no matter what your most embarrassing moment in life is, at least it’s not having fucking chat gpt write fanfic for you bc you’re too lazy to do it yourself
USA people! Buy NOTHING Feb 28 2025. Not anything. 24 hours. No spending. Buy the day before or after but nothing. NOTHING. February 28 2025. Not gas. Not milk. Not something on a gaming app. Not a penny spent. (Only option in a crisis is local small mom and pop. Nothing. Else.) Promise me. Commit. 1 day. 1 day to scare the shit out of them that they don't get to follow the bullshit executive orders. They don't get to be cowards. If they do, it costs. It costs.
Then, if you can join me for Phase 2. March 7 2025 thtough March 14 2025? No Amazon. None. 1 week. No orders. Not a single item. Not one ebook. Nothing. 1 week. Just 1.
If you live outside the USA boycott US products on February 28 2025 and stand in solidarity with us and also join us for the week of no Amazon.
'This won't work, this isn't widespread, nobody knows, we're in a bubble, blah blah blah' my mom, a 64 year old lady with no social media whose first language is spanish, told me about this before tumblr did, and said we are going to participate.
hey does anyone have a link to tf2 shimejis? i already have @emmetofthestars 's boots and bombs one (sorry for ping hehe! i love it sm HHHH 😭) but i'd love to have the other mercs too! i can't find any online :(((
I'm not nearly finished with this, but I thought feeding you all would be better than nothing because I haven't posted much at all. Have a Medic.
CW: Descriptions of blood.
Fritz knew he shouldn't have cared when he heard that scream ring out somewhere above. He should have kept walking. Should have kept following his Heavy, stayed in the relative safety of his 'pocket' (as many called it,) but... Unfortunately, curiosity kills the cat, they say. All the more reason to find out what that curiosity was, to see what killed that cat. And so, with a nudge to Heavy, who responded with a nod, he was off, Übersaw out and at the ready as he tiptoed up the nearest stairwell.
At the top, all that lingered was a spatter of old blood where the wall met the ground, a few stray droplets near the highest couple steps looking like dark beads of dried venom. Old battles would always leave their mark. But there was nothing immediately of interest to the Medic, so Fritz moved on to the connected hallway, hugging walls with his back turned toward the safety of the hard surface, weapon raised and eyes sharp.
It doesn't take long to find fresh blood painting the walls and the floor near one of the many open windows. His first thought was of Arthur, the BLU Sniper— the poor man had probably been face stabbed again. He wasn't the most observant of his surroundings when scoped in, always focused more on actually getting kills than his own life. Fritz sighs, lowering his saw.
But then, some things catch his eye. Things far out of place with his original idea that make him immediately backtrack on his last train of thought.
Firstly, the positioning of the blood spatters was wrong. A face stab wouldn't have warranted a splatter on the wall opposing the window, and if it did, it certainly wouldn't be this big. It'd be droplets at most, unless the attacking Spy got lucky and scored Arthur's throat. To go along with that, no Spy that Fritz knows would *drag* a body anywhere, too worried about their own suit or the thinning time remaining in the match to really hide a body, so there was no reason for there to be smears of blood leading away from the place of the attack. (He knew what the dragging footprints of an injured Spy looked like. This was not it.)
Secondly, something that would confirm his suspicions further, a yellow tipped sniper's bullet. One of BLU issue— he'd dug enough of RED's bullets and shrapnel out of his comrades to know that their ammo differed in color, to match with their uniforms. Arthur, for one, certainly wasn't one to waste rifle bullets in close combat. Or touching his wounds at all, which is probably what would've been required to get the bullet out.
No, that's not it. Fritz frowns. The bullet would've gone straight through, considering the fact that there's a spatter on the wall directly opposite the window, and that most of the rifles of the Snipers were powerful enough to punch a hole through steel at fifty meters. That'd be the only reason the bullet lay on the floor. Arthur would immediately find him if he lived through a shot from a RED Sniper and the thing didn't go through all the way.
So, with all this, Fritz makes a conclusion, and he finds he doesn't like the answer.
The RED Sniper was shot.
Verdammt, Mick, is his first thought. Wo zum Teufel bist du jetzt? is his second.
In regards of the Trump government scraping all trans inclusion in its queer information portion of its websites I have made this thing. Spread the word. Don't let them pretend we never existed.
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