#printverse

[kendsleyauthor]

Andres and Lorelei (Masterpost)

This post lists all the current stories written about my and @marydublinauthor's characters -- Andres and Lorelei!

Andres and Lorelei exist in the print/trinket universe. A trinket no taller than the pieces on a chessboard takes a champion player by surprise.

(Art by @marydublinauthor 🌸)

ORIGIN STORY:

👑 The Clandestine Queen

👑 The Candescent King

Drowsy

SHORT STORIES:

New Year's Kiss

Muy Bien

Pieces of a Past Life

Queen Takes King

Coffee Smell

Leaves

Lullaby

Thanks For Playing With Me

You're the First Friend I Ever Had

Her Move (Spicy)

Starstruck (Micah crossover!)

Beg Me For It (Spicy)

[marydublinauthor]

Random gt drabbles: Poolside

Characters: Micah/Everly

Safe for work • @kendsleyauthor

_____________

The music video had wrapped ten minutes ago, but Everly couldn’t bring herself to look away. The shoot had been at the most luxe, colorful hotel in Chicago. From the moment she’d seen the bizarre art hanging proudly in the lobby, she knew this place was perfect for Micah’s brand. She wondered idly if he was rich enough now to buy this place. A rooftop infinity pool stretched to a breathtaking view of the Windy City. She never dreamed of seeing a view like this firsthand while in the Burrow.

While the crew deprepped the lighting and video equipment, Everly shied under a pool chair to stay out of the way. This was only a print-friendly set because Micah Tate sauntered in with his $600 sunglasses and her in the crook of his arm — not because any human would be particularly careful if she were to get in the way.

“Hey, Ev. Finish this for me?”

She glanced up, surprised to see Micah had made his way over to her. He spotted her when everyone else so easily overlooked a lone Print’s presence on set. He leaned out of the pool, a stemless glass offered.

Glancing around at the emptying rooftop, she emerged. She accepted the fake rosé they’d been using in the shoot and gulped at it. She coughed, eyes widening.

“Oh — This is real?”

“I don’t fake everything,” Micah pouted. He took the glass from her and finished it. Her eyes lingered on the hollow of his throat. It was so different to see him bare, without his makeup and elaborate suits.

“No? What about this?” She patted his chin. The tease slipped out of her effortlessly. She tapped his lip. “Or this?”

Micah’s easy grin flickered. Something animal flashed in his dark eyes - it frightened her and made her insides pull towards him all at once.

“Tell me if I’m faking this,” he purred.

She squealed as he nuzzled her, brushing a kiss to the little bit of skin revealed by her collar. His hand wrapped around her waist and she protested that he was making her wet. She should have kept her mouth shut.

Micah solved that little problem by pulling her into the pool with him.

[lovebugdesignsus]

Here are our New Highland Cow toys By Printverse!

[eburd1]

Neu: Drakonier - Die gefährlichste Reptiloide Alienrasse Printversion auf Amazon Unzensierte digitale Version mit über 300 Seiten auf Patreon

Seit Jahrtausenden existiert eine verborgene Macht, die im Schatten der Menschheitsgeschichte agiert. Reptiloide Wesen, die Alpha-Drakonier, haben lange vor den Menschen diese Welt beansprucht, und ihre sinistren Spuren reichen tief in die verborgene Mythologie, die vertuschten Vatikan Archive und unterdrückte Geheim-Berichte hinein. Die Drakonier haben die Erde durch interdimensionale Tore betreten, ihre Einflussnahme durch gezielte Kontrolle menschlicher Gesellschaften gesichert, sich im Inneren der hohlen Erde angesiedelt und stehen mit anderen außerirdischen Rassen in Kontakt. Berichte über unterirdische Basen, genetische Manipulationen und eine verborgene Herrscherkaste deuten auf eine Agenda hin, die weit über das hinausgeht, was offiziell bekannt ist. Während ihre Präsenz von den Mächtigen verschleiert wird, beginnen immer mehr Menschen, die Hinweise zu entschlüsseln: Alte Hochkulturen, von den Drakoniern geformt, verborgene Technologien, die nicht von dieser Welt stammen, und eine planetare Kontrolle, die durch Angst und Täuschung aufrechterhalten wird. Was, wenn der wahre Ursprung der Menschheit in einem außerirdischen Konflikt liegt? Was, wenn uralte Kräfte die Erde nie verlassen haben? Dieses Buch verfolgt die Spuren eines Mysteriums, das alles in Frage stellt, was wir über unsere Geschichte zu wissen glauben.

[univerprintshop]

[thbiedermann]

Backbuch „Torten“ nun auch als ePub-eBook erhältlich

Das Backbuch „Torten – Kein-Back-Torten mit Milchprodukten und Obst“ ist nun auch als ePub-eBook erhältlich. ISBN 978-3-941695-66-5, Printversion, 14,90 € ISBN 978-3-941695-90-0, PDF-eBook, 11,99 € ISBN 978-3-941695-76-4, ePub-eBook, 11,99 € Bei Ihrem Buchgeschäft vor Ort, in einem Buch-Onlineshop oder in meinem kleinen Buchshop.

[korrektheiten]

Die Höcke-Seifenoper des “Focus”

Ansage: »Trommelwirbel: Auch der “Focus” beschloss nun, einen mehrseitigen Titelbericht über Björn Höcke (derzeit nur als Printversion, E-Paper und hinter Bezahlschranke erhältlich) zu veröffentlichen. Schließlich gehört es heute schon fast zum guten Ton, eine “German Horror Story” über den Thüringer AfD-Politiker im Repertoire zu haben. Da offensichtlich schon alle seine ehemaligen Schüler ergebnislos über ihn befragt […] The post Die Höcke-Seifenoper des “Focus” first appeared on Ansage. http://dlvr.it/SwY3pB «

[kendsleyauthor]

✨Forlorn + Delight✨

Promptober 2023

Print / Trinket Universe (Xander and Grayson)

~2000 words

A sequel to Rabbit. The aftermath of Xander kissing Grayson isn't all sunshine and rainbows-- at least not a first. 😉

@marydublinauthor 🌸

Just ‘cause.

Those two words pulsed through Grayson like poison—Xander’s off-handed explanation for his viciously protective behavior. Just ‘cause. Sealed with a kiss. Twenty-four hours later, Grayson couldn’t settle on precisely how to feel.

Enthralled? Insulted? Terrified? Starving for more.

“Grayson?” Everly waved a hand in front of his face.

They were sharing a snack on the metal rigging high above the stage. The chunk of soft pretzel had gone cold by the time they reached the top of the rigging, but the privacy was unmatched. More and more these days, truly taking a breather meant finding a spot where no humans could bother them.

Everly cocked her head at Grayson, chewing thoughtfully. There were circles under her eyes—more than usual. “Are you okay?” she asked before he could ask her the same.

Grayson eyed their surroundings. The stage looked impossibly small down below compared to the enormity of the stadium. Tomorrow night, the venue would be packed with nearly a hundred thousand screaming people. His throat tightened at the thought that he might not stick around to witness it.

“I don’t think I can do this anymore.” Grayson wasn’t sure how he managed to form the words, but there they were. Out in the open for Everly to gape over.

“What?” she breathed. “What do you mean?”

“I…” He pursed his lips, the words eluding him now. “I never should have stuck around this long. That was a mistake.”

“What are you talking about?” Voice shaking, Everly set her food aside and leaned closer to him. “We need you. Everything you’ve done to keep the Rebellion fund hidden—it’s incredible. No one else can do that.” Her breaths quickened. “What happened? Are we in danger? Grayson, talk to me.”

He put a hand on her arm to calm her. “It’s nothing like that,” he said hurriedly. “It’s… it’s him.”

She frowned, faint understanding flooding her features. “What did he do?” Her voice dropped to a whisper, but her tone sharpened like a vengeful blade.

Grayson was briefly entertained by the mental image of Everly luring Xander to her level so she could deck him across the face. He nearly laughed. No, it was more likely she’d have Micah do the honors. He’d never say no to her. Hell, Micah might even punch Xander of his own accord if he knew Grayson’s feelings were being toyed with.

“He didn’t hurt me,” Grayson said. “I just… can’t be around him anymore.”

“You don’t have to share his room,” she said hurriedly. “We’ll figure out another arrangement.”

“He’ll still be around,” Grayson muttered.

Her shoulders slumped. The mourning in her gaze was unmistakable. While she was desperate to keep the Rebellion fund strong, he knew she was already imagining what it would be like to not have another print on the tour with her.

“I’m sorry,” she said, squeezing his hand on her arm. “I thought… I thought he was safe. Micah said he trusted him with his life. After all this time together, I thought you trusted him, too.”

“I did. It got messy.”

Fresh guilt sparkled in her eyes. “Please, will you just… just finish out the tour? Everything will fall apart if you leave suddenly. At least think about it.”

He sighed. He felt so silly, putting his own lovesick feelings above the work of the Rebellion. But he could focus while Xander loomed in the background. If anything, the funding might be even more airtight if he managed the money remotely.

“I’ll think about it,” he murmured, though he’d already made up his mind. “Can I bunk with you tonight?”

“Of course. Do you want me to go with you to get your things from Xander’s room?”

“No. I’ve got it.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

The upside to having a sulky image was that no one questioned when he decided to hole himself up on the bus all day. Xander stared at the ceiling, jaw clenched. Photographers would be crying into their pillow if they knew about the broody expression they were missing out on.

Stupid, he can’t stop thinking. Stupid, stupid stupid, why did you do it?

A ping indicated that the door was about to slide open, set off by a remote electronic key.

Grayson.

“Fuck,” Xander whispered, squeezing his eyes shut for a second. He didn’t move, but he didn’t bother pretending to be asleep, either.

The door swished open. Small footsteps entered the room. Not a single word was spoken.

Xander had never been one to cave in a situation like that. Xander had never put himself in a situation like this.

“‘Bout time,” he muttered despite everything. He turned his head, searching the ground.

Grayson, wearing the same clothes from last night, climbed the steps to the desk beside the bed. He began gathering his belongings. Clothes, notes, sketches, and tiny circuits were scattered across one corner of the surface. Although Xander always muttered he was free to use the entire space, Grayson’s things never moved past an invisible line he had made for himself.

The sight of Grayson stuffing his things into bags made Xander’s heart stutter uncertainly.

“Where were you last night?” Xander asked.

“Backstage,” Grayson answered crisply. “Pulled an all-nighter.”

“You could’ve at least told me you’d be working all night to avoid me. I thought something had happened to you.”

“Something did happen to me.” Grayson threw him a side-eyed glare.

Guilt crawled beneath Xander’s skin, though he didn’t let his mask twitch. Had he completely misread the situation? He thought for sure that Grayson had feelings for him. Yet there he was, scowling and packing up his items like he couldn’t stand to be around Xander for a second longer.

Xander sat up, scoffing defensively. “So, you’d rather sleep on a crate backstage than come in here and talk about this?”

“You’re the one who walked away!” Grayson threw a shirt down into the gathered pile. “And besides—what’s there to talk about? It was a joke, wasn’t it?”

“A joke?” Suddenly, it began to make sense. Grayson assumed that Xander was leading him on. Xander’s face flushed—he hated when he had to spell things out for people. “You think I’d put myself at risk, kissing a print, for a joke?”

“You and Micah have made out on stage plenty of times. It’s all fun and games for you—kissing someone you don’t really want.”

“That was back when I didn’t give a fuck, and Micah would kiss anything with a pulse for attention. Before Everly.” Xander stared hard at Grayson and shifted his legs over the side of the bed to lean closer to the desk. “That’s got nothing to do with…” Us. He couldn’t bring himself to say it. Us.

“Whatever it was, you didn’t mean it,” Grayson said resolutely. 

“I don’t do anything unless I mean it.”

A wry laugh shook through Grayson. He tilted his head back to regard the ceiling. “I know you by this point, Xander. Even if you wanted that kiss, this isn’t going anywhere. Is it? You’re not going to put yourself in danger to make something out of this—whatever this is. Am I wrong?”

Xander was not prepared for the desolate look that was sent his way. Grayson had the exact same look in his eyes when Wyatt had broken up with him months ago. But Xander couldn’t bring himself to answer right away. Grayson was right, in some capacity. He wasn’t sure if he could live the same way that Micah and Everly did.

Grayson’s expression only dampened further. “I can’t do this anymore,” he announced quietly. “I’m going home. Wyatt will let me stay for a while, especially if I keep working on the Rebellion fund from the apartment.”

Blood running cold, Xander found himself at a loss for words all over again. He thought Grayson was only relocating his belongings to a different bus. Not that he was leaving the tour altogether.

Despite everything, Grayson was willing to go back to living with his ex, so long as it meant helping the cause.

He couldn’t recall a single time he’d seen Grayson make a decision that truly made him happy—and apparently, staying in proximity to Xander was the worse choice.

“You know what?” Xander blurted, frustration winning out. “It’s about fucking time. Micah never even asked me if I wanted to be your glorified bodyguard. Guess he figured that I already gripe so much, what’s one more thing?”

Grayson went absolutely rigid, then turned away. Even as he continued to pack, folding his shirts with meticulous detail, Xander kept a glare on him. He saw a tear slide down Grayson’s cheek, and he severely regretted every decision that had led to that tear.

“No… No, I’m sorry.” Xander swallowed hard. “I didn’t mean that. I’m just… I don’t know.”

“What happened to not doing anything unless you mean it?” Grayson snapped, his voice thick. His hands shook. “Why can’t you just say you were fucking around with me? Why do you have to make this so hard? It’ll be easier if you tell me that it meant nothing.”

Xander reached out, gently grasping one of Grayson’s hands to pull him away from the aimless motion of folding. Silence enveloped them as Grayson slowly lifted his gaze. 

Xander didn’t have to close the distance. He didn’t have to lay his feelings out in the open. But he was doing it. Neither of them could chalk up this contact as a spur-of-the-moment reaction. His movements were slow, and delicate, unlike his split-second decision to kiss Grayson backstage.

He gave Grayson a gentle tug closer to the edge of the desk. It wasn’t a command, but an invitation.

Grayson shuffled forward, observing Xander with a guarded stare.

“Can I kiss you?” Xander asked softly.

The air charged between them. He looked squarely at Grayson, searching for any sign that he was too intimidated to say no. But the desire in his gaze was unmistakable, buried under layers of aggravation with Xander.

Grayson’s voice trembled. “Yes.”

Xander tilted his head and brushed his lips against Grayson’s cheek tenderly. From there, it was all too easy to cave into their hunger for each other. Grayson was less chaste, kissing Xander’s lips feverishly. For a moment, Xander held still for him, basking in Grayson’s affection.

They broke apart, eyes meeting. Everything else melted away, and all Xander wanted was more. 

His hands surrounded Grayson, fingertips feeling along his body.  Xander gently plucked up the hem of Grayson’s t-shirt. Grayson put up no resistance, raising his arms. The moment his shirt was discarded, Xander promptly closed the space again and began kissing his torso. He swept his hands behind Grayson, transporting him to one of the pillows on the bed.

Grayson fell back on the plush surface, breaths heavy and eyes fluttering shut. Xander crushed his lips against Grayson’s chest, acutely aware of the tiny heartbeat fluttering maniacally under his kisses. 

“Still think this is a joke?” Xander asked, his breath hot against Grayson’s skin.

He expected a quip in return. Instead, Grayson croaked, “Is this anything? Can this be anything?”

Pausing, Xander pushed himself up on his arms and looked down at his pillow. Grayson looked utterly vulnerable laying there—and it had nothing to do with his size. His eyes begged for a clear answer, desperate to not have his heart broken again. 

“Do we have to decide right now?” Xander murmured, annoyed by the cowardice that held him back from a clear answer.

Disappointment filled Grayson’s dark eyes. “But if I leave…”

Shuddering, Xander leaned down. He could have easily smothered Grayson’s uncertainty with more kisses, but he nuzzled his face against Grayson’s body instead.

“Don’t leave,” Xander whispered.

His hope dwindled with each passing second of silence.

And then Grayson whispered back: “Okay.”

[marydublinauthor]

Ryan and Nicole vibes! (Pre-restoration) Which do you prefer, A or B? 👀🖤

*Made with midjourney

Get Involved with The Restoration Program!

Goodreads

Pre-order Ebook

[lovebugdesignsus]

I have a theory...

Here is our Puma/Mountain Lion toy By Printverse

[lalalenii]

6 & 7: »Wissen ist Nacht« oder Wotans Rache

Halbzeit!

Ich hab beide Kapitel am jeweiligen Tag gelesen, nur gestern in der Mittagspause meine Thoughts auf meinem Work PC aufgeschrieben und den dan vergessen. So here we go.

Ein kleiner Nachtrag zu (vor)gestern: Natürlich will ich jetzt einen Wolpertingerwelpen. 

Und jetzt: ICH LIEBE QWERT. QWERT ZUIOPÜ ist die Liebe meines Lebens. Ich stürze mich für den Rest meines Lebens durch Dimensionslöcher, bis ich in der 2364 lande und auf den Gallertprinz treffe. Ohne Witz,  ich musste in diesem Kapitel so viel lachen. Und der erste Hinweis auf Hildegunst von Mythenmetz 👀 Es ist soooo spanned wie sich die ganze zamonische Lore hier langsam entwickelt. Bei jedem Charakter, Namen, Stadt halte ich inne und bin neugierig ob wir dem nochmal begegnen. Groot und Zille sind auch so ein ikonisches Duo. Eventuell habe ich auch 10 Min damit verbracht, herauszufinden ob die lateinische, griechische, isländische und polynesische Form von Walfisch wirklich Cetus, cytoz, hvalur und piki-nui-nui heißt? (Die Antwort ist: ja.) 

Übrigens: trôm, die yhollisische Form von Walfisch ist die vietnameseische Bezeichnung des Fingerblättrigen Stinkbaumes. 

Apropos Sprache. Ich möchte so viel mit Walter Moers über die Etymologie von Zamonien sprechen. Ich meine … Nafftifftoff? Eyedeet? Selsillen? Amazing. Showstopping. Ziehe auch sämtliche Hüte vor Dirk Bach und Andreas Fröhlich, WIE KANN MAN SOWAS LESEN 

ICH WILL MEHR! 

Und können wir auch über das Layout sprechen? Die Illustration wo der Blaubär mit Dr. Nachtigaller in der Dunkelkammer ist, und die Augen dann Leuchten und der Text halb weiß/halb schwarz ist. Incredible. Ich glaube hier gewinnt man sowohl beim Hörbuch als auch bei der Printversion unglaublich viel dazu.

Heute auch mal einige meiner Lieblingssätze: »Abends, wenn wir in den Betten lagen, pflegte er uns mit seinen Blähungen zu peinigen. »Achtung, jetzt kommt die Rache Wotans!« kündigte er seine phänomenalen Fürze immer an.« Und »Ich verabschiedete mich mit Händedruck von Fogelweide, Groot, Zille und dem Dodo, der Hartmut hieß.«

Weil ich eh schon durch bin hier auch noch gleich die Zeit im Großen Wald, über die ich aber auch nicht so viel zu sagen habe. Faszinierend, wie wir immer bösartigere Daseinsformen kennen lernen, aber irgendwie fühlt sich das Kapitel nach Gourmetinsel 2.0 an. Ich hab mich aber sehr gefreut, dem Höhlentroll wieder zu begegnen. Kähähä!

Käpt'n Blaubär: Das Logbuch

nachdem eine (1) Person danach gefragt hat (@maxwellshimbo) und ich wirklich nicht mehr encouragement brauche, hier mein Live-Blog zu Die 13 1/2 Leben des Käpt'n Blaubär.

1 - 3: Von Zwergpiraten, Klabautergeistern und Fluchten

Ich hatte beim Vorwort direkt die Stimme von Wolfgang Völz im Ohr – gab es je eine perfektere Besetzung auf eine Stimme? Ich glaube nicht.

Wahnsinn, wie man von Moers direkt in dieses Universum geworfen wird. Ich find spannend wie er existierende Folklore weiterspinnt, sodass man sich im weitesten Sinne schon vorstellen kann, was mit den Figuren gemeint ist. Ich muss echt oft schmunzeln – die Zwergpiraten, die mit Augenklappe und Hut geboren werden, die die Meere regieren, aber niemand bekommt es mit. Die Entstehungsgeschichte der Klabautergeister: herrlich!

Ich habe einen Softspot für die Klabautergeister. Sie sind einfach nur neugierig, weil sie Gefühle nicht kennen 🥺

Außerdem habe ich herausgefunden dass es ein whole-ass Musical zu Käpt'n Blaubär gibt. Das musste ich meinem Musical-Buddy mitteilen, und das Gespräch hat darin geendet, dass wir über die Geschwister Fröhlich gefangirlt haben. Apropos Fröhlich: Ich hab mal in das Hörbuch reingehört, weil ja auch die Lesung von Dirk Bach so iconic sein soll. Ich bin noch nicht ganz damit warm geworden und bleibe erstmal beim Buch, vor allem wegen den tollen Illus. Es gibt aber auch eine Neufassung, die mit »zamonischem Sounddesign« neu arrangiert ist, und da spricht auch Völz mit. Nur das Intro? Die Lexikoneinträge von Prof. Dr. Abdul Nachtigaler? We don't know.

Okay zurück zum Buch. Ich mochte auch den Abschnitt über die verschiedenen Wellen total gern. Bin ein Fan von lebenden Objekten, vor allem wenn sie eh schon organischen Ursprung haben. Und die Tratschwellen waren sehr unterhaltsam. Entweder ist Moers ein guter Blender im Sinne von einem guten Erzähler, oder ich bin einfach dumm: Mir ist nämlich bis es die Wellen erwähnt haben nicht aufgefallen, dass der Blaubär nicht sprechen kann und keinen Namen hat! Und ich finde es auch sehr spannend, wie Erwartungen von Gut/Böse subventioniert werden. Denn sowohl die Klabautergeister als auch die Tratschwellen werden ja eher als bösartig eingeführt, werden dann aber zu Blaubärs Freunden und helfen ihm weiter. Natürlich ist er der most unreliable Narrator to ever narrate, aber das ist mir aufgefallen.

Als letzte Anmerkung: Harpunen aus dem Rücken eines Tyrannowales Rex zu picken, klingt nach einer absoluten Traumbeschäftigung. Morgen geht's dann zu den Feinschmeckern!