what-about-sex-stories

[tendertenebrosity]

Masterpost for the Hollow is here.

The bag that had been over my head was removed, and I blinked around in the light at the room I’d been taken to.

Dusty. Looked like… a warehouse? The ceiling was high and echoing over my head. You could see the square outlines of crates in the chaff and dust that nobody had bothered to sweep up. It was half full of people. Some of them in workman’s clothes, some of themin nicer street clothes or what were potentially uniforms. Whatever was going to happen here, the boss apparently wanted it to have an audience. My stomach flipped.

The hard thing I’d been set against seemed to be a support post, my hands pulled around behind it.

“Finally,” the foreman of the logging camp said, stepping out of the crowd. He put his head on one side as he examined me. “You’re a lot of fucking trouble, you know that?”

“I try,” I said. I tested my strength against the rope; not much give there. “You didn’t even let me get a word in this time.”

The foreman snorted. “You should have taken the hint, kid. I don’t go for this kind of thing as a first resort.”

“Principles. Nice,” I said, scanning the room. No shortage of exits, but people in front of all of them. Nobody in the crowd looked likely to help; some of them were leaning on walls or furniture casually, like they'd been talking before the boss got here. No sign of Isadora; this wasn’t really her crowd. I couldn’t expect help from that front again. “Hey uh…”

“Look, there have been enough stories about you coming back from the dead and it’s starting to piss me off,” the foreman said, conversationally. He rested a hand on the post I was tied to, looking down at me. “You have the devil’s own luck, and apparently I have some very incompetent employees. The river thing is a bit of a mystery to me, still don’t know how you managed that one. But it’s not going to happen again. You know what they say, if you want something done right, eh?”

“Yeah - no - wait,” I said, something like a nervous laugh bubbling up in my throat. I fought with the ropes. “Wait, you don’t want to -”

“So I’m not leaving any room for credulous stories or folk tales or incompetence,” the foreman said, over the top of me. He stopped leaning, and went down on his haunches in front of me. He gave a smile, mocking and insincerely rueful. “You’re dying today, here and now. And all of these good folks can watch and vouch that you are, in fact, a human being, and very dead. Maybe we’ll put the body up somewhere conspicuous for a few days, but that’s a bit gruesome.”

He had something in his hand - a knife, I realised after a second of craning my neck. No. Fuck. I was really bad at playing dead and there’d still be these ropes. What if they threw me in the river again when they were done? How sure was I that I couldn’t be killed? Nobody had ever tried burning me. What if they…

“The higher ups won’t like that much,” one of the other people in the room said, a woman in secretary’s clothes, not as fancy as Isadora’s. There was a nervous note in her voice, but when I tried to twist my head to make eye contact, she slid her gaze away.

“Well, what they don’t know back home won’t hurt’em,” the foreman said.

“No! No, we can talk about this!” I protested. How was this going to play out? I tried and discarded scenarios in my head at break-neck speed. All of them were ugly. “All I ever wanted was to -”

“Talk and talk and talk,” the foreman said. “I fucking know.”

He grabbed my hair, fingers twisting into it to hold me still. The knife came up, as the word I’d been saying caught and choked in my throat, and he stabbed me. Into the soft part under my chin, to the left; and then dragged to the right with a horrible wrenching movement.

He was doubtless expecting a truly appalling amount of blood. So was I, despite myself; I’d seen animals slaughtered before.

There was some blood. Not as much as there should be.

Not enough to slump over and pretend. As established, I was shit at that anyway. He let go of my hair and I was too shocked at the pain to prevent myself from leaning back from him, pulling the knife out with a horrible sucking empty feeling.

I met his eyes with mine, probably as wide and horrified as each other.

He recoiled, holding the knife awkwardly against his chest.

“What the fuck,” he said, slowly, quietly. His eyes moved over my chest, over the blood that was soaking slowly into the front of my shirt but no further. Like I’d had a nosebleed instead of having my throat slit. It seeped from the wound as slowly as tree sap.

I wanted to touch the wound, radiating white-cold-aching pain, but the ropes prevented me from doing more than twisting and wrenching my shoulders.

Damn it. Damn it. What now? I should try for intimidating. Nowhere else to take this, right?

“Yeah, about that,” I said. Something wasn’t right with my voice; it came out hoarse and whistling and the wound felt awful. I met his eyes again, this time on purpose. “You might owe your employees an apology.”

He jerked upright, to his feet and away from me, as if someone was pulling him. He backed away, and I could see his fingers shifting position on the knife handle, slippery with blood.

The audience he’d gathered seemed a little slow to catch on - maybe they didn’t know how much blood there was supposed to be, or they hadn’t seen what he’d done until he moved away. But as he backed away, the cries of shock and disgust started up.

Dread twisted in my stomach. I felt sick. The coppery smell of blood went to the back of my throat. The foreman was right about one thing, there wasn’t going to be any explaining this one away.

I had a reputation already in the settlement as a fanatic, a crazy radical. Maybe a political agitator or a cultist nutcase.

Well, I was about to gain a new one.

Revenant. Monster.

“What are you?” the foreman demanded. Somebody pushed their way up front to stand beside him and see what had the boss rattled; he saw me, upright and looking around with my throat a gaping wound. He backed up an involuntary step, reaching for the weapon at his belt.

The secretarial woman was white as milk; the man beside her looked like he was about to throw up.

“A servant of the forest,” I said, and coughed. “Like I said.”

Come on. Intimidating. I tried to make my voice light and unconcerned, as if I still had the upper hand. Tried not to give away the fact that I was dizzy, my whole body buzzing with fear and pain, probably as close as they were to losing my stomach contents on the floor.

“I told you that you were messing with…” I had to take a deep breath. “… with things that you didn’t understand. You can see…” I pulled harder on the next breath, and something bubbled weirdly in my throat; one of the people in the room made a tiny stifled upset noise and kicked a chair aside in their haste to put more distance between me and them.

“I’m not a trick,” I told the room, forceful. “And I’m not a folk tale. I’m very real. Thing is, I didn’t come here to…” Pause for a whistling breath. This was messing with my momentum. “To be your enemy. The forest is angry… but I’m not. Yet.”

The room was silent; I looked past the foreman and addressed everybody else. I shrugged my shoulders, trying to lift my hands in invitation to cut the ropes. “So how about this. You can - hh - loose the ropes, I’ll let bygones by bygones. Water under… under the bridge. And we can… talk, like I wanted.”

For a second I thought it was going to work. The foreman was just standing there, knife hand slack by his side, looking at me in disbelief. One of the workers was even standing and starting to edge towards me.

Then it all went wrong. More wrong.

The foreman snapped his hand out to prevent anybody from going near me. “Nobody touches that thing until I say so,” he said.

That thing. Oh, gods.

“What is it?” somebody asked. “Boss, what do we do? He can’t be… How can he…”

“I don’t know, give me a second,” the foreman said. He came closer, his mouth set and determined, steeling himself to get closer to me. I threw myself to the side in my bonds.

“Hey, no, no, don’t - ”

He went to one knee, pinned my shoulder against the wood with the heel of one hand, and with the other plunged the knife into my chest, up under the breastbone.

It hurt like being punched or kicked by a horse. I yelled, or tried to; I couldn’t get enough breath. The foreman pulled the knife out, looked at it and then at me with his brow furrowed.

“Stop! What the fuck!” I yelped. “What was that supposed to - Y-you don’t learn quick, do you?! Get off - ”

Almost calm, experimental even, he did it again. Lower this time, halfway down my abdomen; I felt things tear. He lifted his hand again, and something in the fixed expression he had, horror but curiosity, that almost exploratory intent - oh, fuck, I can’t do this.

“Stop,” I said, frantic - and I knew I’d lost it. People with the upper hand did not plead. “I - stop! That’s pointless! If you - if I - you shouldn’t -”

“Shut up,” he said, almost absently, his mouth twisted in distaste, flecks of my blood on his face. “If you could do anything to stop me, you’d have done it by now, wouldn’t you?”

I panted, tried to wriggle away from him. “The forest will -”

He put his hand over my mouth, shoved my head aside so he could look at the wound in my neck. I felt rather than saw his fingers probing the wounds, making sure they were real, making sure it was exactly what it looked like. I shuddered convulsively at the pain and revulsion, his hand stifling and horrible over my face, fingers jabbing painfully into my wounds. Air touched the moss in my chest, cold and drying and deeply uncomfortable as always.

I contemplated trying to bite him, trying to kick - maybe I could damage my wrist enough to get my hands out of the ropes? The time to try that was some time ago, when I was still trying to sell myself as the intimidating monster, before I’d let him see how afraid I was.

The experimental look in his eyes terrified me. Maybe he couldn’t kill me, but what was he going to do in the attempt? And what was he going to do when he concluded he couldn’t?

He made a soft noise of horrified surprise. “What the fuck,” he repeated, quietly. I squeezed my eyes shut against tears, but I could guess what he’d found; I was probably leaking moss and leaf litter like a mauled stuffed toy.

He let me go, finally. I pulled myself as upright as I could against the post, shaking my head. I spat out a mouthful of blood-tinged saliva on the ground at his feet.

He was wiping his hand on the thigh of his trousers, looking down at me with fascinated disgust.

“You’ll regret this,” I said, a hoarse whisper, wishing I sounded more intimidating. “I’m your first warning. You may not get another. The forest - ”

“The forest is out there,” he said. “You’re not. Joyce! How fast can we get a message to head office?”

Someone answered, hesitant.

“I don’t care how much,” the foreman said. “I don’t know how long this thing’ll keep moving, and they’re going to want to see it for themselves.”

[cxyotl]

im throwign up i miss cschlatt so fucking bad oh mygod i miss him

[oblique-lane]

THE TF2 COMICS MIGHT BE AN UNRELIABLE NARRATOR!!!

What I mean by this. I personally don't really like the comics. While I'm grateful about certain aspects and some character study it provides, I don't exactly believe their narrative; I don't believe the story as it is.

Just– look at this:

↑↑↑ this is so meta?? Comics referring to itself as the comics?

So it says this story isn't what ACTUALLY happened, it's quite literally an overdramatized (and quite censored) in-universe comic about something that did happen in-universe.

But do we know what exactly was that? Well, no? All we have is this. If you want to see a non-meta story about mercs, well good luck staring at the void. Maybe fantasize about what the Adult Swim show might've been like. I dunno.

I know tf2 wasn't planned to have lore at it's launch, the characters themselves had their story embedded in them.

And you know what? I love it that way.

The characters are so self-sufficient, you don't really need to read the comics to understand them. The game / gameplay itself holds so much for thoughts.

It just lacks details, that's what. And comics were made to patch it with it's own fix-it interpretations of what was there in the beginning.

And well. The comics story IS good in its own way. But I don't like this particular interpretation. I personally don't like the story itself (except some character study aspects like Spydad, Administrator/Pauling character study, existence of Bidwell??)... I see they were going for the goofiness of tf2 everyone loves but... For me, the comics goofiness feels a little bit... foreign?

I don't think you need to go for over the top absurd for it to stay loveable tf2.

The comics lore is basically "Adventures with reunited colleagues to haunt the precious Australium to save the world (?) while wacky side things happen along". They didn't even address the RED and BLU team issue, how disrespectful?!!

The original game lore was "Different colored yet otherwise identical teams partake in corporate driven meaningless fights, escaping death with a respawn machine". Just the sentence alone evokes so much hidden dread about it?

And they can't exactly coexist.

Like, you see why I like the second version more, that's where all the angst things in my head come from! Yes, it's still goofy wacky in it's own way but you know what? So was Portal 2, yet we cried over it. Wacky doesn't mean some hi-fi soul crushing shit can't happen.

So when people try to bring up EVERYTHING what's considered official about tf2, and everything obviously starts to geet loose and inconsistent and filled with plot holes? And people have nothing else to do but ignore those inconsistencies? It makes me gnaw on walls. It took me a while but I've learnt that simply taking comics out of the equation just makes it magically work again. If you prefer consistency over the colorful lore (I do).

So. Yeah. I'm disliking the thing for what most people fell in love with. Just parallel playing here. With my own cryptic visions.

I know it's probably stupid to ask or expect something like this from tf2. It was never meant to be this way anyway. It was meant to be enjoyed as a silly little game. So why am I SUFFERING?

[viimayhem]

[lobotomysyndromez]

Genuine question what is it with tf2 horror projects going “fuck you in particular” to Spy . Like specifically Blu Spy. We Know what happens to EB Spy, Spy’s Disguise Spy is all kinds of messed up, HoovyDundy Blu Spy is like alive but Fucked Up mentally, and gunslingerpro2009/GMOD art Blu Spy is an amalgamation why do we hate this guy so much .

[67i203]

SPY'S DISGUISE

[cheemscakecat]

Oh… OH.

Guys hear me out… BLU Spy is a film buff who likes the Film Noir genre.

If you haven’t heard of/watched film noir, it’s 40s-50s era detective movies. If you’ve watched Who Framed Roger Rabbit, you basically get the gist of what the genre is like. Jessica Rabbit is a subversion of the fem fatale trope of a shrexy lady who works for the bad guys or is the main bad guy of the movie. Judge Doom is the crooked cop/official, R.K. Maroon is another corrupt party that allied with Doom. And Eddie Valiant is our cynical and jaded detective protagonist.

Now think about movies for a minute. How many times does the protagonist do something impossible because it looks cool? Be honest, John Wick is doing some maneuvers that make zero sense to real martial artists and government agents. Now think about how BLU Spy acts in Em Blue and Meet the Spy.

How many times does a detective/cop/agent protagonist go fight a dangerous person alone, and win? Usually there’s a struggle, but they still win. Spy didn’t though. Imagine he’s having a nightmare where one of the aspects is literally ���You’re not that guy pal. Trust me, you’re not that guy.”

This is not the time to make demands, this is the time to shoot the guy with a bigger, faster gun before he can get you. But the good guy usually manages to shoot first or dodge, so he can have the confidence to do something this risky. Except it doesn’t work for Spy.

I can’t help but wonder if one of the reasons is that Soldier is an actual war veteran and not crazy like RED; remember how I mentioned real experts before? What if Solly’s fighter logic is cancelling out Hollywood logic in the scenes where he and Spy are together? Of course, that’s not the only reason why Spy can’t do the cool things he’s trying; it’s insecurity.

What happens in Meet the Spy?

So BLU Spy decided to do the dramatic thing and monologue to his teammates about the RED Spy in base, knowing darn well that one of them is probably said Spy. Carrying literal dead weight with the RED’s weapon lodged in it. With full confidence.

Some people think he knew “Scout” was RED Spy, but I actually think he fell for it. Why else would he say “nothing. Nothing like the man currently inside this building!” and then give said abnormally skilled and dangerous Spy his knife back? And that’s not the only reason he didn’t know, either.

This folder of dirty pictures is BLU Spy’s trump card. Yeah, showing it to RED to humiliate him would be funny… but not the most satisfying outcome. Giving it to the Admin for enemy team blackmail? More satisfying. Giving it to one of RED Spy’s enemies so they can kidnap BLU Ma or study the layout of that room? Devilishly satisfying. But that’s still not his end goal.

Scout is the youngest member of the team with the most to learn. You’re telling me that the same Administrator who hired a Director to get dirt on RED team, and doesn’t even care much for Pauling, doesn’t have two-faced Spies on both sides? BLU and RED teammates willing to sell their team’s secrets for bonuses or their own protection? Oh they exist.

This BLU Spy is not one of these double crossers IRL; but he does look for dirt on RED team. He was probably taking the dirtier pictures to get shot of RED without his mask, but he left it on. But he found out BLU Ma is consorting with an enemy teammate, and that’s very important. He wasn't showing this to Scout just to assert dominance as an older teammate, he was saying “Look, your mama can’t be trusted. Don’t give her your information.”

“PATTY CAKE? PATTY CAKE?! I don’t believe it! [cries]”

“Believe it sister, she played Patty Cake.”

It’s the same thing but more disrespectful, he’s trying to wise the real BLU Scout up about mercenary work.

And before anyone asks, no, BLU Spy is not BLU Scout’s daddy. No sane parent would show those pictures to their child, even if he’s an adult and his mama cheated. Besides that, Spy shows literally zero interest in romance during Em Blue, even when he’s telling Archibald what promotions he wants. That’s… not a normal occurrence in Film Noirs.

I’m not saying getting tricked by RED Spy and loosing those pictures before the real Scout could see them is the reason BLU Spy doubts his own abilities. But it’s at least a factor in the bigger reason.

[cluelessatthispoint]

Nightlight

(Emesis Blue Pyro)

Warnings: Stalking, disturbing behavior, home invasion, corrupt corporation, kidnapping)

~~~~~~~~

Staying up way past midnight these past couple of days has been taking a toll on you, both mentally and physically. Work has been absurdly busy lately. Yesterday you had to fill out multiple orders for product shipments, then today you had to work on "the next big hit product". One guaranteed to get consumers scrambling for it at shopping malls everywhere. It was a mistake, the "Dream Product" that you had to get done by tomorrow started off as a simple self-made invention that brought you happiness. Apparently, the company that you work for gives its workers little to no privacy and "loved" what you designed and wanted to mass produce it. It was a small generator that made electrical energy from a non-mechanical power source. The first ever renewable energy source-based generator that had no negative qualities or setbacks.

The thought of your beloved little invention being mass-produced made your blood boil. Suing them at first chance was a great idea a few weeks ago when they announced your invention as an upcoming project to the board. When explaining everything that happened to your lawyer; the look in his eyes was filled with regret. He was a long-time friend and he knew you from when you were a toddler. The look he gave you was enough for you to know that he's been bought off. But, at least for now, you've been given a raise and a higher position at work. But, that still meant nothing to your superiors. The looks they give you when you walk down the halls give you the shivers. In all your years you've never felt a fear like this before. Ever since starting there, you've been hearing strange rumors. A cubicle mate of yours would always look at you with pity. His words ring in your head even now, at home alone...in the dark.

"The company needs you for now. And if you do a good job, hopefully, they'll keep you."

It sounded like it was supposed to be words of encouragement, but they sounded too sinister. Your coworker; a few days after saying that quit. His normally neat and tidy desk was cleaned out save for a small box of matches resting by his computer monitor. Normally he would have called you by now. But it's been nothing but radio silence for the past week and a half. Leaning back with a heavy sigh you rub tiredly at your face, a lazy attempt to drive the sleepiness away. It's only a few days and the paranoia was taking its hold on you.

Lately, you've been seeing the same box of matches almost everywhere you went. On an empty seat on the bus ride home, On the outside of the window seal by your favorite spot in the library. And yesterday night...right outside your door. This box was different from the rest. Its label could still be faintly seen, it looked like a heart. It was just laying there innocently on the doormat. The words "WELCOME' in big bold letters have long since faded due to a mix of being in the sun for so long and repeated trips to and from the house.

Paranoia kept you from leaving the safe confines of your small cozy house. It's normally a safe neighborhood, located not too far from the downtown area and not too far away to be secluded. The neighborhood was a safe one, many families made their homes in your location. Still the feeling of being watched or followed at times made your stomach twist in tight painful knots.

The more you thought about your 'missing' coworker the more your mind strayed to the small box of matches. The cover was worn and faded, and there are small traces of a once bright label that decorated the box. The faint outline of a heart, with smudged words, is all that's left of the label. Working in the dark wasn't a common thing that you did. But, working by candlelight just made you feel so cozy. Using one match after another, candle after candle, day after day finally came at a cost. This was your last candle and you already used up the last match.

Getting up from your chair to ease your aching joints felt like the best thing to do at this point. With a sigh and a yawn, you made your way to the door and flicked the light switch. Nothing happened. You could feel your eyebrows crease. With pursed lips, you flicked the switch again. And still nothing. The room remained dark.

"How in the hell did the power go out?" You whisper to yourself. Your voice echoed across the room, sounding louder than it really did.

Grimacing you reach for the candle on your work desk and head out into the dark hallway to check the other rooms. For some reason, you felt compelled to walk as quietly as possible. The air felt cold against your skin, Only wearing a t-shirt and pajama shorts really wasn't the best idea at the time but it was all that you had ready at the moment. The soft tapping of your bare feet hitting the hardwood floor was the only other sound besides your stifled breathing. Making your way to the hallway light switch you flick it on.

Off.

On.

Off.

On...

Your hair stood on end. The flickering flame of the candle betrayed your frightened features to the dark. Off to the corner, the sound of faint shuffling broke your panicked train of thought. Without thinking; you turned and ran full force into something hard. The fall against the floor felt like nothing compared to the heart-stopping horror that you feel now.

The candle that you once held extinguished in the fall leaving you and your uninvited guest engulfed in the darkness. only panicked whimpers and half words left your mouth. You couldn't move, you couldn't breathe, and all you could do was stare into the darkness in front of you. Turning over to get to your hand and knees you scrambled your best to get to your feet. Large gloved hands roughly pushed your head against the ground. Adrenaline rushed through your system, fight, flight, or freeze; you couldn't do anything, it was too late. From the corner of your eyes, you could see a small flame coming from between your assailant's hands. You didn't even hear them strike the match. Your heart was pounding so loud it felt like the whole neighborhood could hear it. The light that the match produced was just bright enough to see this person's face. You could feel your breath getting caught in your throat.

'Oh God!'

'Oh God! Jesus Christ!' You felt like you were choking.

'What the fuck?!'

A white mask peered from behind the flame. His head cocked to the side as if in a questioning manner. Tears gathered in your eyes, struggling to get up, struggling to even get a breath, your mouth formed words. You couldn't hear yourself, but you could tell that you were sobbing. Almost in a gentle manner, the masked man removed the hand that firmly held you down in place and brought it up to gently caress your cheek. Empty eye sockets bore down into your tear-filled eyes. It was too much, it hurt too much to think, it hurt too much to feel, and the adrenaline rush that you felt at first now left you tired. You could feel a sort of haze at the end of your vision. The world felt like it was spinning, and you knew no more.

[gummy-bwear]

I swear every time I watch this movie I notice something new.

During this scene where Fritz walks into Scout’s place of residence after he’s been kidnapped (and after his mum was killed) we see Fritz’s shadow beside the tv, and the character in the movie says “But I never even knew her”. Fritz is a prime suspect in the murder of Scout’s mum, and the feminine pronouns seem too much of a coincidence. Interesting?

[superdz555]

me talkong about my penits: 45:34 of emesis blue

[ionlypostmymeemocs]

TW: Mention of Cannibalism

(Emesis Blue) Medic: I lost my friends, my mind, and I am known as a killer... How about you?

(Medic OC) Villain Medic: Bad people forced me to eat my own family flesh...

(Emesis Blue) Medic: OHY MY GOTT-

[naturalbornlosers]

watching someone watch Emesis Blue and something i havent seen mentioned in analysis videos is that, after the scene where Scouts mother is killed, the whistling from M (1931) is there, but also, when Medic discovers her body, the scene playing on the tv is from the end of the film where the character of M is screaming about how the ghosts of the children he's killed and the pleas of their mothers follow him everywhere, and that's why he feels compelled to kill, to make it stop. so thats interesting.

[miintsprigz]

Taking things much too seriously as I always do but hear me out

On one hand…

Two characters: (have a visibly toxic/abusive relationship, literally can’t stand one another, one threatens to kill/endanger the wellbeing of the other SEVERAL TIMES)

Fandom: no they love each other though, can’t you see it

On the other hand…

Two other characters: (become friends, get along well, one mourns the other when they die)

Fandom: I sleep.

If you think the former is love, uh…I don’t know what you’ve been through but that is, in fact, not love, that is dangerous, and I hope you’re okay

I understand a lot of people say “oh it’s only fiction it doesn’t hurt anyone”

…but is that really true??? Fiction can inform people and their choices, and then fiction can impact reality.

Not saying people who ship those things think abusive relationships are true love or that it’s okay, but…I automatically put up a wall and don’t trust that

[runawaycarouselhorse]

Assorted doodles (including Buson on his first day as a sailor on a cargo ship, before he got his sea legs, enjoy the voyage!)—Bashou made him a bento box and he reaaally didn't wanna lose that lunch.

Kojiro and Musashi are here too. ^^

[nomohmoss]

i really hope that hyv will put "came back wrong" trope if not in the AQ then at least in a character or world quest, with that resurrection thing in natlan

[elysianstarl1ght]

hello tf2 community!

um, hi! i wanted to make an introduction for myself (because twitter is falling apart) so, hey! my name is cosmic, i have adhd and am likely autistic! i wanna start doing things on tumblr like growing a following, and just doing stuff cuz this place looks cool! so um yeah!!

im not sure how this stuff works so you'll have to bare with me for a bit, until i get used to this </3 but anyway some stuff about me!

my current hyperfixation is tf2!! as you can tell lol. some other interests of mine are astronomy, tmnt, lego monkie kid, warframe, horror (the whole genre), genshin impact, undertale, vtubers/nijisanji, ponytown and much more!

i started playing in february 2023!! i am very new lol (but apparently good...? according to some people...? idk about that)

i main scout and medic! i mostly play bootcamp wave 666!

im a scout fictkin and kin sniper, medic and demo!

i love all the mercs!! but demo, scout, sniper, pyro and soldier have taken over my brain the most!

im a writer and artist, and am currently writing a fic for tf2! it's very canon divergent and i'm still figuring out the general order of events, but i'm working on it <3 and super excited for it! trust me i will post about it nonstop

i have some uncommon headcanons that i'll probably talk about alot (pyroscout/flashfire and transfem soldier are just some)

YES i have watched emesis blue YES i love it YES i would love to talk with you and YES I WOULD LOVE TO PLAY TF2 WITH YOU and YES I WOULD LOVE TO TALK ABOUT HEADCANONS WITH YOU. i am ALWAYS up to talk about silly mercs!!

i.. havent read the comics... i'll get to it this summer i promise /gen

um.. yea i think thats all!! if you recognize me from twitter... uh hi PFFT anyway yeah!! thats it pretty much!! um... i hope i did this right aheh i dont want this to flop...

well um yea! i hope i can make myself a part of this community ahehe