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presidentbungus · 1 year

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after the war, engy calls spy. there are emotions involved. 1647 words

ao3

The phone rings.

Spy, standing to put away his book (he won't be needing it for the rest of the night, he supposes), waits for his caller to speak first, which as usual doesn't take long.

"Bonjour." He can practically hear the lopsided smile forming over the other end of the line. "May I ask who I'm speakin' to?"

"You were the one who called me, no?" He snuffs his cigarette out on an ashtray carefully placed on the windowsill and looks out onto the lights of the city. It's almost enough to make him miss seeing the stars, the way they were out in the desert. "Engineer, need I remind you that I specifically stated this line for emergencies?"

"You say that every time you pick up and ya still keep pickin' up…"

"And need I remind you, Engineer, that Paris is six hours ahead of your time, and that you are calling me at two AM."

"Seven," he says softly. "Seven hours. You weren't asleep, huh."

There are few things Spy hates more than the tone he tends to get when he asks those questions. "You could have woken me up."

"Could have."

He knows there's nothing else to say, really. "… I promise I'm managing without your tenacious insistence."

The sigh that comes rattling over the line makes him want to tear out his eyes, maybe. "Sure. Well, uh… how's everything else going? Smooth, I hope?"

"The status of my operations is classified…" Pause just long enough to hear him start to protest… "But yes, my day was alright."

"Just alright?"

"It was good."

"That's good."

Better, now that you called me.

… That sounds like something he'd say. Spy taps his fingers against the windowsill, letting himself lean against it even if his suit probably shouldn't be touching the plaster. "… Mmm-hmm. And I presume it is the same for you?"

"Yeah. Um, Medic finally wrote me back—got some country's various officials on his tail, I guess, so he told me he's coming down here and I guess we're gonna fake his death again."

"What's the current count?"

"Fourth… or fifth time. I think this time we're just gonna drop his coat in a river and call it good."

"Ingenious." (Pause for the 'shut up' rattling over the line). "And you're sure it'll work?"

"Yeah, sure. Some point they have to give up, right?"

Spy snorts. "Giving up is not a particular talent of a good number of international governments."

"Well, I didn't ask for your opinion, so how about that." There's a pause, then: "What about you, you got any word from anyone else?"

"Mmm… Scout's been sending me letters… it would be touching, if I could read them."

"If anyone could break through the impenetrable wall of Scout's handwriting, Spy, it'd be you. What's he saying?"

What to paraphrase? "That I still stink, that he's finding a bittersweet place in his old home as what I imagine to be a horrible uncle to his sibling’s children, that I should be paying three times as much for child support… and that, regrettably, he misses me and thinks that I should return home for the holidays.”

“Aw. You better make the trip.”

“If work permits,” Spy says, which by now Engie probably knows means: I’ll think about it. “What about you, laborer? Grand plans for Christmas?”

“Well…” He chuckles mischievously, which is a bad sign. “Actually, yeah. I’ve been cookin’ something up for a hot second. Don’t ask ‘cause it’s a secret.”

“Alright.”

Three, two, one…

“You piss me right off sometimes.”

“Gracias.”

“I’m gonna, uh… y’know, it hasn’t really worked out before, but I already got RSVP’s from most of everyone…”

“Oh no, don’t tell me.”

“Y’know how I always wanted to do a big ol’ team reunion? Well Scout was already inviting everyone he had an address for, so, like… might as well…”

“He didn’t invite me.”

“He did, he just didn’t say it was a team reunion ‘cause we were worried you’d try and weasel out of it.” He pauses for a second. “For the record, I wasn’t supposed to tell you.”

“Mmm.”

There’s a pause, for a little too long, and then: “Please just come, Spy. It’d mean a lot to Scout.”

“Just Scout?”

… That was more over the line than he usually goes. Whoops.

“I mean… I’d like to see you in person too. For once.”

Still lighthearted, but there’s a bit of bitterness there. Spy feels like he might’ve messed something up. “I see.”

“… Well… okay. Call me back whenever you’re ready to give an actual answer.”

He takes offense to this, but not enough to risk saying anything about it. “I will.”

“You’re just… you just get under my skin sometimes, y’know?”

“Hm?”

“All those little half-answers and… little digs, makin’ it hard to tell what you mean or not, like… is it that hard to just give a yes or no once in a while?”

Spy purses his lips, and apparently doesn’t give an answer fast enough, because Dell continues:

“It’s just… sometimes talking to you is a puzzle. And it used to be a fun puzzle but now it just gets exhausting, and I don’t goddamn know what goes on in your head but it just feels like apathy, or fear, or just period in general dislike—“

“What do you mean?”

“I’m telling you what I mean. Scout wants you to go home and see some people who care about you for the first time in ages and you won’t even answer me when I ask you to tell me if you’ll come or not…”

“You didn’t ask, you just implied a question—“

“And most people would pick up the goddamn question,” he barks. “What, do you need me to ask it explicitly? Look, are you coming or not? Yes or no?”

His chest burns, a little. “… Yes. Fine.”

“Good. Great. That wasn’t hard.”

“Dell, if you don’t enjoy calling me then you shouldn’t feel obligated to call me.”

He knows Dell enjoys calling him for some bizarre reason—and he knows this isn’t the issue, but it squirms out of his mouth anyway, in the way a lot of things do now. He knows there are a lot of things this is about. He can’t quantify anything specifically and he doesn’t want to.

The silence lasts a little too long, and it’s cutting. “You don’t think that’s what this is about, do you?”

Spy keeps his mouth shut.

He sighs. “I’m just… obviously I’d stop calling you if it was a problem, Spy. You know that.”

Of course he knows. He worries about it every night.

“There are some bits I like about you and there are some bits I don’t like. Same as everybody else. Fortunately for you, there are enough bits I like that I keep coming back—“ he laughs—“because I do enjoy talkin’ to you, even if the bits I don’t like are really goddamn infuriating sometimes.”

“…”

“And I’m, just… you’ve… god, how do I phrase it. Look, I know we’ve reached the time of night where you start shutting down, and I don’t need any more in-depth out of you, alright?”

“… Okay.”

He’s silent for a little bit. “Don’t ever imply again that I don’t like you, okay? ‘Cause I do. More than you…” He trails off. “Probably think.”

“Okay. I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright. And just… I dunno. I think you’re afraid of me sometimes, and I don’t get it, but I guess sometimes I just don’t get things and that’s fine. But if there’s anything you can do to get it through your head that you’re safe with me, however you define it—just—try it, okay?”

Spy rubs his eyes and his hands come away wet. “I… don’t… know.”

“I know. It’s fine.”

“… Okay.”

“A little bit of vulnerability once in a while ain’t gonna kill you, okay?”

“I know.”

“Do you want me to let you go now?”

He’s sobbing, now. Dell can probably hear it over the phone. “I think so.”

“Okay, Spy. If you need anything else you know where to find me.” He pauses. “Look forward to seeing you there. See if Scout left a date in the letters, and if he didn’t let me know so I can tell you when to be down there. All good?”

Spy hangs up, and stumbles over to his bed, and collapses, cringing when he feels his suit-collar wet with tears against his neck.

Damn it all to hell. Part of him just wants to get his number changed, move addresses, disappear into the ether (which is what he’s good at, anyway)—but the other part, stubborn and treacherous—the part Dell put there—tells him that he couldn’t do that to what are, regrettably, the only people who really care for him. Who care for him for stupid, dangerous, inexplicable reasons, but who care for him all the same, and who he unfortunately cares for as well.

In the end, he knows the conclusion he’s going to reach about Dell before he even starts analyzing the conversation line-by-line like he usually tends to do; it’s the same conclusion he reaches every single time, that he feels more for Dell than he should and it’s probably the same the other way around. He just desperately, desperately wishes he were brave enough to act on it, and he dreads the day that one of them finally does.

He’s still crying like a toddler when he tumbles into uneasy darkness, too exhausted to dream, and when he wakes up five hours later in a puddle of drool he knows something’s changed, and he just hopes it’s for the better, whatever that means.

Dell will call him again tonight. He won’t be ready, but it’ll be fine, because it’s Dell. He will not ponder the implications of this statement.

#I wrote 1200 words of this in one sitting lol #on a roll. something like that #bungus snippets #bungus fics #why not both #tf2 spy #tf2 engineer #engiespy #napoleon complex #tf2

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yemilnisu · 3 years

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INCORRECT HAIKYUU QUOTES FROM BUZZFEED UNSOLVED

nisu entries:

i got this idea from @memekingofwwiii and some of it are theirs 🙇🏻‍♀️ thank you for letting me add it here 😊 it’s a mixture from buzzfeed unsolved supernatural and true crime 👀 i really had fun doing this!

warning: swearing, mentions of death/murder/killing/blood/weed

「part 2」

Tendou: i did have a neighbor who had an overhang of a lime tree, and it was great because i could go pick a little lime.

Ushijima: did you ever think about killing your neighbor?

Tendou: when he didn't give me limes, yeah.

Ushijima: oh, okay; all right.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Matsukawa: this is my bridge now, if you want it back you’re gonna have to kill me.

Oikawa: he did throw someone off the bridge once.

Matsukawa: fuck you, goatman!

Oikawa: Jesus Christ.

Kunimi: *behind the camera snickering as mattsun taunts the goatman much to oikawa’s dismay*

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Matsukawa: hey demons, it’s me, ya boi.

Matsukawa: if you want to eat my heart, turn that light on. If you want to eat oikawa’s heart, turn that light on...

Oikawa: don’t drag me into your shit, mattsun.

*torch turns on*

Oikawa: *screams*

Matsukawa: *laughs hysterically as he continues to lie on the pentagram*

Kunimi: *actual wheezing*

Matsukawa: i think this demon’s a wimp.

Oikawa: he’s out of his fucking mind.

Kunimi: *having the time of his life*

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Oikawa: every human's capable of murder if you push them enough. i just don't know if this is enough of a push.

Iwaizumi: okay.

Oikawa: it's true!

Iwaizumi: is that so?

Oikawa: yeah.

Oikawa: i bet you you would murder me if I pushed you enough.

Iwaizumi: yeah, probably.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Tsukishima: …

Tsukishima: so, you're telling me, at nine years old, you don’t go to church. the first time you cross the threshold into holy ground,

Nishinoya: *makes noise and imitates blood coming out of his nose*

Tsukishima: blood expels from your nostrils?

Nishinoya: yeah, yeah. they ran outta tissues! mopping that up.

Tsukishima: …

Nishinoya: it was wild!

Tsukishima: it sounds wild.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Kuroo: i think it was the neighbor. look, i’m a simple man. i see a trail of blood going to someone's house. even if they didn't do it, come on; you're going to jail.

Kenma: i think it might've been a random person.

Kuroo: all right.

Kenma: it just seems too obvious.

Kuroo: okay.

Kenma: there's a paper trail of their feud. why the hell would he be that dumb?

Kuroo: rage, you know? lust, rage. rage just- just building up, bursting out.

Kenma: well, i've never really gotten that angry. i don't really have that capacity.

Kuroo: it's building. it's building inside you. everyone sees it; we all see it.

Kenma: that's great. oh man, i can't wait for krakatoa then.

Kuroo: *shuddering* oh- oh- i shudder.

Kenma: hope no one's in the way 😺

Kuroo: …

Kuroo: scary.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Daichi: he allegedly chased his mother with an axe when he was 19.

Asahi: not great.

Daichi: (wheeze) no? not off- off to a bad start?

Asahi: no good. i’ve never done that. you didn’t do that did you?

Daichi: no! i didn't- what- is there anything to suggest that I would chase my mom with an axe?

Asahi: (inhales) not outright i feel like if you peel the layers back.

Daichi: you think if you peel the layers back from this onion, you'll see something you don’t want to see?

Asahi: yeah. i think you wear a mask sometimes 😅

Daichi: mm-hmm i think you should keep digging and maybe see what happens 🙂

Asahi: uh no i'm good 🧍🏻‍♂️

Daichi: *staring at asahi*

Asahi: 👁👄👁💧

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Osamu: my takeaway is people from chicago are weird.

Atsumu: the- this does not represent chicago. this is people and go "ey! chicago tylenol murders"

Osamu: (laugh) home with the beam, the cubs and the chicago tylenol murders and of course our nation's greatest tragedy, miya atsumu.

Atsumu: that- that's not me.

Osamu: i read it somewhere 🤷🏻

Atsumu: no, you didn’t, you probably wrote it.

Osamu: yeah.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Suna: i’d love to be an heiress.

Kita: (snickers)

Suna: i know she’s probably gonna disappear or something.

Kita: so you wanna be a trust fund baby?

Suna: i’d like someone to give me a lot of money for doing nothing. but i want-

Kita: and then you wanna disappear?

Suna: yes. i want to get a lot of money and then vanish from the face of the earth.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Ennoshita: her family believed that when she left at 11:30 am, she had as much as $30 in her purse, which in today’s dollars would be more than $750.

Nishinoya: holy moly!

Tanaka: that’s a lot of quiche—

Nishinoya: yeah.

Tanaka: that’s a lot of quiche.

Nishinoya: thirty bucks going that far in 1910.

Tanaka: i don’t even have $750 in my bank account.

Nishinoya: i’ve never had $750 in my pocket! i rarely have had $30 in my pocket.

Ennoshita: well i don’t really carry cash anymore-

Nishinoya & Tanaka: who does!?

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Yaku: stop number one, mothman statue.

Lev: it looks very ornate.

Yaku: *shocked that lev knows that word*

Yaku: you’ll be able to stare at it eye to eye.

Lev: what’s that supposed to mean?

Yaku: it means you’re eight feet tall, it’s a tall joke. get it?

Lev: 🧍🏼

Yaku: 🤦🏼‍♂️

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Akaashi: any... any thought in that so far?

Bokuto: (fart sound) nope. what year is it, ‘66?

Akaashi: ‘66.

Bokuto: few teens out there probably smoking a few funny cigarettes.

Akaashi: you could say weed. it’s 2018.

Bokuto: ...some grass.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Kageyama: so my guess is the couples were somewhere around here, maybe on that road over there.

Hinata: yeah.

Kageyama: and i'm not sure of the exact location but this is where they saw him stumbling around.

Hinata: they just… saw him kinda shambling?

Kageyama: yeah.

Hinata: big shambling man. kinda *shuffling his body*

Kageyama: i- i don’t know, maybe he was just taking a walk, i mean, what's it to you?

Hinata: why would you take a walk if you had wings?

Kageyama: he's a fucking creature, he can do what he wants.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Kuroo: but all im saying is that what you need to gather from this is that he has an effect on people's psyche.

Lev: this mothman's a complicated character.

Kuroo: what does he sound like? what does he sound like?

Lev: he sound like the blood bird.

Kuroo: …

Lev: flappy spookster.

Kuroo: …

Kuroo: that's- come on.

Kuroo: *glances over to lev's notes*

Lev: the winged wretch. did i already say that?

Kuroo: this just says fright terror.

Kuroo: *throws away the notes*

Lev: you know, just call him batman, why is that hard? 😩

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

(howling)

Goshiki: what the fuck.

Shirabu: well those are coyotes… or dogs. Or a large pack of something.

Goshiki: holy shit.

Shirabu: just some coyotes.

Goshiki: are you not fucking alarmed right now?

Shirabu: are you scared? (laugh)

Goshiki: dude wait- this goes beyond belief, that was a pack of, whatever the fuck that was.

Shirabu: it was coyotes!

Goshiki: is that our cue to leave? i think maybe. we've been out here for quite a bit.

Shirabu: yeah, i don’t know if were gonna find anything tonight.

Goshiki: i don’t wanna be in the mouth of some coyote later, that's not how i want the picture wrap on old tsutomu to be.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Atsumu: air force one? they filmed air force one here?

Atsumu: air force one actually, now that i think of it, remember the reason they hijacked the plane is to release for the-

Sakusa: i’m gonna go ahead and cut you off right there 'cause i don’t give a shit.

Sakusa: we’re gonna move over here.

Atsumu: …okay.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Kai: four people in a cell, that's a lot

Kuroo: i mean, you put any normal people in a room that's too small. like if you’re in a dorm in college, if you hate your roommate…

Kai: it's tough business

Kuroo: listening to music too loud when i'm trying to study

Kai: hwfrrrrr…

Kuroo: cookin' uhh… top ramen in the microwave when i'm trying to sleep

Kai: you got some axes to grind?

Kuroo: no.

Kai: oh

Kuroo: fuck you, daishou.

Kai: daishou?

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

(distant thud)

Yamamoto: what the fuck?

Kenma: :3

Yamamoto: is all i have to say to that.

Kenma: they didn’t like the thumb talk.

Yamamoto: you didn't like the thumb talk? was it too much thumb talk? i thought we went about two minutes long on the-

(distant thud)

Kenma: they don’t like the thumb talk.

Yamamoto: *looking around in shock*

Kenma: *stopping himself from laughing*

Yamamoto: uhhhh… holy fuck. holy fuck, holy fuck. if you’re one of the people that had that thumb thing to happen to you, that sucks. what was it like?

Kenma: what do you think you're gonna get right now? 😑

Yamamoto: i feel like we should go see what that is, to be honest.

Kenma: *shakes his head*

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Tsukishima: we’re walking over to the source of the disturbance.

Hinata: hello? (sigh) i’m gonna lose my mind. so, it did that twice within the span of 10 seconds but nothing else?

Tsukishima: but, we can confirm that it did sound like this right? *slams the cabinet door*

Hinata: yeah.

Tsukishima: that was the sound.

Hinata: do you think the wind’s gonna do that twice?

Tsukishima: *blows on the cabinet door*

Tsukishima: not moving 🙄

Hinata: well, shit.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Sugawara: oh there it is. it’s that. *pointing to where the sound was coming from*

Asahi: what?

Sugawara: there’s a logical explanation for you.

Asahi: ah! okay, there it is. well, there you go, there you go.

Sugawara: but, if we hadn’t seen that...

Asahi: if we hadn’t seen that we would be fooled 😅

Sugawara: no, we wouldn’t have been fooled. you would have been telling me for months.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

*inside the prisoners of ohio state penitentiary*

Kageyama: this is fucking terrible.

Tsukishima: it’s the opportunity of a lifetime to be here.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Tendou: i’m separating from the group.

Semi: it’s the ideal time to kill him.

Tendou: yeah i mean, if i were gonna die in camera it would be a pretty noble thing.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Osamu: I don’t understand what’s wrong with atsumu sometimes.

Atsumu: what was that?

Osamu: i didn’t say anything.

Atsumu: you sure you didn’t say anything, ‘samu?

Osamu: now go back and set ‘em off to make sure they work.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Sakusa: *inhales*

Atsumu: *inhales*

Sakusa: you need to back up from me. i can feel your air intake. it’s like a gross nasal jet, i don’t know.

Atsumu: *takes a step towards sakusa*

Sakusa: uh no *takes a step backwards*

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Futakuchi: latch yourself onto my soul, come back to hollywood with me, and destroy the lives of all my friends and coworkers.

Koganegawa: a little hard to follow, but i like where you’re going.

Futakuchi: kogane’s family has a little-

Koganegawa: ey! ey! do-! do-! don’t!

Futakuchi: -dog named mickey.

Koganegawa:*trying to stop futakuchi*

Futakuchi: real good. you wanted me to give it my all. i’m throwing stuff on the table.

Koganegawa: insults, not personal information. you’re giving him a dossier on my life!

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