What's that? You want to see the TF2 guys in women's clothing? Okay. Crossdressing Fortress Chapter 1 * Entire Team is ladies! It was Soldier’s scheme. Perhaps not the craziest scheme the delusional military man had ever devised, but it was definitely in the top ten. He’d spent a sleepless night refining the details and drawing out schematics for the team meeting scheduled at oh’ nine hundred the following morning. It was a masterwork. A combat strategy that would make Sun Tzu himself weep at the sheer flawlessness of it. Solder had never been more ready to address his troops. He had spent the past hour explaining it with obsessive detail. The RED team was currently losing to the BLU’s by a 0.05% margin, and to the RED Soldier this was unacceptable. He had devised a foolproof system that would ensure every member of the team would pull their weight. Stragglers would be punished in the most punitive method Soldier could devise. As Soldier had expected, there was some resistance. That’s what happened when you ran a nancy team of communists and girl scouts. “I have taken the preemptive liberty of requisitioning additional supplies. Maybe this time you ladies will think again the next time you decide to dishonor your country by losing.†Demoman was the first to break the silence. “I’m open to new idea’s an’ everything, but ye’ve gone daffy. Ye can’t seriously expect us tae go along with this?†Medic pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “I am afraid I have to agree with Herr Demoman. This is ludicrous. I vill have no part in it.†“Yeah!†Piped in Scout, always compelled to contribute an opinion. “I ain’t doin’ none of that crap. Count me out.†Soldier smacked his shovel down onto the boardroom table. Insubordination would not be tolerated. “I see you maggots enjoy the taste of failure! You make me sick. I’d shoot every one of you dead right now if there wasn’t a contractual clause preventing me.†“Well, if I could play devil’s advocate for a moment fellas. Maybe this here plan ain’t so silly?†All heads turned Engineers way. He tried to ignore the embarrassment he felt defending Soldier’s looney idea. “All I’m sayin’ is that I know I’d try harder if this directive hung over my head. Wouldn’t everyone?†No one could argue with that. They all sat around the table fidgeting and avoiding eye contact. Soldier however, was thrilled that someone could see the genius in this ploy. “That was a commendable speech private! The rest of you princesses should take a page out of Engineer’s book. A man’s book. Written by a man.†“Well that’s the bloody point, innit? None of us want to prance about like sheilas. We’re men!†Argued Sniper. “I see.†Mused Spy while he took a long drag on his cigarette. “Ze goal is to ‘umiliate us until our performance improves. A valid strategy, if not a sound one.†“Nah uh! No way. Forget it.†Scout was resolute. Heavy frowned, his mind slowly catching up with the conversation. “So… if we wear these clothes, we will crush more of coward BLU team? Is strange, but if works I could try…†“I say we vote on it.†Engineer folded his arms and looked at the rest of the team in defiance. “Heck, if it means we’ll win more battles, I’m willin’ to try anything.†“I like your thinking,†shouted Soldier. “We’ll do this the American way. With DEMOCRACY! Once again, you’ve done me proud private.†He saluted Engineer with perfect form. Engineer smiled back weakly. The votes were as follows: Demoman, Medic, Scout and Sniper were steadfast against the idea. The more open-minded members to vote in favour were Soldier, Engineer, Heavy and Spy. The future of the RED team’s masculinity hung in the balance with one vote. Everyone looked at Pyro with baited breath. “Well, what’s it gonna be ya mumbling freak?†Demanded Scout. He didn’t have a very high tolerance for suspense. Pyro tilted his head to the side and hummed as he gave it more thought. “Mmmphh hudda.†And if that was unclear, he presented the team with a shiny thumbs up. It was settled. Operation Lady Clothes was a-go. * The rule was simple. The team member who achieved the least crits for the day would be subjected to the ultimate shame - wearing women’s clothing until the next battle. Whether the team won or lost was irrelevant. The loser of a winning team was still a loser. In Soldier’s opinion there was no better way to man someone up than to completely emasculate him. There was only one thing that was worse than being a hippy freeloader, and that was being a woman. He had watched over these men for long enough now that he knew their weaknesses and insecurities. He had chosen clothes to reflect these flaws and eventually, according to Soldier, eliminate them. It was an ironic twist of fate when ultimately it was Soldier who was the first to fall under the wrath of this tyrannical new law. A day of yelling at his men to stop gossiping about lipstick had left him short on time to annihilate the opposition. He’d spent so much time striking the fear of God into the RED team that he hadn’t paid attention to the kill tally. At the end of the day everyone was in for a surprise. Soldier had the least kills of the day. Despite the humiliating condition of this rule, he managed to take it with every ounce of dignity. He held his head high as he did the walk of shame. Scout wolf-whistled as he tottered into the common room. “Oh yeah baby. Move those legs.†Spy tilted his head in appreciation. “My, my Soldier. I would not ‘ave though zhat fishnet stockings would suit you so well. And you make walking in such impractical shoes look effortless. Magnifique!†Despite his feminine clothing, Soldier refused to part with his helmet. It hung over his eyes and helped to partially obscure his burning cheeks. “I hope you’re all getting a good look maggots! It will be your turn soon.†“You’re lucky I’m a gentleman Solly,†teased Engineer, “a lesser man would throw you on the table and have his way with you.†Soldier subconsciously pulled down the back of his black mini-skirt. It had the infuriating habit of riding up whenever he walked faster than a snails pace. His fishnets and fuck-me boots were complimented with a pink boob-tube stuffed with coconut halves (for authenticity). Unfortunately Soldier just didn’t have the figure to pull it off. “Leetle man is now leetle lady.†Chuckled Heavy. “In Russia women do not wear these things. Is too cold.†“I am not certain any self-respecting fräulein would wear such clothing.†Frowned Medic. “Zhis whole experiment is fraught with unprofessional theatrics.†“Ahh, Medic’s jus’ jealous.†Said Demoman. “Don’t ye listen to ‘im Soldier. Ye lookin’ mighty fine.†Sniper lewdly suggested a chest wax. It was a comment too far for Soldier’s already bruised ego and it earned the Australian an impromptu fistfight. The team was quick to surround the scuffling pair, cheering and yelling explicit suggestions. Sprawled out across Sniper, Soldier’s skirt took on a mind of it’s own and hiked up his waist to expose a pair of overly muscular, fishnet clad buttocks. It was possibly the most erotic sight the team had witnessed since moving to the base, and that was a depressing thought. Despite his handicap, Soldier emerged the victor. Sniper could only lie there and take it. He just didn’t have the heart to hit a lady.
Aaand the second chapter. * The next unfortunate victim of this law was Spy, much to his annoyance. He wondered if this was going to become a routine. The art of Spying wasn’t about mindless carnage. He left that job to the boorish oafs on his team whom he was too polite to personally identify. There was flair and subtly to each of his backstabs that this new rule completely overlooked. Perhaps there wasn’t as much quantity with his kills, but he more than made up for it with quality. It was injustice of the highest order. He huffed as he adjusted his bonnet. He always took the effort to look well presented, and simply wearing women’s clothing would not change that fact. For identity protection his balaclava remained, but everything else was a picture of femininity. Soldier had picked out a unique outfit for every member of the team. They were seemingly hand tailored to compliment each mercenary’s personality. Spy was appropriately assigned a French maid’s outfit, complete with feather duster. The fine fabric was crumpled from storage, which was why Spy had spent the last hour carefully ironing it out. Maids had standards and so did he. Dressing like a woman didn’t really bother him as much as he might have professed. During his long career in espionage he had been subjected to far worse disguises. He patted the recently shaved skin around his mouth with a floral scented aftershave. It wouldn’t do to have stubble when dressed in this outfit. In Spy’s opinion, it was the attention to detail that separated the cream from the milk. Lacing up his own corset was difficult, but pride vetoed any request for assistance. To his surprise the shiny black high heels fit perfectly. He wondered how Soldier sourced a manufacturer who even made them in his size. Interesting. Spy made a personal note to do some reconnaissance on Soldier’s supplier. But that would have to wait for later. Right now he had a job to do, and that was to dress like a dainty cleaning lady. He appraised himself in the mirror, running his hands down his waist and along the lacy ribbon holding his apron in place. No, dressing like a woman wasn’t unpleasant at all. Maybe, in the right circumstance, it could even be enjoyable. Being a spy for so long meant that his ability to shifting into character came as easily as blinking. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes before he opened them with a brand new perspective. “Ah, sacrebleu!†He said, his voice a full octave higher. “Everyzing is filthy! Men, zhey are such abominable pigs.†Walking out into the common room came with the expected immature comments. Scout was always the most vocal, with the predictable ‘hey babys’ and ‘whataya doin’ tonight, dollface’. Spy knew the only way to retain his dignity was to appear completely unaffected. He strode past the men, not entirely hating the attention he was receiving. “How do you like it now, maggot?†Shouted Soldier who was much more at home dressed in his army fatigues. “How does it feel to show the world you’re a lazy surrender monkey?†“Ooh monsieur, I am so embarrassed!†Tittered Spy. “I am only here to be at your service.†He leaned over the table and batted his eyes at the confused American. “Eet is ‘ard to control myself around such a big, strong man.†This was not the response Soldier expected. He tugged at his collar and cleared his throat. “Well, uh, carry on madam. Uh, I mean private.†Soldier was quick to make a hasty retreat. The rest of the team however, was a little more enamored with Spy’s new persona. “Ay mate, I have some rods back in me van that need a good polish.†Said Sniper as he leaned back on the couch and tipped his hat at Spy. Spy sauntered up to Sniper, carefully placing one heeled foot in front of the other. He dusted the top and Sniper’s hat and leaned down at eye level with the Australian. “I ‘ave seen the inside of your van. You are a filthy man.†“All the more reason for you to be there, ay?†Sniper’s face stretched out in a sharp toothed grin. Spy was aware that they were pushing the boundaries of playful banter. Perhaps he should tone it down. He knew how convincing he could be. With a flick of his feather duster, Spy sent Sniper’s hat flying across the room. “Humph!†He stood up and looked down his nose at the man before waving a hand at his laced up body and turning away. “You could not afford it.†Spy smiled to himself. He didn’t need to look behind to know what effect he’d had on Sniper. The rest of the team hadn’t taken their eyes off him. Interesting. Spy was of course well trained in the fine art of seduction. Every self-respecting spy was. Unfortunately, it was a talent that had no use in his current place of work. Lamentable, but inevitable. He was surprised how naturally it came back to him, given the opportunity. He approached Engineer who was twirling his helmet nervously in his hands. “Monsieur ingénieur.†He flicked some feathers across the Texan’s bald head making the man shiver. “Can you believe ze boors I ‘ave to work with.†“Well now,†Engineer murmured. Not quite prepared to directly at Spy. “Y’all don’t have to worry about me behavin’ like that. I can show a lady respect.†“Oooh darling.†He leaned down, making sure his chest rubbed against Engineer’s shoulder, and gave him a light peck on the cheek. “I know you can. You are ze sweetest thing.†Spy walked away from the stuttering Engineer smiling to himself. Men were so easy to manipulate. That evening Spy enjoyed himself immensely. Somehow his clothes gave him a newfound power that not even his masculine, Italian suited persona had achieved. His colleges were more than happy to drop what they were doing to satisfy any request Spy demanded. By the end of the night Spy considered throwing some matches for another opportunity to play ‘la femme de chamber’. When he returned to his room for the night, he discovered a bouquet of wildflowers placed against his door. He picked them up and inhaled deeply. “Belle.†He sighed, and pushed his bedroom door open.
My god I remember reading this over at Y!Gallery and loving it, and now I see you've updated it with the next chapter. Spy in his french maid outfit, I was laughing so hard, especially since he got so in character with it. I can't wait to see who the next victim is~
I´m not into crossdessing much... but you. Oh you. I love you, that you make me love this. Especially Engies Line about being a Gentlemen let me explode. Please write more of this. Please.
2 This is GREAT! I was a little uneasy about the prospect of men being forced to dress as women for punishment (even though it's very hot). Spy redeems the whole thing by showing exactly how much power a femme can have. Rock on, I'll read the rest of this avidly.
Holy. Hell. I just can't get enough!
I don't know which I love more... the top notch dialogue or your delightfully offbeat sniper.
What? Crossdressing? Bleh no thanks. This is gonna suck. So why did I enjoy it?
Oh god, lovely. I have a terrible long-standing soft spot for cross-dressing, and... I hope, since they're being punished for the least of kills, that Medic is soon, ahah!
I have got the biggest grin on my face right now, and I'm not quite sure why. All I know is that I love this, and I will be very, very sad if everyone does not get their turn in drag. ...And the fact that this is in afanfic gives me hope that there might be pornytiems in here somewhere. One-track mind, eh?
I found this a lot hotter than I probably should. I sincerely hope you plan on continuing this.
>>5 I don't even like cross-dressing that much. But one night in a burst of compulsion I sat down, wrote it, and the world was good. >>9 How did you guess that Medic would be next? I have wonderful things planned for him. Oh yes.
>>12 Geisha!Medic, oh please. Please.
MORE. Lol this is fantastic. This may be a different sort of way for them to be motivated. Instead of fearing humiliation, the team starts trying really hard to be able to see their other colleagues in... *ahem* nice clothes. Oh, mon dieu! ~<3
I thought this was funny. I figure if someone's trying to embarrass you, play along and enjoy it. Spy certainly won in that way. I always wondered in these situations though, who the hell is Soldier to tell them what to do? Even if they did vote on it, couldn't they just say "fuck you I'm not wearing that?" (I like Soldier but I know if he was real, we would NEVER get along.)
Omg I love this I giggled so much Please continue :DDDD
Can't... stop... laughing..! Good gods I loved Spy's chapter! It's just like him to come out on top no matter what; I can't wait to read how the rest of the team fares.
I'm not a fan of crossdressing at all, I like my men manly, but this is so wellwritten and full of delicious comedy that I read it anyway. You rock, sir, you rock.
I was sad. But now I'm not.
Another chapter! Some of you may be disappointed that there is no Geisha!Medic in this, but I'm saving that for later. * It was only to be expected that Medic was the next victim in this exercise in humiliation. The role of a medic had never been focused on offence or kill-counts. He was a support class whose job it was to run around healing the more appropriately armed classes. But, no amount of German expletives could convince the Soldier that this should be taken into consideration. According to Soldier he wasn’t using the best of his abilities to exterminate the BLU team and he should go cry over some sauerkraut if he didn’t like it. Even Medic had to admit, that was fascism. So here he was, looking mournfully at he candy striper nurses outfit that was laid out on his bed. Wearing that thing was the second worse thing that could happen to him today. The first was having Soldier burst in and forcibly dress him (which he had actually threatened to do). Medic sighed and picked up a pair of cream silk stockings, delicately embroidered with pink hearts and medical crosses. Medic could only scoff at the detail. He found it astounding that Soldier was using company money to purchase these ludicrous hand-tailored garments. The money would have been far better spent on weapon upgrades, or even recreation facilities. Lacy pink panties were not a tax deductible business expense. He threw the stockings back on the bed. He hadn’t voted for this and he had every right to refuse. He was a man of decorum. A man of pride. He sighed and thought back to the previous night. Spy wasn’t so affected by this silly ritual, so maybe it wasn’t as bad as it seemed? He’d just get it over with tonight and devise a way to kill more enemies tomorrow. Steeling himself, he decided to start with the most innocuous piece of clothing. He placed the nurses cap on his head and adjusted his hair beneath it. Well, that was easy enough, but squeezing into the stripy thigh-high dress, embellished with an underskirt of tulle would prove a bigger challenge. He grumbled as he fumbled with the bra latch. He was a professional with more than 30 years of medical experience and this is what he was reduced to. Struggling to fit into lady’s unmentionables. Ridiculous. There was loud pounding on his door. “You’ve been in there an awful long time, Fritz! I’ll give you two more minutes before I court-martial you for noncompliance with a direct order.†“Ja, ja, dummkopf.†Medic muttered under his breath. He finally figured out the bra and slipped the dress over his head. It was just as well, because Soldier proved true to his word and kicked the door in with a strike of his steel capped boot. “Scheiße!†Medic hopped away and wrapped his arms around his chest protectively. “Are zhere any manners left in zhis base?†“Time’s up weaselwurst! It’s time to go out there and show everyone the kind of man you are. Not much of one! Outside on the double, private. ONE TWO ONE TWO!†“I am getting to it!†Screeched Medic, secretly ashamed at his own melodrama. He took a long breath, ran a hand over his face to compose himself and turned to face Soldier. “But, since you are here, vould you be so kind as to zip me up? I cannot reach zhat far.†Medic turned his back to the American. As silly as it was to dress like a woman, it was sillier still to improperly dress like a woman. He waited for an awkward moment before he turned around to see what the holdup was. Soldier held his hands in a frozen, claw-like pose, hovering inches away from the zip at the back of Medic’s dress. He looked fretful, unsure of his next move. “Vell?†Asked Medic, more annoyed at Soldier’s strange behavior than anything else. “Do you vant me out zhere or not? Zip up mine dress!†Soldier shook his head, snapping out of his trance at the sound of Medic’s voice. “Ah, outside. Right! I’ll just…†It took an unusual amount of effort, but Soldier finally got there. The zip went up with a ‘vvvvrrrp!’ and Medic’s outfit was complete. He patted his dress down and took some tentative steps in the small pink slippers that came with the uniform. “Many thanks for your help, Herr Soldier. Now I can get zhis exercise in disgrace ovah with.†He wobbled out into the corridor, instinctively looking both ways. He wanted to avoid sneak mockery where he could. However, he couldn’t have predicted how eager the team was to see his getup. It was a deafening chorus of whoops and hollers when he finally did step in sight of the men. Apparently this new ceremony was fast becoming a highly anticipated event. “Hey Nurse! I have a bedpan here ya might wanna change.†“Blimey! Take my temperature Doc, cause I’m hot all over.†Medic didn’t have the tenacity to take it in his stride like Spy did. Every jibe stung as much as a hypodermic needle. Occasionally he would take the bait and snap back with vitriol. “Ja, ja. Let’s all haff a big chuckle. Perhaps you vill not find it so funny tomorrow vhen nobody is healing your severed limbs!†A large palm squeezed his shoulder and momentarily distracted Medic from the jeering crowd. “Doktor does not look so bad.†Heavy looked down at Medic sheepishly. “Ah Heavy,†Medic sagged. He was tired of fighting back. “You are alvays kind. But you do not need to lie.†Heavy’s eyebrows crinkled together in a frown. “Is not so fair. Doktor is always helping team. I could not kill so many coward babies without.†“Zhat is true, but ze imbecile Soldier does not see it zhat way. I am resigned to play zhis absurd role until he grows a brain.†Heavy listened to Medic silently and twiddled his enormous fingers, occasionally sneaking glances at the hem of Medic’s dress. Medic didn’t have the patience for indirect hints. He huffed and looked Heavy in the eye. “If you haff somezing to say, zhen say it!†Heavy hesitated, and then said; “I do not lie. Doktor does look nice…†Any response that hung on Medic’s breath would never be known. Demoman was quick to interrupt the pair with a pained expression stretched across his face. “Ah don’t mean tae interrupt yer pleasantries, but ah got a wee bittova problem Doc.†“Oh, so you are running out of obscene comments to say about me?†“Eh…†A bead of sweat dripped down Demo’s brow. “Nooo. I ne’er do a thing like tha’. Honest ta god.†Medic peered at Demoman in suspicion. His distress seemed genuine enough, but when wearing a frilly nurse’s outfit, Medic couldn’t be too sure. Demoman gripped the front of Medic’s dress with white knuckles. “Please Doc, yea’ve got no idea.†“Would Doktor like help?†Heavy watched over the scene, more than happy to step in and take preventative action. Medic looked around the room and at all the juvenile men who were still looking at him and elbowing each other swapping crude jokes. It dawned on him that this was exactly the opportunity he was looking for. He grabbed Demoman and pressed a hand to his forehead in a pantomime of medical care. “Mein gott! You are ill. Dying even! I must take you to ze infirmary at vunce. Ve can’t delay!†Heavy hovered over them looking confused. “Leetle man does not look so sick.†“Trust me Heavy, I am a doctor. Zhis is a very serious case. It might take all night. No need to follow me.†And then as an afterthought he added; “and don’t let anyvun interrupt!†He pushed the grateful Scot out through the door. Demoman was clearly in a sensitive state. The way he was walked reminded Medic of a cowboy from one of those films that Soldier liked so much. It was peculiar but Medic was not the one to complain right now. As soon as they reached the infirmary, Medic shut and locked the door with lightning speed and leaned against it sighing, relieved to be away from the mockery. “Schweinhunds,†he murmured. “I knoo yer havin’ a moment an all, bu’ I have a pressin’ matter tae attend to.†“Ach! Fine.†Medic kicked off his ridiculous slippers and pulled out some fresh gloves from the supply cabinet. He snapped them on, satisfied to have a familiar piece of clothing back on his person. The tulle material of his dress was beginning to itch against his thighs when he walked. He was sure that actual candystripers did not have that particular fashion choice incorporated in their uniforms. It was impractical if anything else. “So vhat is ze problem?†He assessed Demoman’s pained posture. He remained standing, even though the medical table was right next to him. “Constipation? You really must amend your diet, Herr Demo. Zhere is not too much fiber in ethanol.†“Ah… s’not quite right but ye gettin’ warmer.†Curious, Medic approached Demo. “Do you haff an injury from ze battle today zhat I vas not made aware of?†“Ehh, not exactly. Listen doc, I cannae take much more a’ this.†“Vell, I cannot treat you if you do not describe your symptoms.†At this, Demoman’s discomfort only seemed to increase. He gripped his flak jacket and moved his weight from foot to foot. “Ye’ promise ta tell noone aboot this? I’m not sure ah can live it doon.†“Demo, you are trying my patience. Please remove your garments so zhat I can inspect you, danke.†Demoman tenderly turned to face the table. He took great care to unbuckle his pants, allowing them to drop down in a crumpled heap around his ankles. He groaned and bent over slightly to rest his arms against the gurney. “If ye have any forceps, tha’ be mightily appreciated.†Medic approached curiously. “So vat is ze prob-MEIN GOTT!†Demoman buried his face in his hands. “Ah knoo! But I cannae get it out! Ye’ve got tae help me!†How Demoman had managed it, Medic would not know. Inserted deep into his rectum was the toe end of a shiny black high heel shoe. The heel of this foreign object pressed against his testicles, looking very uncomfortable. It was simultaneously comical and horrifying. “Demo, vhat is the meaning of zhis?!†“I couldnae help me’self Doc. It’s been so long since ah’ felt the touch of a lass. All these pretty clothes have been drivin’ me crazy.†“And so you thought inserting Spy’s shoe into your anus vould be an adequate substitute? You are a disturbed man Herr Demo.†Medic rummaged through the supply cabinet again and put another pair of gloves over the top of his first pair. He didn’t want to risk catching Demoman’s mental illness via skin contact. Demoman hung his head in shame. “Jus’ get me out of this. Ah, promise I’ll ne’er touch a shoe again.†Medic pulled a chair over and sat down to begin the unpleasant job of removing the item in question. “You vill be lucky if you haff not perforated your bowel.†He smeared some medical lubricant across Demo’s orifice and began to slowly tug at the shoe. Demoman jumped. “Ah, tha’s colder than a penguin’s tit.†“I am afraid you haff only yourself to blame. If I vas no so disgusted, I vould be impressed. Spy is a size 12.†It took some time, but Medic was finally able to extract the shoe. He scrunched his nose as he threw it into a nearby bedpan. Demoman was nearly transcendent with relief. “Ahhhh, oh me lord. Oh mother o’ Christ! Ah feel like ah’ve shat a horse.†As a matter of precaution, Medic trained his medigun on Demoman’s exposed buttocks. He let the healing vapours do their job while Demoman panted, still bent over the table. “Zhere appears to be no permanent damage. Except perhaps to my psyche.†“Ye a gift from God Doctor.†“You are not excused yet. I feel it necessary to give you a thorough psychiatric examination.†Demoman wiggled his hips, still basking in the glow of relief. Finally he pulled his pants back up and moved to sit comfortably on the bench. Now that there wasn’t a shoe wedged up his nether regions, he could concentrate on other matters. Specifically, the fact that Medic was dressed in a nurse’s outfit. “Yea have a real woman’s touch Doc. Are ye goin tae charge me for this?†“Okay! Ze psychiatric assessment is ovah!†He rose from his seat and walked to the door, his skirt bouncing with each stride. Unlocking and opening it, he gestured at the corridor. “Out. Now.†“Alright, alright. Ah can take a hint ye crank.†Demoman slid of the table and walked through the door. He looked back at the Medic with a sly smile. “It must be tha’ time o’ the month.†Medic slammed the door so hard the windows rattled.
That Demoman, always such a pioneer... I definitely feel more sorry for Medic, there. At least the Medic has a way to bypass any friendly fire safeguards to enjoy bloody vengeance on his teammates.
I blacked out from laughing.
SO MANY LOLS. SO MANY!! Oh, God, I love this story so much. And I'm SO GLAD that you put him in a nurse outfit, that was EXACTLY what I was hoping for!! Ahh, man.. this story is inspiring me on a daily basis to draw TF2 characters in drag... specifically the costumes you described. I love it. Though, I'm not so sure my teachers love it.. yanno. Manly men in flouncy skirts and fishnets on my assignments. Hmm... Also, Heavy. So cute.
Oh holy gods. Amazing. You have Demoman's expletives perfect. ALL your characterisations are perfect, including Medic putting gloves on his gloves. Brilliant. 23 Come on, share with the rest of us. To /fanart (or /workshop if you're shy) on the double!
>>20 You got a legit LOL out of me for this one. That doesn't happen much when I read fics. Golden.
I love it. I love all of it. It's the first best thing ever. The Spy chapter has to be my favourite. Only the Spy could love dressing like that and know how to manipulate everyone whilst wearing it.
Oh my god, this is so amazing, I am dying! The most fun I've had reading anything on here in a good long time. Damn. Please do keep up the good work, this is great. And in other news, I'm a bit surprised to find everyone so squeamish about crossdressing, considering the nature of... Well, anyway. Good work!
Are you magic? I totally wanted tf2 in drag. Will there be a coyote ugly engie? And a kilt sporting demo?
>>28 Pfft. Kilts are manly. I'm half-hoping to see a Scarlett O'Hara Engie, but I hadn't thought of Coyote Ugly. Want more.
>>29 I agree. Kilts are all about leg hair and honour. I already know what I'm going to dress Demo in, and it will be the most womanly woman's dress ever made for a woman.
He could always follow another stereotype entirely-- the part of him that's black.
>>30 Can I have a hint? Pretty please with a sticky bomb on top?
> No spoilers for anyone. But I will tell you that Heavy is next.
>>33 I AM SO EXCITED.
>>24 I-I'm not that good, really. I'm actually VERY self-conscious, but, for you, a fellow fan of cross-dressing. I must share this. http://tf2chan.net/workshop/res/1682.html
I honestly didn't think I'd enjoy this story as much as I am. But this is just... brilliant. Thank you thank you thank you!
GOOD LORD, DEMO. Just ... GOOD LORD I laughed so hard, oh man. You are comedy gold, dear author. ... Even though I halfhoped for Medic being put into a classic dirndl. I can't help being German!
I am notoriously quiet on the afan threads, but I honest to god HAD to post a response to this. So I could tell you it was the single greatest thing I have ever read. Just, oh my god.
I hope you make Engie the belle of the ball.
Why? WHY DO I LIKE THIS?
When I saw the title, I was dubious. I'm sorry for ever doubting you, oh Goddess of the Drag.
Heavy is next? I don't know how he would ever have the lowest kills, but i don't really care. I can't wait!
I'm usually not much of a crossdressing fan either, but this... This is just wonderful and hilarious. >>37 I agree, I would've loved to see a dirndl for Medic as well. (and I can relate, I am Austrian.)
Oh God I laughed.
Chapter 4! Now with more Heavy. Also, I finally bought TF2 (I am not so good at it). I currently have one Steam friend so if anyone wants to ease my loneliness my username is Cazumarzu (like the maggoty cheese). Anyway, let's proceed! * Medic was the ‘lady’ of the base for three more days before Heavy took pity on him. It broke Heavy’s giant heart to witness the intelligent and dignified doctor locking himself in a toilet cubicle to avoid the incessant laughter of the men. Heavy decided that he would not allow this to happen again. The next day, for the first time in living memory, Heavy did not participate in a fight. In the heat of battle, with everyone shooting and swearing around him, Heavy simply stood in place scratching his nose. Sacha was cold and idle by his side. He silently asked for his weapon’s forgiveness and promised that in the next match he would kill twice as many coward babies. It wasn’t long before Medic figured out what he was doing and begged him to reconsider. Heavy didn’t deserve such a terrible fate. Heavy simply shrugged and looked at the sky. “Is nice day. Too nice for fighting. Doktor should go ahead. Will catch up later.†Medic’s eyes glistened with emotion and he whispered, “You are too good to me.†Before he could burst out in tears, Medic turned and ran towards the battle, bonesaw in hand and coat tails flapping behind him. Heavy sighed as he watched his Doctor go. He didn’t like missing out on a fight but there would always be others. Naturally, the REDs lost that particular fight. Soldier screamed at Heavy until his face turned purple. What kind of useless COMMUNIST forfeits a match and DISGRACES his team? He let the BLU’s just walk past him without even so much as a threatening gesture. In one instance Heavy actually gave the BLU Scout directions on the quickest route to the Intel room. In Soldier’s words, if all the dishonorable men from all the armies of dishonor formed their own army of dishonorable men, Heavy would be the most dishonorable man of that army. Heavy took this verbal abuse with solemnity. He didn’t interrupt Soldier’s tirade to make any protest, and when it was over he retired to his room without a word. Whatever Soldier had prepared for him couldn’t be worse than state of misery that Medic was being subjected to. Heavy hoped that his sacrifice would open the floor to negotiation regarding Medic’s role on the team. But for now there were some practical hurdles that he had to face. After some considerable struggle squirming into the tight fitted outfit, Heavy very nearly conceded defeat. There were certain kinds of clothing that just weren’t designed for a man of his stature. He poked his head out his bedroom door and was relieved to see Medic fretfully pacing the hallway. “Doktor,†he whispered. “I am needing help.†Medic looked up, startled. He rushed over nearly tripping over his feet. “Oh Heavy. You dummkopf! You did not need to do this for me.†Heavy shrugged. “Is not problem if it is for you. But… if Doctor could help with shoes. Is hard to do alone.†Medic stared back at Heavy, horror frozen in his features. Heavy tapped a large finger gently on Medic’s forehead, concerned by this sudden change in behavior. “Is this alright? Did I say a bad thing?†Medic blinked several times before he shook his head roughly, snapping out of his trance. “Nein. Forgive me, I vas remembering a bad dream. May I ask… vhat is your particular concern with ze shoes?†“The leetle ribbons. There are so many of them. I am getting confused on how to tie them.†Medic looked ready to faint with relief. “Vell, that is something I think can handle. Let me in bitte.†Heavy gave the hallway a quick survey, making sure there were no uninvited eyes watching. When he felt assured, he opened the door its full width to allow the doctor in his room. He turned his gaze away, knowing that Medic’s reaction was not going to be a positive one. Medic stared at Heavy, momentarily stunned. He knew that ladies clothing was never going to flatter Heavy, but he had not prepared himself for the sight that was now assaulting his eyes. “Oh, mein Heavy,†he breathed. “Vhat haff they done to you?†“Is not so bad,†murmured Heavy, his large hands brushing his ruffled tutu nervously. In a bizarre homage to Russia’s art scene, he was now wearing a prima ballerina dress. The white leotard was stretched to its limit as it strained to encompass Heavy’s sizable girth. If the dress was taken out of the context of a trained gun-for-hire, it was actually quite beautiful. Shiny pearl beads were sewn in intricate patterns, swirling up Heavy’s torso, shimmering when he moved. He had delicate silk stockings pulled up his squat legs. Cream feathers were stitched into the folds of the tutu, and the whole outfit was capped off with a glittering tiara with sprouting swan feathers that sat absurdly atop Heavy’s bald head. It was everything that Heavy wasn’t. “You cannot go out there wearing zhat. You vill be a laughing stock!†Heavy looked down at his getup, assessing it thoughtfully. “I have solution. If tiny man laugh, I crush them. Is simple.†“Oh Heavy,†Medic sighed. “If only it vere zhat easy. If you cut Scout’s head off, I’m sure he vould learn sign language just to continue taunting you. Zhere is a strange power zhat comes with idiocy.†Heavy sat on his bed, springs groaning with the weight. “It takes more than leetle lady dress to hurt Heavy Weapons Guy.†“Ja, vell. I hope you can remind yourself zhat when you are out zhere amongst those imbeciles. Let’s get your shoes on before Soldier arrives vith his obnoxious yelling.†Heavy was quiet while Medic help tug his satin ballet slippers on, enjoying the contact more than he could admit. The doctor appeared strangely reassured by the fact that the slippers were made from a soft, malleable material. Lacing up the long ribbon up Heavy’s stout calves was a minor challenge, but Medic’s dexterous hands made short work of it. Finally Heavy’s outfit was complete. He twiddled his feet, unused to wearing such snug footwear. When his eyes withdrew from watching Medic, his gaze travelled up and over his body. His bulbous paunch that overhung the fine weave of the tutu did nothing to compliment it. The white stockings were so stretched they were almost transparent. Heavy realized that that all the imperfections of his body that he had contentedly ignored for so many years were suddenly put in sharp focus. Nothing could be hidden in this dress. “Is everything okay?†The concerned Medic asked, still awkwardly squatted at Heavy’s feet. It was a very rare occasion when Heavy let his true vulnerability shine through. His fiddled with the bed sheets as he avoided Medic’s eye contact. A shadow of sadness crossed his face. “Doktor…†He said quietly. “Yes, Heavy.†“This dress… is it making me look fat?†Medic had not been expecting this question. He almost laughed out loud with the absurdity of it. He wisely stifled the urge. Heavy looking down on him with doe eyes was more than he had prepared for. Sometimes it was easy to forget that even bloodthirsty mercenaries with multi-barrel heavy machine guns had feelings too. He stood up and gripped Heavy’s face with both hands, making sure he was looking deep into the Russian’s eyes. “Heavy. You are not fat. You are four times the man zhan anyone here on zhis base. No one else vould have ze courage to do zhis for their friend. Now go out zhere and show zhem vhat you are made of!†“Da!†Medic’s little speech reignited the fire in Heavy. Perhaps it was his attire that had opened up this well of emotion in Heavy, or maybe it was simple Medic’s kind words, but something inside him compelled the large man to throw caution to the wind that night. He pulled the stunned doctor into a bruising kiss, feeling his tutu crumple between their bodies. The randomness of this action meant that Medic didn’t put up much resistance. They stayed like that for a full minute, sharing every breath. When Heavy finally pulled away, Medic was at a completely and utterly stunned. Heavy held his head up, completely returned to his jovial self. He fixed his tutu and headed out the door, bellowing as he moved. “Look out world, I am coming for you! Do ho ho!†Medic remained in the room with his glasses askew on his nose, gaping in shock. * It was a testament to Heavy’s influence that even when dressed as a dainty ballerina he did not earn open public ridicule. There were jokes of course, but they were far less confrontational than the kind Medic had experienced. Heavy’s ten-pound fists were also working in his favor. Scout’s teeth could vouch for that. It couldn’t be denied though, that Heavy did look ridiculous. Perhaps it wasn’t his costume, but more his movement when he walked. Heavy did not float like a feather so much as roll like a boulder. His ballet slippers, designed for point dancing and pirouetting instead scraped across the ground with as much care as a man who wore tissue boxes on his feet. Spy was the first to step in with suggestions. “Non, non, non! You cannot treat such finery so carelessly. Ballet is a respected art. It is ‘urting my soul to watch you.†“And leetle Spy thinks he knows better?†Heavy approached the wiry man, not looking so open to suggestion. “All I am saying is zhat ballet takes years to master ze technique. You must be respectful of ze tradition.†Spy realized he was going to have to do some hasty backpedaling. The sound of Heavy’s cracking knuckles made his blood hurt. Fortunately, it was Sniper of all people who rescued him from this dire situation. “I used to do ballet.†He said, not even looking up from the paper he was reading. “Que?†Spy’s head nearly spun 180 degrees. Heavy also tilted his head up, surprised at this revelation. Engineer, who was trying to unobtrusively eavesdrop on this conversation couldn’t help but let out a snort over his blueprints. Sniper put his paper down to peer over his aviators. “Oh, so you think that’s funny do you?†“Ah didn’t say nothin’.†Engineer fiddled with his slide rule and pretended to do some technical drawing. “I’ll have you know that’s it’s a fine sport. Mind you, I was just a tyke when I did it.†Spy ducked under Heavy’s arm to approach the Australian, who was beginning to regret ever saying anything. “Forgive me Sniper, it is just… you do not seem ze type for it.†“And why is that? Cause I’m a professional killer? That don’t mean I’m uncultured. I tell you what, I’m getting bloody sick of these stereotypes, strewth!†The gears in Spy’s head were already turning. He slithered over to Sniper and rested a hand delicately on his shoulder. “If this is so, zhen perhaps you could show our dear Heavy a few basic steps, non? If would be a shame if such a beautiful dress did not see its potential.†“Oh no. That ain’t happening. Not a chance.†Sniper slumped further down on the couch, almost pulling the paper over his head. Engineer looked back up from his work, unable to contain himself. “Well I’ll be darned if ah wasn’t curious. The best I’ve ever done is a barn dance.†Heavy approached the group, trying to follow the conversation. “Leetle Sniper will dance for me?†Sniper threw his paper down and sat up. “For the last bleedin’ time, I said no! Like I said, it was a long time ago. It’ll be a cold day in Kakadu before you see me gettin’ me tights back on.†Spy threw his hands up in a resignation. “C’est la vie. It is only to be expected. You are now an old man after all. We can ‘ardly expect you to be capable of the physical demands zhat ballet requires. You cannot sit still all day pissing in jars and expect zhat you will retain your physical aptitude.†Five minutes later Sniper was up and showing Heavy the five ballet positions. “Listen mate, ye’ve gotta push your feet out more.†“Am trying! Is not so easy to do.†Heavy was sweating in concentration. His attempt at turning his feet out into the first position was proving harder than expected. For all the strength he could claim his name to, Heavy only had a fraction of the flexibility. “Stop bending your legs like that. And straighten your back! You look like you’re straining on the dunny.†Spy and Engineer watched in fascination. Spy, who was a connoisseur of classical ballet, was muffling his mirth with chain smoking. Engineer couldn’t help but be impressed with Sniper’s knowledge on the subject. It certainly was a brutal pastime. “We haven’t even gotten to fifth position yet. Blimey!†Sniper threw his hat down on the ground in frustration. All the memories of his childhood were rushing back to him. The torment of perfecting the plié. The exhilaration of his first jeté. He looked back at Heavy who was utterly forlorn in his failure. For a moment Sniper was overcome with homesickness. Some sympathy welled in his heart and he decided to take pity on the big man. “Ah, keep your chin up mate. Takes years to get it right.†Heavy looked down at the ground. “Is sad day to be giant man.†Sniper breathed in, remembering his glory days. “Solo ballet is fine, but the best part is when you’re dancing with a partner. Nothin’ like liftin’ a pretty Sheila over your head.†Heavy immediately perked at this. “Lifting. This I can do!†He grabbed Sniper by the waist, and before he even realized what was happening, Sniper was dangling straight over Heavy’s head. “Bloody hell! The lady ain’t supposed to lift the bloke!†Spy breathed out a plume of smoke. “Pah. Sloppy technique.†It was exactly at this inopportune time that Scout made his reappearance, clutching an icepack to his jaw. He stopped for a moment and looked at the scene in front of him. “Whoa, whoa, whoa! Warn me the next time you wanna practice your erotic dancing, twinkle toes.†After that Heavy was more than happy to give Scout his own personal demonstration of the ‘Nutcracker’.
Oh dear lord does this make me far more happy than it should...
Heavy is such a white knight to his Doktor, I love it. I also love how much of a dickweed Scout is. Can't wait to see him get his.
I won't lie. This is the best chapter of any story I've ever read ever. Not exaggerating. Not even a little. Heavy's chapter is the best so far, and I am actually exhausted from laughing so hard. Thank you. Thank you very much.
Definitely the best chapter of what has been an all-around amazing story, so far. The part with the Sniper was unexpected, and made it interesting as well as hilarious.
Omg haha that was amazing! So much happiness. I was really hoping you hadn't forgotten about this story! I just finished drawing your French Maid Spy and started on Medic, too~ Anyways. So cute. I love that Heavy is such a dear to Medic. And that Sniper knows ballet. That really made me giggle~ Great stuff, man! Thoroughly enjoyed it.
You know, I didn't think I'd enjoy this as much as I do because of my indifference to cross-dressing, but I gotta say... here I am smiling, like an idiot. I will have you know that I'd give anything to see Scout in a 1920s flapper dress, complete with long sleeve evening gloves and matching hat. He's got the skinny figure for it. Anyway... I got to thinking about the outfits and I went looking for pictures. SOLDIER http://www.weird-websites.info/Weird-Fashions/Shortest-Skirts/images/Skimpy-micro-mini-skirt-andlong-black-boots.jpg - except with a pink boob tube and higher boots SPY http://www.costumexpress.ie/images/Black_white_French_Maid.jpg - note the size of the shoes? MEDIC http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/31d6sb1SzAL.jpg - maybe not the high heels, but you get the idea. Also, (I would kill for a picture of Medic in this dress, pulling the same pose.) HEAVY http://www.film-forward.com/ballerina.jpg - complete with feathers.
Reading this made me so very happy. I agree; probably the best yet! I'm particularly looking forward to the Pyro!
I just sprayed water all over my laptop from laughing. I should have known better than to drink while reading this. Congratulations. You made me almost break my computer. Please, continue. I think I love heavy all the more now.
Someone with talent needs to draw these guys dressed that like that. It would be great!
Sniper ... teaching Heavy ballet? Tears of joy are cascading down my cheeks.
>>51 For the Medic, I'm currently working on something very similar to that... I'll keep the pose in mind when I draw him. I will provide links. But for now, Here. Soldier. http://tf2chan.net/workshop/src/130499951473.jpg I uhh. I shaded him better, so I'll link that as well as Maid Spy when I scan it.
Shaded Solly. http://tf2chan.net/workshop/src/130532914438.jpg Maid Spy. http://tf2chan.net/workshop/src/130532920279.jpg SUPER ROUGH Concept Sketch for Nurse Medic. http://tf2chan.net/workshop/src/130532924694.jpg I am sorry.. I know my art really isn't the best and stuff... But I hope I can make at least one of you smile.
Rasp, Spy made me the happiest. I think you hit the nail on the head with that one. This chapter was so cute, though. I didn't know whether to burst out laughing or start... chuckling when Heavy asked if the dress made him look fat, though. I felt so bad for him. But at the same time.... I didn't. Oh, Medic, you're a better man than I could ever be.
>>51 Your Google skills impress me. I'll admit I didn't even use a Google reference when I wrote the description of Soldier, so I'm amazed that you found a picture so close to my mental image. >>56 All this fanart is making me blush. Before this fic no one had drawn anything based my my writing. Now I'm inundated. It pleases me. And I really should start drawing again. It just takes so much gosh darn time.
>>57 MY DAY. IT HAS BEEN MADE. Thank you, kind sir! May your Internets be fast and bountiful!
spy in a maid uniform you honestly have no idea how big of a kink of mine that is and i honestly hope you end up doing something hot for each of the classes in their femme wear. i'm also excited for scout's outfit.
The one crossdressing TF2 image I'd seen before reading this - http://i52.tinypic.com/315mzwo.jpg - is nothing in comparison to your descriptions, Banimal. The characterizations and interactions are spot on as well. I'm looking forward to the rest of the classes!
>>62 I... Guh... where did this come from?! Why am I so excited by it?! What have you people done to me?! Sniper in an evening dress... I - I gotta go do some... stuff. Yeah. I'll be back later.
oh man oh god oh man oh god I DIED . NO KIDDING
This update has totally made my night. I LOVE everything so far (particularly the Sniper ballet bit) and can easily say that this is now one of my favorite fanfics. I can't wait for the next installment.
hnnnnng this is so good. I kind if really hope that Scout ends up in a Cheerleaders uniform, preferably for the Sox.
My friend's been reading this, and wants me to say that she will absolutely die and go to heaven if either a skin-tight cat suit is included in this, or a sexy schoolgirl (a la Britney Spears) outfit. I like the latter, personally, but I'm just anxious to see who's up next.
Seconding Scout in cheerleader uniform. Also, this chapter was so adorable I had to smile and d'awww throughout its entirety.
I adored this. I have to make a sugestion for Pyro... I don't think his suit should be taken off, possibly replaced by a tighter fitting one instead. I was thinking along the lines of 60's or 70's techno-space fashion, where it's glittery and possibly pieced together. I especialy love how you wrote Sniper taking ballet, I think that explains a lot about his family issues. mfw> "The exhilaration of his first jeté."
>>57 When it's with the medic, I like it rough. This is also the best fic.
Medic. http://tf2chan.net/workshop/src/130569403963.jpg Working on Heavy. Did a rough sketch earlier today but... Agh, his legs looked SO derp so I didn't scan it. Also, thanks for the support! It really made me happy people liked 'em so far!
Every time this fic updates, it is the best day of my life. I'm excited to see Engineer, personally.
>>71 The hat. THE HAT I TELL YOU. Honestly, if I had a hat like that in-game, I'd talk like a derpy nurse all the time and only heal the Heavies. The reactions would be nothing short of priceless.
This fic, there are no words. You have pulled it off amazingly, and everytime I see on the chan that it 'updated' my heart skips a beat and I run over all excited, ESPECIALLY when it actually updates and it's not just a comment. So far, my gosh the Heavy just, oh man my favorite so far. I was NOT expecting that in the slightest, and I love it so much! @ RASP you are making my life with those drawings, can't wait for you to draw Heavy!! @ ZE Doktor I swear when I first read this fic I was doing the same thing, hanging around google trying to find good look-alikes for their outfits . Can't wait for more!
Everytime this updates, I get such happiness in wondering what 'torture' the next class'll be put through next. It's a brilliant idea, an awesome concept, and there should be more fanart for it. Awesome work from you and RASP. I hope for every chapter written, there will be an accompanying picture.
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Heavy. http://tf2chan.net/workshop/src/130596393845.jpg I know, I know, there are some serious anatomy problems, but please understand, this is my first time drawing a full-body shot of Heavy. That poor, poor man. @Banimal: I now await your next chapter with bated breath and a hand that cannot wait to draw what you come up with.
Rasp, I'll love you forever if you'll draw something cute with Medic and Heavy in their outfits. Hee, Heavy looks so graceful. Sort of. In a giant killer mercenary way.
BAHAHA. I love this. I will be waiting for an update as patiently as possible.
>>78 Ze Doktor. This is for you, because you make me very happy and you're so supportive. ♥ http://tf2chan.net/workshop/src/130602482848.png Le gasp!! I know, it's digital art for once.
Oh, you are too good to me! Rasp, I will write a story just for you - name your pairing and details, and I will get to work.
Oh my GAWD. As an on-the-side costume designer, everything in this thread-- especially the fanart-- makes me squee.
O-oh my God, really?? *tears of happiness* That means a lot considering I absolutely loved your fic Misunderstandings. Hmm... in all honesty, I would totally love some Sniper / Spy stuff. If you could, I would die if you somehow made Sniper be a stripper for Spy. But, hey, anything would be amazing!
Rasp, I wish I could draw half as well as you could. Congrats.
>>83 I know I have no room for input, but I too would love to see what Rasp suggested. The mere thought of Sniper stripping gets me moist in various places. DIRTY places. Ahh yeah.
>>83 >>85 I have been struck by inspiration. You may expect a Sniper/Spy story as you request once I do the last chapter of Misunderstandings. Once again, thank you, Rasp. Cutest picture ever.
I'd just like to say thankyou to all the positive comments. They both flatter me and worry me because this story isn't Pulitzer winning stuff. This is the last chapter until I finish my semester in three weeks. Chapter Five! * It was the blinding light of the afternoon sun that eventually woke Demoman from his alcoholic stupor. It burned into his eyeball like white-hot magnesium. He rolled onto his back with a groan. There was nothing like an daytime hangover to greet you from your slumber. “Aww, me bleeding ballsacks. Ah could puke me kidneys out.†True to his word, Demoman leaned to the side and expunged a truly remarkable amount of viscous vomit. After he gave a few more dry heaves and was sure that there wasn’t a drop of bile left in his gut, he lay back down on the ground. His vision hadn’t quite returned yet. Demoman would attribute this to his eye injury. Any correlation between heavy drinking and sight impairment had no scientific foundation, and you could smoke a hairy horse cock if you suggested it. He rubbed the crust out of his good eye. He was all too familiar with the process. It took a few minutes to remember who he was, then where he was, and lastly, why he was there. He was usually good to go after he cleared up those minor details. He surveyed his surroundings. There was a high wooden ceiling above him with long oak rafters. When he turned his head away from the puddle of vomit he could smell the earthy scent of hay. Well, now he knew where he was. For whatever reason he had passed out in the hayloft that was built into the side of the RED base. He gurgled some incomprehensible expletives and hoisted himself into an upright position. The room span with his movement and despite recently voiding it, his stomached lurched. His memory was a blurry haze. He could vaguely remember that he had a job to do. It could have been an important job, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Demoman had bigger problems right now, and that was getting down the ladder that led to the ground level of the barn. When he took his first few wobbling steps he knew that something wasn’t quite right. He couldn’t feel the comforting weight of his flak jacket on his chest and his feet were missing his well-worn steel capped boots. He blearily looked down and squinted, trying to gain some focus on what he was seeing. He was wearing some kind of puffy white material. That was all he could determine at this point in time, so he made the executive decision to deal with it later. He managed to take shaky steps down the ladder, and when he reached the ground level he had to lean against the wall to take a recovery break. Inebriation had the uncanny ability to reduce a grown man’s motor skills to that of an infant. Demoman turned to face the wall. Nature was calling and finding a bathroom was beyond anything he could achieve now. He managed to hoist the white fabric up around his hairy thighs and take his cock in hand to relieve himself against the wall. “Ahhh, tha’s heaven!†Lost in the bliss of urination, he was more than a little perturbed to have the moment interrupted by a blaring voice. It pierced his skull like a sniper’s bullet. “If it isn’t sleeping beauty coming out of her magical princess slumber. Well it’s WAKEY WAKEY time maggot!†Demoman clutched at his head and tried to keep his brains from leaking out his ears. “Keep yer fookin’ voice down! I can hardly hear me’self piss.†“What’s that? You don’t like the sound of my voice?! Well you know what I don’t like the sound of, private? Members of my infantry deciding to go AWOL! And for the love of Jesus, Mary and Joseph, put that thing away!†Demoman looked down drowsily and realized he still had his limp cock in hand. He gave himself a few shakes and attempted to tuck himself away. He was puzzled to discover the zip to his fly missing. In fact, his pants themselves had mysteriously disappeared. Demoman shrugged and just let the white material drop back down by his ankles. Once again, a conundrum he would solve later. “What’re ye going on aboot? Yer ravin’ like a loon†All the yelling could not have avoided drawing attention. Medic ducked his head in to see what all the commotion was about. He had to do a double take, and then pressed a gloved hand to his mouth to cover his grin. “Ah! Demo. Some members of our team vere taking bets on vhen you would awake. I guess I owe Herr Sniper twenty dollars. Disappointing.†“Awake?†Demoman swirled the word around. His mouth tasted like whiskey and compost. “How long have ah been out of it?†“Vell, let’s see, you have been catatonic now for nearly…†Medic looked at his watch, “two days. Once again you impress me with your inhuman ability to abuse yourself. I would give you a physical to assess ze damage, but regrettably I am running low on fresh gloves.†Demoman steadied his swaying by leaning against the wall. “Yer pullin’ me leg. If I were out fer two day ah’d think ah would remember it.†“You want to know who remembers it?†Asked Soldier, brandishing his shovel. “ME! You have missed not one but TWO scheduled battles. This is a punishable offence!†Demoman belched and took an unsteady step towards the pair. “And whatcher goin’ tae do? Dress me up as a lassie? I’ll cut me own head off before ye can even try.†Soldier and Medic paused to look at each other. It was Medic who took on the job of breaking the bad news. He cleared his throat before he tentatively addressed Demoman. “I am afraid Herr Soldier has already taken ze liberty. Do not ask me how he managed it.†“Wha?†Soldier was unapologetic. “You were not in a coherent state to satisfactorily dress yourself. I had to take the initiative!†“Err, perhaps you should find yourself a mirror, Demo. My descriptions could not prepare you.†Demoman eyed his two colleagues suspiciously. Even with a monster of a hangover he still had the instinct to detect treachery. He even considered punching Soldier in the face. If Medic’s claims of his unsolicited change in attire proved to be false, it would still be satisfying. It was Demoman’s pounding head and parched throat that eventually proved to be the decider. The small amount of energy he had produced to be outraged blew from his sails. He just couldn’t care right now. “Ah fook it.†He sighed, and pushed his way past the men. “I can take what ye’ throw at me. Get out ah’ me way.†Soldier and Medic watched Demoman wander back to the base fully aware of what would be in store for him. Medic called out to him. “I varn you Demo, zhis is more zhan an ordinary man can tolerate.†Either Demoman didn’t hear him or didn’t care. He wandered away until he was out of sight. The train of his dress dragged in the dirt behind him. Medic sighed. “Soldier, vhat even goes on in your head?†“It’s called tactical humiliation, Fritz. Look it up!†* Medic wasn’t wrong. The laughter from the men reached a deafening level, which really wasn’t helping Demoman’s hangover. “Oh look fellas! It’s the bride to be. Shoulda kept the veil over her face.†“Groom has not turned up. This is not big surprise.†“You’ll be walkin’ the aisle a long time mate. Hope ya didn’t put a deposit on the honeymoon.†Even Pyro joined in by humming a vey muffled rendition of the wedding march. Demoman had to hold up the bunched material to walk properly. He gracelessly strode past their jeering, making a beeline for the bathroom. He was just about ready to chunder again, and this time he couldn’t be sure if it was the hangover or the humiliation. Bursting into the cool tiled room, he lunged for the sink and turned the faucet on full-bore. He drenched his face in the water and relished in its cleansing coldness. When he was satisfied he turned off the taps and drew attention to his sorry reflection staring back at him. The first thing he noticed was the now wet white veil pinned to his woolly hair. Tiny white pearls rimmed the tulle, following its length down the back oh his head. He blinked in surprise. This was not what he had been expecting. The shock of the water and enough time between drinks had cleared Demoman’s vision. He looked south to survey the damage. “Aww nooo.†He groaned. It was far worse than he could have ever imagined. The eggshell white of the dress was shockingly bright against his dark skin. The tight strapless upper half fit snugly against his abdomen. Garish rhinestones were sewn into the satin, subtracting from the elegance of the dress. Thick black chest hair cresting over the top of the v-cut was probably not what the designer had intended. He placed his hands at his waist where the tightly fitted corset met an explosion of fabric. Layers upon layers of under-tulle and shiny satin made the whole outfit resemble a fluffy meringue. Demoman hadn’t been to many weddings, but even he knew this was a tasteless dress. No self-respecting bride would marry herself wearing this thing. A snooty French voice startled him from his thoughts. Spy leaned against the far wall, smoking and smirking.†I do not like to break a woman’s heart, but désolé, I am not ze type of man who can commit.†“Fook off ye ratbag. I don’t have time for ye.†“Now, now. I do not expect such language from a blushing virgin bride.†“Ye ever been hit by ah bride?†He balled his hands into fists. “Ah’m ready fer it!†Spy flicked his spent cigarette butt away. “Oui, once. But that is another story.†Demoman eyed Spy warily. To say that he was edge today would be an understatement. If Spy was intimidated, he didn’t show it. He approached Demoman and trailed his gloved hand down the front of the dress. He tapped his finger on one of the oversized rhinestones and sighed in disapproval. “I did think Soldier could do better than this. His recent dress choices ‘ave been so on ze mark.†Demoman pulled away from Spy, his good eye shooting darts at the Frenchman. “An jus’ what is tha’ suppose tae mean?†Spy stepped back and brushed some lint off his tie. “I see you ‘ave not noticed. I shall explain. Soldier has been quite clever choosing costumes that will cause us ze greatest ‘umiliation. For example, our good Doctor could not bear dressing down as a lowly nurse.†“Do ye have a point?†“I ‘appen to know that you are a bachelor, Demoman. You ‘ave not once been married, if your company records are anything to trust.†Demoman didn’t like where this was going. “Aye, what aboot it?†“Does this not strike you as unusual? Unless, perhaps…†“Jus’ bloody spit it out!†“Perhaps that is ze point. After all, who would want to marry a black, Scottish Cyclops with a drinking problem? Demoman took a swing at the Spy. His motor coordination was still impaired and so he miscalculated the distance between Spy’s face and his fist. Spy stepped nimbly out of the way, which caused Demoman to lose his balance and crash to the ground. He lay there in a daze, his ego bruised and battered. “Well, I bid you adieu. Do not feel too bad, it is nothing a drink can’t help you forget!†Spy could never just walk out the door. He dematerialized in a cloud of smoke, leaving Demoman alone and sprawled out across the cold tiled floor, marinating in his own misery. * That night Demoman didn’t join the team for dinner. Scout was the first to delicately point out his absence. “Yo, anyone seen bridezilla? I have some rice to throw at him.†Medic sniffed as he cut into his steak. “I expect he has passed out again somewhere. Perhaps he will die from organ failure. Check ze respawn room in ze morning.†Sniper chewed on his food thoughtfully. “Seein’ him dressed up like that reminded me of me first wife. Crikey. Don’t accept contract work in Vegas, that’s all I’m saying.†Engineer looked across the table at Spy, who had been awfully quiet. He knew the man well enough now to recognize that smug expression. “Spah, why do I think you have somethin’ to do with this? What did you say to him?†Spy pressed a hand to his chest pretending to be hurt. “Moi? I did nothing at all. Why ze accusations laborer?†“Cause I’ve seen rattlesnakes that looked more innocent.†Engineer pushed his plate away. He stood up and looked down at the Frenchman. “A man has his limits. I don’t expect any of you fellas understand that. I ought to go find him before he gets himself into a bigger mess.†As the team watched Engineer leave, Medic cast a furtive glance at Heavy. He called out after the Texan, “if you find him and he is injured, don’t botha finding me. I already have plans!†* It took some searching before Engineer finally found Demoman. He had managed to climb up onto the roof of the building, dress and all, and was now looking mournfully out across the compound that joined the RED and BLU bases. “Howdy there,†Said Engineer gently, as he climbed up to join Demoman. “Everything alright partner?†Demoman didn’t look at Engineer. He took a long swig from his scrumpy bottle and continued to stare out at the view. “Fook off.†“Now, now.†Engineer held his hands up defensively. “I ain’t here to pick on you. I’m only here to talk. Just lay out your troubles, I’ll listen.†Demoman was quiet. The distant sound of crickets filled in the long silence between them. Finally Demoman sighed and turned his head to look at Engineer. His lone eye glistened. “Ye ever been married?†“Sure have. In fact, it’ll be ten years this month.†Demoman was silent again and then asked, “wha’s it like?†Engineer ruminated over the question. “Well, it’s got its ups and downs. Mind you I’m away most’a the time. She don’t take too kindly to that. But at the end of the day, I wouldn’t want anything else.†Demoman took another swig and then offered the bottle to Engineer, who hesitantly accepted and took a small sip of his own. “So that’s what’s on your mind?†“Spy was right. Ah’m a freak o’ nature. Who’d want me?†“Hey now!†Engineer suddenly realized how emotionally fragile the Scotsman was. Engineer wasn’t exactly an expert of dealing with these situations and he was starting to regret his decision to come up here. “I can bet you a thousand sapped sentries that ain’t true. Don’t listen to that good-for-nothing Spah. You know he likes to rile people up.†Demoman gave a few wet sniffs before he pulled up his dress and blew his nose loudly on the hem of it. “Everyone else is settlin’ down. Havin’ bairns. Bein’ happy. The people ah get close to usually end up blown tae bits.†“Being married don’t always mean you’re happy. I mean, look at the Doc.†Engineer frowned as he thought about it. “In fact, didn’t I hear it was you having it off with his wife? “Ahh, now yer jus’ tryin’ tae cheer me up.†Demoman took a longer, deeper swig of his scrumpy. The alcohol was taking a hold of his mind. “I’m sure on our next service leave you’ll find a sweetheart. Spah’s just a lonely man who has to take it out on the rest of us.†Demoman breathed in. Some of his former vigor was returning to him. “Ye right! I should’nae even given him two cents. He’s ah piece’a cocklicking frog shite.†Engineer breathed a sigh of relief, happy that the crisis had been adverted. When he finally allowed himself to relax, he was unexpectedly caught in a tight embrace with Demoman. “Yer a blessin’, Engie.†Slurred Demoman as he squeezed the Texan tighter. “Hey,†Said Engineer nervously. “I do what I can.†When he smelled the potency of Demoman’s breath, he knew he had greatly miscalculated how drunk the man was. He patted a hand on Demo’s back and tried to pull away. He was only drawn in tighter. “Ah should give ye somethin’ for bein’ so kind.†“No. You shouldn’t. That really ain’t necessary!†Engineer’s pleas fell on deaf ears. Before he knew it, Demoman was peppering his face with sloppy kisses. “Ah fookin’ luv ya.†He muttered drunkenly. It was only until Demoman began to fiddle with the belt of his pants that Engineer really began to panic. “Whoa! Slow down cowboy! This ain’t right.†Demoman was now pressing his weight down on Engineer, hands and lips were everywhere. Engineer wondered how far he could let this go until he had to get violent. Fortunately, the problem was solved when Demoman man slumped against him, motionless. Engineer looked at his assailant in bewilderment. He gave the man a sharp poke in the side to see if he could get a reaction. Nothing. “Well if this ain’t a situation.†He pulled himself out from under the unconscious man, recovering from his slight shock. Demoman was sprawled out on the roof tiles in his white dress, snoring like a bullhorn. Engineer considered leaving him there. Molestation wasn’t something he appreciated. If he could spend two days passed out in a barn he could handle night on the roof. Eventually his soft heart won out. He bundled the lifeless Scotsman in his arms, bridle style and groaned with the effort. Demoman weighed more than any self-respecting bride should. He managed to get downstairs, and had the misfortune of bumping into Scout on his journey to Demoman’s bedroom. “If it isn’t the happy couple. You off to consummate the marriage?†Somehow, Demoman didn’t feel so heavy when you were throwing him at loudmouth Scouts.
I'm surprised Scout actually knows about the word 'consumate'.
>>88 Scout knows about many things that he has yet to experience.
I approve of this chapter. And GAAAH, how are we going to last three weeks without updates?!
>>89 While I loved this chapter, I think I lol'd hardest at this comment here.
Last line had me in stitches. I love your writing style, truly I do. And I love that it's more than 'haha men dressing up like ladies haha', and they actually have thoughts and feelings regarding this stuff. Depth. You're doing it right.
As the team watched Engineer leave, Medic cast a furtive glance at Heavy. He called out after the Texan, “if you find him and he is injured, don’t botha finding me. I already have plans!†As much as I love this chapter, this line confused me half to death. Is this Medic saying this? It doesn't sound much like him, especially after the way you've nailed his dialogue repeatedly before. Was it supposed to be someone else, but you changed it at the last minute and forgot to alter the diction to reflect the character? Just wondering so that I can put my mind at ease! But, really. Loved this installment. As Iz said, it's obvious the amount of thought you put into each character's outfits, so it's got me coming back for more than just laughs! I actually wanted to do a fanfic with Demoman coming to Engineer with his emotional problems, but you beat me to it, plus you did while Demo was drunk off his ass and in a dress, so I don't think I can compete with that. You win TODAY, ma'am (or sir... idek).
>>93 I read that line and the first thing I thought was that his 'plans' would somehow involve wearing the nurse's costume for Heavy. And now my crazed imagination is not so much running with it as sprinting like a fucking cheetah. Captcha: zexyuh - proving once again that TF2Chan is reading my filthy mind.
Checking in with all of you. Although it may take a bit more time for me to deliver dear Demoman due to some health problems, I certainly plan to work on him. I already have some wonderful ideas. >>93 I would say it is safe to say that is Medic saying that. Speaking of which, that line made me very happy. Hmmm... moar to draw, I suppose? sadisticgrin.jpg
>>93 Yes, that was Medic. I suppose what I was trying to suggest was something going on behind the scenes with Medic and Heavy. I was tired when I wrote this, so I think some parts are a little off the mark. Nooooo! Off to commit seppuku now, BRB.
Yes....just...oh God yes... When I first saw this fic on the chan, I did not know what to expect.... Now that i do know what you expect, you always have me waiting for more. Damn you!
>>96 DON'T DO IT! We need the rest of this story! Seriously, though, you are amazing. Every time a new chapter is out, I throw a little mini-fit of joy.
Demoman. http://tf2chan.net/workshop/src/130665539721.jpg Two things: 1) I'm sorry the quality is kinda poor and it's a bit smaller.. his dress was so wide I couldn't fit it all in without it being a little less tall. 2) First time ever drawing Demoman. Excuse the newbness. In the mean time, while we wait for darling Banimal to continue, if there are any requests related to this fic, I'd be more than willing to take them.
Maid!Spy helping Sniper clean those 'rods' in the back of his van? :D
MOARR
>>101 I cried. :c
Please, please update. You have combined one of my favorite video games with one of my favorite fetishes. I love you forever.
Bump! Haha, just kidding. This is sort of part one of a two part chapter. * Sniper cocked his rifle and lined up his shot. Sheets of rain blew across the compound, turning the figures in his crosshair into blurry blobs. Today was not a good day to be a Sniper. He growled and dared to take a step closer towards the skirmish. The wind had taken a turn was now soaking him with the full force of the downpour. The calls of his teammates were drowned in the maelstrom and the whistling in his ears had turned deafening. He didn’t know if it was the wind or an approaching rocket. A bullet whizzed over Sniper’s head. Well, at least the opposing sniper was having trouble too. There was nothing for it. He tried his luck and sent a few random shots out into the torrent. He didn’t like wasting ammunition, but with ten minutes left on the clock and no chance of overtime, he was running out of options. He knew the situation was desperate when he actually considered just pulling out his kukri and jumping into the fray. He could probably squeeze in a few last minute kills if he was lucky. A muffled cough behind him interrupted Sniper’s thoughts. With a grumble, he slung his rifle over his back stepped back from the ledge. “What do you want, Spook?†“Moi?†The RED Spy leaned against the back wall, doing his best to look dignified as he shielded his cigarette from the wind. “Why, I am simply here to give an old friend moral support.†“Sure y’are. More like take the piss. I’ve been round long enough to know how you tick.†Spy pressed a hand to his chest. “I did not think I was so transparent. You ‘urt me Sniper.†“Come off it. You know I’m done for.†Sniper sighed. He gave one last lingering look at the battle. It was hopeless and he knew it. With a heavy heart he joined Spy’s side. He took off his sopping hat and gratefully accepted a cigarette. “Guess it was goin’ to happen sooner or later. I wonder what Solly’s got in store for me? Crikey, did you see what he put Heavy in? Poor bloke. That just ain’t professional.†“I admit, I was curious also.†Said Spy. “Of course, I simply did not ‘ave ze patience to wait, so I took ze liberty of consulting Soldier. You are in for quite ze night!†“Get out! Bloody hell Spook, can’t trust you as far as we can throw ya.†He folded his arms and feigned outrage. The rain was really picking up now, and the battlefield had descended into muddy chaos. A sudden explosion rattled the ground before a distant shriek of Scout reached their ears. He couldn’t contain his curiosity any longer. “So… what’s in store for me then?†“Oh ho Bushman! And here I though you were an honorable man. Well, I do not want to spoil ze surprise. Where would ze fun be in that?†“Y’know, you’re just a bloody great tease, aincha?†Sniper took a deep drag on his cigarette before the wind could blow it out. “Oh oui, I know.†Spy smirked. * When Sniper first laid eyes on his frock, he was gobsmacked. The fine fabric spread out across his bed like a gossamer yellow ghost from the past. It dredged up uncomfortable memories. Memories that he’d thought he had left far behind him. He only knew one thing. Soldier couldn’t have chosen this dress by coincidence. Someone must have tipped him off, and Sniper had a fair idea who the culprit was. He balled his hands into fists, only barely managing to keep his temper in check. “Bloody wanker,†he seethed. “When I see that tosser I’ll set a boot up his clacker!†Sniper’s outrage was short-lived. He looked at the dress again and slumped his shoulders in defeat. For now, there wasn’t much he could do. Despite some animosity, the rest of the team had dutifully worn their dresses. Sniper didn’t want to be the first to be a poor sport about it. Even if he did refuse, he knew that Solider was just beyond his bedroom door, armed to the teeth and ready to forcibly dress any troop thinking about deserting their duties. The elegant outfit slipped over his square frame with surprising ease. Goosebumps tingled across his skin as the satin slid down his legs. Sniper reached around the back of the dress to pull the zip and was taken by surprise when a hard lump formed in his throat. He thought this part of his life was dead and buried. He was a mercenary now. Cold, ruthless, professional. He squeezed his eyes closed, trying to shut out the painful memories that were threatening to bubble to the surface. Sniper tried to get grip with a few deep breaths and repeatedly reminded himself; it was only a dress. Despite being a vivid canary yellow, the colour didn’t detract from the grace of the dress. The wispy strips of material attached connecting the wrists and waist emphasised every movement of the arm. The plummeting v-neck was speckled with sequins, shimmering as they caught the light. They followed the cut of the dress, until the bottom flared out at ankle length. The hem was lined with small fluffy yellow feathers. Satin, elbow length gloves completed the look. The strappy gold high heels fit as snugly as the dress. It was the kind of shoe that would break your ankle if you took even the slightest misstep. The rugged Australian was all too familiar with that occupational hazard. Far too many of his dancing partners had fallen victim to the peril of those impractical shoes. Once again his memory turned to his younger days. “Bugger,†he whispered, gripping his skirt in panic. He couldn’t get emotional. Not wearing this. His team would never let him forget it. The clack of Soldier’s boots at his door made it clear to Sniper that his time for lamenting was over. Now all he could do was step outside and face the music. Sniper took in a deep breath before switching to his game face. He was cool, calm, professional. He wouldn’t let a pretty ballroom dress undo him. If he had to wear a dress, he was going to take it the only way he knew how. Like a man. * Sniper’s debut as the lady of the base was, strangely, not as agonizing as he had feared. As more team members were subjected to this hazing, their sympathy increased. The only real antagonists that remained were Soldier and Scout. Nevertheless he took their mockery admirably. He was more interested in having a few words with Spy. The wily Frenchman however, was mysteriously absent. The day wore on until dinnertime rolled around. Scout elbowed Pyro in the side. “Hey, can you ask Cinderella over there to pass the salt?†“For the last bloody time, this is a ballroom dress!†Sniper thumped his fists on the table, making the cutlery rattle. “I ain’t some empty-headed princess.†“Could’ve fooled me. Are you going to get the salt or do I have to wait another century, toots?†“Someone else can get it. I’ll get sauce on my sleeves.†Sniper stroked his gloves fondly. Engineer tilted his helmet to give Sniper a proper look. “Ah say Sniper, if you weren’t an old fellah, I’d almost say you were a vision and a half.†Sniper wasn’t sure how to take that compliment. “Cheers?†Soldier had just refuelled with a hefty plate of barbecue ribs and now had renewed vigor to belittle his cadet. “Are you enjoying yourself, Private! Do you think this is some kind of sleepover where we drink tea and plait our hair? You are a disgrace and a delinquent!†He wildly brandished his steak knife. “I don’t see your head hanging. Hang it! I want to see the shame in your eyes.†Sniper hung his head because it was just easier that way. He looked down at the chest hair sprouting over the neckline. A self-respecting dancer would have taken care of that. He really would have to even out his tan too. “This is dancing dress?†Heavy piped up with interest. “Does leetle Sniper know how to do this, what do you call it, ballroom?†“No.†Sniper said quickly. “Never done it in my life.†“It is just, you were so good at the ballet. Maybe...†“I’ve never done it, alright!†Sniper rose from his seat. “And you can quit pestering me about it. I’m done here.†Sniper left abruptly, leaving the rest of the team too look at each other in bemusement. Soldier addressed the remaining team with self-satisfaction. “Take note men! That there is textbook shame. We’ll make a man out of him yet!†* When the day was done and dusted, Sniper was just thankful to return to his campervan and be away from those hooligans. It hadn’t taken him very long to adjust his centre of gravity and master the art of walking in heels, but even so, they were murder on his feet. He flopped onto his foldout mattress with a groan. What a day. He stared at the grimy roof of the van and finally allowed himself a moment of weakness. Old memories of Sniper’s days on the dance floor flooded his thoughts. As hard as he had tried to move on, his former life as a competitive ballroom dancer haunted him. His passion for dancing hadn’t ended with ballet. His aptitude for the art of movement only intensified as he entered his teen years. It quickly became an addiction. He trained daily and thrived in the cutthroat environment that was competitive ballroom dancing. He wanted to be the best, and the international championship was the shining target that would prove his worth. No. That was over now. He had moved on. This little incident was simply a bump on his new path as a hired assassin. With another sigh he swung his legs over the side of his bed. He reached down to remove his gold stilettos. His hand hovered over the strap. He simply couldn’t bring himself to take them off. As comical as they looked on his large feet, he unable to resist leaning back and admiring their shape. He stood up and approached the mirror above his kitchenette. Sniper grimaced and ran a hand down his unshaven cheek. Perhaps he should spend just a little more time on his appearance. Maybe then he wouldn’t look like such a broken old man who got himself into situations like this. He stepped back to get a better look at himself. Okay. Maybe it wasn’t terrible. He let his hands drift down the sides of the dress, feeling the rough texture of the sequins brush his fingers. He turned his body to the side and appraised his figure. At least he hadn’t let himself get out of shape. The cut of the dress wasn’t exactly harmonising with his boxy torso, but it could be a whole lot worse. Away from judgement, Sniper finally surrendered to his desires. He twirled on one foot and shimmied his hips as he practised a few basic ballroom steps. He caught sight of himself in the mirror and was quickly overcome with embarrassment. Bugger this, thought Sniper. Wearing this damn thing must be warping his mind. He stepped back from the mirror and away from that bizarre reflection. He began to pull at the zip on the side of his dress, eager to get out of it. “Do not stop now Bushman, I am enjoying ze show.†Sniper whirled around to discover Spy perched on the end of his bed, nonchalantly smoking a cigarette. Enraged, Sniper’s hand unconsciously darted to his side, searching for his absent kukri. “You! How the hell did you get in? Piss off!†Spy clearly wasn’t in a hurry to leave. “’ow rude. Do you treat all your guests so poorly?†“You ain’t my guest. You ain’t even on the waiting list. Out!†Spy flicked from ash from his cigarette and leaned back on the bed. He looked around the small van at his leisure. “This is where you retreat to at night? You really must update your décor. It is just… depressing†Sniper took two steps towards the interloper. He was ready to forcibly remove the Spy if necessary. “But I am surprised, Sniper. Wearing this dress seems to have rattled you. You are supposed to be a man of composure.†Sniper gripped Spy by the lapels. “And I wouldn’t suppose you had something to do with it? Huh?! You been doin’ your homework? Snoopin’ through my history?†Spy pulled Sniper’s hand from his suit and brushed the crumpled fabric in distaste. “Please. I would ‘ardly be a good spy if I didn’t have a dependable reserve of blackmail material.†“Even from your teammates?†“Especially your teammates. Ze biggest mistake you can make is thinking that you can trust someone.†With a triumphant gleam in his eyes, Spy reached into his coat and revealed a manila envelope. The name ‘Sniper’ was written on the cover in black marker. Never had a flimsy sheet of cardboard looked so ominous. “What’s this?†Sniper pulled away warily. “What’ve you got in that?†“Oh, just a few little inconsequential things. I don’t know if it would interest you.†“Spook!†Sniper balled his hands into fists. His patience was stretched tissue thin. Spy cracked the folder open and began to flick through its contents. “Well, since you seem to be so curious, I did find something that aroused my interest.†He pulled out a yellowed newspaper clipping and handed it to Sniper. Their hands brushed as the brittle paper slid into Sniper’s hand. Sniper looked down at the newspaper in disbelief. It was a short article, published by the Adelaide Times and dated 1954. However, it was the image that really set his emotions awhirl. It was a grainy black and white photograph of a handsome young man with oiled back hair, dressed to the nines in a pair of pressed pants and a glittering vest. Beside him was a ravishing woman with curly dark locks. Remarkably, her dress was an exact replica of the outfit that Sniper was now wearing, right down to the sequin. Their smiles were pained as they faced the camera. The headline burned into Sniper’s eyes. National Ballroom Champions Disqualified Sniper slowly sat down on the bed beside Spy, his shoulders hunched and defeated. He gripped the paper in his hands, unable to tear his eyes away. There was a long pause before he could muster the will to talk. That headline kept squeezing his heart. Disqualified “Me and Fran. We worked so hard. Blimey, that was a long time ago…†He crumpled the paper in his fist and looked forward with an icy intensity. “It was the Pan-Pacific Grand Prix. The biggest competition in Australia. We trained like dogs to get there. Fran, she… she begged to stick with the routine. But no. I was a stubborn bloody idiot. Got cocky, tried to be a maverick. Thought I could win it with my own steps.†Sniper took a deep breath. His voice grew thick with emotion. “I made a fool of myself. Both of us. We were disqualified and banned from future competitions. I never danced again.†Not expecting such a heartbreaking revelation, Spy could only try to comfort Sniper by pulling an arm around his shoulder. “That was an international championship, I believe. I hear you were quite ze accomplished dancer. Pity.†The venom in Sniper’s voice shocked Spy. “You happy now Spook? Huh? Proven what you needed to? That I’m a failure and a fraud? Congratulations.†Sniper shrugged off Spy’s arm and rose to his feet. He kicked off his gold heels, shuffled over to the medicine cabinet and produced a half-empty bottle of whisky along with a grimy shot glass. “Well, you’ve done your damage. Piss off. I can’t even look at ya.†Spy didn’t move. He pulled out his cigarette case as Sniper knocked back two glasses of amber liquid in quick succession. Watching a man on the edge of emotional stability was always an interesting experience. Sniper shook his head after the last acrid shot. He looked back up at Spy. “You still here? Got any more surprises in your rotten bag of tricks?†Spy took a drag on a fresh cigarette and returned Sniper’s heated gaze. “Non. You may find this ‘ard to believe, but I was never here to ‘umiliate you.†“Is that right?†Sniper chuckled in disbelief before pouring himself another shot. “Of all the lines I’ve heard from you, that one is grade-A rubbish.†Spy adjusted his tie and arose to approach Sniper. Naturally, Sniper watched his every movement in suspicion. Spy dared to run a finger down the front of Sniper’s dress, feeling the texture of the sequins through his leather gloves. “It would be such a shame if this dress did not serve its purpose tonight.†Sniper didn’t like their proximity and stepped away. “What does that mean?†Spy smiled, making sure his cigarette didn’t fall from his lips. “I happen to be an experienced dancer myself. Your specialty was the Paso Doble, was it not?†Sniper’s eyebrows skyrocketed into his hairline. “You?†He spluttered. “Oui. This is not so strange, is it? I am a man of many skills. It just so happens that dancing is a requirement of my profession.†He held out his hand for Sniper. “I simply needed to confirm that is was indeed you in that photograph. So, will you join me tonight? It has been so long since I ‘ave had the opportunity.†Sniper looked at Spy’s outstretched hand. He kept his face as unreadable as cold stone. Seconds passed without a move until Spy had to pull his hand back. He didn’t want the moment to get any more awkward. “Well,†said Spy as he flicked away the remains of his cigarette. “It does not ‘appen often, but I know when I am rejected. I should not be surprised. I overstepped ze boundaries tonight.†He smoothed his coat down and moved towards the door. “I won’t push ze issue any further. I bid you adieu.†Spy pulled the rickety handle and fresh night air billowed into the van. He slyly looked over his shoulder. “’owever, If you should reconsider, you know where to find me. I can guarantee you, I am ‘ard to beat.†The door snapped shut and Spy was gone. Sniper, blinked at the empty space where Spy had stood. He looked up and caught himself in the mirror’s reflection once more. “Bloody hell,†he muttered, and poured another shot.
Oh, go dance with him Sniper! Aww. I gotta admit, I love how each dress affects the mercs differently. Especially how there are emotional ties for Sniper's. It's heart-wrenching, really. Poor bugger. And I also love how...not gay it is. I mean, I'm fine with gayness- hell I love it, but, in this fic, I'm sort of glad with just how straight everyone seems to play it. There doesn't seem to be any 'Oh, he's in a dress! Everyone fuck him now!', and I like how real it feels like that. Kudos. Can't wait for more.
Buck up and dance with that Spy, you know you want to. (I love you Banimal.)
Hooray, an update! I can't read about Sniper in drag without giggling and thinking of "Priscilla, Queen of the Desert".
So worth the month-long wait.
I never thought of Sniper as a dancer before. Great chapter!
>>108 Couldn't agree more. Eagerly awaiting the next part!
oh god, I needed this.
"Priscilla, Queen of the Desert" was immediately what I thought of, too, specifically Hugo Weaving in his wig and dress. Great story so far! I just love your characterisations, they're spot on. Can't wait for more.
Am I the only one who spotted that huge reference to Strictly Ballroom? Please tell me I'm not the only one to have seen that movie.
I am so in love with this. Manly men being manly in dresses is so hot. I mean, I get off on cross-dressing, period, but I love how they don't just stop being rugged, hairy killing machines simply because you put them in a metric tonne of lace. I very much want. Also, darn it, you're making me want to A) draw Ballerina!Heavy (and Nurse!Medic... actually, just a whole bunch of cross-dressed Medic...), and B) see that Paso Doble. My cross-dressing kink, my fandom, AND my overwhelming love of DANCE? You are hitting every single one of my buttons.
I love how spy is being a not-asshole and wanted to dance for sniper's sake. That's as many as two great things plus one great fetish. And that just made my heart melt.
oh um hi i have never posted to this site before here goes but this was amazing. joining the chorus of "i didn't think i would like this but i did". very much so so much that i drew. stuff. it's on my Hipstr, i-want-sprinkles uhhh i hope you enjoy it?? it's medic and heavy but yes excellent work keep it up!!
er that should be my t u m b l r. darn word filters i knew this would happen.
Oh, boy. I cannot believe this updated! I was certain it had died. Well, what a lovely surprise! Anyways~ I will certainly be continuing drawing all of the crossdressers. However... My style has changed so.. Well you'll see. I may end up re-doing some of them. Or perhaps making a long strip with all of them in it at once [as soon as all of the characters have had their turn!] But either way, great update!! Can't wait for more, I'm ecstatic!
I have the feeling Scout is going to be a naughty schoolgirl, and oh do I hope I'm right.
Yesssssss. Naughty school girl scout? I do think I like the sound of that, Japan. And what will engie be? Please say a saloon girl from some old silver screen western complete with corset and feathers. Banimal, you are amazing. Absolutely worth the wait, and whatever you put the rest of the team in, I am sure I will love it.
>>113 I'm relieved that someone noticed the reference. I was beginning to feel old. I sort of dedicated this chapter to my parents, who dragged me along to their endless ballroom classes and made me watch Strictly Ballroom until my eyes bled. Ah the memories! >>116 This pleases me greatly. You draw a damn fine queer superhero. Those lollipops in the pockets are a nice touch too.
OH GOD MORE PLEASE?!? when is the next update???? i love this...so much.... but i have to ask, will there be any sex?COME BACK IN 3 YEARS WHEN YOU'RE 18, KIRIA.
Hate to break it to you but since you're using anonymous and not giving the full URL, how will we ever find it? Hah hah! I overlooked this one before because the title didn't grab me. Then I thought, why not? I'm so glad I did. I love how fitting everything is and that yeah, they're still the same men as before, no matter what they're wearing. Banimal, you are truly amazing and one of the authors I worship. I wish I was half as good.
anon from 116. I am very susceptible to the power of suggestion so I dre w porn post/8518653956/the-sorry-state-of-my-art-supplies-i-have-to-draw Starts with I-want-sprinkles dot Hipstr dot com. Idk how much of that will get filtered sorry if it does. And url for the first drawing is /post/8498155070/draw-medic-as-a-candystriper-how-can-i-make-this Bluh bluh enjoy my sad attempt at male nudity
Holy crap I lost it when I realized you where using Strictly Ballroom as the basis for Sniper's backstory. I love you so hard
MOAR!
... Just to be the anon who bumped 1000 times to get you to WRITE SOME MOAR.
127 Da-dadada! Da-dadada! Da-dadada-dadada-dadada-dadadada-da!
“Bloody wanker,†he seethed. “When I see that tosser I’ll set a boot up his clacker!†When I read that, I imagined spys ass as a newton ball office toy. What's wrong with me.
moar
Yesss, an update Psyche! Cry deeply
>>131 YOU BASTARD!
>>131 I hope you die in a fire.
You idiots DO realize it was >>130 that bumped the thread and not >>131 right? Honestly.
"I hope you die in a fire" for bumping a thread? Is the Chan always this friendly?
135 With stories people really like, yep.
Isn't that kind of counterproductive, though? I mean, feedback makes authors happy and encourages them to write more. If an author has an old unfinished fic that they have forgotten about, getting feedback for it reminds them of its existence and might encourage them to continue it. I myself once wrote a new chapter for a year-old fanfiction because somebody left me a comment telling me that they hoped I would continue the story. The way Chan works, giving feedback automatically bumps the thread, it can't be avoided. If people are afraid of bumping threads because it can get them flamed, they won't leave any feedback on old fics, making old fics much more likely to be forgotten and never continued.
>>137 The way Chan works, giving feedback automatically bumps the thread, it can't be avoided. Lol, seriously? Hey, newbie. There's this thing called "sage". You add the word to the email box, so you can give your support without bumping. Bumping for the sake of bumping (notice how that person didn't give any feedback? If they'd given a paragraph or two about how much they love this fic and why, people might not care as much) is seen as a douche move, especially for people who are awaiting updates like a patient, normal adult. TL;DR: lurk moar
I didn't know that. Thanks for explaining, there are a couple of fics I wanted to praise and didn't know how to do it without pissing people off.
I think that praising a fic that hasn't been updated in a long time, as long as you give significant details, doesn't necessarily need to be saged. As you mentioned, putting it on the front page again is a better guarantee that the author will see the comment. I believe it is, as you said, mostly frustrating when someone does a needless bump and doesn't sage. Those people can die in a fire. It takes a few seconds to sage and, if they really want to be helpful, only a few minutes to tell the author why they liked it or even constructive criticism as its warranted.
maybe MAYBE author will look at this again? It would be awesome. Please author, this story is really damn amazing.
Hey everyone. I just wanted to thanks thanks for the encouragement. I'm glad everyone is enjoying this, and that they're bothering to bump it. I've by no means abandoned this story, it's just that my degree has taken over my life. Seriously, it's relentless. Whatever spare time I have these days is dedicated to staring at the wall and dribbling. I'll see if I can squeeze something out this week, but don't hold your breath.
>>143 ..Again? Really? Cut it the fuck out.
Yey! An update! Excitement! No... no it's not. Y'all keep tricking me. Stop it sage
Moar
Dammit, stop giving me false hope.
I have a feeling scout is gonna be a playboy bunny, or a naughty school girl. haha
>>148 That is now what I am imagining. Also this fic is really, really great and I can't wait for more of it. I especially liked Sniper's part, and I hope we'll get to see him dance with Spy.
... and I thought part two was up. Darn
So I heard you like moar? Thanks for the endless bumps. Nothing motivates me more than harassment. Enjoy! * Whilst the rain had eased, it had left the ground sodden. Sniper took care to lift the hem of his dress as he made his way to the main building. As soon as he reached the door, he shucked off his mud-encrusted boots and slipped back into his gold heels. He wiggled his toes, making sure they were on tight. They clopped against floorboards and echoed down the hall. He tried to tread as carefully as he could manage. He wasn’t interested in explaining himself to curious teammates. The metronome of the wall clock reminded him that it was close to 2 am. He knew that everyone would be in bed by now, and a good chance that Spy was no longer waiting for him. But this was how long it had taken him to muster the courage to seek him out. The whisky had just about worn off. And, as its numbing effects faded, his self-loathing resurfaced, twice as strong. “Pissâ€, he mumbled for the hundredth time. This was ridiculous and he knew it. Still, an inexplicable urge was pressing him to give in to his temptations. This bad weather was a one off and he’d been thrown off his game. But, ultimately, it had led to an unexpected opportunity. He didn’t know if he’d give himself another chance to dress like this. He reached the end of the hall and cracked open the door to the recreation room. A solitary lamp was on in the corner; its sparse light illuminated the battered furniture. Someone had pushed everything up against the walls, leaving an open space in the centre. He stepped into the clearing, looking for any sign of life. His clacking shoes against the floorboards were the only sounds to break the oppressive silence that permeated that little room. “Spook?†He tentatively asked. There was no answer. Sniper sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He didn’t know if he should be relieved or disappointed. Somehow, Spy’s absence only made him feel more the fool. He slumped on a nearby couch. He didn’t really want to go back to his van so soon. He idly stroked his dress. As he touched the soft fabric, vivid memories of his dancing days appeared clear in his mind. He smiled as he remembered some of the better times. He and Fran would dance through hot afternoons, and continue long after the sun set. Time stood still when they moved together. As much as he liked shooting people, it just wasn’t the same kind of magic. “Bloody Spy.†He said to himself. “He missed out on some good moves.†“Well, I was beginning to think that you had stood me up, Bushman. I am intrigued. What are these moves you speak of?†Spy still had the ability to completely take him by surprise. He jolted around to see Spy casually perched on the team’s moth-eaten snooker table. He’d removed his jacket, and he looked far more at ease in his waistcoat and rolled up sleeves. Sniper pinched the bridge of his nose. “When you want something, you don’t give up on it, do you?†Spy laughed and slid off the table. “Anyone who has met me would know that. But I admit, if you had come any later I would have resigned it as lost cause.†He offered his hand to Sniper, who only briefly hesitated before he accepted it, and was pulled to his feet. Spy looked him up and down with a sly smile. “You are ravishing, Bushman.†“Come off it. Besides, this ain’t any sillier than your bloody maid getup.†“Oh? You didn’t seem to think it was so silly that day.†“Yeah, well. Somethin’ must’ve been in the water. I swear I saw Truckie picking flowers after he spoke to you.†“Is that so? Then I must make sure to thank him later.†Sniper didn’t know what to make of that, so he ignored it and decided to just avoid preamble. “So, you’ve done some dancing then? Go on. Show us what you’ve got.†“Please. I am not a show pony anymore than you are. I need a skilled partner to demonstrate ze best of my abilities.†He made a wide, sweeping gesture and opened his arms. He waggled his brows at Sniper. “You know I only dance lead.†“I think it is fair to make an exception in this circumstance.†He flicked his eyes at Sniper’s flowing dress to punctuate his point. Sniper was still reluctant to subvert tradition. The female dancer certainly had the harder job, but it was also undeniable that she was the glittering centre of attention on the dance floor. Besides, he knew it would be sacrilege to dance lead wearing this thing. “Hmph. You’re lucky I’m a pro. Ain’t too many blokes who could pull it off.†“I am only too glad to hear it Shall we begin?†Sniper thought it was a bit awkward just to throw himself at Spy and without a proper send in. “It’s hard enough being a sheila, but it’s even harder when there’s no mood. Do you have any tunes?†“Please. I am ze Spy! It is my job to think of everything.†Spy excused himself, and loped away to a dark corner of the room. Sniper stood awkwardly in the centre of the room, wondering what the man was up to, and secretly praying that he could follow Spy’s lead and not make a complete cock of himself. Eventually, after a bit of shuffling, Spy emerged with a hefty gramophone in his arms. He placed it on a table with a thump. “I ‘borrowed’ this from ze Doctor’s office. I did not ask permission, but I am sure he will never know it was gone.†He pulled out a record sleeve and waved it at Sniper. “Finding a good recording of this was ze ‘ard part. You can thank me later.†He carefully slipped the shiny black record from its cover and placed it on the gramophone. The needle began to run along the grooves, and a crackle later a very familiar tune filled the room. As the first guitar chords of España Cañà reached his ears, a wave of sentimentality washed over Sniper. He could almost smell the hairspray in the air. “Crikey, that takes me back.†“I hope this is adequate to get you ‘in the mood’. Paso Doble was not my specialty. But I believe I can keep up.†Sniper looked back at Spy with a fresh grin. “You better, mate. I have standards.†The two men looked each other down with purpose. The music took hold of Sniper’s limbs, and he carefully stepped backwards, raising his hands in the air. It was the cursory position before the start of the dance. Despite Spy’s uncertainties, he seemed to know exactly what to do. He took a step backwards with a controlled sway of the hips. He straightened his posture like a strutting peacock. “Show me what you’ve got, filthy jar man.†“Try not to step on my toes, frog.†Even his wildest dreams, Sniper hadn’t expected the intensity between them when they clashed together. His body embraced the music like an old friend. He was even keeping his balance in those precarious shoes. Sniper had danced follow before, but only as a means to understand his partner’s steps. Now, as he let Spy lead him through the dance, he truly understood the thrill of it. “Not bad, for a codger.†He teased as he twirled around his partner. His dress fluttered after his body, accentuating his movement. “I must admit,†breathed Spy as he concentrated on his timing. “You are impressive.†Spy took him by the hand and pressed their chests together. The intimacy didn’t bother Sniper as much as he feared. He was too caught up in the dance to care. Spy moved Sniper’s hand to rest on his waist, guiding his movements. Only experience kept their legs from tangling together. They were so close that Sniper could smell the heady aroma of Spy’s aftershave. Sniper ducked and weaved around Spy. They moved in harmony, sensing each other’s steps before they had even moved. They were nearing the end of the routine now. The chorus of trumpets heralded the climax of the dance. Their eyes were locked on each other, electricity crackled around them. The gramophone jumped, sending the music to a grinding halt. This was enough to break the spell. In his surprise, Sniper misplaced his foot, sending the both of them tumbling to the floor. It was a chaotic tangle of satin, sequins and legs. Sniper was draped over Spy, struggling to catch his breath. As they both recovered from the shock, their eyes met. That was all it took. They pressed their mouths together and kissed with the urgency of love-starved teenagers. Sniper moved his legs up to fit more comfortably around Spy’s hips. Spy wasted no time either, running his hands under the fabric of Sniper’s skirt to gain more access. “I haven’t,†breathed Sniper between kisses, “felt like this for years.†“Nor I –OH- keep doing that, merci bocu.†Their touching was getting frantic. The sound of Spy’s unbuckling belt only spurred Sniper on. He ground their hips together, revelling in the hot breath against his neck. “Oh god,†Sniper hissed. Spy had turned them over, and had hooked Sniper’s legs around his waist. His wandering hands had found their way beneath Sniper’s dacks, and had now taken both their cocks in hand, stroking them together in just the right way. “You dance better than any woman,†Spy groaned, using his free hand to reach around and grope Sniper’s exposed thigh. “Cause I’m the bloody best!†Sniper reaffirmed his statement by bucking into Spy’s hand, and pulling him in for another bruising kiss. The passion couldn’t hold out. They came together, gasping and swearing and hanging on to each other for dear life. The gramophone continued to crackle, and was now the only sound in the room. They lay pressed against each other, dazed as the heat slowly subsided. Spy was the first the pull away, smoothing down his ruffled shirt and clearing his throat. “Well… this is awkward.†Sniper would have made a similarly uncomfortable statement, if something hadn’t caught his eye, stopping him in his tracks. “Err… do you wear frilly knickers every day, or is that just for me?†Spy looked down to discover that, with the trousers undone, his lacy black panties were exposed to the world. He quickly tucked himself in and zipped up his pants with a speed that would make Scout proud. Even through the wool of his balaclava, He looked so mortified that Sniper was left with no alternative but to laugh out loud. He gripped his sides, almost crying with hysterics. The tension was broken. “What,†Said Spy, trying to regain some of his dignity. “They are comfortable. I do not see ze shame in it.†“I shoulda known you were a bloody poof. Are you wearing a bra too?†Sniper laughed again. He pushed himself to a sitting position, pulling down his dress for modesty. He was dismayed to discover that the lining was splattered with sticky white droplets. “Piss, that’ll never come out.†Spy had moved to lean against the couch. He lit two cigarettes and handed one to Sniper, who accepted it gratefully. “I will pay for ze dry cleaning.†They smoked in silence, still both a little confused by this whole incident. “Y’know. You could improve your posture. It would make it easier to follow you.†Said Sniper, when he reached the end of his smoke. “Well, some of steps were slightly out of time. I suppose you were out of practice.†Rebutted Spy. “Guess we both need more practice.†They sat side by side, staring at the crackling gramophone while that statement hung in the air. “So… same time next week?†“Oui. That would be for the best.â€
STOP FARKING BUMPING TH-- ... Oh. Well. That was nice.
SEX! HOLY SHIT! IT HAS SEX! I have no words but those of adoring praise. Also, it should be 'merci beaucoup', not 'bocu'. It's pronounced like that, so it's an understandable mistake, but I just thought you should know. And I am eagerly awaiting more. Captcha: 313 iceBra. I don't know why, but given the story, it made me laugh.
I am in awe. This chapter was well worth the wait. "Even his wildest dreams", I think you missed a "in".
When I saw this at the top I was sad because I assume it was just bumped again. But then I was overwhelmed by joy. And now I am highly aroused. Banimal I love you, never stop!
My babies. You can have all of them. Seriously, I'm not even that big of a Spy/Sniper person yet I love this to death. The dancing was excellent and the sex was hot. Well worth the wait.
YES! Oh, yes, a thousand times yes, Paso Doble, I am so freaking INTO this! Ballroom dancing, frilly knickers, Sniper/Spy... You've made me a very happy woman today.
I love love love this chapter. Every bit of it.
Well worth the TEDIOUS wait! I giggled like a school girl and squirmed like a hormonal teenager. Very good! I hope you continue. captcha = at-Law. ventato
Aw man this is the best update EVER! At the part where they were dancing all I could hear in my head was "el tango de roxanne" from Moulon Rouge. Instant headcanon
I CAME. Frilly Spy panties are the best thing EVER! Teeny note: it's 'merci beaucoup'. Not sure if intentional or not. Captcha says: noteis wizards. YES, CAPTCHA, BANIMAL IS INDEED A WIZARD.
You know what I find ironic? Just read the TF2 blog. Apparently the guy who voices Sniper just came out with a book called 'Dancing with Eternity'.
Please telling me you'll be continuing this again. Pleeeease.
The moral of the story is never trust Google translate. Oh well! You get what you pay for. I have Engineer next on my hit list. But I work on Valve time, so I can't tell you when it will be done.
YES, an actual update! I love how you described the dance scene, but when the panties happened I laughed so hard my stomach still hurts.
I saw the update and a smile lit my face, excitement stole my heart and the night was so much brighter. Then it turned out to be a comment bump. Heartbreak and devastation.
>>166 Ditto.
I loved the dance scene so much I can't even say. Also panties for the win. I'm excited to see what you come up with for engie!
fabulous!! i jizzed when i saw an update, and it was amazing~ keep up the good work~
Out of curiosity, how come the version of Sniper's first chapter you posted in ff.net is missing the beginning? Since the threads on the Chan are automatically deleted after a while, I saved the link to your ff.net page rather than to this thread. But if the ff.net version is incomplete, the missing parts will be lost forever once this thread is deleted, it will be a pity. Did you just decide that the story worked better without Spy and Sniper's discussion?
>>170 That is more a case of me mindlessly copy and pasting into a new document without double checking. Thanks for pointing that out. I'll fix it up.
One thing that I'm finding very interesting is the whole "reasoning" thing with the outfits; that the Soldier is picking out the attire with very specific intention, whether its to remind the men of something in particular or to immasculate their culture or job or whathaveyou. And they've all made sense, BUT it leaves me wondering why Solly's outfit was... mainly that of a streetwalker. I REALLY hope that's brought to light later in the story somewhere, because the implications have me 'hohohon'ing with anticipation all over the place.
more please
This entire thing was amazing, but the part with Sniper and Spy...was just...I LOVED IT.
Are you kidding me
>>174 I cried. Goddamn.
I know guys. I know. Let's all go cry together.
may i join in? ;n;
>>164 Banimal, you're hardly the first artist to work on Valve time, but certainly earned the right to! Keep bringing the Valve quality results and we'll forgive any amount of Valve time it takes.
Hey Sora, I'm glad you're enjoying my stories. I swear to god, after this week is over I can commit some time to writing. It's just that my degree has given me an abnormal workload, and my creative gland is a little burned out. But I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. It's nearly over! Hoorah!
>>180. Please Sir/Madaam may I have some more?? *puts out bowl for more delicious fic*(*Bans you from text boards for necrobumping and using actions*)
>>181 Consider yourself reported, and have a nice day. ~*=^w^=*~ UGUUUUUUUUUUUUUU~~~~~~~~~(And you're banned for unnecessary obnoxiousness)
I concur - this is humorous as hell and I am loving it. Upload whenever you are ready to - work like this takes time.
Damn bumps... I'm glad at least that the thread was kept from dying though. Still waiting for the next installment, hopefully soon!
182 Banned for that? Something that several spam in the mantrain constantly? Mods need to lighten up.
>>185 It's a TEMPORARY ban. Most of these are all TEMPORARY. What part of that don't you guys understand? Seriously, it's like a smack on the wrist for being a dumbass. A comment like >>182 is just ASKING for someone to go "BAWW YOU GUYS ARE MEANIES!" and then everyone will pile in here and try to justify or demonize someone. And I will not condone that behavior. Anon should have just reported and left it at that. Don't start nothing, don't be nothing, maggots. If you continue to derail Banimal's thread, I will take action against you. You got complaints about mods? Take it to /inception/.
>>185 Post 182 was in violation of Global Rules 2a and 8a. Don't do stupid shit that makes you look underage and don't be a unnecessary douchebag. See a post you don't like? Report it, don't reply to it with unnecessary childish bullshit. Kilo is in the right for enforcing the rules, and the mods reserve the right to enforce the rules as they see fit. However, like Kilo mentioned in her post, if you have a problem with the mods, please address it in /inception/ and it'll be discussed. It would do everyone a whole lot of good to read the rules. Also, I have never seen any of those wapanese bullshit emotes when I'm on the Mantrain, but that's another story for another thread.
I can't wait to find out what Engie and Pyro end up having to deal with. (I sure hope I'm doing the whole saging thing right... )
While I am looking forward to what Engie and Pyro are going to get I'm DYING in anticipation to see what Scout's going to get. Seeing as he's the one who constantly bullies everyone else when they wear lady-clothes, it would be sweet justice if he got something REAALY bad.
I'm still holding out for Scout the Schoolgirl, myself. Ribbons everywhere. Also, to the author, this story just keeps making me laugh a little too loudly. My roommates might think I've gone mad. But, it's totally worth it.
188 Oh god. Pyro. That. -how? I'm very curious about engineer, though. Bonus if scout has some costume that makes references to him being a virgin. (saged? I think I did that right)
> 191 - Bonus if scout has some costume that makes references to him being a virgin Oh god seconded with the power of a thousand suns.
>>190 Yes, I agree! Scout either as a schoolgirl with knee socks and plaid ribbons, or possibly a confirmation gown (>>191) for that virginal touch. Why do I have a mental image of Pyro as Barbarella? Sparkly hotpants over PVC catsuit, and the hugest Easter-pastel bouffant wig...