Weapons Tw - Blog Posts

I'm taking reccomendations for flowers and/or weapons to do this with. I felt the need to do some digital painting recently. Please click on a picture to see it defined.

6th March, 2021

𝔲𝔫𝔦𝔠𝔬𝔯𝔫 𝔰𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 ＆ 𝔡𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔬 𝔡𝔯𝔞𝔤𝔬𝔫 𝔰𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 ༺⚔️༻

Oops!...I Did It Again 😳👉👈

Tw for a fair bit of blood, so I’ll put it under a read more.

@hawtowo​ 

I wasn’t kidding about wanting to draw these two interacting somehow! :D

 I actually spent a lot of my breaks today drawing this, because I really wanted to make something with more substance to it, especially seeing as you’ve been doing a lot of stuff for people lately! This took 4-5 or more hours, I’m not entirely sure exactly how long but it was a WHILE to figure out how to do my workflow in clip studio. This is actually my very first fully colored/lined drawing in this program that hasn’t been just an experimental thing or a flat color icon or something.

Your art is stunning, dude! I- trips and falls and all the love comes tumbling out of my pockets.

Reasons to love Heavy TF2

(Hey if anyone has the source of whoever posted this particular gif of meet the heavy, let me know and I’ll update!)

I wasn’t kidding when I said I was overwhelmed with love for heavy for no particular reason. Heavy appreciation post with additions from suggests discord server members! :]

Makes very very good sandwiches and is able to share with others, very generous and kind

protects everyone at all costs

Russian

has a PhD in Russian literature

incredibly intelligent yet also muscle man

brawny and bear-like

could crush a man then hug you gently

very huggable, 100/10

cares a lot for his family

worries over his family a lot, but gives them the benefit of the doubt when they say they’re okay and can do things on their own

encourages his family members and teammates to practice self care, be strong, pursue their goals, etc.

reads a lot, would be nice to read together with him in a dimly lit room by a fire

could pick you up with one hand

you’d have to be picked up or be on a ladder to kiss him (very positive trait)

trains a lot and is serious about his job

team player, great at getting things done

reliable in anything, especially knowledgable in subjects and great at doing heavy lifting

allows birds to sit on his gun despite being very particular about its appearance and who is allowed to touch Sasha.

trusting of everyone, and also trustworthy because of it.

not afraid to try new things or put his trust in someone who others may not want to (Ex. Medic)

gentle giant in general, could pet doves without much trouble despite having such huge hands

large hands, probably calloused from how hard he works!

Also wears very cool gloves.

very muscular!!! Can carry around Sasha and his other miniguns despite them being incredibly heavy and expensive to fire

patient as well!!!

mother hen instinct, probably makes a mean soup for those who have colds

can probably also bake very well because of his culture and upbringing-

he is the heavy weapons guy what’s not to love!!!

More Spy gifs from The Red, the Blu, and the Ugly! 

Me, sending out loud shouts telepathically through the computer screen: Please please pretty please keep sending headcanon prompts I have lots of really good ones but don’t mind me I am going to continue hoarding them like a dragon to treasure-

Late night post but that’s okay. This is sort of a comfort(?) post based on a fic I read that made me think about this.

The night out in the desert can get chilly at times, and incredibly dark. Walking out there, shoes crunching against gravel as the crickets sing, the one place you’ll usually find light is Sniper’s van.

Usually he takes his time later into the evening and night to himself, away from the other mercs to sharpen his weapons, listen to the radio, engage in hobbies or just stare at the wall, relax.

If you were to knock and enter, friend or s/o- he’d allow you in seeing as you’re there rather late, perfectly fine with spending a quiet bit of time with you to just... be there with each other, maybe with you leaning on his shoulder or side for comfort.

That’s not what this headcanon is about though, it’s the fact that the light in his van is definitely incredibly yellow in contrast to the outside, not white but yellow. The orangey, warm tones that wrap around the inside of the van make for the ideal place to rest, think, sleep... not to mention compared to the outside chill, it’s slightly heated, not quite stuffy, but warm and nice to sit inside. Not toasty, but not normal room temperature either.

Being a camper van, there’s not loads of space inside, but it’s not quite cramped either. Storage is off to the sides, there’s a mini fridge, a small area to cook food... the bed is a nest of worn blankets, old pillows and maybe an item or two, such as the smaller kukri he has hidden between the mattress and the wall facing the front of the van.

Basically, it’s like a light at night during a camping trip, the blankets feel almost akin to a very well built sleeping bag (mega comfy ykno), everything there is distinctly his...

Wow ok am I touch starved or what?

i am

How would Spy react to not being able to find his knife, only to see some little kid messing with it?

LET ME SEE WHAT YOU HAVE,

A KNIFE!

NO!

SMALL CHILD WIELDS SHARP OBJECT, LOCAL SPY CONFOUNDED!

His first feelings would likely be of confusion, anger, followed by seething rage when he noticed his knife was missing. After all, he was the Spy, no filthy pickpocket could simply take it. There was no way he had forgotten it either, as he triple checked his belongings and kept them on his person at all times. Being in public, there was no way for Spy to necessarily do much about it. He couldn’t just shout “WHERE IS MY KNIFE?!” To the world, and so he forces a deep breath and begins to search, splitting off from the team and looking about without garnering attention, as if he were merely a tourist.

At first, he had expected to be looking for any suspicious individuals, not anyone barely up to his middle in height. Yet, after a minute or two of scanning the room, there had been no other options, and right there. A lone child, holding a knife.

They were practically begging to be yelled at, dragged by the ear and taken to their guardians for such a bold defiance of all things he held dear, yet… It seemed the child had no parents in their midst. They were enthralled by the blade, flicking it between their fingers and trying to get the butterfly knife to do a trick or two, the light metal clattering far less satisfyingly in their smaller hands. Yet, while not masterful, the little kid treated the weapon with respectful caution, lacking precision but aware that their plaything was dangerous and sharp.

Spy found himself staring, rather than doing anything about it. Nothing about their appearance resembled his son, it wasn’t as if he had reason to not snatch it away and be done with it, yet here he was. Perhaps he saw a bit of his younger self in their eyes, or in the way they had healthy caution for the unknown, yet played with it anyway. 

Eventually, he exhaled and wandered over to the child, unsure what angle with which to approach the situation. Putting out his cigarette and kneeling down to get to eye level, he left a hand outstretched for them to return the knife, frowning.

“This is mine, mon petit, may I have it back…?

The child seems afraid, immediately shocked that they were caught. They shake their head, mumbling a “noo…”

“And why is that?” He has to force himself to be patient. Interacting with children is not his forte, but perhaps it feels like a second chance.

 Reminding himself this is a stranger, but unwilling to walk away without at least getting his knife back, and giving the child reason not to do such a thing again.

They blink, looking down at the butterfly knife. “Cause it’s pretty and feels good to use… Whus your accent from? S’all sounds pretty...”

Spy, shocked by the answer, goes silent, before sighing.

“Well, it is unwise to play with dangerous objects, mon ami. And… It is French. Do you know French?”

“My momma was from France! I knew I recognized th’ talking…”

“And where is she now..?”

The child’s expression immediately falls, and Spy needs no verbal answer to know what may have happened.

“Have you any other guardians?”

They shake their head, pointing down the road towards the old orphanage, shrugging sadly.

“Don’ matter, s'alright…”

There was the anger again, but now tenfold. Not at this child, but at himself. Of course he had to converse with the child, feel protective, now look at him. He had a job to do, he should have just grabbed the knife and went on with his day. 

When they finished talking, and Spy had left, there was a hollow feeling in his chest. Guilt, was it? Insecurity? Knowing the effect of not being present, it felt as if perhaps he was being given a second chance, yet he wasn’t sure how willing he was to throw it away.

Returning to the base, there were quite a few phone calls made to Miss Pauling, then the Administrator herself. Paperwork, negotiations, how in gods name would he work this out- Convincing Miss Pauling to allow a child into the base-- so long as battles were separate and hidden from their view, had been a breeze, but it was the Administrator, a cold, cruel hag of a woman whom he knew would take issue with the idea. It was to the point that he had been conversing through the night, even just in his white button up and suit pants, but he continued to talk.

What would his teammates think? He dreaded to find out, he merely hoped none of them would question it or tease him, but he knew he would come under fire, if only because he was the Spy, an uncaring, cold, emotionless figure.

At the very least, he knew he had time to pass, since the time in which it would take to get the paperwork in order, a new room built, etcetera, would give him ample time to learn more about who it is he was about to bring to the base.

That next day, a child wakes up to a gift by an unknown donator, all they know is it was a man with a vest and tie, with salt and pepper hair, inside of which is the materials to make the popsicle stick butterfly knife, a soft rabbit plushie, and a note written in a very simple cipher for them to solve.

“Pack your things in two weeks, If you see a woman in purple, she is your friend.”

support class with a clingy and needy s/o? like always wants to be with them, sitting on their lap, holding hands, etc but also is careful not to annoy them too much

Support Classes with a Clingy S/O?

I hope I got the gist of this ask, I think I might have derailed just a bit but hopefully this is what you were looking for! 

Image is from tf2gallery!

Medic:

Honestly, his experiments can certainly get loud at times, and the infirmary having as many doves in it as it does, having his future S/O there wasn’t quite an issue.

It was their constant need to be next to him that he was baffled by. Wielding sharp tools for surgery, he now had to be mindful that there was somebody directly beside him as they watched intently. Eventually, he tried finding ways to make them comfortable, seeing as they seemed to enjoy his enthusiasm-- (And having someone who was less terrified of him was a welcome change, if not a bit worrying for other reasons), it always seemed to bring his future S/O back beside him.

He’s learned that the doves can do most of the work for him, serving as feathery distractions for them to interact with, but he eventually learns that just being there and around for this person seems to keep them at ease. Why he seems to seek them out too when stressed he can’t quite understand…

Well, no matter! That wasn’t all there was to talk about.

Outside of the infirmary, he found that his S/O tended to stick behind him or close to his side, straying away from the others as if afraid. Surely they had their priorities backwards, but who is he to complain? Being the team Medic, he’s often blamed for the decisions and mistakes others have made, not being able to be everywhere at once. The trust his S/O put into him was a welcome change.

Having them in his lap and sort of keeping him away from his office to de-stress had to have been the biggest change to get used to. Despite this, he feels as if he gets more work done, as it gives him the chance to recharge and think of- then look forwards to all of the experiments he could perform and the wild changes he could make to his teammates. At first, he hadn’t been willing to, but now it seemed to be just another part of life.

Hey, while you’re with him, could you remind him to wash his gloves, though? He keeps staining your shirt with blood.

Sniper:

Sniper, being somebody who’s always worked alone, even whilst in a team environment, was baffled by his S/O at first. 

Why wouldn’t he be? He’s been isolated all these years as he silently took headshots from across the map, and now you’ve waltzed up and into his life without warning.

He certainly doesn’t mind it after a week or two, but at first he’s a bit put off by it. He’s not used to the constant need for contact, social interaction, but the sweet conversations you two have are more than enough to convince him to stay. Eventually getting to know each other better, he learns to love the attention.

Sometimes he’ll snipe with you in his lap, though it has to be if he knows he won’t be approached much that game, or if he’s not trying out a new position to snipe from.

Funnily enough, with you approaching him as much as you do, it becomes more difficult for Spy to creep up behind him with a second pair of eyes sweeping the room and shifting a man with tunnel vision into a much more active, aware man.

When he can’t be there, he’ll always spend extra time after battle with his S/O, sitting in silence while doing something like sharpening his kukri, drinking homemade tea or cider, polishing his boots, or just being wrapped up under a blanket in the van.

Spy:

Spy, at first, was very much driven away by the forwardness of their S/O. But as time went on, and they continued to stay close to him, he began to wonder why it was that his S/O trusted him so much.

So, giving it a shot, he, in private mind you, allows his S/O to sit beside him? Yes, that would do. Perhaps it would satiate their constant nagging for attention. Yet oddly enough, whenever he seemed to show frustration over it- a break in his character, they’d quiet down and frown, immediately backing off.

This respect of space strengthened his trust in you. After all, one must always exercise extreme caution around Spy, and the lack of it had begun to wear him down. But when it became clear you had no intention of annoying him, respecting his boundaries and stepping away when need be, it allowed him to think more of what you meant to him.

He still freezes up in public at times when his S/O decides to hold his hand. Walking closely beside him was one thing, but hand holding seemed so… Unnatural, to him. 

Yet, he holds onto their hand anyway! No matter what looks it may garner him, a steely glare is usually enough to push back bystanders. He will protect you, knowing that while you may be misguided in who you choose to trust, that he’ll pay back simple kindness with fierce loyalty.

The longer the two of you spend together, the less space tends to matter. He’ll allow his S/O to sit in his lap so long as they don’t ruin his suit, normally he tends to wear the button up with the sleeves rolled up beneath it instead whilst on his own anyway. Still, it amuses him seeing his S/O resting against his chest, almost catlike in their contentment to stay there. Why they chose a Spy of all people, he’s yet to wrap his head around that one.

wickedpotions​:

✧･ﾟ　  ┊　  ┊　  ┊  ZSASZ && YENNEFER

┊　  ┊　  ┊　  ┊　  ┊

ZSASZ DUG BEHIND THE REGISTER, PROCURING THE BAG OF GUMMY BEARS HE KEPT THERE.  he tore one of the heads off, watching the woman look over the other weapons.  Kai raised his head with interest, but didn’t move from his post by the register.   Zsasz suspected that something he’d said had bothered the woman a bit, though he couldn’t pinpoint which bit it was.  And really, he wouldn’t try unless she brought it up.

❝ WELL, WEIRD IS RELATIVE.  for me, the supernatural is weird.  Vampires, werewolves, witches - they aren’t really supposed to exist.  I mean, I suppose there’s Zatanna and people like her who use some form of magic.  But it’s different where I’m from.  Other people might find the constant disappearances weird, but I’m from a city that’s run by villains.  People disappear all the time. ❞

⊱ ──────────── {⋆⌘⋆} ──────────── ⊰

Had this been The Continent, Yennefer wouldn’t have stuck around long enough for the shopkeep to say more than two words to her. They were always so dreadfully dull, she was liable to fall asleep where she stood. But this was Earth, and Ciri had encouraged her to make friends, or at least be a little more friendly with people, so she would linger for the time being.

She was ‘weird’ to him, then. Suppressing a grin, she held her hand out a few inches from her body, palm up. A moment later, the next gummy-victim between his fingers appeared there. There were no theatrics to the display, save the faint smell of lilac and gooseberries in the air, which dissipated a few moments later (a side affect of being on Earth, and part of the reason she was slightly concerned with her chaos not obeying her). 

Yennefer laughed as she popped it in her mouth, “All cities are run by villains. They’re called politicians.” She knew that well enough, having spent three decades serving a king’s court, and the subsequent four bouncing between all sorts of towns to do work for their leaders. “People disappear everywhere, it seems. Tell me, the way you speak-- the theatrics, the talk of the importance of multitasking, the owning a weapons shop-- I take it you’re one of those villains then?” She wasn't scared nor accusatory, merely intrigued.