#tqh

[captain-tiggy]

"...I do. But I can't. I'm sorry."

OITNB || 07x11 "God Bless America"

#oitnb #i do not condone infidelity at all whatsoever #but i do condone two women making out #in slow motion and a white flowing dress #orange is the new black #piper chapman #alicia witt #taylor schilling #wlwedit #cinemapix #tvandfilm #this is me cleaning out my drafts btw #i know you missed me #my gif to you #tqh

[chipsncookies]

They're so silly

#pokemon #evelyn #pokemas #i think this is not too shippy so I won't use the tqh #emmet #chips's work

[thequeendomhq]

Hi all!

We're getting close to opening! Our first round of acceptances will close tonight at 7pm EST, with acceptances being posted tomorrow.

We'll begin our regularly scheduled acceptances every Thursday at 7pm EST next week.

As a reminder, reserves only last between acceptances, so anything that has been reserved will be cleared after tonight.

#tqh: admin #skeleton rp #supernatural rp #new rp #fantasy rp #medieval rp

[alrikhart]

@fharzai location: dreamscape (iskaran mines) notes: all good things start with horrific trauma

Most nights, he was restless because he found himself here again, blurring the line between unconsciousness and the waking world. Sleep was something he wished to avoid but was physically necessary; sleeping draughts helped, lulled his weary mind into the dreamscape, and for a few uninterrupted hours, he'd toss and whisper pleas for help into the dark of the night above him.

In the dark, it was hard to discern what was him and what was the cold echo of cavernous walls. Hot. Cold. The Iskarans had dug into the mountains, deeper than anyone should have gone, instead knocking at the halls of the damned. Murder, arduous labor, a sunless life, and hunger were enough to drive anyone towards desperation. In the dreamful hours, Alrik forgot what was and what wasn't; the escape he'd imagined and played over a hundred times in his head had to be a fantasy. Nobody got out, at least not alive; this place made monsters of anyone, he'd felt in the gray matter that squeezed between his fingers. In the shards of a broken skull that was splattered across the cavernous floor.

Where was Alessia? She was here - she must have been here? Had that been her? He should know if his sister was dead. He would have known if he had killed her, but then where had she gone -? It was dark and cold. So dark. The air lingered on his skin like damp, clammy fingers stretched greedily across his flesh. A breath fell from his lips as the haunting whisper of cruelty rattled like a hiss at the back of his synapses, it told him what was to come, and what was inevitable: the Norns had tied his thread long ago, and it was here in the depths of Helheim that he'd wander eternally. Cold and lost, nameless and forgotten.

Overhead, the infernal pitch of the cavern cracked open, and light poured down from above. Bit by bit it broke apart as the warmth of the sun washed over the miner's frame, bringing with it a chorus that rose from something Alrik couldn't place. For so long, hope was an enemy because it brought with it nothing but despair; there was a peace that came to Sisyphus's acceptance of his fate; the last hope of treachery against the Gods was to consign oneself to the trials ahead. But there it was, the sun, the sky, and when the ceiling of the mineshaft broke away, he found himself on his feet. Washed in the warmth of the day he stood before a man with gray eyes, a stranger.

"Who are you?" Asking how hadn't crossed his mind. He had no awareness that this was a dream, no control over what was happening around him, and no ability to truly question the changes. Instead, his fanatical mind went to what he knew, to the Gods he'd learned so much about growing up. If this was Sol, Mani had to be nearby, driving their chariots across the sky. There were stories about falling into pacts with deities, but Alrik did not think of himself first, instead another's name fell from his lips. "Where's my sister? Where's Alessia?" At his side Alrik's hands had balled into fists, mediocre magic met the arms of a blacksmith's son, but God or no he would not be parted from her.

#w/fharzai #int. w/fharzai #int. w/fharzai.iskaldrik #int. w/fharzai.troupe1 #tqh troupe 1 #tqh troupe 1: nornwatch keep #int. w/fharzai.nornwatch #int. w/fharzai.dreamscape

[witchertorsten]

@afshinxeldar location: Nornwatch Keep notes: there's not much reason for me to use this gif, but here we are

Training was the simplest way for Torsten to keep his head clear. It was a lesson that had been ingrained in him long ago when he was in the Watch. It was difficult to question or overcomplicate a subject when the body was too weary to worry itself over it. The most pressing matters were the road ahead; old records spoke of a path that could be taken through the wastes, one that would see the troupe through the Lostlands and into Lysara. The blight, however, would be underfoot every step of the journey.

Last night, the High King had looked towards one of his guards, and he'd spoken his name clearly and audibly. The implication that this madness that had gripped him was quietly subsiding was little more than a baseless rumor. Still, when fear and hysteria had gripped even the most resolved of warriors - the return of a previously Mad King, in the Iskaran's greatest time of need, was a story that possessed a fervor that could quickly take hold. For now, Orhan's condition was a kept secret within the inner circle, but for the last three years, little birds had sung, and whispers made their way from the royal court, across Yggdrasildal, and perhaps even beyond.

"My prince," Torsten greeted as he set his training sword aside, letting it rest as he took notice of Afshin's lingering presence. Iskaldrik had fallen, their home was in flames behind them, and the future was wrapped in uncertainty. Torsten could guess what thoughts might be running through Afshin's head at present, but he would not.

#w/afshin #int. w/afshin #int. w/afshin.nornwatch #int. w/afshin.iskaldrik #int. w/afshin.troupe1 #tqh troupe 1: nornwatch keep

[servicereward]

mary, magus, and princess katharine went through all that bullshit. they should have been at the club.

#their own reckoning tqh but hoping on the meme #disney gargoyles #disney's gargoyles #mary gargoyles #magus gargoyles #*tbqh **hopping u-u really fat thumbing it today #princess katharine gargoyles

[princemordecai]

hc + 💌 for a romance-themed headcanon

Meme Monday

Flavius Falx

Leander had no mind for The Great Game; as an Accepted at the Tower of Olympia, his time was better spent with his fellows, but he wasn't without his desires for entertainment. The fellowships he'd accrued among the other Olympians brought him to The Harmonium original piece, Homeo and Ruliet. Leander had grown up in Eterna, this wasn't the first time he'd attended one of the productions, but it would be one of the more memorable. It had started with idle captivation; the lead actor, Homeo, was handsome and compelling - stripped of the antiquated costuming and the stage paint, he was even more so. Flavius was the actor's name, a bard from a prominent shipping family who played the Game to better move the tides.

It had started as an idle interest and fascination, nights of Leander sneaking into the Harmonium or dressing Flavius in the white robes of an initiate to sneak him into his own chambers. They were young, and neither of them ever really called it what it was, but the truth was the two of them were in love. Summer nights on the deck of one of the Queen's royal vessels; ships that Leander would never inherit but idly fantasized about sailing away on someday. He and the merchant together.

First love but not one that was fated to last; inevitably, their interests pulled them in separate directions. Where Flavius played the Game, Leander's responsibilities inevitably led him away from the tower. Still in the age of Accepted, the two parted ways for the last time but remained in contact. Exchanging letters or meeting up at the Comedy Keep to reminisce about old times.

#musing. #tqh: meme monday

[sociedadnoticias]

Denuncian violencia laboral, abusos y falta de pagos en "Ruido en la Red"

Denuncian violencia laboral, abusos y falta de pagos en "Ruido en la Red" #PeriodismoParaTi #SociedadNoticias #RuidoEnLaRed #TenemosQueHablar #HagamosRuido #MediosdeComunicación #Publicidad #Cdmx @lopezobrador_ @GobiernoMX

Trabajadores exigen justicia y cumplimiento de sus derechos profesionales, laborales y humanos. Ruida en la Red ha recibido más de 2.8 millones de pesos sólo del gobierno de la Cdmx. Por Verónica Estrada | Reportero                                     La empresa mediática “Ruido en la Red“, bajo la dirección de Ruth Muñiz, ha sido señalada por ejercer violencia laboral, económica y psicológica…

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#HagamosRuido #TenemosQueHablar #Asamblea de Trabajadores de Medios y la Comunicación Contra la Precarización Laboral “Tenemos Que Hablar” (TQH) #Denuncian violencia laboral y abusos en "Ruido en la Red" #medios de comunicación #Procuraduría Federal de la Defensa del Trabajo (Profedet) #Ruido en la Red #Ruido en la Red SA de CV #Ruth Muñiz #Secretaría del Trabajo y Previsión Social (STPS) #SN #Sociedad #Sociedad Noticias #Sociedad-Noticias.com #sociedadNoticias #SociedadNoticias.com

[halfbit]

i fell asleep for 30 minutes and had an intense nightmare about tumlllr, life is good and normal

i am attempting sleep agaain, have hopefully distarcted anough now that nightmare wont continue

#bip.txt #tw nightmare #nightmare #yodnits so hardntonsoell tqhs when im bwr lunw kqr

[goddess-of-the-hearth-and-home]

axa qbthwthbqrhbr1ubqthbbttqbtbh hqt tqhh tqtq ht tqh thqqrbqrh qrh qth qtbhqtjn4qbrhqrbbheveyveybqrbyrqbrbbrhrubqrybb4yh4y4y4yhbryrqb4ybrybrybqrhbrybryqbrĝzye6jajrJtahajnNyrnyanrnarujfuarnunatnatmaturuafjnarumarumatumtauafnhmhhhrmhrnh a afmarafmrhmrhmrhmrumrjmmrurmuurnrnnrunrunururnrunrrnuruarnhrhnryrunnyerynyrrnuuramurjfhrhrh4hetneyakh5u37531375173163iq64i6arhraumarumatumatimatimarunatjmatj.atjmatjmatjmatjmatjmatjmatjmqtjmqrumatumatumqrumatuatukRueyjRykRukRuMeymMrurukkrurjykryyrjrkrykrukrkyrukrykRulRuley4arylarultulatulatularukrykrukeumeykaeykrulgs rqq5untqnutqrunuthrbeq rbqqurrbyqr qrh qrh qtj qt qtarynarujyja4uk47k47krukarjarnrynaryarnharunraynatum4yjrumraumarunatumrjuarum4jarumruma

are you dying, anon?

[elezdi]

Ne razbiram zashto nqkoi hora sa se wzeli za nezamenimi i si mislqt, che ne moga bez tqh v jivota si

Puchi, 20 godini sym jivqla bez teb, sega li nqma 🥴

[captain-tiggy]

"Really?" "Really." "You mean tonight...?" "Is definitely the night." Grey's Anatomy || 9x18 "Idle Hands"

#greys anatomy #calzona #arizona robbins #callie torres #i have no idea where i was going with this set #so forgive me if it doesn't make sense #again just cleaning out my drafts #new year new me #cinemapix #my gif to you #tqh

[vulgaren]

Naistina li ne te drazni che priqtelkata ti si kachva razgoleni snimki i majete laskat na tqh?

I don't mind it as long as she's using only my dick for her pleasure. Не съм някакъв задръстен комплексар, както отговорих и наскоро. Радвам се, че жената до мен има самочувствието да се показва и дори я подкрепям.

#vulgaren #bg #bg post #bg tumblr #bulgaria #бг пост #бг блог #бг мисли #бг текст #на нелката

[thequeendomhq]

Hi all!

All our skeletons have officially been posted, and we are juuust over 24 hours away from accepting reserves!

For our first round of acceptances, we'll be taking reserves on skeletons starting April 5th at 7 p.m. EST!

When sending in a reserve, please include the following:

Skeleton Name

Preferred Faceclaim (if there are duplicates, then the first person to submit gets the reserve)

OOC Alias

Players may reserve 1 skeleton per alias (so if your friend is working, feel free to reserve for them).

Reserved skeletons CAN only be applied for by the person who reserved them and are first come, first serve. After our first acceptance, we'll go with the traditional competitive route. This is just so anyone out there who's interested doesn't have to worry about their app being compared to someone else's. Any reserved skeletons that do not receive an application by the first acceptance will be reopened.

For the first round of acceptances, once a skeleton has been applied for, we won't be accepting a reserve for it.

If you haven't yet, check out our Skeleton Page and Playable Species here. The admins will be around all night to answer any questions.

#skeleton rp #supernatural rp #medieval rp #fantasy rp #lsrp #new rp #tqh: admin

[alrikhart]

@alessiathepath location: Nornwatch Keep notes: family bonding

There was an adage about surviving the war and living through everything that would come after, but the two had yet to survive this. They would because, of course, they would, but there had been a moment when the mages had descended upon Yggdrasildal, when the fighting had started, and the explosions had gone off that Alrik wondered if this was where their thread ended. He'd never worried that Alessia hadn't made it; if his sister was dead, Alrik would have known.

Stories had power, and Iskarans were fond of their oral traditions; in the years to come, depending on how things unfolded, the Aetherians would be viewed as either bloodthirsty conquerors or liberators who'd broken the chains of countless witches and other supernatural creatures. The truth was that neither of these things felt entirely honest; conquerors may be indiscriminate killers, but for every soul they liberated, there had to be another four that were clapped in irons.

They had survived; they always did; now, here they were at some frost-ridden keep that reeked of death and blight, sitting at the edge of the world, waiting for their liberators to come set what remained of their world on fire. Alrik could focus on the positive; being alive was something to look forward to, but no one told them anything - where they were going, what they would do from here. They'd walked for weeks through the dark just to find a ruin of criminals and legionnaires who thought they would make a difference here.

"What do you think this is anyway?" The legion called it mead, but Alrik wasn't entirely convinced the deadmen hadn't pissed in a barrel and passed it around to the refugees. Alrik looked about the crowded space, women weeping as they held their children, grown men who hadn't seen the sun in weeks staring idly through the broken rafters towards the clouded sky above. Misery and shock.

#w/alessia #int. w/alessia #int. w/alessia.nornwatch #int. w/alessia.iskaldrik #tqh troupe 1: nornwatch keep #int. w/alessia.troupe1 #tqh troupe 1

[witchertorsten]

@freydis-freydat location: Hrimthur's Wastes, West of Nornwatch notes: search & rescue starter

Tracking runaways, strays, and prisoners was among the witcher's skills, it was ingrained in their training to be able to navigate harsh terrain while picking up on the subtle clues that a person, or monster, might leave behind. The headiness of the air was something that Torsten had become accustomed to, the frigid acclimation to his crystalline breaths left an acrid, blighted taste on the tarmac of his tongue that he'd connected to the presence of darkspawn. Children had wandered far from the walls and had yet to return, the worst could be assumed but neither Torsten nor the Jarl seemed satisfied until they saw it with their own eyes.

Stone crunched beneath his boots as they marched side by side through the sparse, dead winter trees that seemed as old as the rock below the ice beneath them. Rot had lived in the Wastes for thousands of years, coiled itself into the flora, and ingratiated itself into the fauna as rodents the size of his forearm scurried about in the dead of night.

"Children of the midlands are resourceful and strong." Resolve etched the stoic's tongue in typical candor as he spoke in stark, blunted truths. It would never be his intention to coddle anyone, least of all a jarl or shieldmaiden, but instead, some reassurance her people would not go quietly - and this too was something that they would all survive.

#w/freydis #int.w/freydis #int.w/freydis.nornwatch #int.w/freydis.iskaldrik #tqh troupe 1: nornwatch keep #tqh troupe 1