Everytime I see Yuri I think of an egg when I see his head also very yummy art 10/10
The amazing adventures of Yuri the egg
(I LOVE HOW HE CAME OUT CANT WAIT FOR COOKING IT)
Fly high little angel🕊️
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
wallacepolsom
occasionally subtle
Not today Justin

Janaina Medeiros
Misplaced Lens Cap

if i look back, i am lost
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
noise dept.

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sheepfilms

JBB: An Artblog!
art blog(derogatory)

Kiana Khansmith
Cosimo Galluzzi
Three Goblin Art

izzy's playlists!
Jules of Nature

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Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
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@ivanoskyy
Everytime I see Yuri I think of an egg when I see his head also very yummy art 10/10
The amazing adventures of Yuri the egg
(I LOVE HOW HE CAME OUT CANT WAIT FOR COOKING IT)
Fly high little angel🕊️
Long story short why pavel is bald
🤭🤭🤭
artyom and his friends
Wake up. Wake up to a pure nation, clean air, bright future. METRO 2039 | Official Reveal Trailer
partyom for the *people
GVYBEWYGBUHDHYEIBUFYQWEUGYFDVBEUDHSHEHEHEHEHE
WHAT. THE. ACTUAL. FUCKKKKKKK.
THIS TRAILER WAS SICK I DON'T KNOW IF I CAN WAIT UNTIL WINTER. WHAT DO YOU THINK???
IDK WHY THE VID GOT WEIRDLY CROPPED AND THEN THE QUALITY DROPPED AND I RAAAHHH (i am making this for a school project, yes i will force the entire class to look at pavel)
Privates, take this comrade in.
I knew this would happen and yet my heart was ripped into million little pieces…-_-
“(…) Along the stretch of tunnel between Chertanovo and Southern, just two stations down from Sebastopol, a branch line budded off and merged into the gigantic bulge of the Warsaw Metro Depot, criss-crossed with the fine veins of dozen dead ends and drainage tunnels. For Homer, with his reverential awe of trains, the depot was an eerie and mystical place, like an elephants’ graveyard. The old man could talk about it for hours at time - if only he could find listeners willing to believe him. (…)”
D. Glukhovsky, “Metro 2034″, p. 41.
An Event in the Depths of Moscow
Embers flew up into the dark concrete above as soft cracklings filled the ears of the dying man.
A once crisp uniform now hung on his body in tatters. Blood stained and torn. The man’s face was filled with painful nostalgia. Tears fell down his unshaven face but he kept smiling. The unholy creatures that had done him in lay several feet away. Dead.
“We sure showed them didn’t we, Alder?”
Another man sat across the fire from the dying man. His head in his hands, black hair spilling through his fingers.
A pistol lay in the dirt by his feet. The slide locked back. An empty brass case lay in the dust next to the gun.
“Those were great days. Remember them like yesterday, don’t you Alder?”
The black haired man shook his head. His gloved hands shaking.
“I do.”
“Better days. Better days.” Muttered the dying man as he tossed a photograph into the fire. The image of a group of friends climbing over each other to get into frame in front of a historic surface building cracked and fell to ash.
“I’m so sorry...”
“It was bound to happen someday Alder. There’s no need to feel sorry for me.”
A bloodstained satchel lay next to a slowly growing pool of blood. The dying man reached into it, drawing another photo.
“Oh Alder. Look at you in this one. You were so young. Your hair was so short back then.”
Alder gripped his hair, trying to pull it out.
“So it was... I... I’ll keep that one.”
“No Alder, it goes into the fire too.”
The dying man’s hand flicked the portrait photograph of a smiling young man posing in front of a tall white building into the flames.
Alder flinched, almost trying to grab it out of the fire.
“You aren’t that boy I once knew anymore. You’ve changed so much. I almost couldn’t believe that you were the one who came out of the shadows to my aid. Ah, too little to late eh?”
Another photo was drawn from the satchel. This one showed the same group from the first picture. This time there was no pushing and squeezing necessary to get into frame.
“Didn’t care for the cold up on the surface. Still, we all had each other back then.”
The dying man tossed the photo into the embers. His nostalgic smile never failing.
The next photo he drew from the bag was another group photo. This time there were only a few friends in the center of the wide photo.
“We still had each other even then.”
The man sighed, his life pooling around him. He then dumped the rest of the satchel into the fire. Hundreds of photos burning up as tears ran down his face.
“It’s just you now Alder. Isn’t it?”
Alder was crying with the dying man. He looked into the man’s fading eyes.
“Yes...”
The dying man grinned. He reached into his pocket, pulling out an ornate revolver. Intricate geometric engravings inlaid with gold wrapped around the barrel.
“Here, I want you to take this.”
The man said softly. Alder crouched next to the dying man. He cradled the gun in his hands.
“That pretty thing got me through the tunnels when I was young. It’ll get the job done with only one shot. No need to watch a friend die from hungry nosalises again, eh?”
Alder stood, wiping tears from his face. He held the gun out, aimed at the dying man’s head.
“I’ll make you proud. I promise.”
Alder turned his head away as he spoke.
“Good.”
A small flash of fire ended the dying man’s suffering. A thunderous echo rattled through the dark tunnel. The light of the fire slowly faded into the night as the sound of soft footsteps faded just the same.
Incorrect Metro quotes 58
Artyom: Fist me.
Pavel: I- What the fuck do you-
Artyom, holding out his fist for a fist bump: Fist me.
Pavel: Right- Okay, fuck- That's what you meant, okay.
Incorrect Metro quotes 70
Ulman: Artyom, I need a favour!
Artyom: I’m not giving Pavel a lap dance again.
Miller: Lap dance?!
Anna: Again?!
Incorrect Metro quotes 77
Pavel: Hey, dude-
Artyom: You had your tongue in my mouth five minutes ago, don’t you dare call me “dude”.
i just realized how huge is miller like, damn, how do you even pass trough doors ??
whats this 😭😭
This is literally how it feels to watch Artum pin pavel to the floor and hold a knife to his neck /hj