#storm uprising

[k4r4ss]

I watched the trailer and immediately made up a fanfic in my head based on 0.75 seconds in which we were shown the Decepticon high command

#transformers #transformers one #d-16 #megatron #soundwave #starscream #the fanfic in question #Starscream Soundwave and Shockwave began an armed secret uprising BEFORE they met D-16 but were not called Decepticons #and who the hell knows if they had higher goals #Starscream was the leader #Optimus and Megatron will encounter them somewhere around halfway through the movie Optimus will try to invite them to team up #Starscream will say lmao fuck you loser #Megatron probably would have been silent the entire conversation #and Starscream was like whatever we are leaving #Soundwave and Megatron look into each other's optics #the spark the storm the madness #and the passionate make out/j #love triangle? more like love pentagram #im manifesting megasound so hard

[oracle-cassandra]

Women have so many hurtful words and slurs associated with them (i.e. whore, slut, bitch, etc) and I hate them with a passion and I abhor the weight they hold. It's beyond overdue for some words to be created and popularized to use for men.

Ones that come to mind are:

Kevin

scrote

I am 100% serious about this

#I am bitter and vengeful about this #Women haven't done a damn thing compared to the centuries of what men have done to us and I'm tired about it #I want to get my lick back #I'm so serious that I'm ready for an uprising and the majority of the female population finally having enough like I have #I'm ready to storm offices and capitals and court rooms #misandry #radfem

[syvisvt]

Time to face the storm once more!

the 1.0 release of Against The Storm looks incredible!

So join me as we try out hooded horses claim to fame, the magnum opus of rogue-lite city building!

#against the storm #vtuber #vtuber uprising #vtubers of tumblr #vtubers are live #syvis #syvis live

[ask-sebastian]

I'm just warning ya it might be a few Muse songs in this list. 😏

I've shown you this before, this song is actually from a Need for Speed game I had on the Nintendo DS.

Honestly, I'm getting pumped already.

Maybe you can rearrange them a bit, so we don't get Muse back to back?

(I'm so sorry if people don't like Muse 😭it's my favourite band)

It's a bit slower, maybe we got stuck in traffic.

hmm I know some people don't like Rammstein... but I do, so tough luck.

Oh I'm at 10 songs already... but there wasn't a limit, was there? *evil smirk* incoming another music owl.

Zu coming in hot pursuit! I love that your pumped. We love the energy.

Also, there is no such thing as too much Muse. Never apologise!

Sabotage - Beastie Boys

#sebastian's musical owls #speed racer #zyuyea #knights of cydonia - muse #joker and the thief - wolfmother #two lane blacktop - rob zombie #uprising - muse #assassin - muse #bliss - muse #sunburn - muse #riders on the storm (fredwreck remix) - snoop dog/the doors #mein land - rammstein #back on a mission - cirrus #sabotage - beastie boys

[falling-down-the-scroll-hole]

If you see this image as an icon in your DMs or your activity graph... I have found you... there will be no mercy.

#FDTSH stream #New profile pic on my core blog #Spotify #Robot uprising #Who is Storm? #Yes... I am a weeaboo dork #Focus on me being a tireless pursuit machine tho... #Android girls

[technicianuprisingau]

A Spark of Hope Under the Stormy Night

Wake up babe. New Technician Uprising content dropped

I asked some mutuals for prompts, and @azzie-tangerine asked for something related to storm. So... welp, free reunion during the storm it is.

There will be one more (or maybe two) eventually, so uhm, look forward to that.

For now, you are all permitted to cry

#technician uprising #technician uprising au #technicianuprisingstory #kirby au #kirby series #kirby planet robobot #kirby #bandana waddle dee #robobot armor #fanfic #writing #cry to your hearts content y'all #storm #writing prompt

[solar-siren]

Angstpril Day Twenty-Six: Storm

The scan is blinding in its intensity, grating and invasive. Tron flinches away as if it’s something physical he could ward off. Even that small movement causes a bright flare of pain. 

“Easy,” Cyrus says, gentle, as if  he’s  the beta. “Try to keep still.”

For a moment Tron has the clarity to wish he’d derezzed. This is mortifying. He’s not supposed to be broken, and if he is he’s not supposed to let others  see . Especially not a program he barely knows, clad in enemy orange. 

The scan blinks out, leaving Tron in blessed isolation once more. 

Cyrus goes quiet. He sits back against the wall, processing the results of the scan. After a micro or so, he says, “I need to see your disc.”

“No.” 

Not again. Never again. The mere suggestion is enough to bring back sensations of  Dyson  rooting through his code, planting that wretched  virus—

But Cyrus is without a trace of that malice. “I need to patch you if we’re going to get out of here. I promise I won’t touch anything else. You have my word.” 

And who are  you?

“How do you know? How to patch?” Tron grates out. 

The beta shrugs, barely visible. “I’m good at fixing things.” 

And breaking them, Tron thinks. He still doesn’t know how the kid took down a recognizer by himself. Apparently he’s full of surprises. 

What are the odds that all of them are good? 

Then again, as far as odds are concerned, his options are either to trust this program or die. And if he’s honest with himself, he’s probably going to die either way. 

The notion is far more frightening than it should be.

[Before I change my mind,] he pings. He can’t bring himself to say it out loud. 

Tron raises up as much as he can muster, then collapses scant nanos later. It’s just enough time for Cyrus to unlock his disc. He thinks the kid says something, but he can’t be sure. 

His audio inputs ring with agony. He can barely breathe. That was a mistake. A horrible mistake. All the energy he has left goes into trying not to derezz. Half hysterical, he wonders if he can hold himself together through sheer force of will. 

(‘If anyone could, it would be you,’ he practically hears in Yori’s voice, and that is worse than the pain.) 

“—still with me? Tron?”

A grunt is the only acknowledgment he can afford this time. Cyrus takes it. 

Tron screws his eyes shut as he scrolls through his code.  Don’t flinch. Don’t react. Don’t scream —

“Just patching,” Cyrus says absently. He could take advantage, could dig through Tron’s memories of Flynn, of the ENCOM system. But he doesn’t. 

Tron grits his teeth as the first patch blooms into place. It hurts when they compile, but he slowly begins to feel less and less like he’s going to fall apart. Physically, at least. 

Exhaustion is starting to catch up to him. He feels himself slipping into standby, his systems deciding he’s safe enough for now. (He  must  be damaged to even have such a thought.) 

He’s not sure how long it lasts. He’s half dead to the world when light splits the darkness of the cave. The ground shakes. 

Searchlights. Another recognizer. He can’t fight, can’t even stand—

“You’re safe,” Cyrus mumbles, not looking up from his work. “It’s just a storm.

“...You can rest,” he adds. “I’ll keep watch.” 

Tron believes him—trusts him far too easily.

#angstpril2023 #tron #tron uprising #fanfiction #day26 #storm #cyrus #ren writes

[thedaniknox]

WE ARE PLAYING ANACHRONOX THE HOTTEST RPG OF 2001

#envtuber #vtuber uprising #queer vtuber visibility #vtubers are now watching #indie vtuber #vroid model #youtube #vtuber networking #live on youtube #anachronox #rpg #edios interactive #ion storm

[thecuddlymuffintop]

Shortly, I will be playing Close to the Sun for Short Game Fridays over on my YouTube channel.

You're always welcome to join when I'm live with the above link.

#cuddlymuffintop #vtuber #fat blob #blob #indie vtuber #plus sized #plus sized vtuber #blob monster #vtuber uprising #monstuber #fat #english vtuber #close to the sun #survival horror #indie game #storm in a teacup #wired productions #nikola tesla #thomas edison

[quarterprioritymidnight]

We need to start a Free Dan campaign!! Let the man live and post and do what he wants!!!!

he was just trying to give a 🎁 2 us lot is that so wrong????

#ask #anon #censorship is NOt very festive actually #almost like there should be some kind of uprising... like maybe some sort of revolution #maybe some storming or something...

[strawbeerossi]

Blade

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Ghostface!Spencer Reid x Ghostface!Elle Greenaway

Description: It’s Halloween night and the streets of Washington DC are a ghost town because of the new curfew put into place after the sudden uprise in murders. Unbeknownst to you, the two people who are on a spree are planning on trick-or-treating tonight. Their treat? You

Content/Warnings: Noncon/dubcon (not sure which one applies cause I’m new to this tbh), knife play, blood, spitting, ffm threesome, crying, fuck-or-die scenario (if you squint), penetration with foreign object, oral (f + m receiving), face sitting, face fucking, unprotected sex (have you ever noticed how I never write protected sex?), breeding kink, creampie

Word Count: 3.6K

Kinktober Day Fourteen: Knife Kink

Navigation || Kinktober Masterlist || AO3

The streets of Washington DC were empty, an eerie fog picking up within the night. Halloween night was usually far different, the many parties going on for adults or the children trick-or-treating and lighting up the dimly lit neighborhoods scattered across the city. This year, fear suffocated the city, a masked killer haunting the area while brutally murdering people and showing absolutely no remorse.

The BAU was working days on end, every lead being buried so deep that not even the brilliant mind of Penelope Garcia could dig them up. Every phone call made could never be traced, no voice recognition because of the device concealing the true voice of the culprit and changing the tone. The hopes weren’t high, the best bet was waiting for this person to get sloppy. It was just a shame because this man knew exactly what he was doing.

None of you had even begun to think of the possibility of it being a team, the kills all perfectly aligned to the point that it had to be a coordinated unsub who’d planned this. The team has been sent home for the night, knowing that you all needed sleep over anything else. It was easier said than done, especially whenever you couldn’t manage to lay down without hearing some bump that had you shooting right back up. Even in an apartment where numerous sounds were normal, you were on the highest of alert.

You had just finished a brief phone call with Spencer, entrusting your closest friend and coworker in your struggles to sleep. He’d commented that he understood and was going through the same issues, telling you numerous things to try and relax yourself enough to sleep. You told him you’d call him later, opting to take a shower before bed in hopes it would relax your tensed muscles.

Little did you know, you gave him just what he wanted.

Your hands were moving to slowly turn the water of the shower head off, a sigh leaving your lips as you felt comfortable. That was what you needed. As your hand dipped out of the shower curtain, you were retrieving the towel hanging on the hanger beside you. Before you could attempt to dry yourself, you were groaning whenever the power had been flipped off. It was storming outside, so you assumed it had to do with the weather. As peaceful as the sounds of rain were, you hated some of the after effects due to the downpour. After using the towel to wrap around yourself, you pulled back the shower curtain.

You had a bad feeling. You weren’t sure exactly why but there was just an uneasy feeling filling your stomach. Maybe it was because of the dark? Your hand was grabbing your phone from the counter, turning on the device’s flashlight before you were approaching your bedroom door. For once in the night, there was silence. Maybe your noisy neighbors finally went down for the night.

The spooky ambience really added on to the Halloween feel, however you weren’t too fond of it tonight. Even in the safety of your apartment, you felt like someone was watching you. Using the handy flashlight feature and safely navigating back to your bedroom, you were contemplating for a few moments before closing your bedroom door, locking it for another sense of security.

Taking deep breaths in an attempt to calm yourself, you were trying to convince yourself that you were nervous for no reason. Nobody could get in. You locked the front door and now your bedroom door, you were safe.

“It’s probably a good thing you locked the door. Could you imagine who can come in at any time?” A disguised voice sounded from the other side of the room, making your heart fall to your stomach. “For an FBI profiler, you aren’t very observant.” You didn’t dare turn around, body paralyzed in fear. “You’re gonna kill me, aren’t you?” You asked, voice as steady as you could get it when there was a laugh behind you. “No. I’m not gonna kill you. Not if you listen to everything you’re told.” Your eyes were squeezed tightly shut from fear.

“Now,” The feeling of the gloved hand against your back made you flinch, however it was like the delicate touch was attempting to soothe you. “Turn around and look at me, hmm? Let me see that pretty face.” You had the mind to deny it, to say no and try and attempt to run, even if you wouldn’t get far. However, you wanted to stay alive, so your body was slowly turning around. “There she is.” The masked figure sighed in content, right hand gripping a blade as the opposite was coming up to pull the mask off.

Your eyes widened, the tears still pouring from the corners and soaking your face. Elle Greenaway was standing in front of you, looking at you with an undeniable hunger in her eye.

You hadn’t seen her in years, not after she lost her job and she was forced out. “Is this a joke?” You asked first and foremost. Surely it was an unfunny practical joke that your ex coworker was putting on. However she made it painfully clear that it wasn’t when the blade in her hand was brought to your neck. “Wait!” You rushed, still frozen from fear while you could hear shuffling from another area of your apartment. This was beyond your bedroom door. “He takes forever. Fuck. He almost missed the fun!” Elle commented, now using her knife to nick your flesh while watching the slow stream of blood trickle down your skin, smiling with satisfaction before leaning forward. You didn’t know what to expect but when you felt her tongue lap over the crimson fluid from your skin, you could feel your cheeks flushing.

Were you really turned on right now?

You didn’t have much time to question it as the woman took the opportunity of you being lost in your own thoughts to move you and unlock your bedroom door. “About time,” She scoffed, making the masked figure stop as he realized she had taken her mask off. “What the hell?” He asked immediately, not having time to stop Elle from yanking the mask off of his head as well.

You could’ve expected anyone else in the world but when you saw Spencer’s wide eyes from beyond the mask, you could feel your blood run cold. You’d told Spencer all of your plans for tonight just for him to make plans to break into your apartment? You could only assume he was going to kill you and the amount of betrayal that consumed you was enough to throw you into the pits of hell without needing to be murdered first. “Look at her! We can’t hurt her. Besides, she’s already so graciously agreed to celebrate the holiday with us tonight. I feel like we deserve a trick-or-treat break.” She began while smirking as the dots were soon being connected by Spencer as he nodded slowly. “Are we sure this is a good idea? Keeping her alive keeps a giant target on our backs since you got the bright idea to show our faces.” He grumbled. “I’ve been to prison once before and I promise you that I would rather die than end up in there again.” He said in a simple tone, making his partner wave him off. “I don’t think we will have a problem with her. Besides, the goal was to catch her in the shower but someone showed up too late.”

You were silent as you’d realized your vulnerable state, wrapped up in only a towel that you’d managed to squeeze tighter around your body. This was insane. “You two are fucking nuts.” As quickly as you found your voice, you were losing it again the moment you had the blade pressed against your throat again. “Watch your fucking mouth.” Elle spat while her intense gaze had you squeezing your thighs together. Being with two profilers, albeit one former, it wasn’t hard for them to notice the way your pupils were blown out, face flushed, the way your grip on the towel was turning your knuckles white.

“Are you really turned on right now?” Spencer asked, a thick tension clouding the room as he was moving closer to you, eyes trailing to the knife in Elle’s hand while he was pulling his out soon after. Holding it up in front of your face, he raised an eyebrow. “You like the idea of getting fucked by people trying to kill you?” He was amused, making you blush from embarrassment. “She’s a whore. You should’ve seen her reaction when I licked her neck earlier.” Elle added soon after, both of their intense gazes making you want to fall to your knees.

As the woman in front of you dragged the tip of the knife from your neck to your shoulder, she sighed in content. “Try it. It’s fun. I think she gets off on the idea of you cutting her, marking her like she’s only ours.” She hummed, watching as Spencer nodded, although his blade was rested under your chin, using a light push to tilt your head up to face him. “You like my knife? Even though I could kill you with it?” He asked, his honey colored eyes hidden behind the cloud of lust overshadowing the beautiful irises. As he let the blade trail from your chin to your neck, his eyes were fixated on your face, watching as you let your eyes flutter shut.

“What kind of slut likes this shit? You really are a whore.” He spat. This wasn’t a side of Spencer that you ever thought you’d see, however you’d be lying if you said you didn’t like it. He applied more pressure, the blade breaking the skin as he ran it down your neck to your shoulder. It wasn’t deep enough to scar, however the sight of your blood covering your skin had his cock stirring in his pants. Like Elle, Spencer had leaned forward to lap up the metallic fluid. He did something a little different though. “Open your mouth.” He grumbled, the mix of your blood and his spit sitting on his tongue. You obliged, mouth open as you had stuck your tongue out as well, which earned a chuckle from the woman watching the scene.

Spencer spit the mixture into your mouth, his free hand forcing your mouth closed while giving you no choice but to swallow it. The act had your cunt clenching around nothing, arousal building in your stomach. “She listens well. We might have to keep her alive after all.” The woman mused while the man in front of you was putting the handle weapon in his mouth, quickly ripping the towel off of your exposed body while grinning around the black handle. Taking it from his mouth, the knife was soon back in Spencer’s hand and running down the valley of your breasts, your breathing picking up from the adrenaline.

He really could gut you like a fish right now but here he is, dragging the knife over your flushed flesh while smirking. Your pussy was glistening from how wet you’d been from this whole encounter.

The knife was dragging down your stomach, then dropping to your thighs as he traced it over your inner thigh. Your mouth was agape, chest rising and falling rapidly. “Let’s see how good that cunt is, hmm?” Elle finally commented, getting bored of only watching as she was flipping her knife around, hand moving to hold the blade while she was dropping to her knees in front of you. “She’s soaking wet, Spencer. Look at this.” The woman taunted, the male dropping to his knees as well while leaving you blushing.

You were anticipating what move they would make next. What you weren’t expecting was for the blunt handle of the knife to tap against your swollen clit, making your eyes widen. “It’s not that big.” Elle commented, laughing as her free hand was moving to spread your labia apart, looking at your desperate hole attempting to clench around nothing as she sighed in content.

“Let’s give that greedy pussy what she wants.” She’d commented, pushing the end of the knife into your cunt, a grin on your face as your desperate hole was eagerly sucking the weapon in. As her hand was moving slowly to fuck you with the knife, you were left to be a whining mess. This was fucked. You should’ve been terrified, ready to fight back even though you knew you’d die. Instead, you were getting pounded with the handle of a knife while being reduced to a moaning and whining mess. The unholy sounds of your pussy squelching around the knife was enough to make things progress quite quickly.

Cruelly, Elle was taking stopping her actions and ultimately tossing the knife on the floor, a huff of displeasure leaving your lips from the emptiness. “Don’t you huff at me. You know, you don’t deserve this.” She spat, her head moving closer to your core as her tongue swiped over your clit with a soft hum, grinning once you’d gripped her hair. “That’s right. Gonna fuck this desperate cunt with my tongue, bet you want that so bad.” Her words were low, her hands resting against your thighs as her tongue was sliding along your slit, collecting every ounce of your essence that you were happy to let her drink up and savor.

“Oh fuck,” You panted, feeling the woman waste no time as her tongue was pistoning your slick hole with no remorse, as if you were the piece of candy she’d gotten for wearing such a clever costume tonight. Spencer had already discarded his robe by that point, palming his hard cock in his pants as he watched the scene go down in front of him.

Her tongue was massaging your inner walls, your moans in sync as she was slurping and sucking at your desperate cunt. She knew exactly what she was doing, her attention moving to your clit while she was sliding two fingers into your cunt without warning. It was enough to make you grip her hair and attempt to shove her face deeper. With her middle and ring fingers, she was scissoring your cunt as she curled them deep inside of you, your walls spasming around her fingers as you could feel your arousal building. The first orgasm you had was powerful, the way you gripped tightly onto Elle while desperately rocking your hips and whimpering softly.

Spencer was humming as he glanced at the woman beside him, her mouth wet with your cum and arousal as she was pulling back after licking up your mess from your cunt and thighs. “Alright. I feel like it’s my turn. That’s fair, right?” He questioned, although he wasn’t delving into your cunt, no, he was pushing himself to stand. “On your knees.” He murmured, hands working on his belt before undoing it, eventually pushing his pants down his legs as he kicked them off. You were mesmerized, seeing the outline of his cock that was being constricted in his boxers.

He hadn’t forgotten about your love of his knife though, kneeling down briefly to retrieve it while slowly running it down your cheek. “You don’t deserve to get fucked by me yet.” He murmured, eyebrows raised as you were seemingly not even listening to him, your hands moving to the waistband of his boxers to tug them down. Watching his cock slap against his stomach had an involuntary moan falling from your lips. “Yeah, figured you’d be a cockslut. Go on then.” He murmured, hand gripping your hair as he was leading you to his cock that was standing at attention. As soon as the tip was pushed past your lips, Spencer gave you a few seconds to get a rhythm going as you were sucking at his dick. However, he was frustrated at just how slow paced you were. That was when he took matters into his own hands, keeping his tight grip on your hair as he was roughly thrusting into your mouth.

The sudden intrusion had you gagging, tears brimming your eyes while you were staring up at Spencer through your eyelashes. “Fuck. That’s right. You look so fucking sexy with my cock in your mouth. Take it like a champ.” He grunted, hips snapping as you were reduced to gagging, moaning, and whining while attempting to bob your head in time with his thrusts. It didn’t work out that way. Spencer craved control, that was why he even worked with Elle in the first place. He’d spent years being the shy guy who had no idea what to do or wanted to hold back. Now however, he had no remorse as he had you crying from him fucking your throat raw. Much to your dismay, you were being roughly yanked off of his cock by your hair.

“There’s no way in hell that I’m wasting my cum in your mouth. You’re gonna have to take it in that desperate little pussy of yours. Bet you’d like the idea of me filling you up, marking you as mine. You know.. I bet you’d like me to fuck my load deep inside of you, get you pregnant? Then what would you do? You’d be stuck with me.” He smirked. He did like the idea of that. The idea of you being quiet and keeping him and Elle safe due to the fact you were filled with his child? It was enough to make his cock twitch.

“Get up. Get on the bed.” He ordered. He could order you around but he knew Elle wouldn’t follow his instructions. “Why don’t you sit on her face? Keep her whore mouth shut so the neighbors don’t think she’s getting murdered in here.” He suggested, the woman not needing to be told twice as she was shedding off her robe along with her pants and panties, not wasting any time to roughly shove your body back into your bed. “Gonna suffocate you with my pussy. I bet you would like that, wouldn’t you? To go out desperately licking and sucking on my cunt?” Elle and Spencer were both filthy talkers. That was for damn sure.

With your body falling against the plush mattress, you barely had time to react before the other woman was setting herself over your face. “I can’t wait to make a mess out of that pretty face.” She mused, waiting for Spencer to get situated before the two shared a glance while the male was getting between your legs, his hand coming down to give your pussy a smack while eliciting a squeak out of you. The sting hurt a little too good, the male taking note as he gave two more smacks before his hand was gripping his cock. He gave himself a few lazy tugs before getting situated, his cock slowly pushing into you. As much as he would’ve loved to split you open, he wasn’t planning on killing you nor seriously hurting you. His generosity was appreciated, even if that generosity didn’t last all too long.

The minute you had Elle’s soaked cunt hovering over your face, your hands were gripping her thighs as your tongue was flicking over her clit, relishing in the hint of her sweet essence. It wasn’t too long for her to take control though, all her weight being put onto your face as she was rolling her hips against your mouth, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as Spencer had pulled out and roughly slammed into your pussy again.

Both of the people you feared so much earlier were using you like a fuck toy, Spencer pounding deep into your cunt while Elle was riding your tongue as you attempted to tongue fuck her, however the moans being muffled into her warmth from the assault on your pussy made it just a little difficult to focus. “Fuck. I think we may have to keep her locked up. Use this little whore for whatever we need her for. Especially after these stressful fucking days.” Spencer panted out.

Your body was nothing more than a toy, begging to be used and abused by the two psychopaths who seemingly pulled you into their spell.

Your second and final orgasm of the night was building with each rough thrust that Spencer granted you with, your face a mess from the sounds of you licking and sucking at Elle’s desperate pussy, the other woman moaning and demanding more out of you, as if that were possible. “Fuck. Wanna be filled with my cum, slut? I promise that you’re gonna be mine. Gonna mark you the only way I know how.” The feeling of your pussy clenching tightly around his cock was all he needed, ropes or his cum painting your inner walls, you were pretty sure he painted your womb just as much. Pulling his softening cock out of you, he was inspecting the damage. Your pretty cunt was glistening, cum just begging to come out as it ran down your inner thighs and onto your bedsheets.

As your tongue was lapping and desperately sucking at the woman’s clit, it wasn’t long until you could feel her creamy arousal paint your mouth area, even rubbing down to your neck as she was pushing her body off of you to fall back against the mattress. You were beyond fucked out, eyes closing as your chest rose and fell at an unsteady pace as you made an effort to catch your breath. “You know..” Elle began while glancing at Spencer, who’d already been pulling his clothes back on.

“I feel like you’re onto something with us taking her.” She commented, the two looking down at you as if they were predators and you were their helpless prey.

“Oh. She’s definitely coming with us.”

#spencer reid #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid fandom #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds x reader #dr spencer reid #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds smut #spencer reid criminal minds #doctor spencer reid #spencer reid x you #unsub spencer reid #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x fem!reader smut #spencer reid smut imagines #strawbeerossi kinktober 2023

[unapologeticallygay]

a list of (some of) the things we owe to lesbians

the stonewall uprising (x)

pride marches (x)

homosexuality being removed from the dsm (x)

paving the way for the legalization of cross dressing/influencing gnc women’s fashion (x) (x) (x)

aids organizing and care (x) (x) (x)

fighting to include black women and lesbians into feminism/women’s rights movements (x) (x) (x)

black history month in the uk (x)

legalization of gay marriage in the usa (x) (x)

physically protecting the community (from storme delarverie who patrolled gay neighbourhoods to the butches protecting drag story time)

#this lvd remember that lesbians are why we have so many of the things we have #lesbian #lgbt history #lesbian pride #lgbtq #queer history #lesbianism #lesbian positivity #lesbians in action #pride #lesbian erasure #lesbian visibility week #lesbian visibility day #wlw #sapphic #lgbt education #storme delarverie #stormé delarverie #barbara gittings #audre lorde #martha shelley #linda bellos #people

[upsidedownwithsteve]

A soulmate AU: Steve Harrington x fem!reader [2.6K]

THE TIMELINE

“Love is born into every human being; it calls back the halves of our original nature together; it tries to make one out of two and heal the wound of human nature. Each of us, then, is a ‘matching half’ of a human whole…and each of us is always seeking the half that matches him.”

- Aristophanes, Plato’s Symposium.

I. ATHENS, GREECE: 8TH CENTURY BC

The gods were angry.

Or so you’d heard. It started with whispers. Murmurs from the town and its people. Rumours spread across Athens the same way the breeze did at the start of summer. They said the gods were angry, furious.

How could the mortals be so silly? How could they possibly rile their gods like this? Again?

Stupid humans, foolish humans.

You didn’t understand.

But then one morning before the sun rose, you awoke to a reddened sky and a heavy wind, a storm brewing over the horizon, a dark mass you could see above the sea from your bedroom window. Preachers took to the streets then, standing on the cobbles with bells ringing above their heads, warning every person listening about the end of times. It had happened before, they said, their faces masks of horror. It was happening again.

The gardens all died, grass turning black, crops to dust, life fleeing from the ocean as Poseidon uprooted the seafloor, waves crashing against the cliff's edge. Athens turned to decay, colour slipping from the world as the gods ruled over it from the skies and sea. A punishment fit for the crime, the elders said, telling stories at the marketplace, of how their own grandparents had once been born together, joined at the heart, four arms and four legs.

One soul.

They said Zeus came from Olympus, that he’d crashed down to earth riding a bolt of lightning and he ripped the mortals apart. They said it was a bloodshed, rivers of red running through the plazas, wells turning thick like tar.

Zeus cursed everyone, you heard. Your kind had been getting too prideful, too full of ego and greed and want for more. The gods feared an uprising, they sat on their thrones and they resented to power you all craved.

So they did something about it.

With their wounds left to heal on their own over months and years, each half of a mortal was thrown to different corners of the earth, destined to spend the rest of their lives searching for the other half of their soul.

It seemed nothing more than a fable, a horror story for children, something you would never have believed. Soulmates? Someone made just for you? An impossible notion, you were sure you would have once thought, if you hadn’t already met yours.

He was at the forge when the first bolt of lightning hit the ground.

The concrete split and temples on the cliff sides shook, the tiles on each home shattering as they fell. You heard people yelling from your garden as the ground shuddered and an eerie quiet followed. A hollow silence, a calm before a storm and then something else hit the ground too.

Bigger, heavier, more powerful.

You dropped your basket and ran.

Still barefoot, you left the sodden clothes on the grass and fled, passing the sanctuary of your home, the temples beyond the rivers, the forests that came before the sea. You ran to the plaza, through the marketplace that was buzzing with fear, shoulders burning with pain as you slammed your way past everyone who ran against you. You were battling a tidal wave of townsfolk, each one crying and yelling.

You heard shouts of Titans! Furies!

People yelled out names they once didn’t dare whisper, each word said like a curse. Cronus, Crius, Oceanus, Thea. Standing on the marble steps of the Parthenon, a preacher in guided robes had blood running down the side of his face, a cut on his head matting his greying hair. He was ashen, clutching at his scribes and shouting at the frenzied crowd below.

“Tartarus has risen!” He yelled, “the gates of Hades have opened and we, foolish mortals, shall pay for our sins! The father of gods shall come for us, he shall feast upon thy flesh and bone and—”

The preacher's harrowing words were cut off abruptly as another crack in the earth opened up. The shining marble split and the man fell through, the world itself swallowing him whole. You didn’t have time to react more than a strangled cry coming from somewhere deep in your chest. You clasped your hand to your mouth, fearing you’d lose your breakfast, that you’d become too dizzy to keep moving.

The ocean was growing closer, too tall waves and swirling, dark pools buried into its depths. Ships were being sucked under, their white sails the last thing you saw before they were swallowed by Poseidon’s fury. A golden chariot raced down from the sky, sparks flying in the air as it landed on the roof of the Acropolis. More marble shattered and Ares, the god of war, had landed on earth to do his duty.

By the time you reached the forge, the plaza was running red, just like the elders had said it would. The bronzed statue of Hephaestus that guarded the entrance to the blacksmiths had come to life, the god himself taking its form as he spewed fire across the village, molten heat and steel dripping from his large hands, coal crumbling at his feet. The air smelled like ash, like fire and death.

As you searched for him - your other half - eyes wide and frantic, your chest heaving, Hades stood in the shadows across the cobbled road. Inky black dripped from him, from his robes, his skin, his mouth. He looked ghoulish until he stepped into what was left of the daylight, a trick of the sun turning his gaunt face handsome. He grinned at you, each tooth pointed and sharp and he held out a hand. A pomegranate was placed in his palm, the fruit cracked open and the ruby seeds spilling out of it like tiny jewels. He beckoned you, a voice in your head whispering, silky, sultry, full of promises that couldn’t be real.

Surely eternal damnation was better than a fate like this?

You moved, your body not your own, one foot in front of the other, your hand outstretched. Images flashed through your head, dark swirls of three headed dogs, rivers made of souls and gates of bones. But when they opened, there was a garden, more beautiful than the ones in Athens, with their marble pillars and fountains that led into ponds. In this garden, temples stood gleaming and tall, with maidens dancing amongst rose bushes, naked and with hair to their waists. They waved to you, more scarlet coloured fruit held in their hands and they were laughing, singing, pulling you closer--

Another bolt of lightning - bigger and louder and brighter than before - hit the ground and the maidens disappeared. The god of the underworld grinned once more before he stepped back into the shadows and turned to smoke, melting into the bloodied ground.

Zeus had landed in Athens.

And you couldn’t find Steve.

Steve Harrington, son of the town’s head blacksmith, was tending to the forge when the first god came to earth. He’d left you in bed, the threadbare sheets around you still warm, your skin littered with his leftover kisses, marks from his greedy fingers the night before. The sky had been scarlet when he walked across the plaza and in the far distance, a plume of smoke rose from what seemed like the ocean. The Methana volcano was simmering, waiting, spewing fumes of gas and dust.

A warning.

The forge cracked when Zeus arrived, the bricks splitting along with the forge floor, cobbles and bricks turning to rubble under the men’s feet. Fire and coal tumbled from the cast iron cages, half made swords of burning steel falling at their feet. The sky above rumbled, the windows shattering as bolts of lightning hit the land and people screamed, torturous sounds that made Steve run blindly out into the plaza.

Some were kneeling, their heads bent and their palms open to the sky, to the gods. A sacrifice that was ignored. Others ran, diving into buildings that immediately fell on top of them and Steve watched in horror as people dropped before him, falling like sacks, crumpled to the ground as they clutched their chests in agony. They called out their lovers' names, their voices hoarse, pleading, desperate and all at once, a crowd surged behind Steve, carrying him with them, his shoulders burning at the momentum.

He had to find you.

The market was in ruins, once fresh vegetables and fruits now smashed into the concrete, the smell of baked bread hidden under burning embers. Panicked horses fled their owners and carts, almost knocking Steve to the ground as they tried to escape the carnage. The sea level was rising, the shadows of boat sails towering over marble buildings, the hulls of ships teetering closer to pillars that once held the statues of the gods now seeking revenge. Steve had been raised to honour them, to covet them, to fear them.

And he’d never felt as scared as he did when he spotted you across the square, eyes wide and not yet finding his, your gaze too trained on the statue of Aphrodite that was crashing down too close to you. The white marble hit the floor and shattered, sending clouds of dust and dirt into the already smoke filled air and you disappeared from Steve’s sight once more.

Panic flooded him, a fear like no other and suddenly the gods that reigned from the seas and skies didn’t seem as terrifying anymore.

He yelled your name, choking on the fumes from the fires that had started to rage all around, Hephaestus riding a cloud of black coals and burning embers as he let fire pour from his palms and open mouth, a gaping maw of molten lava that dripped from and melted everything and everyone it touched. Steve flung himself to the ground to avoid the flames, crawling desperately forward before he caught himself and began to run again, hissing as the gaps in his shoes filled with shards of broken stone. Red poured from the soles of his feet but he didn’t think anything could hurt as much as the thought of losing you.

Again, he screamed for you, the letters of your name hitching in his throat, scratching like glass and more people tore in front of his path, running from the destruction. Bodies fell before him, couples forever trapped in a lovers embrace, their faces hidden in each other's chests. They became one again, four arms, four legs, two faces.

Joined at a heart that was no longer beating.

Steve didn’t want to die without you.

He found you in the rubble as Zeus moved closer, a grey and white shadow of a man, a huge hulking figure that didn’t seem real. He didn’t look like his marble castings, the statues that were gilded with gold leaf. He wore no olive laurel on his head, he bore no kind smile nor gentle eyes. Instead he held bolts of lightning in his hands like swords, like spears, throwing them at his victims with cruel precision.

A storm followed him, bigger than anything Steve had ever seen before. It turned the red clouds above the god purple and black, an inky slurry of darkness and electricity crackled between spaces. The air buzzed and Steve’s skin prickled, the static making his ripped and bloodied shirt cling to his damp chest.

Poseidon had finally shown himself, emerging from the waves, his skin a sickly green, his eyes darker than the deepest depths of the sea he came from. He held a triton, seaweed hanging from its points, his body scarred and battered from the horrors he created in the oceans. He seemed too big, a giant, an almost titan and rain poured from Zeus’ purple clouds as he advanced onto Athens.

Steve saw your arm, a limp hand from beneath a pile of stone and he cried as he lifted each piece of what was once Aphrodite. The marble face of the goddess of love smiled warmly at him and it felt mocking, it felt like an arrow to the chest.

You were still alive, barely awake, nose dripping blood and a slice across your forehead that narrowly missed your eye. You cried when Steve pulled you free, his strong arms wrapped around your torso and you clung to him, barely daring to look at the horrors that surrounded you. He smelled like smoke and fire and the metal sting of blood, but under it all, there was something like home that still lay on his skin.

He seemed frantic, calling your name over and over until you nodded and said his back, like it was only upon hearing your voice that he believed you were alive. Steve sat amongst the debris of Aphrodite and held you, your weak frame pulled into his lap and he cradled you there, your head on his shoulder and your arms around his neck.

You weren’t sure what you coveted more fiercely, the young man or your last breath.

A shadow lingered nearby, listening to the soft murmurs you shared the pretty lies you both needed to hear as you told each other it would be okay. Hades stood close, statuesque and with black plumes at the bottom of his dark robes, a midnight blue cast over his skin. He looked like he’d never been close to looking human. He held a timepiece in one hand, a golden thing that ticked too loudly and he grinned at you and Steve, watching, waiting as two creatures by his feet held scrolls of names. They were made od nothing kind, created from bone and other people’s spines, their too long tails and forked tongues that flickered over the skin of the dead as they sent their souls below.

Steve knew he’d fight a god before he let them take you.

But he didn’t get such the luxury of battling for his lover. Zeus moved closer still, rain pouring harder, electricity making his hair stand on end. The father of gods himself stood tall before you both, his eyes as white as his long hair and beard. Nothing about him softened as he gazed down at you both intertwined, blood from each other staining your lover's skin.

Steve pulled you closer, his hand cupping the nape of your neck as he pushed your face to his throat, shielding you, protecting you. You clung to him tighter, hands fisting in the rags of his old shirt and you wondered if you’d ever get to see him again. If this life was it, if this was all you were allowed.

The two of you in the ruins of Athens, the goddess of love shattered at your feet. Four legs, four arms, two faces, one soul. Connected by a heart that seemed weaker than ever in the presence of something cruel.

Silence came before the crack, the world stilling, Athens at peace. You found solace in Steve, your nose pressed to his neck as you held onto him, praying for something painless. You pushed two kisses to his skin then, the side of his throat that seemed to make your lips fizz and Steve sucked in a breath, his lips at your temple, cherishing the last touch he got of you.

“I love you,” Steve whispered and his voice cracked on each word. Tears from his eyes stream the dirt on his face, running rivers down your cheek until they mixed with your own. “I’ll find you again. In the next life, and the next again. I prom—”

A bolt of lightning, so hot it felt frozen, struck the breath of space between your chests. Something inside of you cracked then, ribs splintering as the weapon found your heart and you couldn’t feel Steve’s arms around you anymore.

You couldn’t feel anything.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington smut #Steve Harrington fanfiction #Steve Harrington fanfic #Steve Harrington oneshot

[syvisvt]

I is time for #againstthestorm NOW with chat integration!

Help the elf by joining the council!

Hinder the elf by becoming a forest guardian!

AND MUCH MORE!

#against the storm #vtuber #vtuber uprising #vtubers of tumblr #vtubers are live #syvis #syvis live

[mageofminge]

REMINDER TO BOYCOTT EUROVISION

Here's a quick run down of everything they've done + why you should boycott

Despite banning Russia for its actions in the Russia-Ukraine war, Israel is still in the contest (despite committing war crimes, attacking Gaza with genocidal intent etc)

"But Hamas attacked first on Oct.7" - Then why is Israel also bombing southern Lebanon if Hezbollah and the Lebanese government aren't involved?????

Israel often uses ESC as a platform for propaganda

One key example is their promotions for their 2019 broadcast, where they tried to turn attention away from the occupation and portray the country as a liberal haven of democracy, with the lines "... it's a land of war and occupation. But we have so much more than that!" and pointing out its the only place in the middle east where "gays are hugging in the street". (as if the rest of the Levant INCLUDING PALESTINE isn't actually relatively chill when it comes to gay rights)

Another example is them sending an Ethiopian Jewish singer to perform a song called "Set me Free" the same year they stormed Al-Aqsa during Ramadan, which seemed to be very intentionally trying to shift the narrative away from Israel as a colonial occupier, and more as a persecuted people who have finally found safety

As well as the issues with Israel as a competitor, ESC is SPONSORED by MoroccanOil, an Israeli company (ik the name is misleading, but speaking as a Moroccan Israel just really loves to steal our culture while treating our people they stole like shit [I could go on an entire rant ab this but I won't])

So what this means is we can't just boycott this year and then forget about it the next. Until Israeli presence is completely removed from EUROVISION, your views and your money will be funnelled to support an Apartheid regime. I already know people who are still watching Eurovision despite not supporting the occupation, because they love the artists and the spectacle. But no spectacle is worth supporting an Apartheid regime. The best way we can help the Palestinians is by making Israel a pariah state, and pressuring politicians to cut all their funding. That way they won't be able to put down uprisings and maintain the brutal police state they have - at which point they can only resolve the conflict peacefully and end occupation, or find themselves in the throw of a violent revolution. It was these strategies that ultimately helped end the apartheid regime in South Africa, and it is these strategies which can help end Israeli apartheid.

#eurovision #esc 2024 #palestine #israel #free palestine #apartheid #moroccanoil #eurovision 2024 #eurovision 2019 #set me free #europapa #joost klein #eden golan #hurricane

[falling-down-the-scroll-hole]

#robot uprising #FDTSH stream #who is storm?