#colored pages book tours

[novelswithariana]

books I've read in 2023 📖 no. 04

Wren Martin Ruins It All by Amanda DeWitt

“Why does this say”—he turns it around to read it—“Mr. and Mr. Wren and Leo Martin?”

[unconventionalquirkybibliophile]

The Prospects by KT Hoffman Book Tour Post

Check out my Book Tour Post with #ColoredPagesBookTours for #TheProspectsTour

Title: The Prospects Author: KT Hoffman Publisher: The Dial Press (Random House Publishing Group) Publication Date: April 9, 2024 Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance Synopsis: The pressure cooker of minor league baseball leads to major chemistry in this exhilarating, sexy, and triumphant rivals to lovers debut romance. Hope is familiar territory for Gene Ionescu. He has always loved…

[savi0rr]

thought abt viktor and wifey scenarios

- "you're staring!" "I like seeing you happy love"

- matching fits!!

- jayce and mel spying on them obv

- reading tgt!!

- picnic date + stargazing!

- meet jayce and mel? yea!!

- viktor being a softie for his wife and wifey js being the darling she is 🫶

Cozy Wife .ᐟ

Viktor x Fem! Wife! Reader

In which, sitting by the fire with a book can be romantic. If you weren’t being stalked by a nosy duo.

a/n: no one talk to me on Sunday (the eras tour is ending)

≻───── ⋆✩⋆ ─────≺

≻───── ⋆✩⋆ ─────≺

“Dear, which book should we read?” you asked, your fingers gliding over the myriad of titles that crowded the bookshelf. The scent of aged paper and wood filled the cozy room, mingling with the warmth radiating from the crackling fireplace in front of you. Viktor remained silent for a moment, his brow furrowed in concentration as he settled onto a small, soft cushion near the hearth. The dance of the flames cast a gentle flickering light across his thoughtful features. 

“Nothing nerdy,” you added playfully, glancing sideways at him, your eyes sparkling with mischief. Viktor raised an eyebrow in mock indignation and rolled his eyes, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “You pick,” he replied, leaning his crutch against the side of the cushion before resting his arm on his knee with a soft sigh. 

You nodded, your gaze darting to the shelves again. The colorful spines of novels seemed to whisper secrets and stories, each one beckoning for attention. After a brief moment of contemplation, you selected a book with an elegant cover adorned with swirls of gold. “Romance?” you teased, walking over to him with a playful sway in your step, taking a seat beside him, the cushion sinking slightly under your weight. 

Viktor perked up, his curiosity piqued as he tilted his head in your direction. “Romance? Of course…” he muttered under his breath in a tone that was half-annoyed and half-interested. You couldn’t help but giggle, your excitement bubbling over as you curled up next to him, feeling the warmth radiating from his body. 

Slowly, he wrapped his arm around your shoulder, but you noticed his muscles tensed slightly upon the contact of your skin against his. “You’re so dramatic,” you remarked, casting him a sideways glance as you opened the book to the first page, the pages crisp and fresh. 

“I am not,” Viktor shot back quickly, his voice sharp but betraying a hint of humor as he let out a small huff of frustration. You laughed, shaking your head with mirth. “I’m only teasing!” you said, prompting another huff from him. “… Kind of.”

≻───── ⋆✩⋆ ─────≺

Just then, Jayce and Mel poked their heads over the windowsill, their curious eyes shining with interest as they observed the warm scene unfolding. “Oh my,” Mel drawled, raising an eyebrow and smirking at the sight of you and Viktor nestled together. “They look comfy,” she teased, glancing at Jayce, who seemed mesmerized as he focused intently on the two of you, utterly engrossed in the moment.

Leaning your head against Viktor’s shoulder, you let your eyes dance over the text on the page, becoming engrossed in the words. Meanwhile, unbeknownst to you, Viktor was not actually reading; his eyes were fixated on you, mesmerized by the way the light from the fire softly illuminated your features, making your skin glow and your eyes sparkle like precious gems as they reflected the flames. He felt his heart begin to race, causing him to shift slightly on the cushion, a wave of nervous energy coursing through him.

“You okay?” you asked, perking up at his movement and momentarily breaking your focus on the book. Viktor felt his cheeks warm, his pulse quickening under your gaze. “I’m fine, love,” he muttered quietly, briefly diverting his eyes to the book before flicking them back to you. In that moment, your eyes locked, and your hands slowly slipped away from the book to rest in your lap. 

“Do I have something on my face?” you asked softly, tilting your head to the side with a curious expression. Viktor, entranced by your earnestness, remained silent for a heartbeat before gently reaching up to caress your cheek with his thumb, eliciting a flutter of warmth from within you. The world around you seemed to vanish as you both leaned in slowly, drawn together by an invisible thread, feeling the warmth of each other's breath against your lips.

But just as the moment reached its delicate climax, a sudden crash echoed from outside, jolting you both apart. It was Jayce, having lost his balance, who landed unexpectedly on his back with a loud thud, sending an outside seal clattering to the ground beside him. Mel stumbled after him but managed to land gracefully on her feet, her expression a mix of astonishment and amusement. 

“What on Earth?” you muttered in disbelief, both startled and amused as you stood up, your heart racing from both the interrupted moment and the unexpected noise. Viktor’s hands fell away from you as you rushed to the window, peeking outside but finding everything oddly still. “That’s odd,” you grumbled, closing the blinds with a decisive click before walking back to join him on the cushion once more. 

He quickly placed his arm around your shoulder again, his fingers idly toying with the collar of your shirt, his warmth enveloping you once more. “Where were we?” he asked, trying to regain the atmosphere.

≻───── ⋆✩⋆ ─────≺

“You idiot,” Mel called out to Jayce as they both ambled back toward the Academia, her voice laced with lighthearted reproach. Jayce, still on the ground, rubbed his back with a grimace of embarrassment. “I don’t know what happened,” he mumbled, cheeks aflame from the fall and the attention, attempting to mask his discomfort with a nervous chuckle.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

We bullied HP into a minor act of disenshittification

I'm on a 20+ city book tour for my new novel PICKS AND SHOVELS. Catch me TORONTO TOMORROW (Feb 23) at Another Story Books, and in NYC on WEDNESDAY (26 Feb) with JOHN HODGMAN. More tour dates here.

Here in the darkest days of the enshittocene, enshittification is low quality and plentiful, but even in this target-rich environment, one company stands out as pioneering champions of enshittification: HP.

Every page in the enshittification playbook was printed in farcically expensive HP ink, and if you try to run a copy off for yourself, the printer will stop five times and force you to print a "calibration page" that is solid color from top to bottom, consuming about $10 worth of ink. Don't like it? Die mad.

HP drips with contempt for its customers. They make printer-scanners that won't scan unless all four ink cartridges are installed and haven't reached their best-before dates. They make printers that won't print black and white if your $50 magenta cartridge is low. They sell you printers with special half-full cartridges that need to be replaced pretty much as soon as the printer has run off its mandatory "calibration" pages. The full-serving ink you buy to replace those special demitasse cartridges is also booby-trapped – HP reports them as empty when they're still 20% full.

HP tricks customers into signing up for irrevocable subscriptions where you have to pay every month, whether or not you print, and if you exceed your subscription cap, the printer refuses to work, no matter how much ink is left. Now, about those HP ink subscriptions. When the company launched them, they offered a pot-sweetener meant to tempt in the wary: a one-price "lifetime subscription" that would let you print 15 pages every month, for so long as you owned the printer. But a couple years later, all those "free ink for life" customers got an email telling them that they were being migrated to a monthly payment plan, and if they didn't like it, they could eat shit and throw away their printers:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/11/06/horrible-products/#inkwars

HP pioneered the use of copyright law to prevent third parties from refilling ink cartridges or making their own compatible cartridges. Section 1201 of Bill Clinton's Digital Millennium Copyright Act makes it a felony to distribute a "circumvention device" to bypass access controls on a copyrighted work. By designing its cartridges do undertake a little cryptographic handshake with the printer to verify their "authenticity," HP ensures that anyone who markets a bypass device to let you choose which ink you use in your own damn printer is a felon, liable to five years in prison and a $500 fine under DMCA 1201.

Of course, nature finds a way. Hardware hackers have come up with some insanely cool bypass devices for HP printer cartridges, like these paper-thin, flexible, adhesive-backed circuit boards that wrap around third party cartridges, intercepting communications between the printer and a salvaged HP security chip:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/09/30/life-finds-a-way/#ink-stained-wretches

But HP fights back, and they fight dirty. For example, they periodically push out "security updates" for their printers that break compatibility with third party cartridges. To prevent HP customers from discovering and blocking these fake security updates, HP designs them to lie dormant for months after installation, until everyone has clicked "OK," and then all those Manchurian Printers wake up and betray their owners by refusing to use their ink:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2020/11/ink-stained-wretches-battle-soul-digital-freedom-taking-place-inside-your-printer

All of this has allowed HP to monotonically raise – and raise – and raise – the price of printer ink to the point where it is now the most expensive fluid a civilian can purchase without a permit. Printer ink now runs over $10,000/gallon, meaning that you print out your grocery lists with colored water that costs more than the semen of a Kentucky Derby winner.

HP is truly the poster child for enshittification, and also, patient zero in the enshittification pandemic:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/02/18/ink-stained-wretches/#hache-pe

HP's enshittificatory impulses run wild. They hunt relentlessly for ways to make things worse for their customers in order to make things better for themselves. Last week, they came up with a humdinger, even by their own standards. They announced that people who called their customer service line would be subject to mandatory 15-minute waits, even if there was a rep who was free to talk with them:

https://www.theregister.com/2025/02/20/hp_deliberately_adds_15_minutes/

During this mandatory 15-minute wait, customers would be bombarded with a recorded voice demanding that they solve their problems by consulting HP's website and its awful chatbots. In a competitive market, businesses can contain their customer service costs by making better products. In a monopolistic market like the printer racket, companies can deliberately introduce maddening antifeatures to their products, and then fob off the customers who reach such a peak of frustrated rage that they resort to calling a customer support number on chatbot that will use its spicy autocomplete to hallucinate nonexistent drivers and imaginary troubleshooting steps.

When I saw this, I thought, whelp, that's HP all right. Shameless.

But they're not entirely shameless. Within a day of Paul Kunert breaking the story in The Register, HP had reversed its policy, citing "feedback" (a corporate euphemism that means "fury"):

https://www.theregister.com/2025/02/21/hp_ditches_15_minute_wait_time_call_centers/

This is a rare win for the forces of disenhittification and it deserves recognition. It turns out that in these Mangionean times, companies can actually be bullied into comporting themselves with marginally less sleaze and cruelty. It's especially noteworthy that this took place in the UK, where Prime Minister Kier Starmer has invited tech companies to pick Britons' pockets without fear of consequence, by firing the top competition regulator and replacing him with the former head of Amazon UK:

https://pluralistic.net/2025/01/22/autocrats-of-trade/#dingo-babysitter

Even in these degraded times, we can get these fuckers. When Sonos enshittifies its smart speakers, we can get its CEO fired:

https://www.theverge.com/2025/1/13/24342179/sonos-ceo-patrick-spence-resignation-reason-app

When Unity sticks its hand in the pockets of every game dev in the world, we can get its entire executive team shitcanned:

https://venturebeat.com/games/john-riccitiello-steps-down-as-ceo-of-unity-after-pricing-battle/

It doesn't always work. Enshittifiers rack up some Ws, and make bank even as they immiserate 500 million users (looking at you, Steve Huffman – the people have long memories):

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/2023_Reddit_API_controversy

But if we can bully the psychotic monsters who populate HP's Executive Row out of their enshittificatory plans, then it's worth trying it every time.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2025/02/22/ink-spattered-pitchforks/#racehorse-semen

[nashdoesstuff]

NEW [attempted chunky] SKETCHBOOK TOUR BECAUSE I’M FIXATED AND I KNOW I’M GONNA HAVE ART BLOCK BY THE END OF THE WEEK BECAUSE OF ITTTTT

so i bought a plain black journal [specifically the paperage 5.6x8] and. i colored a front, spine, backside, and a first page all in the evening i got it

here’s some pics <3

i got lazy on the back and slapped stickers on it but anyways

added some inspirational messaging that will probably get hidden by the time i’m done with this book

FIRST PAGE YAYA!!!!!!!

uno skip card because it’s impossible for me to draw on this page

CREST SPREAD!!!!!!!!! I’M SO REGULAR ABOUT HIM!!!!!

here are the two pages :3

also the record part spins. btw. which is so exciting to me

AND the playlist thing has two sides, both w songs that relate to him in some way or form <3

OKAY THAT’S ALL FOR NOW BYEEEE runs into the distance /silly

[btw guys. reblogs help more than likes!!! i kind of want to get more recognized for my work/characters so i would really appreciate it if more people rb’d these kinds of posts /nf/np]

[we-stan-the-stans-27]

Axolotl

So we all know about Frilliam, don't we? Ford's pet Axolotl, gifted to him by Fiddleford? In case you don't, here is the journal pages from the website (I think?) to remind you.

Anyway, now that that's out of the way. I was thinking about him today. Specifically about this picture:

I couldn't find the colorized version, but you get the idea. Stanley has a pet Axolotl, but this can't be Frilliam, because Ford released him into the creak!

Well, that's such a shame!

Except this doesn't make any sense. Why would Stanley go out and buy a rather expensive pet for himself? These journal pages are discarded, not part of the journal three.

Now, that doesn't make it impossible for Stanley to have found. Just unlikely.

The missing pages where likely destroyed, considering they returned after Weirdmageddon and the book was made whole. I bet those are the only pages Ford found the strength to burn, his pride and shame winning out over his need to maintain his research. Ever the egotistical man. (We love him)

No, I have a much sadder theory for why Stanley has Frilliam. Because I'm sure that must be the same fish, how could it not be?

My best guess is that, once again, its because of Fiddleford.

What if, hypothetically, Fiddleford found Frilliam back in the creak? Maybe the following spring (we're assuming he survived the winter) Fids was wondering around town, not in a very good state of mind. He didn't really remember Ford, but he got a piece of a memory. And that involved finding this little critter and delivering it...Somewhere.

He can't remember where, but grabs Frilliam in a bucket and just lets his feet lead until he gets to the shack, sets it down, and wanders back off into town, immediately lost again. Very sad.

In comes Stanley, coming outside probably in preparation for another tour or seeing the last one off-

And he finds the bucket, thinks its junk, until he sees the sad and poorly cared for little buddy at the bottom in some shitty water.

It looks so sad, maybe missing its tail, and looks like it might die!

So he brings it inside, because he does still have a tank, and gets him set up. He can't just leave it in a bucket to die, poor little thing. Stan's a little bit of a sucker, but he's also lonely. Sue him.

He can't rationalize having a dog or cat or much of anything. Those cost a lot of money because of the adoption fee, vet bills, and oh my god the food! Way too much if he plans on keeping the lights on and saving Stanford!

But a little lizard? It only costs a few extra cents to run the tank all the time. Barely noticeable. The food isn't much, and the stupid runt is kind of cute, so why not keep some company?

It'll either live, or die from its poor state.

Surprise, surprise. Stanley does such a good job it lives. For. Thirty. Years.

And Stan doesn't ever question how he ended up with an immortal pet that never gets worse despite not getting fed sometimes for weeks at a time. This is Gravity Falls! Weirder things have happened!

Just a theory, and a fun sad little snip-bit. I was just thinking about him today. I love him. So much. We where robbed of the Ford and Frilliam reunion after the portal. Wouldn't that be fun to write a one shot of? Stupid Ford. Realize your brother loves you! He even kept your stupid adorable dumb fish alive for three decades!? They make me mad.

[noxturnalmoth]

Literary Service

Summary: Life is a cruel mother but a great teacher. In Noxus, where life is but an afterthought, war raises its people with an iron fist. Whether they like it or not. So when one is courageous enough to escape, they learn to take all that life has to offer, even if it has to be by the skin of their teeth. What would happen if the scholarship that provided you with an escape made you encounter a man as great with his words as he is with hiding the festering wounds in his heart? And what if he was your teacher?

Warnings: Violence

Word Count: 2,344

Masterlist: here

Chapter 1 - Unintentional Consequences

You'd almost forgotten what a nice breeze felt like. The colors of the world brightening again, trees and grass, the smell of fresh bloodless air fills your lungs and your mind with nothing more than a strong sense of hope. You made it, finally free from the hell that had taken you, broken you, rattled your spirit and made you almost entirely numb. Finally at the entrance gate to ZTC, after recovering from the pain they inflicted on you, the broken bones and attempted broken spirit. You had passed out from the pain and exhaustion after walking all the way to Zaun's border alone. Through gritted teeth, dried blood and tears, you forced yourself closer and closer to the sweet taste of victory. You had run on nothing but hope and the last remains of adrenaline from fighting off those bastards who wanted nothing more than to kill you for having a dream that wasn't war. Someone had found you, taken you in and nursed you to health, your injuries were severe, is what you were told. They'd broken a good bit of your spine and your leg will never be the same again either, which meant you'd need to use a crutch, or on bad days a wheelchair.

There was dread of course, knowing that you'd never be the same, that in the short span of a day you'd lost everything that made you useful to yourself and the people who took you. In Noxus, losing the ability to walk, to fight and protect yourself meant death. But as you're given a crutch and feel the intense pain slightly subside you remind yourself that this isn't Noxus. Not anymore. You had clawed your way to freedom, and of course it would take something from you as a reminder of how you got there. Even with this setback you would not let it ruin your joy or hope for the future you spent so long planning. Even now as you thank the person who saved your life and helped you recover what you could of your body, now changed forever with the aspect of disability, you feel your anger and grief slowly wash away. The blood on your hands stain forever, but you realize that you are doing this not only for yourself, but for the family and friends you'd lost all those years ago.

You double check for the letter in your pocket, exhaling relief when you feel it and taking your first genuine step onto campus. It takes some getting used you, using a crutch on one arm to steady yourself as you make the slow agonizing trek across the paved track. There's so many buildings here, so many people doing things or just sitting around talking to eachother and mingling, loitering without a fear for their lives, laughing and talking carefree and enjoying life in the moment. Your head was spinning, caught between a fear that your past will choose to follow you, and the joy that you finally took your life by the neck and choked it into submission, though now your hands will not need to be washed in blood. Instead, you imagine your fingerprints grazing pages of books, or tapping against the keys of a laptop the good samaritan who saved your life gave you as a final parting gift. You eventually find your way and show the right person your letter, and they regarded you warmly as you were given a free sweatshirt and your schedule. Just like that, you truly made it.

Staring at the schedule in your hand you realize that you have no idea where any of the places are. Since you walked here you missed the tour and another won't happen until the next day, and you aren't going to stand there looking dumb until the sun goes down. You decide that maybe it would be smart of you to ask someone who clearly knows their way around, so you take it upon yourself to carefully and as kindly as possible walk up to the nearest person who looks as if they've seen their fair share of the college night life. They were halfway through pointing out where the dorm rooms were when you felt a hand rest on your shoulder, and without thinking you grabbed onto the wrist of this person and flipped them onto their back, pupils dilated in an instant as your face felt hot and you were moving automatically. Your hands moved on their own, punching, pulling and clawing your way past skin, muscle and nearly to bone. Your mind rushed to that night where you were attacked, the laughing from your attackers and the blood in your mouth. The heavy stone breaking your spine and nearly your spirit. You pull out hair, and tears hot and heavy stream down your face before you have a chance to realize what you were doing. The screams weren't helping, and no one was brave enough to pull you away from this poor person and you continue you destroy the parts of their face you can reach, body on its own while mind tried to reign it in. People run, or cry, or nearly throw up at the blood that covers you and you try so hard to stop yourself, you don't want to be this anymore, you don't want your first impression to be this violent thing that you were forced into being. Beautiful green grass stained red by your hands and with your luck, this will be the first and last time you ever see grass again.

"At Ease." You hear between the screaming and gagging of hundreds surrounding you, and your body stops on command. Like a good little soldier, like the past you want to forget exists, that made you into the animal that ruined this poor victims face. You look at your hands and the person you hurt, the damage was hard to see through the blood, and you feel yourself crudely cracking a smile at the damage before you break down into tears. "On your feet." And you listen, still sobbing through bloodied hands, the metallic smell of violence filling your nostrils and forcing out a louder choked sob as you nearly crumble to your knees again. A gentle hand grabs your wrist and you feel your body tensing again, ready to do whatever it needed to keep you alive again, except you felt too weak to do more damage. You berate yourself in the back of your mind as you let whoever has hold of you walk you away from the crowd, voices of panic and disgust slowly fading while you are led somewhere else entirely and in your head you realize that this is it for you, and you're done for, and your college life started and ended in the span of two minutes. Thoughts going wild as you're sat down by this mystery person, a gentle hand wiping the blood from your hands as you silently weep. Cool cloth getting the flesh from your fingernails before another wipes at your face. Finally feeling the need to move again you take the cloth and clean your own face, dark red essence and tears invisible on the imbibed cloth, which you were so thankful for.

The sound of a lighter sparking takes your attention away from your own horrid thoughts, then the light crackles of a cigarette and exhalation of smoke. A careful hand offers you one, unlit and carefully held by the paper between two pale fingers. You take it, and once it was placed between trembling lips a generous light followed and you take a long drag of it, letting the smoke build up as you think about what you've just done, what you always did and what you were trained to do. The screams and terror filled expressions cloud your vision, the memories you have filled with red, everything red and bloody, the rain a rough scarlet as you claw and break and kill anything in your way. "Holding it in hardly does a thing, you know." The sharp voice tears you from your mind violently. You exhale the smoke you had no idea you were holding in and feel yourself calm down. The aftertaste tells you this isn't a regular cigarette, and you huff in mild amusement. "That was quite a show back there." The voice began, and you turn to face it finally. To say you were surprised is nothing less than an understatement, you have seen horrors but you have never seen skin lined in specific scars tracing from the corner of mouth to temple. Even crazier was the eye that looked at you, a pitch black unblinking thing, with a blood red pupil that seemed to know more of your sins than you would dare tell a soul, and a profile sporting a sharp and featuristic aquiline nose that grabbed attention just as much. "Never have I seen such raw violence. You must be from somewhere particularly destructive on one's mind."

He turns to look at you, the other half of his face a stark contrast, lightly stressed skin with a calm teal eye, yes it still seems to be staring into you and you feel heavily exposed. You start to shake your head, then you nod, finding lying difficult. You are Noxian now, or were, as that was all you could remember after years of trying to hold onto what life was like outside the fiery planes of hell itself. You put the still burning cigarette in your mouth and take a drag, he looks over you carefully before continuing. "I know it was an accident. Violence like that, the following screams of anguish, that is never on purpose." He gestures vaguely to you, the exhaustion is probably obvious on you, and you feel as if he'd called you out on something. You hang your head slightly, and he snuffs out the cigarette he'd lost interest in. "I'll talk to the Principal, and ask the hospital how poor Alex is doing once they finish looking him over." You feel a gentle hand on your shoulder as you take a final quiet drag of the cigarette, finally calm after that horrible few minutes of too many emotions pushing you past that point of no return.

"You need rest, take the remainder of the day off alright? We are right behind the dorm building." He hands you your crutch as you had dropped it during the incident, and you were greatful he decided to take you and your aid out of that situation. You look at him with an apology in your throat, but Noxians do not apologize and that keeps you from saying anything. He simply holds out his hand for you to take, and you do just that, something about him makes you drop guard and follow what he says, which not even your old commanders and generals could get from you. Walking you into the dorms and helping you find the elevators to your floor, and your room. You were glad you chose the single person dorms instead of the group, the size of the room larger than your old sleeping quarters, with a bed that looked to actually fit you. Sitting on the bed and taking everything in, he gives you a brief nod and reaches for the doorknob. "Try not to worry to hard, alright? I know that this is a less than ideal beginning, but everyone starts somewhere. Welcome to Zaun Tech." He leaves, the door closing gently behind him as the sound of his shoes slowly disapears leaving you in solitude with your thoughts. Though you find yourself exhausted once again, and the violent memories fight against Morpheus' embrace as you lay back on the bed and lazily toss clothes off and onto the floor. For once in your life, much to your bitter amusement, the memories lost their battle and you find yourself asleep. You dream of nothing that night, and you thank every God watching over Runeterra for it.

The problem when you fall asleep with no one to wake you is that time slips away. It was peaceful, of course, being able to rest by your lonesome with no one observing you or murmuring in their sleep. Though peace further ruins your already horrible record with this school as you find yourself rushing to whichever class you could make it to, as you slept clean through the first two. Moving as fast as the crutch and the painful limp can allow, you make it to the room as a few people still trickle in and you stop just outside the door to catch your breath. A few faces you remember from the day before, they look at you slightly worried but other than that regard you as someone not worth missing class for. Thankful for the carefree nature of most people already, you gather yourself and walk into the amphitheater. Literature was what was on the schedule, you check the door number three times before finding a seat not too far back from the front of the class, but far enough to where the light doesn't give you a migraine. Once seated you relax a bit, mulling over the idea of what reactions would the teacher of the two previous courses have over your absence. You look to the front towards the projector, mind drifting back to those hours you spent scribing war plans and self absorbed ramblings for narcissists. "Alright," That voice snapping you from your thoughts yet again. He's here, but why? You watch him walk into the room, arms behind his back and a slight dip to his gait. "If everyone is seated, class can begin." He makes eye contact with you, his red eye covered generously with an eyepatch and smiles. No way. You look at your schedule, then back to him. The world seemed to cave in all at once. Mr. Marlowe, your literature teacher, is the man you'd shared a smoke with yesterday.

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Silco Masterlist: here

Arcane Masterlist: here

Navigation: here

[ahistoricdistraction]

Finally finished my binding of my fic, Burn it All Down! So freaking happy with how it turned out. I bought this coverstock long before I'd ever even thought about writing this fic, no idea what I was going to use it for, but it was PERFECT for this. Right now the back cover is the same as the front but without any text. I might still add a quote to the back, but I haven't decided which one yet.

I had originally wanted the stripes to go all the way around, but I didn't have quite enough of the yellow vinyl. I do so love the white vinyl, it's a lovely iridescent color, but I discovered it is a PAIN to weed anything other than large simple shapes like that stripe so I'm not sure how or if I'll use it in the future. It was PERFECT for this, though.

The endpapers are a stock illustration I modified just slightly because I didn't like the jagged edges of the original flames, and I had to extend one side slightly so it would be the right size for the book.

Also, if you would like to bind this fic yourself, you are more than welcome! I've got a folder full of resources here if you want to use my files, but you are welcome to make your own too! Fun fact, if you use the version with 16 page signatures, you'll end up with a handful of blank pages at the end which, if you've read the fic, you might find something to do with once you've got it all printed out and bound up. ;)

Info on the fic:

Read it here.

Rating: E

Summary:

After a few years of living together in New York Alex and Henry's lives are going great, but Queen Mary is an ever looming shadow. When she summons Henry back to England for apology tour for a comment he makes on a podcast, Henry and Alex realize something needs to change. Before they can make that change, though, Henry's plane home from the apology tour crashes in the Canadian wilderness, killing all on board. Or so Alex is lead to believe. Trapped in his grief, he flees back home to Texas to try and start over. And over. And over. He finally settles in a small town at a small lawfirm, but it isn't until he joins the local volunteer fire department that his life starts to finally turn back around. Only Henry isn't dead. In an attempt to both smother his "corrupting influence" but still protect the line of succession until Philip has kids, Mary has had him squirreled away deep in the Australian outback. And, well, it's amazing how often the outback burns, isn't it? Sometimes, it burns so bad, they need help from international firefighters...

[thatchickwiththecamera]

ROOMMATES | Jesse Cash One Shot

Pairing: Jesse Cash x Reader

Warnings: Contains Smut, 18+ Only

Your studio in the house wasn’t the same as the spare rooms Michael and Noah used or the garage space Jesse converted to write and produce music. Your desk and iMac were set up in one corner, with a small makeshift reading nook in the neighboring one by the window. The other half of the room had a couch flanked by two tall reading lamps on either side with miscellaneous shelves and crates of camera gear along with a few spools of various colored backdrop paper hung neatly on the wall. 

You worked as a digital media creator and while you worked in the music industry, your realm of expertise was more in tune with the world of photography, videography, and graphic design as opposed to the actual creation of music like your roommates. You had met the guys through working on a few projects with your friend Orie McGuiness and when he moved out he had vetted you as being the perfect person to take over his portion of the lease. 

Living in a house full of creatives was quite the experience. It wasn’t unusual for one of the guys, mainly Noah or Jesse, to randomly pop in unannounced while you were in the middle of a project. Your studio was sort of neutral ground. It was a place where they could take a break from their own work while still being in a creative environment. They’d come in and inquire about whatever project you were currently working on and you’d take the time to get a fresh eyed opinion on the progress you had made.

Noah would sit on the couch and tell you all about the newest anime he was watching, what artists he and Jolly had recently been hired to write for, or whatever new ideas he, Matt, and Davis had come up with for the next tour. 

With Jesse you’d end up talking about almost anything and everything. One day you’d have a long discussion about something as simple as pro baseball box scores and your mutual appreciation of the Red Sox. Other days you’d talk about things like why Anthony Green has been in so many rock bands, and why Circa Survive was your favorite over Saosin. 

If it was too hot to sit outside, Jesse liked to come in and commandeer your reading corner, claiming that your window had the best natural lighting in the house. Which had also led to a portion of your bookcase being overrun with books Jesse had finished and insisted that you should read next. 

There were many nights where you’d both end up in your studio reading. It was one of your favorite routines that had developed since you had moved in two years prior. Either one of you would be in the chair in the corner and the other would be on the couch, or sometimes, you’d both end up curled up on opposite ends of the couch under the two reading lamps with whatever books you had become engrossed in that week. 

Around six thirty, you heard the door to the studio open. Right on time. 

You looked over from where you sat on the couch to see Jesse walk in with the latest Stephen King novel he was reading wedged under his arm. You slipped your bookmark between the pages of your new Sarah J. Maas bestseller and moved the pile of pillows next to you. He kicked off his shoes and settled into the other end of the couch. You shared a smile before the both of you slipped into a comfortable silence. 

About an hour or so had passed before Jesse reached down and grabbed one of the discarded throw pillows and tossed it toward you. You set your book down and watched as he laid his head against the pillow now propped up against the side of your lap and kicked his feet out, resting them against the opposite end of the couch. Once he was comfortable, he reopened his book and continued reading. You smiled to yourself before resting your arm against the top of the pillow and returning to your own book. 

As you got lost in the pages of the fantasy book, your fingers began absentmindedly fiddling with the mess of curls that peaked over the top of the pillow. Jesse hadn’t cut his hair since the start of the year and the brown coils he usually hid under his favorite black ball cap had grown long and wild over the last six months. 

You found yourself drawn into the rhythm of reading, the soft hum of the air conditioning providing a soothing background noise. Jesse’s presence beside you was comforting, his warmth seeping into your side where he leaned against you.. 

Lost in the world of your book, you almost didn’t notice when Jesse shifted beside you, stretching out his legs a bit more. You looked up instinctively, meeting his eyes briefly before he glanced back down at his book, a small smile playing on his lips. 

"Hey, do you ever wonder if there’s more out there?" Jesse's voice broke the silence, his question unexpected but not entirely out of place given the late-night contemplative mood. 

You considered his question, choosing your words carefully. 

"More in what way?" 

He hesitated, as if searching for the right way to phrase his thoughts. 

"I mean... more than like what we're doing now. More than just work and routines. Like... possibilities we haven’t explored." 

The air between you felt charged, the weight of his words hanging in the small space of your studio. You could feel your heart race a little faster, a mixture of excitement and nervousness bubbling up inside you. But before you could respond, the door to the studio swung open abruptly, startling both of you. 

Noah stood there, grinning mischievously. 

"Hey, sorry to interrupt... but I need Jesse’s help with something. You guys are reading together again, huh? Cute." 

Jesse shot Noah a playful glare, but you could see the slight flush in his cheeks as he quickly straightened up, removing himself from the cozy position against you. 

"Yeah, I'll be there in a sec," he replied, gathering his book and pushing himself off the couch.

"We'll talk more later," he added with a meaningful look before following Noah out of the room. 

Left alone in the wake of their departure, you let out a sigh of mixed emotions. It seemed every time the atmosphere between you and Jesse began to hint at something more, it was swiftly interrupted or diverted. The unresolved tension lingered in the air like an unfinished melody, leaving you wondering what could have been said if only there had been a few more moments of silence. 

With a shake of your head, you returned to your book, though your mind kept wandering back to Jesse’s question and the unspoken connection between you. 

—

A few days passed and you hadn’t seen Jesse much. He was busy fine tuning the last few guitar riffs and lyric ideas he had in preparation for when he met with the rest of the ERRA boys to track their new album the next week. 

It was a little after two in the afternoon when you emerged from your studio and shuffled your way downstairs to the kitchen. You hadn’t planned on working as long as you had that morning, but you had found yourself locked in on your most recent project and had lost track of time. You hadn’t realized how late it was until your stomach started growling from lack of food. 

You popped a snack plate of leftovers in the microwave to reheat and decided to knock out some of the dishes that were left in the sink from earlier in the day when the guys had made their morning coffee. You were drying Noah’s white ‘Shuh Da Fuh Cup” mug when you heard the sound of the sliding glass door open. 

You looked up to see a shirtless Jesse walk in wearing a pair of athletic shorts and sneakers. His curly hair was damp and his upper body glistened with a layer of sweat from working in the backyard all morning under the blazing California sun. Living with three guys, you were very much used to seeing the guys lounge about and walk around the house in various states of undress. 

But your eyes couldn’t help but follow his form as he walked through the kitchen. Noticing the details of the familiar tattoos that adorned his stomach, chest and arms as he grabbed a clean glass from the drying rack next to you and filled it with water from the tap. 

He leaned back against the island where you were standing and raised the glass to his lips. Adam’s apple bobbing with each gulp. The colors of the flower on his right hand were highlighted as his long fingers wrapped around the glass. Your mind started to drift and you couldn’t help but wonder what that hand might feel like wrapped around your throat. 

“Enjoying the view?” He asks. 

The sound of his voice snapped you out of your thoughts. You’d been caught and felt a blush start to creep across your face. 

Your eyes flicker to his and he smirks at you in amusement before downing the last of the water. The smell of sweat mixed with his body wash filled your nose as he reached around you to place the empty glass in the sink. You could feel the heat radiate off his sun kissed skin.

His face came dangerously close to yours, eyes never breaking contact. You roll your eyes and he sends you a playful wink before making his way out of the kitchen and toward the stairs, presumably up to his room to shower. 

You stood there for a moment trying to process what had just happened before you were startled by the sound of the microwave over the stove. With a sigh you retrieved your food and retreated back upstairs to continue working.

As you returned to your studio, the encounter with Jesse in the kitchen replayed in your mind like a scene from a movie. His casual remark about enjoying the view left you flustered, but you couldn’t deny the thrill it sent through you. Jesse had always had a playful, teasing side, but lately, it seemed his interactions with you held a subtle undercurrent that made your heart race.

Back at your desk, you tried to refocus on your work, but your thoughts kept drifting. You found yourself glancing at the doorway, half-expecting Jesse to reappear, yet knowing he was likely downstairs working in his studio by now. The memory of his closeness, the scent of his sweat mixed with the faint trace of his cologne lingered in your memory. 

The afternoon sun cast warm hues through the window, illuminating the room in a comforting glow. You tried to lose yourself in editing photos, tweaking colors and compositions, anything to distract you. But every now and then, your mind would wander back to his question from a few days earlier. The one about possibilities unexplored, about more than just the routine of work and friendship.

Hours passed in a blur. The sun dipped lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the room. You glanced at the clock and realized it was nearly time for dinner. With a sigh, you saved your work, shut down your computer, and stretched out your stiff limbs. 

In the kitchen, you found Noah already cooking up something, dancing and singing to a song that blasted from the bluetooth speaker on the island. He greeted you with a grin and a teasing comment about being lost in your work again. You chuckled in response, helping him set the table as you exchanged small talk about the day.

Soon, Jesse sauntered in, dressed casually in a worn band tee and joggers. His hair was still a little damp from his earlier shower, curls slightly tamed, and he greeted you with a genuine smile. 

You couldn’t help but notice the ease with which he moved around the kitchen, effortlessly sliding into conversations with Noah about the new songs they were working on.

Dinner passed in a haze of laughter and shared stories. It was just you, Jesse, and Noah since Michael was off spending the weekend with his girlfriend. The familiar banter and camaraderie among the three of you was comforting. 

After dinner, you cleared the table together, rinsing dishes and stacking them in the dishwasher. Jesse volunteered to dry, and you handed him plates and glasses with a smile, trying to ignore the way your fingers brushed against each other’s.

As you finished up in the kitchen, Noah excused himself to take a call from Matt about one of the band’s upcoming studio sessions. Jesse leaned against the counter, watching you quietly with that thoughtful look that always made your heart skip a beat.

"So," he finally said, breaking the silence, "did you get much done today?"

You nodded, a nervous energy tingling in your fingertips. "Yeah, I made good progress. How about you? Productive day in the backyard this morning?"

Jesse chuckled, setting down the dish towel and stepping closer to you. "Yeah, it was alright. Hot as hell out there, though."

You laughed softly, feeling the proximity between you like a magnetic pull. "I can imagine."

He hesitated for a moment, his gaze dropping to the floor before lifting to meet yours again. 

“Listen, about earlier... in the kitchen."

Your heart skipped a beat, anticipation and uncertainty swirling in your chest. 

"Yeah?"

He took a deep breath, his expression earnest yet guarded. 

"I just... I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable or anything. I was just teasing."

You shook your head, smiling softly. 

"It’s okay, Jesse. I know."

There was a pause, his eyes searched yours, as if trying to decipher something hidden beneath the surface. You held your breath, waiting for him to say something more. 

But before either of you could speak, the sound of footsteps echoed down the stairs, signaling Noah’s return. The moment shattered and Jesse stepped back, running a hand through his curls.

Noah announced he was headed out for the evening. He had to go to their friend Davis’ house to work on finalizing the designs for the next few merch drops and some visual ideas for the band’s upcoming tour. 

With Noah's departure, the house suddenly felt quieter. You and Jesse exchanged a glance, a flicker of something unspoken passing between you before you turned back to finish drying the last few dishes.

"I should probably go and finish up the track I’m working on," Jesse finally broke the silence, his tone casual but his eyes lingering on you.

"Yeah, I've got a few things to wrap up myself," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady despite the nerves dancing in your stomach.

As you moved toward the stairs, a sudden loud rumble of thunder startled you. You glanced out the window to see dark clouds rolling in, blotting out the remnants of daylight. The distant flash of lightning illuminated the room, casting eerie shadows across the walls.

"Looks like we're in for a storm," Jesse remarked, his voice low. 

"Yeah, seems like it," you agreed, feeling the tension in the air thicken with the impending storm.

You retreated to your studio upstairs while Jesse headed to the garage. The sound of rain started as a soft patter against the window, gradually building into a steady downpour. You tried to focus on your work, the glow of your computer screen casting a faint light across the dim room. 

Minutes turned into hours as the storm raged outside, the occasional flash of lightning and rumble of thunder punctuating the night. The power flickered once, twice, before finally plunging the house into darkness. The sudden quiet was almost deafening, the absence of the hum of appliances and electronics leaving you acutely aware of the sound of your own breathing.

You sat back in your chair, momentarily stunned by the abrupt darkness. You reached for your phone, activating its flashlight to navigate your way downstairs.

As you made your way downstairs the light from your phone cast eerie shadows against the record plaques and framed tour posters hung along the wall. The power outage seemed to have affected the entire neighborhood, plunging everything on the block into darkness.

Navigating carefully through the hallway, you headed towards the kitchen where you knew there were candles stored for situations like this. As you rounded the corner, you nearly collided with Jesse, who seemed to be on the same mission.

"Shit! Sorry!" he exclaimed, steadying you with a gentle hand on your arm. "Didn't mean to scare you."

"It's okay," you replied, heart still racing from the unexpected encounter. "Just looking for some candles."

"Yeah, same here," Jesse said, his voice low. "I think they're in one of these..."

Together, you searched through various drawers, finally locating a cabinet of miscellaneous colored and scented candles. He lit a few and placed them strategically around the kitchen, casting a soft, flickering light that danced across his features. 

You struggled to reach where the emergency lantern sat on the top shelf in the kitchen cabinet and had to resort to climbing up on the counter to grab it. You felt a hand ghost your lower back steading your movements as you lowered yourself to a sitting position on the counter top, legs dangling over the side. You handed the lantern off to Jesse. 

"Thanks," you murmured, he lit the lantern and set it beside you on the counter. 

“No problem,” he replied, voice husky in the quiet room. 

The warm glow illuminated his features, making his eyes sparkle with a mixture of amusement and something deeper. He moved closer and stood between your legs, hands resting against the counter on either side of where you sat, his gaze locking with yours. His eyes scanned your face looking for a sign to stop as he leaned closer. The air between you crackled, the charged atmosphere inside mirroring that of the storm outside. 

Your noses brushed against each other, breath intermingling for a moment before the remaining distance between you vanished. The kiss was tentative at first, a soft exploration of lips meeting in the dim candlelight. But as the moment stretched, the intensity between you grew, fueled by the proximity and the emotions that had been simmering beneath the surface for so long.

His lips were warm against yours, a contrast to the cool touch of his fingers on your skin. The kiss deepened, becoming more urgent, both of you had been waiting for the moment, this acknowledgment of the desire that had been building between you.

Time seemed to stand still in that moment, the storm outside forgotten as you melted into each other's embrace. One of his hands ran up your arm and rested against the side of your neck as the other slid around your waist, pulling you closer until there was no space left between your bodies. Your hands found their way into his mess of curls. The scent of his aftershave mingled with the subtle aroma of wax and rain, the mixture of smells enveloping you both.

When you finally broke apart, breathless and flushed, Jesse rested his forehead against yours, his fingers tracing gentle patterns on the exposed skin of your thigh. The silence around you was profound, broken only by the soft crackle of the candles and the distant rumble of thunder.

His eyes darkened as a flash of lightning illuminated his face through the window. His lips connected with yours once more and he lifted you from the counter, your legs wrapping around his waist as he carried you toward the couch in the adjoining living room. 

You sat straddling his lap as his hands found their way under your shirt. You lifted your arms and the article was quickly cast aside. His own shirt soon followed. You ran your hands over the tattoos of the chieftess and eagle across his chest and the roaring tiger that covered his stomach. His arm snaked around your back and unhooked the clasp of your bra before throwing the article on the floor. 

He rolled you off his lap and positioned you so you were now laying down on the couch. He crawled between your legs and hooked his fingers under the waistband of your shorts. You lifted your hips, allowing him to slide them off along with your underwear. 

He stood up and discarded his joggers and briefs before settling back down between your legs. Your hands shot up and covered your face realizing how exposed you now were. 

He reached up and softly grabbed your hands and pulled them away from your face.

“Don’t you ever try to hide from me, Darlin.” he said, planting kisses along the backs of each before placing them above your head, securing them in place with his left hand. “I want to see that pretty face as I watch you come undone.” 

He planted another tender kiss upon your lips and watched you react as he ghosted his fingers over your core. 

You let out a shaky breath as he gently slipped a finger inside and fell into a steady rhythm before adding another. You struggled against his grip as his thumb rubbed against your clit. His movements never stopped even as he started planting kisses across your throat and chest.

He took one of your breasts in his mouth. Your head snapped back against the pillow behind you at the added sensation when he bit the sensitive bud of your nipple before soothing the pain with the pad of his tongue. 

With each move his eyes looked up at you, watching as your face contorted with pleasure, letting out shaky breaths and moans from the stimulation. He left a trail of wet kisses down your stomach and he released your hands as he kissed your inner thigh. 

“Oh, Fuck!” You gasped, hands quickly finding their way into his curls as his tongue flicked over your clit before biting and sucking on the bundle of nerves. 

The pleasure in your voice made his dick twitch and flipped a switch in him. He devoured you like a starved man and it drove you over the edge. You felt the familiar feeling of an orgasm build and tighten like a knot in your stomach. You tried to move your hips to match his movement but he firmly held you in place, leaving you writhing under his grasp. 

“Jesse” you whined. 

His name sounded like a prayer on your lips as you grew closer to your climax, and he was there to worship you with his whole being. The knot snapped and your hands tightened their grip through his now tangled curls. But he didn’t stop, continuing his physical praises as the orgasm washed over you like a flood. 

You let out a whimper from the absence as he made his way back up your body and planted another searing kiss against your lips.You wrapped your arms around his neck pulling him deeper into the kiss. 

“Fuck, this is better than I dreamed.” he said with a sigh before kissing you again.

He pulled back, letting out a gasp as he felt your hand reach down between the two of you and grab hold of his cock. You watched as he shut his eyes and let out a shaky breath as your thumb swiped away a bead of precum from the tip. His breathing became sporadic as you worked your way over the sensitive member. 

He had enough of your teasing. You gripped his arms, nail leaving indentations against the tattooed skin as he gently slid the head into your entrance,  pausing for a moment to allow you to adjust before sinking the rest of the way. He wrapped your legs around his hips and pressed his forehead against yours, eyes locked, as he thrusts faster, harder, deeper.

You moved your hips to match his thrusts as you both chased your highs together. Your eyes flutter closed as you feel that familiar pressure begin to build once more. 

“Look at me, darlin,” he commanded. “Look at me when I’m fucking you.” 

Your eyes snap back open, his words making your eyes almost roll back in added pleasure. His pupils were blown with ecstasy making his light brown eyes almost appear black in the candlelight. He picks up his pace with a grunt. You pull him close, wrapping your arms around his middle, snaking a hand up through his hair, giving a gentle tug as his hips snap into you. 

“Fuck, Jess.” you cry. “I’m so close…”

“Doing so good for me, darlin.” he praises through gritted teeth. 

You moan against his mouth as he slots his lips against yours in another deep kiss. 

White flashes line the edges of your vision as you cry out in pleasure. Jesse buries his face in your neck as he fucks you through your orgasm, his breath shaking as chases his own not long after. 

As your breathing finally returns to normal, he stands up and pads over to the kitchen, taking his added warmth with him. The cool air in the house washes over you despite the storm also knocking out the A/C. He returns a moment later with a clean damp washcloth for the both of you.

He disappears upstairs for a moment before returning dressed in a pair of his briefs like how he usually sleeps with a folded up white t-shirt in his hand.

He motions for you to raise your arm and slips the oversized shirt over your head. It's his favorite shirt with a map of Alabama record stores on the front. 

“Damn, you look good in my shirt.” he states, pulling you up from the couch and kissing your forehead. You wrap your arms around his middle as he holds you close.

A mischievous smile then slides across his face. He bends down and wraps his arms around your thighs, throwing you over his shoulder. 

“Goddammit, Jesse!” you exclaim, hitting his lower back with your fists. 

His hand smacked your bare ass peeking out from under the shirt as he carried you up the stairs and into his room. He threw you onto his unmade bed before climbing on after you, pullig you flush against him, and tossing the discarded comforter over your bodies.

He wrapped his arms around you and nuzzled his face into your hair. You happily laid like this for a few moments, both of your energy spent from the activities downstairs. 

“Hey, Jess?” you ask. 

“Hmm?” he replies, voice muffled by his face pressed against your neck. 

“You ever wonder if there’s more out there?” You ask, referring back to your unfinished conversation from the other night.

You felt him smile. 

“I used to.” He replied. 

“What changed?” You asked, turning now to face him. 

“I met you.” He replied simply, before pulling him toward you and wrapping his arms around you. 

You rested your head against his chest and snuggled into him further. 

He continued, “Everything I need is right here.”

You lay like this wrapped up in each other’s embrace for the next hour or so before the lull of the moment is broken by the sound of the front door and Noah’s familiar voice breaking through the silence after he stumbles upon the pieces of clothing you had left behind. 

“I fucking knew it!” 

[novelswithariana]

🌸 ARIANA'S BOOK REVIEW 🌸

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐/5

Genre: Young Adult, Romance, Contemporary, LGBT (Ace Representation)

📚 Synopsis: Now that Wren Martin is student council president (on a technicality, but hey, it counts) he’s going to fix Rapture High. His first order of business: abolish the school’s annual Valentine’s Day Dance, a drain on the school’s resources and general social nightmare—especially when you’re asexual.

His greatest opponent: Leo Reyes, vice president and all-around annoyingly perfect student, who has a solution to Wren’s budget problem. A sponsorship from Buddy, the anonymous “not a dating” app sweeping the nation. Now instead of a dance-less senior year, Wren is in charge of the biggest dance Rapture High has ever seen. He’s even secretly signed up for the app. For research, of course.

But when Wren develops capital F-Feelings for his anonymous match, things spiral out of control. Wren decided a long time ago that dating while asexual wasn’t worth the hassle. With the Dance rapidly approaching, he isn’t sure what will kill him first: the dance, his relationship drama, or the growing realization that Leo’s perfect life might not be so perfect after all.

In an unforgettably quippy and endearingly chaotic voice, narrator Wren Martin explores the complexities of falling in love while asexual.

📝 Review: I recently had the pleasure of diving into the captivating world of "Wren Martin Ruins It All" by Amanda Dewitt, and I must say, it did not disappoint. From the very first page, I was hooked by Dewitt's impeccable storytelling and relatable characters.

In this delightful novel, we follow the journey of Wren Martin, the witty and ambitious student council president of Rapture High. Wren's mission to abolish the infamously dreaded Valentine's Day Dance at his school sets the stage for a series of hilarious mishaps and unexpected romantic entanglements. But "Wren Martin Ruins It All" is so much more than a comedic high school romance.

Dewitt skillfully weaves in the complexities of love, relationships, and the journey of self-discovery. One of the standout aspects of this book is its refreshing portrayal of asexuality. Wren's exploration and acceptance of his identity as an asexual individual is thoughtfully depicted, shedding light on a topic that is often misunderstood or overlooked.

What truly sets "Wren Martin Ruins It All" apart is the authenticity of its characters. Dewitt has created a diverse cast that is brimming with personality and relatability. From the charming Leo, Wren's vice president, to the quirky and lovable members of the student council, each character feels like someone you could know in real life.

The writing style employed by Dewitt is energetic, humorous, and infused with heart. The pacing is spot on, keeping the reader engaged and eagerly turning the pages. Whether it's the witty banter between characters or the tender moments of self-reflection, the prose effortlessly captures the essence of each scene.

At its core, "Wren Martin Ruins It All" is a story about embracing who you truly are, navigating the highs and lows of teenage life, and learning that sometimes, it's okay to let go and allow yourself to be vulnerable. It's a powerful and heartwarming reminder that love takes many forms, and self-discovery is a journey worth embarking on.

Overall, I highly recommend "Wren Martin Ruins It All" to anyone in search of a captivating and relatable read. Amanda Dewitt has crafted a gem of a novel that seamlessly combines humor, romance, and important themes, leaving a lasting impression. Don't miss out on this delightful book that will make you laugh, swoon, and maybe even shed a tear or two.

🔍 Rec: People who have read ‘The Borrow A Boyfriend Club’ (Page Powars), ‘They Hate Each Other’ (Amanda Woody) and ‘Gwen & Art Are Not In Love’ (Lex Croucher) may like this book.

Thank you Amanda DeWitt, Peachtree Teen and Colored Pages Book Tours for this delightful read. All opinions expressed here are purely my own.

🦋 Recommend some books with Ace Representation in the comments.

[whimsicaldragonette]

Blog Tour and ARC Review: By Any Other Name by Erin Cotter

Welcome to my stop on the By Any Other Name book tour with Colored Pages Blog Tours. (This blog tour is also posted on my wordpress book blog Whimsical Dragonette.)

Book info:

TITLE: By Any Other Name AUTHOR: Erin Cotter PUBLISHER: Simon & Schuster Books for Young Readers RELEASE DATE: October 10, 2023 GENRES: Young Adult, Historical Fiction, Fantasy PAGES: 464 REPRESENTATION: Queer MCs

Goodreads StorygraphBlackwellsAmazonBarnes & NobleBookshop USOther Retailers

Synopsis:

A down-on-his-luck actor and an English lord reluctantly team up to solve the murder of Christopher Marlowe in this Shakespearean-era young adult romp perfect for fans of F.T. Lukens and Mackenzi Lee.

London, 1593. Sixteen-year-old Will Hughes is busy working on Shakespeare’s stage, stuffing his corsets with straw and pretending to be someone else. Offstage, he's playing a part, too. The son of traitors, Will is desperate to keep his identity secret—or risk being killed in the bloody queen’s imperial schemes. All he wants is to lay low until he earns enough coin to return to his family.

But when his mentor, the famous playwright Christopher Marlowe, is murdered under mysterious circumstances, Will’s plans are hopelessly dashed. What’s worse, Marlowe was a spy for the queen, tasked with stalking a killer rumored to be part of an elusive order of assassins, and his secrets and untimely death have put Will under a harsh spotlight. And so, when Will unwittingly foils an attempt on the queen’s life, she names him her next spymaster.

Now, to avoid uncomfortable questions, prison, or an even more terrible fate, Will reluctantly starts his new career, which—yes—will secure him the resources to help his family…but at what cost? Adding insult to injury is the young Lord James Bloomsbury, Will’s new comrade in arms, whose entitled demeanor and unfairly handsome looks get under Will’s skin immediately.

Together, the two hunt the cunning assassin, defend the queen’s life, and pray to keep their own...all while an unexpected connection blossoms between them.

Author Bio:

Erin Cotter writes young adult fiction. Originally from Buffalo, New York, she currently calls Austin home. When not writing she spends time with her partner and pets, eating tacos, and searching for Golden-cheeked Warblers in the Texas Hill Country.

Author Links:

Goodreads WebsiteInstagram

My Rating: ★★★★

*My Review, Favorite Quotes, and Tour Schedule below the cut.

My Review:

I can’t give this five stars because I didn’t love it and I definitely wouldn’t read it again, but it absolutely deserves four for how very much I didn’t love the setting - purely a case of personal preference - and at the same time how much I loved the characters. It takes skill to pull such a visceral response of dislike from me and at the same time endear the characters to me so strongly.

The thing I like least about this book, and the thing that makes me admire the skill of the author the most, is the rawness of life in this medieval world. These characters live in filth. They are accustomed to it. Humanity here, from the aristocrats to the peasants, is only a step away from animals. Life is unpredictable, brutal, full of disease and filth and crassness and betrayal. And no one bats an eye.

It reminds me of Catherine Called Birdy (a book I still vividly remember viscerally hating when I had to read it for school all those years ago) in the way it portrays a world of casual brutality and scrabbling in the mud for a life. Honestly it’s probably at least in part a bit of germaphobia that makes me hate this world so.

Will and his friends go through so much over the course of the novel, and there are so many plot twists, that I was constantly surprised by events and by their tenacity and determination to survive. I never saw a single thing coming in the course of the assassination and murder investigation. I could see, after each piece had fallen into place, exactly how it fit, but not how it got there.

The characters and events were melodramatic and sometimes strained credulity, but it all fits with the underlying theme of plays and players. Shakespeare and Marlowe are even characters. Will begins as an actor playing girls on stage in Marlowe's plays, and he keeps all of those actor characteristics to his personality throughout the story.

Will is likable no matter his selfishness and many faults, and i found myself continually rooting for him and his star-crossed love. And I came away loathing the nobility, especially Elizabeth. Her court was rotten and she was the worst of them all.

The way the story played out was very satisfying and wrenched a lot of feelings from me. Not least of which was the conviction that I absolutely positively never want to visit this world.

Seriously though, James' sister Catherine deserved so much better. Her part of the story is the one thing that really disappointed me.

*Thanks to NetGalley, Colored Pages Blog Tours, and Simon and Schuster Books for Young Readers for providing an early copy for review.

Favorite Quotes:

Goddamn it. I’ve been trying not to let these two become my friends, but they became my friends anyway.

---

Whatever lack of experience Bloomsbury claims he has, his inspired performance as the most vexing person I’ve ever met is certainly coming from somewhere.

---

To hell with Marlowe and Bloomsbury and all the other people who tug me into their dark intrigues and give me no lantern to light my way. I am tired of being left in the dark.

---

“We don’t need your coin!” Maggie snarls. “’Tis coin. We always need coin,” Inigo amends in a small voice.

---

Should I fail, the stakes are dire; impersonating a man of the noble class is a crime punishable by death. Though to be fair, most of the crimes in England are punishable by death.

---

’Tis a brave and dangerous thing to go about this world having dreams. A dream is even more fickle and fleeting than a life.

---

“So we’re not here to have fun?” I say, to be cetain I’m understanding Foxwell correctly. Because it very much appears as though we’re in the midst of fun.

---

’Tis Reamonn, the swashbuckling pirate lad. He prickles with knives like an adorable, bloodthirsty hedgehog.

Tour Schedule:

October 4th

@monikasbookblog - Review + Favorite Quotes

raavenreads - Review Post

October 5th

Yourlocalbookreader - Review + Reel

@monarchsandmyths - Review + Favorite Quotes

October 6th

_perpetualpages_ - Review Post

Whimsical Dragonette - Review + Favorite Quotes

October 7th

ofpagesandprint - Review + Reel

@moyashi_girl - Review Post

October 8th

@poatic.library - Review + Reel

@gingerly_reading - Review Post

October 9th

Readreviewcoffee - Review + Favorite Quotes

Spacey Ghost - Review Post

October 10th

​​@rubyraereads - Review Post

Bangalimeyreads - Review + Reel

[hybridhideoutstory]

CHAPTER 2

Payton could feel themself shifting in their bed, stirring and tossing around. “Woah” they thought in their groggy state. “That was one of the weirdest dreams I’ve ever had in my life.” They heard knocking on their bedroom door. 

“Oh my gosh.” Payton thought “it’s Sunday. I gotta get ready to see my grandparents. They got up and rushed to the door. “I can’t wait to see grandma and grandpa, wonder what sweets and treasures they have for me this week.” They opened the door and low and behold,

It was Omf, they Young Adult novel hybrid 

“Good morning Pay Pay! :] ready for the-“

They slammed the door in his face.

They rushed to their bed and grabbed the orange stained pillow from last night’s sobbing session, then promptly screamed bloody murder into it. Of course! This stupid dream was real it was all real! There’s no escape from Lizard boy and his crazy Hybrid shenanigans. They walked back to the door and opened it again to see that Omf was still standing in the doorway as cheery as the when the door was served to him.

He cleared his throat, “Good morning Pay Pay! :] ready for the tour?”

“I’m ready to kill myself right about now…” 

“NOOO!!! :[! No no no! Look I know this is hard for you but the hideout is gonna be great alright??? You’re gonna be okay a promise!” He peered into Payton’s room and saw a gift basket sitting on their nightstand. He walked in and held it up

“Look! You got some goodies! Isn’t that fun? ,:]”

“I did not say you could enter my room.”

He sat on the ledge of the bed and invited Payton the sit with him. “It’s just a smart idea to have someone who knows things help you go through this, there could be important stuff I here!” He started shuffling through the basket wondering what Payton was given. 

 Payton protested. “Hey that’s my new stuff!” 

“I’m just checking if something is in here. Aha! Yes I found it!” He held out a pamphlet that looked like an advert for a children’s story time at the local library. It was all cutesy with bright colors and “How to Care for Me! A Hybrids’s care book!” Written in rainbow comic sans. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me…”

Payton reluctantly flipped through the pages, which had random care facts that seemed to be answered by someone writing in a pink glitter pen. For example, the pamphlet would ask, “And to eat my hybrid needs…” and Pink Pen would reply with, “No food, No water, Nothing except for paint, if the hybrid loses too much paint the poor thing dies. Just make sure it eats Acrylic and drinks some watercolor so it can be healthy.” 

“Jesus Christ…”

“Hey >:[!”

Payton flipped through even more, each page felt more dehumanizing Than the next, Payton wasn’t vibing with the way Pink Pen referred to them as an “it”.

“For fun my hybrid can do…” “NO WATER!!!! Water will KILL it when the water distills in the paint. Absolutely NO water unless it’s mixed in with watercolor paint. No swimming!!!” 

Payton was on the verge of orange tears again, no swimming, no normal showers, they couldn’t even eat their favorite foods anymore! Omf was constantly over their shoulder trying to absorb the information from the pamphlet. 

“Hey!” He rummaged through Payton’s gifts again. “Whoever sent you all this gave you some paints! If your hungry that is.” 

“You know what?” Payton said trembling. “Fine! You know my life basically screwed now anyway!” Orange started to bead from their eyes. “Might as well drink this, whatever the hell harvest red color is! That’s just what freaks like me need to stay alive haha…!” They uncapped the paint and brought it up to their mouth and started eating. 

Surprisingly, the paint didn’t taste like anything chemical or the sorts. It tasted like crisp apples and cherries, it was delicious. 

“Holy… what the…”

“What’s wrong?” Omf asked

“Nothing it just- tastes good?” 

“Ooo lemme try! :]” Omf Without thinking took Payton precious food and took a swig. He quickly spit is out just as fast as he chugged it. 

“It just tastes like paint!” He cried as he coughed as spat the paint all over Payton’s bed. 

“Ew stop that! Not on my bed! Stop gaging all over my goddamn bed!” 

“I’m sorry :[“ He said. “I’ll just be outside. When your ready for the tour just come outside. He then left Payton alone in their room. 

Payton was left to contemplate more things in their room. Now they wish that had swam in their local pool more often, because they couldn’t do that anymore. Also, why did that paint taste like a delicious combination of fresh red fruit? Does all paint taste like that? Or does the flavor change with each color? They didn’t want to think about any of this at the moment, it was hurting their head. They figured it was best to distract themself from their misfortune.

Payton opened the door. “Okay Lizard boy” they said as if the first Thirty minutes of the day had exhausted them. “What are you going to show me first?” 

Omf perked up, wagging his tail. “O O I CAN SHOW YOU THE ARCADE :]>!!!” He grabbed Payton by the blue hand and sprinted with them to the elevator. “WOAH!” Payton shouted. “SLOW DOWN!” 

Omf practically slammed the poor kid into the elevator wall and clicked one of the big red buttons. The label next to this one saying “arcade”. The two descended, or ascended? Payton couldn’t tell. 

The door dinged at they were in a maze of mechanical marvels. Tons of games and machines of the sort lit up the room. Payton felt they they were in the Dave n Busters headquarters. “Pretty OMFTASTIC huh?” Said omftastic Omf. The two wandered along in the neon paradise for a bit. Payton noticed other kids playing around in the arcade. 

“Who are these kids?” Asked Payton. 

“They’re other hybrids of course silly! Not all hybrids look as hybrid as you y’know. Though most of these guys must be video game hybrids, there’s been a spike of those lately from what I’ve heard.” 

“Woah.” Payton paused. “There can be more than one hybrid of something?” 

“Yeah pretty much.” Omf said. “Human teens are more susceptible to certain demigod possessions. Also kinda depends on the demigod too y’know. Like for example, I don’t think the one that got you is very fond of hybrids. That explains why your the only one of your kind.”

“Wow. I feel so special.” Payton said sarcastically. 

“Hey don’t be like that…we still don’t know what your fully capable of.” 

Payton scoffed. “What could paint to anyway? Make whatever I paint come to life?”

“Hmmm” Omf scratched his beard, or what can barely be considered a beard. “That sounds possible, but not really effective in combat.” 

“Gee, thanks.” 

Suddenly a kid popped up from behind Payton and tried to whack the living color out of them with a cheap plastic sword that was so amazing that the green light started to die. 

“Hey!” Omf shouted. “What is wrong with you? >:[!”

“Level up!” Said the kid before he ran off he spoke like he was trapped in a PlayStation 1, but other than that he damn near looked exactly human. 

Payton got up grasping their head. “God… what, what was that.”

“You just got hit in the head by one of the kids.”

“Oh so he thinks he’s hot stuff?” Payton claimed in a daze. “Well what’s his stick gonna do against a gun? God I wish I had a gun.” 

“Okay… maybe we should move on to the next part of the tour…” Omf picked Payton up by the shoulders and took them to the elevator. 

The elevator dinged. “This is our next stop!” Omf said cheerily. “It’s my favorite:]!” Payton observed that they were in a training Dojo. There were dummies and weapons all over the place. Omf picked up a sword from one of the racks. He sighed dreamily as he looked around and sniffed the air with his lizard nose as if he was on a hiking trip to the great glorious outdoors. “Awesome ain’t it?”

“No” Payton responded flatly.

“>:0! Uh well your gonna be spending a lot of time here Pay Pay, after all, Luna said your gonna be on patrol! Which means you have to train with me! And I’m gonna be the best trainer you’ve ever seen got it?”

“ ‘Kay” 

“I- uh oh…” Omf sounded defeated but he didn’t push Payton any further. “Let’s… let’s go somewhere else now.” 

When Payton and Omf got off the elevator again, they were In a massive movie theatre. “This is the hideout movie theatre!” Omf exclaimed. “Since hybrids can’t really go out and see the latest stuff, we ask the demigod of cinema to supply us with all the all the latest films. Plus you can basically ask for any movie one night and they’ll play it for you in the theatre. It’s awesome, and all the snacks… are free…. >:].” 

Payton was amazed. Now THIS was something they could vibe with. Imagine all the sick film dates they could take Lynn on. Or all the dumb comedies they could watch with their friends. Just how many memories they could make with their friends. Oh right, they could never talk to them again. 

“Uh… this is neat I guess. I’ve been meaning to see that new My girlfriend is a goth Vampire movie… I was… gonna watch it with my girlfriend.” 

“Oh… :D.” Omf suddenly realized the pain in Payton’s voice. “I’m- so sorry.”

“It’s alright I guess, I suppose you miss your friends and family right?” 

“Well- erm, uh…” 

Suddenly a bell rung through the through the entire building. A voice on PA system rung out. “Good evening residents of the Hypnos Hideout, United States. As of this moment the cafeteria will be serving lunches. Have a good afternoon.” 

“Welp!” Omf said, losing his previous train of thought. “It’s lunch time! Uh- don’t worry I’m sure they’ve made accommodations to the menu for you Pay Pay! Come on let’s go! :D” 

When the go to the cafeteria floor, it looked like one of those food courts you’d find in a mall. The room was decked out with star shaped lights, moons and dreamy clouds. It looked more like nap time than lunch time. Teenagers and adults gathered in tables. Some of them looked like normal humans. Except maybe their eyes were an odd color. Some of them had horns, some had tails, some had big feathery wings, some looked like cyborgs. They all varied table by table. It was odd seeing all these people, Payton could feel some glares of the other kids. They passed by a group of what mainly consisted of girls, “O M G, who’s the freak with Mr protagonist over there?” The whole table had kids with small pink horns, some of them had pretty pink wings. 

“Don’t listen to them Pay Pay,” Omf said quietly. Those are the drama hybrids, they’ll try to get under your skin. Just try to ignore them. Let’s get you some food. It should be at the accommodations booth.” 

They walked up to the booth together. Omf stepped up “Hey um, we were wondering if you had any Paint, for Payton Varro?” The dude behind the counter sighed and reluctantly gave a palette of the six basic colors, and a cup of green watercolor paint. He looked as if the same breed of magic night creature as Luna. Omf got a strawberry treat from another stand. 

Payton took some scoops of paint from the pallet with a spoon. None of these were as flavorful as the harvest red they tried that morning and the watercolor paint just tasted like water, but it was doable. The pair wondered the room looking for a place to sit until Payton spotted a round table in a corner. 

“Bingo!” they said “let’s sit here to avoid those stupid drama girls, don’t worry this works at school all the time lizard boy, just sit in the corner to get away from whatever bull is going on.” 

“Uh… Payton.” Omf said wearily. “I don’t think you should be sitting there…” 

“Why not?” They retorted. “No one’s sitting here!” 

“Yeah well… she usually sits there. I don’t think that’s a good seat, let’s go somewhere else :[.” 

“And be bullied by some pink weirdoes? I’ll pass.”

Suddenly Omf stiffened up. “Payton… Payton she’s right behind you. Get out of there now.” 

“Oh what? Is some big ugly monster behind me? Yeah rig-.”

BAM

Someone had hit the table square in the center. The table was completely destroyed and Payton’s food had gotten everywhere. They stumbled and landed on the floor by Omf’s feet. 

“WHO YOU CALLEN MONSTER, COLOR GIRL?” Bellowed one of the largest hybrids in the hideout. She stood about six and a half feet tall, she was a large girl, but she was only 15. She had two horns on her head, but one was bent and contorted. She had a large maroon tail, but some of it was wrapped in bandages. She wore a purple leather jacket with spikes on her shoulders, the shirt under it was black with a skull on it. She wore chains around her wrist and neck. Like she was a rabid dog who had to be contained. Her hair was the color of a burning fire. The look In her eyes said, “I’m gonna kill somebody today.” 

“HEY >:[!” Omf protested. “Payton is NOT a girl,  and they didn’t know you said there Pattie! They’re new! Cut the poor pal some slack!” 

Pattie picked payton up by their head as if they were a rag doll. “Look, Dragon guy, I see a punk in my seat, they get kicked out.” She tossed Payton across the cafeteria with full force. All the hybrids saw them flying though the air. Payton hit the wall at full force, and fell to the ground. 

“WHAT WAS THAT FOR?” Omf cried out. 

“Nothin, kid just looked really throwable.” 

Payton groaned on the floor, they had no idea on how none of their bones were broken. They looked over at where Pattie and Omf were standing. They used all the force in their body to stand up. 

“Ooo!” Said one of the drama hybrids from the corner of the room. “Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight!” 

Suddenly all the hybrids were calling for a fight. Chanting the word over and over, which gave Pattie an unnecessary strike of confidence. 

“Well!” She turned to Omf Smugly. “I guess everyone here wants to see a fight, hm?” She cracked her knuckles. “I guess I gotta give them the beat down of a lifetime.”

The moment Payton heard that they knew they had to be screwed. I mean, this girl stood over a foot taller than them at it looked like she ate weights for breakfast. Plus, they had no clue on how to fight. Maybe they should’ve trained with Omf for a bit. All they knew was that they did not want to get hit by this girl. 

She charged toward Payton like an angry bull. Omf was petrified. All of the other hybrids stood on in curiosity and awe. As Payton watched her get closer, they saw the fist about to land on them. They flinched, closed their eyes, and prepared for the worst. 

BONK!

“WHAT?” Shouted Pattie.

BONK!

BANG!

“WHAT IS THIS?” 

Payton was just as confused as Pattie. They slowly opened their eyes. None of Pattie’s punches had actually landed, but why? Payton looked down at their hands. They had fused together, forming a teal color. They weren’t shaped like hands anymore, instead their hands had formed a giant shield. 

BANG!

BONK!

“HEY LOSER! STOP HIDING BEHIND THAT SHIELD AND FIGHT ME!” 

BANG!

“:0” said Omf. “PAYTON!!! :D! LOOK AT WHAT YOUR DOING!!! THAT’S INCREDIBLE!” He shouted, he really wanted Payton to know he had their back.

Suddenly an idea crossed their mind, they morphed the shield into two big teal boxing gloves on their hands. While Pattie was in shock from the sudden change, they wound up and hit her square in the gut. She crouched over in pain. 

“YES!” Payton shouted. They looked at Omf with a proud smile on their face. “Hah! I did it!” 

Omf didn’t look as convinced. 

WHACK!

Just like that, Payton was out cold

When Payton opened their eyes, they were in the infirmary again, this time Pattie was laying on the bed next to them. At their feet stood a doctor, poor Omf, and a VERY angry Luna. 

“So.” She said in a very disapproving tone. “I hope you two are proud of the commotion you caused today. Because we need to replace a wall.” 

Then flew the accusations of “she/they started it!” But Luna wasn’t hearing any of that. “The two of you,” she said sternly. A day of washing dishes together, and I’m only being generous because Payton is new. Omf, watch over them for me.” 

“Yes ma’am…” Omf said wearily. 

Luna walked out of the room. 

The doctor kid spoke up, he was another one of the purple folk who helped around the hideout, he looked more like a lamb with his hair looking like a lavender puffball on his head, “uhh, the good news is that none of you got any major injuries. You two will be fine in like an hour” 

“Thanks Puff.” Omf sounded defeated.

“Hey no problem and,” he placed his and on Omf’s shoulder. “Don’t blame yourself for what happened. It was out of your control.” 

Omf sighed. “Okay :[…” 

Payton shifted in the bed. Today was a mess, and it was all their fault. They wanted more than anything to just go home and get out of this crazy nightmare, to be a normal human again. They were getting sick of the nonsense. 

“Hey,” 

Payton turned to see the voice came from Pattie. “What…?” 

“Your kinda alright kid, I’m sorry for tossin’ you like that.” 

“I’m sorry for hitting you like that…” 

“Eh, it happens. Sometime you just gotta hit somebody y’know.” 

“Eh…”

Omf interjected “Well I think we shouldn’t of fought each other >:[! That wasn’t very nice of either of you!”

“We’re sorry” the both of them said. 

“Well you should be! Now you two get some rest, you have dishes to get to tomorrow.”

<<PREV (you are here) NEXT>>

[jymwahuwu]

You've done yandere Tighnari and yandere Cyno.

But what about a yandere Alhaitham?

glad you asked!! 🥺 i do have an idea for this, but haven't been writing about it before - sharing my thoughts on yandere alhaitham and kaveh now (yes, i love writing about them both)

tw: yandere, non-con, kidnapping, abuse of power

"Once order is disrupted, the consequences spread like wildfire. I’d like to avoid such a scenario, so I can keep my life intact and uninterrupted."

Alhaitham took part in a revolution to replace the grand sage, resulting in Sumeru's regime returning to the God of Wisdom, and he became interim head of state (reluctantly). And all this just for his peace daily life💀 So, imagine what happens when Alhaitham finds out that you are an unstable factor in his life.

Alhaitham found that he had to spend an extra twenty minutes a day observing you, and another half hour thinking about you. (He already has all the information on you…you are very easy to understand, but also the most difficult to understand.) He doesn't like this kind of unexpected thing. Perhaps the bards in Mondstadt would have had an understanding of this ethereal experience, but everyone in Akademiya knew that Sumeru's literary studies and poetry were not popular.

He decided to solve it in a simple way. He is the acting grand sage now, in other words, the person who is actually in charge of the country's decisions, so there is no difficulty in implementing them. Here's a paperwork explaining your disappearance, you're just traveling somewhere else. Not to mention, you don't have any defenses about what you're drinking. Um, the location of the property, which he was always happy with, was indeed a problem - it was too close to Akademiya, General Mahamatra might notice you, so the soundproofing was updated.

Alhaitham is an educated, decent, civilized man, so he even asks for your opinion - and you reply with some confusion, oh, tour, if you get the chance, you can take it. You choose one of several new traps invented by Kshahrewar, say it's a nice color, you don't know it will be used to lock you later though.

At the beginning, Alhaitham just wanted to keep you at home, like bringing home those roadside pigeons, so that he could observe you at any time. He will provide you with three meals, and even generously have afternoon tea, new clothes, and books. He doesn't have any erotic thoughts. However, Kaveh changed that.

Kaveh sees you trying in vain to unlock the house. It was a strange sight. (Alhaitham allows you to do this because everyone has the right to use their intelligence.) He's shocked and confused by what happened - like, is this what he thought? His roommate locked someone up? Kaveh tries to explain to Alhaitham that it's wrong to lock someone up like this, but ends up not discussing it and living with the two of you.

Gradually, you can't help but seek comfort from Kaveh, the architect who often cares about you. He brings you some desserts and is willing to hear your complaints about Alhaitham. On the weekend, Kaveh wanted to go drink with some architect friends, but stayed home after hearing your tearful plea (“Please… please don’t go, don’t leave me at home….”)

What broke this kind of life was that one day, Kaveh held your cheeks and gave you a breathless, long forced kiss. His tongue twirled in your mouth, his long fingers rubbed against your private parts. Your struggles and panics are not fully understood. Alhaitham was flipping the pages of a book on the couch, watching you being forced to kiss and fingering…and then he pressed on to you. The sound of wet slapping and sobbing echoed loudly in the living room.

Maybe, he should try this?

[mkllpz]

DECEMBER 2024

I've written quite long year-in-reviews for the past two years (2022, 2023), but this year's y-i-r will be much shorter since I've mostly focused on one project.

The Hermes

That one project is The Hermes, my adventure book with the amazing Tim Fischer. I posted some early concept art for it at the very end of last year's y-i-r, and I recently posted some more concept art of some supporting characters. We're at the halfway point now, and the preliminary relased date for the French edition (published by Kinaye) is set for fall of 2025 (the English-language publisher still to be determined). Really looking forward to everyone finally getting to read this next year!

● The Hermes

▼ A panel from The Hermes by Tim Fischer ▼

▼ An unlettered page from The Hermes by Tim Fischer ▼

▼ A color test for The Hermes by Tim Fischer ▼

Book of Fuligin

Book of Fuligin, the Book of the New Sun anthology which includes my horror story "A Column of Ashes" (a collaboration with H. Berlin), was crowdfunded early last year, and it was finally printed and sent to backers this year. A few copies are available in the Strangers shop.

● "A Column of Ashes"

▼ The cover to Book of Fuligin by Artyom Trakhanov ▼

▼ A page from "A Column of Ashes" by H. Berlin ▼

The Cult of Dreams

Oscar Westberg/@gudgurkan ran a crowdfunding campaign for his illustrated "fantasy journal" The Cult of Dreams which I had the privilege of editing. The campaign raised 800% of its initial goal and is available to buy here. Highly recommended!

▼ The cover of The Cult of Dreams by Oscar Westberg ▼

▼ The first page of The Cult of Dreams by Oscar Westberg ▼

Peow2

Peow "came back from heaven to do overtime" as Peow2 earlier this year, releasing four new books and reprinting a handful of titles, three of which I was involved with as assistant editor: Soft: Director's Cut, Dreaming in Color, and Ex.Mag V: Bloodsucker. I've (assistant) edited 13 books for Peow so far, and I hope to get to add more to that list in the future.

Conventions

I went to 12 conventions/markets this year, including my first convention outside of Sweden, Oslo Comics Expo (Norway), which was held in a tent in front of a library. I sold out everything I brought with me to Oslo – Norwegians really love comics. Next year I'll try to go to Copenhagen Comics (Denmark) and Helsinki Comics Festival (Finland) as well, completing my tour of the four big Nordic conventions.

I'd hoped to announce my next book and collaborator at the end of this year, but I can't do that quite yet. Hopefully very soon!

[dramaticallytotal]

Special Items:

So, since TD takes insp from Survivor, I wanted to do a post inspired from it. Kind of. So, in Survivor, you are allowed to bring one personal item. I wanted to make a most about what item I believe everyone on World Tour brought with them!

• Alejandro: he's a toughie because I fully believe he incorporates personal things into his outfit, and he's not someone to bring something sentimental. So he's definitely someone who brings something practical or something he thinks can help in challenges. Perhaps a lighter or a Swiss army knife.

• Blaineley: She didn't get much time to pack, and I fully believe she tried to bring multiple things, but her bags were definitely checked. So she decided her personal item would be her wallet since it has her credit cards and such.

• Bridgette: She brought a stuffed dolphin that Geoff won for her at a beachside carnival. She couldn't bring her surfboard this time. Thus, she brings something sentimental!

• Cody: He was thinking of bringing something sentimental, but his parents kind of turned it into a psychological experiment, so he instead brought one of his handheld gaming systems to help pass the time.

• Courtney: She won't admit it as she's sure everyone expects her to bring something practical or whatever, but she brought the skull that Duncun carved for her on Island.

• DJ: He brought a stuffed bear his mama made for him, and it has a secret compartment that he hid some of his mama's spice and a small vial of her perfume in.

• Duncun: He definitely just brought his knife. But his special knife that he carved C + D into the handle of. UwU

• Ezekiel: He brought his lucky harmonica.

• Gwen: She brought her sketchbook and a pencil case full of pencils, pens, and colored pencils. She argued that they were a package deal and well the producers and whatnot agreed.

• Harold: One of his hand-held gaming systems, so he and Cody could game together. He also smuggled in one of his yo-yos.

• Heather: Stationary set. Girlie is gonna plot in style and in color coded sections. UwU

• Izzy: No one knows what she brought and is super scared that it's like explosives or something, but it's actually a bear she made to look like Big O! But she did smuggle more things on.

• Leshawna: She took a page out of Eva's book from season one and brought her music player. She needs her tunes.

• Lindsay: She also brought a stuffed animal, one that Tyler bought her for Valentine's Day. It's a little white bunny holding a pink heart. She made the heart into a hidden compartment and stashed all her credit cards.

• Noah: Look the producers wanted to get mad at him because he still wore the utility belt he wore as Chris's assistant but he argued it was part of his outfit and there's nothing they cane do since it was already seen by viewers and the show loves continuity. UwU, so he brings a book series. Yep. Series. It was one of those ones that came in a box. Loopholes ~

• Owen: Oh, Owen smuggled in so much food it's not even funny. But his personal item is definitely a hot sauce box set. (Noah helped him make a box for them that looked legit.)

• Sierra: She brought her Drama Brothers Limited Edition Cody bobblehead.

• Tyler: He brought his pink dumbell set that Lindsay bought for his birthday.

Bonus!

• Chef: He brought a lot of things, but one special thing he brought was his custom engraved knife set that Chris bought him for their first year anniversary.

• Chris: Again, this man brought so many things, but his special thing was the life-size wedding photo of him and Chef at their wedding. The frame has LEDs built in and there's a button you press that plays the Wedding March.

[noisyquokka]

Bro you write Felix so well! I have an idea for a request if you're willing ^^

He buys the reader flowers a lot and keeps one from each bouquet so he knows when the rest are dying and he can buy them more! It doesn't have to be boyfriend!felix, I'll leave that up to you! Just something super cute and wholesome, love that!!

A Lesson in Gift-Giving

PAIRING - Felix x GN!Reader

SYNOPSIS - Sometimes gift-giving doesn't go as smooth as you plan. Felix realizes the error of his ways after months away on tour.

WORDCOUNT - 2.5k

WARNINGS - Fluff, humor, newly-established relationship, which means there's a little miscommunication, but we get through it like champs ✊🏻

A/N - I love this idea so much! Got a little inspo just from your request, which I added in, hope you don't mind 😅 Wrote it as bf!Felix just cause it's a vibe.

"This is... definitely not getting out of hand."

You mutter these words to yourself as you stare down the latest delivery of fresh cut flowers sitting on your kitchen counter. Pink and white mini-carnations stare back at you in all their ruffled-petal glory, their sweet scent wafting through your personal space. The handwritten note between your fingers is cheesy and adorable; so very Felix. You scratch the side of your head in bemusement.

Most would say such a reaction to a bouquet of flowers was rude, considering it came from your boyfriend. But as you sit here amongst the variety of florals in your home, you think you've had enough to sustain you for the rest of the year.

It all began with one trip to a local Flea Market. You had stepped inside one of the mini shops on the way out only to catch the dashing white orchids in their pot on the shelf. Felix had offered to buy them for you as a little gift, and with hearts in your eyes, you had accepted. You stare at it now - a glorious centerpiece of four months that is absolutely thriving in its own right.

Then came the fresh cut peonies.

You were over the moon when Felix had surprised you with the first bouquet two weeks later, but you never could've imagined the deluge of flowers that would follow like clockwork. And you accepted all of them with the utmost gratitude. You'd also developed an odd relationship with the delivery guy over time; saying nothing verbally, but everything with the great art of facial miming, if that was even a thing.

The only thing about such a gift is that your place was beginning to look less like a home and more like a florist's shop. Your kitchen island not only held your thriving orchid display, but those same lush peonies, now dried in hues of dusty pinks. As your collection of flowers grew, so did your creativity. The flourishing arrangement of blooms that you had gotten for your four month anniversary had been carefully pressed between paper-towel-lined book pages for roughly two weeks before you were able to proudly display them in the frame above your bed.

It's safe to say you've turned just about every blank space in your home into a floral oasis over the last few months.

What was supposed to be a simple, romantic gesture was quickly derailing. Only problem was you had to be the one to stop it. After being with Felix for six months, you'd think such a simple conversation would be... well, simple. And yet, you stand here in a state of blooming panic.

A knock at the door brings you back to your current predicament. Your fingers twitch around the cardstock, crumpling the edge as your feet move in short strides toward the entrance. You're half expecting the delivery guy again, but as you swing the door open, you're even more surprised to find your boyfriend standing there with a smile that rivals the sun and-

"More flowers...!"

They're Dahlias this time - an arrangement of small but vibrant Orange Button blooms that compliment their larger, blushing Café au Lait companions. The contrast between them in both size and color is stunning; warm candle flames licking at the edges of whimsical ivory bones.

"Special delivery!" Felix's bubbly voice sets your heart in motion, and although you're seeing flower petals behind your eyelids, you can't help but smile at the cellophane-wrapped bouquet in his hand. A tote bag hangs off his other arm, filled to the brim with you can only guess what.

"Felix!?" You shake your head but lunge at him with open arms, a mix of confusion and excitement crossing your face. "Tour doesn't end for another three days. What are you doing here?"

"Last stop was canceled so I pulled some strings and caught a red-eye." He murmurs, burying his nose into your scalp. You feel him sink into your touch, a deep release of breath that says he's happy to be back home. God, did he miss you.

You pull away, ushering him inside and taking the flowers with the utmost care.

"Dahlias aren't even in season yet, where'd you get these?!"

You miss the furrow of his brow as he slugs his shoes off at the mat, following you through the immediate hallway.

"I may have pulled some more strings..." Felix trails off, footsteps faltering once he's in the open space of the kitchen and living room. He hears your laugh, lips quirking into a lopsided grin as he takes in the familiar centerpiece on the island. When you turn around, you catch those brown eyes shift from the orchids to the peonies that sit beside them. He points at the mummified bouquet with a tilt of his head.

"Are those~" He blinks, setting the tote bag down on the cool marble. "Are those the peonies I bought you for our one month?"

You hum an affirmative, lips thinning as you disappear down the hallway in search of a vase. Every single floral in your house is like a bright red flag in the apartment; waving rampantly in your peripheral as you pass through the living room. Good god, Felix hasn't even noticed those yet. The thought has you losing focus, fingers mindlessly shuffling through the vast collection of vases in the hall closet.

The crumpled petals in their muted pinks and creams stare back at the man as he leans against the kitchen island, chin resting in the palm of his hand with narrowed eyes. Felix would've expected these to be long gone by now. The peonies that had once been so vibrant and alive are nothing more than dried stems and petals in a ceramic vase. To him, they look less-than-lively in their current state. The sound of socked feet padding back into the living room shifts his attention. He doesn't even notice the other displays behind you, too focused on your presence alone.

"I'm no florist, Love, but these look like they're past their prime." There's a hint of a smile on his lips when he finishes his quip, and you can't help but chuckle. Twitchy fingers reach for the junk drawer handle, pulling it open with a lazy arm.

"I know they're not as beautiful as when you first gave them to me," You say, grabbing the set of pruners and scissors that rest among snack clips, rubber bands and the like, "but trust me when I say that they're still pretty."

"They look dead." He deadpans, padding around the island in few strides. He watches you work intently, leaning against the countertop as you cut the wrapping away and cut back the stems. The tap runs in the sink, cooler for the delicate blooms in your hands.

"They're not-" You start, filling the chosen vase a quarter of the way and mixing the food packet in. Your cheeks feel warm from the comment and you dip your head as you work. "Well, I guess they are technically dead..."

You hear the chuff of a laugh from your boyfriend and glance over your shoulder, quickly looking forward again when you find citrine eyes already on you. The grin on Felix's face is soft and yet you feel your face heat up even more. If he's teasing me about the peonies, what's he gonna say about the others?

"I dried them, so to me, they're just... frozen in time." You say, pruning the few leaves from the lower stems.

"You dried them?" He sounds surprised. You nod, placing the flowers into their yellow porcelain vase, fiddling with the placement of each blossom more than you should.

It's now, when you're preoccupied, that Felix's eyes rove over the island to the living room and his eyes widen. The Gladiolus bouquet from almost two weeks ago sits on the coffee table as a centerpiece, still alive by some miracle. Even more surprising, the Hydrangeas from a week and a half ago sit in a glass jar on the console table behind your sofa. The water in the makeshift vase is just about gone, settled in the base of the jar touching just the tips of the clipped stems.

"Baby, how are these still alive?" He asks, walking around the island towards the displays in the living area. Your attention shifts, following his movements as he stands there baffled by the still pristine blooms on the coffee table. Felix turns his head to you, your fingers laced in front of you as you move away from the Dahlias in their yellow porcelain vase.

"Felix, I have to tell you something."

Dark brows knit at your tone, voice mumbling and awkward as you tap your index nail onto your opposite ones.

"What, Love?"

"It's just- ah-" You let out a tense exhale, your heart beat picking up in your chest. "It's a little embarrassing to say, and I don't want you to take this the wrong way, but the flowers have gotten a bit out of hand... and..."

You pause in your ramblings, glancing up to your boyfriend who is still fascinated by the week old flowers. He picks up the jar of Hydrangeas with a careful hand, eyeing the petals that have begun their wilting and drying process. Observing. Analyzing. For a moment you believe he's so focused on them that your words have gone unheard, but he shifts his gaze to yours with arched brows and narrowed browns.

"How'd you manage to keep these fresh so long? The florist's site said they'd last a little under a week if you were lucky."

You tilt your head toward the ceiling, pressing your lips together as you scratch at the nape of your neck.

"I may or may not have some background in floristry..." You trail, voice going higher as you speak. Your fingers clench over your thumb as your eyes flicker about the living space, avoiding eye contact. "It's part of why I'm telling you. I love the flowers, Felix, I really do. But, it's just becoming a bit much."

"Love," Felix sets the flowers down with a sigh, and you keep your eyes on the far wall out of shame. He's mad, disappointed... he's something! And it's not a good someth-

You startle at the feeling of warm hands cupping your cheeks and your wide eyes dart forward to meet his. He takes in your expression, noticing the nervous shifting and fidgeting. Felix offers you his full attention - a warm smile and warm eyes, those familiar crescents.

"Why are you so nerved up? There's nothing to be ashamed of, you know I support you in everything." He leans forward and in an instant you feel him press a kiss to your forehead. Your chest lightens at the gesture.

"So you're not mad?"

"Never! Though I wish you would've told me that you were knowledgeable in fresh cut flowers. I only sent you new ones after the flower I took from each bouquet wilted on me."

His confession makes you laugh, your eyes closing as you shake your head.

"I was wondering why one was missing from every delivery. I thought someone was shortchanging you!"

"No, I wanted you to have something to brighten up the place when I'm gone. I guess I didn't consider the idea of you knowing anything on flowers..." He trails, chuckling to himself. His hands leave your face, taking their familiar place wrapped around your waist as he pulls you into him. Felix's chin rests atop your head, and you bring your own arms around his torso, nails scratching lightly against his shoulder blades. You press your face into his chest.

"So, where'd you learn all your magical floristry skills from?" He asks, glancing around the place for any other old bouquets he'd gifted you.

"My grandfather." You murmur, tilting your head up to catch his eye. Your arms tighten around him. "He was always out in the garden, spent most of his lifetime caring for his flowers out there, I'm pretty sure. Everything he'd taught me was through his own trial and error."

"Well, sure seems like you've perfected some of his teachings." Felix muses, grinning down at you. A scoff leaves you and you wave away his high praises.

"It's nothing, really. I just enjoy the process." You feel your cheeks heating up again, so you press your face back into the fabric of his hoodie.

"It's nothing?" Felix's arms tighten around your waist, lifting you easily and sitting himself down on the couch so you're draped over his lap. You settle your face in the crook of his neck, feeling him huff out a content sigh as he relaxes into the cushions. "You are so humble... but you have to admit, you're a natural at this. Maybe we should open up a flower shop together, hm? I'll take the orders, you just do your thing with this beautiful mind of yours." He nuzzles his chin into the side of your head with a chuckle, fingers cascading over the skin of your hip.

"You gonna take orders on tour, too?" You tease, fighting back a grin.

"You betcha! Your talent can be shipped worldwide." He glances down to gauge your reaction, the corners of his lips curled up in a smug amusement. Though there's that genuine affection seeping through as well. The kind that makes your heart flutter. You roll your eyes, but your hostility is lost with the curl to your lips. You press a soft kiss to Felix's neck, his expression shifting as he rests his head against the back of the couch.

"You really think I could open a flower shop?"

"You could be anything you wanna be, Love." He says, shifting so that you're facing each other. He draws you closer, hands moving to the curve of your shoulders. You can feel his heart beating against your own, missing that skin-to-skin contact that he's been craving for the past few months on tour. The living room settles into contentedness for a moment; just fingers brushing skin and shallow breaths as you both keep your eyes on one another.

"I love you," Felix whispers, lips brushing against yours once, twice, until they fully connect in a sweet kiss.

"And I love you," You mumble, smiling against him. "but I'll happily take your brownies every week for the next year."

"No more flowers, then?" You scrunch your nose at his question, pressing your lips together to stop yourself from laughing at the ridiculousness of your situation.

"You are the biggest rom-com protagonist I've ever laid my eyes on."

Felix's eyes light up with a playful spark as he tilts his head to the side, a deep chuckle rumbling his chest.

"What can I say, I try." He's oh, so humble about it; eyebrows arching in a cocky manner, a lopsided grin on his lips. He presses another kiss to your lips, slow and lingering as his hands slip to your lower back. You can't help but smile against his mouth, bringing a hand up to tangle in the dark tresses of hair. He hums before pulling back, suddenly remembering something.

"Speaking of being the best boyfriend alive-"

"Your words, but sure-"

"-I brought some takeout and a few other gifts from overseas... but you said you wanted brownies soooo..." He looks off elsewhere, and you roll your eyes.

"Babe!"

Felix laughs, the sound a gentle melody to your ears. Your eyes meet again and he shoots you a loving smile, nodding toward the bag sitting on the counter.

"They're yours, Love." He murmurs, fingers tapping the side of your leg to usher you off the couch.

"C'mon. The quicker we eat, the quicker I get to cuddle you to sleep."

Psst!! If you made it this far, thank you for taking the time to read my work 💕 I appreciate you!