Hello my darlings,

I am the current mastermind behind the TF2chan Archive site that will house our fanfiction and fanart of the past. I need your help. This is a community effort.

I need any of you who have edited your fanart and fanfiction to email me the revised copies of said fanart and fanfiction so we can have an up-to-date posting of your work. Please include the name of fanfiction and your chan name when doing so, in order for me to identify who you are.

Email is available above. I'll gladly answer questions and concerns as well. The site is to-be-announced at this moment. Cheers.

>>9005

Hello, and I am NOT the person who wrote teh incredible story called "DEMOMAN - SOLDIER". I am of the enjoying of that fic, but I was really sad that no more was written so I got a sandwich and ate it and now I write story of the adventure of the romance of the demoman who is of the drunk and the soldier who is of the gay.

I write highly original story right now.
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The soldier was reading the new number of Guns and Haircuts magazine over his TV, RED Demoman blows the door and says "LET'S GO FOR SOME CHICKS AND GET DRUNK LAD!"

And BLU Soldier says "NEGATIVE"

"WHY?"

"BECAUSE MY NAME IS JANE AND ALL THE CHICKS WILL LAUGH AT ME"

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First bit of a idea that popped into my head. Will eventually be Sniper/Spy. Not fluffy.
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The BLU Sniper squinted against the late afternoon sun. He was stretched out along the wooden floor of the highest room in the BLU compound, peering down on the battlefield below through one of the two windows. A bead of sweat ran down his scalp to his temple, pausing before it slid down his cheek. The showers would be cool welcome relief after this heavy heat. It had been a slow day so far; the end to an even slower week. Patient man or not, his finger itched for the trigger. Perhaps, he thought, it was time to find a new vantage point.

Sniper had been camping out in this particular room during the daily battles for about a month. It was likely the REDs had caught on, finding ways to navigate outside the range of his deadly riffle. This meant that he would have to scout out new positions after this battle, regrettably postponing his shower, and testing the most promising during the next battle. This was not unexpected, but was unfortunate.

Not unexpected because in the 28 weeks he had spent working for BLU, he had not managed to find a single position the REDs didn’t wise up to eventually. Unfortunate because Sniper had found that this particular location seemed to present some sort of obstacle to the RED Spy. The past month had been hot and cramped, but blissfully stab-free.

Sniper paused his vigil, taking a hand off of his riffle to scratch an itch on his back.

The Red Spy, like all Spies, was a bastard.

He took obvious pleasure in his underhand methods for disposing of his enemies. Sniper was no nancy-boy; fire and bullets he could handle just fine, but he cringed at the memories of waking with a gasp in re-spawn, squirming at the ghostly phantom of a butterfly knife sliding into his back. The Marksman got goose bumps thinking about it.

Sniper’s thoughts were interrupted by a flash of motion in his peripheral vision. He brought his hand back to his weapon and shuffled on his elbows, pivoting the riffle so he could get a better look through th

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>>	Anonymous 10/09/05(Sun)20:42 No. 15729 >he cringed at the memories of waking with a gasp in re-spawn, squirming at the ghostly phantom of a butterfly knife sliding into his back. This sounds much sexier than it has any right to. ...Continue.

>>	Anonymous 10/09/05(Sun)21:17 No. 15730 File 12837466604.png - (15.58KB , 100x100 , 46954.png ) more please ♥

>>	Anonymous 10/09/05(Sun)22:28 No. 15731 this is amazing. i love your writing style, it's so vivid. more please. also, just a side note, rifle is spelled with one 'f'. my inner grammar nazi forced me to tell you that. sorry if i'm being an asshole, i'll shut up now.

This is to fill a request. Obviously incomplete, will try my best to finish future chapters when I have time. Doesn't get into adult material until later. And yes, I am aware that there are several parts that are inaccurate to TF2. Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The BLU Soldier ran quickly around the corner, narrowly dodging a bullet to the head. Only when he had practically thrown himself to the ground and rammed the wooden door shut did he loudly curse and grab his left arm. He had not expected the REDs having a sniper, and the bullet lodged in his arm made it even more impossible to return fire at the unseen assassin.

Slowly he rose, using his right arm to apply pressure on his left arm. "Son of a bitch," he said, more closely examining his wound, seeing that the bullet had gone completely through his arm. If he didn't get to the BLU Medic soon, he knew he wouldn't last long. With only one arm, the only weapon he could potentially use would be his shovel, and there would be no way he could use it against the sniper, even if he somehow managed to take out the other RED.

He knew that there were only two REDs left, the sniper and one other unknown recruit, probably a scout. The Demoman had taken out their demoman and a soldier before being exploded by the other soldier. Luckily the BLU Sniper nailed him in the head before he could kill anyone else, leaving the REDs without any soldiers, making it easy for the BLU Soldier to take out the RED Medic, but that was when the RED sniper killed the other BLU soldier he was with, and only narrowly missing the BLU Soldier and the BLU Medic.

He wasn't sure how many BLUs were left. He knew the Demoman was gone, he saw his fellow Soldier die to the sniper, but he knew the BLU Medic was safe, and taking cover somewhere in the room, possibly behind one of the large saws. He himself had seen to it that the Medic was the first to the shelter, risking his own life in the process. He wasn't sure if the BLU Sniper was alive or out fighting the RED Sniper, and he had no idea where the BLU Pyro had run off to, as he had only seen he for a short whil

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Hello everyone, lurker here deciding to finally post something. (A very nervous lurker that, took 20 minutes to get enough courage to hit the 'Submit' button)

This is my first post on this site, hopefully I am doing everything right and won't get anybody upset with me. I am not the best writer and this is the first time I have written anything with so much sexual content; so I am sorry if anything is wrong with it. I did try my best to keep the characters true to the canon style when I wrote this, but I can't promise perfection. Any criticism will be greatly appreciated.

This was written at the request of a good friend of mine and is dedicated to her. (You know who you are!) I let her pick the subject, pairing and the items used in this, so that's why they are in here. I also give credit to Prawnsy, Kilo the Monster, Wilson, Cat Bountry, and the other people on TF2chan for being such amazing writers and artists that have done such beautiful work.

This story takes place after the war between RED and BLU has ended and BLU Engineer and BLU Soldier are living together. There is a minor character I created in here, but she's just a neighbor to the main characters and doesn't play a huge role.

Other then that I have nothing to say except thank you for reading this and enjoy.

___________________________________________

"Mine"

Engineer was furious. Normally he considered himself a pretty calm and level-headed guy, not easily angered and quick to forgive. Of course, ever since Soldier moved back to Texas with him, things had become far from normal.

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The Crazed Artist 10/09/04(Sat)14:11 No. 15714 >>15616 >>15620 >>15623 >>15624 >>15696 >>15713 I am glad you guys enjoyed it. I'm trying to come up with new ones but between college, and my own writers block, I've been having difficulty. If anyone wants to suggest some ideas or requests for certain characters, then go for it and I'll see what I can do. (Though I will probably be posting the next ones in their own thread in the Fanfiction section)

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[Thaddeus] The Scurvy 10/09/04(Sat)17:02 No. 15716 File 128364497454.png - (226.18KB , 512x368 , 1282907116524.png ) >>15609 Oh God Solly, you card. Lighten up on him, Engie. He just wanted to bake you a cake to show his love because he has trouble expressing himself. Now eat that gunpowder cake or he'll think you don't love him.

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Buttons 10/09/04(Sat)20:49 No. 15718 >>15609 My brothers apparently channeled Solly when we were growing up. I must say, I like the idea of this becoming a series, however these last two would belong in fanfic so maybe you should move the next non-porn ones over there? regardless, you have yourself a fan now, like it or not.

This is an imitation of the "On the Road" scroll with Scout and Sniper as Neal and Jack (the raddest bromance of all). Best viewed at 8 1/2" with 1" margins. (I'm not certain if this is "Adult" or not.) The French is fixed, the underlines are fixed. Thanks to everyone for your help.



I first startarted bumming around with Scout a few years after the war ended and a few before that war ended which was never a war, really, and this was long before I realised that neither war really had a beginning or an end and that all of them just ran into eachother, willrun into each other til the end of time, but more about that later. Scout had decided that night he was “just stahvin for a taco” and I had to reflect that sentiment. We were both coming down and Scout was certain that he was the fitter of the two of us to drive, I could not object. He had only done “just a little speed and some mescaline.” “Where'd you get mescaline?” “Where didn't I get mescaline.” That's when I knew I would never get a straight answer out of him for anything, as if I ever wanted one. We left and very shortly I knew we wouldn't just be getting tacos. “I need to see the Medic,” he said and gave me a cheeky bloody wink and while we were driving he told me about his awesome life: running, literally, from one girl to the next high, to the next girl to the next high, to a few men in between, mostly for the money. “I'm the fastest hand in Boston!” I believed him about that mostly business and I didn't question him further on it. We arrived at Medic's place and before the engine stopped, Scout had bounded over the carhood and was screaming into the building's intercom, “I'M HYEAH TA BUY!” We were buzzed in. While dazed and lumbering halfway up the steps, he'd already reached his destination but immediately raced back down to intercept me, “Come on, old man, you're holding up the mission!” “Gwaawn, I'm not that much older than you!” “You are.” “

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Awright, I haven't written anything in a while. All I managed was to squeeze out this bit of baww. Hardly even 'adult' themed. Eh.
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The BLU Medic had a problem. He was aware of it; he had been diagnosed at age seventeen. However, he had also been treated for it. The treatment was rigorous (torturous) and he had managed to act as though he was cured. It had been just that- an act, clumsy and halting- but he had convinced himself that he would become more natural in time. It had proven difficult, dull and distasteful, and he had eventually given up in favour of ignoring the topic altogether. Now, though, on the Coldfront base, miles from civilization, he was having trouble keeping his problem out of his mind.

He wanted to blame the woman, to say that she had been ugly, or frigid, or stupid. She wasn’t though, not any of those things. Lilli was charming, intelligent, a sparkling conversationalist, and a lissome blonde textbook case of female loveliness. Every other man in the German garrison had been envious, wondering aloud why she had chosen him. He had wondered, too- Lilli had said it was because he was the only one who genuinely seemed to like her. He did like her, and when she took him to bed, he rejoiced in being completely cured. However, for all her lusty enthusiasm, all her playful willingness, sharing a bed with her had been a chore. Even the basic physical release was muted and uncertain.

The Medic also wanted to blame the Heavy. Nothing about the big Russian was muted or uncertain. Noisy, boisterous, overwhelmingly physical, he filled every available space from edge to edge. Of course this made him the centre of attention when he was in the room. However, wasn’t his fault that he inhabited the Medic’s mind at night. When the Medic was in his bunk alone, his mind dwelt on his large teammate- the muscles in his shoulders, the glint in his eyes, his booming laugh. The Russian had taken to rubbing the Medic’s shoulders after battle, rough squeezes along his aching trapezius where the Medigun harness dug in. He couldn’t be expected to account for the German’s unwholesome r

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>>	Anonymous 10/09/01(Wed)06:28 No. 15667 Marty, after playing medic, checking tf2chan, seeing gullie from street fighter, and seeing your name next to the author, i couldent have had a better day. what ever you write is a MASTERPEICE

>>	Aurora-Storm 10/09/01(Wed)15:30 No. 15675 Oh man. Poor, poor BLU. I hope you guys get around to that RP. Sounds mighty interesting, and I wouldn't mind some more well-written heartache.

>>	Anonymous 10/09/04(Sat)06:14 No. 15710 File 128360606270.gif - (307.54KB , 256x145 , FUCKYEA.gif ) >>15606 >Medic, Heavy and a sauna Oh my god, YES.

I was inspired to write a ‘Medic and You’ fic because of RobotLyra. Like her fic, this one is also gender neutral. While the medic in here noticeably shares kinks with my OC medic Jaeger Reinhardt (with the glove and touch kink focus of the fic), I leave him a nameless BLU Medic so anyone can enjoy this reading as they imagine fit. I also wanted to keep the talking responses of ‘you’ to a minimum so you can imagine yourself in the role, or things you would say.

Note this fic has Medigun kink too. ENJOY!

…

Your stay with Builder’s League has been relativity uneventful besides the assigned work on your docket. You were hired by BLU and shipped out to a supply station base called ‘Well’ to tune up their automatic train systems. According to what you were told; their rival company, Reliable Excavation Division, is vying for the same land and train lines...hence all the noise you hear during the day as hired mercenaries protect what is rightfully BLU’s.

Your tour was nearly over…working in the quiet afternoons while the mercenaries were in their respective bases. Everything was fine; that is until you slipped and bashed your arm on a broken guard rail.

You were told not to interact with the private ‘army’, but you don’t trust the gash along your forearm. You tried to dress the wound yourself but that rail was rusty, you could get an infection. You know there is a team medic; what harm could it do to run in and ask for a quick healing? Both of you work for the same company, after all.

*Knock Knock*

You tentatively rap on the steel infirmary doors. It’s just become dark outside; most of the other mercenaries are asleep or in their quarters.

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>>	Anonymous 10/09/03(Fri)20:50 No. 15707 File 128357220224.jpg - (15.01KB , 308x313 , 47901_425630806469_615911469_5464045_7599528_n.jpg ) >>15706 I concur. MOAR PLEASE

>>	Anonymous 10/09/03(Fri)21:12 No. 15708 By the way has anyone ever done a Medic & You fic where Medic bottoms? Would be interesting to see that.

>>	Anonymous 10/09/04(Sat)05:24 No. 15709 >>15708 This. This. So. Much.

So I write like once a year? But people seem to kinda like it when I do, so I'm trying to make a habit of sorts out of it. On that note, I hope this suffices, TF2 fandom. (Gets into /afanfic/ territory a couple chapters in, natch.)

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Strange to say, but in hindsight, it seemed like the most natural thing in the world for Sniper and I to become friends.

I mean that it was strange in that, well, it wasn’t as if our jobs brought us into contact with one another all that often – I could go entire battles without seeing, let alone speaking, to him. But off the field, after the fighting, we had drifted into a comfortable sort of camaraderie. For all that our jobs may have been wildly different, once you got down to it, we were actually pretty similar. Now, I wouldn’t go so far as to call myself taciturn, but I didn’t run my head like Soldier or Scout, so it seemed when Sniper got the itch for conversation he knew where he wouldn’t get too much of it. And we had both spent time under big, endless skies – Bee Cave was plenty close to Austin, but between PhDs I had spent some time out in the west Texas oil fields. Fewer animals that could and would kill you if given half a chance, and more danger of being blown right up. And for all that his father might call him a crazed gunman, I don’t reckon there was anyone on the team more affable and easy-going off the clock. So we got on well, and as the months wore on, it became something of a habit for us to make out way up to the battlements in the evening, to drink coffee and talk. Sometimes I may have run off into technical details, and sometimes Sniper lost me when he went on about things more quintessentially Australian, but, well, that was alright.

Things started to go a little pear-shaped after everyone found out about Medic and Heavy – I’m not exactly clear on the details, but considering the noise Scout made about it, I’m willing to bet the kid walked in on them. But then, considering one of the parties was Heavy, there wasn’t much he or anyone else could do but make noise. (“Anyone”, in this case, was referring to the Soldier, who claimed the only thing worse than Commies

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>>	emzy 10/08/31(Tue)11:12 No. 15644 >>15526 NGHHHHHHHH Goddamn you, now I'm all bothered at work and I can't do anything about it. Also you make me want to draw after not drawing for the past 4 months. Friggin A, fish

>>	Fish 10/08/31(Tue)11:36 No. 15645 >>15644 OH MAN. That is awesome. <3

>>	<>SgtSanvich<> 10/09/03(Fri)04:33 No. 15702 File 128351359275.jpg - (15.55KB , 227x188 , 125270088433.jpg ) FISH IS CREDIT TO TEAM!

You can blame my sibling for this nonsense. Critique is welcomed, there will be more.

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How did it come to this point? I can’t remember. I never could remember things very well. I’m always a split second ahead of the now. Living in the moment. Spur of the second. Thinking takes time, makes you hesitate. I was hesitating now, but reeling for the reason why.

“You cannot stand there for an eternity, boy.”

“I don’t plan on it, frenchie.”

//

“YEAHA-HAA!” Whooping triumph burst from the Scout as he hit the dirt, smirking at his trophy. The Soldier floated face down in the greenish waters, deader’n a doornail. “Betcha didn’t even see me comin’ ya big dope.”

He didn’t have to look around to tell the field was clear, his ears told him enough. Despite the bedlam of noise endured by each member of the team every day their hearing was sharper than ever, as it had to be. Scout began reloading, fingers deft in their work popping out the old shells, snapping in the new and clapping the gun shut. Collecting himself, Scout put his enthusiasm to work fueling a sprint that took him up and deep into the BLU base.

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