#lovelorn

[stacys-mom-has-got-it-goin-on]

Just because you chose this for her doesn't make it less real.

Help Desk Guy, "Obsession" (2026)

[vampzip]

i miss you so much, i see you in random people.

[hummingbird-teacake]

[tatbihlb]

the things I did, just so I could call you mine

the things you did, well I hope I was your favorite crime

[godzillatalks]

Team Fortress 2 has recently come back into my life. I thought I might write something for it.

Have a Sniper.

-

Maybe he was in love.

He couldn't tell, really. (Well, he could; he just didn't want to admit it.)

It was just something about the Medic. Something about Herbert Ludwig, about the dark haired man with the eyes of cold blue ice, with the terrifying and charming smile that always gleamed sharper than it naturally should and spelled out danger with every breath he took and grin he gave.

Something about the way his body moved; precise and elegant, threatening, in the way of a man who knew the power he held. Like a lynx, or some other animal, dancing about its prey like it already knew the fight was won, that it had the upper hand but simply chose to play along with the chase because it was fun.

If he thought about it, there was no true explanation for his feelings. Mick Mundy took one look at that man, the terrifying man of blood and needles and science, of life and death and resurrection, and decided he could be in love. Of course, he isn't, no, but he could be. (Oh, stop denying it.)

And still.

He saw others turned their heads more often than not toward the fairly tall and handsome German. Who could blame them? The man was a work of art. And they had no troubles expressing that to the Medic, which made him just smile and utter a quiet "Danke," in return. (Mick really wishes he had their confidence.)

He watched how Heavy— Mikhail, —looked at the Doctor. How infatuated he was with the pretty man, how much he cared. And he knew how much Herbert cared back. How Mikhail and Herbert absolutely loved each other. (How it hurt to watch.) But he didn't mind. Because Herbert was happy, and he'd leave it at that.

Actually, he didn't care. Because Mick Mundy wasn't in love. No. He was a Sniper, he didn't need it. He didn't need anyone to watch his back like Medics watched Heavies, or Pyros watched Engineers (even if it would've been nice to have someone.)

He couldn't care. He refuses to care. It's not his job to. He's here to shoot people and get paid. That's it.

But he does want to care.

He is a Sniper. He isn't an overly emotional Scout, or a drunken Demoman, or an insane and violent Soldier.

He is calm and collected. Focused. Professional. Feelings aren't professional. He was.

[andekha-ek-khwaab]

"SUCCESS COMES IN DIFFERENT WAYS"

I think success doesn’t always look like straight A’s, being top of your class, or having the perfect body and a car. Sometimes it’s something much quieter — like finding a friend who pulls you close on a crowded bus so you can sleep on their shoulder, or someone who instinctively walks on the outer side of the road to protect you, or laughs while brushing crumbs off your face. Sometimes the real win in life is simply having one person who makes you feel safe without ever needing to say it.

[thisismynamenowxpoetry]

[sourbunnyy]

For the want of love, I'll do my best to ignore you.

Because I know that you can't offer me the care I'm owed.

Pinterest gif source: @as0206