Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
Acquired Stardust

JBB: An Artblog!

shark vs the universe
h
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
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#extradirty
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year

pixel skylines
will byers stan first human second
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
Keni
art blog(derogatory)

Product Placement
KIROKAZE
DEAR READER
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@lespionblu

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tfw porn suddenly appears on your dash
To the anon(s) who just wrote me
I’d rather not reply to your asks on here because I don’t care to start internet wars but PLEASE do let me know who you are! I agree with everything you said and having someone else to share this experience with and possibly be friends with would be great. <3
Since you said you sent the package, I want the tracking number please. Thank you.
Currently I'm in Italy, so I don't have the number at hand. I'll have my husband search for it and will give you asap.
We've not interacted, nor have we yet met, but I've seen your posts pop up by way of mutuals' threads, and I just wanted to pay compliment where it's due! You're quite the talented writer by what I've seen!
Why thank you kindly! I try my best and I’m glad you like my style :)

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Ends and beginnings
The worst problem probably was that rumors of a man working - and fighting - for the mysterious companies stationed on the other side of the mountain had been shot on the streets of the small town, although mysteriously enough nobody saw or knew who’d done the dirty deed. “Of course we’ll be investigating on those responsible and they’ll face the consequences.”
The morgue was such a small, dingy place, just like the rest of that handful of houses called a town. It was hardly an official morgue, considering just how little murders would happen, if ever; in fact, it was a minor funeral house that had been built by a resident family just outside of the borders, and they kindly cooperated with the police in that nasty business. “His belongings are back at the police station, and we’ll hand them over to you once the investigation is over,” the sheriff sniffed from under his thick mustache, holding the door of the morgue open for Pauling in which only one drawer was labelled as full. “So you were telling me his name his Jean-Paul LeRoy?”
“Much appreciated,” Pauling murmured with a genuine smile, the kind grieving people gave. She nodded on the note of his belongings, though quietly reminded herself that they needed to retrieve those themselves.
She slipped through the door of the morgue, feeling the chill in the room and immediately honing in on the single full drawer. “That’s right. He came here, after the war. Made a new life for himself; pretty young, actually.”
Pauling was an expert at lying through her teeth. “When will we be able to arrange to have him buried…? Of course, I’ll have to get in touch with his relatives in France. They may want him buried over there in the family plot.”
“Oh I’m sure it won’t be long,” The sheriff trailed after her without rush, fishing a small keyring with a handful of numbered keys and flipping through them till the right number was in his thick fingers. “It’s a matter of letting the coroner do his job, really. But he won’t be here before tomorrow, you know, he’s coming from the next town over and... huh. That’s weird,” he remarked as they key he inserted in the drawer’s lock didn’t turn as it was supposed to. Then he tried the handle, and found it opened with ease...and the lot was empty.
Incredulous and already muttering curses under his breath, he pulled out the slate where the body was supposed to be and found only a stain of dry blood caking the plastic shroud. Well, more like several stains, and most of them arranged in what looked like finger-written capital letters and a crude stylized smiling face:
S U C K E R S : - )
At closer inspection, the bit that was supposed to be the smiley’s nose was not just a dry maroon smear in the shape of a hyphen, but a very tiny piece of complex technology that anybody else outside of the Industries would have thought just as a microscopic piece of garbage, too small for relevance.
the danger is i’m dangerous and i might just tear you apart
Today at therapy was really hard. I was sitting here crying, and generally being miserable, when I felt a nudge at my knee. I looked down to see that Zeus, my service dog, was doing his job… and brought me a potato. it is very hard to cry with a gift of potato.
Remember this? I’m having a rough time right now. Zeus has a solution.
That would be an empty pill bottle, the *correct* pill bottle, a bottle of embossing powder, and two, TWO potatoes.
You’re worth at least 2 potato to him and that’s pretty special imo.
I would just like to remind you all that *I don’t own any potatoes* and I have no clue where he’s getting them from.
from his secret dog potato stash of course.
Ends and beginnings
“I’m really sorry you had to come here in the dead of the night, miss,” muttered the overweight sheriff with a single stain of coffee peeking from under the badge. The look on his face as he flipped through a battered folder’s papers was anything but sorry, if not about the trouble he had to go through in the otherwise pretty quiet town that night - that is, pretty quiet for being neighbours with a “secret” couple of corporate facilities at war with each other. With all the room around the mountains for them to die, this one faggot had to go and get his chest blown out in his town. “Did you know him? Personally, I mean.”
Pauling didn’t like going to the police. Not at all. They weren’t big fans of the mercenaries and posed one of the bigger security threats. Still, she was here.
Still, she was well-dressed, even for the late hour. Purple sun dress with a print of white daisies. “I did,” she replied, waiting for the sheriff’s directions. “We haven’t spoken in a few months, but were pretty close before that. I’m his only point of contact in the state, too…” she always had the right words to get bodies released.
No one could know he was here.
The worst problem probably was that rumors of a man working - and fighting - for the mysterious companies stationed on the other side of the mountain had been shot on the streets of the small town, although mysteriously enough nobody saw or knew who’d done the dirty deed. “Of course we’ll be investigating on those responsible and they’ll face the consequences.”
The morgue was such a small, dingy place, just like the rest of that handful of houses called a town. It was hardly an official morgue, considering just how little murders would happen, if ever; in fact, it was a minor funeral house that had been built by a resident family just outside of the borders, and they kindly cooperated with the police in that nasty business. “His belongings are back at the police station, and we’ll hand them over to you once the investigation is over,” the sheriff sniffed from under his thick mustache, holding the door of the morgue open for Pauling in which only one drawer was labelled as full. “So you were telling me his name his Jean-Paul LeRoy?”
Ends and beginnings
“I’m really sorry you had to come here in the dead of the night, miss,” muttered the overweight sheriff with a single stain of coffee peeking from under the badge. The look on his face as he flipped through a battered folder’s papers was anything but sorry, if not about the trouble he had to go through in the otherwise pretty quiet town that night - that is, pretty quiet for being neighbours with a “secret” couple of corporate facilities at war with each other. With all the room around the mountains for them to die, this one faggot had to go and get his chest blown out in his town. “Did you know him? Personally, I mean.”

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>tfw The Beard has already fandubbed the most recent comic and the music and voice acting is so perfect and adds so much to an already tense, dramatic comic
Mistakes
The sky was dark and clear like a crystal, stars winking in and out of sight above the small town. Pierrot waltzed out of a shop, paper bags comfortably nestled in the crooks of his arms. Now that he was free to roam about, he was also free to return Emmerich’s many little shows of love and prepare a little surprise for him; in the bags so far he had piled candles, a handful of ingredients, and of course a little surprise for his soldier in the form of red and black lingerie that he was sure to appreciate…
“So you’re the French fag?”
Pierrot paused, casting a thin glare over his shoulder at the group of – five, six – eight men already fanning out behind him. Eight men, some smoking their cigarettes with their hands deep in their pockets, some gritting their teeth with glares that would have made milk curdle. Such a welcoming committee, all for him? What a honor.
He quietly set the grocery bags down against the side of a building and noticed just how casually everyone was in a rush to get back inside their house, or dive into a shop or a secondary street. How typical. “Well,” he sighed, straightening his jacket, his knife flicking to life out of nowhere. “Are we going to fight or are we going to just stand around all day?”
Afficher davantage
((so I posted this the other day in the early morning but then comic happened and the dash exploded and then I had to catch a few planes. Reblogging it now that things are a little calmer and there’s somewhat more traffic... and don’t worry!
i live
Kill his bird? That’s fine. He’ll bring it back. But break his medigun? The single most important thing he has ever made? And call him a nurse? You Are fucked.
I don’t think he’s particularly mad about being called nurse. Rather, the hurt came from something much deeper. (incoming rant)
Think about it. When his team disbanded, Medic went to pursue his passion: medicine. He did so by joining TFC, in order to gain access to black market animal organs and funding for his experiments. He even experimented on the TFC guys just to satisfy his curiosity. He doesn’t care what team he’s on, as long as he can do experiments. Which is why we see him being ‘evil’ despite him not siding with anyone, when in reality he’s just aloof. For Medic, teams/comrades/ethics come second, medicine comes first.
But then we have this scene, TFC Heavy barging in and saw that Medic’s bringing Sniper back to life. He got mad and says things like these.
Medic brought Sniper back to life after he’s been dead for 6 hours. It’s certainly a breakthrough in modern medicine. Medic is good at it and he knows it, he calls himself God many times, for accomplishing things that are impossible.
But TFC Heavy doesn’t see that. He thinks Medic is useless, always causing trouble for him because Medic didn’t follow his orders. Furthermore, TFC Heavy always berate Medic, calling him with racist slurs and never acknowledge his achievements. He also doesn’t appreciate Medic healing him, when he swatted the Medigun off.
How long has Medic endured such treatment? 6 months? Despite being detached from human feelings, it even wears him down. I think it speaks volumes that Medic feels happy when he sees Sniper, his old teammate.
And even though his old teammates attitudes towards him aren’t special, they didn’t berate him like that. They didn’t try to control him, and heck they need him for uber and heals deep down they respect Medic for that.. (They even got better - take for example Soldier especially, he isn’t racist anymore especially after he went to Heavy’s.)
I think it’s a big deal when the most uncaring person in the team take insult from TFC Heavy’s nasty treatment. Him swatting away the medigun is probably what broke the camel’s back.
Lastly, look at Medic’s face in the last panel. Do you recognise it?
It’s the face of someone who’s gonna practice medicine.
AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
the entire TF2 fandom right now (via thepoopmanga)
IM. SCRFEAMING
Also can I add how much I love that Mundy’s mom is the sweetest looking lady on the planet and she cusses like a sailor like nothing’s the matter
she is me when I’m 70+

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I’M IN LOVE
I had to sit back for a second to process this, I really did. Because-…holy shit like we know none of the Mercs have much to loose but this guy right here- this guy- he literally has nothing left keeping him teathered to this plannet. NOTHING.
That’s the smile of a man who’s got eleven reasons to die and is willing to take a bullet for every single one of em.
It’s like Christian Brutal Sniper.
sign me the FUCK up 👌👀👌👀👌👀👌👀👌👀 good shit go౦ԁ sHit👌 thats ✔ some good👌👌shit right👌👌th 👌 ere👌👌👌 right✔there ✔✔if i do ƽaү so my self 💯 i say so 💯 thats what im talking about right there right there (chorus: ʳᶦᵍʰᵗ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ) mMMMMᎷМ💯 👌👌 👌НO0ОଠOOOOOОଠଠOoooᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒ👌 👌👌 👌 💯 👌 👀 👀 👀 👌👌Good shit