#i need a tag for lyon....

[t3r4t0m4]

not very photogenic are we

[konohamaru-sensei]

Little Mr. Definitely-Has-His-Shit-Together (i continue to be a one character artist tonight.) (pose ref)

one week of lyon, prev day.

[whitenikes]

this guy? he's 🤏🤏🤏🤏 two apples tall

[swordwife]

sobbing crying.

he's such a sweet lad 😭 😭 he just wanted to help people 😭 😭

[fazcinatingblog]

What my fanfics are like now: 500 think pieces describing Faz's wedding preparation and life as a married man

What my fanfics would've been if I was writing in 2019: the night Daisy Thomas drank six wines at a charity night (what really happened)

[meazalykov]

the critic

lena oberdorf x commentator!reader

summary: when lena gets tagged in a video clip, she approaches you

before the cameras, before the viral clips, before the edits, before your voice became synonymous with women’s soccer commentary, there was your games itself.

you used to play, back in the day. soccer was your life—practices in the morning, matches on weekends, hours spent refining your craft, the feel of the ball at your feet something almost sacred. 

you had dreams, big ones, of playing at the highest level, maybe even for the national team. but that all came crashing down when a spinal injury took you out of the game. 

one bad fall, a rough tackle by three players at once in a crucial match, and suddenly, everything you had worked for was gone. 

the doctors said you were lucky to be walking and running again, but for a long time, it didn’t feel like luck. 

it felt like a curse, like soccer was ripped away from you when you were just starting to get your footing in the world of professional sports. 

lyon was close to signing you from your childhood club. however, that changed. the deal had to fail and so did your dream.

so you had to shift gears. you couldn’t play anymore, but you could talk about the game, share your insights, your passion, your love for it with the world. 

and, as it turned out, people loved listening to you. your analysis was sharp, your delivery honest, your humor was sweet, and soon enough, you became a well-known voice in women’s soccer commentary. 

you poured everything you couldn’t put on the pitch into your work, and it paid off.

now, here you are—2023, world cup, germany vs colombia. the stadium is electric, fans buzzing with anticipation. 

it’s your job to capture all of it, to bring the game to life for those watching at home. 

alongside you in the commentator’s booth is tyrell, your close friend and co-host for one of the biggest sports streaming sites in the world. 

you adjust your headset, eyes scanning the field as the camera pans over the players. 

"alright, tyrell, we’ve got quite the matchup today," you say, your voice carrying across the broadcast. 

"germany is looking to bounce back after their last game, and colombia has been on fire in their latest matches with caicedo. it’s anyone’s game today."

"no doubt," tyrell agrees. 

“but you know i’ve got my eye on germany’s midfield. lena oberdorf, she’s got a lot of weight on her shoulders in this one. one of the best defensive midfielders in the world is on the pitch tonight." he finishes. 

you nod, your gaze locking onto oberdorf as she moves across the pitch. 

she’s been a standout for years—strong, composed, a true force in the midfield. 

you’ve always admired the way she plays, the way she commands respect on the field as she will roughly stop any opponent attack. 

but today, something feels off. you’ve been watching her closely during the first half, and you can’t help but feel like she’s holding back.

"honestly," you start, pausing to gather your thoughts, "i expected more from oberdorf during that first half."

there’s a brief silence as tyrell turns to look at you, his eyebrows raised in surprise. 

it’s not often that you call out a player like that, especially someone as highly regarded as oberdorf. 

"really?" he asks, curious. "what do you think’s going on with her?"

you lean forward slightly, watching as the replay of germany’s midfield play rolls across your monitor. 

"she’s not playing with her usual aggression. oberdorf is known for her ability to dominate the midfield, to break up play and transition quickly. but today, she’s been hesitant. this can’t continue if they don’t want someone like caicedo to get in their box. oberdorf needs to press harder, get more involved in the attack. if she steps it up in the second half, she can make the difference that germany needs."

your words hang in the air for a moment before tyrell responds, and the conversation shifts back to the overall match. 

but you can’t shake the feeling that your comment will stir something up. 

sure enough, by the time the game is over—colombia managing to scrape by with a fantastic win—your phone is buzzing nonstop. 

social media is ablaze with the clip of you critiquing oberdorf, the internet having latched onto the rare moment where you offered up something negative about a player you so clearly admired.

fans of both you and lena are eating it up, dissecting your analysis, making memes, and some even suggesting you had ulterior motives. 

it doesn’t help that you’ve been vocal in the past about your respect for oberdorf’s game. 

and maybe, if you’re being totally honest, there’s more to it than just respect. 

you’ve followed her career closely, always a little more interested in her games than others. not that you’d ever admit to having a bit of a crush on her—not publicly, anyway.

across the city, at the team hotel, lena oberdorf is stretched out on her bed, headphones in, trying to decompress after the match. 

her body is exhausted, germany didn’t get the result they needed. her phone buzzes with notifications, but she ignores it for now, lost in her thoughts.

that is, until laura freigang walks in, a mischievous grin on her face and her phone in hand. 

"lena," she says, her voice sings, "it looks like someone’s got their eye on you."

lena sits up, raising an eyebrow. "what are you talking about?"

laura tosses her phone onto the bed, and lena catches it, her eyes narrowing as she watches the video that’s already queued up. 

it’s you, sitting in the commentator’s booth, talking about her. her. 

"honestly, i expected more from oberdorf during that first half."

lena blinks, her mind processing the words. she’s used to hearing praise, especially from someone like you, who’s usually more positive in your analysis. 

but this? it feels different. not harsh, but… honest. like you know she could do better, and that, in a weird way, feels almost flattering.

"see?" laura says, flopping onto the bed next to her. 

"she noticed you. she expects more from you, lena."

lena rolls her eyes, but she can’t hide the faint smile tugging at her lips. 

it’s no secret, at least among her teammates, that she’s always found you attractive. she’s mentioned it once or twice—half-joking, half-serious—how she watches your broadcasts not just for the analysis but because, well, you’re easy on the eyes. 

but she never thought it would go beyond that. you were based in new york city, worlds away from her, and probably didn’t even know she existed outside of your job.

but now? maybe things have changed.

"i don’t want to get your hopes up because it could’ve been a simple analysis but maybe this is your shot," laura adds, nudging lena with her elbow. 

"go for it. what’s the worst that could happen?"

lena hesitates, the idea forming in her mind. it’s bold, sure, but she’s never been one to shy away from taking risks. "yeah… maybe i will."

later that night, you’re sitting in the hotel bar, winding down after a long day of commentary in australia. 

the buzz from the viral clip still lingers in the back of your mind, and you’re half-expecting to get some flak for it. but instead, it seems like people are more entertained by the whole thing than anything else. 

you take a sip of your drink, eyes scanning the room, when you hear a voice behind you.

"hey y/n-- I'm sorry, uh I hope i’m not interrupting."

you turn, and your breath catches in your throat for just a second. it’s lena oberdorf, standing right in front of you, looking a little nervous but still carrying that air of confidence she always has on the pitch.

how did she find you? maybe the german national team stayed nearby? i mean, you were told this was a popular bar in sydney.

however, why would lena go to a bar if she has to prepare for the important match against south korea?

"not at all," you manage, trying to keep your cool despite the sudden rush of nerves.

"what’s up?"

"i, uh, saw the clip," she says, rubbing the back of her neck. "the one where you talked about me."

you chuckle softly, feeling a slight flush in your cheeks. "yeah… i didn’t mean to come off too harsh. just being honest, you know?"

you didn’t know how to react, so you smile. no player has confronted you about your comments before. this is a first.

"no, i get it," she smiles, her eyes locking onto yours. 

"honesty’s good. i just… wanted to ask if you’d like to grab dinner sometime. maybe when you’re in germany next? i’d love to take you out." lena speaks in perfect english. 

you blink, surprised by the offer. of all the things you expected tonight, this wasn’t one of them. but looking at her now, her smile genuine and her eyes soft with hope, you can’t help but smile back.

"yeah," you say, heart racing just a little. "i’d like that."

you were a little older than her, older by two years, but she carried herself in a way that pulled you to her.

the world feels a little smaller, the distance between you and lena shrinking with a single conversation. 

you think that maybe you should critic her more often, kidding— of course.

my masterlist is here if you want to read more fics <3

[titsthedamnseason]

lyon night 1 let’s make some noise!!!!!! 🥳 it’s time to play the surprise song game and the rules are simple! all you need to do is leave your predictions in the tags or replies and everyone that’s right will get a shout from me 💖

my guesses tonight are going to be …question? and change x i forgot that you existed

[whatisshelties]

Some jumping + conditioning resources for @wyrddogs

The Truth About Jumping by Carolyn McIntyre

This one doesn't get specific, but the last paragraph does explain the concepts behind conditioning for jumping and why it's important. She does mention that you need to target the front limbs, rear limbs, and core. That message I got there was conditioning all over will help, lol. From what I grasp, strengthening the front end helps with the forces from landing, while strengthening the rear will help add power to the take off. The core holds everything together.

Canine Conditioning Coach Video Library

You can sort the videos by using the tags. There are videos behind a paywall, but you can sort to find the free videos only. I think a lot of the beginner/foundation exercises are free. You can also sort by the body region the exercise targets as well. I feel like I need to make an obligatory mention of the FB group Canine Conditioning and Body Awareness. CCC owner is also an admin on this group and sometimes will review videos. You could also search the group for discussion about jumping related exercises. What I think is really cool about her site is that if another program has an exercise your dog is struggling with, you can see if there's a foundation level video available on CCC that might help you build up to that other exercise.

Movement Puzzles

Not specifically jump related, but I do think Mud had a lot of fun with this concept and I did notice his coordination improved while working on them. I need to get back into it. I think there are videos on her FB page that can give you ideas. The foundation 2 Bowl Game is free. I paid for the class (after she changed it to lifetime access, lol) and never worked through it it as written. I just sort of got the concept and ran with it.

Focus on Jumping by Bobbie Lyons on Clean Run

This appears to be a purely conditioning based self study course on Clean Run. Just the list of skills the class says it will address gives you an areas and movements you can work on. I think I actually had this class bookmarked at one point for Mud when it was only on Bobbie's website. I believe that was a working class with no audit option, so it cost more and I didn't see myself following along when I didn't know if Mud was sound. Now it's on my radar again.

I follow a good chunk of canine fitness or rehab pros on FB and other dog sport people sometimes share stuff. I saw this two part webinar series shared a couple weeks ago. Like I said in my comment, I was having a hard time thinking of things that weren't behind a paywall. There seem to be plenty of those. I'm going to guess that's partially the fitness trainers protecting themselves. They don't want people saying they found this exercise plan on the internet and then it injured their dog. Most of them will only work with sound dogs. I think some of the conditioning pros might have a video or post here and there that get a little more specific on their FB, but trying to track them down would be challenging.

Edit: I also feel like I should mentioned that you shouldn't feel like you need to buy all kinds of inflatable equipment. I honestly use board like items the most. I actually picked up a couple of these things (not this exact brand, but same item) after someone posted about them and they get used the most. They happen to be wide enough for Mud to sit on, but not really long enough, so I really should make boards, but we've been making due with what I've got. Any exercise is better than nothing.

[wordsbyrian]

Polyglot - USWNT x Reader

Summary: After one odd interview, Kelley, Sonny, and some others stop at nothing to figure out what Y/N has been (not) hiding.

A/N: I’ve been lurking for a while and finally decided to post something. Hope you enjoy it.

It's not unusual for you to find yourself in situations where the team has just found out something about you and then they proceed to act like you had been hiding it from them.

In fact, that is the exact situation you find yourself in right now, the whole team staring at you as walk into the locker room after you finish a post-game interview with a Spanish-speaking outlet.

"Why didn't you tell us that you could speak Spanish," Kelley asks the moment the locker room door closes behind you.

"You didn't ask. Besides, it's not like it's a secret, Ashley and Sophia have known for a while now."

Kelley's head immediately turns to stare at the two women across the locker room, who are just trying to mind their own business.

"You guys knew and didn't say anything," she whines, beginning to stomp her way across the space.

Before she can reach them though, Alex calmly blocks her path and leads Kelley to her own locker, whispering in hushed tones, presumably something about leaving you guys alone so everyone can get back to the hotel.

You think it works because she doesn't bring it up again until dinner later that night.

"So are you going to tell me why none of you ever mentioned that the baby can speak Spanish," she asks, plopping into a seat directly in front of the three of you, Sonnett taking the seat immediately to her left.

At the same time that you mumble about not being a baby, Ashley answers her.

"Once again, no one was hiding it. In fact, we thought that you all knew already, she's been on the team for like two years."

"Of course we didn't know," Sonnett says, "The only times we've ever seen her sit still for more than five minutes, she was asleep!"

"You're one to talk," you say, "The first time I met you, you were wrestling Kelley and Rose in the hotel lobby."

"Whatever, that doesn't explain how you know Spanish," she snarks.

"If you must know, my childhood babysitter didn't speak much English and I spent six days a week with her from the ages of one to 12. Also, I'm not sure if you remember this but I've been living in Barcelona for almost four years."

"Wait, so when did you learn English?"

Kelley mirrors the confused look on Sonnett's face and much to your surprise a few others sat close enough to hear the conversation.

"At the same time," you say, finally looking at them. "It's called simultaneous bilingualism and it's actually really prevalent. It's estimated that half of the world is functionally bilingual and that a majority of that number consider themselves to be native speakers of two languages."

"Sonny, I think the baby just called us stupid," Kelley says, shellshocked.

"She did," Ashley and Sophia speak at the same time and you watch as both Kelley and Sonnett deflate at the plain way they say it.

You thought that was the end of the entire situation until during the next camp a video surfaced online of you speaking French with the media after Barcelona's loss to Lyon in the Champions League final last season.

You had been tagged in the clip what felt like a million times, so it's not surprising that Kelley and Sonentt managed to get their hands on it.

This is how you found yourself hiding in Alex and Kelley's hotel room playing with Charlie, it was the last place the Frat Daddies would think to check. Hopefully, they wouldn't think of it until it's time to leave for the weightlifting session.

"Do you really think that you can avoid them forever," Alex asks, watching as you catch Charlie when she flings her little body off the bed at you.

"No, but I only need to avoid them until we get on the bus because then they'll have to deal with Christen and Sanchez when they try to mess with me."

"If you say so."

"I do."

You're right for the most part, the only time it falters is when Kelley comes back to grab her things before training. That results in the team being treated to the sight of her chasing you down the hallway with Charlie thrown over your shoulder and Alex yelling behind you about making sure not to drop her child.

Outside of that though, it goes off without a hitch with both your best friend and your team mom taking turns glaring at Kelley and Sonnett when they attempt to bother you.

That might be why it's so surprising when Lindsey is the one who brings it up during movie night as you wait for Sam and Kristie to finish arguing about what movie to watch.

"Y/N, truth or dare?"

"Uh, truth," you answer, not bothering to lift your head from its place smushed into a pillow. You’re comfortably lying between Christen and Tobin, with Mal sprawled over the three of you and moving would definitely ruin that.

"How many languages are you fluent in," she asks.

"Fluency is an arbitrary scale that varies from person to person," is the answer you give, even though you know it won't be enough for them to leave you alone.

“For the love of god, would you please just answer the question so they stop bothering both you and me,” Sanchez groans from her place on the other bed.

“Fine. I speak and read English, Spanish and French. I can read German,” you say, struggling to sit up from under Mal’s body weight. “I can only flirt in Dutch but I’m working on learning to read it. Also, Rolfö is teaching me Swedish.”

The line about flirting earns you multiple pinches from the women in the bed with you, but for the most part, everyone is stunned into silence.

The first person to make any sound is Sophia laughing so hard that she can barely get out her words, “Of course, Y/N/N is learning Dutch to talk to girls, it’s like U17s and U20s all over again.”

While you roll your eyes and wish that the conversation would end there, it doesn’t because Kristie says what everyone is thinking.

“So you, the person who dropped out of high school to play in Spain, speak three languages and are actively learning three more?”

“Yes, but can we stop telling people I dropped out of high school because I didn’t.”

“You being a genius really explains why your people skills are so severely lacking with anyone who doesn’t play soccer,” Lindsey says, ignoring you.

“All in favor of changing the baby’s nickname from ‘the baby’ to ‘baby genius’ raise your hands.” Kelley laughs when she sees you're the only one to keep your hand down. “ Motion passes, Y/N shall henceforth be known as 'Baby Genius'.”

“Don’t call me that, please,” you beg.

“Sorry Baby Genius, I’ve already changed your name in the group chat.” Her statement is backed up by the synchronized vibrating of everyone’s phones.

All you can do is let out another groan and sink back into the bed while everyone laughs.

But the night goes on and the subject ends up being dropped permanently. At least that’s what you think until somehow you find yourself, alongside Mal, being called over to do a post-game interview with ESPN at the end of the game later that week.

Most of the questions are directed at her, unsurprisingly, but eventually, the reporter turns her attention to you.

“Y/N, you guys had your hands full defensively tonight and there was even a moment where you had to track back and clear a ball off the goal line after a mishandling by Naeher. What was going through your mind at that moment?”

“Uhm, mostly a lot of inappropriate language but also the fact that I kinda caused Lys to mishandle the ball and it’d really suck if it went in because of my mistake, so I had to make sure that didn’t happen,” you say, wiping some of your sweat away.

“One more question, Y/N,” she says. “Recently, a ton of videos of you speaking both French and Spanish have surfaced online, is this a new development or have you been hiding this talent?”

“I’ve not been hiding it, most of my interviews since going to Barcelona have been in Spanish but no one in America really asks about it. I’ve been speaking both Spanish and French for a long time now, it’s not that impressive,” you say, unsure if the heat in your cheeks is leftover from the game or because of the spotlight you find yourself forced into.

It only gets worse because Mal takes it upon herself to brag on your behalf.

“She’s just being humble, Y/N spends all of her free time studying languages and is working on three others right now.”

The reporter looks shocked, “Is that true?”

“Yeah.”

“A skilled soccer player and a natural born polyglot, you can really do it all. Y/N, Mal thank you for your time.” She turns back to the camera before sending the broadcast back to whoever happens to be in the studio.

As you walk away, Ashley walks over to you, slinging her arm over your shoulder.

“Don’t look so grumpy. We won and now the world knows you’re a genius,” she says.

“She called me a polyglot,” you grumble.

“Ok?”

“I’m not, I only speak three languages.”

Sanchez just sighs and shakes her head, continuing to lead you toward the sidelines where fans are waiting for photos and autographs.

“Don’t worry Baby Genius, we’ll work on your people skills.”

[blueteas]

Valentim Bathroom Set

It's been about a year since my last bathroom set, and this is one that I've wanted to make for a long time. I hope you enjoy it!

What we have:

17 new items;

all base-game compatible, except the backlit mirror, which requires Spa Day;

all functional;

I've kept the polycount as low as I could, but these items are still high poly;

I decided to focus on sinks, tubs, and mirrors because there are only so many different toilets you need to decorate a bathroom! 😂 If you haven't already, grab the files from my Lyon Bathroom Set for a great toilet and some nice decor.

Download: Patreon (free, no ads)

x Please send you're wcifs through the ask box.

→ Every item is playtested. Message me privately if you have any problems with the files.

→ Read my T.O.U here.

Tag me in your creations, I'll love to see them!

Happy simming!

[konohamaru-sensei]

thank you for the tag @whatshernameis. sorry i forgot until now since it came in last night and i have holes for brains:

"MY MAN"

four characters who make you yell "MY MAN MY MAN MY MAN" !

ehehe tagging the gang @lemony-snickers @akamikazae @foolishk @kankuroplease and @qettleqorn

[lastlight-inn]

you came back with gravity

Chapter 1: my resentment's getting smaller

Gale x female!Tav

3.7k words

Mature

AO3 Link

On one Waterdhavian spring day a chance encounter brings two old friends back together for the first time in almost ten years. Gale Dekarios is the last person Poppy wants to see but when confronted with his affliction, Poppy is forced to make a decision that will define both of them for the rest of their lives. – A Canon-Divergent AU where Gale still has the orb but the events of BG3 don’t happen.

Tags: Angst, Grief, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Discussions of Death, Discussions of Suicide

banner from @firefly-graphics

The wet cobblestones of Waterdeep slap under her boots as Poppy makes her way to the South Gate. It thankfully had not poured last night as many had predicted so the caravan should be leaving on time and without any road condition delays. It’s times like these she wished she taught herself Teleport. Half the fun of travel was the actual travel, the in-between of your departure and arrival. But given where she’s trying to leave, that fun isn’t as tempting as it usually is. She is deeply considering stopping by Book Wyrm’s Treasure to buy a scroll just so she could get out of here. 

She never liked to stay in Waterdeep for too long these days.

Just as she is about to come upon Delzorin Street, the flap of wings and a familiar shrill voice meets her ears.

“Miss Lyons! Oh thank the gods, what serendipity!” 

In a blur of fur and feathers, a mottled tressym lands on a low post a few feet in front of Poppy.

Poppy sighs inwardly. She loves Tara, but Tara is too close to what Poppy is trying to avoid. She definitely will be stopping by Book Wyrm’s after this…

“Tara!” Poppy exclaims, putting on a show of excitement of seeing her old friend. “How are you my dear?”

“I don’t have time for pleasantries or whatever you thought that passed as just now Miss Lyons,” Tara admonishes. “Mr. Dekarios and I are in need of your assistance.”

“Oh the great Archmage Gale of Waterdeep needs my assistance?” Poppy asks sarcastically. “Apologies if I don’t believe that. Now excuse me, I have somewhere to be.”

“He is not asking, I am.”

That makes Poppy pause. “But you said he needs my help?”

“He needs help but he will not ask for it, you know how he gets. But this time it may cost him his life.”

Poppy can only stare at the tressym. Tara loves Gale. Would do anything for him. It comes with the territory of being his familiar but also knowing him for over twenty years…thirty years? Gods, she’s getting old. But while Tara would do anything for Gale, she also calls him out on his bullshit. It’s something her and Poppy bonded over when they first met. And if Gale actually is in trouble and is refusing help, Tara would go and seek assistance…but then another thought occurs to her.

“Why doesn’t he ask Mystra to help him? Surely this is something his goddess can handle.”

Tara actually looks uncomfortable for a moment before replying, “She has forsaken him. Due to the cause of the situation he finds himself in, his prayers and pleas go unanswered. I have been doing what I can to assist him but there is only so much I can do, and he is adamant I don’t contact Elminster or The Blackstaff.”

Poppy chuckles darkly, “And what makes you think that I can help? I’m no archmage.”

“Do not sell yourself short Miss Lyons, you are quite powerful. But you are his friend—”

“We’re not friends, Tara,” Poppy interrupts. “We haven’t been for years now.”

“But what about you and I? Please Miss Lyons, if not for him would you do it for me? I’m desperately worried about him. I hate to see him wasting away as he is and there is only so much I can do,” Tara implores.

Wasting away? Poppy shakes her head. No. She can’t. He wasn’t there for her when she needed him so why should she be there for him? 

But when she looks back at Tara, Poppy only sees deep concern carved into the tressym’s face.

Oh for fuck’s sake.

—

The townhouse looks a little worse for wear. Gale had enchantments all over the property to keep it looking its best no matter the season. It’s summer and his roses should be in bloom, but instead sit dead and dry in the mulch borders against the building. The vines that had once grown artfully up a trellis are now unruly and climbing halfway up the facade of the building. 

Tara unlocks the door with a swish of her tail and Poppy follows her inside. 

Something is…off. Just like the unkempt flora outside, the inside of Gale’s tower feels wrong. Poppy recalls previous visits to Gale’s tower where the Weave would practically smack you in the face as you crossed the threshold. Between the wards of the tower, the amount of artifacts he kept on hand, and Gale’s mere presence, the Weave was something integral to Gale’s home akin to the scent of someone cooking in a kitchen or music in Poppy’s home growing up. But not anymore.

Visually, it’s less cluttered. Poppy follows Tara up the stairs and sees some noticeably empty spots in the display cases and bookshelves that line the walls. There’s also a fine layer of dust over almost everything, as if he hadn’t been using this part of the tower in quite some time. 

Then there’s the quiet. The enchanted piano that one could usually hear from where it played in Gale’s study on a near-constant basis is silent. Poppy pokes her head into the kitchen at its landing and sees dishes piled up in the sink, no unseen servant tending to them. 

It’s unsettling, to say the least. Gale is someone full of life, color, and movement and that extends to his home. To see it in such a state makes her mind wander as to what condition she will find Gale in.

Eventually, she reaches the landing for Gale’s bedroom where one half of the double doors stands ajar, Tara’s fluffy rump disappearing through it as Poppy rounds the corner.

She takes a deep breath and moves into the doorway, stopping in the threshold. Poppy hasn’t spent much time in Gale’s bedroom but she has seen it enough to know generally how he tends to keep it. And what she sees now makes her heart sink. Gale has been a night owl for as long as she’s known him, so him sleeping in isn’t an immediate cause for concern, but she knows better than anyone what a depression nest looks like. What it looks like when one can’t get out of bed. It’s a particular type of wrinkles present in the linens and the level of darkness in the room. It’s how he’s laying in the bed, splayed out like he’s become one with the mattress. It’s, to be frank, the smell. Of when someone stays in one room for too long. A type of must that melds together with one’s natural musk. 

Tara flaps onto the bed and bats him on the chest with a paw. “Mr. Dekarios, we have a visitor,” she announces. 

Gale stirs, a low groan barely audible from where Poppy stands in the doorway. “Tara, we don’t take visitors,” she hears him mumble.

“Yes we do! I invited them myself. Now please sit up! We don’t want to be rude to our guest.”

“Tara!” he reproves, his voice hoarse. “I can’t let anyone see me like this—”

“None of that Mr. Dekarios, they are here to help. Now get up.”

Gale lets out a long-suffering sigh and moves to sit up, rolling out the cricks in his neck and Poppy can’t control the quiet gasp she utters at the sight of him.

He’s so thin; gaunt, even. His hair is grown out around his shoulders and a tangled beard crowds his jawline. But what really shocks her is the pale purple glow that emanates from the tendrils of a tattoo on his chest that crawls up his neck and across his cheek, making his dirty white shirt glow purple as well. 

Gale’s eyes shoot to the doorway at her gasp and for the first time in ten years she is looking Gale Dekarios in the face and she absolutely hates it. Not just because she does not want to be here, but because of what he looks like and how it makes her feel. The purple glow seems to flare as he looks at her and he winces, clutching at his chest. 

Curiosity getting the best of her, Poppy tosses her bag and jacket  into a chair and strides into the room to get a closer look at the unmistakably magical and painful mark that brands his chest. 

“No, please,” he gasps. “Poppy, you don’t need to be here. Tara, what in the blazes—”

“I will not be admonished for my actions Mr. Dekarios. You did not specifically say that we could not reach out to her for help, and I happened to encounter her on my errands.”

“Yes, but—”

“Gale what did you do?” Poppy interrupts. 

He turns to her with the most pitiful look on his face. Clearly in pain, clearly uncomfortable with her presence given their last interactions or lack thereof, and clearly worried which confuses Poppy. 

“It’s nothing you need to concern yourself with I am perfectly fin—eughhhhh” Gale lets out a groan and his eye twitches and he clutches at his chest once more. 

Poppy crawls onto the bed next to him and pulls down the collar of his shirt to see that the tendrils converge on a circle on his sternum. The skin is bruised in the center and the glowing seems to get stronger not due to her removing its covering, but by Gale’s distress.

“Please, please,” he wheezes. 

She ghosts a hand over the mark to get an idea of what in the hells this is and feels something hungry and roiling in his chest. Something dark. She closes her eyes and tries to focus on the magic nestled there and it feels wrong. 

“I’m assuming you’ve tried dispelling this,” she mutters, brain working overdrive, trying to remember everything she’s ever read that might be useful. Thinking through every spell she knows and how they can help, if at all. 

“Of course I have,” he gasps. “Please Poppy, you don’t need to concern yourself with me, let me suffer.”

“Shut up,” she snaps. Thinking. Thinking. 

Wanting to see it for herself, she tries to dispel it, crooning the words and twisting her fingers just so over his chest. She’s failed to dispel too-strong magic before. She knows what it feels like, like throwing her own magic at an impenetrable wall of Weave. And she knows what it feels like to successfully dispel, to feel it fizzle away by her will and song. 

But this, this thing in his chest does neither. Instead it consumes her spell, pulling the energy she evokes from the Weave and devouring it. Gale groans in relief and he collapses into the sheets.

Her spell ends and the glow subsides, but she can feel the energy beneath Gale’s skin and it seems to be sated. For now. 

“What the fuck is that, Gale?”

Gale lays there next to her, panting. “Poppy, you really should go.”

“The fuck I will, now answer my question!”

“I brought her here to help, Mr. Dekarios,” Tara appeals. “Please give her a chance to.”

“There’s nothing else she can do, Tara.”

“Wow, thanks for the vote of confidence. Maybe if you actually tell me what happened I can surprise you, hmm?”

Gale looks between Tara and Poppy before seemingly resigning himself to his fate. “It’s not a particularly flattering story.”

And so he tells her. About Mystra. About his drive for more. About the book. How it almost killed him outright. How Mystra has abandoned him. How it’s been eating away at him for almost a year. How he’s emptied every magic artifact in his tower so Tara goes out in search of magical items. And how she is the only person to know about this outside of Tara.

She can only stare at him. Her stupid genius of a best friend. Ex-best friend. The tunnel vision, the fucking ambition, none of it is surprising to her. He’s been like this their whole lives. Only this time it didn’t get him ahead, instead it did the opposite, rending him into the man that lays in his bed in front of her, barely able to cast a cantrip. 

What is she even doing?

“You’re fucking unbelievable,” she mutters.

“You know me, always striving for the astounding,” he jests.

“Oh, feeling good enough to joke now that I’ve pumped a spell into you, are we?”

He winces at the callout. “It’s been some time since I last consumed an artifact, and it did alleviate most of the pain, even though that is not exactly what you had intended.”

Poppy’s mind buzzing with this new information of the orb and its magic, an idea occurs to her.

“Let me try something else.” She places both hands over the orb and closes her eyes to focus. She strains to listen for the hum of the orb, its frequency, its note. In her travels she’s dispelled things as she just attempted to, but there’s another way. Like how opera singers can reach such notes that shatter glass, if she can counter the frequency of the orb, maybe she can neutralize it. Not really casting a spell, more like pure manipulation of energy by reaching out to the metaphysical echoes of the words of creation from the very beginning of time. Something raw and primordial compared to the neat and tidy way casters interact with the Weave in this day and age. 

It’s discordant because of course it is. Not a single note but a collection, a chord. Something sharp that grates at her ears but she grasps onto it, and begins to sing. No words, just notes. She doesn’t have perfect pitch but with enough focus and time she can match notes just fine. But her voice can’t make this note on its own. Raising one hand, she casts Minor Illusion to create another collection of hopefully correct sounds to compliment her voice. She strains to focus on the frequency, this spell, and her singing at the same time. It just might work. She needs it to work. Gale needs it to work. 

After a few minutes she finds the right combination of notes and holds.

They don't need to wait long. Moments after the frequencies match Poppy can feel the orb become angry. Unstable, even. Like instead of neutralizing it she’s amplifying it.

“Poppy,” Gale gasps. “Poppy stop.”

She opens her eyes and sees pure terror and pain in his brown ones. “This is supposed to work,” she cries. 

Gale cries out in pain and the orb glows brighter and brighter and so she lets go, wrenching her hands away from him and cutting off her connection with the orb. He presses a hand onto his chest, the mark still glowing and tears streaming down his face.

Disbelieving, angry, ashamed, ashamed, ashamed, Poppy reaches forward to touch his arm and he flinches. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, casting a strong healing word over him, hoping it at least helps with the pain.

Gale takes a few moments to catch his breath before he responds, “You should leave.”

“I’m not leaving you like this.”

“You should be back out there living your life! And I’ve clearly made you late for something seeing as you’re in traveling clothes. Go and forget about me and all of this. I’ve been managing just fine on my own.”

“Having Tara go and fetch you enchanted items to sate the orb isn’t sustainable, don’t be stupid. Besides, have you seen yourself? When’s the last time you ate something?”

His hesitation is enough of an answer for her. She grabs her bag and jacket and storms into the kitchen a few floors down. Conjuring her own unseen servant, she sets it to wash the dishes while she prestidigitates the rest of the kitchen clean. There’s not much in the pantry except for some rotting fruit which she immediately tosses. Upon inspection of his larder in the basement she finds his seemingly endless stores of hundur sauce and wine but unfortunately not much else other than some rice and flour. 

Poppy makes her way back up to the foyer and sits in one of the armchairs there, a cloud of dust pluming up as she compresses the cushion. Sneezing, she casts another prestidigitation until the dust is gone and then settles her face in her hands.

What the fuck is she doing? She’s supposed to be on her way to Baldur’s Gate by now. He doesn’t deserve a fucking meal from her.

Rot. Let him rot. He wasn’t there for her, so why should she be there for him? She’s done all she can in trying to dispel the orb. He’s gone and done something way over even his head and now he’s stuck, barely even a shadow of his former self. 

Serves him right, she thinks. But there’s no schadenfreude like she wants there to be, expects there to be.

Her mind churns, battling her spite and her guilt until a small thump gets her attention.

Looking up from her hands she sees Tara sitting primly in front of her on the carpet, watching. Waiting.

“Please don’t look at me like that, Tara.”

“Like what? I don’t know what you mean, Miss Lyons.”

Poppy sighs deeply until she feels her chest tighten around the lack of air in her lungs. 

“He never stopped trying, you know. He wrote you many letters. Some the length of novels. He never sent them, of course. But your absence pained him and still does. I’m not saying what he did was okay—I gave him my own lashing when he missed your mother’s funeral—but I’m worried for him. He hasn’t spoken to Morena since this began, and there’s only so much I can do to deflect her questions. And I don’t know who else to turn to. I’ll keep trying to find magic items for as long as the orb needs them, but you’re right. That isn’t sustainable.”

As long as the orb needs them. What’s the timeline on this sort of thing? Is there even one? Is this something Gale will live with for the rest of his life? Or will the orb be the end of his life?

“Tara…do you know what will happen if you stop feeding the orb? What will happen?”

Tara’s ears flick in irritation, in concern. “I don’t think you want to know that.”

“Tara, please,” Poppy pleads.

The tressym sighs. “Mr. Dekarios surmises that the orb when left unfed will explode. It could level the entirety of Waterdeep.”

Shock doesn’t even begin to describe how Poppy feels at that. She sits up a little and reaches a hand out and Tara comes, hopping into Poppy’s lap and allowing her to hug her and bury her face in her fur and feathers. 

Shock makes way for dread, panic, and of course worry. But not helplessness. 

Poppy is no Archmage, but she’s nothing if not creative. All this information does is make her want to beat it. Destroy it. Save him.

Save him. Gale may have made a stupid fucking mistake all those years ago that made her tear her heart out, but that doesn’t mean she wants him dead. As a matter of fact, right now it’s the last thing she wants.

—

A few hours, a perusal of Gale’s cookbook collection, and a trip to the market later, Poppy is moving through Gale’s kitchen as if it were her own. Gale is by far the more creative cook but Poppy can follow a recipe and knows how to hold a knife, and that’s enough to make something delicious and filling. Gale’s notes in the margins of the recipes aren’t unhelpful either.

It’s while the stew is finishing up and she’s singing as she toasts some bread that she hears the shuffle of feet behind her. Keeping her hands working but turning her head over her shoulder she catches Gale hesitantly making his way into the kitchen.

“You’re up! I thought the orb made you completely bedridden.”

“No, ah,” he starts. “When the orb is sated I am mostly myself but with some lingering pains. When it begins to hunger on the other hand…”

“Understood.”

There’s a bit of an awkward silence afterwards as Poppy turns back to the food cooking in front of her. She doesn’t hear Gale move and is waiting for him to say what he came down here to say. Because he always has something to say.

“You don’t have to do this” he draws off.

“You’re right, I don’t,” she says. “But I refuse to leave you like I found you. Or let you get back to that state for that matter.” Scooping up some stew in a bowl, she then grabs a microplane and shreds fresh cheese over the top like she’s seen Gale do before when making a similar dish. 

Placing the stew and bread at the place setting closest to where he’s sitting, she gestures to it and says, “Eat.” 

Gale doesn’t move to take a seat, he only stares at the bowl with that crease between his brow that forms whenever he’s thinking hard about something. 

“Why are you still here?” he asks.

Poppy pours herself her own bowl of food and sits across from his spot, digging in, using her chewing of the meat and vegetables to give her time to think over her answer.

While she mulls, Gale finally sits but doesn’t touch the food. After a few moments, she swallows. Honesty has always been the best policy in her opinion, even though she would love to lie through her teeth right now. She reaches for the unopened bottle of wine on the table and begins working the cork out to keep her hands busy.

“Because I’m supposed to be the one who gets bedridden for weeks at a time. Who locks herself away in a dark room because everything is too much. And you’re the one who’s supposed to glow with the sun and with life.”

The cork finally free with a ‘pop’ she pours both of them hearty servings. They both need it.

Poppy finally levels her gaze at him. “Because I care about you. Now eat.”

[wrestler-smash-or-pass]

Weekly Wrapup 3/10/24

This Week's Rankings:

Utami Hayashishita - 88.9% smash

Jon Moxley (Dean Ambrose variant) - 84.6%

Eddie Guerrero - 80.5%

Edge and Beth Phoenix - 75.1%

KENTA - 75.1%

Unholy Union (Alba Fyre and Isla Dawn) - 74.3%

Carmelo Hayes - 71.6%

Bear Boulder - 69.1%

Pretty Deadly (Elton Prince and Kit Wilson) - 59.9%

Minoru Suzuki (Current Day) - 51.8%

Randy Orton with a mustache - 50.9%

Sami Callihan (CZW Era) - 26.4%

Gangrel - 24.1%

Gorgeous George - 21.4%

Average smash rating this week: 61.0%

More stats under the cut, along with my observations, commentary, and some of my favorite tags...

Most total votes this week (most enthusiasm)

Jon Moxley (Dean Ambrose) - 364 votes

Minoru Suzuki - 361

Utami Hayashishita - 343

Edge and Beth Phoenix - 338

Eddie Guerrero - 303

And least total votes this week (least enthusiasm)

Sami Callihan - 178 votes

Gorgeous George - 187

Unholy Union - 206

Bear Boulder - 217

Carmelo Hayes - 222

The closest poll was Randy Orton with a mustache, who won 115-111

Top Ten Overall

Kris Statlander - 91% smash

Athena - 90.2% smash

Hikaru Shida - 89.7% smash

Utami Hayashishita - 88.9% smash

Minoru Suzuki (Young Variant) - 88.7% smash

Swerve Strickland - 88.3% smash

Toni Storm - 88.1% smash

Hiroshi Tanahashi - 87.7% smash

Hangman Adam Page - 86.4% smash

Bianca Belair - 86.4% smash

Bottom Ten Overall

Vince McMahon - 3.9% smash

Ric Flair - 4.6% smash

Kane (Corporate variant) - 10.1% smash

Miracle Violence Connection - 11.8% smash

Gene Munny - 12.4% smash

Spike Trivet - 12.% smash

Kevin Sullivan - 13.1% smash

Triple H (Terra Ryzing variant) - 18.6% smash

Eric Bischoff (NWO) - 20.0% smash

Gorgeous George - 21.4% smash

Top Women Overall

Kris Statlander - 91% smash

Athena - 90.2% smash

Hikaru Shida - 89.7% smash

Utami Hayashishita - 88.9% smash

Toni Storm - 88.1% smash

Bottom Women Overall

Eve Torres - 47.1% smash

Carmella - 47.8% smash

Nikkita Lyons - 48.2% smash

Julia Hart (Cheerleader Variant) - 49.8% smash

Kelly Kelly - 50.3% smash

Top Men Overall

Minoru Suzuki (Young Variant) - 88.7% smash

Swerve Strickland - 88.3% smash

Hiroshi Tanahashi - 87.7% smash

Hangman Adam Page - 86.4% smash

Hikuleo - 86.0% smash

Top Tag Teams

The Golden Lovers - 80.4% smash

Unholy Union - 74.3% smash

Best Friends - 66.7% smash

Motor City Machine Guns - 65.5% smash

Roppongi Vice - 62.7% smash

There were some new additions to the overall lists this week. Utami Hayashishita earned a spot on both the top overall list and the top women's list, and Gorgeous George just barely kicked Charlie Dempsey off the bottom overall list.

We've now had three polls on Jon Moxley, and the ranking is:

Current AEW Mox - 84.8% smash

Dean Ambrose - 84.6%

CZW Mox - 82.3%

Also, people prefer non-mullet Eddie Guerrero (80.5% smash) to Eddie Guerrero with a mullet (77.0% smash), and people prefer Randy Orton sans mustache (62.3% smash) to Randy Orton with mustache (50.9% smash).

Also like...88.7% of you would have done Minoru Suzuki when he was young, but only 51.8% of you would do old Suzuki? To echo the sentiments of a few reblogs, is this not the "sexualize that old man" website?

In actual blog news, the 250th poll was posted today, and we hit 500 followers a couple weeks ago but I forgot until now. Thank you so much to everyone who's followed, submitted poll requests, reblogged, liked, and otherwise interacted with this blog!

And now for some of my favorite tags and comment

@lghockey on Gorgeous George: #what in the revolutionary war is that haircut

@booboo-eyedbambi on Bear Boulder: #i need him to squish me like he's trying to get the last of his toothpaste out of me

@midcarder on Minoru Suzuki: #the only reason to not fuck suzuki is because you're afraid

@regalityandcoffee on Carmelo Hayes: #on one hand hes hot#in the other hand i once had a dream he tried to kill me so- I once had a dream that William Regal put drugs in my suitcase as I was going on vacation with Mox. Wrestlers are rude af in dreams.

[vaelynez]

Hey random question but you as frustrated as I am that Lamia has not had a single appearance in 100 year quest? Even Kagura had a single panel with speech but the Lamia Crew (other than an image with Toby on the toilet) has none!

Thank you for the ask! 💕

Let me preface what I’m about to say because this fandom can be a little bit up in arms about this; I have no ill will in saying this towards anyone, this is simply my opinion. I’m fine with discussions on this topic, but I will not tolerate unnecessary hate if it comes.

Moving on…confession time. I haven’t read the 100 YQ. I’ve been avoiding it because Gruvia makes me really uncomfortable for reasons I’m not going to get into in this post, and to my understanding it’s filled with it now that it’s canon. Yes, when a ship is canon it’ll get page time, but I can’t stomach this ship at all. Again, it makes me viscerally uncomfortable.

On the topic of Lamia Scale, I’m always down for more content with them. I love the entire crew so so much. But knowing Hiro Mashima, the appearance would be centered around Lyon and Juvia. While Luvia doesn’t make me uncomfortable like Gruvia does, I don’t like it—I personally feel like the entire thing completely destroyed everything established about Lyon’s character, and I might make a full analysis about it one day, but this fandom scares me and I’m not in the mood to get into internet fights over ships. I have a job and stories to write and summer classes to focus on.

In an ideal world I’d love more content with them. There’s so much to explore with the Lamia Scale crew as a team and individual characters, Gray and Lyon’s relationship has so much nuance and I love to analyze the scenes they have together.

But personally, with the direction the series has taken in regard to these characters (Sherry please come home we miss you. Yuka and Toby deserve so so much more. Like just a smidge of backstory I’m begging you. Jura as a mentor figure PLEASE. Lyon’s growth as a character is so compelling and yet you focus on this stupid jealousy plot that completely undermines his past and current goals—), I don’t think I’d actually like the scenes written.

This is all my personal opinion! Again, I’m not trying to shame anyone who likes/read 100 YQ. I want to read it, I do, but again…Gruvia…

Respectfully, if any Gruvia shippers see this and feel the need to argue with me, I am entitled to my opinion even if you disagree with it. Nothing you say will make me support this ship for a plethora of reasons that would make this post way, way too long. Lets save both of our energy. The Gruvia tag is waiting for you to consume all the content to your hearts content.

Again, thank you for the ask! Have a good day peeps. 💕

[oqmemphis]

Simulating Tag Across Europe: The Marne Valley Gambit

Sometimes I play simulated versions of Jet Lag: The Game over Google Maps and Discord with a few friends — usually existing formats with some tinkering to make them work on a new map. This is a story from one of those games, about the greatest gambit I ever pulled.

Let's set the scene. We're playing a version of Tag Across Europe. It is the start of my run, and I am in Clermont-Ferrand, France. My endpoint, the place I'm trying to reach without getting caught, is in Sweden.

This is a slight problem.

A much larger problem is that my run started at exactly 7:16pm, local time — 44 minutes before the game pauses for a rest period. Theoretically, I have a 45-minute head start on the chasers, but since there are no useful trains out of Clermont-Ferrand before 8pm, nearly all of that head start is wiped out. The game restarts at 6am the next morning, and the chasers can start running after me at 6:01.

I spend 44 minutes doing challenges, and then walk back to the station.

In recent games, we've started rolling dice every time we board a train to see if it's delayed, and by how much. This game was played before we started doing that, for which I am very grateful, because my plan involved getting a train to Lyon leaving at 6am on the dot.

To explain what happens next, I need to explain a notable rules difference between the real Jet Lag and this simulation: in our game, the chasers are not a team. They move independently, and they do not know where each other are. Roles do not rotate — you become the runner by personally tagging the current runner.

This is relevant, because it means that one of the chasers is not starting the day in Clermont-Ferrand with me. I have made an educated guess that they are instead waiting at a minor station en-route to Lyon called Vichy, and so as I board the train I post the following message in the chat:

okay so first of all, y'all can tell me if i'm allowed to do this: on the train i'm about to take, i would like to be looking out of the train window at every stop to see if i can spot [Chaser] waiting on the platform can i do that?

There is brief befuddlement from the other players before they eventually agree that this is allowed under the rules. The chaser confirms that they are indeed waiting on the platform at Vichy.

I immediately use the budget I accumulated the previous evening in Clermont to drop a freeze powerup, forcing them to stay on the platform for ten minutes rather than board my train and tag me.

I make it to Lyon unscathed.

Somehow, this is only part one of the gambit.

I have time to do one challenge in Lyon and earn some more budget. Because our map is quite large compared to the ones used on the actual show, transit costs about half as much, so this one challenge could get me all the way to Paris on a high-speed train, but no further. I know that I cannot get out of central Paris without being caught.

Some trains do a weird thing where they split partway through the journey — so all passengers in the front half of the train go to one city, and all passengers in the back half go to another. (This can occasionally cause logistical problems, especially when Deutsche Bahn is involved.) My ride north out of Lyon is one such train: one half goes to Gare de Lyon in central Paris, while the other half - the half I board - goes to a station about twenty miles away called Marne-la-Vallée–Chessy TGV.

This train takes about two and a half hours, and it only switches tracks at the last second, which means the chasers don't realise what I'm doing by the time they get to Lyon, and decide to get on the next train to central Paris, one hour after me...

...which does not split like mine does.

Nor does it make any stops between Lyon and Paris.

The chasers are now stuck one hour behind me, on a train they cannot get off, which is going in the wrong direction.

This is the view outside Marne-la-Vallée–Chessy TGV station:

I have roughly an hour and a half to do challenges at Disneyland Paris.

This accumulates a lot of budget — enough to buy a very expensive powerup and still make it onto another high-speed train that goes all the way to Strasbourg, on the French-German border.

In this time, I realise that the train to Strasbourg I want to take out of Marne-la-Vallée leaves twelve minutes after the chasers could theoretically get here. Luckily, one of the challenges I pull is "get 300m from the nearest building", which a) has a very high reward, b) is possible within walking distance because Disneyland Paris is basically sat in the middle of the French countryside, and c) gives me an excuse to be some distance away from the train station.

Specifically, I position myself to be about nine minutes' walk from it.

As I walk past the very grumpy-looking chaser, who will remain stuck on the platform at Marne-la-Vallée–Chessy TGV while my train to Strasbourg barrels away, I hand them a piece of merch I picked up during my stay:

And that is the story of the single best eight-hour period of any Jet Lag sim I've ever played.

[morhath]

Mid-Year Book Freak Out

@aroaessidhe tagged me let's gooooo

Number of books you’ve read so far: 139

Best book you’ve read so far in 2024: I've reread two previous five-star reads: There Are No Accidents by Jessie Singer and Translation State by Ann Leckie

Best sequel you’ve read so far in 2024: Most of the sequels I've read this year have been rereads and I don't want this whole post to be rereads. Let's say What Feasts at Night by T. Kingfisher and We Speak Through the Mountain by Premee Mohamed.

New release you haven’t read yet but want to: Rakesfall by Vajra Chandrasekera (which I have out from the library right now).

Most anticipated release for the second half of the year: Absolution by Jeff Vandermeer (new Southern Reach!), A Sorceress Comes to Call by T. Kingfisher, and The Sky on Fire by Jenn Lyons.

Biggest surprise favorite new author (debut or new to you): Maybe Ryoko Kui? I, like everyone else, got really into Dungeon Meshi earlier this year. I read the whole manga in like three days. I suppose Seth Dickinson counts in a way, since I bounced HARD off the third Baru book and was pleasantly surprised to find that I really liked Exordia. I also enjoyed "Why Don't We Just Kill the Kid In the Omelas Hole" and might seek out more work by Isabel J. Kim.

Newest fictional crush: I don't think I have any newer than Miles Vorkosigan, who still dates back a couple years.

Book that made you cry: Ancillary Mercy by Ann Leckie. (Reread.) Raven Stratagem by Yoon Ha Lee (the servitor who stays behind...) (Reread.) "Why Don't We Just Kill the Kid In the Omelas Hole". Exordia. Night Watch by Terry Pratchett. (Reread. For some reason, Reg really got me this time around.)

Most beautiful book you’ve bought so far this year (or received): I'M REALLY TRYING NOT TO BUY BOOKS but The Siege of Burning Grass by Premee Mohamed has a cool cover and I preordered it because I looooove her work.

Book that made you happy: Dungeon Meshi, and just about every single reread, which is too many to list.

What books do you need to read by the end of the year?: Uhhhh there's this one about plane crashes I just bought that I'm really excited for, but overall "need" seems a little strong.

I'll tag @agardenandlibrary @longsightmyth @hypokeimena @falliblefabrial and @a-ramblinrose