Once more dealing (for the SECOND TIME, IN TWO WEEKS) with a random blog deletion. Stand by.
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@qqueenofhadess
Once more dealing (for the SECOND TIME, IN TWO WEEKS) with a random blog deletion. Stand by.
So guess what!
Tumblr deleted my main blog, @qqueenofhades, again!
FOR NO REASON!
I’m already e-mailing support about it. I realize Timeless Season 4 is ongoing and administered through my main account, which I also can’t get to right now. I’ll post the episode here if I have to, but right now I’m about... two seconds from snapping. Because thanks guys. Wow.
@staff, @support, please look into this ASAP. Because after a similar incident with my blog being gone for a month last year, it was determined after review to have broken no TOS/content agreements, had been wrongfully terminated, and was restored. Please do this again. Thanks.
YES HELLO MY PRECIOUS MAIN HAS BEEN RESTORED I AM ALIVE AGAIN AT @qqueenofhades SO HIE YE BACK OVER THERE
I AM KEEPING THIS ONE FOR A BACKUP IN CASE GOD FORBID THIS HAPPENS AGAIN BUT YES IT’S BACK THIS IS THE GREATEST NIGHT OF MY LIFE
artielu replied to your post: garciaflynnismyspiritanimal: ...
Wait holy fuck you’re back???
Sort of....? I am still pestering @support to restore my main account, which was deleted with no communication or follow-up three-odd weeks ago. It is.... hmm. An exercise in developing saint-like qualities.
This is my backup account for now, which I am hoping is only temporary, because you know, I want six years of content and followers and work back. We will see. I tried tagging you in my signal boost post, but tumblr doesn’t appear to let new users do that OR show up in tags. Fun.
Bank lobbyists are scared to meet with AOC because she might humiliate them on Twitter later
A “lobbyist for a major bank” told Reuters that they’re afraid to meet with Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, who now sits on Congress’s Financial Services Committee, because “anything you do or say can be used against you” – the lobbyist likened meeting with AOC to “going in to talk to the FBI.”
Another lobbyist cited AOC’s use of Twitter to denounce the lobbyists who were invited to brief the incoming Congress at “orientation” sessions as an example of how letting the mask slip around Ocasio-Cortez would result in global social-media shaming for poor, defenseless lobbyists.
https://boingboing.net/2019/02/12/pity-the-poor-lobbyist.html
Good
Good
Good
“anything you do or say can be used against you”
so,,, like everybody else? or you think you’re somehow immune to repercussions bc of your money and political afflictions???
You ever just... yell about #garcy??
The presenter said he had "never seen so many white people in one place" about a pro-Brexit protest.
Today in: bigoted white people really hate it when you call them bigoted white people, film at 11.
PETITION TO BRING @qqueenofhades BACK
@staff @support
Her blog was unfairly and without warning deleted (as were many other blogs) and it’s been almost a month and she has yet to get her blog back despite her many emails and emails from friends on her behalf. So now we have a sort-of petition.
Please reblog this while @ing staff and support so that they will get a lot of notifications. Restore her tumblr. BRING BACK OUR QUEEN!
Note: Permission was given by qqueenofhades to do this, original idea came from this ask here. Be polite when you reblog, rudeness will get us nowhere. Thank you!
@staff @support Please give @qqueenofhades back her blog. It was not inappropriate. She was here for 6 years. She’s lovely. It just disappeared one day. Please.
@staff, @support, I can have my much loved and unfairly deleted blog back soon, please?
Head to Twitter to help get @qqueenofhades blog back
Taking to Twitter for missing blogs (like our friend @qqueenofhades, now @qqueenofhadess, and others)
Sooooo, how to help if you’d like …
1. Head on over to twitter and you can find me as @FlynnAnimal.
2. Tweet daily. New tweets are better than reposts.
3. Be nice. :)
4. Tag in your tweets: @ Tumblr, @ Tumblrsupport, @ Tumblrstaff, @ jeffdonof (CEO), and @ verizon (owners of Tumblr).
5. Hastags to use: # tumblrpurge, # savequeenofhades (use both)
6. Things to say: she was innocent. Her blog was not porn. (Tumblr is purging picture porn … well trying … unsuccessfully). Give her her blog back.
7. Best time to tweet is 3-7pm EST but any time is okay if you hashtag.
8. Spread the word.
@qqueenofhadess @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels @queenincrimson @kissedbydragonfire @kt-anansi @extasiswings
I’ve talked to some who have had their blogs deleted unfairly and they got them back. With persistence. Sigh. Help if you can. Thx.
#i love development
Views of the central nave of Hagia Sophia, Istanbul..
Gaspare Fossati & Giuseppe Fossati - Aya Sofia Constantinople, As recently restored by Order of H.M. the Sultan Abdul Medjid (1852).
Lithography by Louis Haghe.
You have 90 minutes to complete. (r.a.)
Would you consider writing an epilogue to your Garcy Ballet AU? For reasons. Sigh. Just love it so much. :)
Ahaha. 1) Thank you so much! 2) This ask provided the catalyst for me to polish up an epilogue that I had already mostly written, because I too enjoy this AU (thanks, @qqueenofhades/ @qqueenofhadess!) It’s absolutely tooth-rotting fluff, for which I make no apology.
That first year, he tells Emma.
“So,” she says, on the Monday morning, “first weekend done and dusted.”
“Yes.”
Emma’s eyes narrow. “What?”
Flynn sighs. In some ways, of course, it would be easier to postpone this until after the run, until after Amy has taken her last bows for this year. But there is always the chance that he and Lucy would be surprised in a look, a touch, a shared trip to the grocery store. The risks are too great.
“I have a confession to make,” he says.
Emma, without breaking eye contact, reaches into the top drawer of her desk, shakes two aspirin into her hand from the bottle she finds there, and downs them. “Go on.”
Keep reading
Grandma, It’s me. Anastasia!
Am I unreasonably emotional about the fact that Gabriel is alive, grown up, and living in Paris after all these Gabriel/Garcia brother feelings in TAW? Yes. Yes I am.
the alchemical wedding: chapter fourteen
Summary: Discovery of Witches AU. When Dr. Lucy Preston, historian and reluctant witch, stumbles on an enchanted alchemical manuscript, Ashmole 782, in Oxford University’s Bodleian Library, she crosses paths with the mysterious vampire Garcia Flynn. They must work together to discover its secrets, their conflicted family legacies, and the shadowy enemies who want to claim it. As they do, they are increasingly and unwillingly drawn to each other, but that may be the most dangerous and forbidden magic of all. Rating: M Status: WIP Previous: Reap The Whirlwind NOTE: Still would appreciate reblogs to boost visibility, as I am not sure I am allowed to show up in the tags yet (this website is truly the devil) and am continuing to try to help people to find me. So yes.
Chapter 14: In The Wastelands
Lucy has no idea how long they are in the air. All of her attention is devoted to not freezing to death, as the night wind scours her face like ice, numbs her extremities to blocks of wood, and squeezes tears out of her eyes until it starts to crystallize in her lashes, almost blinding her. Not as if there is much to see. She isn’t even sure what has hold of her, aside from some sort of monstrous, overgrown harpy, its claws still digging into her shoulders and almost drawing blood. She isn’t wearing much, her jaw is chattering like a nutcracker until she’s briefly afraid she’ll bite her tongue off, and she’s lost one shoe, her socked foot dangling limply in the slipstream, a mile above the rough dark ground. She desperately wants this to be over, but she’s more afraid of what might happen when it does.
Furiously, she tries to rally her magic. It was just spilling over, back in the bedroom with Flynn – it seems impossible that it can’t come to some kind of defense now. But if she struggles too hard, she’ll fall, and unlike whatever is carrying her, she doesn’t have wings. The time to figure out any new magical abilities she might be able to unlock is not when she is plunging to her death in the middle of nowhere. Which way are they going? At night, it’s impossible to tell, and she fights a sudden fear that they might head out over the Atlantic and drop her into the sea. But if it was a matter of just killing her, the harpy-thing could let go of her anywhere, and Lucy knows that she is far more valuable alive. She’s being taken somewhere, a prize of war, for whoever has craftily arranged to snatch her directly from Sept-Tours. The same person who sent Gennady Sokolov? Or worse?
Lucy tries to take deep breaths, to control the panic banging in her head, since completely losing it is not going to help her. Squinting through her streaming eyes, she tries to make out any recognizable feature on the landscape blurring by below. It still looks like France, and she doesn’t think they’ve flown far or fast enough to have crossed into a new country. Here and there, the isolated pinpricks of car headlights curve down a deserted motorway, or a few farmhouses are visible in the rolling green downs, but for the most part, they stay well clear of any populated centres. Lucy has turned to a human block of ice by the time they dip below a low-hanging cloud, and she spots a spectral ruined castle on the hilltop ahead, something straight out of a Gothic novel. She can’t be sure, but it reminds her of the fortified city of Carcassonne in the south of France, which she visited a few summers ago. Are they somewhere in the Languedoc? That would fit with the duration of flight, at least, but what –
No time to ponder. They’re decelerating fast, they’re close enough to the crumbling tower wall that Lucy thinks they’ll hit it and instinctively jerks her legs up, and hurtle down toward the remnants of the bailey, nothing more than a cleared space of dirt surrounded by broken stones. The moon flits eerily through the empty windows, the roofless hall, and the harpy negligently lets go of her, causing Lucy to tumble for the last several feet and do a somersault. It knocks her wind out, and she lies flattened, gasping vainly, as the harpy descends with unexpected dainty grace, shifts and transforms, and hits the ground in heeled boots as if it – as if she – has just strode off a catwalk somewhere. She regards the wheezing Lucy in cool, cruel amusement. “Evening, princess.”
Somehow, this comes as both a wrenching shock and no shock whatsoever, even as Lucy feels it lurch through her to the back of her spine. She remains where she is, staring balefully up at Emma Whitmore, who seems to be thoroughly enjoying the effect of her dramatic entrance, red hair tossed in the night wind and green eyes glittering triumphantly. “Surprised to see me?” she goes on. “You know, I didn’t underestimate you this time. You had a powerful accident, the last few times we crossed paths, but I know what I’m doing. That makes a difference.”
[read the rest on AO3]