There are covers that whisper sweet nothings, and then there are covers that slap a pair of torsos in your face and say, “Close enough.” Welcome to Roommates, a design so devoid of emotion, chemistry, or context, it could be the poster for a protein shake subscription service.
Let’s start with the obvious: torso overkill.
We’ve got two abs-forward stock models, cropped just enough to remove any trace of personality, expression, or—what’s that word again? Oh right: romance. These guys aren’t gazing at each other or sharing a tender moment. They’re just standing there, shirtless and slightly annoyed, like they’re waiting in line at a brothel-themed CrossFit class.
And the color palette?
A moody maroon-violet haze, presumably applied to give things a sexy vibe. But instead, it looks like someone dropped a bottle of cologne on a Valentine’s Day card. It’s flat, lifeless, and smells like “desperate masculinity.”
But nothing — absolutely nothing — prepares you for the typography.
The title ROOMMATES is delivered in a distressed, bold, gritty stencil font straight from the “military thriller starter pack.” You’d expect this to be about covert ops, maybe a hostage situation — not a tender tale of domestic mpreg romance. It’s trying to shout “drama!” but ends up mumbling “I downloaded this font from a site with too many pop-ups.”
Then comes the line:
AN MM MPREG ROMANCE
Placed politely beneath the title in a plain sans-serif like it’s quietly apologizing for the torso tsunami above it. It’s presented so clinically, it might as well be a genre tag on a library shelf: “Yes, it’s gay, yes, someone is pregnant, but let’s not make a big deal about it.”
And finally, Briton Frost at the bottom, cleanly typeset like a designer who suddenly regained consciousness and remembered that fonts are supposed to match tone. Too little, too late.
There’s no setting. No story clues. No intimacy. Just abs. So many abs. It’s like the cover is screaming “we’re hot and roommates” while frantically hoping the reader brings the emotional nuance the design forgot to include.
Final thoughts?
This isn’t a book cover — it’s a shirtless shrug in JPEG form. It’s the design equivalent of walking into a room, flexing, and forgetting why you came in. It tells us nothing about the characters, the story, or why one of them might be pregnant (an important detail!).
This isn’t Roommates.
It’s Room for Improvement: Abs Edition.