#happy loss day

[burgerlabs]

plot of half life 3 just dropped

[alexa-crowe]

BRIDGERTON 1.02 | "Shock and Delight"

[daydark4k]

did you make sure you were alone?

[this-is-a-name-dont-worry]

"Wait is that lore?" moments in Antoine's return stream

These ones are likely jokes, but (you can use it in your headcanons):

With Tubbo, explaining his absence by saying "I was dead, I think, but not anymore, I was tired of being dead"

"I couldn't explain to you, it's out of my understanding how I'm dressed. The human mind cannot comprehend how I'm dressed and so the human brain shows it that way, but it isn't exactly like that. It's not powerful, it's just weird"

"You know me well!" "Heh, I know you as if I made you!" *silence* (closest to maybe serious)

These ones are more serious:

He isn't romantically interested by Cucurucho, he just likes his ass (that totally a human is aro that's what I mean)

He really missed Pomme, he stopped coming because without her it wasn't interesting anymore (this one is just cute)

Very invested in knowing what happened to the eggs while they were away

Accidentally gave Pomme one of the books Ourson (I think it's this one?) gave him, immediately panicking when he realized. When Pomme asks what it was, he first tries to pretend not to understand, and is pretty serious when he tells her that it's nothing; he'll tell her about it one day, and it's his little secret garden, everyone should be allowed to have secrets, don't she think? she isn't against secrets, right?

Certain that the eggs went to some kind of other dimensions/got doubles?? I mean there was a theory inspired by Stranger Things but despite what Pomme is saying he's not letting go of the idea

After asking Pomme if she met dark Cucurucho and she talks about the Watcher: "Je crois pas qu'on parle de la même chose. Là tu me parles de l'oeil, et moi je pense que je te parle de quelque chose d'autre. Je pense que tu me parles du Watcher... là où moi je te parle d'autre chose." ("I think we're not talking about the same thing. Here you're talking about the eye, and me I think I'm talking about something else. I think you're talking about the Watcher... when me I talk about something else" again how does he know the name "Watcher".)

Knows that Maximus is dead, when all the other players seem to have decided to play the "don't know if he's alive or dead" card (bonus: Antoine and Pomme talking about telling Aypierre, and Pomme thinking she won't be able to find the right words "I don't think there are right words..." ok im sad now thanks). Since we're at it, when reading Pomme diary where she worries about Baghera and Antoine being dead, saying they can't be dead, he doesn't share that worry in the slightest, as if he knows Baghera's not dead (this one's dubious and I am very willing to put it as cc!Antoine not thinking rp)

He and Pomme are talking about what she remembers of the Watcher and honestly the whole conversation deserves to be clipped and transcribed. To go with him name dropping the Watcher, he is now only calling it the creature with one eye because that's how Pomme calls it

Pomme explains that the Watcher was observing her and Richas and there was a threatening aura to it, so they immediately fled. Antoine in a very serious voice "You were right to, you were right to, you were right to. Because I think it's this person who was at the origin of your disappearance."

[euxellis]

Let me tell you a story about love: She had a soft voice and strong hands. When she sang she would seem too large for the room and she would play guitar and sing, which would make his chest feel huge. Sometimes he would touch her knee and smile. Sometimes she would touch his face and close her eyes. — War of the Foxes, Richard Siken

Apotheosis, Episode 2 // Today Means Amen, Sierra DeMulder // Apotheosis, Episode 11 // Forgetting, Joy Ladin // Paper Towns, John Green // Apotheosis, Episode 7 // Apotheosis, Episode 11 // The Retribution of Mara Dyer, Michelle Hodkin // Apotheosis, Episode 3 // coffin heart? bury me, Fatima Bilal // Apotheosis, Episode 12 // coffin heart? bury me, Fatima Bilal // Unknown // Apotheosis, Episode 13 Part 2 // unknown // Apotheosis, Finale

[adrift-in-thyme]

Febuwhump Day 14: Blood-Stained Tiles (Legend/Fable)

Ao3

Note: Two quick things! First, this will be my last Febuwhump fic. I’m overwhelmed with life rn and am not in the right headspace to continue this challenge. However, I have extra fics and ideas left over from it that I’m planning to write up later on. So keep an eye out ;)

Second, thanks for @ladye-zelda and @skyward-floored for the idea to do a zelink fic and specially Ladye for suggesting that I write something for flying tiles (and for reminding me that today is Valentines XD). And now onto your regularly scheduled fic

CW for blood and injury, torture, and loss of a finger

————————-

Fable walks forward with steadfast determination. Anger burns in her veins, strengthening the magic that twirls gracefully about her fingertips. Her boots clack proudly across the tiled floor, announcing her presence without fear.

Let them know she’s here. Let them come. She is more than ready to face whatever horrors see fit to leap from the darkness.

More than ready to do whatever is necessary to find Link.

It has only been a short time since she entered the dungeon with him and the hero who calls himself Twilight. Her informants had claimed a group of thieves were making their base there. And as her and Legend had both agreed that no run-of-the-mill thief would hide out in this abandoned maze of deadly rooms, they had decided having some backup wouldn’t hurt.

…or she had stated that some backup wouldn’t hurt. Link had seemed strangely perturbed to have the rancher accompanying them.

“We’d be fine just the two of us, you know,” he had mumbled after Twilight cheerily agreed to her polite request. “It’s not like we haven’t done this before.”

But in the end he had acquiesced her wishes, even if it was with a slight — and rather adorable — pout.

Even having some aid, however, hadn’t been enough. The thieves that they had dealt with in the past were not quite the same caliber as the ones cloaked here. That much had become painfully clear when Link had led them into a room full of his most abhorred adversaries.

Flying floor tiles.

And, well, they had certainly flown. First at him, striking his shield despite Fable’s efforts to direct them elsewhere. And then, suddenly, without any rhyme or reason they had begun to drop.

Link had plummeted with a shout that was quickly silenced when his head connected sharply with another tile.

Try as she might, Fable has not been able to rid herself of the sight of his blood, sharp against the glowing white.

She shakes her head in another attempt now, as Twilight fits the last key into the large door. The door that leads to the place where bosses lurk, eager to devour their prey.

“Well, we certainly got here fast,” the rancher comments. The lock falls away, clattering to the floor. “Either these guys aren’t as thorough as we thought or…”

Fable drags in a shallow inhale. “Or they wanted us to come to them.”

The latter theory would certainly explain why when she and Twilight rushed out onto the tiles to try and save their friend, neither had fallen. The tiles had gone back to their usual state — bothersome and painful on contact, but not at all like the cracked ones designed to plunge you into the depths.

Something is going on here, and Fable has little enthusiasm for it.

The door is gliding up now, however, allowing them to step into gloom. And she has no choice but to square her shoulders and walk through.

There’s no backing down now, no matter what awaits her inside this cursed room. Not that that had ever been a choice in the first place.

Though, when the door slams shut behind her and Twilight and a collection of lanterns flicker on, she almost wishes that it was.

Rather than the gargantuan enemies Link had described to her, in the middle of the room a group of men and women stand. Some glare at her as she advances, the rancher close at her side. Others sneer. But their expressions have no effect on her.

The person kneeling amongst them, however, is a different story.

Fable gasps before she can stop herself.

“Oh, Link.”

Violet eyes meet hers, their usual sharpness dulled, pupils mismatched. A trail of blood streams down a small, angular face, stark against pale skin and blonde hair. A once pristine tunic is now dusty and torn.

They have bound him, both hand and foot, and fitted a gag between his pale lips. But he struggles against them anyway.

That fire of his hasn’t gone out, not yet. It won’t ever, if Fable has anything to do with it.

“Release him.” Her voice shatters the leering silence, the force of it belying the fear within. “Now.”

The cackles that meet her order are neither shocking nor welcome.

“Afraid we can’t do that,” one of the thieves says. He grins, showcasing a mouth of crooked teeth — some of which are missing.

(Fable would very much like to knock out a few more.)

“The Princess’ favorite little hero is too precious a treasure to just toss out.”

Another thief smirks. Something glints in his hand. Fable can feel Twilight grow even more tense.

“But that doesn’t mean we can’t rough him up a bit.”

“Lay one finger on him and you’ll regret it,” Fable snaps, stepping forward. But the knife zips toward Link’s exposed neck and instantly, she goes still.

Twilight’s hand had rushed to clutch his sword. It falls now, back to lie at his side, balled into a fist.

“Try anything,” the grinning man hisses, “and he’s dead.”

Fury is boiling within her now, a surging mass of molten lava about to bubble over. Fable grits her teeth so fiercely she fears they will break.

“What do you want?”

“Simple.” That cursed smile grows wider. The knife presses closer. “We want free reign to do what we want. Without any royals or heroes intervening.”

Fable’s fingernails slice into the palm of her hand. Her magic calls out from within, begging to be set free.

“I cannot allow that.”

It is quiet for a beat. Then, the thief nods to one of his cohorts situated just behind Link.

“Well, ain’t that a pity.”

Everything happens so fast, Fable hardly realizes it. There is another glint of silver, the sound of ropes being split apart. Link’s hand is dragged forward, fingers splayed on the ground. His eyes widen as he tries vainly to break free.

The world slows for the slightest of seconds. The weapon comes down. Blood spurts.

Link’s scream is muffled. But it is sharp nonetheless, hitched at the end like a restrained sob.

Fable doesn’t doubt that it will remain in her mind forever.

“Every time you refuse,” the thief growls as she presses a hand to her mouth, fighting against the furious tears that press at the edges of her eyes. “We take off another digit. He won’t be much use to you without fingers, now will he?”

A low growl rumbles from Twilight. Anger radiates off of him. Fable swallows her own down.

They will have to strike and soon. She only needs to find a way to do so…

“Your Majesty.” The title is mocking and accompanied by a sweeping bow. “What is your decision? Will you grant us what we want or do you still need convincing?”

“Further convincing will not be necessary,” Fable grits out. Her gaze meets Link’s for a split second before she drags it back to his captors. “Set him free, and I will grant you what you desire.”

Twilight whirls, fury and fear dancing in his blue-gray irises.

“You’re just gonna give them what they want? With all due respect, Princess, they should be imprisoned for this, not given free reign!”

Crooked teeth glint in the dying light of weak lanterns.

“Seems someone still needs some convincing, after all.”

The knife shoots upward. Link’s face grows impossibly paler as he awaits its fall.

“No!” Twilight shouts, hand outstretched, panic in his voice. His body is taut, like a bowstring about to loose an arrow. “Don’t hurt him again!”

Fable steps forward and places a hand on Twilight’s shoulder. She can only hope some small reassurance is communicated through the movement. She certainly feels no reassurance herself at the moment.

“Return my knight to me, now. After we have healed him, we can discuss the terms of our…agreement.” She spits the word like the vile thing that it is. A deception dressed up in niceties.

The thief is silent for a moment, thinking. Then, he nods.

“Fine, then. But know if you don’t grant our demands, you’re never getting out of here. We’ve meddled with the magic just for that purpose.”

Self-satisfied chuckles drift throughout the group. Fable smirks, bitterly.

“Very well.”

Twilight glances at her and she meets his fiery gaze.

“Get ready,” she mouths, and his eyes grow large. Just as quickly, they narrow, determination in them. Ever so slightly, he inclines his head.

The thieves bind Link’s wrists again, ignoring his strangled whine as the ropes graze his injured hand. Then, they drag him over, a trail of dark blood weaving in their wake, and cast him at Fable’s feet.

In an instant, she is on her knees. With trembling fingers she undoes his restraints and frees him of the gag. He breathes a shaky sigh of relief as she hurls it away.

“I’m so sorry, Link,” she whispers.

Link offers her what she supposes is meant to be a reassuring grin. It is a flimsy attempt, however, with the blood draining from his hand and running down his forehead, the pallor of his face.

“Not your fault.”

Fable gives his uninjured hand a gentle squeeze. Then, she rises and squares her shoulders.

Magic zips through her veins and streaks outward, roaring about the space. It seeks the places where the spells have been rearranged and warped. The job is sloppily done — never would it have kept two experienced mages and a hero within its bounds — and easily fixed. In an instant, Fable feels the dungeon give a sigh of relief.

The pressure hanging in the dismal air drifts away.

The thieves don’t seem to notice the shift. But Twilight does. A grin lifts his lips, feral and sharp.

He and Fable exchange a glance, before she turns back to their opponents, head held high.

“We cannot grant you what you wish. But we will certainly give you what you deserve.”

Twilight leaps forward and draws his sword in one, smooth movement. Fable sends strands of magic zipping along in his wake. One by one, the thieves crumple, hardly knowing whether their fall was by weapon or sorcery.

They try to fight. Shouting curses and obscenities, they lunge. But their daggers and clubs are little match for the hero and princess. Even their sheer number cannot save them from the onslaught of magic and fierce fight.

And finally, there is but a single opponent remaining. The cursed one with the sadistic grin.

He is grinning no longer. His lips are pulled back in a snarl, eyes glinting as Twilight approaches.

Beside Fable, Link rises shakily, wavering on unsteady legs. It is only her quick hand that keeps him from falling.

“You,” the thief growls, even as the tip of Twilight’s sword presses toward his throat. Even as his companions lie scattered and limp. “You fools think you’ve outwitted us? Oh, you’ve got no idea the power we hold. We’ll bring you down. We’ll bring you all down!”

Scooping up a dagger fallen nearby, he lurches forward, aiming for Link.

Twilight and Fable are fast, but somehow Link is faster. Tightening his grip on Fable’s hand, he brings a booted foot up sharply. It connects with the thief’s chin. His head snaps back and he crumples.

Twilight turns, a slight smirk on his lips. “Nice one, vet.”

Link grins, even as he lists sideways, leaning against Fable’s shoulder. “Creeps can’t take one of my fingers without me getting at least one hit in.”

Fable winces as her gaze travels to the appendage still lying on the bloodied ground.

“I’m not the most knowledgeable on healing magic, but I believe I know enough to reattach it at least.”

“Our traveler can take care of the rest,” Twilight puts in.

“Well, that’s good news,” Link grits out, as the rancher helps him into a seated position. “I don’t have enough room for all my rings as it is.”

Fable’s lips quirk upward just slightly. Gently, she takes Link’s hand in both of her own.

“This may sting a bit,” she says, apologetically.

Link shrugs.

The spell she weaves is a simple one, though one she can easily compound upon, strengthen into something fit to remedy such a severe wound. The glow of it wisps outward from between their clasped fingers in soft clouds of purple.

Carefully, Twilight places the finger back into its rightful place. Link’s eyes flit to the side as Fable’s spell sews torn flesh together and melds broken bone. His pallor takes on a slight green hue.

“It will still be painful,” Fable tells him, when it is finished at last, “but that should hold until we can return to the castle.”

“The sooner, the better,” Twilight says, glaring into the shadows. “We never know what else could be waiting for us here.”

“I agree.”

Fable rises and Link with her. His trembling grip on her hand remains tight. A rush of relief speeds through her at the feel of it.

To think she had come so close to losing him again. Just as she had lost him on the furious seas, tossed about and driven to unknown shores. Far from home. Far from her. Lost in a dream too murky, too thick for her to reach him through.

The tears she has been restraining fight for freedom. Viciously, she shoves them back once more.

Walk forward, she tells herself. Escape this place and get your friends to safety. Then, you may feel the emotions within you. Then, you may break.

“Hey, Zelda?” Link’s voice is uncharacteristically subdued and lacks its usual sarcastic bite. She turns just in time to see him self-consciously rub the back of his neck.

“Thanks for coming for me. And for, you know,” — he huffs a humorless chuckle “— giving me back my finger.”

Fable smiles and it feels good to be able to do so again.

“Of course,” she murmurs, daring to press a quick kiss to his cheek. “I’ll always come for you. You know that.”

His cheeks flush a vibrant shade of fuchsia and he stumbles, tripping over his own feet.

Up ahead, Twilight chuckles. “No thanks for me, vet? I’m hurt.”

“Yeah, well, face it, rancher,” Link retorts, obviously still struggling to regain a more normal complexion, “you aren’t a beautiful princess.”

Twilight barks out a snort of laughter, and Fable feels her own face grow hot. Link’s words seem to hit him in the next moment, because suddenly he looks as though he wishes the ground would swallow him whole.

“Sweet Hylia,” he groans, “this is why I didn’t want you to come along!”

Twilight only laughs. And as they walk toward sunshine and safety, Link’s embarrassed spluttering follows them all the way.

[krispycreamsicle]

Qi Yan | 经渭无间 Concept Trailer

[dayurno]

my advice for anyone whos growing more and more frustrated with the state of aftg and fandom at large is that arguing is fun but you need to be happy. ok. you need to. its hard when bad faith takes are dropped to your doorstep but you need to be happy and enjoy yourself and have fun or there's no point in anything at all ever. ok. fandom is not real and nothing is worth more than your enjoyment. i love you please make sure to have fun and reach out to a friend today. for me

[wangxianficrecs]

💙 Return to Sender by Thesaurus_with_no_words

💙 Return to Sender

by Thesaurus_with_no_words

M, WIP, 72k, Wangxian

Summary: On yet another gray and eerie morning in the Burial Mounds, Wei Wuxian wakes up with his golden core back. It turns out he lost something else in the process. (Aka: Wei Wuxian's feelings towards certain people get erased. It changes things. Is it a curse, or a blessing in disguise? And can Wei Wuxian trust himself, his choices and his priorities, after losing a defining part of who he is?) Kay's comments: You know how some people in MDZS are really lucky that Wei Wuxian likes them? Yeah, so this story erases his memories of how he feels about people and gives him back his golden core during the Burial Mounds arc. It's because Jiang Cheng got himself cursed, because he insulted a deity and Wei Wuxian and said that he owed nothing to Wei Wuxian, so the deity decided to take all things that Wei Wuxian gave him: his golden core, his loyalty, his love and even the sword forms he had taught to the disciples. It's really fascinating to see how it all affects things and I love how this story portrays Wei Wuxian's relationship with the Wen remnants and the Wen siblings in particular. Excerpt: When he has finally worked some moisture back into his dry mouth, he asks, voice faint, "Who did I give it to?" The question earns him a long, assessing look. It makes his skin prickle. Finally, Wen Qing sinks down on the stool across from him, shoulders slumping as she drags a hand over her face. She sits quietly for a moment, elbow supported on her knee and forehead resting against her palm. Her expression is further hidden by the shadows of her hair. "You do not remember Jiang Wanyin." It's a statement, not a question. Wei Wuxian can't read what her tone of voice means, so he ignores it, focusing instead on turning the name over in his mind. He tilts his head and mouths it carefully, tasting the syllables. "Jiang Wanyin," He echoes, eyes narrowing thoughtfully, like he’s inspecting a freshly picked river stone for sharp edges. "Jiang… Cheng? Ah, I think I had a shidi by that name?" A thin thread starts unspooling, leading him fumbling towards faded recollections, like an old mirror splintered into shards. Lotus flowers. A bustling market town. The glint of fish scales as they turn in the water surface. Sunburns on his shoulders and nose. Kites hanging high on a summer bright blue sky. Wei Wuxian licks his lips, tasting phantom spice. "Yea, he was my shidi, back when I was still a part of the Yunmeng-Jiang sect." Wen Qing’s head snaps up, dark eyes searching his, "What else?" After pondering for a moment, Wei Wuxian can only say, "He was the sect leader's son. Quite the hothead. Later he became the new, and current, sect leader." "You remember that, but not your relationship?" Wen Qing probes.

pov wei wuxian, canon divergence, golden core transfer fix-it, kinda, bamf wei wuxian, lan wangji/wei wuxian get a happy ending, somebody lives/not everybody dies, burial mounds settlement days, not jiang cheng friendly, temporary amnesia, partial memory loss, literal emotional manipulation, unrealiable narrator, slow burn

~*~

(Please REBLOG as a signal boost for this hard-working author if you like – or think others might like – this story.)

[forestofsprites]

in such a kiss everyone on the lips and cradle them gently sort of a mood

[sendmeartgifs]

Happy valentines and late Chinese new year!! Celebrating with some qijing dragons

[kindan-no-kanojo]

🦇 𝕯𝖎𝖆𝖙𝖔𝖇𝖊𝖗 2023 🦇

Day 12: Mother/Father || Masterlist || Prompts by @fruit-of-infidelity

«We will be here when you come back...!»

Scarlett's parents had an actually happy loving relationship 💗 until.

«. . .»

«...as I thought...

I can't go on without you...»

[meeko-mar]

Katsuki gets revived and saves Izuku and they finish the war together, but they are both heavily wounded and lose consciousness together soon after victory.

This time somehow Izuku wakes up before Katsuki, and he can't find Katsuki. So the anxiety drives him out of his bed this time and he trudges agonizingly and single-mindedly through the hospital to find Katsuki.

He finds him down the hall. His arm still in cast, his face mostly healed but wrapped under bandages, chest bandaged so heavily, but rising and falling with healthy breaths. The machine beeps with his heart, thank god, Izuku exhales a breath he'd been holding in for too long.

He doesn't even care that there's only one bed when he gets to the right room. He pulls an extra blanket off a nearby chair, wraps it around himself and carefully pulls himself into the space between Katsuki and the edge of the bed.

Katsuki responds to his warmth and turns his head towards him but doesn't wake.

"...Izuku..." he talks in his sleep, his soul just KNOWING whose presence was with him.

"I won't leave. Not again. Not ever." Izuku murmurs into Katsuki's shoulder. Silent tears stream down his cheeks.

Eventually Katsuki warms and returns the embrace, as if Izuku was a precious plushie he needed in order to sleep.

They are found this way by Aizawa, who makes it explicitly clear to staff that the two are not to be separated during their recovery. He smiles down at his House Arrest Boys and flicks off the overhead lights.

[taylorrepdetective]

Since you like to say you’re always right, tell us what is next. You say you don’t make predictions, but you actually do, even if you don’t call them that.

Ok so I’m absolutely not always right. There have been some really big things I’ve been wrong about and a lot of small things too. And what I learned from that is to keep an open mind, and when I’m wrong about something, to figure out why I got it wrong and shift my world view in some ways to try to understand and guess better the next time. But it’s not even really about being able to guess. It’s about understanding when things happen. It is fun to be right on a guess though, when that happens.

The biggest thing I’ve learned, and luckily I learned it pretty early on in my time in this space, is that trying to figure out the timing something big will happen is absolutely a fools errand. And another thing to avoid is trying to come up with the exact, specific way Taylor (or others in her cinematic universe) will do something to get a point across. Like I can predict she will try to get a point across (set up a timeline, create a narrative, shore up a brand point) but I cannot predict exactly how or when she’ll do it. I also can predict she’ll set something up but then she never does. That’s because I think of lots of options. Some happen, some don’t. So this is the kind of thing I’m often wrong about. But I see them and always try to present them as options, not predictions. And if one of the options I think of happens, I have already spent time thinking about it, so it already makes sense to me.

I don’t know what’s next. She could drop TS11 at midnight. She could break up with Travis tomorrow, or announce her engagement next week. But I do not think any of those things is likely.

So here’s the closest thing you’ll ever get to me making a specific, timed prediction, because to me it seems quite clear:

What I do think is likely is that her jet will go to KC, ✅she’ll go to the game on Sunday✅, and her jet will then leave KC sometime between next Tuesday✅ and next Thursday. Why? Because it’s a home game, and she likes to go to home games and get the exposure and publicity that comes with that. She is working really hard at becoming an icon in KC, seem like her relationship is very serious for those who want to believe it’s serious, and she wants to shore up that relationship by spending time with him, his family, and his friends (also KC icons - the Mahomes mostly.)✅ All of this is so important to the story she’s creating. However, she won’t stay long ✅because that’s been her pattern. She also seems to be establishing that she also has her own busy, fabulous life✅ (she’s bejeweled and he lets her be✅) and when he’s busy with his football week (generally Tuesday-Sunday) he doesn’t have much time for her and she has her own life.✅This gives her the opposite option of the relationship being very serious. In other words it gives her an easy out for it to end. And Wednesday is her birthday. So she’ll either stay till Tuesday ✅and we’ll see or hear about birthday celebrations Sunday night/Monday, ✅then she’ll head out for further birthday celebrations with her other friends and family✅, or her jet will stay through her birthday, solidifying the seriousness of the relationship. But she will leave KC.✅ And then she’ll probably go to the game on Dec 17 in Boston✅. Why? Because it is a short hop from NYC, she has a huge fanbase there✅ and can expand it and shore it up, the patriots are bad so a win is likely✅, but they are a very popular team, so viewership (publicity) will be high✅. After that? Well she’s likely to spend more time in NYC✅/Nashville. Then she will probably go to the Christmas Day game in KC✅. This is a huge opportunity to “take the relationship to the next level” by spending the holidays together ✅, something the public absolutely loves to see and will further fuel the “engaged by the end of the year, after the Super Bowl at the latest” fire. Hopefully we’ll get something reputation-related for new years❌, so the extra publicity will help with that. Additionally all of this corresponds with the Eras film being released to streaming, another huge money making opportunity for her, and her attendance is an ad for the film.

After the new year, there will be some huge games with high viewership. They will be playing for playoff seeding. Then they almost assuredly will be in the playoffs✅. She will go to those games✅, which have even higher viewership, and will give her more free marketing for reputation and eras movie and anything else we don’t know about. After that, it will depend on how deep they go into the playoffs. They are no longer favored to be in the Super Bowl, but it is still a strong possibility✅. We all now know she can fly across the world after a concert to attend an event (she flew to the US during her time in SA, planned to a second time but couldn’t because of the events in Rio, and flew to London for 24 hrs for bey). The precedent has been set for her to fly from Tokyo to Las Vegas for the Super Bowl. ✅There is no bigger stage than the Super Bowl (outside of the World Cup final, if you’re thinking internationally.) The free marketing potential there is something that would be very hard for her to pass up. And if Travis isn’t playing, Jason’s team might be, and they can go together to support him. Imagine the potential of travlor in a suite together with mama and papa kelce cheering on a retiring Jason❌✅ . And even if neither of them are in the game, they could still all go together and stand in a suite as a big happy family in front of an audience of 115 million Americans. Why wouldn’t she do this?✅

Will all that happen for sure? Of course not. But you can see the logic, right? Will there be other things that happen that I haven’t thought of? Most likely.✅ I don’t actually have a crystal ball. What kinds of things could derail this? Well there’s always the possibility of the black swan, but a more likely scenario is they lose again against a team they should beat✅ and/or Travis has another bad game✅. There is a real danger of people turning on her as a distraction ✅and I think they have their fingers on the pulse of this very closely. As long as KC keeps winning, and there’s a good chance they will win the rest of their games, all will be smooth❌✅.

Also I am not even thinking beyond February. I have one interesting thought about it, but it’s just too speculative to even mention here. But as we move through the next two months, I’ll get clues to be able to guess at what will happen after she goes back on tour after the Super Bowl✅. And if I’m wrong about all of this, which I may very well be because she is notoriously unpredictable sometimes, I will simply take it as a learning opportunity to understand her better.✅

[romanarose]

rewatching The Last of Us outbreak day fo the first time since i first watched it (this show is too much to rewatch often lol)

And Im just struck by everything, all the little details. Tommy and Joel's reltionship, how much they care for Sarah and trying to save her above everything else, how Tommy constantly looks to Joel for guidance and direction.

But largely, I'm struck by how quickly and ruthlessly Joel turned. I don't mean that in a bad way, I just mean he was READY. Nothing was more important than his family. Primarily Sarah, but also Tommy. First instinct when the car crash happened and Joel and Srah were out but the police car hit, Joel should've ran then, but he stayed calling for Tommy. Tommy mattered to him, just under Sarah.

And Tommy? Tommy loved Sarah too. Tommy fought for Sarah's life, despite how he clearly wanted Joel's guidance, he told Joel to take Sarah and go because Sarah mattered more to both of them. I think this gets downplayed a lot in fics. Tommy didn't have children until Mara got pregnant, Sarah was the closest thing he had, and he suffered her loss too.

And Joel turned, fast. deadly fast. He killed several infected and although they were coming for them, he did not hesitate. After the first old lady. The people on the street didn't matter, because they weren't Sarah and Tommy. I think Sarah saw that too. That her dad wasn't the same kindhearted neighbor, loving father, protective brother, no, he was single focused now. Tommy saw it too. The side eyes he gave his brother but he too understood.

It was the same, cold, dead-eye ferocity that we saw in the hospital scene, just less jaded.

For the record, Joel was correct in both those circumstances, a dad trying to keep his children alive above all else.

[thegoldenhoof]

I think about this interview a lot.

I think about how Jenkins thinks queer romances end up tragic/unrequited.

How these queer romantic characters deserve a happy ending.

How he gave this as an answer to the question about the death of the one character whose arc was very much queer and very much not romantic.

Its great to be able to see yourself in fairytale romances.

It would be still more amazing if those of us for whom romance was not in the picture and probably will never be could see our fantastical queer happy endings too....

But of course... How could you possibly tell happy queer stories without romance. Being queer is all about Love is Love after all /s