#sniper spy and scout are the two i am just so ass at drawing

[mmph-hudda-huuh]

CHEMIST'S RELATIONSHIPS WITH THE OTHER MERCS !!

Below are how I imagine Chemist interacts with the other mercenaries, and how they spend time together. None of it is explicitly shippy, even Spy, but as a very enthusiastic multi-shipper I will 100% draw my oc kissing hot tf2 men and encourage everyone else to do the same. I am cringe but I am free.

Scout

He has a weird rivalry with Scout where he's endlessly fascinated by the man's ability to drink radioactive soda and not die, but will still call him an Elmer's-eating fucknut if Scout so much as breathes at him. It's a mutual thing and over time becomes less about malice and more of an inside joke. It's very common for competitions to start during work hours, leading to both of their performances skyrocketing.

Soldier

Soldier is his ride or die, it literally took two seconds for them to recognize the autism in each other and become inseparable. Chemist is a smart guy and generally holds the brain cell, but the second you put him next to Solly he loses any form of rational thought. They cause endless chaos. It's beautiful.

Pyro

Pyro and CJ are a force of chaos both on and off the battlefield. Pyro watched this nervous scrawny man walk into the base and went 'Hm. Yes. This is a friend.' Cooper sees them like a younger sibling, except he will under no circumstances be responsible in their presence. If left alone for too long these two will 100% destroy anything that can be burned or corroded. They both have their weird little destructive obsessions and egg each other on.

Demoman

CJ and Tav like to put their heads together to make horrifying objects. They're the type to get piss drunk together and invent a bomb that could end the fucking world. When they aren't giving the admin more grey hairs, their usual time together consists of testing hang-over solutions each morning to make a fix-all for those types of consequences. OH and they both watch soap operas. Together. They cry and gasp and talk to the screen like losers.

Heavy

Heavy and Chemist get along well, both commonly in the infirmary. They both enjoy literature, and Heavy's quiet, calm nature goes well with Chemist's nerves and habit of info-dumping. They aren't the closest, but CJ thinks very highly of him and Misha enjoys their talks, often seeking out Chem just to get into a debate over symbolism in books they both have read.

Engineer

Engie amazes Chemist. The man has 11 PhDs! That's damn impressive! His machines are so intricate, and the Gunslinger is a genius idea in his opinion. Plus, he reminds CJ of his gran, with his kind words and bomb-ass food. It's hard to feel alone in the world when a sweet little southern man is offering you some mild alcohol and an ear.

Sniper

CJ actively dislikes being around sniper because of his disinterest in hygiene practices. They have a few things in common, however, in that they both suffer from social anxiety, and that their parental figures don't support their job choices. They often bond over this, but from a comfortable distance.

Medic

Chemist relies heavily on Medic. He's terrified of how lax the man is with safety rules, but his medications and healing beam can help dull his symptoms. It makes life much easier, and for that, CJ is endlessly thankful for Dr. Ludwig. Besides that, they also feed off each other's mad scientist energy, and Medic has been working to find the cause of his issues since the moment Cooper joined. The doctor is well aware most of the symptoms are commonly caused by stress, but some of them are quite strange in their own ways, so he is happy to experiment.

Spy

Cooper is very weird about Spy. The team has no idea if it's a crush or just admiration, but Chemist often strives to gain Spy's approval, praise, and attention. They can be seen together frequently because if Spy appears somewhere it doesn't take long for CJ to seek him out. They can be seen playing chess together, talking(gossiping) in French, and on the battlefield, they always have each other's backs. Despite this, if asked, Spy will deny that they are anything more than acquaintances, and Chemist will simply dodge any questions related to the topic with visible discomfort.

[ruthytwoshakes]

oh heyyyyy guess who has gotten ,, 3 sleep hours in the past two days???? not me I actually got like 5. Feel bad for whoever got only 3

oh and uh I got no sleep because I have been very busy cleaning and packing and unpacking and more cleaning and driving and helping friends and not sleeping and

so I will not get to finish the last two days of the tf2 Valentine’s Day event on time. Sobbing crying. But that is okay 👍👍👍👍👍 I can finish them later this week yay. As an apology I have some sketches to share yay ,,,,,,, might have to make a part 2 hmmmmmm

okay so my idea for this was like,, soldier and engie keep their helmets and shit in because it’s like a ,, important thing to them idk you decide,,,, and uhh then they decide to take them off as a trust thingy,, and then spy happens. uhhh this was when I was still learning how to draw the mercs so it does not look too much like them but it’s fine. was supposed to be for the event. Might finish idk

A part 2 to my day 1 submission! I like the story kinda thingy I’ve come up with,, but I suck major ass at writing fanfics so I’ll just make some little comics eventually. I kinda gave up on this because I couldn’t pose it correctly and my random 2 am burst of energy ran out.

Saw the pose and immediately knew I had to draw them. Might make another version with demoman lmao

Made these quick sketches of the team being father figures or epic friends with scout,, uhhh got distracted and forgor to add pyro and sniper oops. Might finish!!

I LIED PROMISCUOUS GIRL,,, IM NOT GOING TO SHOW YOU MY TF2 SKETCHES. NOW TAKE A SEAT WHILE I SHOW YOU MY CHARACTERS INSTEAD B))

that is Sam and Flint, Sam is the cat perch and Flint is the cat. They are pirates and horrible,, I love them.

there ya go here’s some stuff,,,, original template by KillerCat on twit I think!!

all righty now that you’re hooked uhh look at the reblog for part two lol I couldn’t fit all the photos.

[fckntf2hcs]

I feel like snoiper would also do bird calls. Like ever heard a kookaburra? Spy's sneaking up for the backstab and suddenly WOHEHEHEHEHAHA

He gotta stay still for his job so I imagine mostly small stims like foot tapping while he's scoped and saying 'boom, headshot' under his. He also canonically has Garand Thumb so he fiddles with his rifle a lot

THSID IS SO FUJNY HELP?:!:?;! absolute jumpscare for spy especially since sniper is such a quiet person, but he’d probably do the bird call when he’s real bored n not seein anyone anywhere.

ALSO THE STIMS… SO TRUE. Mostly just small usually unnoticable stuff, I think he’d chew the inside of his cheek too.

here’s a two panel comic with the kookybara call. I know sniper wouldnt just be standing like that but i didnt know how else to draw him😭

I think it’d be so funny if he didn’t even move while he did the call. He’s standing there all still n all, then suddenly he does this loud as birdcall not even moving at all, then just goes back to standing there.

The bird call completely throws Spy off and he jumps n drops the knife and then Sniper turns around n immediately guts n kills him. I don’t think Sniper would be embarrassed, I think Sniper is a very embarrassed person for weird things like pissing in jars and doing bird calls out of nowhere. It’s very specific things that make him embarrassed and when you get him embarrassed he gets so upset.

[thetriggeredhappy]

How about the team agreeing to play baseball with Scout for his birthday? Because they always admired how happy and free he looks when he's running. (SniperScout in between if possible would be great)

pushed up in the requests backlog for reasons. team bonding fic is best fic

(warnings for alcohol mention and passing non-graphic cartoonish violence)

-

“The hell is he so excited about?” Demo asked, raising an eyebrow and glancing over his shoulder towards where Scout was laughing his way down the hall.

“No idea,” the Engineer said, shuffling the deck neatly. “Been all high-energy high-spirits the whole damn day.”

“Unfortunately,” Medic agreed, a little bitter. That garnered several more raised eyebrows from around the table.

“Twice in one day Doktor has to fix broken leg in fighting,” Heavy explained, placing a placating hand on Medic’s shoulder. “And Scout takes many bad risks. Overconfident.”

A questioning noise from within Pyro’s suit. “I’d sure like to know why, as well,” Engie nodded. “Tryin’ out some new energy drink, maybe?”

“High spirits and hubris from consistent victory?” Soldier suggested.

“You’re joking,” Sniper suddenly cut in, glancing around the table, who all looked right back, surprised to hear him cutting in on the usual gossip. “...You lot really didn’t remember?”

A snort from Spy, a vague shrug from the rest of the table.

“It’s his birthday tomorrow.”

A pause, then noises of surprise, shock, and from some of the table, alarm. “A repeat of last year, how very unfortunate,” Spy hummed, taking a sip of his drink.

Pyro shouted something with no small amount of conviction that might have been along the lines of “this is terrible!”. Demo seemed to agree, from the shock on his face, the widening of his eye.

“Oh no,” Heavy rumbled, looking legitimately worried. Medic’s eyebrows were furrowed.

“I can’t believe you,” Sniper deadpanned, glaring at all the other mercenaries sitting there. “First year, you don’t bother wishing him a happy birthday. Second year, he plans a whole damn party for himself so you lot wouldn’t forget again and half of you don’t plan ahead and we get scheduled out on a mission and leave the bugger all alone all weekend. And you promise you won’t forget again. And one year later, here we are.”

Pyro appeared to be in a state of panic, pacing at high speed behind their chair, tugging at various points of their suit in high agitation. The Engineer’s face was largely hidden behind the hardhat and goggles and the hand clamped over the bottom part of his face.

“Perhaps he won’t be upset,” Medic suggested. “We all simply wish him a happy birthday and have drinks.”

“We do that every other weekend,” Demo pointed out. Soldier murmured in the affirmative.

“Sniper has remembered,” Heavy noted, looking at the man in question. “Maybe team helps with plans?”

“I already got him a gift,” Sniper mumbled, fidgeting with his hat. “But I don’t think we’ll manage to pass it off as from the whole team.”

“He’s gonna be so disappointed if he finds out that we forgot again,” Engie sighed, head in his hands. “It’ll break his damn heart.”

“So once again, it seems that I’ll need to step in and save you all,” Spy drawled, putting his glass down and reaching into his jacket, pulling out and unfolding a sheet of paper. “With your collective track record regarding this specific event, I assumed you would all forget again, and so took some steps to ensure that there would be a backup plan when the event arises and we wouldn’t need to deal with moodiness and general malaise from the team for the next several weeks.”

The Engineer took the paper, holding it so Medic could read it at the same time as him, Heavy leaning to try and get a look. Eyebrows began to rise. The paper was passed around the remainder of the table.

“You think this’ll work?” Demo asked suspiciously.

“Obviously. Well, and to be fair, you don’t exactly have any other options.”

He had them there.

-

“—Just totally can’t believe you talked Miss P into lettin’ us do this that’s just the coolest shit in the world lemme tell ya, like seriously that’s completely nuts and I can’t even believe it, she’s the best—!“

Scout had only stopped talking long enough to breathe over the course of the entire walk from the base to the makeshift baseball pitch that the Engineer had propped up overnight, absolutely bubbling and more high-energy than any of them had assumed to even be possible—even for him. And most of them had anticipated already hating the idea by the time they got to the pitch, but so far things were actually going rather well. The uniforms that had been shipped in (in their team colors, obviously) all fit them correctly and weren’t nearly as embarrassing as expected, in particular since most of them opted to keep at least one part of their usual wardrobe in the mix, such as masks or helmets or hats. Pyro, for one, just put the baseball uniform on over their entire flamesuit, but nobody was particularly surprised.

They crested the little ridge and got a look at the pitch, and for a moment, Scout went silent, eyes wide and mouth agape. Demo elbowed the Engineer to get his attention and flashed a thumbs up, making him grin and fluster a bit, mumbling about how it was nothin’ special, really.

“Alright,” Scout finally said, turning to them with his hands on his hips, taking on an authoritative tone. “So who here knows how baseball works?”

The Engineer and Soldier raised their hands. After a moment, Sniper and Pyro tentatively did the same. Demo made a so-so motion with one hand.

“And who knows how sandlot baseball works?”

Everyone but the Engineer dropped their hands, and even then, he looked a little doubtful.

“Alright,” Scout said, scrubbing a hand through his hair. “So we don’t exactly got enough people to make a real team—need twelve for a standard six-players-a-team. So we’re gonna be improvising a little bit.”

He looked around, and started addressing each of them with a pointed finger.

“Heavy,” he said, and the giant raised an eyebrow. “You’re catcher, all you gotta do is stay behind first base and catch the ball so it doesn’t roll away. I know you’re not gonna flinch when you see somethin’ speeding at your head, yeah?”

Heavy nodded thoughtfully.

“Cyclops, first base,” Scout said next. “Fucks with your blind spot the least, and you know how to throw shit. Mumbles, you’re on second, Helmet-Head on third.”

Demo flashed a thumbs-up, Pyro clapped their hands together, and Soldier raised an arm in a sturdy salute.

“Doc, right field. Odds are, none of these chuckleheads are gonna hit anything too far to the left or right of normal, but if they do, you’re like practically as fast as I am and can handle it. Spy, you hang out back there in left field. I know you’re probably not gonna catch shit if it comes at you, but hey, it’s worth a shot and you won’t gotta deal with much anyways.”

Medic nodded at the compliment and Spy raised an eyebrow at the insult.

“And Snipes, you’re the pitcher,” Scout concluded, hands returning to his hips.

There was a snort from Demo. Sniper elbowed him.

“Figured you know how to throw shit and won’t straight up brain anyone,” Scout continued, not noticing the squabble. “And I’ll be first up to bat, and we’ll cycle through everyone in that same order, starting as soon as you guys can stop me from running all the bases, then we’ll play normally from there, how’s that sound?”

“You’re sure talkin’ yourself a big game there, son,” the Engineer observed, eyebrows raised.

“Damn right, I’ve been playin’ this shit since I was three,” Scout said, grinning wide. “This is gonna kick ass.”

-

Indeed, the first eight pitches went by in pretty rapid succession. Two because they fumbled and hesitated and miscommunicated in their pitching and couldn’t beat him to the bases, two after that as Scout scored home runs, another general fumble, another home run, one where the ball landed a few feet away from Spy who outright didn’t attempt to catch it, only kicking it closer to Medic as he rushed up to get it, and then one where Scout didn’t notice until he was back at home base that Soldier had unintentionally thrown the ball directly into the side of Pyro’s head (who was distracted by drawing shapes into the dirt at their feet).

They just barely managed to get him out on third, and then it was Demo’s turn.

Overall, by the first circuit through the whole team, they were surprised to find that they were actually having fun, even and especially with the odd shenanigans that ensued during the course of the game. There was one point where Soldier full-body tackled Demo at first base (just slightly confused about a few of the contact rules), and another where Sniper thought it would be funny to throw a hard ball of clay from at his feet, sending the team laughing as it exploded all over Pyro’s suit and they needed to stop to wipe the lenses on their mask clear. Demo surprised all of them with the first bunt of the game, and the Engineer with sending the ball soaring nearly into a homerun, with him sheepishly asking if using the Gunslinger to swing was allowed after he’d already run the bases. Then there was Pyro calmly stealing their way to third after the team thought their turn was over, and Heavy accidentally cracking the bat, and Medic absolutely eating shit as he tried to take off towards first. And nobody for sure knew how to react to the one time that Spy actually caught the ball, all but diving to catch it and send it to second just in time to get Soldier out. And of course, all of them were left just slightly in awe as Scout sent home run after home run sailing towards the stratosphere.

They finally had to stop when it was getting dark and Heavy informed them that they didn’t have any more baseballs left in the bucket for all the ones sent sailing far foul or off into the distance with a homerun. Soldier and Demo promised to go pick them up the following day and they all began their trudge back to base, covered in the bright orange loam of the desert and already slightly sore and feeling like they were in much higher spirits than any of them had expected. Scout, most of all, seemed... contented. Not just cheerful, not just bubbly, but contented, satisfied. Happy. He seemed so very happy.

Several of them, glancing around between themselves, considered telling Scout the truth, that they hadn’t put in nearly as much work as he thought they did. But most of them just settled in for saying happy birthday a few more times over assorted bottles of booze and maybe even a movie.

Sniper, for one, was a little fidgety on the way back to base. Halfway there, he took Scout by the shoulder, pulling him to slow down just a bit.

“Had, er,” Sniper said once they were a good few meters trailed behind the team, eyes averted. “Heavy said we were out, but. Had, er. Had one ball left.”

He pulled the baseball in question out of his pocket, unfolded it from the handkerchief it was in, passed it over, a little sheepish. Scout took it, confused, turning it over in his hands.

He stopped dead in his tracks. The rest of the team slowed and turned as they realized two of their party weren’t with them. Scout’s mouth was agape.

“Ohmygod ohmygod ohmygod ohmyGOD—“ Scout babbled suddenly, eyes widening, practically starting to vibrate in place. “—is this a real actual serious legitimate gen-u-ine real signature? Snipes please tell me you’re not fuckin’ around right now ohmyGOD.”

“Nah, yeah, from the actual bloke,” Sniper agreed, scratching at the back of his neck awkwardly. “Yats-rem-key, something like?”

“Only just jersey number eight, left fielder for the Boston Red Sox, five-time All-Star four-time Gold Glove winner and three-time batting champion, Triple Crown winner and overall MVP in the entire American Major League of baseball, Carl Michael motherfuckin’ Yastrzemski!”

Sniper faltered under the sudden weight of the entirety of Scout as he was all but tackled in a hug, Scout continuing to babble excitedly on about the man whose signature was on the baseball in his hands. There was a general chuckle and rolling of eyes from the team as they watched the scene unfold.

“And we’re sure Sniper’s not the catcher, then?” Demo asked lightly, and with Sniper not there to elbow him, the Engineer took his place, making Demo snicker.

“If you would please cease embarrassing yourselves,” Spy called over after giving them a solid minute, which made Scout look up and apparently notice the entire team looking at them, flushing red and promptly trying to pretend he didn’t just do all that. “I believe that Heavy has prepared some kind of cake and I for one would rather not eat it after Pyro has covered it in candles and torched them all.”

Indeed, Pyro by then had a good head start on the team, who all hurried to catch up. And they all bumbled their way through at least five nationalities’ rendition of a Happy Birthday Song, and each very nearly got through their slice before the first scrap of the night began and the rest of it was lost in the mayhem, and overall, Scout would remark the next day through the haze of his hangover that actually, that was easily one of his favorite birthdays in a long time.

[aifastic]

Winning Lines

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

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

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

-----

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Heh.”

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

“What’s your deal, Long Legs?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Huh?” Both mercenaries stared at him quizzically.

Demo grinned, eye glinting.

“Let’s have a drawing contest.”

-----

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Heavy is in, too.”

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

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

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

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

“Ach, watch where you’re going!”

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

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

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

Engineer peeked over his shoulder.

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

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

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

Everyone stared at him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-----

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

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

Everyone nodded. Pyro hummed happily.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Soldier snickered.

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

“Alright! Look at it and weep!”

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

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

“Those are his eyes!” Oh, God.

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

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

“Interesting,” said Spy, nodding approvingly.

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

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

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

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

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

He turned the page face up.

“Mate,” Sniper said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Where is his spacesuit, though?”

His face dropped. “Aw, hell.”

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

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

“What do you mean—?”

Holy shit.

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

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

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

Oh, for the love of—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[disappearinginq]

Dear god the 'shippers' in the Magnum fandom are driving me mad. They're like rabid little zombies! I'm cool with Higgins. I'm even okay with the idea of Magnum and Higgins getting together, in like season 10 or so. But if we don't get a third season it'll be because the shippers are messing with the writer's heads and I just wanna drop kick some sense into them all! (Sorry, this is the only place I know where I can vent and not get jumped on for not loving 'teh Miggy' Urgh.

Ha! You’ve come to the right place. I realize that half of what I don’t like about her character is that her ‘badass self’ doesn’t have to change - but why does it always have to be at the expense of others? Like Batman doesn’t become less awesome because Wonder Woman is on the screen. The ‘ship wars’ ultimately destroyed Arrow - and those fans went after real life people and made their lives a living hell (just look up what they did to poor Katie Cassidy) or harped on Stephen Amell getting together with Emily Rickards off screen (despite Stephen being happily married to someone else), or how JohnLock shippers almost made Martin Freeman quit because of the atrocious things being said to his real life wife. I’m not sure why people feel the need to get shitty to one another personally over a fictional character, but...holy shit. Being goddamn psychos about it does nothing but push others further from liking a show (never mind the character). You want to endear me to Higgins? Come up with a plausible/non-romantic reason she’s as two faced as a double sided coin when it comes to interacting with Magnum. She’s lost a fiance? Boo-hoo. Magnum and his best friends were sold out to a terrorist organization who imprisoned and tortured them for over a year and a half, then she tried to kill him and possibly had a hand in the death of one of his best friends and he still manages to have compassion. Her mother had dementia? Wah wah. TC’s father has blown him off at every turn after spending TC’s younger years in prison after his mom up and left them, and ohhhhh looookkk....he’s STILL A HUMAN TEDDY BEAR. Rick was raised by ORGANIZED CRIME MEMBERS. HE WAS A SNIPER. Not just a sniper, but a SCOUT SNIPER. He had a more personal look than most when it came to combat, and guess what. Not only does he still volunteer to help build houses for disabled veterans, help his employees at every turn, his besties, but also manages to still be a cheerleader for everything that his friends accomplish. Is it fair to compare tragedies? No. But at the same time, they’re just making her look like she’s the one who lets every little thing be an excuse to be an ass - and then pout when she doesn’t get her way. Like...are the rabid shippers mad when we don’t like that because that’s the part they identify with?  

I also really wonder if there’s multiple writing teams. Because like Blood Brothers was straight up showing how they didn’t actually need her. And for anyone that actually knows how life rafts work, they kinda made her look extra dramatic trying to be relevant. Fun fact: nobody actually wants to have to do complex satellite recon and math to figure out where a life raft is, that’s why they have GPS installed. So that could’ve been all of 30 seconds - “I found the GPS transponder, it washed ashore on the island here.” She also comes off as either 1) especially heartless or 2) the writers confirm that she had absolutely nothing to do with anything in the Middle East during her time as an MI6 agent beyond rubbing elbows with diplomats. As soon as she says “we break the law for life or death”, anyone who has ever dealt with the shit show that is Afghanistan/Taliban knows she hasn’t got a clue - illegally fleeing Afghanistan is the only way out of it. And if Ahmed was returned to the Taliban, he would be lucky to be forced into the Taliban. It is much more likely that someone who is seen as friendly towards the West will be horrifically tortured and publicly executed (probably filmed too). And like throwback to the second episode of season 1 - she speaks Arabic. Arabic has like a million little offshoots and dialects and that’s what makes it interesting but also really difficult for translators (or you know, spies) to learn it well enough to blend. Typically though, Arabic is primarily spoken in countries we’re not in direct conflict with - like the UAE and as she mentioned Saudi Arabia (even if she got the prince’s name wrong, we’ll just assume that was a writer error). Which means her relations were diplomatic, not combat, so she has approximately no leg to stand on when throwing around ‘you should do it legally or not at all’ since in reality no, you cannot have a history of being a foreign spy and come retire here in the US, but also - rich, white, female of a country that if she ever gets deported back to isn’t going to behead her on YouTube after torturing her in a public square to serve as a reminder to others who think they could have a chance....well. You can draw your own conclusions on that one. 

Anyway. 

On that note, I actually am really trying to make the character understandable, at least in fanfic, but damn. It’s a goddamn mountain, lemme tell you. 

[kellanved-ammanas]

Snow

It was so cold Sniper had been driven out of his van. He huddled up in the base with a blanket and a hot cup of coffee – he’d brought his whole coffee pot from his van in here just for this. The snow outside was thick and still falling albeit slowly. He hated it with every fiber of his being, if it were possible it’d be the one thing he’d shoot to kill for personal reasons instead of professional.

It was probably warmer deeper into the base instead of the entrance hall but Scout was still out on a scouting mission. Sniper was waiting for him to come back to make sure he was all right. The fact that he’d been sent out after such a heavy blizzard was insane and dumb beyond belief. According to the Administrator it was super important and thus couldn’t wait. Scout was more resilient than he looked though, he’d be fine… probably.

He was already about an hour late though. Which didn’t mean anything bad had happened, the depth of the snow no doubt hampered even his running speed. According to the weather forecast on the radio the snow was due to start picking back up in a few hours so he better come back soon or Sniper would start to worry.

“Still no sign of Scout?”

Sniper turned his head to see Engie leaning into the room, a blanket was pulled tight around his shoulders. Sniper wasn’t the only one freezing his ass off, Heavy was probably the only one who wasn’t too bothered by the cold. Probably Pyro too since it gave him a good excuse to start a fire in the fireplace.

“Not yet,” Sniper answered before taking a drink from his coffee.

“Boy better hurry up, we’re all starting to worry.”

“He’ll be fine.” Scout was tough and he could handle the cold a whole lot better than Sniper could. Sniper was just waiting for him to welcome him back since he deserved that after being forced – he hadn’t truly been forced, he hadn’t even complained much before heading out – to go out in the wretched snow and cold.

Engie frowned and sighed. “I hope so. If he’s not back in the next few hours though someone’s got to go looking for him, it’s supposed to start snowing hard again later tonight.”

“I know.” Sniper did not like the thought of going out in such wretched cold but he’d do it if he had to along with anyone else who wanted to join him.

“Well, I’ll leave you to your vigil then. Be sure to let us know if he comes back, ‘kay?”

Sniper grunted his acknowledgement and Engie left, leaving Sniper alone once more. Supposedly alone anyway, it felt like someone else was in the room with him but he was probably just imagining things.

 -

Another hour passed and the snow kept falling, increasingly harder with every passing minute. Sniper was getting ready to get up and go find some other members of the team – Spy and Heavy, the two most suited to the task for various reasons – to go out and start looking for Scout with him when he spotted something moving in the snow outside through the one-way window.

It was Scout! See? Sniper had been right, he’d only been delayed by the snow and was perfectly fine.

Sniper jumped up and punched in the door code before Scout could put it in himself. The door opened with a thunk and let in a frigid blast of cold and snow that instantly had Sniper feeling like he might be seconds away from freezing solid.

“You have no idea how fucking amazing it is to see you again,” Scout said as he stepped in and thankfully pulled the pushed closed again. He was covered from head to toe in fresh snow and frost. His face was largely hidden by his hat and the thick scarf wrapped around his lower face but what was visible of it was pale with cold. His eyes were smiling though even as a bout of shivers visibly ran through him.

Sniper felt colder just looking at him. “You okay?” he asked.

“Uh… sure, let’s go with ‘yes’. I got the briefcase.” He held it out triumphantly, his other arm still wrapped around his chest. “I didn’t get caught either, so basically I’m the greatest.” If he was able to boast then he was probably mostly okay, just to make sure though…

“Great, let’s go see Medic.”

“Fuck no, I ain’t going to see to Medic right now. And no ‘but’s,” Scout cut Sniper as he opened his mouth to protest. “I’m cold and miserable and I want to change out these clothes and cuddle, not go see Medic and get poked with needles and things before being told that I need to change clothes and warm up. First, I need you to pry this briefcase out of my hand though because I literally can not let go of it. My fingers are frozen.”

Sniper should insist Scout go see Medic anyway to make sure frostbite didn’t set in or hypothermia or anything else bad that happens because of intense cold. But if their situations were reversed, he wouldn’t want to go see Medic right away either. And well, he was right, if nothing was seriously wrong, Medic would send him on his way to change clothes and warm up.

“Fine,” he said with a sigh as he stepped forward to examine the briefcase in Scout’s hand. True to his word his glove looked to have frozen to its handle. The cold was actual hell and winter in this region of the world was one of the few things Sniper truly feared. If it wasn’t for his job, he’d hightail it out of here as soon as physically possible to somewhere sane and never come back. And he’d take poor Scout with him.

Trying not to grimace, he grabbed Scout’s hand with one hand and the briefcase with the other. He was as gentle as he could but Scout still winced when Sniper forcibly separated the two.

Sniper placed the briefcase in slot that would whoosh it to Miss Pauling’s office. “You sure you don’t want to go see Medic?” He asked as he turned back to Scout who was hugging himself with both arms now and still shivering violently. The snow and ice were melting on his clothes, making a small puddle around his feet.

“Yes, I’m sure. I just want to go to my room and change.” He sounded so miserable Sniper couldn’t bring himself to argue. So he lead the way out.

They didn’t run into anyone on the way there. Probably because everyone was in the common room where the fire place was.

“Stay and help me warm up?” Scout asked once they reached his room.

“Of course.” Sniper didn’t even need to be asked. “I’ll go tell the others you’re back while you change clothes, ‘kay?”

Scout nodded and Sniper pulled his hand up to kiss him on the forehead – it was ice cold – before leaving. He headed to the common room where indeed the entire rest of the team was hanging out around the fireplace, Pyro sitting closest of course and enraptured by the fire within. Spy didn’t seem to be there though, he was probably around somewhere doing spy things, whatever those where.

“Scout’s back,” Sniper said, drawing all but Pyro’s attention.

There was a murmur of relief before Medic spoke up as he stood. “Good, bring him to my office, I need to check to see if he has hypothermia and/or frostbite.”

“Uh… later?” Sniper was worried about the possibility of both of those things too but he also sympathized with Scout in his not wanting to get a checkup from Medic right now. So he’d compromise and take him in later unless when he got back to Scout it was undeniable that something was seriously wrong and needed immediate medical attention. “I think he’s mostly fine, just a bit cold.” ‘A bit cold’ was the understatement of the century for sure.

Medic frowned at him. “Fine, but when you’re warming him up cuddle facing each other, it’s more effective for sharing body heat.”

Sniper’s face grew hot and he retreated, he should’ve expected a response like that.

When he returned to Scout’s room, Scout answered seconds after his knock; clearly waiting for him. He’d changed clothes and now wore warm pajamas. He was still shivering though.

“You okay?” Sniper asked.

“Yeah, sort of, just cold. It feels like my bones are made of ice, like the cold sunk into me and froze them solid. I hate it, it’s awful. I never want to go outside again. Cuddle with me.” He grabbed Sniper’s wrist and guided him onto the bed.

He let Scout arrange them how he wanted, wrapped up in a blanket, Scout cuddling into his chest and pressing himself as close as humanly possible. His body was cold and he still shivering intensely, making it less than perfectly comfortable but Sniper didn’t care as long as Scout was okay.

“You’re so warm,” Scout said, sounding like he might be heaven. “You’re the greatest, thank you for existing, and I love you.”

That… was first time Scout had said ‘I love you’. That was a big deal, right? It certainly felt like it. Had it just sort of slipped out or did he really mean it though? It was hard to say with him.

“Something wrong?” Scout asked, pulling back a little. “Am I too cold or…”

“No, nothing’s wrong,” Sniper cut him off, forcing himself to relax a little. “I uh… love you too.” It didn’t matter if Scout had truly meant it or had just sort of said it because Sniper meant it and it felt nice to finally say out loud.

Scout made an unintelligible sound of happiness as he pressed himself close once more. Good. Later Sniper would take him to Medic to make doubly sure was okay but for now they could cuddle for warmth and enjoy each other’s company.

[charlyoddsox27]

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

here goes

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

~~~

~~1. Medic~~

reasons for being my favourite:

• fucking. look. at. him. 👌

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

• cute-ass german accent

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

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

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

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

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

~~2. Spy~~

reasons for being my second favourite:

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

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

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

• masks are hot tbFH--

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

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

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

• "SEDUCE ME."

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

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

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

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

~~3. Pyro~~

reasons for being my third favourite:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~~4. Soldier~~

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

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

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

• HUTTAH *NECK SNAP*

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

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

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

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

~~5. Demoman~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

~~6. Sniper~~

• underrated

• piss jars. piss jars everywhere.

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

• "meet the Sniper" has kickass music

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~~7. Heavy~~

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

• loveable as fuck

• will murder you if you bully his puny little Medic

• i looove Russian accents omfg

• he like big gun. i can respect that.

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

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

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

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

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

• he named his gun Sasha and that's adorable

~~8. Engineer~~

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

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

• smoothest voice in the west

• "y'all"

~~9. Scout~~

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

• shitboy

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

• some genuinely funny bits in the shorts.

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

~~~

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

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

[tf2ships-theewrites]

(Guess this is an AU of TF2 Comics, cause I decided that for this, it was Scout and Pauling that went to Australia to pick up the Sniper! Hope you enjoy!)

(Urgh, If I had the drawing talent, this would’ve been a comic... Oh well! Hope the written version is good enough!)

Scout was debating whether or not to either just park the car like Pauling said, or drive it through Snipers front window. Either option had pros and cons, but both were still worth serious debate.

Grey Mann fired them about six months ago, after taking control of MannCo. Six months, Scout had been in prison for breaking into a bank with spy, long story. And six months was the last time he’d spoken to his... pal, Sniper. ‘Boyfriend it too strong to use for the prick who returns your letters and doesn’t pick up the phone,’ Scout thought bitterly, going for another casual donut-circle in Snipers front lawn.

When Pauling informed the recently rebanded mercs that they needed to find Sniper, Scout hadn’t hesitated and demanded to go with her to pick him his pal. Only about an hour away from the Australians house, did Scout realize how fucking nerve wracking this really was.

He finally turned the ignition off and sputtered to a stop, glaring at the house. Ten minutes had gone by, and no Pauling and no tall Australian had come out yet...

Which means it was time for the Bostonian to go in.

Scout hopped out and jogged in. Like a dummy he was, he decided to leave his baseball bat, and strode up the creaky porch steps to his pal’s home. He hesitated at the door, before narrowing his eyes when he realized it was slightly ajar. Throwing caution to the wind and his irritation rising, Scout barged into the home. “YO! Sommebody bettah have a DAMN good reason to waste my time!” He snapped, then blinked as he looked around the interior of the home. “Damn...”

It was dark, dusty and Miss Pauling was unconscious and tied up in the living ro-

...

“Oh SHIT.” Scout whispered-yelped, lunging over and shaking the woman. “Pauling, PAULING! Ah, c’mon...” He glanced around for a knife or something, strings of violent curses poring out of his mouth. He stood and ducked around the hallway, trying on the light switch for what he hoped was the kitchen.

Flicking the switch didn’t work, so he held his arms out, hoping to run into a counter or something as he squinted in the sunset-dimly lighted room. “C’mon, c’mon...” Scout muttered, praying to run into something.

Instead, something ran into him from behind, wrapping its long, strong arms around his chest and neck, yanking him back. The Bostonian cried out, nails snapping to the arm around his neck, digging into the skin. “H-hey, HEY!! Lettme go you f*cker!”

“’right, Alright, girlie..” The gruff, thick accented voice behind him muttered, and Scout felt the cold press of a needle tip against his neck. “Let’s go for a lil’ dirt na-” Scout decided no to that, and bit down on the man’s arm with his buckteeth.

“ARGH, Dammit!” The man shoved him away, and Scout swung around to kick the guy’s ass to the ruins of Atlantis... Then he saw the familiar croc-tooth lined hat, crooked yellow aviator glasses and those stupid, clear blue eyes looking back at him...

“Oh my god. Ren?”

Lawrence Mundy blinked and straightened, still gripping his bitten arm. “Jerm?” The Australian sniper grinned, eyes lighting up for a moment. “Babe, wha... how...” His eyes widened and the the grin faded as Scout finally found the knife he was looking for. “Ah, sh*t.” Scout let out an enraged scream, launching himself at the taller Australian.

“Urgh, Babe, BABE! n-Now, lets just, CALM DOWN.”

“LIKE HELL YOU LIVING STICK! Imma shove this cleaver so far into ya, ya won’t be blinkin’ for the next century!”

“Oh, bloody hell...”

The aggressive wrestling went on for a few more minute, until Sniper wisened up and tackled his smaller boyfriend to the ground. “Alright, Babe, please!” He snapped, pinning the younger man down. “Can ya just listen for two seconds, ‘m askin’ ya nicely!” Scout snarled, trying to catch him with his cleaver -armed hand, but sniper snapped out to grab the offending arm and pin it down, though he was fighting for control. “Nah, ya don’ get to explain sh*t! Where have ya BEEN?!” Sniper blinked, then frowned. “Well... been here.”

Scout snarled, making another lunge at him, “Nuh-uh, explain the letters sent back, explain the frickin’ phone calls! Ya got a lot of explainin’ ta do, Ren, now start talkin’!” Sniper exhaled deeply, before nodding. “If ya stop calm the hell down, the yes.” Scout glared, and the two looked at each other for a long moment, before he finally released his knife, raising his brow in expectation.

“My parents... passed on a few months ago.” Sniper starts and Scout scoffs, “Tragic, I was in jail with Spy.” He snapped, not caring about how insensitive he sounded. Sniper rolled his eyes, what else was he expecting. “Well, turns out I... I wasn’t their son.” At this, the Bostonian actually blinked in surprise, and Sniper took that as a go-ahead. “Been tryin’ to find my birth parents, figure out... who I am.” Scout gave a small smile, “So some self-discovery crap?” Sniper chuckled, and some of the tension eased. “Yeah, somethin’ like that...”

“Still doesn’t explain ignorin’ me.” Scout said gloomily, and Sniper winced. “Guess I just... got caught up.” He said lamely, and Scout rolled his eyes, avoiding his apologetic grin. It dropped slightly, before the Australian ducked down, lightly kissing the Bostonian on the nose.

“‘m sorry.’

“Hmph.”

Another between his brows. “’m sorry.”

“This ain’t workin’ for me.”

“’m sorry.” 

“... Nope. Nothin’.”

Forehead was next, then his cheek, then the other one...

Sniper continued this charade for a moment, before leaning over the blonde, breath ghosting above his lips. “’m sorry.” He muttered, and Scout was stone faced for a minute... Before sighing. “Dammit, that’s cheatin’.” He whined, and Sniper only grinned in triumph, sealing their lips in a long awaited kiss.

Sniper hummed agaisnt the man, almost melting back into the familer act. Then, he happened to remember the tied up woman he had to question before burying in a shallow grave. Withan almost mournful grumble, he pulled back and jabbed his boyfriend in the neck with a moonshine filled syringe.

Scout snapped his eyes open, and Sniper only grinned slightly. “Sorry love, don’ want ya up and about for what ‘m gonna do. We’ll catch up later.” He promised, sealing one last kiss as Scout struggled to keep his eyes open, before the sudden overwhelming alcohol count filling his system sent him into probably one of the quietest drunken slumbers in his life.

‘Stupid Aussie,’ Scout thought, and though he swore to kick Mundy to the next century, he couldn’t help but feel happy to be back around his... Pal.