”

“Why are you suddenly going to so much trouble for me?”

“‘Cause I want to.” Engie never would’ve thought he’d go through so much trouble for someone technically his enemy either but he wasn’t going to tolerate this. Science was wonderful and he’d go to great lengths for it, including hurting and killing folk, but there came a point where it wasn’t for science anymore but just to be cruel. Medic had crossed that line here and so something needed to be done about it.

And once the possible ideas on what he could do about it had started occurring to Engie, he’d been too enamored with them to let them go. When looking at BLU Respawn he’d get to learn more about it without risking his own death safety net. Figuring out how to build a robot body was just a plain cool. And the healing juice no doubt had some interesting potential as well. Like he could add it to his dispenser so it could heal as well as give ammo.

Thus there was a lot in this for him as well but yes, his primary motivator was Spy. Somehow during these clandestine meetings he’d grown to enjoy his company. Whether that would remain to be the case once Spy had a body back remained to be seen. But right now Engie was determined to get them there, hopefully indeed over the holiday break.

[rosainta]

Day 2 of Rosain Quivan’s Daily Logs

Started December 7, 2023 at 10:00PM, Home

Finished December 8, 2023 at 10:42PM, Home

Log #2

Author's Notes:

I started this yesterday from a sudden shower inspiration thought. Who would’ve known that the most bizarre of ideas could be generated while cleansing yourself?

Anyway, this idea is just pure dialogue between Sniper and Scout from Team Fortress 2. No romance implied, but you could interpret it that way. I'll be completely honest with you- I'm very adamant when it comes to accurately representing their relationship, whether it be in a canon-compliant friendship / coworker way or in a romantic setting (specifically the latter, since I have to admit that I am an intense Speeding Bullet fan, though of course I love any other old depiction of the two, as well as other ships as long as they are respectfully expressed). Though this adamant demeanor towards accuracy helps me find out what I like to see in works including these two goofballs, I'm not entirely sure if I can transform those standards into my own writing... since I've never tried it yet! So, take this as another practice round, this time more centred on character depiction and dialogue (that, hopefully, doesn't sound like a cringey 15-year-old's WattPad fanfiction...)

Warning: a few colourful words here and there.

If you want a part 2 for this, let me know down below! I'll be happy to write anything, though. And also, if you have any feedback, please let me know! I strongly appreciate it :-)

Title: Intention. Fandom: Team Fortress 2 Third-person objective New Mexico, Badlands, Badwater Basin, (fixed the order; that was bugging me last time), RED Sniper's Campervan Around 3:15AM, sometime during the Gravel War

“Snipes... Snipes, you awake?”

A long pause. Then, the sound of dog chains jingling. A bed creaks violently.

“Sniper, get up, you gotta help me here!”

A low grunt, a shift in the covers.

“Ngh… can’t this wait? It's..."

A shift in the sheets, someone leaning to squint towards a clock.

"Crikey, half past three?! What in God's name do you think you're doing?"

"Trying to wake your sleepy ass up, stupid!"

A loud groan. Possibly the sound someone rubbing their temples together.

"Did you know that the average human being needs shut-eye to survive? Ain't that wild? Or perhaps you didn't come along to learnin' that at kindie yet?"

"Oh, just... just shut up and help me out, will ya? Look, I'm sorry it's so late, but this is really, really urgent, okay? And this concerns more than just the both of us, but you were the closest person I could find, so I need you here. I promise, I'll be outta your hair after all this."

A sigh.

"... if this is an emergency with the sheila again, go ask Spy. I'm sure he'll be 'appy to see your squirmy little arse again."

"Hah! Yeah, as if. He's probably out screwin' the Eiffel tower or somethin'; wouldn't wanna see, much less hear that, though I can only imagine the snorting sound he'll make when he- argh, anyway, that's besides the point! Point is, it's not about Miss P, it's about..."

A pause.

"...it's about what? Who?"

"Well, it's about Engie..."

Another pause.

"...and? Come on, Scout, get to the point, or I'm going back to sleep."

"Okay, okay! Well, I don't exactly know how to put this, but I think- or at least I have a feelin'- that he might, maybe, possibly, be workin' ... for BLU."

The bed creaks again.

"What, you think we got an enemy Spy in the base?"

"No, it's not that. He passed the security check earlier, because I was on rounds for that today. I think that our Engie, like the real one, well, I think he's double-crossin' us or somethin'."

"And why do ya' think?"

"Well, this afternoon, near the intel room, I was sorting my comics out when I saw him doin' this thing, where he would be all suspicious lookin' and shifty-eyed, then he'd pull out one of those 'computah' things, or whatever they're called, and start typin' really fast, like he was in a rush or something. Then, whenever someone passed him, he'd shut the screen down really quickly like this-"

A clap.

"- and would look at the person with a goofy little grin, as if he wasn't just sendin' some, I don't know, ransom photos of someone's wife a few seconds ago. He even had the audacity to wave to Pyro when it walked by, and I think even it found it a bit weird 'cuz it made this strange garbly noise I've never heard it make before. But anyway, he'd open it again and do the same thing over and over again until it was lights out. It was so suspicious. I didn't say anything then, 'cuz, you know, I didn't want him to know I was staring at him like a creep or somethin-"

"Which you are."

"Whatever, now, get this-"

A dramatic pause. Two hands are slapped on someone's shoulders.

"I go back to my room, and you know how his is right next to mine?Well, I wait outside the door, and I'm about to say 'good night' or something like that and maybe sneak in a question about his secret porn addiction, but... he doesn't go to his room. No, he turns the corner, goes out... and starts headin' in the direction of BLU's base."

Silence for a moment.

"You sure he wasn't just, you know, heading out for a hookup or somethin'? I hear a lot of people south-east go troppo for one-night-stands."

A slight shaking movement from the hands to someone's shoulders, dog chains jingling.

"Argh, Snipes, freakin' please?! I'm bein' serious here. He doesn't usually do that, I'd know because every night he plays those cheesy old cowboy country songs on his radio and goes to sleep, which keeps me up all night because I can hear it through the freakin' wall. And don't you think it's a bit strange how he was reacting when he was on the 'puter? No one would do that, even if it's for a hot night out."

A hand grips one of the latter's on someone's shoulder, as if to push it off.

"Well, maybe for bogans like you, who don't have the slightest bit of public decency when it comes to flirtin' with any skirt you see. And what right do you have stickin' your nose in his business? He could have as well been headin' back to Teufort to buy some quick supplies for his sentries, or hell, maybe even just going to see The Admin."

"Well, actually..."

The hands slide off the shoulders.

"I may have trailed him a bit. You know, just outta curiosity."

"You- you followed him? In the middle of the night?"

"Look, man, I had to do what I had to do to make sure that I wasn't going to have my head end up in someone's refrigerator the next day."

"But you do realize that you were being just as suspicious, more so really, as he was by trailing him?"

"Well, yeah, but- okay, look, that don't matter now, alright? What matters now, is that I found out where he was going. And it was the BLU base, I saw him sneaking in without gettin' shot by a sentry or a look-out, but I couldn't stay for long since they woulda caught me instead. But luckily, his little visit wasn't without a little proof. Check what I found-"

Knuckles slide against firm wood as someone picks up a small metallic object from a nearby dresser, holding it in front of them.

"This."

Someone snatches the object, clicks on a lamp, and observes it intently. A sleepy yawn.

"What is it?"

"I think it's called a U.S. Bee, or something? I don't remember what he called it, but he told me it's like a little key you put inside the compooter and it stores, like, info and crap. I don't know, something nerdy that only he and Medic would understand."

"Hm.... An' how do you know it's his?"

An impatient whine.

"I don't know why you're being so skeptic and shit about this, Snipes, I literally told you the story and brought a goddamn piece of useful evidence! Do you still not trust me? What more do you want from me here? A picture of his ass in blue?! Wait a sec- hold on- are you freakin' workin' with him?!"

A quiet sigh, someone shaking their head.

"Alright, mate, I'm sorry, okay? Veg out, now. No, I'm not workin' with 'im, and I do trust you, I really do. It's just that... I find it hard to believe that Engineer of all people, a man with whom we've been working with for 4 years now, would all of a sudden head up and go against his entire team like that, especially in such a dangerous manner when he knows that someone else could be, you know, spyin' on him."

"I wasn't spyin' on him, I was just-"

"You said yourself it don't matter, so it don't. What I'm saying here is that we don't know his intentions here. For all we know, he could be using his little device of his to gather intel on the other team, or he could be, I don't know, doing a secret contract or something. I just feel that it's unfair that we rush to conclusions like that, especially for one of our coworkers who may really be doing us a service, mate."

Quiet for a bit.

"You alright there?"

"No, I- I get it... I just, I just really feel like I found out something critical, you know? Like, it's not everyday you see one of the team be so secretive like that, well, except I guess Spy."

"Well, we all have our own secrets, don't we?"

"Yeah, I guess so."

Quiet. A few gentle pats on the back.

"But... wouldn't it be a good idea to try and find out what that thing, like, has? I mean, you know, just to prove that Engie really didn't have any bad intentions?"

"Yes, but that would be quite a breach, no? He'll most likely be looking for it in the mornin' and if he finds out you were givin' his equipment an unauthorised burl, well, say g'day to your dispenser privileges for the month."

"Well, what if I did it now, while he's still away?"

A pause.

"That's risky."

"I'll be fine."

"Alright, you do you. But how would you know where to start? And if you did get it to work, understanding what you're seeing is another question entirely."

"Hmm..."

Someone rubs their finger over their chin, pondering.

"Oh, I know! Medic, he'll know. Those two dweebs spend so much time doin' those experiments together, I don't doubt he'll know what the heck to do with this. Plus, man probably never sleeps, so it's basically 24/7 with him."

"Okay. Well, chookas with that, mate. I'm heading back to nap. G'night now."

The sheets shift for a moment, before an arm reaches out to stop them.

"Ah, um- thanks, pally. For listenin' and all. I know you don't really believe me or anythin' but, uh, I'm glad you didn't doze off halfway through."

"No worries."

"Yeah."

A pause.

"So, ehm, I'm gonna do that now."

"Oh, yeah, right, I'll head out now. Night, Snipes."

"G'night."

The light clicks out, and a figure scurries away into the night. Then, a sudden shift.

"Wait a minute, how did you get inside?"

Credits: Team Fortress 2 by Valve Image source: Team Fortress 2 Written by Rosain Quivan Cross posted on Amino ( Rosain Quivan )

[some-pers0n]

Happy New Year!!

Fandom: TF2

Characters: Engineer, Medic

CW: Drinking. A lot of drinking.

Summary: It's New Years Eve and the pair decided to go out for a drink or two. Thirteen hours later and with the other mercs joining in as well, they're still at the bar. It's fun, definitely, but Engie can't help but feel something a bit...off when looking at Medic.

Word Count: 2.7k

A/N: Violently sobbing and pounding my fist against the ground. I finally got to the part of my fic where this stupid chapter/scene happens. This has been rotting in my brain since December. Anyways, this is an excerpt from the most recent chapter of my longfic. You don't need to read it to understand anything. Enjoy.

Engie watched in awe as Medic pounded back his twenty-second glass of beer. By god it was impressive.

They'd been in here for a long while now. How long? To Engie, maybe an hour. But, he knew damn well it's been longer than that. He can see the light outside, or more accurately the lack thereof. They'd gotten here at ten and now it's deep into the night. He'd look at a clock, but things were rather hazy and hard to read now.

He wiped the residue from his lips. "Yet another one down, haha!!" he yelled. A quirky thing with him was how he lost any and all control of his voice the minute he got slightly intoxicated. Doesn't matter. The music's loud and Engie couldn't care less. The hangover and hearing loss was a problem for tomorrow.

Tonight? Why not have some fun? Relax. Kick his feet back and enjoy. He deserves it after all that nonsense back at the base. A nice full day out at the bar, bleeding the owner out of all of their supply.

Engie clapped in response. "Hell yeah! Number twenty-two! Think you could go fer another one?"

Medic bubbly giggled. His cheeks were rosy red and his face was fixed into a permanent smile. He looked so goddamn happy. Watching him was an experience all of itself, one that was elevated when the both of you are several drinks deep. Seeing him laugh like that made everything feel less important. Like the only thing that mattered was being with him.

...what the hell was that line of thought? It's what he was experiencing, definitely, but it was strange to think like that. That intense. Feelings. Hah. That's not what he should be thinking about right now. That just made things more confusing.

By the time the Engineer recollected himself, he noticed that Medic was rambling again. In German. He was going a mile a minute. Whatever he was saying was completely lost on Engie. He could barely understand English right now, much less this. The words slurred together into a homogenous slush of vowels and sharply pronounced consonants.

"Uh, doc? Doc?" He snapped his fingers a couple times.

"Und das ist der Grund– hm? Ja?"

"You're back in German mode again. I'd love to know what you're saying."

Medic clasped his mouth, feeling around. "Was I really?" he chuckled. His accent was more obvious than ever, though Engie didn't care. If anything, it was cute.

Engie joined in. "I'll drink to that." He raised his hand once more. "Jessie?"

"Another round?..." the bartender replied, a moderate amount of fear in his voice. "I've already served your booth over forty drinks–"

"Enough chat! I wish to see if I can beat my record time now." Medic rubbed his hands energetically. "Will you join me?"

He shrugged. "Why the hell not?"

Moments later, Jessie brought them more drinks. "Lovely night, I know, but I was wondering when you would both pay off your tab."

"Both? What about Py– Pyro?" Engie turned to see that they weren't there. Completely absent. Now that he thought about it, he couldn't remember seeing or hearing Pyro for a long while. Where'd he slip off to?

"Ahem, that's beside the point. It's getting close to midnight and I'm going to close up as soon as it happens."

Medic spat a little back into his drink. "Mh? What? You're going to kick us out?! What for? We are res– hic– responsible, you dummkopf!"

Jessie motioned to the rest of the bar. Engie saw that the place was trashed. Slashes and rips in the other booths. The floor was covered with beer and whiskey. A far cry from the clean and inviting atmosphere it once was hours earlier. The other mercenaries were loudly drinking and conversing, with the only one by himself being the Demoman at the piano. He was playing along with the jukebox, adding onto the keyboard section of whatever songs came on. It was a lovely addition if the Engineer was to be honest.

"I see nothing wrong with it," Engie said.

"It's been like this for thirteen hours. None of you have given me any money. Other patrons tried coming in only to be driven out."

"Sounds like their issue. Sorry that we can't help it." He shrugged. Medic snickered in response.

Jessie glared. "I'll have you know that I have been running this bar for–" He stopped to count on his fingers– "six years! I have a family to feed. It consists of me and only me. I'll have you know that I work very hard to get the right amount of lead and radiation in my brew–"

"Oh mein Gott!" Medic yelled, a wide smile on his face. "I love this song."

Engie raised his head to the radio, recognizing the tune instantly. Scout constantly played record after record from Tom Jones. It would be humiliating to not remember that snappy beat and trumpets from that song. "It's Not Unusual" was a neat little jig that he quite liked himself, though Medic seemed far more into it.

"I was talking–"

"Raus, schweinhunde." Medic pushed Jessie out of the way, getting up and over to the dance floor.

"What the hell's that idiot gonna do now?" Engie gave a light-hearted chuckle. He watched expectingly as his partner stood in the middle of it and began to snap along to the beat. He tapped his foot and began to sway back and forth.

He was dancing. He was imitating the signature Tom Jones moves. Pretty damn good as well, especially considering he's had over twenty lead-filled glasses of beer. He moved with grace, but also with enough of his own weirdness and off-beat charm. His own spin on this dance move. Engie sat there in constant silence, observing him.

Then, Medic looked back up. Eye contact. A flash in his eyes appeared for just long enough for Engie to know what he was about to do. Before he could get a word out, he spoke.

"Don't just sit there! Dance with me!"

"Oh, I dunno about that–"

"It'll be fun! Trust me." Medic approached him, holding out his hand. Engineer stared at it for a moment, considering his options.

Well, what's the worst that can happen? He grabbed it, instantly being yanked from the booth. He was dragged along to the floor, with Medic holding up both of his hands.

Engie was no stranger to dancing, especially with another person. One helluva dancer back in his university days. Could impress a whole group of girls (or boys for that matter) with his moves.

But, with Medic, it was a whole other beast. It was as though he'd been lobotomized. Any previous skill and technique he may have learned were just completely erased. At the mercy of whatever his partner had in store for him.

He stepped back, then to the left, back to the right two times. Engie followed along, slowly getting the hang of things. Didn't help that he was half a foot shorter, but he had fun regardless. It was a dance. It's not supposed to be proper and practical.

It must have gone on for a minute of this. "Ohoho! How exciting," he hummed as he repositioned his hand around his back, dipping the Engineer.

"Where the hell you learn to dance?" he asked, a coy smirk on his face.

He shrugged. "Nowhere! First time with a partner." Medic pulled him back right up, twisting him and then spinning him away. "That's what makes it fun, no?" he continued, doing his little dance now. He shook from side to side, shaking his arms in time.

Engie followed after him, doing similar upbeat and energetic moves. God, it knocked the wind out of him quite a bit, but he couldn't care. It was beyond magical. The sheer joy and happiness radiating from the two of them was unmatched. From the extra bit of piano from Demoman to the fact only they were dancing. It was a perfect moment.

Yet, as he looked at his partner, he couldn't help but feel something else. An odd twisting in his stomach. Could be from the beer, but usually they don't ache like this. It was a warm sensation, one that only grew more intense the longer he looked.

There was something off about himself, yet he couldn't quite rationalize what it may be. All he knew was that he was delighted to be around Medic.

Soon enough, the song ended, fading out. The radio host came back on. "Alright, folks, that was Tom Jones. Now, I haven't gotten a song up for you peppercats quite yet, but I'll have you know that right now it's approximately– hold on, lemme check my clock– fifteen seconds until midnight."

Medic straightened out, alert. "Mein Gott! I nearly forgot about the new year. Come, come, quickly! Raus! Everyone, together!" He grabbed Engineer by the side, pulling him closer. "Ten! Nine!"

The other mercs joined in, rushing over. "Eight! Seven! Six!"

They all looked towards the radio, huddled together. "Five! Four! Three! Two!... One!" Then, a jumbled cry of cheer saying, "HAPPY NEW YEAR!!"

The group began to clap. Soldier sang Auld Lang Syne along with the Demoman. Others clicked their drinks together. Engineer didn't have anything with him, but he had an idea. He fidgeted with his Gunslinger, switching the ring finger into a blowtorch. A warm blue flame erupted from the fingertips. He waved it around like a makeshift sparkler.

But, as he did so, some stray drops of whiskey and liquor from the other mercenaries' drinks flew at him, passing right through the fire. Without warning, they caught aflame. Mere seconds later, the burning spirit fell to the floor, spreading to the rest of the spilled drink. A fire started right before them.

On second thought, maybe the blowtorch wasn't that great of an idea.

"Oh, fire," Medic said absent-mindedly.

"Huh, that's new," Engie muttered. He wheezed, unable to control his laughter.

"Guess that's the cue to leave, ain't it?" Demo looked to the rest of them.

"I do believe yes. The fire has already spread to the whole bar. I argue this place has five minutes before it begins to care in. I'd rather not die here," Spy added, pressing a cigarette to his lips.

"Ight, let's book it." The Engineer shrugged. They turned around, Medic still clinging to his side. The burning inferno was the least of his worries as of now. He couldn't care less about it or the panicked screams and obscenities thrown at them by Jessie. I mean, it's just a bar. It burning down is nothing that bad.

"Did you do that?" Medic asked. Engineer noticed his weight becoming heavier, as he acted more like a crutch to Medic than anything else. His partner leaned on him, nearly tripping over his own feet as they stepped over the flaming puddles of beer.

"Think so."

He giggled. "Now we're talking!" They both exited the bar, walking into the parking lot. "Come on, Herr Engineer, do we have to go back to the base? Can't we just stay out? It's been forever since we've kidnapped somebody..." Medic's words were slurred and hard to hear.

"We've already been drinking for ages now, doc. Kinda just wanna go back home."

"Oh please! When has th– hic– that ever stopped anybody?"

"Christ, just how drunk are you?"

"I want to put myself in critical condition and barely still alive just so I can go to heaven and see God and spit in his face... Wouldn't that be funny?"

"...that answers that question." Engie was practically carrying Medic now. He was putting every bit of energy to keep him upright and from falling over.

Eventually, they came back to the car. Engie reached for his keys and tried the door, only to then see it rolled down out of nowhere. It gave him quite a fright, but he calmed down upon seeing who was in the driver's seat.

Pyro stared back at them, cocking his head to the side.

"Oh hey, smokes!" Engie grinned. "What are you doin' in here?"

Pyro covered his ears. "Mhh mhmn."

"Too loud? Can't blame you. God, I can already tell my ears are gonna be ringing like nothing else tomorrow."

"Who are you talking to?" Medic muttered. "Oh, hello, Herr Pyro." He waved. Pyro waved back.

"You mind drivin' us? I don't think I can walk straight, much less drive."

Pyro nodded repeatedly. He unlocked the back door, letting them in. Engie opened up the door and slid Medic off and guided him into the seat. "C'mon, it ain't that hard to sit down."

Eventually, Medic slipped into the car. Engie was about to close the door, only for Medic to tug on his arm. "Wait, don't leave me..."

Engineer paused. "What?"

He smiled back. Medic's eyes were cloudy and tired, yet full of life and joy. The toothy grin he gave was heartwarming in every way possible. A beam of light in the darkness of night.

"...oh, alright. I'll stay in the back with ya." Engie got into the back seat, closing the door. "Let's go, Pyro. Back to the base." He tapped on the headrest. Immediately, Pyro shifted it into reverse, jerking the car back before then driving off.

"Woa– oah!" Medic stumbled, recovering from such movement. He snickered and laughed. "Mein Gott, I'm so drunk right now..."

"I know, I know," Engie said calmly and relaxed. "Once we get home, I'm going to bed."

"No afterparty? Nothing?"

"Nah... I already have enough today." He glanced back at Medic. "Thanks for doing this. I really needed some time out."

"Mh? Oh, that was nothing, hehe." He waved his hand dismissively.

Engie felt his stomach tighten into a knot while looking at him. He still didn't understand what he was feeling. This was odd. He knew he'd experienced this sort of thing before, but couldn't remember where or how. It was pleasant though. Through all of this confusion, he knew that this was a good feeling.

The car ride grew silent. The calming droning noise of the engine humming while the wind blew by put Engie at ease. Some peace and quiet after all of that chaos at the bar. A little time to sit and think.

Issue was that thinking hurts to do. His head ached and his throat burned. His ears stung and his stomach churned. He was going to have to deal with the hangover of a lifetime in a bit. Sounds thrilling.

Yet, he couldn't care about that enough. He was still preoccupied with this strange feeling towards Medic. It wasn't just tonight that it happened. He recalled several times before when something like this bubbled up within him. This giddiness from being near him. This want to stay with him. What was it? What...what is it–

Right in the middle of his train of thought, Engie felt Medic lean against him. He looked back to see that his eyes were closed. Moments later, he was snoring and his neck rolled to the side. His head rested on him.

He was so close. So near to him. So warm. So cozy. It was right to be with him.

That's when it hit him. It was as though he sobered up in three seconds as the realization hit him. All it took was for his partner to sleep on him for him to finally get what he was feeling for that fog of confusion to clear up.

This was something different than being friends. Something that Engie had not felt for another person in a number of years.

Looked at Medic. He was so peaceful and cute. The way his glasses were slightly askew and his breathing was slow and relaxing. He could even feel the faint thumping of his heart.

Engie slid his right hand behind Medic, bringing him into a hug. He couldn't deny it any longer. Everything about him was perfect. He was the chaotic whirlwind that complemented his eccentricities. He was the odd madman that truly got what it was like to be an artist by using the sciences. He was the only other one to see his cold, dead heart and not be immediately disgusted. He was happy around him. He was free to do anything with him. He was himself at his absolute best.

He loved Medic. With all of his heart, he loved him.

[cluelessatthispoint]

hi!! saw ur reqs open <3 could you persnaps make something with engie? engie angst is such an unexplored genre and it makes me rabid !!! make that engineer suffer!!

OH! this sweet Texan boy is going to be in agony! I'm just so happy with angst....I like they way you think :)

Warnings: Blood, angst, suffering, hurt no comfort

~~~~~~~~

White hot tears sting painfully as they fall down his cheeks. The feeling of his poor abused lungs rapidly expanding and contracting fill him with lightheadedness and nausea. A truly miserable combination. Viscous dark crimson blood trickles and flows from the gash on his lower belly.

"Hnng!"

Waking up in a cold sweat his bright blue eyes scan the dark room. His breathing erratic and his left hand pressed firmly on the spot on his stomach. There is no injury, there is no blood...but the feeling of hot tears stinging his eyes is real. The cool crisp sheets cling to his skin, sticky from sweat. The dark room offers no comfort to alleviate his rising fears.....The feeling of something not quite right. The feeling of being....wrong. Wiping away the hot tears from his eyes he lets out a soft pitiful whimper.

Dying and respawning, dying and respawning....an endless cycle. A cycle of pain, adrenaline, fear and blood. A whine escapes his tense vocal cords, and he can't help but sob quietly into his other hand. His shoulders shaking with the force of his sobs. The sting of the cold metal from the gunslinger making contact with his sweaty, tearstained face sends shivers down his spine. A choked-up sob bubbles in the back of his throat.

"Oh God"

"Oh God..."

It hurts...Every damned breath burns. Every once in a while, the respawn gets finicky. Everybody on the team knows that. Sometimes you come back the same...sometimes you don't. It's an easy fix really. Just shoot the poor bastard and hope the respawn catches the mistake. But sometimes, no amount of sending someone through respawn will fix them...Last week it was Pyro. His best friend, his loyal arsonist companion...the week before it was the Heavy....

It's almost funny how easy it is to watch someone get their files deleted from the respawn internal databanks....The next time the person dies...they just...don't come back....It's easy to just flip a switch and send them off to their death. How they smile and think to themselves that the respawn with catch them. An enraged wail leaves their mouth. Tossing off his sweaty sheets Dell moves with lightning precision and speed to the computer lab. Checking every file...monitoring every action from the past few weeks up till the present. His file stared back at him...clenching his fist tightly he roars as he punches the monitor. The sound of his despairing, hoarse voice echoes throughout the lab. It sends small vibrations through the walls, and he punches the screen again and again in a blind fury until his hand is nothing but a bloody shredded mess. Blinging hot pain shoots up his arm and throbs with each beat of his heart.

"No...not me...not my turn...It's not my time yet..."

"IT WASN'T SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN TO ME!"

Collapsing to the ground with a resounding thud. He slowly brings his knees to his chest as best he can, he curls into a ball. Dell hasn't felt this scared since he was a boy. A young, stupid and foolish boy...his sobs are much quieter now. His blue eyes gaze at the floor in front of him. Seeing nothing and everything.

"God no...not me....not yet....."

His pleas fell on deaf ears.

~~~~~

well, how was that for ya? :)

[presidentbungus]

engy’s good for medic not because he really has any moral qualms with his general behavior and wants to fix him but because he’s a seasoned expert in the art of hiding the fact that he’s batshit insane, a skill that medic could very obviously use. medic primarily avoids the government by barely escaping them every time (in some comically inconceivable way) and going “thats okay I will face no consequences for this”. engy gets a look at his criminal record once (joke where a single piece of paper starts folding out into an accordion that slowly fills the room) and silently wonders how he’s managed to stay out of some maximum security prison on the world’s worst deserted island. one thing comes to another and I think they fake his death together. normal couple activities

as it stands, engy’s been fighting off spies and fhe government since he was 6. he’s probably better at avoiding suspicion than spy is. the small town he grew up in probably saw his name showing up in the obituary section of the newspaper as a normal tuesday.

by now everybody just accepts Dell’s tangled up in things that ain’t their business. they might worry about it were it anybody else but Dell can fix anything and he’ll do it for free so they’ll leave well enough alone (and he’s the kind of guy who you’d be a damn fool to get on the bad side of, anyway). he's something of an extra-polite force of nature; immutable, unstoppable, and sometimes destructive, though he puts all his messes back when he's done with them. occasionally when he comes around town somebody gets a little too curious for their own good. everybody considers it something of natural selection. the ones that are dumb enough to mess with him are usually dumb enough to be a nuisance, anyway. good riddance, or something like that. it’s not really a surprise when he runs back around town with another science-type on his tail, prim, pressed, and equipped with an omnipresent scary glower that puts even Dell’s pa to shame. it’s a little bit of a worry, sure, since Dell’s had his fair share of strange happenings and the new guy looks like he’s probably got a few screws loose, but Dell usually cleans up his messes well enough so nobody worries about it. Jack, twenty-something and one of the Weatherford’s sons, catches them kissing in the canned foods aisle of the general store and calls them both a number of choice words. that’s the last time anybody ever sees him. there’s murmurs of ‘poor kid’, but sticking his head right into the lion’s mouth like that nobody can say it wasn’t deserved

[butch-blu-scout]

Fluffy Scout finding an injured animal and being an expert on caring for them? Also the animal becomes the Team mascot?

OOOOOO! Okay- I'm gonna pick a lesser prairie chicken! Which look like this!

Scout loves animals.

We all know this. This man grew up with cats, dogs, a bird or two. He's had 'em all and he loves animals.

I like to think he volunteers at animal shelters whenever he goes back home.

Anyway-

So Scout's out on his morning run, and he's on his way back to the base. It's hot, he's sweaty, and Scout wants nothing more than to get back into the air conditioned base.

Until he hears some weak chirps

Of course, he can't ignore the weak sound so, despite how close he is to being back, he follows the sound.

After ten minutes of careful tip-toeing and listening he finds it.

A little prairie chicken... with a broken wing.

It tried to hop away, but the poor thing really couldn't get too far.

So Scout, a sucker for animals and ESPECIALLY animals in need, takes off his shirt, gently corrals the bird into a sort of baby-sling-shirt contraption. And then he gently carries it back to the base.

Of course, he can't really fix it by himself (he doesn't have the supplies) but you know who does?

Medic. Medic does, SO Scout takes the lil guy to Medic.

Medic is not amused.

He does NOT want some wild, potentially DISEASED, bird anywhere near his doves. So he just gives Scout the supplies and kicks him tf out.

So Scout, with his minimal experience taking care of injured animals decides to ask everyone else for help. But mostly Sniper.

Because Sniper could help. For sure.

And shockingly Sniper does help.

Once Scout and Sniper have the bird patched up, they decide make it a little home. But they don't have enough stuff.

So they ask everyone to help out.

The little prairie chicken gets silk blankets from spy, a lot of straw/bedding fluff from Soldier (Don't ask), a tiny house built by Engie, a little heater from Demo, several tiny pillows from Heavy, and the whole thing is decorated with stickers and paint by Pyro (It is actually horrifying to look at but don't tell him).

Even Medic chips in with feeding essentials.

Eventually though, the bird heals, and it's time to let it go

But it doesn't leave.

They try really hard (Read: they immediately let it stay because they love this silly bird) but this little chicken refuses to go.

So they keep it.

And finally, she gets a name

Penny.

Penny the Prairie chicken :)

[static-sulker]

The Process of Drawing all Nine Mercs (engineer and medic)

Im currently working on a new study for the characters, Im not done yet but I just wanna make sure Im not just dead quiet for a bit. I've gotten Sniper, Spy, Medic and Engie kinda sorted down to designs I really like. Im currently fixing up my Scout, Pyro and Solider drabbles, which I'm pretty confident with in Solider's case. Pyro is a bit harder with the face shape and the idea of the unmasked version which I really want to get right. I'm then probably going to do a study on Demoman and finally Heavy, which is the one Im not as excited about. Demoman does seem pretty enjoyable with how cosmetics make his hair but heavy is my fear right now. He has a very specific head shape and overall model for the face that I want to emulate in my style which may be pretty hard to get through with how I work with anatomy. While I'm taking my break, I wanna talk a bit on my hopes for the designs and overall notes on each of their designs. (I also will be making a big reference sheet for them all when I'm done with all 9 mercs).

Engineer

I adore Engineer and with him being my favorite character in the series, I wanted to get his design very specific for me. I wanted to create a model and almost a story for Dell in a way that emulated his character in a good way that wasn't too overdone or simple. One of the only "issues" I had to work with was the jump with hairstyling. I work with big hair and normally have characters gain mullets or longer hair when I flavor them (COUGH sniper COUGH) and the common choice of no hair for Dell is something I wanted to keep. It was easier after I formed and worked my art style into something that could work with a bald character, I think. My big piece that changes my design of Dell from others is his scars. If you couldn't tell from my work, I love drawing scars, and each of my final designs for each have very specific scars or bruises that really enwrap the character they sit upon. His main scar is his right eye having been caught in a severe explosion from an enemy demomans shot on his nearby sentry. This falls into the bond and story I want to give between both Ludwig and Dell, being one of their main bonding moments in my own personal canon. That scar in my opinion really personalizes his design in such a way that It can make him stand out from the original design but still showing his personality. His rather bubbling passion in battle that keeps him on the enemy line, with his sentry being placed in the perfect position to attack. He needs modifications, he needs upgrades. He cannot just be simple. He needs to be perfect, but that is always settled by his own personality and humbleness. I like to think he has a cracking, explosive point that breaks his normal attitude into something darker in battle, which I really like the idea of. Moving on from the main scars, I have a few other things that I like added to his design.

two slashes on his lower chin that creep up his lip. Spy encounter.

He has a series of soft freckles around his body, which appear more on his arms that face but still are apparent to a keen eye

READING GLASSES! He wears them sometimes, normally substituted for his goggles, but he wears reading glasses and I adore it

A lil tooth gap or a snarl tooth, which I really enjoy...It's a guilty pleasure to give all my characters teeth gaps(undecided if either one OR both)

Medic

Medic is another one of my really top tier characters, and I just love everything about him. His voicelines and overall demeanor that he just radiates is such a sinister and interesting energy that I needed to get down on paper. The issue for medic was probably his maturity. Less on his actually maturity, but in his overall body. My older style didn't focus on older or middle-aged characters all that often, radiating on a more softer and youthful body shape. The shape of his face was something I really needed to master, and I really enjoyed my time getting his overall silhouette. A LARGE shoutout to @archiarthur in being one of my biggest references to get his overall appearance and a lot of my reference besides his actual game models! It was a major help and I love your work :D! Anyways, back to medic. Ludwig overall is one of the designs i've gotten very comfortable with. His main design is good enough as it is, and really depicts exactly what I enjoy from him. The design is something I didn't want to falter with too much in my tranfer from screen to paper. He has a very specific smile that I wanted to bring over, making my usual flavor for teeth impracticalities like chips, dents, or any form of misshapen become harder to get across. I went more into the clothing or situation for the real flavoring when it came to my medic drawings, and how he held himself. I wanted to give him more moments with his birds, and with the power of art, I get to make infinite amounts of moments with his lil babys. Besides context and overall clothing hes not too overly flavored, just given a bit more hair, sometimes given larger or chained glasses which overall is never a permanent addition to his design, and some smaller things? His design isn't too overally added on but I do love drawing him and gotten into a real good groove with the design so uh yippie!

[sittin-on-the-rooftop]

Natural Enemies

Napoleon complex pt1

Just another casual day on 2fort.

Everyone is fighting hard, and RED’s engineer has taken to denying BLU team and entry to the sewers via sentry. He happily sat back in his lawn chair and relaxed as his sentry turned a persistent scout into Swiss cheese and the distinct scream of a burning spy could be heard from overhead.

But at BLU’s respawn, things were different.

— “ Scout. How many times have I told you. You run in and take the intelligence. You do not run in and take a sentry rocket to the ass like always. “ 

Spy argued, tired of his Bostonian colleague.

— “ It’s not my fault there’s a sentry up there!! How about YOU go do something useful and— idunno— destroy it??? “ 

— “ Have you forgotten? “

— “ Forgotten what?? “

— “ The enemy pyro? Or do you still remember the countless times they have burned us both to death the moment we step out of the base. “

— “ Ugh, just go sap the damn thing!!”

And so he did. Spy cloaked, managing to get a backstab on the enemy pyro and avoiding the rest of the enemy team as he swam down into the RED sewers. 

“ I did not just ruin my suit for this. “

He mumbled as he waded through the sewer system, disguising as pyro along the way. Finally, he came face to face with the sentry. 

— “ Mph mph mmh!!! “ 

(Translation: “ Spy over here! “)

With his best pyro impression, he called out to the engineer. 

— “ A spy, huh. Alright pyro, let’s try protect the nest. You stay with me. “

A spy? Really? Pyro should have killed the Frenchman by now. And wouldn’t he have already been spraying flames left and right looking for him?

Engie had pieced it all together. That pyro is a spy.

Spy, thinking the Texan had bought his facade, started to ‘check the area’. He had waited for the perfect moment, sapping the sentry and undisguising behind engineer as he was trying to fix it. But just as he was about to backstab him, his victim turned around and grabbed his wrist. 

— “ You and me, pardner. “ 

He wrenched the knife out of spy’s hand, discarding it into the sewer water, as he threw his own wrench at the dispenser. 

— “ Are you planning to punch me to death? “

 Spy gave a little snort as he spoke.

— “ Are you planning to just stand there and let me do it, frenchie? “

And so, engineer took a swing at the well-dressed Frenchman infront of him. Spy parried this with ease, taking engineer by the arm and pushing him face-first against the wall, knocking the wind out of his lungs, and twisting the RED mercenary’s arm ways it shouldn’t be twisted. Engineer groaned in pain, struggling to get out of the spy’s hold, but he just twisted his arm harder.

— “ Consider yourself dominated. “

With a sharp inhale, the hard-hatted fella took his other arm, twisting away to elbow spy clean in the nose. If not for him letting go of his arm in an attempt to react, he would have surely twisted his shoulder or worse.

— “ Not for long, mon amour! “

Engineer teased in a crappy French accent as spy’s face went red. Luckily, his foe didn’t notice due to his blue balaclava and the maroon blood staining it as his nose bled.

— “ I would assume you mean mon ami. And even so, you are no friend of mine, Engineer. “ 

— “ Considering all the metal you’ve cost me, I’m glad. “ 

The engineer took a moment to glance at his beloved buildings. Although his sentry was destroyed, his dispenser seemed to be fine..

A gloved hand covered his mouth, and he was harshly pulled backwards, into his worst enemy’s chest. 

— “ You’ve cost me more in dry cleaning. Try not to get blood on my suit this time, mon beau. “

He didn’t mean to call engineer beautiful, it was one of those things that just kinda… slipped out. Or was it?

Engineer bit down on the Frenchman’s hand, forcing him to let him go and let him speak. 

— “ The heck did you just call me, croissant boy? “ 

— “ Nothing “

— “ Tell me, i dare you. “

— “ You fucking know what I called you, Engineer! “

— “ I don’t speak baguette darlin’, you’ll need to elaborate. “

— “ First of all how dare you, second of all, did you just call me darling? “

— “ How about you tell me what you called me first! “ 

Engineer proceeded to shove spy into the wall, pinning his shoulders in place and looking ready to beat the fancy man’s sorry ass. 

— “ Fine. What is another word for a pretty man in English? “

— “ Hot? Why the heck are you asking me? “

— “ Try again, mr. 11 PHDs. “

— “ Beautiful? Where are you going with this, I’m supposed to be bashin’ your head in Texas style right about now. “

— “ … Handsome, Mon cher. “

And with that, spy cloaked, slipping out of engineer’s grasp and heading straight back to the blu base. The soldier was already on his way back with RED’s intelligence, so there wasn’t much he had to worry about.

“ I think that mission was a success. “

[fruit-teeth]

Chronicles of Love and War (chapter 15)

“What time do you think you’ll be back?” Angelica wanted to know, slipping her shoes on and fixing her hair in the mirror.

Spy cleaned his gun with a handkerchief, saying, “It depends. It could take anywhere from a few hours to the rest of the day. We are not entirely sure what’s going to happen this time…”

Angelica walked up behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist and hugging him tightly. “God, this makes me nervous…you stay safe, and for the love of God, keep Jeremy outta trouble!”

“Of course, dearest, of course,” Spy assured, and he turned around to embrace her in return. “It’s very kind of you to spend your day with the children…”

“Oh, it ain’t any trouble,” she smiled up at him. “It’s been forever since I took any of my boys to the movies! Taking these girls is gonna be a great time…”

Spy stepped back, though he reached forward to tuck Angelica’s hair behind her ear. “Mm, I know…you are amazing with children, you know that?”

“Always have been!” Angelica giggled, before reaching for her bag. “All right, I’ll get the girls and we’ll drive into town…you boys stay safe!”

“We will,” Spy assured her, and the two shared a kiss. “We will, mon petite…”

Outside, Olivia and Lucy were reading a toy magazine Helen had given them while sitting side by side on the base's front stairs.

“Look at that one!” Olivia pointed to a giant stuffed swan. “It looks really pretty!”

“Yeah,” Lucy agreed. “But the beak is pink! Real swans don’t have pink beaks…”

The door behind them swung open, and Angelica stepped out. “Hey, girls!” she announced. “You two ready to go?”

“Yeah!” Olivia quickly closed the magazine and stuffed it in her bag, standing up. “What movie are we gonna see?”

“Hmm, I dunno!” Angelica smiled, taking the hands of both children and leading them to her car. “We’ll go to the theater and see what looks good, okay?”

“Okay!” Lucy piped up in agreement. She looked over her shoulder, waving towards the base and shouting, “Bye, daddy!”

Merasmus stood near the cars, waving goodbye to his daughter as she climbed into Angelica's car with Olivia. He tried to push down the wave of anxiety he felt about being separated from his child, but he reassured himself that she would be fine if she was with a motherly woman like Angelica.

He shook himself and turned around to look at Helen. “Tell me what we’re doing next.”

Helen pointed to where the mercenaries were equipping their vehicles with weaponry. “We will be driving over to the Applegate Mansion in separate cars. I have divided us into separate groups, and we will each be taking different routes to the mansion. I figured you and I would be leading the way, since you seem more familiar with the wooded areas than I am.”

“Oh,” Merasmus thought about it. “Well…all right. That sounds fine by me.”

“Good,” Helen gave a nod and stepped over to her own car, where Miss Pauling was already waiting for her. She opened the door and asked, “Do we have everything?”

“Yeah!” Miss Pauling nodded, checking her clipboard again. “Engie’s got the hydro-pump all strapped to his truck, so I think we’re good to go.”

“Wonderful.” Helen got into the driver’s side, and she watched to make sure Merasmus got into the passenger side all right. “You may need to crouch…you’re a bit too tall for my car.”

“Your car is just too small,” Merasmus grunted, but he managed to get the seat belt on without a problem. “Zelda is really going to get it this time…”

However, what they didn’t know was that Zelda and Bea were not at the Applegate Mansion at all. In fact, they were miles away in a quieter, emptier area of Teufort, visiting a run-down tavern.

A storm had begun to roll in as Zelda pushed open the tavern’s door. She gestured for Bea to follow and the two entered, letting the door close behind them.

Bea was instantly struck by the establishment’s gloomy atmosphere, and she shuddered. “Is this really the place?”

The lighting in the bar and dining area appeared dim, but this could have been due to the outer darkness caused by the approaching clouds. The dilapidated seats and tables, as well as the decade-old election leaflets hanging on a bulletin board in the back, gave the impression that it had not been updated in a long time.

“Yes, this is it.” Zelda confirmed. She strode to the bar area, where the bartender, a portly old woman in her later 60’s, cleaned a few drinking glasses.

The woman glanced up in surprise when she saw Zelda approaching. “Why, Miss Zelda! I have not seen you in months!”

“I’ve been quite busy,” Zelda informed the woman, before gesturing for Bea to come closer. “Cynthia, this is my sister Beatrice.”

Bea reached across the bar to shake Cynthia’s hand. “I go by Bea. Nice to meet you,”

Cynthia accepted the handshake but cast a quizzical look towards Zelda. “You told me your sister died! Was that a different sister?”

“No, it was the same sister,” Zelda informed her, clearing her throat. “Cynthia, we have a favor to ask of you.”

“A favor?” Cynthia raised an eyebrow. “Well…what is it you need?”

Zelda checked to make sure the few remaining patrons of the tavern were busy conversing with one another before speaking in a hushed tone, “Do you still have that magic mirror of yours?”

Cynthia’s eyes widened, as if Zelda had asked her something unthinkable. “Whatever for?”

“We’re looking for something,” Zelda replied. “And we believe your mirror may help us find it.”

“I…” Cynthia glanced at Zelda, and then at Bea. “I’m not sure. What is it you are looking for? Are you sure a simple tracking spell wouldn’t work in its place?”

“This is very important, Cynthia!” Zelda grit her teeth a little in frustration. She reached into the pocket of her dress and handed Cynthia a wad of cash. “Will this suffice?”

Cynthia cautiously took the money and leafed through it, before looking back up at Zelda. “All right,” she conceded with a nod. She placed the money into the cash register and gestured for Zelda and Bea to follow her. “Come with me.”

Zelda and Bea followed Cynthia through the tavern’s kitchen and into a small wine cellar. Past the rows of wine bottles and between the shelves sat a small door, which had a sign that read, ‘DO NOT ENTER’.

Cynthia removed a key ring from her pocket and unlocked the door for the sisters. She then explained, "I have to go back to check on the clients. The mirror is in here – just say, ‘Mirror, show me...’ and then ask for whatever it is you wish to see. You understand?”

“I am familiar with how this works, yes,” Zelda nodded. “This should not take terribly long, Cynthia. Thank you.”

“Not an issue,” Cynthia nodded at the women, before stepping out of the cellar. “I hope you find what it is you’re searching for.”

Zelda stepped into the small room gesturing for Bea to follow. The room was tiny, windowless and dark, and the only piece of furniture in it was an antique writing desk. On top of the desk was the mirror – it was a large, grand, gold-rimmed mirror that emanated a soft glow of blue light.

Bea couldn’t take her eyes off the mirror, approaching it slowly. “Wow…it’s beautiful. Why was it so hard to find one of these mirrors?”

"During the witch hunts, the majority of them were destroyed," Zelda explained as she stepped up to join her sister by the desk. "And King Alcabath, the first sorcerer to create these mirrors, has been dead for centuries. There haven’t been new mirrors made ever since.”  

Zelda reached over to touch the mirror, and instantly, the light glowed a pale white. Taking this as a good sign, Zelda cleared her throat and declared, “Mirror! Show us The Corrupt!”

Bea watched the mirror's reflective surface as the light became whiter and some images began to swirl in the reflections. An opening to a cave was soon visible, and as the view deepened into the cave itself, something else became apparent. Several cocoons, glowing red and hanging from the ceiling of the cave, quickly came into view. Light pulsed through the cocoons, and deformed creatures sat motionless behind the translucent covering.

“What are those?” Bea wanted to recoil in disgust at the sight of the cocoons. “Insects?”

“Not insects,” Zelda stared at the cocoons, mesmerized. “That’s The Corrupt itself! There, there is the Kingpin!” she pointed to the biggest cocoon, which was in the center of the others.

“Where is this, then?” Bea asked, leaning in towards the mirror to get a closer look.

The view changed to the outside of the cave again, showing a sign which labeled as ‘COLDWATER CAVE – DO NOT ENTER’.

Zelda smiled wide, leaning up and away from the mirror. “Coldwater Cave! That’s not far from here…if we get on one of the tour buses that frequents that area, we will be there in no time. Come along!” Zelda turned on her heel, heading for the exit.

Bea stared at the mirror for a moment longer, lost in thought. She yanked herself out of it, though, trailing after Zelda.

The dark clouds dissipated soon after.

Three of the mercenaries' cars and Helen's own car took different routes through the woods to Zelda's house at the same time. Sniper had driven through the woods in his van, crossing an old bridge that was thankfully wide enough for the camper.

Scout shuddered as he peeked out the window. “Ugh! I’m getting’ splinters just looking at this bridge…I swear, if this bridge snaps and we get tossed in that lake—”

“It won’t break,” Sniper assured, focusing on the trail ahead. “Looks pretty sturdy to me.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever…” Scout sighed. He undid his seat belt and stood up. “I’m gonna go in the back and get something drink.”

“Sure, go ahead,” Sniper affirmed. Scout opened the door to the rest of the camper and stepped in, closing the door behind him. Sniper reached for the cup of coffee on his dashboard, taking a sip and focusing back out on the trail.

Moments later, he heard the door open, and as he assumed it was Scout, he said, “Solly and Demo didn’t spill any jars, right? ‘Cause I swear if Soldier did—”

“Jars?” a feminine voice questioned. Sniper turned around, seeing Bronislava standing there.

“Oh!” he exclaimed, sitting up. “Sorry, I thought you were Scout for a second.”

“No, just me.” Bronislava smiled at him, sitting in the passenger seat. “Hope you do not mind that I choose to ride with you here,”

“No, I don’t mind at all,” Sniper assured. “You didn’t wanna ride with your brother and sister, though?”

Bronislava shrugged. “Well, I could ride back with them. But I have never been in…” she looked around the driving area, and into the door of the rest of the camper. “What you call this?”

“A camper,” Sniper replied, smiling over at her a little. “It’s small, but its perfect for me.”

“I see…” Bronislava nodded in agreement. “Would have been useful to have in Russia,”

Sniper laughed a little. “I bet. It doesn’t do too well with cold weather, though, my heater’s bust and broken—”

Before he could finish, Scout shouted from the back, “Hey, there it is!”

Bronislava and Sniper both turned to look, and sure enough, the mansion was close by. They had arrived before everyone else.

Sniper got out of the van first, followed by Bronislava, Scout, Soldier, and Demoman. Right away, they all noticed how eerily quiet everything was.

“You think she’s home?” Sniper asked, approaching slowly, rifle poised.

Scout bent down, picking up a stone. “One way to find out!”

“What are you doing, lad!?” Demo hissed, prying the stone out of Scout’s hands. “We need to wait for the others!”

“Aw, c’mon! We got here first!” Scout protested. “And besides – they won’t care if we get a head start, right?”

As the two bickered, Soldier suddenly got very quiet and stared out at the mansion, his whole body very still. Bronislava noticed, and she started to get an uneasy feeling.

“What?” she asked quietly, concerned, approaching Soldier.

Soldier’s face twitched, focused on something in the bushes behind the mansion. “My father is back there,” he informed her, his voice strangely shaky.

Bronislava paused, wondering if she misheard him. “What?” she looked towards the bushes, but there was no one there.

All of the sudden, Scout started shouting, “Oh, hell, no! The hell are you doing here!?” he pulled his gun from its holster, beginning to shoot wildly into the trees.

Alarmed, Sniper ran up and yanked the gun from him. “What are you doing!?”

“That guy who shot my brother Joey!” Scout spat, furiously trying to get the gun back. “He’s here! I gotta kill him! Bastard, you almost killed my brother!” he sprinted away into the trees, chasing after someone, though the others could not see anyone.

Demoman frantically gave chase, shouting, “Lad! Lad, get back here!”

At the same time, Soldier looked back toward the bushes and charged, shouting, “Pig! Pig, you should stay dead! You call yourself a father, you’re just a criminal!” he threw himself onto the ground, wrestling air.

“What the hell!?” Sniper exclaimed, feeling very worried, and he ran up to Soldier to stop him. “Soldier! Soldier, hey!”

However, it was then that a familiar voice stopped him dead in his tracks: “Now, what do you think you’re doing!? Didn’t I tell you to do push-ups with everyone else already? What, can’t you hear me, runt?”

Sniper’s blood ran cold in a way he hadn’t felt in over a decade. He turned around slowly, mumbling, “No…it can’t be…”

Standing behind him was Mr. Farber, his high school gym instructor. Mr. Farber prodded Sniper and grunted, “What’s the matter, runt? Dingo got your bloody tongue, huh? How ‘bout we call your dad and tell him you’re being a little weakling again?”

Sniper took a step back, gripping his rifle. “No…back the hell up, you bastard, I’m warning you…”

“Bastard?” Mr. Farber repeated, snarky as always. “That’s how you talk to adults, is it, Mr. Mundy? Oh, your parents are gonna love hearing about this! We're all aware that they need to stop making excuses for your scummy, runt behavior..." He trailed off, then grinned broadly at Sniper. “But, of course: they’re not your real parents, now, are they?”

Sniper screamed, "Bastard! " As he immediately lost all restraint, he rammed the gun's nozzle into Mr. Farber's jaw. “I’ll kill you!”

Bronislava was startled when she heard the gunshot and spun around to see Sniper looking around in a frenzy. “Where’d he go!?” his voice cracked, and he ran for the bushes. “Farber, get back here, you rat bastard!”

Bronislava glanced back towards Demoman, her heart racing, and noticed that he had given up trying to control Scout. Instead, Demoman was circling while yelling obscenities and appearing to be racing after someone while brandishing a sword. However, like the others, there was no one there.

Something was making them hallucinate. Bronislava came to the conclusion that this place undoubtedly contained a bizarre power, but she was unsure of how to stop it.

She turned around just in time to see Medic's ambulance approaching, and she dashed towards it, flagging it down. Right at that moment, though, someone stepped in front of her.

“There you are,” the man spoke in Russian, towering over Bronislava. “You really thought you could get away from me?”

When Bronislava saw Oleg, one of the soldiers who had tormented her family, she stumbled backward and collapsed to the ground. Oleg stepped closer, and he smirked down at her. "Oh, dear...what are you now that your big brother isn’t here to protect you, hm?”

Bronislava's inner child briefly wanted to flee and hide in fear, but she did everything she could to fight the urge. She staggered to her feet, holding her ground. “You’re not real!” she spat at him, teeth gritted.

Oleg only stared at her with disdain. “Piteous child…you’re not even worth a beating. I should just strand you and your siblings in the snow and leave you to starve. We would have more resources to go around that way.”

“You’re not real!” Bronislava screamed at him again, and she pulled out her knife to slash it across his face. However, the instant she did that, he disappeared.

Heavy dashed to Bronislava's side and grabbed her by the shoulders. “Sister! What is wrong!?”

Bronislava paused for a few deep breaths before turning around and frantically gesticulating to the others. “Something—something makes us see things! People that are not there!”

As Medic moved closer to join Heavy, he stared in bewilderment as Sniper continued to hack at nothing in the grass with his knife. “Hallucinations…but from what?”

“We have to stop it!” Bronislava urged. “You will see things, too!”

Yana leapt out of the ambulance as well, rushing to her siblings. “Is it the witch!?”

“We do not know!” Heavy told her. “But we stop this!” he looked towards the bushes, where Soldier was writing in the grass and screaming, and he ran towards him.

“I’m not a failure! I’m not! Stop saying it!” Although Soldier fiercely threw his hands out to try to crush the illusion of his father, he was sobbing.

Heavy ran up behind him, restraining him. “Soldier! Is not real!”

“Let me go!” Soldier screeched, trying desperately to throw Heavy off him.

In a frenzy of wrath, Scout ran straight into the ambulance, banging his head against the car and instantly losing consciousness. Medic ran over to him and knelt, feeling his head. “Oh, dear!”

As Lar-Nah quickly stepped out of the van, Medic directed her to Sniper. “Go tranquilize your child, there’s some kind of magic making everyone lose their minds!”

Lar-Nah ran over to Sniper, getting a syringe of full of a light tranquilizer ready. But when she got close to her son, he suddenly started crying and fell to the ground screaming.

“You bastard…” his voice cracked, his lower lip quivering. “What did I ever do to you!? Am I just too different? Is that why you hated me, because you knew I wasn’t from here? That it?” he sobbed again, covering his eyes.

Lar-Nah set the syringe down and knelt down next to Sniper in the grass, placing a hand on his shoulder. “None of it’s real,” she told him quietly. “Whoever you think is there is not there – its some kind of magic.”

Sniper caught his breath, sniffling, and he looked up at Lar-Nah. “Huh?”

“It’s a trick, Zelda is probably tricking every…” she trailed off, hearing a twig snap nearby. Slowly, she turned around to look, and just a few feet behind her stood her aunt Ree-Lan.

“What’s the matter, Lar-Nah?” Ree-Lan took a few steps closer to her, staring down at her with dead eyes. "Why don't you just flee if you're so worried about a trick being played on you and your unwanted child?” She came in close to Lar-Nah, so close that she breathed on her, yet her breath was chilly. "You've never done anything but run away from challenges," she said. “Just like you ran away after you poisoned me, you ungrateful coward!”

Lar-Nah was silently staring into nothing, and Sniper noticed that the others were either doing the same or battling what they were seeing. He then recognized that she was right: they were being tricked.

“Hey!” Sniper snapped, and he grabbed Lar-Nah by the shoulders, turning her around to face him. “We need to find Merasmus, he’ll know how to stop this!”

Lar-Nah blinked a few times, trying to shut out the demanding prescence of Ree-Lan, and she just nodded. “All right…all right,”

Sniper got up and grabbed her by the hand, they ran towards the front lawn. Helen's car arrived, and Merasmus only had to look once to realize something was seriously wrong.

"Stop the vehicle!" Merasmus barked, and as soon as Helen did, he slammed the door open and dashed up to Sniper and Lar-Nah.

Sniper instantly began to try and explain, “There’s something making us see things that aren’t there—”

Merasmus yelled in annoyance, instantly realizing what was happening. “I know what this is! Stay here and try to keep everyone out of trouble!” He dashed towards the front garden, where he began searching through the overgrown flowers and weeds.

Engineer’s truck pulled up later, and the moment he stepped out, Miss Pauling ran up to get his attention.

“Okay, don’t panic,” she began. “But something really weird is going on! There’s some kind of magic that’s making everyone see…people, I guess? I don’t know, I just got here! But, uh, know that if you see anyone or anything you wouldn’t expect to be here, it’s not real!”

“Jesus!” Engineer breathed, thinking this over as Pyro came up to join him. “What kinda psychological warfare is that!?”

Spy looked out towards the ambulance, and with a start, he noticed Scout laying down in the grass next to it. He swore under his breath and rushed over, immediately checking his son’s pulse. “What happened!?”

“He ran into the ambulance and fell unconscious,” Medic informed him, approaching Spy. “He’ll be fine – I’ve hardly had any time to tend to him, everyone else is being terrorized by these horrible visions!”

Spy turned to look at Medic, struck by how disheveled he appeared already. “What happened to you?”

Medic waved him off. “I know they are only deceptive illusions, but whatever it is, it made the apparition of my former headmaster seem amazingly genuine. I'll be alright.”

Merasmus ran up to the front garden of the mansion, which seemed to have fallen into disarray. Using a light beam, he scoured the soil, until he found a disturbed patch and dove his hand straight into it.

Within moments, he yanked out a creature – it was a small, pig-like animal, with dark black eyes and smooth pink skin. It squealed in alarm, writhing, and everyone’s visions suddenly fell away.

Demoman caught his breath and put down his sword, looking around in confusion, realizing he was no longer chasing after the man who had stalked him many years ago. “What…what happened?”

“This happened!” Walking to the middle of the lawn while holding up the beast for everyone to see, Merasmus declared, “A Brainpig!”

Panting, Miss Pauling staggered to her feet. “A what!?”

“A Brainpig!” Merasmus repeated. “These creatures have potent magic which delves into the minds of its victims. They then use the information they learn to create apparitions of people who caused harm to you in the past! Zelda must have gotten a hold of one of these and used it to ward us off!” he turned the squirming Brainpig around to look in its face. “What do you have to say for yourself, hm!?”

The Brainpig shrieked in a high-pitched voice, “Turn me loose! I apologize! Had I known there was a wizard, I’d have never agreed to watch over Zelda’s domain!”

Spy adjusted his mask, squinting at Merasmus and the Brainpig. “Is…it that pig talking?”

Merasmus ignored him and asked the Brainpig, “Where is Zelda, now?”

“She went to see a magic mirror!” the creature squealed. “To a tavern!”

“Magic mirror…tavern…” Merasmus’s eyes widened, and he threw the Brainpig to the ground with disdain. “I know where Zelda is! I’m going to go stop her!”

“Wait! What about this mission!?” Helen demanded, having found both her heels in the tall grass and slipping them on.

“Forget the mission! She’s not even here!” Merasmus grunted, and he looked to where the Brainpig was slinking off. “You had better run far away from here, you little vermin!”

The Brainpig wailed in agony and scurried off into the woods, never to be seen again.

Merasmus sighed in relief and turned back to the others. “There, that should take care of that little problem. Now…we need to get to that tavern!”

Medic stared at him in disbelief. “You...you just let the Brainpig get away!”

“That’s not the concern at the moment!” Merasmus snapped. “Listen to me: Zelda went to the Blue Bell Tavern, which is owned by the witch who has one of the last magic mirrors! She’s going to find the location of The Corrupt, and we need to stop her, now! I will teleport myself there if I have to!”

“Teleport? You could have done that the whole time? And you had someone drive you here?” Sniper asked, annoyed.

Merasmus cast a glare in his direction. “Teleportation is not as easy as it looks, mortal!”

"Get a head start - we'll..." She looked around, wincing at how disheveled everyone was from this one experience. “We will catch up to you!”

Merasmus gave a nod, and he soon vanished in a flash of light.

Scout finally came to, his head spinning. “Ugh…what the hell, man?”

Spy sat down next to him in the grass, offering him a sip from his water bottle. “Here,”

Scout took a few swigs, letting out a sigh. “Did I get shot?”

“No…you’re all right,” Spy assured him, patting his shoulder.

Demoman approached the others, dragging his sword behind him, still huffing and panting. “Lord…that blasted, bloody Brainpig made me see that bastard who stalked me…”

Soldier, recovering from the ordeal, turned around and hugging Demo tightly. “If I see that hippie, I will beat his face into goo!”

Demoman smiled a little, and he hugged Soldier in return. “Absolutely, lad…”

Heavy sat in the grass, both arms around his sisters as they all took the time to recover. Medic approached, sitting behind Heavy and resting his head on his shoulder.

“How is everyone?” Medic wanted to know.

“Fine,” Heavy assured, opening up his arms to let Medic slip into the hug. “Hate that pig…hate him.”

“Me too!” Medic huffed. “Shame Merasmus let it run off…I would have loved to study it…”

“Misha?” Bronislava looked up at her brother. “Did you kill Oleg? Years ago? I do not remember…”

Heavy thought about it, and then said, “Yes. I wrung his neck.”

“I helped!” Yana added proudly.

Bronislava smiled, and she took both their hands into her own. “Good.”

[penrose42]

I think I need a break from TF2

I got so unreasonably angry at an enemy medic using the Vaccinator that I made homophobic remarks and almost got kicked off Uncletopia. I apologized once I figured out it wasn't that particular medic but their other one, but honestly I'm just so fucking tired.

It's not even that the vax is the most OP weapon in the entire game, it's that Medic's balance as a whole is complete and utter bullshit. He's a class that nobody who knows what they're doing wants to play, and the people who do play him either are too new to realize how unfun he is or are in a group and don't give a fuck about the other team having fun at all. It's just a clusterfuck of the problems of the game as a whole; matchmaking needs tweaking to break team stacks, some weapons are in dire need of rebalances, both nerfs and buffs alike, and for the love of god an actual tutorial would be a godsend. These poor baby engies have no idea what they're doing and I just die a little inside every time one of them sets up on last during setup.

But again the biggest problem I have right now is with Medic. He's a chore more than actual fun to play. His playstyle is so stale that I'd honestly argue that Heavy has more variety, and I can prove it. With Heavy you can play as: Default Heavy Fat Scout Boxer Heavy Hoovy All varying means of dealing damage, if that's your objective, and all have varying skill floors. Medic you have: The Meta The "My team is bad so I need to run the Blutsauger and Quick-Fix" Meta And that's pretty much it if you're solo queueing, but if you're with friends then there's: Pocket Medic/Medic Girlfriend

Really it all just boils down to "stand behind someone while clicking on them and right click when you're in danger" and that's it. How engaging. Oh and be sure to turn around because nobody else will because why would you ever spycheck when you can do literally anything else.

The absolute worst part is that I've played Overwatch, and while TF2 blows it out of the water in so many ways, this is one area where I honestly think it's vastly superior. You have a choice of a dozen support characters who play and feel so unique to one another that I'm honestly itching to go back simply because I like the variety of their support characters. Ana is not Moira who is not Brigitte who is not Mercy, but that's actually one of the best parts of the game! Every character has their own playstyle and it's all great and unique and fun! Saving my teammates from certain death because I threw Baptiste's Immortality Field at the last second is really, really satisfying! Going on a massive killing spree as Moira and jumping out of existence is exhilarating! Wall riding as Lucio, shield bashing as Brigitte, heal sniping as Ana, it's all so varied and fun! You hear that, Valve?! Healing can be fun!

Meanwhile in TF2 we have the Medic. Sure Engineer is there, and Heavy can throw a sandwich, but it all pales in comparison to Medic. The class nobody wants to play until you're forced to. The class that decides games, but you need to sacrifice your own sense of fun by doing so. And sure clutch crossbow bolts are satisfying and require skill, but there goes one out of your two weapons that are supposed to be good for short range self defense, which I'm not even going to blame you for because the Syringe Guns are just so heinously bad at what they do that they're a fucking joke.

I know they need to be bad, but Jesus fuck at least make them good at their intended job. Passive reload would be all that's needed. Just that. Let me stay alive without needing to rely on my dipshit teammates who are too stupid to know the difference between their ass and a hole in the ground.

And before I forget, I recall from a Shounic video something that just irritates me to no end. Apparently either during development of TFC or TF2, they were thinking of implementing destructible environments, which Demoman could break to enter certain areas of the enemy base, but scrapped it because they didn't want to force people to switch to Demo just to access that area and switch back to whatever they wanted to play. But they didn't consider that when they designed Medic? The class nobody wants to play but someone fucking caves in to play because you're getting absolutely fucked over by the enemy team who knows what they're doing while everyone on your end is a fucking gibbous vision who's A posing staring at the wall? Well fuck me then.

I'm just so tired. I see nothing but new players playing Medic and I change to help but they change the second I do. I want to have fun but I can't with how dull and repetitive his gameplay is and of course, if I don't play Medic, nobody who knows what they're doing will. I understand why people like the Vaccinator. Sure it's just one more button but at least it's something different from "stand behind person while clicking on them". I swear Medic needs just something new. Idk if it's just the game's age coming through or what, but Medic just needs something. I don't know what that would be. New unlocks? Reworking existing weapons? Both? Neither? I have no clue.

What I do know is that for the first time in the 3 years I've been playing I've uninstalled the game. I just need a break.