#Images of Sigrid

[genderbinaryisforlosers]

WITHIN THE WIRES

this has been sitting half-finished in my drafts for actual years - i kept wanting to update it for the later seasons, and i have some sketches, but i might as well post these first five! maybe i'll finish the others by the time season 10 comes out

IDs in alt, copied below the cut.

The first of five digital drawings of the narrators and subjects of Within the Wires. The narrators are on the right of each image, and the subjects on the left, separated by a pale blue vertical line on a yellow backdrop. A green wire twirls throughout each image, starting from Oleta's headphones.

Oleta has her back pressed up to the divide with her eyes closed, listening to her headphones. Hester has her hand pressed against the divide and is smiling wistfully at Oleta.

Roimata and Claudia stand back to back, with Roimata turned slightly towards the viewer and Claudia turned slightly away, hiding her face. Roimata is frowning with her eyes downcast.

Michael sits in the foreground with his face resting in one hand, smiling as he fiddles with his fountain pen in the other. In the background, Amy stands pouring coffee, glaring at him.

Freya cups Sigrid's face in her hand, smiling brightly at her. Although their bodies are faced together, Sigrid's head is turned towards the viewer, avoiding Freya's eyes and looking towards the viewer as if for help.

Gwen and Indra are almost back-to-back, but Indra is slightly more turned towards the viewer while Gwen is in profile. Indra is smiling as she talks into her flip phone, looking off to the side, while Gwen is looking back at Indra and smiling, holding her sunglasses in one hand.

[artpollsblog]

Round 1 - Set 54

Cat, Mosse 1872 - 1873 by Maria Wiik

Description: painting showing a cat laying on a red pillow with its eyes closed. The cat is brown with stripes, a white chin, a white chest, white front paws and a white tail tip. Propaganda: I want to pet her.

Cat, Mosse (1872 - 1873) by Maria Wiik. Oil on canvas. The art is 21 × 26 cm. The art is in the Finnish National Gallery (link to the art here). The art was photographed by Hannu Pakarinen.

Sleeping dog 1894 by Sigrid Granfelt

Description: painting a dog sleeping on a rug, the dog is curled up in a ball, behind the dog is a couch or armchair. the dog is white with brown spots

Sleeping dog 1894 by Sigrid Granfelt. Oil on canvas. The art is 53 × 77 cm. The art is in the Finnish National Gallery (link to the art here). The art was photographed by Jenni Nurminen.

[kittyhasskittles]

I haven't really had creativity for anything other than to draw Jacque and Aura being a disaster couple.

He's a French "old" geeser that Aura had to marry so that her family could make profit. Aura leaves him to go be a cowboy.

Buddy learned that pointing a 🔫 at his wife and accusing her of cheating doesn't fix her attitude problem.

Sigrid's not mine, she's @cardwolf (so is Bjorn but he's just mentioned so)

[holmstroms]

             sigrid   smiled   softly   at   the   confirmation   ,   letting   the   tension   in   her   shoulders   fade   and   ease.   it   was   normal   for   the   two   of   them   ,   for   søren   to   wake   up   in   a   cold   sweat   and   sigrid   to   wrap   her   arms   around   him   ;   a   steady   anchor   in   the   night.   they'd   made   a   system   out   of   whispered   reassurances   and   firm   touches   ,   making   sure   that   they   were   both   safe   and   sound   in   bed   together.   sigrid   knew   that   søren   felt   guilty   ,   that   he   tried   to   push   down   every   sign   of   him   not   doing   well.   what   he   always   failed   to   realise   was   that   sigrid   knew   her   husband   better   than   she   knew   herself.   "you're   always   so   charming   in   the   morning   ,"   she   replied   ,   eyes   a   mixture   of   fond   and   exasperated.   "i   only   get   grabby   because   your   leg   is   like   a   windmill.   it   keeps   going   all   over   the   place."   she   leaned   forward   and   kissed   his   shoulder   ,   rested   her   head   against   his   chest.   "how   are   you   feeling   about   work   today   ?"

“no  bad  dreams.”  it  was  something  that  they  had  grown  accustomed  to  over  the  years,  that  was  as  normal  as  getting  bills  through  the  post  or  separating  the  washing  from  whites  and  colors.  søren’s  nightmares  were  a  third  party  in  their  marriage  ;  sometimes  absent,  sometimes  burning  and  alive  in  his  brain.  they  could  have  weeks  where  søren  was  untouched  by  the  fire,  and  some  where  he  was  doused  in  flame.  regardless,  for  twenty - four  years  they  had  stuck  by  each  other  and,  every  morning,  had  woken  up  choosing  to  stay.  “i  slept  well.  better  than  i  have  for  a  long  time.  i  think  it  had  something  to  do  with  the  beautiful  woman  next  to  me  …  although  she  can  get  a  bit  grabby  with  the  covers  during  the  night.”  a  low,  sleep - darkened  chuckle  rumbled  from  his  body.  he  pulled  sigrid  gently  closer  to  rest  her  head  on  his  bare  chest. 

[enemiestolovershoe]

hey :) .. i‘m in desperate need for a very fluffy fic with chris and bsf!reader where reader went to the triplets house earlier that day and ever since she was off. she crashed on the couch and as chris went to the kitchen to get some pepsi he saw that the lights are still one and reader is still up. crying. he askes whats wrong (you make something up) and chris is comforting her in the end and they end up cuddling falling asleep on the couch. :) thank you so much

Shattered Trust

Christ Sturniolo x bsf!reader

Summary: After Y/N’s world shatters from betrayal, Chris offers her comfort and support, helping her navigate the painful path of healing and rediscovery.

Words: 5k

Warnings: Angst, Cheating, Emotional Hurt, Mild swearing, Crying, Emotional Distress, Betrayal

The glowing screen of your phone illuminated your tear-streaked face as you typed out a message. Your hands trembled, but you forced yourself to hit send:

Hey, Chris, are you busy?

It only took a few seconds for the reply to pop up.

Not at all. What’s up?

You hesitated, debating whether to tell him the truth or to brush it off as nothing. The thought of sitting in your room, replaying the betrayal over and over, was unbearable. You needed a distraction, somewhere to go, people to be with—people who felt safe.

Can I come over? you finally typed.

Chris’s reply came faster this time.

Of course. We were just about to pick a movie. You coming over for our movie night?

You blinked at the screen. You’d completely forgotten tonight was one of your monthly traditions with the triplets. Normally, the thought would’ve excited you, but now it just felt like a lifeline.

Yeah, movie night sounds good. Be there in 15.

Chris stood in the living room, holding his phone with a faint smile. "Y/N's coming over," he announced to Nick and Matt, who were sprawled across the couch, arguing about which movie to watch.

"Finally," Nick grinned, tossing a piece of popcorn at Matt. "I was about to call her myself. It’s her turn to pick the snacks anyway."

Matt raised an eyebrow. "You sure she doesn’t just want to escape from her crazy family? Remember that time she showed up because her mom and sister were having a screaming match over hair dye?"

Chris shrugged. "I don’t care why she’s coming. She asked, so she’s welcome."

As you drove through the quiet streets, your mind drifted back to the moment everything shattered.

Your boyfriend—ex-boyfriend, you corrected yourself—had always been charming, maybe too charming. You’d never questioned his late nights or the way he sometimes avoided your gaze when your sister was around. You’d trusted him completely.

But a week ago, you’d come home early from a canceled lunch with friends, only to find the two of them tangled up on the couch. The image was burned into your memory, along with the sound of their voices stumbling over excuses.

"Y/N, it’s not what it looks like," he’d said, his voice dripping with guilt.

"Seriously?" you’d spat, unable to even look at your sister. "How long has this been going on?"

Your sister had said nothing, just stood there, avoiding your eyes. That silence had hurt more than anything he could’ve said.

Pulling into the Sturniolos’ driveway, you wiped your eyes and practiced a smile in the mirror. The triplets didn’t know what had happened, and you weren’t ready to tell them. Tonight needed to be about something else, anything else.

Chris opened the door before you could even knock. "Hey, you made it!" he greeted, pulling you into a quick hug. "You okay?"

You nodded, forcing your practiced smile. "Yeah, just needed some company."

"Well, you’re in luck," Nick called from the couch, waving the remote. "We were about to watch something, but Matt refuses to watch anything fun. Save us."

"Hey!" Matt protested. "At least I pick movies with actual plots."

"Sure, if by 'plot,' you mean boring dialogue and depressing endings," Nick shot back.

Chris rolled his eyes. "Ignore them. You want something to drink? Snacks? Or just want to settle in and pick the movie?"

You hesitated, but the warmth of their familiar banter started to thaw the icy weight in your chest. "I’ll take snacks and the remote," you said with a weak laugh.

"Now that’s the Y/N we know," Chris said, his smile softening as he led you into the living room.

You flopped onto the couch with a sigh, curling into the corner as Nick and Matt argued over yet another movie choice.

"Okay, but why would we watch Inception right now? It’s like three hours long, and my brain’s not ready for all that," Nick said, waving his hands in exasperation.

"Because it’s a good movie," Matt shot back, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Yeah, but good doesn’t mean fun, and I’m in the mood for fun," Nick retorted.

You couldn’t help but chuckle, your first real laugh in what felt like days. "How about The Hangover?" you suggested, cutting through their debate.

Three pairs of eyes turned to you.

"Classic choice," Chris said with an approving nod.

"Finally, someone with taste," Nick said, glaring at Matt.

Matt rolled his eyes. "Fine. At least it’s better than whatever Nick would’ve picked."

"Excuse me, my taste is immaculate," Nick replied, throwing a handful of popcorn in Matt’s direction.

Chris handed you the remote and stood. "I’ll grab some snacks. Pepsi okay?"

"Perfect," you said, your voice soft but grateful.

A few minutes later, Chris returned with a can of Pepsi and a small bowl of your favorite chocolate. He placed them on the table in front of you, giving you a brief, searching look.

"You good?" he asked quietly, his voice low enough that Nick and Matt wouldn’t hear.

You nodded quickly, not trusting your voice. "Thanks, Chris."

He didn’t push further, just gave you a small smile before sitting down next to you.

As the opening credits of The Hangover rolled, you settled into your corner of the couch. Nick had sprawled out on the floor with a blanket, Matt took the recliner, and Chris sat beside you, his shoulder brushing against yours.

The room quickly filled with laughter as the movie’s chaotic antics unfolded. For the first time in a week, you felt a little lighter, the ache in your chest dulled by the comfort of their company.

"Okay, but how does no one realize there’s a tiger in the bathroom until it’s too late?" Nick asked between bouts of laughter.

"Because they were all blacked out, genius," Matt replied, tossing a kernel of popcorn at him.

"Still. I would’ve noticed a tiger," Nick said with mock seriousness.

You smiled, shaking your head. "No, you wouldn’t. You’d be too busy freaking out over a missing tooth."

Chris chuckled beside you, his gaze lingering on your face. When you glanced over, he quickly looked away, pretending to focus on the screen.

It happened again a few minutes later during one of the movie’s funniest scenes. You caught Chris watching you out of the corner of your eye, his expression soft, almost worried.

"Chris," you whispered, leaning toward him slightly.

"Yeah?" He looked at you, his face unreadable.

"You don’t have to keep staring. I’m okay," you said, forcing a small smile.

He blinked, clearly caught off guard. "I wasn’t staring."

You raised an eyebrow.

"Okay, maybe a little," he admitted, his voice lowering. "I just… You seem different tonight."

Your stomach twisted at his words, but you quickly shook your head. "Just tired, that’s all."

Chris hesitated but nodded, letting it drop. "Well, if you need anything, just let me know," he said softly.

"Thanks, Chris," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

As the movie continued, you tried to focus on the humor, on the familiar warmth of being with the triplets. But Chris’s quiet concern lingered in the back of your mind, making you wonder if maybe—just maybe—he saw through the smile you were trying so hard to keep.

As the credits of The Hangover Part III rolled, Matt stretched with a dramatic yawn and stood up.

"Alright, I’m done," he announced, rubbing his eyes. "If I watch one more scene of Alan’s nonsense, I might lose my mind."

"You lost it a long time ago," Nick quipped, earning a glare from Matt.

"Whatever. I’m going to bed. Night, Y/N," Matt said with a small wave before disappearing down the hall.

Nick was quick to follow, gathering his blanket and pillow. "Yeah, I’m out too. Y/N, make sure Chris doesn’t make you watch some artsy indie movie if you guys stay up," he said with a wink.

"Goodnight, Nick," you replied with a soft laugh.

As their doors closed, Chris turned to you. "It’s pretty late," he said, glancing at the clock. "You sure you’re okay to drive? You could crash here if you want."

You hesitated, but the idea of going back home, back to the empty room where every corner reminded you of betrayal, was unbearable. "Are you sure? I don’t want to bother you guys."

"Y/N," Chris said firmly, his eyes meeting yours. "You could never bother us. Stay."

You nodded. "Okay. I’ll take the couch, then."

Chris got up and grabbed a blanket from the hallway closet. He draped it over you carefully, his hand lingering on the back of the couch for a moment. "If you need anything, just knock on my door, alright?"

"I will. Thanks, Chris," you said quietly.

"Goodnight," he murmured, his voice softer than usual.

"Goodnight."

As soon as he was gone, the silence of the room felt overwhelming. You curled up under the blanket, the warm fabric doing little to shield you from the cold ache in your chest.

You pulled out your phone, hoping for a distraction, but the sight of an unread message made your heart sink. It was from your sister.

Why are you ghosting me? We need to talk.

Your breath hitched as the words blurred on the screen. She had the nerve to text you, to act as though everything could be fixed with a conversation. Fresh tears welled up, and before you could stop them, they spilled over.

You pressed your hand to your mouth, trying to muffle the sound of your sobs. The last thing you wanted was for the triplets to hear. They didn’t know, and you weren’t sure you could bring yourself to tell them.

In his room, Chris lay awake, staring at the ceiling. Something about tonight wasn’t sitting right with him. You’d been quiet, more than usual. The message you sent earlier had been short, almost hesitant, and now that he thought about it, he hadn’t seen or heard from you all week.

Chris frowned, running a hand through his hair. He hated seeing you like this—guarded, distant. It wasn’t like you to pull away, not from them.

He turned onto his side, closing his eyes and willing himself to sleep. But it was no use. His mind kept replaying little moments from the night—the way your smile didn’t quite reach your eyes, the way you flinched when he asked if you were okay, the way you seemed to deflate the second Matt and Nick left the room.

Something was wrong. He didn’t know what, but he was sure of it.

Back in the living room, you wiped your face with the sleeve of your hoodie, but the tears kept coming. The betrayal, the pain, the gnawing guilt of not telling the triplets—it all felt like too much.

You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to block it all out, but sleep wouldn’t come. Every time you closed your eyes, you saw your sister’s name on your screen, her message taunting you, demanding an answer you couldn’t give.

You wanted to tell Chris, Nick, and Matt everything. You wanted to spill it all, to let them comfort you like they always did. But the words felt trapped in your throat, too heavy to say out loud.

And besides, they were probably asleep by now.

What you didn’t know was that Chris wasn’t asleep. He was lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, still thinking about you. And something told him he wasn’t the only one who couldn’t sleep tonight.

Chris tossed and turned in his bed, staring at the ceiling for what felt like the hundredth time that night. Sleep just wouldn’t come. His thoughts kept drifting back to you—your forced smiles, the way you’d seemed a little too quiet all night. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.

With a sigh, he gave up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He grabbed his phone from the nightstand, noting the time: 2:37 a.m.

"Great," he muttered, running a hand through his hair.

He decided a Pepsi might help, so he padded quietly out of his room and into the kitchen, careful not to make too much noise. The kitchen and living room were joined, and he didn’t want to accidentally wake you.

As he opened the fridge, the faint sound of a muffled sob reached his ears. Chris froze, his hand hovering over the soda can.

He turned his head toward the couch, his brow furrowing. The room was dim, but he could see your figure curled under the blanket, your shoulders trembling.

"Y/N?" he called softly, stepping away from the fridge.

You stiffened, biting your lip to keep any more sounds from escaping. But it was too late—he’d already heard you.

Chris approached the couch slowly, his heart sinking at the sight of you trying to hide your tears. Without a word, he sat down beside you, the couch dipping slightly under his weight.

You turned your head away, wiping at your face furiously, but Chris wasn’t having it. Gently, he laid a hand on your head, his fingers threading through your hair in a soothing motion.

"Hey," he said softly. "What’s wrong, hm?"

"Nothing," you whispered, your voice cracking.

"Y/N," he said firmly, though his tone remained gentle. "Please. Tell me. We both know something’s hurting you. You can tell me anything, I promise."

You shook your head stubbornly, clutching the blanket tighter around yourself.

Chris sighed but didn’t pull away. "Okay," he said after a moment. "How about this? If you don’t want Matt or Nick to know, I won’t tell them. Whatever it is, it’ll stay between us. I swear."

You hesitated, his words making the weight on your chest feel just a little lighter. Taking a shaky breath, you sat up, letting the blanket fall to your lap. Chris stayed close, watching you carefully, his concern etched across his face.

Your eyes fixed on the ceiling as you spoke, your voice barely above a whisper. "Jason cheated."

Chris blinked, his jaw tightening. He opened his mouth to say something, but you held up a hand, stopping him.

"And it wasn’t just with anyone," you continued, your voice breaking. "It was with my sister."

The words hung in the air, heavy and raw. Chris stared at you, his eyes wide with shock, his mouth slightly open as if he couldn’t quite believe what he’d just heard.

You looked down at your lap, your fingers twisting in the blanket. The silence felt suffocating, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him.

Finally, Chris found his voice. "Y/N..." he started, but his words trailed off, as if he didn’t know where to begin.

Chris sat there for a moment, stunned into silence. His mind reeled at your words, trying to process the betrayal you’d just revealed. But as he looked at you—your trembling hands, the tears that streamed down your cheeks—his shock quickly gave way to something else: protectiveness.

Without hesitating, Chris moved closer, sliding an arm around your shoulders. His touch was warm and steady, grounding you even as your emotions threatened to spiral.

"Y/N," he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "I don’t even know what to say… but I’m so sorry. You don’t deserve that. Not from him. And definitely not from her."

His words broke something loose inside you, and the tears came harder, pouring down your face and soaking the neckline of your shirt. You buried your face in your hands, your body trembling as you let out the sobs you’d been holding back for days.

"How could they do this to me, Chris?" you choked out between sobs. "My own sister… she knew everything—everything Jason and I had been through. And she still—" You couldn’t even finish the sentence.

Chris felt a sharp pang in his chest. Seeing you like this—completely broken—made his blood boil. He wanted to storm out, to confront Jason, to demand answers from your sister, but he knew none of that would help you right now. Right now, you needed him here.

"They’re both selfish," he said firmly, his voice steady despite the anger simmering beneath the surface. "They didn’t think about you at all, and that’s on them. That’s not your fault, Y/N."

You shook your head, tears still streaming. "But it feels like it is… I keep thinking, ‘What did I do wrong? Was I not enough?’"

Chris grabbed your hands, gently pulling them away from your face. "Hey, stop that. Don’t do that to yourself," he said, his tone more intense now. "Jason cheated because he’s an idiot who doesn’t know how to value someone amazing when he has them. And your sister…" He paused, choosing his words carefully. "She’s the one who betrayed you, not the other way around. You’re not to blame for any of this. Not even a little."

You tried to respond, but the words wouldn’t come. The weight of everything—the betrayal, the heartbreak, the shame—was too much.

Chris seemed to sense that. He didn’t say anything more, just pulled you into a hug, wrapping both arms around you tightly. Your head fell against his chest, and he rested his chin lightly on top of your hair.

"Just let it out," he murmured, stroking your back in soothing circles. "I’m right here. You don’t have to hold it in anymore."

The dam broke. You clung to him as if he were the only thing keeping you from falling apart completely, your tears soaking into his shirt. Chris didn’t flinch or pull away. If anything, he held you tighter, his hand continuing its steady rhythm on your back.

"It’s okay," he whispered, his voice soft but firm. "Cry as much as you need to. I’m not going anywhere."

And he didn’t. Chris stayed there, holding you like you were the most fragile and important thing in the world. Even as your sobs wracked your body, he remained calm, offering the kind of quiet strength you desperately needed.

Minutes passed, though it felt like time stood still. Slowly, your crying began to subside, your breaths becoming less ragged. But Chris didn’t let go, not until he was sure you were ready.

The warmth of Chris’s embrace began to steady your breathing, though your body still felt heavy with exhaustion. Slowly, you pulled away, your hands resting in your lap as you avoided his gaze. Chris leaned back slightly, giving you space, but his concern didn’t waver.

Your eyes were puffy and swollen from crying, your cheeks streaked with drying tears. Chris reached out, his thumb gently wiping a stray tear that lingered.

He gave you a small, reassuring smile. "Let’s try and get some sleep, okay?" he said softly, his voice warm and steady. "It’s been a lot tonight, but it’s going to get better. I promise."

You nodded wordlessly, lying back down on the couch and pulling the blanket up to your chin. The headache from crying so much throbbed behind your eyes, and you couldn’t deny how tired you felt.

As you settled in, you expected Chris to stand and head back to his room. But instead, he surprised you. Without saying a word, he shifted to lie down behind you, sliding in close and wrapping an arm protectively around your waist.

You stiffened for a moment, startled by the gesture. "Chris… you don’t have to stay here if you don’t want to," you protested, your voice soft and hesitant.

Chris’s hold didn’t falter. He rested his chin lightly against the top of your head and hushed you gently. "Shhh," he murmured. "I’m not going anywhere, Y/N. We’ll get through this together, okay? You don’t have to do this alone."

His words, spoken with such quiet determination, made your chest tighten. You felt tears prick at your eyes again, though this time they weren’t from sadness.

You nodded, your voice barely above a whisper. "Thank you, Chris." Your voice cracked slightly, but you meant every word.

He gave your waist a small squeeze. "Always," he said simply, his tone carrying a weight of sincerity that made you feel safe in a way you hadn’t in days.

The steady rhythm of his breathing, the warmth of his arm around you, and the comfort of knowing he wasn’t going to leave finally allowed your body to relax. The headache and emotional exhaustion took over, and before you knew it, your eyes fluttered shut.

Chris stayed awake a little longer, watching over you as your breathing evened out. He held you close, his heart breaking a little as he thought about everything you’d gone through. But more than anything, he was determined to be there for you, no matter what it took.

Finally, a small, tired smile crossed his lips as he rested his head against the pillow, letting sleep claim him too—right there with you in his arms.

The morning light crept through the blinds as Nick shuffled groggily into the living room, his eyes barely open. He stretched with a yawn, heading toward the fridge for something to drink. As he turned toward the couch, he froze mid-step.

At first, he blinked a few times, convinced he was still half-asleep. "What the…" he muttered, rubbing his eyes dramatically. The sight before him—Chris curled up behind you on the couch, his arm draped protectively around your waist—was not something he’d ever expected to see.

"Am I dreaming?" he asked aloud to no one in particular. After a moment of staring in disbelief, he turned and bolted down the hall.

"Matt!" Nick hissed, bursting into his brother’s room.

Matt groaned, burying his face in his pillow. "Nick, if this isn’t an emergency, I swear—"

"It is!" Nick interrupted, shaking Matt’s shoulder. "You need to see this. Like, right now."

Reluctantly, Matt sat up, his hair a mess and his expression sour. "This better be good," he grumbled, throwing the blanket off and following Nick back to the living room.

When he caught sight of the two of you on the couch, his annoyance vanished, replaced by wide-eyed surprise.

"Is that…" Matt started, leaning closer to get a better look.

"Yup," Nick whispered, his tone somewhere between shocked and amused.

"Did he finally make a move?" Nick asked, tilting his head.

"I don’t know," Matt replied, scratching the back of his head. "But… doesn’t she have a boyfriend?"

Nick frowned, looking at Matt. "Yeah, she does. At least, I think she does. So… what’s this about?"

Matt shrugged, his brow furrowed. "No clue. But they look pretty cozy."

Nick pulled out his phone, biting his lip to keep from laughing. "Should we ask them? Or should I just take a picture for evidence?"

"Definitely a picture," Matt said, smirking.

Nick nodded, holding his phone up and aiming the camera. Just as he was about to snap the shot, his fingers fumbled, and the phone slipped from his hand.

The loud clatter of the phone hitting the floor echoed through the room, and both you and Chris stirred.

Chris blinked awake first, squinting against the light and taking a second to register what was happening. He glanced down at you still in his arms, then up at Nick and Matt, who were both frozen like deer in headlights.

You woke up a second later, groggy and disoriented. "What’s going on?" you mumbled, sitting up slightly and noticing Chris’s arm still loosely around you.

Nick recovered first, quickly scooping up his phone. "Uh, nothing! Morning! Just… you know… didn’t mean to wake you guys!"

Matt, however, wasn’t as subtle. "So… are we gonna talk about this, or…?" He gestured between the two of you, his brows raised.

Chris rubbed his face, clearly trying to think of a way to explain. "It’s not what it looks like—"

Matt snorted. "Really? ‘Cause it looks like you two were cuddling all night."

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. "Can we not do this right now?"

Nick crossed his arms, a mischievous grin creeping onto his face. "Oh, we’re definitely doing this right now."

Chris’s body stiffened as he quickly sat up, his expression suddenly serious. His protective instincts kicked in, and he shot a sharp look at Nick, his voice firm. "No, Nick. Seriously. Drop it. It’s not the time."

Nick froze, blinking in confusion at the sudden change in Chris’s tone. He wasn’t used to hearing his brother so... intense. But before he could ask anything more, his gaze shifted to you.

You had your face hidden in your hands, your shoulders shaking with quiet sobs. That’s when it hit Nick. It wasn’t just a casual morning moment between friends. Something was wrong.

Matt’s playful smirk faltered, and his eyes softened as he noticed the tears trailing down your face. His teasing nature immediately gave way to concern. "Y/N…?" he began, but Chris cut him off before either of them could say anything else.

"Look, this is serious," Chris said, his voice still low and full of emotion. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself as he turned toward Nick and Matt. "You guys don’t know what happened."

Nick looked at him, unsure. "What happened?" he asked, his voice quieter now, sensing the weight behind his brother’s words.

Chris glanced over at you, his heart breaking as he saw how upset you were. He didn’t want to push you, but he also knew you needed support. "Y/N gave me permission to tell you guys," he said softly, then turned to face Matt and Nick fully. "Jason—her boyfriend—cheated on her. With her sister."

The words hit like a punch to the gut. Matt and Nick both looked at each other in stunned silence, their eyes wide with disbelief.

"Wait, what?" Nick whispered, shaking his head in confusion. "He… cheated on her with her sister?"

Chris nodded, his jaw tight with anger. "Yeah. And I know she’s been trying to keep it together, but it’s been eating her up. She didn’t deserve any of this." His voice cracked slightly, the weight of what you were going through becoming even more apparent as he spoke.

You wiped at your eyes, feeling the sting of their stares but too drained to care. Chris’s hand remained on your back, offering what little comfort he could, but you could tell this was a lot for Matt and Nick to process.

Matt was the first to speak up again, his face hardening. "That’s messed up," he muttered, clearly frustrated. "She doesn’t deserve that." He glanced at you, his expression softening. "Y/N, I’m sorry."

Nick nodded in agreement, though his voice was still filled with disbelief. "I… I had no idea. Why didn’t you tell us sooner?" he asked, genuinely concerned.

You sniffed and looked up, finally meeting their eyes. "I didn’t know how to. It hurt too much. I didn’t want to drag anyone into it." Your voice trembled, but you tried to hold it together. "I just needed some time to figure out what to do."

Chris gave your back another reassuring rub, silently telling you it was okay to let them in. He looked up at Matt and Nick, a heavy sigh escaping him. "She needs our support right now, not questions. So please… just… give her space if she wants it."

Matt nodded solemnly, his usual teasing nature now completely gone. "Yeah, of course," he said, his voice softer than before. "You’ve got it, Y/N. Whatever you need."

Nick hesitated for a moment, then gave you a small, almost apologetic smile. "We’re here for you. You don’t have to go through this alone."

You nodded weakly, still feeling the sting of everything that had happened. But for the first time in what felt like days, you felt a small flicker of hope. With Chris, Matt, and Nick by your side, maybe things would start to get better.

Chris’s arm tightened around you once more, offering the quiet comfort of knowing that, for now, you weren’t alone in this.

The room fell into a quiet calm, the weight of the conversation lingering in the air. Matt and Nick gave you the space you needed, no longer pressing you with questions. Instead, they offered small, reassuring smiles, letting you know they were there—ready to support you however you needed.

Chris, still sitting close beside you, rubbed your back comfortingly, his presence a silent promise that he wouldn’t leave your side. The warmth of his touch brought a small, but much-needed sense of peace.

After a few moments of silence, you took a shaky breath and finally looked up at Chris. "I don’t know what to do… or where to go from here," you admitted, your voice still thick with emotion.

Chris met your gaze with understanding in his eyes. "You don’t have to have all the answers right now," he said gently. "We’ll figure it out together. One step at a time."

You nodded, feeling the truth of his words sink in. Maybe you didn’t have the answers yet, but you weren’t alone. With Chris, Matt, and Nick by your side, you knew you had the support to get through this.

"Thank you," you whispered, your voice breaking again, but this time with gratitude.

Chris smiled softly, his thumb brushing against your cheek. "Always, Y/N. You’ll never have to go through this alone."

As the day began to unfold, you and the triplets spent the rest of the morning together. No more talk of Jason or your sister—just the comfort of knowing you were surrounded by people who cared. Slowly, the pieces of your heart that had shattered started to heal, one moment, one breath at a time.

And for the first time in a while, you felt a spark of hope for the future, knowing that with time and support, you’d find your way through the pain.

[groundrootvegetable]

first time someone tagged me for these sorts of games…. so awesome (crosses my arms cool-style) (tagged by @babyblueetbaemonster)

TES crushes? I dunno I don’t think the things I feel for these guys are true crushes but I think they’re pretty close

Martin septim

I like him very much he’s so cute.. my little 40-50 something year old man

Frozen man from eso

ok he’s kind of ugly but I like him I like his voice… I wish he was important so I could put him in a scary room

Cicero Skyrim

I made this image specifically for this

SERANA

SERAAANAAAAAAAA OH MYGOSH I love her. She’s so cool she’s my everything idc…. I respect your choices but also real tears were shed when you rejected me

Vythur

I thought he was cool. I also legitimately felt bad for him like yikes. sorry man you got dealt the worst cards ever

Sigrid

This absolute baddie from kvatch

Cutter

She’s literally so cute…. I love how creepy she is

Mazoga the orc

Her quest is so charming. I love her personality 💛

Okay that’s all. Ummm tagging @ego-osbourne and @kiranokira ?? I dunno I just picked random mutuals hopefully I’m doing this correctly lolololol

[not-kamenx]

GO SHITPOST I CHOOSE YOU

A shitten indeed! Jaxon is spot on with his observations chat.

okay I got reminded of the episode with Zip and Zoom and:

Robin = baby bird

Multi = bunny

Jaxon = dragon (+ partnership with lemurs like it’s a sponsor)

I also wanted to share this 😭 my YouTube glitched after I accidentally clicked on a Sofia the First video and I clicked back, only for the title to stay. AH YES, CHROME, THE BAKER KING. The scene was perfect and I had to get this frame

I also typed BirdEkusu so much, autocorrect decided it was there to stay a few days ago. Currently, it now automatically chooses it as an option if I type Bi! I’ve ranted way too much.

just an image of these two, I’d like to imagine Jaxon sends this to Sigrid

fake Twitter image with Ciel’s account. I’m writing something with Sigrid and I just had to visualize this image for some reason.

ALSO, TADA! MY FIRST EVER BEY I’VE BOUGHT! I got Sword Dran because I’m planning on getting a lot more stuff related to Beyblade X! I probably should’ve gotten Soar Phoenix with the string launcher but… well, I just wanted Sword Dran. And there were like 10 boxes of Soar Phoenix so I CAN GET THEM LATER! I don’t have a stadium yet anyways so Sword Dran is just displayed right now

some crappy doodles of Jaxon while I zoned off a month ago in school (I’m so glad I’m on summer vacation now) don’t respost them

YouTube also asked me this and episode 42 is the least thing from heartwarming BUT I NEEDED TO BOOST IT SOMEHOW

the Beyblade X intro of Prove is PEAK oh my gosh I love it so much I CAN NEVER GET ENOUGH I love rewatching it over and over and then going to listen to the actual song and playing out animations in my head, I adore Beyblade X so much GAHHHH

also, remember how I talked about the acrylic stands? Well, there are some of Team Pendragon too! Except Ciel sold out and I’m. Absolutely in shambles about that. I found another acrylic stand of Jaxon in his special outfit but it’s $50 and I. Very much love him but the price doesn’t include the prices to pay for importing it to US :,)

can we tell how badly I want more merch of Jaxon in the US other than just beys, I’ll gladly buy Dagger and Buster Dran when I’m able to and any other newer variations BUT I NEED ACTUAL MERCH. And his other two acrylic stands I saw SOLD OUT TOO!! WHAT THE HECK.

If this keeps up I’m just gonna have to make a Jaxon cross themed ACNH island, I can’t with all these prices 😭

but maybe… this means they’ll release plushies one day…. I CAN HAVE A SLIVER OF HOPE maybe

[vixnarts]

Since this pretty lass has been through some racism and hatred on Instagram because she is half Greek, Scottish, and Norwegian AND her lore is messy, but I’m fixing it up. Also the fans are obsessed with my Percababies on Instagram. Half Greeks exist by the way. I decided to post her on Tumblr and I know people are probably gonna hate her here but I’ll set things straight. Sigrid is in no way interested in Nico, nor is he her type. The whole Nico and Sigrid kissing image thing was a JOKE. Of course I don’t ship Sigrid with Nico. They’re best friends, besides I ship Solangelo and Sigrid knows Nico is gay and dating Will. So no I will not do that joke again. Also for those who don’t know, Sigurd is a MALE name please look it up.

Anyways here are somethings about Sigrid here:

She is the daughter of Poseidon (my PJO AU is different than the canon) but at Jupiter, she is the daughter of Neptune. Poseidon goes by Neptune at Camp Jupiter, there is no doppelgänger effect that Riordan does (I hate that)

Sigrid is a Viking and she was born and raised in Scotland 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿

She is half Greek, Scottish, and Norwegian (said above) and has gone through racism and homophobia.

She is bisexual and her new partner is someone I’m trying to decide on.

She loves Will (platonically) and sees Lee Fletcher in him everyday. She has a habit of spraining her ankle just to spend time with him (Sigrid’s an idiot so of course she’ll do that)

She was once close to Lee Fletcher (but I’m debating if he should be alive in my au or died like in BOTL). Thats all I have for now. I could go on but I’ll share that on another day.

[karriethemechtech]

Exhausted. That’s what Karrie was, exhausted. The second she had finished work for the day, she stumbled back to her quarters and collapsed here on the couch. According to the chronometer on the wall, she had been for the past 32 minutes.

33 minutes now.

She groaned and sat up slightly. Not that she did much work at all, really, she thought. All those orders—strange orders at that, as if anything around Hawk was ever normal—and so many of them had slipped out of her fingers. She had done her share, she was sure, but so much of the slack fell on…on…

Sigrid. Images of jagged scars flashed in Karrie’s mind, and her hand drifted towards her torso. That arm having to do all that work…work she didn’t do. It was embarrassing, and a betrayal, that Karrie failed to even do the bare minimum for her fellow MechTech.

The morning’s brunch danced through her mind then. No. Not just another MechTech. Something…more? She pushed the thought aside. Sigrid was a friend, of course she was a friend, and that wasn’t the way Karrie wanted to treat any of her first friends in years. She needed to fix it. That was what she did. Fixing. That was who she was.

Of course, that didn’t make it any easier. She was locked-up, tired. ICEs get locked up without lubricant, you know. It was…it was hard to think. Fixing! Oh, did you make sure you checked the engine on that Thug before you sent it off? There might be containment field issues! Just like on the Orca. You remember the Orca? Karrie scrambled for a handhold. She needed fresh air. Fresh air! It’s cold outside. Remember winters back home? They always used to…

There it was. She needed something to calm her head. Hot chocolate would do the trick. She stumbled to her rattling mini-fridge, upon which a jury-rigged hydraulic piston sat, gently shaking with each rocking motion of the magneto below. Milk. Chocolate. Heat. Stir. It was simple; it was calming. She could grab hold of something like that, something she knew.

Karrie looked to the mirror through the open bathroom door. She squinted. For a moment, she saw a woman with flowing blond hair. Someone to care about. Then she blinked, and all she saw was herself.

Maybe Sigrid liked hot chocolate too.

@on-a-mechtechnicality

[misspeppermint2003]

Picrew Animated Portraits of World Politicians 15

Another but nearly two months after my collection's fourteenth part, I made the fifteenth and last part and it's consisting of 12 Picrew animated portraits of few world politicians with this image maker.

1st left: Mark Rutte & Geert Wilders

1st middle: Mark Rutte & Marine Le Pen

1st right: Marine Le Pen & Sigrid Kaag

2nd left: Karina Milei & Maia Sandu

2nd middle: Javier Milei & Giorgia Meloni

2nd right: Manuel Valls & Geert Wilders

3rd left: Tony Blair & Peter Mandelson

3rd middle: Mark Rutte & Ingrida Šimonytė

3rd right: Mette Frederiksen & Giorgia Meloni

4th left: Theresa May & Angela Merkel

4th middle: Justin Trudeau & Maia Sandu

4th right: Mark Rutte & Emmanuel Macron

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15

[robhorninginternalexile]

2024 Book List

January

1. Trances of the Blast, Mary Ruefle

2. Falling Star, Patricia Moyes

3. Labyrinths, Jorge Luis Borges

4. Introduction to the Work of Marcel Mauss, Claude Lévi-Strauss 

5. The Sweet Dove Died, Barbara Pym

6. The Prison-House of Language, Fredric Jameson

7. The Order of Things, Michel Foucault

8. Illuminated Manuscripts, Tamara Woronowa and Andrej Sterligow

9. Structuralism, John Sturrock

February

10. Immediacy; or the Style of Too Late Capitalism, Anna Kornbluh

11. The Dark Frontier, Eric Ambler

12.  Macbeth, William Shakespeare

13. Michel Foucault: Beyond Structuralism and Hermeneutics, Hubert Dreyfus and Paul Rabinow

14. Don’t Look at Me Like That, Diane Athill

15. The Most of It, Mary Ruefle

16. The Archaeology of Knowledge, Michel Foucault

March

17. Henry IV Part 1, William Shakespeare

18. A Murder Is Announced, Agatha Christie

19. Shakespeare, Johan Gottfried von Herder

20. Literary Theory for Robots, Dennis Yi Tenen

21. Henry IV Part 2, William Shakespeare

22. Richard II, William Shakespeare

23. Lucy Gayheart, Willa Cather

24. Henry V, William Shakespeare

25. Mimesis, Expression, Construction, Fredric Jameson

26. Four-Legged Girl, Diane Seuss

27. Death of a Nationalist, Rebecca Pawel

28. The Flight From the Enchanter, Iris Murdoch

29. The Purloined Clinic, Janet Malcolm

April

30. King Lear, William Shakespeare

31. White Butterfly, Walter Moseley

32. Humanism and Antihumanism, Kate Soper

33. The Illusion of the End, Jean Baudrillard

34. Discourse on Method, René Descartes 

35. Meditations on First Philosophy, René Descartes

36. Cambridge Companion to Descartes, John Cottingham ed

37. The Ordinal Society, Marion Fourcade and Kieran Healy

38. Much Ado About Nothing, William Shakespeare

39. Primer, Bob Perelman

40. As You Like It, William Shakespeare

May

41. A Midsummer Night’s Dream, William Shakespeare

42. The Ballad of Peckham Rye, Muriel Spark

43. Preface to Shakespeare, Samuel Johnson

44. The Weariness of the Self, Alain Ehrenberg 

45. Harmonium, Wallace Stevens

46. Mr. Scarborough’s Family, Anthony Trollope

47. Computing Taste, Nick Seaver

48. Hamlet, William Shakespeare

June

49. On Shakespeare, Northrop Frye

50. The Taming of the Shrew, William Shakespeare

51. The Double Shift, Jason Read

52. Romeo and Juliet, William Shakespeare

53. La Vendée, Anthony Trollope

54. Mirror Worlds, David Gelertner

55. The Commercialization of Intimate Life, Arlie Hochschild

July

56. In Our Own Image, Fred Ritchin

57. Bending the Frame, Fred Ritchin

58. After Photography, Fred Ritchin

59. Cue the Sun!, Emily Nussbaum

60. Appointment With Death, Agatha Christie

61. The Friend, Sigrid Nunez

62. Libra, Don DeLillo

63. The Interpretation of Cultures, Clifford Geertz

64. Mimesis, Erich Auerbach

65. Julius Caesar, William Shakespeare

August

66. Antony and Cleopatra, William Shakespeare

67. Nonrequired Reading, Wisława Szymborska

68. Traveling, Ann Powers

69. Annie Bot, Sierra Greer

70. Regency Buck, Georgette Heyer

71. Coriolanus, William Shakespeare

September

72. Troilus and Cressida, William Shakespeare

73. Fools of Time, Northrop Frye

74. Bel Canto, Ann Patchett

75. Measure for Measure, William Shakespeare

76. William Shakespeare, Terry Eagleton

77. Shakespeare’s Problem Plays, E.M.W. Tillyard

78. Twelfth Night, William Shakespeare

79. The Merchant of Venice, William Shakespeare

80. Othello, William Shakespeare

81. AI Snake Oil, Arvind Narayanan and Sayash Kapoor

82. Passage of Arms, Eric Ambler

October

83. All’s Well That Ends Well, William Shakespeare

84. The Book of the Courtier, Baldesare Castiglione

85. Fables of Aggression, Fredric Jameson

86. Intermezzo, Sally Rooney

87. The Pleasure of the Text, Roland Barthes

88. Liars, Sarah Manguso 

89. James, Percival Everett

November

90. Aesthetics and Politics, Bertholt Brecht, Walter Benjamin et al.

91. Protocol, Alexander Galloway

92. Sartor Resartus, Thomas Carlyle

93. The Unaccountability Machine, Dan Davies

94. Timon of Athens, William Shakespeare

95. Machines Who Think, Pamela McCorduck

December

96. Henry VI, Part 1, William Shakespeare

97. Henry VI, Part 2, William Shakespeare

98. The Triumph of Achilles, Louise Glück

99. All Shot Up, Chester Himes

100. The Saint-Fiacre Affair, Georges Simenon

101. Henry VI, Part 3, William Shakespeare

[lamemaster]

Men Reacting to Meeting Elves First Time

AN: Inspired by this post- by @actual-bill-potts. Idk I just felt the urge to bring this to the world. No elves were harmed in writing this.

Summary: A series of interviews brought to you by yours truly :)

Ulfang: (stares directly into camera with deadpan expression) the first time I saw Maedhros, I held his arm, his only arm (chuckles) to help him cross the road.

(Camera zooms in)

Ulfang: (shuffling in his seat) I thought he was blind. I though he was poor blind elf with no pupils. I even told the kids to be kinder to him...

Interviewer: Andreth please put down the book for now.

Andreth: (annoyed Edain noises) Ah yes the shadow in the East-

Interviewer: Nope not this again (Athrabeth flashbacks). We're talking about your first meeting with Aegnor

Andreth: He was so still I walked past him confusing him for a lamp. (Love crazed smile on her face) Gangly limbs and wild gleaming hair and very eerily still. And then I jumped ten foot into the sky when he suddenly called for me.

Andreth: Flame and moth, (dreamy sigh) thats what they call us.

Beor: We really could not see anything but a blob of light and follow the music that filled the air. I mean what else would anyone assume. Only gods hold such prowess.

Interview: (muttering under breath) Well Celebrimbor and Ar-Pharzon would disagree...

Beor: What (confused dad smile)?? So I approached Nom, whose form stood shrouded by glowing hair that seem to carry the notes of his music.

Beor: At that moment I knew I fell in love, he would be my people's salvation.

Turin: The first time my mother took me to Thingol I scream cried for an hour (Embarrassed head shake).

Interviewer: You lived after that??

Turin: I did because Thingol thought my reaction after seeing a semi-transparent Melian was better...I thought she was the ghost of the crazy lady who lived next door...can you image the childhood trauma of all that in one day...(continues shaking head vigorously. I was scarred. That damned Saeros never let me live it down...

Beren: (Cuddling into Luthien) Society says twisted taste, I say man of culture.

Luthien: They won't dare love (percariously taps her claws on the interviewer's table).

static noises

Aragorn: (barging into Boromir's interview) Why was I not invited?

Interviewer: part elven and the Dunedain don't count...too desensitized.

(Bickering continues)

Interviewer: What was it like meeting the king of woodland realm?

Bard: I was half delirious and running on adrenaline I think I saw four of him and rolled with it. Altough Tilda and Sigrid did complain about unfair hair privillages.

Interviewer: I see (agressively scribbles crying emojis)

[foreststarflaime]

I am imagining Sigrid looking at Loki like “Look at me” and Loki looks and sees Sigrid wearing a stereotypical black cloak that looks like she got it from a Halloween shop and scythe “I’m your daughter’s boss now”

Lol ghostface Sigrid is now a mental image that I have had

[enbeemagical]

been wanting to post this picture I drew of Destiny from the scene where they get new clothes. baby is trans gemder and loving it

ID: a pencil sketch of an androgynous person in a suit with curly shoulder-length hair. They have a surprised expression on their face and are surrounded by a curved mirror frame /end ID

ID: the same image as before, but now with the lyrics "I love who I see, looking at me in the mirror" to each side and along the bottom. The edges of the paper are visible /end ID

lyrics are from Mirror by Sigrid, which has trans vibes to me

Quote from the scene:

"I looked confident. And really good. Not quite like a boy or a girl. ...... I looked stronger than I was, more confident than I was. I looked… right."

[separatist-apologist]

https://www.tumblr.com/sigrid-of-solstheim/779761271855808512?source=share

Ai Tumblrinas be out there being stupid and rude, but the good part is that they don't matter! Anyway, I was thinking abt I Know Places again, and saw this, and thought of you, and how great it is that I can read such passionate, incredible work of art for free because a talented stranger from the other side of the globe decided to share her beautiful story about fictional hot people! Yay for that, or whatever they say in the north!

I think AI Tumblrinas, on some leve, know what they're doing is wrong but they've rationalized it in their mind as "well everyone else is doing it too". So when you say something it directly conflicts with that thought and they feel defensive and lash out rather than reflect on the fact that:

a. you are stealing from other people in a way you would never be okay if they did to you

b. not everyone is doing this- in fact a LOT of people are not.

Writers arguing that AI generative images for their covers are FINE because they're a poor little indie author who can't afford to pay an artist- and do you even know what they charge?? Would be LIVID if I dumped their unedited slop into AI so other people could benefit from their work. It's fine to steal from artists, though! Like you can't have it both ways- if you want to normalize AI, then its your work in the plagarism machine, too. I get to put in my lazy prompt and create a lazy book based on, and trained on, your writing because you've decided no one actually gets to own things.

[yourpixieandbuddy]

Rate (or roast or recommend) My Personal Library

my hope for 2025 is to review and read a book a week…this first week is coming to a close and naturally i have yet to open a book but maybe we’ll slide just one in. all less than savory reads will be donated to my free library on my street 📚

i lost all my personal books i collected over the last fifteen years in an emergency move last summer, so judge lightly

The Hitchhiker’s Guide To The Galaxy - Douglas Adams

Martyr! - Kaveh Akbar

Little Miss Sunshine: The Shooting Script - Michael Arendt

The Handmaid’s tale - Margaret Atwood

Tuck Everlasting - Natalie Babbitt

New Animal - Ella Baxter

Sleepwalk With Me + Other Painfully True Stories - Mike Birbiglia

The New One: Painfully True Stories From A Reluctant Dad - Mike Birbiglia

Someone Who Will Love You In All Your Damaged Glory - Raphael Bob-Waksberg

World Travel: An Irreverent Guide- Anthony Bourdain

Grace - Daphne A. Brooks

Graffiti (And Other Poems) - Savannah Brown

Closer Baby Closer - Savannah Brown

Love is a Dog From Hell - Charles Bukowski

On Cats - Charles Bukowski

Molly - Blake Butler

Create Dangerously: The Power and Responsibility of the Artist - Albert Camus

Breakfast at Tiffany’s - Truman Capote

To Photograph Is To Learn How To Die - Tim Carpenter

Lewis Carroll’s Guide For Insomniacs - Lewis Carroll

The Awakening and Selected Stories - Kate Chopin

The Alchemist - Paulo Choelho

700 Sundays - Billy Crystal

The Year of Magickal Thinking - Joan Didion

Slouching Towards Bethlehem - Joan Didion

Notes From The Underground - Fyodor Dostoevsky

Crime And Punishment - Fyodor Dostoevsky

The Wild Things - Dave Eggers

Disrupting The Game - Reggie Fils-Aime

The Interpretation of Dreams - Sigmund Freud

The Book of Delights - Ross Gay

The Anthropocene Reviewed - John Green

The Cult of Trump - Steven Hassan

People We Meet On Vacation - Emily Henry

The Twilight World - Werner Herzog

The Christmas Thief - Mary Higgins Clark

Open Throat - Henry Hoke

The Odyssey - Homer

The Haunting of Hill House - Shirley Jackson

No One Belongs Here More Than You - Miranda July

The Metamorphosis and Other Stories - Franz Kafka

The Trial - Franz Kafka

Girl, Interrupted - Susanna Kaysen

Book of Dreams - Jack Kerouac

Newspaper Blackout - Austin Kleon

Lady Chatterley’s Lover - D.H. Lawrence

Wicked: The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West - Gregory Maguire

From The Basement - Taylor Makarian

Wooly: The True Story of the Quest to Revive History’s Most Iconic Extinct Creatue - Ben Mezrich

Tropic of Cancer - Henry Miller

Tropic of Capricorn - Henry Miller

Big Little Lies - Liane Moriarty

My Year of Rest and Relaxation - Ottessa Moshfegh

Memoirs - Pablo Neruda

Fifty Beasts To Break Your Heart and Other Stories - Gennarose Nethercott

The Birth of Tragedy and Case of Wagner - Friedrich Nietzsche

The Twilight of the Idols/Anti-Christ - Freidrich Nietzsche

Zarathustra’s Discourse - Friedrich Nietzsche

The Vulnerables - Sigrid Nunez

Haunted - Chuck Palahniuk

Lullaby - Chuck Palahniuk

A Bathroom Book For People Not Pooping or Peeing But Using The Bathroom As An Escape - Joe Pera

The First Rule Of Punk - Celia C. Perez

The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo - Taylor Jenkins Reid

The Land That Time Forgot - Edgar Rice Borroughs

Another Roadside Attraction - Tom Robbins

Normal People - Sally Rooney

Franny and Zooey - J.D. Salinger

Nine Stories - J.D. Salinger

The Devil In Massachusetts - Marion L. Satarkey

The Woman In Me - Britney Spears

Little Astronaut - Hope J. Stein

Perfume: The Story Of A Murderer - Patrick Susking

Strange Tales From A Strange Time: Gonzo Papers, Vol 1: The Great Shark Hunt - Hunter S. Thompson

Fear And Loathing In Las Vegas: A Savage Journey To The Heart of the American Dream - Hunter S. Thompson

Galapagos - Kurt Vonnegut

The Time Machine - H.G. Wells

John Dies In The End - David Wong

Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow - Gabrielle Zevin

The Private Lives of Adam and Eve - Albert Zugsmith

for reading tax here’s some images of my library/office space 💓📚