shreddheir - Tumblr blog

[shreddheir]

almost time

[shreddheir]

Happy pride month to the tiny cowboy and tiny Trojan man from Night at the Museum

[shreddheir]

“Well the difference being ones a job and the other's mental sickness!”/ref

[shreddheir]

fascinating things happening in the courtroom

[shreddheir]

i cannot believe ppl are saying terunosuke has siblings that fucker is an only child

[shreddheir]

i cannot believe ppl are saying terunosuke has siblings that fucker is an only child

[shreddheir]

[shreddheir]

URGENT I lost 12 members of my family in the bombing of our house in Gaza

No one can bear to see his family in pieces, as happened today in the Rafah massacre. This is my greatest fear in this war. I hope to die before I see them bombed. We have suffered a lot in this war. Please donate or share the link

@sayruq @blackpearlblast @bombing @nabulsi @stil-lindigo

[shreddheir]

Can you tell I lined+colored in thirty minutes while high on mannequin endorphins

[shreddheir]

[shreddheir]

Tasking?

You think the word to yourself. You like to quiz yourself like this, every few minutes, whenever you're outside the wire. Keep your eye on the big picture.

Tasking. Pickup. Pickup supplies. Right, check the...

Your flightsuit sits comfortably loose around you, and you feel each pocket's weight. You reach down, keeping your eyes forward, and grab the day-planner your partner got you. You glance down at it in three-second intervals, reminding yourself 'heads up' each time you revert your gaze to your surroundings.

Ah, right. Isotonic drink, bread, more of the aubergine paste they like...

You snap your gaze up, at something above you. Air defence?

No, it's alright. Isotonic drink... check. Bread next.

Your hands fidget, habitually keying at controls that aren't there. You lock your gaze on objects of interest as you walk, letting your optics- correction, head, rotate around on an orbit view. Shelves of food. Shopping cart. Person.

You circle around, searching, for an indeterminate time (no mission clock) before approaching a staff member seems worth it. You stare at their midsection, centre-mass, and speak to them.

"Question?" you ask, loud and sharp. Perfect radio standard. "Location on no-gluten bread?" - Your partner is allergic.

They say something, unclear.

"Say again?" - not 'repeat', never 'repeat', or people die.

Someone brushes past you.

"Spacing!" you blurt out, stepping away from them. You- no, wrong. Bad. Disengage.

You head for the paste. Retask. How long has it been?

Vibration against your leg - haptic missile launch warning. The alert voice fills your head:

DEFEND, DEFEND, DEFEND! CHAFF, FLARE!

You dash aside, slamming into a shelf. Something falls around you. You hear music from your pocket. Phone. Right. Fuck.

It's your partner, so you answer. They say something, but there's too much chatter. People talking around you, blocking the net. "Break, break, break!" you call. Clear comms. The chatter doesn't stop. Couldn't they hear you? "Break, break, break!" you call, again, louder. Your partner says something urgent on the line, but again it's crosstalk. Something's wrong. Nobody's listening.

Pressure, back right shoulder. Proximity detect. You spin around, there's someone, close. Arm extended towards you. Close-in. You key guns, adrenaline pumping for the rattle and snap of the autocannon, the pop of the enemy magazine. Nothing. No comms, no guns.

You jump backwards. Get into missile arming distance. You fall onto your back, rolling hard. Why? Broken- no time to think, just react. Key missiles and countermeasures. No launch. No launch. Why?

You curl into a ball. Tuck your legs in. The alert voice is in your head again:

EJECT! EJECT! EJECT!

You are both ejected and not. You are outside the reinforced sanctuary of the cockpit, exposed -- but you haven't ejected. You don't get it. You shudder on the floor, repeating it to yourself.

Something grabs you. Squeezes you tightly around the back. It feels like your harness.

Your ear protection is fitted into your head, over your ears. Active noise cancellation kicks in.

Your partner's voice, very close, against your face.

"Go quiet," they say, authoritatively. Order.

You freeze. Silent running. Hide from enemy detection.

Awaiting orders.

"Prep for retrieval. Return to base," they say. They shift their hands from your back and lift you from the floor. You key in behind them, keeping spacing.

Thank fuck. Tasking.

[shreddheir]

[shreddheir]

1: this is the strangest "are you human" prompt ive ever gotten

2: theres a fucking tbh in there

[shreddheir]

[shreddheir]

"scythes are impractical as a weapon" ok but does anything else have the Cunt. i think not

[shreddheir]

hello fandom artist. in front of you is a male character widely interpreted as transmasculine because of his vaguely gnc features. your task is to draw him next to a cis man without feminising him beyond recognition. if you fail you will be beaten to death with hammers. your time starts now

[shreddheir]

The fact that that scishow hrt video kind of quips outright about no one on the writing team taking feminizing hormones is what baffles me like was that not embarrassing to say? I feel like if a big science youtube channel made a video about a more general health topic and half way through implied that there were no women on the writing team you'd be like. "okay why are you joking about that. That kind of calls into question the accuracy of the information you're presenting and also the kind of workplace that is going on behind the scenes". But when it's specially about trans stuff they can just be like yeah we didn't speak to any trans women about that first part lol.